Writings of Plethon

ORATION I OF GEORGE GEMISTUS PLETHON TO KING EMMANUEL CONCERNING PELOPONNESIAN AFFAIRS.

^A 1. Most divine Emperor, the war waged against the Italians who were ruling in the Peloponnese by your most excellent sons has been brought to a close, and indeed with great credit and advantage; and this most especially because they have, after a long lapse of time, recovered for us most of their territories, and those the most vital, with the Italians themselves having entirely yielded to us and agreed to follow our lead in all matters. From these events, there arises for you glory and renown as you thus strengthen and expand your rule, and for the common good, simultaneously, both security and benefit, and, if God grants it, an opportunity for even greater things in the future. Now, however, it comes into my mind to speak and to offer suggestions which, upon long consideration, appear to me to be such that, if they are brought to pass, they would be of great benefit to the affairs here, but if they are not, they would cause no small lack in the preservation of the whole.

^B 2. First of all, I shall say a few things regarding the land itself—how it should be held by you in the highest regard; not that I do not see that you yourselves have shown great care for it, but for the sake of the discourse itself, so that it may proceed in due order. For we over whom you lead and rule are of the Hellenic race, as both our language and our ancestral education testify. And for Hellenes, it is impossible to find any country more proper or more suitable than the Peloponnese, and whatever part of Europe it looks toward, and adjacent to it...

For it is evident that Hellenes have always inhabited this land from as far back as human memory can recall, with ^A no others having occupied it before them; nor did they arrive as newcomers to seize it by expelling others, only to be expelled themselves by others in turn—but on the contrary, the Hellenes have always held this region and have never abandoned it.

3. Now, it is handed down that the Peloponnese brought forth the foremost and most noble tribes of the Hellenes, and that, setting out from here, the Hellenes ^B performed their greatest and most glorious deeds. And indeed, concerning that great City by the Bosphorus, which is now your royal seat, anyone considering the matter rightly might not unjustly call this land its mother and, so to speak, its source. For both those who inhabited Byzantium originally were Hellenes and Dorians (and that the Dorians are Peloponnesians is a matter of doubt to no one); and those who in later centuries led that illustrious colony from Rome in Italy, and increased Byzantium with such a brilliant addition, are not alien to the Peloponnesians. For just as the descendants of Aeneas and the Sabines, having mingled on equal terms, inhabited the most fortunate city of Rome, so too are the Sabines considered Peloponnesians, as having originated from the Lacedaemonians.

4. For these reasons, therefore, this country is not to be valued lightly, neither by you, the sovereigns, nor by us, your subjects; ^C since we must take the greatest care of what is own and most proper to us, and this land is more our own than any other. But even if I must speak of its virtue, in which it yields to no land—passing over, for the present, what might be said regarding the temperate nature of its seasons, the abundance of its crops, and generally all that pertains to the necessities of life—what country would not be superior in terms of security? Being at once an island of such a size and a mainland, its inhabitants, if they make proper use of the available resources with minimal equipment, can both repel anyone who might invade, and also—when they so desire—attack others, and thus easily extend the borders of their region. ^D Furthermore, I omit the fortifications of the mountains that stretch across the whole land and everywhere stand out like citadels; so that even if enemies should by chance capture the plains, they would still fail to gain the entire region.

5. It follows, then, that not only by right of kinship, but also by virtue of its excellence...

this region must be cared for, if indeed it is right to be more concerned for those things which are better. This care is incumbent upon everyone belonging to the Greeks, but especially upon you, the emperors, to whom the protection of the whole is committed before all others; and to you above all who have ever been emperors. For when the Italians had conquered this land and held dominion over it for a long period, it appears that no others except the emperors of your house recovered it. And you yourself, O Emperor, in addition to many other great benefits, have recently performed this great and brilliant work by building the wall across the isthmus [(8)], which would seem to be the greatest and most excellent opportunity for lasting safety. Wherefore it befits you to append these subsequent works to the establishment of your former benefits, ^B so that you may appear both to be ever adding to your noble deeds, and at the same time, by the perseverance of what follows, the benefits already conferred may remain as secure as possible.

6. I believe that this region, when well administered, will bring no small safety and advantage to this great city [(9)]; I think it superfluous to explain this in more detail at the present time. That this region is worthy of the greatest care has, I think, been sufficiently demonstrated by me, as far as the matter requires. Now I shall state what care I propose should be added to the benefits you have already bestowed, and which of the things here most need correction, and how, if done, they would be most profitable; but first I will mention and recount those things which are currently not in a good state in these affairs.

7. It is, then, first necessary to see that the common people of the Peloponnese ^C are either engaged in agriculture or in pasturage, and from these pursuits they procure for themselves the necessities of life, and pay taxes, and these same persons serve in the military [(10)]. They pay taxes in small amounts, yet frequently, collected from many, and for the most part in coin, not in goods. Therefore, when an expedition is announced, only a few proceed out of the many, and most of those who do go forth are unarmed; and once stationed in the camp, they do not at all wish to remain, as their work at home calls them, from which they need to make expenditures both at home and in the camp, and in addition are compelled to pay taxes. ^D And a deserting or even unarmed army is of very little value.

8. That these matters stand thus, and that they are in the most dangerous condition, you will have, both from the…

established state of affairs, ^A and indeed from the need itself and from this war that has already broken out, for it has been proven to be thus. For how, in general, could the same person be a soldier and at the same time support both himself and others? We cannot always plunder during an expedition so that the soldiers might derive some benefit from this; rather, it is necessary to spend from one’s own resources whatever is intended to be of any service to the common good. From such a system of preparation, the Isthmus can neither be guarded adequately, nor, if any danger should ever loom, would there be any firm hope of salvation. Therefore, before such a thing happens, and while we are still in safety, it is proper to correct those things that appear to be in a poor and precarious state, and to prepare from available resources so that, if any event should occur, we may be able to endure it as best we can. For it is difficult to correct what is amiss when one is in the midst of the disaster and the dangers themselves.

9. ^B Now, as for those who suggest a levy on every household to support mercenary troops for the defense of the Isthmus, thinking they have devised something great and noble—as though it alone could relieve our situation—when they consider how much money they would collect if the levy were approved, to me it seems laughable that, having ruined our own citizens, we believe we will be saved by hiring foreigners and aliens. For how does it not ruin them, when we release them from guarding but demand such large sums of money? For if the current levies ruin them—and indeed the many have already been ruined—what then will happen if something is added?

10. ^C Furthermore, if any danger should come, those mercenaries will clearly no longer be able to defend us. We will then turn to our own soldiers, but since they will be ruined and unarmed and unable, we will have no one to use if they are stationed elsewhere. Nor will the constant presence of the sovereign with his picked troops at the Isthmus be of much help to us, unless a numerous army is present. Indeed, we seem in this state like those who have contracted a disease through intemperance, who are unwilling to abandon a corrupt way of life, but believe they will recover their health through certain medicines or amulets. ^D Truly, we should not think that such a class of people will be of any benefit to us in these matters, unless a great and significant change in all affairs occurs and all those things which I have mentioned are corrected.

11. Therefore, first of all, I say that this must be corrected: that the same people should not be both the ones serving in the army and the ones making payments. Rather, all Peloponnesians should first be divided into two groups: separately, those who serve as soldiers, and separately, those who pay, according to the natural aptitude of each. And the soldiers, besides being free from any levy (some text is missing here), yet not so...

should no longer be expected to pay in such small, frequent amounts, nor by many collectors, nor in currency. For in this way, these collections become most burdensome both to the payers and to the collectors. Rather, there should be one type of levy, paid in money, collected by one person from each individual—and this should be such, and of such size, as to be at once just, sufficient for the state of affairs, and as light as possible for those who must bear it.

12. What, then, would the levy be that could encompass all these things at once? I shall explain. I maintain that the produce resulting from each of the works rightly belongs ^B to three: first, to the worker of the works himself; second, to the one who provides the means for the works; and third, to the one who provides security for the whole. Workers are the plowmen, the diggers, the shepherds; the means for these works consist of oxen, vineyards, herds, and whatever else of that kind there may be. Those who provide security for the whole are the soldiers and the commanders, and those who oversee the common affairs, each in their own station, preserving each thing, both great and small, and the king who is sovereign over all, directing and preserving everything. For if any of these were missing, nothing of the rest would be of any value; but it is necessary first that there be those to do the work, and means present for the works, and at the same time those to guard them, if any benefit is to be achieved.

13. For this reason, ^C I say that the produce resulting from each of the works must be divided into three parts, whether they consist of grain, wine, or oil, or fabrics, or the offspring of herds, milk, wool, or any other similar thing. When the crops are reckoned—for plowmen after the removal of the seeds, and for shepherds after the restitution of the original stock—one part should be for the worker himself, the second for the means, and the third for the public. He who works with his own means, having two parts, shall pay the third to the public; but he who receives his means from those set in charge by the public must act on the third part, or if they have agreed otherwise by some common arrangement, that does not depart much from this fairness. He, however, who works ^D with the common expenses, is to take one part, and beyond this, no one is to pay anything of any account. Those who contribute this levy might be called—if one were to order it so—Helots, because they are exempted from military service for the purpose of paying the levy; but one must consider them common providers, and neither exact anything more than this levy, nor use them for forced labor, but cherish them with the utmost care, that they may suffer no injury whatsoever.

14. ^A With these matters thus arranged, I suggest that one Helot be assigned to each foot soldier, and two to each horseman; so that each soldier may enjoy the fruits of his own property—insofar as working it does not hinder him from serving in the army—and also enjoy the portion of the Helot, whether [the assets are] private or public, or supplied by any other arrangement, and thus, together with his arms, he may continue to serve in the army and remain wherever he is stationed. Where it is possible to divide the entire population into soldiers and Helots, because not all are deemed fit for military service, this plan should be followed; but where the majority are deemed fit for military service, these should be divided into couples, and then the partners should be compelled to work for the public interest for the most part, and by turns, so that—the one working for the common good of both, the other serving in the army. Regarding the commanders and the chosen soldiers among you, it would be your prerogative to decide how many Helots to assign to each; my role would be to offer a suggestion. For every three Helots assigned, compel them to provide one horseman, who shall be both a servant to him [the commander] and a soldier at the same time for the public, supported in such a way that these men together may contribute to the common good. ^B Also set aside for the divine leader, for [the needs of] his household, as many of these Helots as you judge sufficient. And indeed, for those priests of the higher priesthood, inasmuch as they are consecrated to the public service, it is fitting to assign to them as well a portion of the Helots, midway between the elite men, so that there may be no necessity for them to spend [time or resources] on either wives or children due to [the requirement of] solitary life.

15. ^C But as for those who claim to pursue a monastic life, yet under this pretext desire to become partakers of the majority of public goods, I maintain that it is both holy and fitting for this manner of life that nothing from the common funds should be assigned to them; rather, it is right that they should enjoy their own [possessions] without burden, neither contributing anything themselves nor taking anything from the public. For that these men should also enjoy public goods is in no way fitting, nor is it holy, neither for those who receive them, nor for those who distribute them. For those who contribute what they contribute even now do so as a reward to the guardians of the common good for the labors they endure for the sake of public safety; but as for those who occupy themselves with the monastic life, they perform no service to the public—but rather others are consecrated to the public [service]—and they, as they say, having withdrawn from all things, privately call upon God and claim to care for their own souls. ^D When, therefore, those who pay the wages for the sake of common safety think it right to take [for themselves] the rewards—under the pretext of virtue—by depriving those to whom it is fitting to distribute them, who, I ask, would say that this is holy, unless he were caught up in a great deal of superstition, that third form of impiety, so as to believe that God would accept even any of these offerings [given] outside of those to whom [they are] properly due?

16. It seems to me that not even those who originally handed down this way of life would agree with such things, but rather, by their labors, they would have commanded it to be [as follows]...

that each one might live according to his own resources, and not by using forced services. For it is because of these unnecessary expenses that the commonwealth suffers, and because of those who think they should be exempt from public services at the common expense, both harming the commonwealth and establishing for themselves a lazy, drone-like existence, without any shame for the disgrace of the matter. From this, anyone could perceive the gravity of the wrong for which both sides appear guilty, because they treat with every shamelessness the very thing our enemies would most pray for: that the expenses for our safety be squandered in vain. For those who claim to have "bought" such things, and those who claim this fitting reward for many great deeds said to have been performed by them or their ancestors—bringing about the common ruin—do not seem to me to be asking for what is just, and they seem to be entirely devoid of feeling, since they do not perceive even this much: that if the commonwealth should fall—which may it never—it would surely bring no profit ^B to them either.

17. I would say that it is indeed just for some to have those things they possess, in place of great public services or contributions to the commonwealth, or an equivalent value; yet they ought to perform the fitting services for these very things, content with the mere honor of the position, so that, enjoying greater fruit and burdened with a greater duty, they might render even more use to the commonwealth, and not appear like that cow which, once the milk is drawn, kicks it over, or, as Hesiod says, appearing ^C to "love their own misfortunes." For when the commonwealth can scarcely bear all the expenses necessary for the public safety, what are we to think will happen if, in addition to the necessary ones, there comes a swarm of drones to be fed, some claiming to be philosophers, others openly idle, or those demanding to harvest far more than those who perform the public services? But you, by correcting both these things and those, will provide a better state for everyone, and will greatly improve the commonwealth. But I return to where I digressed.

18. Perhaps it would seem consistent, in line with what has already been said, to offer this opinion: that the entire land, ^D as it is perhaps by nature, should be common to all its inhabitants, and that no one should claim any piece of land as his own; but that it should be permitted to everyone who so desires to plant wherever he wishes, to build, and to plow as much land as he wants and is able. That each person should be master of this and as much as he is able to hold, for so long as he does not neglect to work it, and [should make payments] to no one, nor be harassed by anyone, unless he has anticipated someone else in the cultivation, according to the state of affairs. [index: entries preserved]

^A If, then, a person pays [the tax] to the Helots—the third part, as we have said—he should be considered as having contributed his share to the public, and should be harassed no further by anyone, as if he had already settled completely what was owed. If, however, he pays it to soldiers or to others who serve the public interests, he should owe nothing else, and not even this to anyone, except for the service itself to which he might have been assigned.

19. But if it seems to me to be introducing strange notions, foreign to those already established, if ever someone demonstrates that these are not far better and most beneficial at once to the common interest and to one’s own, ^B that person should prevail. For indeed, those who seem to be deprived of some piece of land will be sufficiently consoled, because we will not seem so much to take away some land from them, as to render the abundance of the whole region common, provided they are not given to sloth. Everything, moreover, would thus be rendered operative and fruitful, and nothing would remain idle or neglected, if it were permitted to every person who desires it to cultivate on equal terms wherever he might wish, so that these things might be most profitable both to the common interest and to the private individual. Now, these things having been arranged as I have said, I consider that the affairs of the Peloponnese will achieve the best [possible] status. ^C For there will indeed be many who will guard the Isthmus in turns, and many who will guard the citadels of the region in every place; there will be those who will defend it if any should invade; there will be those who will undertake an expedition if there is need anywhere; and there will be sufficient provisions for the house of the divine ruler. So that, if these things were to come about in this way, the government [would be well ordered].

20. It would not, I suppose, be worse to add those [following] things to the matters already spoken of. There are always, O King, in every place and here, some who commit the gravest crimes, for which the laws were accustomed to punish [the guilty] with death. ^D Now, however, this penalty has fallen into disuse for such persons; and judges either amputate the extremities of their bodies, or they let the guilty go for the most part unpunished—of which neither seems to me to be done rightly. For such mutilation of the body is something rather barbarian, and not Greek, nor is it customary for our race, and it provides an unpleasant spectacle for the inhabitants; and the acquittal of those who are unpunished does great harm to the commonwealth. Wherefore I judge that this penalty shall be at once more honorable and more useful to the state: that, being bound, such persons be compelled to provide labor, and to assist in the construction of works—whether the wall of the Isthmus threatens to fall, or whether some other thing must be repaired—so that by this means it might not be necessary for the soldiers, except in the greatest danger, to be exhausted by these works, and [also so that] those who pay the levies, which we say they owe to the commonwealth, might not be burdened by anything else besides.

^A Perhaps we ought not to omit this either, that the absurdity of our currency must be corrected. For it is surely very foolish to use these foreign and, at the same time, base coins, bringing little profit to others, but much mockery upon ourselves. But for the correction of this, the proposal that we have already put forward might contribute no small amount. For if those who are to pay their taxes were to pay in goods instead of coin, and those who are to receive payments from the public treasury were likewise to receive them in kind, it would seem to contribute greatly to this goal. For there would be almost no need for currency, and for daily exchanges, any commonly accepted value would suffice. Moreover, the Peloponnesus does not seem to have any great need of such currency as is held in value by other men. For the country seems almost to have no need of any foreign imports ^B at all, such that it would require even such a currency, except for iron and arms; and these can easily be exchanged for our own cotton products, so that there would be no harm in spurning this foreign and base currency.

22. For there is much irrationality in these foreign garments, and it is a matter of need ^C. For it is not a small defect in a state that, when we have wool that the country produces, and flax, and byssus, and cotton, we do not fashion our garments from these as best we can, but appear to be in need of that wool carried hither from the Atlantic Ocean, and woven beyond the Ionian sea. For we shall appear much more honorable by using our own inventions, and by fashioning our garments from them, than our foreign clothing could ever appear.

23. And since I have made mention of imported goods, it would perhaps be well to discuss briefly, in general, the import and export of goods ^D. Now, of the goods that are imported, some it is better to import, and others not; and of those that are exported, some it is better to export, and others not; while some have little difference in either case. And so, these things should not be neglected or left to chance, for it is no small matter for a state whether or not this part of its business is conducted well. For as for those things which it is better to import, there should be no duty imposed for their importation upon anyone, neither citizen nor foreigner, so that they may be imported more easily; but those other things, which it is better to remain here, should be exported by those who export them only with very heavy duties, so that either their export may not be profitable to them, and, by remaining, they may provide a more abundant supply for the citizens to use, or, if they are exported in any case, they may benefit the common good, and this revenue may be added to the public treasury, which could then, no doubt, be used for embassies, and if any other unusual expense should arise.

^A 24. But such matters perhaps might better be corrected a little later. For the sake of present safety, however, those matters are especially necessary first, regarding that pure army of yours, and regarding the income—at once just and easy, and by no means trivial—which I described a little earlier as being collected from those who separately make contributions. ^B If anyone should seem to suggest something else that is better and also easier than these, let that be done. In any case, however, current affairs must by no means be neglected or overlooked, nor should they be left as they are, for they are in a poor and dangerous state. But I say that no one will find anything better or more profitable than what I have set forth, and that these things are not at all difficult to carry into effect; rather, it is difficult for affairs in this state to endure for much longer without great danger and harm. It is only necessary, Emperor, that your sovereign decree should come forth. And that is no great task, for as you are the master of all our affairs, you may decree what appears to be both best and most just, and what is most profitable for all, both collectively and individually.

25. Then, furthermore, it pertains to your office that I myself should be the one to organize these things, ^C for even if no one else dared to undertake this task, I would pledge to organize and establish the affairs of the Peloponnese in practice according to the model that I have now described in words. Only one thing, Emperor, must be avoided: that this duty should not be granted to those who do not always petition you for the most just causes. For if you govern the empire always without any change or inclination toward the worse, all these things which have now been set forth in words will be accomplished without difficulty. And I have indeed said what I think will be useful and for what reasons, and just as I have set them forth in this form of speech to your most excellent sons, so they especially require your decree, which, as if it had been ordained by some divine power, might appear honorable and be brought to fulfillment. May God grant that you may bring forth a decree that is profitable and in every respect right.

[Note on the following section]

BY THE SAME PLETHON, ADVISORY ADDRESS TO THE DESPOT THEODORE CONCERNING THE PELOPONNESE, ORATION II

1. ^A For it is generally accepted that in a ship the captain manages everything pertaining to the safety of those sailing as he deems fit, and in an army, likewise, the general manages what pertains to the victory of his followers—for otherwise, neither for those sailing nor for those warring and fighting would affairs be saved for even the slightest moment, were they not ordered by one man in either case—since we see most clearly that in such matters, where there are the greatest and most acute dangers, monarchy is both the safest and most profitable (32). Nonetheless, we see that it is also possible in a ship for any of the passengers who so wishes and believes he has some counsel contributing to the common safety, to offer advice, and in an army similarly for the soldiers to approach the general, ^B and in the one case to communicate with the captain and in the other with the general, and to set forth what has occurred to them. To those who listen, it is permitted to take up such advice, and it is permitted to reject it gently, but not harshly, for there should be much forgiveness for one who is in a common danger if he thinks that some concern for the common safety pertains to him as well. And indeed, concerning this city and nation of ours, the care of the whole has been entrusted to you, O most divine head, and your rule has descended from many kings and ancestors, and from your father, a king himself, to you as an inheritance, and it is in your power to manage our affairs in this way, wherever it may seem to you to be profitable both for yourself and for us, with everyone consenting and no one daring to propose anything contrary.

2. ^C But since this is your situation, while our affairs are carried on in great danger, as we are plotted against from many sides, both by land and by

(32) Pleasure in monarchy... Plato also considers this kind of kingdom to be preferable to all others.

great danger, as we are plotted against from many sides, both by land and by ^A sea, and I might add, from within our own country, by the barbarians and by those of our own kin—especially by those barbarians who are currently our neighbors. From them, we have been stripped of the greatest and most characteristic part of our remaining dominion. These people, who are Paropamisadae by origin, were plotted against and subdued by Alexander, son of Philip, and the Greeks who accompanied him, as a mere side-task during his march toward India. Now, after such a long time, they are exacting from us, as if we were Greeks, multiple penalties for those past deeds, and because they currently possess power many times greater than ours, they constantly continue to plot our ultimate destruction.

Since matters stand thus, it does not seem to me absurd that I, considering myself to have perhaps a slightly better understanding of our common salvation than the majority, should approach you, our prince, and propose things that I believe will be salutary for you and for us all. But I must first ask this of you: if my entire speech does not appear to be seasoned with pleasure, but rather contains some sharper elements, please allow me to prefer what is better and more useful over what is pleasant. For I see that not even physicians, when the salvation and health of the sick are at stake, refrain from the most bitter foods, drinks, and other medicines; whereas cooks, conversely, mostly corrupt bodies for the sake of the pleasure of their food. Thus, it is not always the case that what is pleasant is useful; indeed, even the most bitter things often provide relief.

^C 3. Furthermore, one must consider first of all that neither in the case of private individuals nor in public affairs should one despair of better fortune, even in the greatest difficulties, since very many have been restored to their former state. For the Trojans, who, when their homeland was captured by the Greeks, were carried away with Aeneas from Phrygia to Italy by misfortune, thereafter experienced such prosperous fortune that, after settling Rome a little later—having intermingled on equal terms with the Sabines, who had come from Lacedaemon—they obtained, from that beginning, a dominion as great and as distinguished as any in history. The Persians, too, after the dominion of Alexander and the Greeks and Macedonians, when the power of the Macedonians had been overturned by the Romans, did not recover their strength lightly or without effort, nor solely with the help of the Parthians; rather, they continued to wage war against the Romans, who were at that time most powerful, and even though they were sometimes defeated, they eventually achieved a brilliant victory, and for many years thereafter, they even exacted tribute from the Romans.

^D 4. Therefore, it is not fitting for us to abandon ourselves or to despair of our salvation; but since we ourselves expect better things after these hardships, we must also [strive] with all diligence...

and counsel as to how our affairs might be established in some state of security, and how we might act better and more fortunately, according to our powers. For there is no other way for a city or nation to act better after having acted worse—if indeed they wish to do so securely and safely, so far as human affairs allow—than by reforming their government. For there is no other cause for cities faring well or ill than a government that is well or poorly established. By chance, a city might happen to act according to judgment, but it is unstable, and such things readily tend to be overturned; but for the most part, it is through the virtue of a government that cities are saved and raised up—and conversely, they decline and are destroyed when their government has previously been corrupted.

^B 5. For the Greeks in general did not possess glory throughout the world until Hercules, the son of Amphitryon, having cleared away injustice, introduced concord and a zeal for virtue. Before Hercules, the race of the Greeks was not very illustrious, being ruled by incomers such as the Danaids and Cadmeans from among the barbarians. But after Hercules, the Greeks won many great victories both in Greece and among the barbarians. And the Lacedaemonians were not declared leaders of the Greeks until Lycurgus had legislated that renowned constitution for them; nor were they struck down and deprived of their hegemony before they had neglected that existing government. And they laid claim to power by sea—the while neglecting their land forces—but at that time their cavalry was in a very bad state, for the wealthiest men would keep the horses, but when the need arose, they would provide them along with whatever armor they happened to have; furthermore, they no longer ruled their allies with moderation. Consequently, they were defeated by the Thebans under the leadership of Epaminondas, a man who had not ^C studied the Pythagorean discipline in a perfunctory manner. Philip, too, having been raised and educated by this Epaminondas while he was held as a hostage among the Thebans, was later declared leader of the Greeks. And Alexander, his son, having been educated by this same father Philip and, furthermore, by Aristotle, became leader of the Greeks and king of Asia, having taken the rule away from the Persians.

6. The Romans also arrived at great hegemony through the virtue of their government; nor did their affairs begin to decline and fare worse until they had disturbed their established institutions. These Saracens were formerly but a small part of the Arabs, and for a time were mostly subject to the Romans; but nevertheless, when they had established certain laws for themselves, and somehow...

- ^A how seemed to possess the capacity for the expansion of cities and for warlike victories, they first led their own kindred Arabs, and then they carved away the greatest and best part of the Roman Empire, and also took possession of Libya, and having subdued the Persians, they brought them under their own polity. Other numerous nations throughout the world, having envied the laws of these people and adopting them, also seem to be fortunate; and those barbarians who were able to do the most against us, having used these same laws, have been able to achieve the greatest things. ^B Thus, too, if one were to go through the other matters in detail, he would find that both nations and cities have fared better or worse because of their better or worse polities. Therefore, if we find it necessary to consider by what means we might arrive at safety, and at the same time secure for ourselves a better state, then we must simply reform the polity, changing it from the corrupt institutions now established into others more excellent. Since there are many things that constitute a polity, and each of these makes it either better or worse, clearly a polity will be good if it consists of the most and best of these, and it will be bad if it consists of the worse ones; and if it is composed of better and more choice customs, it is good in every respect, but if it is composed of worse ones, it is base.

7. First of all, then, since there are three primary types of polity—monarchy, oligarchy, and democracy—and of each of these there are several modes by which it is possible for a state to be governed either better or worse, those who are wisest have judged monarchy to be the most excellent of all, provided it employs the noblest counselors and excellent laws, and keeps these in force. ^C And regarding counselors, first of all, a moderate number of educated men is best. For the masses, because they do not listen to one another and do not understand things easily, due to the multitude and the excess of uneducated people among them, cast their votes for the most part thoughtlessly; and those who have been reduced to a very small number, looking to their own profit, generally offer base advice. But those who are of a moderate number and are not uneducated, as one considers one thing and another suggests another, and they bring it forward for the common consideration—and being guided by the common interest—are the best and most reliable counselors. Still further, they should be of moderate fortune, neither very rich nor very destitute. For the former, because of their love of wealth, usually advise nothing other than that from which some profit might accrue to them, while the latter, because of their poverty, look to nothing else than how they might relieve their own private needs. ^D But those who are moderately situated care above all for the common safety. And enough, then, concerning counselors.

8. Laws, for their part, are excellent, if we are to speak generally, when they define for each of the parts of the city and of the nation what they are to do, and restrain those who do not...

^A mix themselves [in the affairs of others]. For in almost every city, the first and most necessary part and class, and the most numerous, is the working class, that is to say, farmers, herdsmen, and all who with their own hands gather the fruits of the earth; a second class comprises those who serve these and the rest of the city, that is, the artisan, commercial, and retail class, and whatever else may accompany these. The artisans bring into existence, in the form of substance, the items of equipment that men need for life; the merchants, in turn, transport to each region what is either missing or in excess, for they are assigned to this service because the workers do not have time for it, being occupied with their own affairs; the retailers, for their part, buy goods in bulk from the producers or merchants and sell them to each of those in need, according to when and in what quantity they require them. There are also those who hire out their physical strength, living by performing services now for one person, now for another.

9. ^B Postremum est principum genus, ^C, that is to say, the ruling class, the saviors and guardians of the entire city or nation, or, as it may happen, of several nations; the chief of whom is the king, or some leader, under whom others, having been allotted different parts of the nation or city, duly preserve each whenever something occurs in the proper way. For since it is not possible for all people to be persuaded that one must have what is equal, and not be greedy, nor lay traps for the goods of others, but there are some who have neglected their own work, or any other task contributing to the necessities of life, and prey upon the labors of others—against these, therefore, were appointed, in the case of friends, judges and other magistrates, but in the case of enemies, soldiers and those who command them. Since those who are occupied with the defense of the whole require necessities from elsewhere, taxes were imposed upon the workers, for the most part, to be paid by each, providing food for the common guardians, a sort of wage and at the same time a reward for their guardianship. And this is the origin of taxes.

10. ^D Cum porro hæc prima sint hominum in urbe genera, there are certain specific duties that belong to each, which the good law commands each to fulfill, and not to confuse among themselves. Therefore, the rulers should not undertake any ministerial task, since it is most contrary to rule to minister. Ministerial tasks include, among others, as we have said, both commerce and retail trade. The good law defines that it is not permitted for the ruler to engage in commerce or retail, nor to busy himself with any other thing that is not free. Similarly, let the soldiers be separated from the common people, and the saviors from the saved; and let the former serve as soldiers free from every contribution and protect the people; while the latter, attending to their own affairs, are sufficient for supporting [the state] and pay the necessary taxes for the rulers and the elite of the soldiers. And the great part of the army, and the most necessary, is of the same race...

^A and not foreign; for foreign troops are untrustworthy, and being often shifted about, they are wont to become enemies rather than saviors and guardians. But native troops, if properly cared for, are in every way more stable and trustworthy. Of those who work the land, the greater part and those who sustain the army should be organized according to units, and it should be a obligation common to the yoke-mates to be both the domestic one and not the foreign one. For the things of each of those working are not to be trusted if they be divided piecemeal, one working for the common good of both, and the other serving as a soldier; so that the same men may, as much as possible, be able to attain both to their own private households and to the guard of the common interests.

11. The soldiers should be distinguished into infantry ^B and cavalry separately; the infantry should be organized into companies and ranks under captains and commanders, and the cavalry into squadrons and regiments under squadron-leaders and regiment-commanders, so that they may be present quickly and in order wherever they may be needed. And one should not try to maintain both forces, the infantry and the naval, at once, but always one, and of these, if the nature of the city, the nation, and even the region permits, preferably the infantry, or he will be forced to be inferior in both, and in both cases will be defeated in most things. It is far better to place one’s confidence in the courage of the soldiers and commanders of the infantry forces than in the arts of sailors and other such base men; and to be able to obtain the necessities from the land itself, being masters of it, rather than seeking them from abroad; and [it is better] to withdraw from most of the coastal regions, since there is no absolute necessity to pay much attention to war solely with neighbors, but not [to war] with many—both alike with neighbors and with those from abroad—and of these, there are some who are unexpected; all these things are by far more beautiful and better than the others.

12. Since there are three kinds of taxes, to define them as briefly as possible: service, a fixed sum of money—whether coin or something else—and a certain portion of the produce. Service ^C is the most grievous of taxes, for it imposes much slavery upon those who bear it, inasmuch as it seizes bodies rather than money, and it provides no small annoyance to the collectors, whose presence it requires every year. But the fixed sum of money, besides the slavery, also has a great inequality, while it must be paid under necessity, and often not in proportion to the works, since it is not easy to equalize the tax to everyone's wealth, nor do the fortunes of individuals always maintain the same size (though the same sum, when collected in parts annually from more people, causes far less difficulty). But a certain portion of the produce possesses less of slavery, and is, in regard to any other tax that would yield the same amount, much lighter by the very nature of the time (since at the time when the fruits are collected by each, the tax is sought from the fruits themselves), and it also has the ^D greatest equality, since everyone pays according to their wealth. Thus it comes about that this tax is the best, since it is, as we have said, the lightest and most equitable, and if it is exacted with fairness, it is for the state...

^A a most useful thing. What sort of equity might hold here regarding this matter, one may observe from the following.

13. The fruits of the earth require these three things for their production: labor; expenses, by means of which those who will work do their work—oxen, vineyards, livestock, and other such things; and the protection of these. Thus, it would be just, if these [responsibilities] fell to three parties: to those who work, to those who provide the expenses for the work, and thirdly to those who are the guardians and saviors of the whole, whom we have called kings, princes, and other rulers. Therefore, the farmers who work at their own expense, having the power to cultivate the land in whatever place and in whatever manner they wish, should take two parts—one due to the labor, the other to the expenses—and the third part they should contribute to the public and to those entrusted with the ^B protection of the whole, being exempt from every other levy and obligation, save for those of little account. And this [contribution] is the most just tax, being both an honorable reward and providing sustenance for those assigned to public duties. And so much regarding taxes.

14. The manner of living for the other citizens, and especially for the rulers, should not be extravagant, but moderate. They should disregard foreign garments and other vain and useless things, and they should all be prepared for war and diligently see to the preparations pertaining thereto; for when expenses are transferred elsewhere, these must necessarily be reduced and become weaker. No one should be allowed to export the fruits of the land, wherever and however he might wish, unless he pays half as a tax to those wishing to export them to the allies, as they would not otherwise be exported ^C unless they were for those in not less than double need, if they were foreigners among the citizens. As for iron only, and arms, and if there is any other of the most necessary things, it should be permitted to export them in exchange without paying any duty whatsoever. We should not use currency that is debased or foreign, lest we seem to use a corrupt and alien currency in the republic, for matters of currency have no small significance in a republic. The guilty should not be punished in a strange or barbaric manner in proportion to their faults, so that even those who have been punished will be the least likely to err in the future. For as to those who seem incurable, it is much better to take them from the midst of life and release the soul from a body which it did not know how to use rightly, rather than to mutilate them and force them to remain ^D bound to a mutilated and useless body, both to themselves and to the rest of the city.

15. These are the laws of a virtuous republic, and others likewise, both greater and lesser, the head of all of which is that regarding the divine glory, to be held correctly both publicly and privately, but especially these three and most important: first, that there is a divine Being, a nature most excellent of all; second, that this divine Being cares for men and manages all human affairs, both great and small, and always administers all things rightly and justly according to His own will, never departing from His duty for any other cause, nor being swayed by the gifts of men, of which He has no need. And since this is the case, it follows that in

^A their performing sacrifices and votive offerings to the divine, in moderation and from a pious disposition, they serve as symbols that blessings come to us from above. They do not hold the opinion of either of the two forms of impiety, nor do they fail to perform these acts; nor, on the other hand, do they ruin their own households and public interests by excessive expenditures, as if they would achieve something more by the opulence of their first-fruits and offerings. Rather, such people do not offer these as if they were buying favor, which would make them subject to the third kind of impiety. It is impossible that, where such opinions (both public and private) prevail and are held, virtue should not also follow—along with all zeal for the good—among all those with whom these sentiments have taken hold.

16. ^B Indeed, all the great sins of mankind arise from contradictory opinions. For there always exist some men who are not sound in their thoughts regarding these matters: some believing that there is no divine element at all in existence; others believing that it exists but does not care for human affairs; and others believing that it both exists and cares, but that it is suggestible and can be seduced by sacrifices, votive offerings, and prayers, and does not require justice in every instance. For from these two contradictory forms of opinion regarding the divine, as if from springs, two modes of life emerge that are most opposed to each other: the one of those who place the good solely or primarily in virtue, and the other of those who make pleasure the end of life. For since man is a composite nature, formed of both ^C divine and mortal substance—as seems evident to all, both Greeks and barbarians, insofar as they partake of reason—and since his soul is the divine part and his body the mortal part, those who follow the divine element within them and hold correct opinions concerning their kindred nature, and who direct their whole life according to the standard of virtue, become the authors of all good among men. But those who are led by their mortal and bestial part, holding wrong opinions about the divine and referring all things to pleasure, are, conversely, the authors of great evils. Between these two, moreover, are those who strive for glory and those who strive for wealth; for the former is the image of virtue, and the latter is the provision for pleasures.

17. Now, among those who have ^D embraced the good, there have been others in every age, including Hercules, son of Amphitryon, whom we have spoken of as having made the Greek race most famous in the world by establishing a good constitution and a zeal for noble things, having first acquired virtue for himself through many labors and contests. So too Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian, when his brother the king died without children, and the queen, sensing that she was pregnant, promised to marry him and destroy the embryo if he would take the kingdom, he did not consent to the act, since it was contrary to justice; instead, he saved the life of his brother’s son, restored to him his paternal heritage, and some time later, having been appointed lawgiver by his people, he established that renowned republic.

^A He later made it the most reputable of cities among both Greeks and Barbarians. Alexander also, the king of the Macedonians, who, through virtue and greatness of soul, became the leader of the Greeks, secured the empire of Asia for both them and the Macedonians alike. And among the Barbarians, Cyrus the Persian, who, by his own virtue, liberated the Persians, his own citizens, from the tyranny of the Medes, and made them masters of both these people and the rest of Asia.

18. Among the others, there are some like Alexander of Troy, son of Priam, who in the divine judgment and the choice of ways of life, despising Hera, the guardian goddess of virtue, and despising Athena, who presides over glory, ^B chose and preferred Aphrodite, as the goddess of pleasure. Therefore, having neglected the kingship offered by Hera—a life most blessed according to virtue—as well as the power in wars offered by Athena—a life filled with love of honor and concerned with glory—he received Helen, the daughter of Tyndareus, the Laconian wife of Menelaus the son of Atreus, as a prize for this unjust judgment. As if she were the culmination of pleasure, she who seemed to be the most beautiful in form among those at that time, but in soul was otherwise most shameful and an adulteress, he destroyed both himself and his fatherland along with her. Sardanapalus the Assyrian also, who, through effeminacy and luxury, took away the empire of Asia from his own citizens, the Assyrians, and ceded it to the Medes. And of the Romans, Nero, who, ^C having committed other terrible and impious deeds, and having killed his mother, finally perished miserably himself; for he desired to destroy his fatherland, but because of the virtue of the Romans which still existed at that time, he was unable to do so.

19. And there are always many others, both of the rulers and of private individuals, of this same sort, perhaps committing greater or lesser sins. Some of these regard justice, truth, and the common good as merely a shadow and a name, while they gape after gold and other such things, measuring happiness by garments, silver, and gold, and by their daily ease and luxury, while regarding the safety of themselves, their children, and their entire fatherland, ^D and their freedom, as of no account. There are some who, as long as the matter is free from gold and the like, and they are considered on their own merits, are most vehement defenders of justice and truth; but as soon as gold or something similar to gold appears, their tongue is immediately bound, their mouth is shut, and they become silent concerning justice, while all that vehemence is turned toward the contrary. For when republics are governed by such men as these, they are always unhappy; for even if very upright laws seem to be established, everything is scrambled rashly and indiscriminately. For states do not only need excellent laws, but also laws that are supreme; and laws become supreme through the virtue of the rulers, which we have said follows most of all upon the three types of piety and the highest forms.

^A 20. But since we are in need of nothing else at present but salvation and the means of being saved (for we see that things have gone for us from the very great Roman empire, so that, with all else having perished, only two cities are left in Thrace, and a part of the Peloponnese—and not even the whole of that, and if any little island still remains safe), and since I have said that the safety of cities proceeds from nothing else but a sound constitution, we must amend the constitution for ourselves with the most excellent laws and with rulers taken from the powerful and the best. For by how much our situation has fared worse, and it happens that we stand weak against the most powerful of enemies, by so much the more is it necessary to oppose them with a constitution as sound as possible, which will compensate for the weakness of our affairs. And through what manner of means a most sound constitution comes to be, we have already set forth the most essential points, and have explained them in relation to the present need of affairs—things which are not at all difficult. For those things which depend upon the resolve of a single person for their success or failure ought not to be considered as very difficult.

21. I refer especially to your resolve. For if to you, who are now our leader and possess the greatest power among us, God should inspire a desire to accomplish something great and noble in life, and if you become genuinely and sincerely disposed toward virtue and the noble life, these things will not be difficult to establish, nor will there be any further cause to despair of our salvation. Indeed, everything depends upon this, and our safety or destruction hangs upon it. For if you were to seek what great and noble thing you might accomplish in life, you would not easily find anything greater or more noble than to save the race and to secure the kingdom from the remaining resources. And it is not possible to secure it in any other way than by establishing a sound constitution; nor could a most sound constitution come to be in any other way than by that which we have just now explained—the very one which cities throughout all time that have been well governed have most especially employed.

^D 22. But if you yourself only wish it, and turn your mind to this resolve, you will not with difficulty find those to assist you in the work, assigning those who are more virtuous first to the offices, and correcting the others with persuasion, benefits, and punishments; employing these two in proportion: the desire for good things, and anger against those who do wrong. For it is not possible otherwise to acquire good things when they are absent, unless one both desires them and exerts oneself for them, nor to preserve good things when they are present, unless one employs an anger that obeys reason. And begin the constitution of the republic, if it seems good, from the counselors, and appoint these for yourself and for the others and for the multitude as most capable, as we have said—for it is good to begin from that point—and with the agreement of the majority, thus finally proceed to change and amend the existing state of affairs. And teach them also how great the danger is in which our affairs lie, and that we have need of nothing else so much as the—

^A cure. But this is not possible unless we reform the state. For even in the case of those who are sick, if the customary regimen is of no benefit, there is no other way to be rid of the evil except by abandoning it and seeking one that will be of benefit.

23. Next, cleanse the greater part of the army, dividing the Peloponnesians into two groups: those who serve in the military and those who provide the tax, according to the capacity of each, so that the same men are no longer both serving and being taxed at the same time. For you will not be able to save both yourself and the people unless you overcome the enemy; and you will not overcome the enemy unless you possess an army that is benevolent and courageous rather than large. For an army that is taxed finds it very difficult to maintain both its courage and its loyalty; rather, most things—both courage and the loyalty of the taxed soldiers—are bound to perish.

24. You must also cleanse the magistrates ^B of those engaged in commerce, and warn everyone that they must not engage in trade or business henceforth, but must truly be magistrates, standing watch for the safety of the many, not pursuing menial trades—and those of wicked servants who injure the affairs of the wretched laborers with unjust weights and by every means they can. If, moreover, any who were formerly merchants have been pushed into offices, these too must either be made to vacate their trade if they appear fit to serve as magistrates, or be removed from office. For it is not right that such things should remain undifferentiated—that merchants should be mixed with magistrates, and soldiers should be performing the work of Helots, and that the affairs of our salvation should be in the hands of Helots. Such would be the mark of a most vile state, which will never accomplish anything great or noble. For we do not use donkeys for the work of noble horses, nor noble horses for the work of donkeys; and I believe we do not even use the same horses for all the same tasks, but keep some distinct for war and others distinct for carrying burdens. Such things should be distinguished in men as well, and not mingled.

25. And as for the many small and unequal taxes, take them all away and replace them with that single one which we previously said was, by the most just account, the third part of the produce; for this will be at once the lightest for those who pay it and the most beneficial for the common good. For someone will be less likely to flee because of this tax, and will be less likely to suffer injury at the hands of the tax-collectors—since those collecting ^D it naturally wish for as much as possible to be produced for them, so that the tax itself may be larger for them as well. As for these Helots, first select from them as many as you think necessary for your own household; then concede the rest to the magistrates and the leaders of the soldiers, according to the number you wish to assign to each. Once they are distributed, compel each man, in proportion to the number of Helots assigned to him, to maintain his clients—certain military servants—and not to squander the public funds rashly, nor to bring it about that the expenses meant for our safety are shamefully dissipated in ways our enemies would pray for, while they themselves appear to be looking after things, but are in fact diverting food and great expenses away from you and others, instead of turning everything toward preparations for war; for the burden of expense rests upon no one more than upon the king, or the commander of the soldiers, and the magistrate. For the more they apply to the war

resources by spending them on others, so much the more do they lose their own value, becoming more ^A contemptible to enemies and more useless to friends.

26. Consider this also from the following examples of nature. The eagle is regarded as the king of birds and a bird royal, and it has long been held sacred to Zeus; yet it is not at all variegated, nor does it have plumage that shines with gold. The peacock, on the other hand, is indeed variegated and golden-shining, but it is not at all royal in its nature. Many other birds, far inferior to the peacock, are decorated and adorned with a greater variety of colors; so that there is a danger that if someone prides himself on variegated and gold-embroidered clothing and things of that sort, he should not think himself any more august than the peacock’s beauty. Consider also this: which is more august or more pleasant, to be inclined mostly in this direction, and to have secured oneself for war from the resources available—with modest clothing and moderate living in other respects—so as to despise enemies and be secure regarding one’s dominion and kingdom; or to be wrapped in gold-embroidered clothing, and to tremble and fear the enemies? And if you were shepherds, in which way would you dispense the milk? Would you yourselves consume a portion of it, and for the other part rear dogs that are robust and sheep-guarding, defending the flock against those wild beasts that lie in wait, so that the flock might be preserved for you to be shepherds and to enjoy the fruits for a long time? Or would you, neglecting this, gorge yourselves immoderately on one part and wash your garments in it, while for the other part, instead of robust dogs, you rear little Melitean lapdogs and foxes, or bears—creatures most voracious, yet least ^B watchful? For by the treachery of such, the flock would quickly be torn apart and perish. For to me, you seem to rear some men similar to these, who come to you seemingly for flattery but are actually ready to swallow up everything, being unable to restrain their desire at any point.

27. But if you wish both to do what is most just and what is most beneficial for yourself at the same time and for the rest of mankind, and to pursue the true and pure pleasure that is worthy of a noble and good man, turn your zeal in that direction with all your might, omitting nothing and offering no pretexts, whether it has seemed otherwise to any of the former kings or leaders, or to you yourself at some time concerning the same matters, or whether the affair is not about to please certain people; but move everything, and attempt everything that seems to contribute to the common salvation. Knowing that even physicians are not compelled to abide by their own previous decrees in every instance, but they move everything and spare nothing, whatever seems to be of benefit for the present need; and they cut and burn, and sometimes even amputate a hand or a foot for the sake of the salvation of the whole body. For some of these things you will do yourself if you should wish; others you will solicit from the most divine emperor and father for the sake of public safety, and he will not be difficult in granting them to you when he understands the goal to which they point, admiring simultaneously your talent and your divine zeal. As for the things which most especially and immediately seem to be...

seek of the father the power to yield for the sake of the common salvation; and he, I suppose, will readily yield, if he sees you turned toward this, admiring both this intention and your divine impulse. Having accomplished these things, which seem to contribute most and primarily to safety, you will not find it difficult to obtain the rest, whatever is required for the virtue and order of the state. So that you will be able to establish for us the most virtuous state of all. Consider also that by as much as the honor we pay you is greater, so much the greater would be the loss if anything contrary to your wishes should happen; and that it behooves you most of all to care for the common salvation, and to give it attention, neither delaying nor putting it off. For it is not permitted to delay, when dangers are already near, nor is it good to put off such matters in any other way. Nor does Hesiod seem to speak foolishly when he says:

Ever the procrastinating man struggles with woes 53. ^A

GEORGIUS PLETHON

Argument of the oration in which Manuel Palæologus eulogized his deceased brother, the Despot Theodore.

PLETHON'S FAIR EXPLANATION OF THE FOUR VIRTUES.

Virtue is a habit by which we are good. ^B And indeed, in truth, God is good; but we human beings become good by following God, as far as is possible for man. Since man is partly something in himself, ^C and partly in relation to another—and this is either in relation to some other of existing things, or in relation to some part of himself, and I mean here the inferior part of our nature, and this, again, deals either with violent afflictions or with voluntary things—insofar as man is something in himself (for he is a rational animal), there arises in him the virtue called prudence, which renders to this power its most appropriate function; but insofar as he is in relation to some other thing—in relation to some other of all existing things, justice, which renders to each one of us ^D what is appropriate, according to what we are, and gives to each of those things...

^A that which is fitting, with respect to violent passions, having courage, and with respect to voluntary ones, temperance, preserving in each of these the worth of the better part within us against the worse, in each instance. We must speak again with greater precision about these things, having started from the most imperfect, and thus proceeding by reason according to nature to the most perfect.

Now, God is in truth needy of nothing, being most perfect, and as far as possible self-sufficient; but for a human to be needy of nothing is altogether impossible; yet one may find those who need fewer or more things, on account of virtue and vice. Therefore, he who needs the fewest things holds himself most similarly to God, and ^B is best established in his own state; but he who begins to need more things is most unlike God and is in the worst condition. Temperance is this part of virtue: a habit of the soul that is self-sufficient regarding the fewest things necessary for life. And of these fewest things necessary for life, some are so by number, others by their power. These would be things which it is possible to obtain without great business; such as those that are more easily provided, cheaper, and especially easier, rather than those that are more difficult to procure, and are more valuable and harder. To embrace these rather than the others would be the duty of a temperate man who is content with his lot.

Furthermore, God is also immovable. But for a man to be unmoved by anything is neither possible nor good. For one should not, perhaps, be so unmoved even towards good things, but rather, while being immovable towards good things, and not being moved away from his established state by the violent occurrences of life, nor being moved by the worse part of himself—which is naturally prone to suffer ^C from each of the things that befall it—to become himself worse, this would be best and similar to God. And this part of virtue is called courage: a habit of the soul that is not moved by the violent passions of life.

Since each of us is born, first, as a work of God, not at all foreign, but in some way domestic and related, and then as a part of other, larger parts of this universe—which is a whole, composed of many things—in order to fulfill some place everywhere, as would be most beneficial to himself and to the whole; therefore, one should by no means abandon this place in which God has set him, but must persevere and, to the best of his ability, perform what it seems to require. For any part, if it is in harmony with that of which it is a part, and does not dissent, will be in the best state and according to nature.

And since each of us is a part, now of a household, now of some association, of a city, of a nation, and in general of this whole universe, by rendering to each what is due: to parents, such as is appropriate for a child towards his parents; to a child, such as is appropriate for a parent towards his children; to others, such as belongs towards others; to a companion, towards his associates, to fellow-diners, towards neighbors as a neighbor, in an assembly towards other assemblies, as a citizen towards citizens, and furthermore towards God, such as is appropriate for a servant, and, by his work, towards his master and creator; by rendering these things thus, he will both save himself—that which he is in relation to each—and follow God, remaining most firmly in the place where he has been assigned, and will be in the best state, as one following the best. And justice would be this part of virtue, a habit of the soul ^D

that preserves what is fitting for each one of us, in regard to what we are, in relation to anything else. Since man, considered in himself, is naught else but a rational animal, it is clear that he has been brought into this universe as a kind of spectator, as if at a festival, to examine as far as he is able and to contemplate what each of the things that exist is, how they stand in relation to one another, and why each of the things that occur happens. This would also be prudence, the remaining and most perfect part of virtue, ^A a habit of the soul that is contemplative of the things that exist, just as each of them is. There are, then, four greatest parts of virtue: temperance, fortitude, justice, and prudence. Of each of these there must also be three parts; first, of temperance. Since temperance is self-sufficiency regarding the necessities of life, and we have need of three things for life—pleasures, wealth, and glory—there should be a part of temperance for each of these, guarding the self-sufficiency and utility of each: regarding pleasures, modesty; regarding wealth, ^B liberality; regarding glory, moderation. Fortitude likewise has three parts. Since it is a state of being unmoved by the violent sufferings of life, and of these sufferings some we endure of our own free will for the sake of greater goods—as when we choose labors or dangers or something else, without which it is impossible to attain what is required—while others are involuntary and come upon us even when we do not expect them. And of these again, some, to speak simply, come from the Divine and from the One who orders this whole, such as the so-called calamities; others again come from men, such as the annoyances and difficulties caused by some towards us. If there be, then, for each of these an individual part of fortitude preserving that which is unmoved and impassive under the worst of each, we have: nobility of spirit regarding things chosen; regarding the involuntary: steadfastness ^C regarding things from the Divine, and gentleness regarding things from men. Justice, since it is the salvation of the things equal to this very thing which we are in relation to each one (and indeed we are the works and possessions of God, and toward men we are surely akin to all, even if we are otherwise related to others), there would also be its parts: piety regarding things toward the Divine, and toward men, civic duty regarding public matters, and kindness regarding private matters. Prudence is concerned in one way with things divine and eternal, in another with nature and the things that come into being, and in another with our own human affairs. Thus, there would be its parts: regarding human affairs, good counsel; ^D regarding nature, physical science; and regarding things divine, piety toward God. These are the primary forms of the virtues, and this is their number; it is possible to divide them into more and smaller parts, but perhaps it is sufficient up to this point. The beginning of these most of all, from which one might begin and gain each of the others, would be modesty. For it is this virtue that attempts most of all to rule over the pleasures, which are the first to tyrannize us from our youth, dividing their necessities.

^A Some of these are illicit, base, and unbecoming to a human being, and this virtue completely rejects and prunes them from the soul, both them and their desires; it embraces those necessary for the life of each individual and for the common life, but as for those which are not necessary, nor base, it disregards them, yet completely prunes their desires, so that a person may be as self-sufficient as possible, rejoicing in that self-sufficiency rather than in these bodily pleasures themselves. Immediately, therefore, this virtue begins to separate us from the beasts and inferior things, which are driven by sweetness and by what is not sweet toward what is to be sought and what is to be shunned. ^B It defines both what is necessary and what is not, and what is preferable and what is not. Furthermore, it holds up the kinship toward superior kinds, and imposes order and arrangement upon these pleasures, while at the same time rendering them unencumbered and light by means of self-sufficiency. This, then, is the beginning, or origin, for the others; since indeed all the parts of temperance, as also those of courage, justice, and prudence, if one were to follow the whole of life with these, would be best directed. The head of all of them, to which one must extend all of them, and without which there would be no profit in the others, would be piety, most of all. For it is not by ^C chance that we share in superior kinds, but it is in that we most excel the inferior ones. And nothing else is the most excellent among our own faculties except intellect. And of those things which are understood, and in which the intellect is engaged, and indeed of all things that exist, God is the most excellent. If, therefore, we enjoy the most excellent being of the whole universe through that which is most excellent within our own nature, we shall thus live most blessedly; so that the knowledge of God would be the most blessed thing in human life, which is also the very head of piety.

After modesty, generosity should be sought. For this virtue, by preparing ^D people to endure labors and to take upon themselves dangers, renders them most effective in pursuing many duties, and makes them most capable of achieving the other virtues. Yet one must not be ignorant of that which happens to modest and generous men, as if it were outside the common rule of life. For if one considers the matter rightly, the life of the modest does not have fewer pleasures, nor are those who are not modest or generous surpassed in labors by those who are ignoble. For the nature of pleasures itself seems to be such that it abandons all the more those who flee labors but love the pleasures themselves and are obsessed with them; and through satiety and habit, it causes their perception of them to become more dull, and quickly renders them for the most part incapable of them, while at the same time—to the temperate and...

^A noble—insofar as they embrace those pleasures which are necessary for life, they occur with greater vigor and even without harm. And the nature of labors indeed seems to be such that they press heavily upon those who shun them and pursue pleasures, but flee more from those who do not care for them and persevere in them, since through habit they hardly perceive their sensation, and at the same time possess more robust bodies, because they have sustained many labors. After nobility of spirit, ^B confidence immediately takes hold of us, already exercised by the endurance of things, both voluntary and troublesome (which, however, are in some way within our power, so that we may endure as much as we wish), and bids us bear with an even mind even those things which are not voluntary, and which occur by divine providence. In the first place, it teaches that we are not a sack of flesh, nor a pint of blood, nor anything else of that kind, but are rational, immortal souls, exposed to no external or alien evil, except for that which adheres to us and our opinions on account of wickedness; and it demonstrates that we are clothed in these bodies, which we should use insofar as God allows, but that they are not precisely even our own, and much less so are other things and riches, which serve the bodies. Therefore, the troubles of these things should not be drawn into the soul, nor should they be considered to pertain to us. Since, therefore, we know that those things do not pertain to us at all, it is right to neglect them, then to consider that in the remaining time we would gain nothing by grieving, ^C except that the part of us which is perturbed—which alone we can correct—is that which reasons, and whose nature it is to look after all our affairs. Finally, we must know that each thing is constituted as it is, and so it happens; and that it is well and excellently constituted by the highest good, and in our interest (for it is not right to speak otherwise), and perhaps also for another reason known to us, though no less, in accordance with reason, because they can be for us disciplines and chastisements destined for the healing of vices and the correction of life, which are sent like medicines to our ailing souls because of foreign danger, while for others among us, they are as games and excitations, which render those who exercise their bodies for the contests both more illustrious and stronger. ^D Therefore, on no account should one be indignant at such things on either of these grounds; but if we wish to follow that true reason, we should even rejoice that we are being helped, as is fitting, and offer thanksgiving to God, not only for other goods, but also for these very things. After pleasures and labors, glory and ignominy attack us more seriously and perhaps more violently; these are more human and not wild affections, yet our soul nonetheless requires some care regarding them, so that while...

we are being neglected by them, we do not attend our mind to the things of the base and foolish, or to certain trifles. ^B Next, liberality would easily come to one who has already practiced these virtues. For money is pursued partly for the procuring of pleasures, partly for the averting of pains, and partly for the sake of some empty glory. But he who has practiced ^C paying little heed to these things would also require less money, providing from his more easily acquired wealth the necessities for life, and while maintaining propriety, beautifying his surroundings within his means. And in this way, he does not spurn the beauty of material things—which is in a way kin to the soul—nor does he reject it, but he fears lest, should he become more studious of its beauty than is fitting, he might unwittingly render the elegance that is in his soul less honored and of lower value. Furthermore, ^D gentleness also fittingly takes its place after these virtues, when this knowledge is joined to it: that we are our own masters regarding the opinions that reside within us and arise within us, but we are not altogether masters of the souls of others. Necessity compels them too to follow that which appears to them to be good, and it is impossible for them to do anything other than what appears to be the good. If, therefore, it must be demonstrated by us to them that it is no less in their interest to embrace our opinion, and as long as we are unable to achieve this, we ought to blame ourselves rather than them, in that we are unable to persuade them. Thus, in this part also, it will go well for us if we strive not to be angry with men. He, moreover, who neglects both pleasures and labors and empty glory and money, and who has learned to endure both divine and human things lightly, he not undeservedly would also be more apt for society in human dealings, being studious of goodness, since he knows that it is far more excellent to bestow a benefit than to receive one, and that for the one who confers the benefit it is more advantageous—manifestly because one comes closer to the likeness of God—but that to do evil is far worse than to be enticed by evil, since the latter is contrary to the more excellent thing. And that one ought to pursue the former as the most excellent thing to the best of his ability, but to avert the latter by any means, since one must fear lest the worst of evils befall him, and at the same time show himself to be in harmony with the preservation of this universe, as one who is also a part of that universe, not embracing the place of some destructive thing, but the parts of a savior and benefactor, by which manner it will also go well with him, just as...

^A he might bring an addition to his own acquisition of happiness: first, indeed, by the best part of himself, his reasoning faculty; then, by using this concerning the whole, and contemplating what each thing is, and through what it comes to be, and what things are possible according to nature, and what are impossible. In no small degree do these things concern the human nature, its lifestyle and enjoyments, for it would not even be possible to compare things of such magnitude; but rather, by living in this whole with his soul, and receiving it genuinely, and harvesting the most excellent life, and one most similar to those ^B more excellent beings. Next, the state, providing for us the commonality concerning one’s kin, would remove the most things, since even according to nature, the more serious and more perfect kinds happen to share with one another more than the lesser and more vile ones do. For plants, or even the whole of mindless nature, would least of all share with one another; but animals, all of them, just as they already participate in sensation, would most of all accomplish this. Since even the very thing that senses and lives shares more in some way than anything of the mindless and soulless things, if indeed the whole suffers with its parts and feels with them, such that this is, perhaps, even life, and a certain communion and sympathy for it, both for itself and for the things falling upon each. Among beasts, those that are more gregarious than those that do so less are the more perfect and somehow closer to us; and the human race differs by far from all beasts in the commonality of life, and it is natural that the better kinds should live more communally; so that ^C the good citizen taking care of this most of all, and living for the common good, would not have achieved the least for himself, not only because he is living in this way more humanly according to nature, but also because he is being assimilated as much as possible to the more perfect kinds, and moreover, saving his own, choosing the common before it, and not the latter before the common; since while the common is well-ordered, it is natural for both it and his own to be saved, whereas if the individual is separated from the common, both are destroyed. After the state, holiness is to be pursued, which prepares us well for the service of and communion with the Divine, and does not permit either public or private impiety and superstition ^D in the soul. For concerning prayers, and obeisances, and hymns, and rites, and first-fruits, and all such things, the holy man will neither hold them in contempt, as though such things were useless to himself, nor will he perform them as if God were in need of any of these, or moved by them—for He is immovable and in no way needy of those—but rather as one who will benefit himself most. He will abstain from wickedness and, through the exercise of virtue and the confession of the Cause of our good things, and for these reasons he will offer and consecrate these things, making piety the head of holiness itself and of all virtue, as has been said before, and directing everything toward the contemplation of God, the blessed life, so that it follows that the good and noble man is the same who is happy and blessed.

^C And so, to that extent that one participates in virtue, he is such; but the base man is miserable to the extent that he participates in vice. Nobility and low birth, offices and private life, glory and ignominy, wealth and poverty, pleasures and toils, health and disease, longevity and death, and all such things, are in themselves truly indifferent, being neither good nor evil. For none of these things concerns us in ourselves; but the use of either of these, when joined with virtue, becomes good and brings happiness to us, while with vice it becomes harmful and miserable.

So much concerning virtue and its parts from among many things that could be said, if one were to take up for consideration the main heads of the arguments that could be held regarding each one. To acquire virtue, nature is first required, and divine fate, without which it is permitted to possess no good; then also institutions and knowledge; finally, use and exercise. Whichever of these you are destitute of, you will be in large part imperfect. For in what way could anyone become a perfectly good man, if he has not been instructed by any discipline regarding each virtue—what sort of good it is for man, and where, and in what way? But if anyone has been instructed by discipline and knowledge, he will be the most perfect of all if he adds use and exercise, and judges that which proceeds from character to be pleasant, best, and happy. Nevertheless, in every way vice is to be fled. But labor must be given to virtue, so that we may not be miserable, but happy and blessed, both in this life, as far as it is possible, and also after death, having attained a place proper and suitable to a life lived according to reason, we may be even far more blessed. Amen.

SUMMARY OF VIRTUE BY ORGANIZATION

The genera of the virtues are prudence, justice, fortitude, temperance. ^D The species, however, if they are arranged under prudence, are: worship of God, natural wisdom, the ratio of taking counsel; if under justice: holiness, administration of the republic, goodness; if under fortitude: confidence, generosity, gentleness; if under temperance: moderation, liberality, modesty. And the worship of God is concerned with divine things, natural wisdom with natural things, the ratio of taking counsel with human actions; holiness with things relating to the divine, the administration of the republic with involuntary matters, generosity with choices, and gentleness...

with what pertains to men. And moderation resides in glory, liberality in money, while modesty holds the pleasures subject to itself.

Virtue, prudence, justice, courage, temperance, piety, natural [wisdom], prudent counsel; holiness, citizenship, goodness; magnanimity, nobility, gentleness, moderation, liberality, decency.

[The Greek character sequence is a corruption of the text above, omitted].

Decency, nobility, magnanimity, moderation, liberality, gentleness, goodness, prudent counsel, natural [wisdom], citizenship, holiness, piety.

COMPARISON OF VIRTUES

GENERAL VIRTUES: PRUDENCE: DEI CULTUS (Worship of God). NATURAL WISDOM. PRUDENT COUNSEL. JUSTICE: SANCTITAS (Holiness). REPUBL. ADMINISTRATION. BONITAS (Goodness). FORTITUDE: FIDUCIA (Confidence). GENEROSITAS (Generosity). LENITAS (Gentleness). TEMPERANTIA (Temperance): MODERATIO (Moderation). LIBERALITAS (Liberality). MODESTIA (Modesty).

SPECIAL VIRTUES: Caput 12 (Head 12) [9] [8] [11] [10] [7] [5] [3] [6] [4] [5] Principium 1 (Principle 1)

These numbers show the progressions of the virtues so that it may be known from where one must start and where one must end.

THE COMPARISON OF THE PLATONIC AND ARISTOTELIAN PHILOSOPHY OF GEORGIUS GEMISTUS PLETHON

TO THE MOST REVEREND PRINCE, LORD OTHMAR, ABBOT OF ST. GALL, ON THE TRACTATE CONCERNING THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN PLATONIC AND ARISTOTELIAN PHILOSOPHY. PREFACE OF GEORGIUS CHARIANDRUS On the utility of philosophy as adapted to the knowledge of divine things.

There is no mortal, most reverend prince, among those using sound judgment, who is not held by a certain innate and engrafted love and desire for wisdom; which very fact Aristotle himself, that most skilled investigator of wisdom among the pagans, and therefore one who acquired the name of philosopher above all others, indicates and confirms in his books; but also that Solomon, most exalted of kings in the Church, who proved himself not only a most ardent lover of wisdom, but also most wise, and that by divine oracle. For he, indeed, preferring wisdom to all other gifts of which human nature is capable, prayed for it alone from God, the best and greatest, and...

^A seriously asked that it be granted to him by divine favor. For in a certain place he prays to God thus: "Send her from thy holy heavens, and from the seat of thy greatness and glory, that she may be with me and labor with me." And elsewhere: "Thou shalt give to thy servant a docile heart, that he may be able to discern between good and evil." And for this very reason, the leaders and patrons of the Peripatetic school do not seem to have wrongly established wisdom, conjoined with pleasure, as the highest good and the true happiness of man.

Furthermore, it is not just any wisdom that the sacred prophets bid us embrace, but only that which shows us a road—or, to speak more openly, reveals a path—to the fear and knowledge of God, or rather to wisdom revealed from heaven, and which aims at that end, namely that we may acknowledge God, celebrate Him, and rejoice in His veneration. For God, the best and greatest, established this end for man, and for this reason He fashioned him with such art and adorned him with such a variety and excellence of gifts, and placed him in this world, an abode both most ample and most beautiful, so that he might acknowledge and honor the Creator and follow Him with perpetual praises and supreme joy. Nor, indeed, must any other goal of wisdom be acknowledged than this; and therefore we ought to repudiate all knowledge that does not promote the knowledge and fear of God, and, since truth is one and simple, to embrace that one and only wisdom.

Although our mind, impeded by this earthly mass and corrupted by the contagion of sin, cannot deeply peer into the natures of things or discern their internal forms, yet God has not wished us in this life to be altogether idle, but to be ^B perpetually exercised, and for the talent committed to each to be brought into the light, so that at length, through many and various proofs in this life, we may be rendered more prepared for the enjoyment of that perfect contemplation which we expect in the future life, and therefore may not be found altogether naked if we desire to be clothed in the garment of that heavenly wisdom. Since this is so, I cannot help but admire the wicked barbarism of certain people who, serving their belly and abdomen, disdain and contemn all studies of wisdom with proud arrogance, and, with a mind that reeks of the mire of intemperance, dictate—by the prompting of some little reasoning or deception—that nothing can be perfectly known in this life, and that we are blind even in the contemplation of the most manifest things, and therefore all things are uncertain, especially those which, already many centuries ago, were not so much discovered and put forward by great men as they were tested and proven by the certain judgments of the senses.

For although there are very many things to the knowledge of which we have not yet arrived, and it has truly been said by Themistius that the greatest part of those things which are held by men is the smallest part of those things which are unknown, we are not, however, ignorant of everything, nor do we look upon things subject to sense only in the manner of brutes; rather, by the benefit of a certain diviner breath within us, of which divine bounty has not made us partakers in vain, we perceive in a certain way the subject forms of things and are able to distinguish these from the very natures subject to sense. But especially the knowledge of natural things leads us to the saving and pleasant contemplation and apprehension of divine things, so that those who are indeed imbued with the studies of wisdom can demonstratively know certain things ^C about God, which others know and believe only by faith, and this for many reasons. For those divine things are very abstruse and remote from the senses, and the sharpness of our mind does not shine forth immediately from birth, but, using the progress of long time, acquires a more solid intellect.

Furthermore, there are not a few—nay, rather, many—things the knowledge of which is required before anyone can conceive in his mind the demonstration of divine things, nor can these be attained in a brief space of time. Add to this that many labor under some vice and defect of nature, and possess a body either weak or depraved, in which their divine, imprisoned soul cannot exert its powers or reach any higher knowledge by contemplation. I omit the fact that it is clear that the greatest part of men are busy with providing the things necessary for life and are therefore distracted from all contemplation of divine things. If these impediments are removed from the minds of men, then certainly, by contemplating the abstruse and hidden nature of things, they will arrive at some knowledge of divine things and, from the visible, as Holy Scripture speaks, they will acknowledge the invisible grace and power of God as if it were subject to the senses.

For does not human reason—to declare the same by some example—convince us, beyond the most sacred authority of our faith, that the world at some time began and did not exist from eternity? Certainly, if anyone makes the world eternal, he makes it either to be God or equal to God, which everyone sees to be altogether absurd and to be conceded by no sane person. The same person who denies that the world was made will also deny that it will perish, nor will it escape the notice of men that he is well called a microcosm, who certainly, like the world, has not always existed, nor is he accustomed to endure perpetually. What then? Shall we not ask from him who makes the world eternal why, through such a series and course of so many and such innumerable centuries, that worship which we now use did not exist, or why the use of letters, by which alone eternity is supported for memory? Why do some things become known now, which it would be consistent to expect, if the world were eternal, to have arrived at use and notoriety in the course of so many infinite centuries past? ^D Furthermore, since it is established that the world is governed by divine providence and that those things which are made and destroyed come to be and are destroyed by the same, it will not be alien to reason to believe that the same God also fashioned this entire universe, and therefore that the world did not exist from eternity. And finally, the world itself, as Augustine says, testifies of itself that it has been made. For through its most orderly mutability and mobility, and through the most beautiful appearance of all visible things, it demonstrates in a certain way that it has been made, and proclaims that it could not have been made except by God, who is ineffably and invisibly great and invisibly beautiful. Therefore, he who denies that the world was made will have to confess either that God is not the artificer of things, or that He can do nothing that is supremely excellent and outstanding, which no one who...

thinks or exists anywhere can deny exists in his mind: and what ^A at last will that work be? Is it not the world? But if to that Peripatetic, who asserts the world to be eternal, these things seem to be dialectical or probable rather than apodictic or scientific, come, let us argue further with him using arguments drawn from nature. And first, it is established that it cannot be that anything is eternal which is composed of principles subject to corruption, such as we know the world to be, whose parts are constantly changing, while some things come into being and others perish. Nor does it matter that some make the noblest part of the world, namely the heavens, immortal and subject to no dissolution. For in the same way, one might also call a man immortal on account of his most important part, which we call the soul, and which we judge to be exempt from all corruption. I omit now that it can be proved by many and indubitable reasons that the heaven is not exempt ^B from corruption, and that it, too, is eventually tending toward destruction. But if anyone believes the world, like a river, is constantly flowing, and that the part of it which has flowed away is always being restored by a fountain as if it were perennial, he is indeed constituting a new world all the time, and concedes that what he did not wish to admit was made, has now been made infinitely many times. For just as a river always runs in the same bed, but constantly draws in other water, so it must necessarily follow that today's world is not the same as the one that was yesterday, but that a new one succeeds it in turn. He who makes the world eternal will also encounter another absurdity. Most men of sound mind among the Peripatetics admit that the soul is immortal, and further, that in reality or in act, things infinite in number ^C cannot exist. If, therefore, the world is established as eternal, will not souls be established as actually infinite? Seeing that infinite years have already passed, and an infinite number of men have died, whose souls—which are devoid of number—are actually surviving? But here, some, for the sake of avoiding this absurdity, with a certain mad impudence, have invented the idea that there is one single rational soul in all men. Does this figment not take away and extinguish all of God’s providence and justice? For in this way, men would not differ in number, of whom, precisely, there would be a single form, nor would any rewards remain for those who did well, nor any punishments for those who did evil, and Socrates would be the same as Plato, nor would the good man be better than the scoundrel, nor the wise man than the fool, and so on. Since this is ^D absurd, that which was affirmed—that there is one single soul of all men—must also necessarily be absurd. But I cease to accumulate so many more proofs by which it is demonstrated that the world is not eternal. I shall rather add one more and brief example, by which I may make it plain that the cognition of things natural is a precursor to the true light, by which, indeed, man is led to the contemplation of his Creator. I shall briefly explain those reasons which prove that this world is governed by God. And first, who does not see that diverse and contrary things cannot be joined together by themselves and reduced to some one form, unless they are connected through the work and assistance of someone else? We indeed see this world consist of parts so diverse and contrary, in which, notably, things cold are joined to hot, humid to dry, and others composed of different natures meet in one form. It is necessary, therefore, to confess that there is someone who coupled, unified, and joined such diverse things. Or if one were to look at a painting portrayed in diverse colors and consisting of various parts, would one doubt that there existed some master who fashioned it so skillfully? Or if one were to look at a cup embossed with various and intricate marks, would he not immediately exclaim that it is the work of the divine Alcimedon? It is late, perhaps, but it is agreed among all that diverse and contrary things would, by their own impulse, be dissolved and separated from one another, were there not someone by whom they are sustained. The same thing, therefore, would happen to the world, which, compacted into one form from diverse parts, the very diversity of their natures, being mutually discordant, would undoubtedly dissociate and tear apart, were there not one who holds together what He has bound. Could anything lacking a governor move of its own accord in a certain and regular order? This we see happening in the world, whose order proceeds so surely, whether it be the perpetual vicissitudes of days and nights, or the fourfold changes of the seasons suited to the maturation of crops and the temperament of bodies. What shall I say of the sun, the moon, and the other stars? Their movements are so certain that the sun traverses the circle divided into twelve parts once every year, at one time receding from us, and at another approaching us; the moon, by its wondrous waxings and wanings of light, marks and signifies the days as if in a calendar, returning to the same place within a monthly span; then, in the same orbit, the stars move so surely that they keep the same most constant courses with movements that are varied among themselves. Since we see these and other innumerable things observing so certain an order, and maintaining such ordered movements in their places, times, efficiencies, spaces, and qualities, can we doubt that there is one who, remaining Himself, governs and disposes these varieties of change? By these and other human, that is, physical arguments—which cannot all be enumerated in this place—one could prove that the world is governed by the providence of God, whence I think it sufficiently clear that the studies of wisdom, which we call philosophy, contribute not a little to piety and the cognition of divine things, and therefore should be worthily cultivated and embraced by a Christian man. Yet we shall not follow philosophy as a guide, but rather we shall use it as a handmaid, and we shall deem ourselves to have philosophized rightly only when we fortify with the aid and ministry of philosophy that which does not conflict with the sacred letters, which are the plumb line of truth. From which it truly follows that the Platonic genus of philosophy, for a Christian man...

^A is the first thing that ought to be pursued, because it teaches us most of all, among other things, about piety, and approaches as closely as possible that truth which we have drawn from the Sacred Scriptures. For is not that dispute of the Platonists concerning the ideas consonant with the Christian religion? Which pertains most of all to this point: that it shows God to be the creator of this world and the author of the certain order which is observed within it? I omit now the fact that many believe that the things said by Christians concerning the Son of God and the Word and the construction of the universe are almost the same things that the Platonists say. Do they not spread a pleasing reputation about God in their dispute concerning nature, where they show that it is the will of God? In their dispute concerning heaven, which they say is mortal in itself, but rendered immortal through the presence of a motive soul? In their dispute concerning a being that is univocal and not equivocal? But especially when they inculcate so frequently and so copiously that souls are immortal and divine—a thing which is the greatest foundation of our faith. Indeed, they did not snatch up all these things from Plato their preceptor and master, but drew them from him, because Plato does not merely teach, but initiates, and not just initiates, but imbues. Wherefore they call this man divine, this man most wise, this man most holy, this man the Homer of philosophers, following whom even Cicero, not only the parent of eloquence but also of wisdom, held him in such high regard that he says he is vanquished by his authority alone, even though Plato provides no formal argument. ^B However, here I cannot but commemorate the marvelous cycles of the arts and philosophy. For not even the arts themselves are always held in the same honor, but at times they flourish more, at others less, and now one kind of philosophy flourishes, now another. Therefore, in our own century, the Platonic genus of philosophizing has almost withered away, while the Aristotelian is taught in all schools; whence it happens that today teachers and a direct initiation into the philosophy of Plato are missing, which are, however, absolutely necessary for one wishing to approach that genus of philosophizing correctly and with profit. For most Platonic matters are so obscure, especially those which are wrapped up in numbers and figures, that they have given place to the proverb by which it is said: "To be obscure is to be Platonic." In the age of Cicero, however, the opposite happened, for there were certainly few at that time to whom the Peripatetic philosophy was known. Therefore all schools then read, studied, and translated Plato, while Aristotle was meanwhile neglected and spurned, or at least held a secondary place after Plato.

But enough of these things. I come to you, most reverend prince, to whom I shall briefly explain the reason for my undertaking. Since I, for the aforementioned reasons, am accustomed to admire the writings of Plato, I could not pass over the duty of translating into the Latin language the little book written in Greek by Georgios Gemistos concerning the comparison of Plato and Aristotle, so that I might make it familiar to myself, and at the same time benefit others to whom the Greek language might be less known by this translation. Nor do I think that I have wasted my effort in taking the little work of this author into my hands, nor do I think that others who are to read the same will be wasting their time. ^C For this Gemistos was a man most eminent in every kind of science, and he received the surname Plethon, as if of Plato, because he approached most closely to Plato, the prince of philosophers. Therefore, I wished to offer this translation to your Reverence, because I had known, both from other matters and especially from the letters recently given to your Reverence, that your Reverence is held by such a love of philosophy, especially Christian philosophy, such as is the Platonic, and that you pursue those who are studious of it with such great benefits, that you can truly be called its Maecenas. Furthermore, because I had heard that your Reverence is instructing a library in your college, most rich in every sort of writing of every language and discipline, with books collected from everywhere at great expense. Wherefore I could not but approach your Reverence again, adorned with this little gift, and I do not doubt that your Reverence will receive this writing of a most excellent philosopher and mathematician with the same spirit with which you are accustomed to embrace the Muses and all the best writers, and judge it to be an ornament to your library. If your Reverence receives this small gift—which I do not doubt you will—with the spirit that I expect, and embraces it with your favor, I shall certainly endeavor with all my might so that greater and more worthy things may come, under the auspices and benefit of your Reverence, into the hands of your Reverence and be inserted into your library. What remains, I pray God that He may long preserve your Reverence safe and sound, so that you may be able to promote the study of letters for the glory of the divine name and the salvation of other men. ^D

Basel, on the day of Saint Laurence, in the year 1574. Your Reverence's most devoted, GEORGIUS CHARIANDER.

GEORGII GEMISTI PLETHONIS DE PLATONICAE ET ARISTOTELICAE PHILOSOPHIAE DIFFERENTIA

^ABoth the ancients among us, both Greeks and Romans, preferred Plato to Aristotle by a wide margin. But most of those of the present time, especially those living toward the west—deeming themselves wiser than those former men—admire Aristotle more than Plato, persuaded by a certain Arab, Averroes, who attributes the greatest praise to Aristotle and dares to affirm that in his books he has embraced the wisdom of nature most perfectly. And truly Aristotle may have been great and incomparable regarding other matters, of which I would not easily venture to render a judgment; but concerning his own opinion regarding the soul, he was of such a perverse disposition that he did not fear to make it mortal and corruptible. ^B But could one who is a patron of such ignorance and madness be considered a suitable judge of any noble work or matter? And does he not rave in the same way as Aristotle, who defends this opinion? For I cannot help but confess the truth and rebuke him who has rebuked his elders and predecessors. However, it would not seem becoming for me to affect a slanderer with mutual revilings, but since in our own age there are many found who grant the palm to Plato, we shall attempt to gratify them with this undertaking of ours, and to correct others, unless they labor with a love of contention, by explaining in a few words the difference between the doctrine of each—of the Platonic, that is, and the Aristotelian—and by showing that the one differs not a little from the other, in which explanation we shall use not verbose and elaborate, but, as is fitting, the briefest demonstrations.

^C CHAPTER 1.

And first, Plato establishes the supreme God, the prince of all, as the creator of all that is intelligible and purely separate, and, through this nature, of the whole of this heaven. Aristotle, however, says that He is the creator of nothing at all, but only the mover of this heaven which we contemplate; and if he thinks that he is the creator...

were he to omit it, he would be poorly laying out his own philosophy, suppressing the greatest work of God, while celebrating only that which is far less. ^B But perhaps someone might say that he considers Him the end and the final cause. But not even this will appear to be a very solemn claim, nor worthy of God, since he does not propose Him as the end of the essence of each thing, but only as the end of its motion. If he does not even think that God is the creator of the All, and for that reason says so nowhere, then he would be far more inferior, neither stating nor even believing the most beautiful of philosophical doctrines—not just of philosophy, but of all men who think thoughts that are better.

We, indeed, will show that he does not even believe it. First, because it is not credible that a man who held this view would have suppressed so arduous and beautiful a dogma throughout all the books he wrote, in which he discourses so prolixly and curiously about fetuses, oysters, and other causes of natural things. Second, because he describes the number of the cause of generation, and names no time, but only the cause; moreover, he reproaches those who dissent from him, saying, “It is absurd, and rather one of those things that are in no way possible, to cause any origin to eternal things.” In this place Aristotle manifests himself—as perhaps others also do—to be of the opinion that when the cause of generation is established, time necessarily follows. This is not what Plato did, who in the *Phaedrus* posits the soul as unbegotten, clearly in terms of time, but begotten in the *Timaeus*, clearly in terms of cause; thus he is manifest as not altogether insisting that one who believes in generation by cause must also believe in it in terms of time. If, however, Aristotle thinks that this All is eternal, it is clear that he would not believe it has any generation; and if not generation, then he would not believe in any creator of it either. And enough concerning these things. ^C

CHAPTER II

Furthermore, Aristotle has taught that other thing about God absurdly and against all reason. For when he had decided that the other spheres were governed and moved by certain separate minds and substances, distributing one to each, he assigned one sphere to that highest principle of all things, God, which he thinks is moved by Him, thus assigning to Him in this way a certain part of the labor which other minds after Him also sustain. ^D How absurd this is, one may perceive from this: it is necessary that the things which are distributed have a certain proportion to those to whom they are distributed, if the distribution is to be judged as it should be, just as Aristotle himself also advises in his book on justice. But among him, all the spheres of heaven possess the same substance in relationship to one another. For all are bodies not subject to corruption, according to the opinion of Aristotle, and both they and their motions are eternal. Hence, therefore, it follows necessarily that those separate minds among which those spheres are...

^A distributed all possess the same substance among themselves, and that no one of them is unequal to another, but is only that much more excellent—the one which is senior—insofar as the orbit assigned to it surpasses the remaining orbits. Now, that this excellence is not worthy of God, the supreme Creator, is known to everyone, since even Avicenna, although an Arab and estranged from the true religion, nevertheless perceived the absurdity of this opinion; and while he followed Aristotle in a certain way regarding the motion and governance of the stars and the celestial orbits—attributing them to certain separate minds—he did not assign any star or any orbit to God, the supreme guardian of all things, but, separating Him as one from the number of all things, he attributed supreme excellence to Him over all things. But regarding these matters, enough has been said.

CHAPTER III

I pass on now to that equivocation of being ^B which Aristotle is thought to have discovered as something great, and which never came into the mind of any philosopher before him. But if he thinks that entities are equivocal among themselves because some participate in being more and others less, he does not reason correctly (for if the whiteness in wool is less than the whiteness in snow, it does not follow that the whiteness in wool is equivocal to that which is in snow), ^C nor does he reason correctly if he thinks so because some of the things that exist are prior and others posterior, and the former necessarily entail the latter, while the latter do not entail the former. For let us take as an example numbers, among which, even if some are prior and others posterior, they are nevertheless not equivocal among themselves, but all are numbers according to the same definition. So too with the elements, which are the most ancient bodies from which all other bodies consist: though they are prior to the things composed from them, both they and the things that consist from them are, by the same account, and are called, substances, not by an equivocal predication. No one until this present time has thought otherwise. ^D Nor, if something else is predicated about being, such as "one," will being be denied to be the genus of all things, or be declared something equivocal. For "visible" is predicated of man, yet man does not for that reason lose his definition of the universal—or, if not genus, at least species of particulars or individuals—and he is by no means called equivocal. If this happens in the case of a species, the same thing would certainly happen in the case of a genus. For both have the same ratio: as the species is related to the things that are contained under it, so also is the genus; except for the fact that those species which are the lowest are predicated of an infinite number of things and are much more numerous, whereas genera are predicated of finite things that are capable of division. But come, let us examine the same thing in some genus, if anyone doubts it, and let us take as a word of example that which is called "animal." If, therefore, anyone were to define animal not as "perceptible," but as "capable of images," distinguishing it from the genus of those things which are said to have a certain third nature—neither animal nor plant—and then were to attribute to it that which is proper to every animal, namely, to call it "walking" (for he would not be doing it badly), then in this way animal would be predicated of the walking thing, and the walking thing would be predicated of the animal, and animal would nonetheless be the genus of the things under it and in no way equivocal.

If the same thing happens to the highest genus ^A that happens to the genera under it, there is nothing to prevent there being something peculiar to the former that does not belong to the other genera. Furthermore, what he says is false. For if he himself fashions "rationality"—so that "the rational" is not the difference of the animal, but "rationality" is—we will fashion "animality" for him, and then we will compel him to give us the difference of "animality." What, then, will he offer? For surely he will not offer "the rational" as the difference of "animality," nor "rationality" as the difference of "animal." And who could endure him for violating in such ways the laws and methods of discourse? But it is clear that "the rational" is the difference of "animal," while "rationality," if it is a difference at all, could not be the difference of anything other than "animality." And every genus will be predicated of its own difference, just as the law and reason of discourse teach. So far, therefore, we have demonstrated how feeble and of no moment are the arguments of Aristotle attempting to introduce the equivocation of "being."

Now, however, we will demonstrate that it is also impossible for "being" to be equivocal. For if all things exist from one—and from that which is most supremely one—even if they are many and innumerable, it is certainly possible that they possess some one thing in common with each other. And what else, pray, would that be but "being," and this itself not equivocal? For if it were equivocal, it would no longer be one. ^B Indeed, Aristotle himself also asserts in a certain place that beings do not wish to be governed poorly, and that "a multitude of rulers is not good; let there be one ruler, and one king," [hhom. Il. 2.204/h] praising this very piously and wisely in words, but in reality introducing very much a bad government into beings, in that he divides "being" into many, and does not allow it to remain one. From these things we have said, we shall form the following division:

ens ^C ὄν substantia οὐσία corporea σῶμα animata ἔμψυχον animal ζῶον rationale λογικόν homo ἄνθρωπος Socrates Σωκράτης

accidens συμβεβηκός incorporea ἀσώματος inanimata ἄψυχον planta φυτόν irrationale ἄλογον angelus ἄγγελος Plato Πλάτων.

CHAPTER IV

Furthermore, Aristotle falls into the same accusation of ignorance for this reason: that he makes the universal simply less than the particular, while he calls singular and individual essences "primary and principal" substances, but the species and genera of them "secondary" substances, and lesser and inferior to the primary ones. But if substance, as Aristotle himself also confesses, deserves to be called "being" most of all, because the part is less than the whole, it must also be established as less and inferior in the definition of substance. And if he were saying something like this about the universal taken as a universal, it might make sense, for there exists also a way of taking the universal as not universal, not everything but...

something. But he does not seem to be making his argument about the universal in this sense, but about the universal simply, and the genera and species simply, perhaps carried away by that very notion. For there, a man is sometimes better than a specific animal, and Socrates is better than a specific man. But when the universal is taken as a universal, it is not possible to say such a thing. For if "every man" differs in nothing from "all men," and "all men" differ from all the specific men in no other way than that the former are taken together and the latter separately, what reason could there be for the specific men to be "more principal substances" than the whole of humanity, and more truly to exist, unless it is by the fact that some are taken separately and others together? According to Aristotle himself, this might perhaps be reasonable, because he likes to fight with that which is one, and delights much in the division and multiplication of being. But truly, this cannot be pleasing to us, when we reflect that God did not create and fashion the individual men for the sake of some one man, but created the individual men for the sake of the universal nature of man, and that the nature of man itself existed for the sake of the universal rational nature, and altogether that the part is made for the sake of the whole, not the whole for the sake of the part. Moreover, we know that the science of the universal is far more excellent than the science of the part, a point which Aristotle himself, in his books *On Demonstration*, concedes, as if forgetting himself. This could neither be proven nor defended unless the whole, or universal, participated in being more than the part, and therefore was more excellent. But Aristotle is not consistent with himself, having followed a different opinion in this place than in others. As for us, we shall never be led to call the universals smaller than the singulars, so long as we see that the whole is greater than its part, and not the part greater than its whole.

CHAP. V.

Similar to this is that other claim of his, to say that the universal has the nature of matter, but the particular has the nature of form. For the exact opposite would be true, if indeed the universal is anything at all, while that which is in the part is a part; and the species itself exists entirely in the whole rather than in the parts. And the universal is also more and more truly in act than that which is viewed in the part. For if the universal is taken as a universal with respect to the things themselves, it is itself in act, and contains in act all those things which are viewed in the part; while the universal does not contain the universal in itself, but only so much of it as pertains to it. And indeed the universal is something perfect, while that which is considered in the part is imperfect.

CHAP. VI.

And furthermore, that other thing said by him would not be stated correctly, that the sensible is able to be prior and more ancient in time than the sense itself, by which opin-

opinion it is destroyed—an opinion that is perfectly correct and gives rise to no doubt—namely, that things which are said in relation to something, and which have a mutual inherence, must exist simultaneously. For if he says this as if there were to be no sense at any future time, then by what, I ask, principle could any sensible thing be said to be one that relates to that sense, which neither exists now, nor is ever judged to be going to exist in the future? But if he says it as if there were to be a sense at some time, it is clear that it is from that which is potentially able to be, that it is expected to be. Therefore, the sensible itself will be potentially sensible and related to a potential sense, and the potential sense will be related to the potential sensible. Neither is prior to the other in act, until such time as both exist in act. And in this way, there could never happen to be any sensible object prior to sense.

CAP. VII. Another notion is also destroyed by the same man, which otherwise everyone rightly embraces, and it is this: that a contradiction can never be found true at the same time. He, however, contends on the contrary that an indefinite contradiction can be discovered to be true at the same time, which, however, manifestly abhors reason. For an indefinite negation cannot ever denote a negation determined to a part, but one always related to the universal; whereas a contrary assertion is always understood of a part. And the common manner of speaking among all people demonstrates the same thing. ^B

CAP. VIII. There is, furthermore, another axiom which is as follows: That the conclusion must always imitate that of the premises which is called the minor—but the minor is that which concerns the part relative to the universal, the negative relative to the affirmative, and moreover, the necessary minor relative to the simple, and the contingent relative to the simple. Aristotle himself, however, says that from two premises—one necessary and the other simple—a necessary conclusion is produced. And yet, if that middle term is what connects the first term to the extreme, it could not possibly connect it to it in any other way than the method by which the first is conjoined to the extreme. Therefore, if that middle term indeed has a necessary relation to the other, it will also have the same relation here to the extreme, and consequently a necessary conclusion alone will be drawn from them. If, however, the same middle term is not necessarily conjoined with either of the terms, then not even the first ^C term will be able to be conjoined with the extreme necessarily. And such are the pronouncements of Aristotle of this kind.

CAP. IX. I come now to those things which he taught in his books *De anima*, not correctly. For the Platonists make that supernatural One simply one, so much so that they do not distinguish its subsistence, its power, and its act from one another. But in other things which are after it and beneath it, that is, in forms and minds, they judge that those three are not one in the same way, but they do not distinguish the power from the act, though they do distinguish the act of these from their subsistence; because, being immovable, they possess nothing in potentiality, but always have all the things that belong to them present in reality and in act. But in the soul, they already distinguish both essence and power and act, because it is moved from thought to thought, and the human soul even moves from

being intelligent to non-intelligent, or from non-intelligent to intelligent, and therefore it does not always possess the knowledge of things in act, but rather in power. Moreover, Aristotle declares the soul to be immovable; if he says this regarding local motion, he is right, but if he means every kind of motion (for he does not clarify this matter very well), he is no longer right. For how can it be, if it is seen changing from one thought to another each time, or even from thinking to not thinking, and the reverse? A point which even Aristotle himself concedes regarding the human mind. But let these things be passed over; let us return to the earlier argument. For the followers of Plato make these distinctions, while Aristotle, making no distinction at all, says that the whole mind in its essence is act. How then, for him, will the human mind have its essence the same as its act, since it does not always think nor is it always acting? Will it not also lose its essence along with its act? And will it not perish, only to come back to life when it thinks again? But in this point, it is clear that Aristotle has spoken with too little consideration. ^A

CHAPTER X.

How, moreover, is that not poorly said and inconsistent with himself? For he concedes, as can be gathered from his books on the generation of animals, that the human mind is older in time than this body, yet afterward he attacks those who ^B say that learnings are remembrances, and that to learn is nothing other than to remember. For if the mind was older than this body, why did it not know and understand? And by what was it hindered? If it did know and understand, how is it that, upon its descent into this body, it forgets, and then, recovering again what it once knew, it is not said to remember? ^C

CHAPTER XI.

Neither is that point of his above reproach. For although he posits the human mind to be incorruptible and eternal, as can be gathered both from his books on the soul and from his Metaphysics, yet afterward, in his ethical treatises, he nowhere appears to use this argument—an argument which would have contributed the greatest weight to ethical treatment and to discourse concerning virtue. But what is by far worse than this is that he does not deem there to be any good for man after the end of this life. So harmoniously does Aristotle know how to speak with himself. ^D For if anything of man remains immortal, it is clear that this would be, most of all and most properly, the man himself. How then, for him, when that man departs from this life, will there no longer be any good? On the contrary, it would then happen for him, having been released from this mortal state, that he would fare much more happily. Because of these things, Alexander of Aphrodisias, having these starting points and dragging the argument toward his own depravity, [maintains that man is] mortal...

And so much for these matters.

CHAPTER XII

I wish also to discuss briefly his treatment of the virtues and to show how much, even in these arguments, he falls short of the truth. He claims that the virtues are means, and the vices are extremes, speaking of them as means of the passions within the soul, and conversely, as extremes of them. But he does not clarify in what sense he considers it a mean of virtue (for a mean can exist in many ways), whether in quality or in quantity—though, from one short passage of his, one can grasp where he considers not fearing lightning and earthquakes to be in the realm of vice ^B. For it appears from this that he does not distinguish the fearful and the brave by quality, but by magnitude and smallness, that is, by quantity. But not so the followers of Plato, nor others who examine the matter more accurately; rather, they hold that all baseness is something to be feared, whether it be great or small, whereas everything that is not base is not to be feared; and thus they measure what is to be feared and what is not by quality, not by quantity. Why, then, are earthquakes and lightning worthy of fear, if they are devoid of vice and do not make a man worse? And in general, how is it not foolish to fear lightning, not only because it is not base to be struck by lightning and in this way to depart from this mortal life (for this does not lie in our power, so that it could be attributed to us as either praise or blame), but also because this very thing is among those occurrences that happen most rarely, and it is the height of folly to expect and be terrified by things of such a kind, ^C when the one who fears is no more liberated than the one who does not fear? Now, one who fears a storm and winter can prepare himself against them in some way, and one who fears a beast perhaps has the faculty to defend himself. But one whom the lightning terrifies is afflicted in a way that he should not be afflicted at all. Furthermore, I cannot pass over this in silence: since nothing prevents a good and wise man from being agitated by contrary affections of the soul—trusting at one moment and fearing at another, desiring at one moment and despising at the next—while measuring all these things by what is base and what is not base, and by what is good and what is not good, it will follow from this that even he who does all these contrary things, and is most vicious, nonetheless remains in a certain mean, even while ^D Aristotle places all vice solely in the extremes. But someone who desires all things, both those he should and those he should not—he would not be vicious simply because he desires those things which he should, nor yet would he who despises all things, when he should despise some and not others. Thus, each of these would be in some way completely vicious; but the completely vicious man would also be most contrary to the good and noble man—that man, namely, who despises what he should desire and desires what he should despise. Thus, as one who employs both contrary affections, he would be both one and the other, and would also be in a certain mean, and at the same time most contrary to the good and noble man. So much, then, for this matter.

CHAPTER XIII.

And of these matters, pertaining to the discussion of Aristotle on morals, let this suffice for now, even though there are truly many things which merit reproach. For it is not the aim of our institute to commemorate everything in which Aristotle has erred, but only the principal and greatest matters, especially those in which he leaves Plato behind by not a small, but a long interval, and dissents from him greatly.

Chapter XIV.

^A Let us now say something also concerning the heavens and the fifth body which Aristotle was the first to invent. ^B That there are four primary and most ancient bodies in this visible heaven or world, all the philosophers before him, as well as the Platonists, affirm with one voice: fire, air, water, and earth. And of these, fire and earth are most contrary to each other, in that fire is lighter due to its rarity and obtains the highest place, while earth is the heaviest due to its density, being subject to all other elements. Air and water hold a middle place between both, having a middle proportion to each due to their rarity and density. In the same way, as far as motion is concerned, they are distinguished from one another by motion and rest; fire and earth are again most contrary to each other, while air and water hold the middle place to both. If, therefore, earth is immovable, it will be necessary for fire to be moved perpetually; and further, if earth is indeed immovable, then water will move, but less than air, which will move that much more than water, as much as it is surpassed in motion by the supreme fire, which for this reason must be admitted to be in perpetual motion. And if it is moved perpetually, it will certainly have a circular motion. For that which is moved in a straight line cannot possess a mobile nature. For that which has a straight motion comes to rest at some time or other. Therefore, the aether and every supreme body, and that which is properly named the heavens, ^C will have such a nature as we have just described.

Let us now see on what arguments Aristotle relied to invent that new fifth body against us. "We see," he says, "that fire has a straight motion, but the heavens a circular one. Wherefore fire will obtain a nature different from the heavens." But I respond: we see that it is sometimes moved by a straight motion, and that this same thing happens when it consists in an alien place. As soon, therefore, as it arrives at where it belongs, then it rests and is no longer moved, as if its nature were rather constituted for this. What wonder is it, then, if we see fire also, when it is in an alien place, being carried in a straight line, by the same motion that is common to all these bodies that, if they consist in an alien place, are carried in a straight line, in order that it might be able to arrive as quickly as possible to its own place, which nature has destined for it—and after it is already situated in it, to be moved in a circle, as if it were better adapted to this? Why therefore did he invent that fifth body, of which, if any particle should perchance consist in an alien place, what motion will it have? ^D Whether would it, remaining as it is, spin in a circle, or would it be carried in a straight line and arrive at its own place? But he says that, since all four of these bodies are destroyed in their parts, and not one of them is entirely incorruptible, there must be a body that is entirely incorruptible, and that this is the heavens. These things the followers of Plato no longer concede to Aristotle. For if, as they say, there is no body that is corruptible by itself, how then will they say it is possible for there to be an incorruptible

body, that is, one that by its own nature is divisible and consists of parts and can be dissolved? Yet those bodies which they themselves consider to be immortal, they do not hold to be so by their own nature, but contend that they are rendered immortal by the presence of the soul. Indeed, those who stand with Plato are of this opinion. But Aristotle would have acted more correctly, he who himself also established such bodies to be ensouled, if he had assigned this excellence to the soul, and not to the body, and had not fashioned the body itself as immortal in a new way by itself and its own power. ^B

CAP. XV.

CAP. XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

^A does it appear as something not deliberating, like an instrument or a servant? For the art is not in the instrument, but in the architect. Nor, indeed, if something irrational appears in nature, do we place the nature that performs the work in that irrational thing. For nature is the law and ordinance of God. And the law of God is not irrational.

It seems to me that Aristotle, among those who came before him, especially in his discourses, emulated Anaxagoras. For he, too, set Mind over the universe at the beginning of his discourse, but as he proceeded with his arguments, he did not appear to make much use of it, but rather deviated toward impiety. And Aristotle likewise sets certain gods over this heaven, yet in the majority of his discourses he does not appear to make much use of the Divine, ^B but rather deviates toward impiety, as far as he is able. But not so Plato, neither in other discourses, nor in this very one with which we are now dealing. For he distinguishes two arts, calling the one divine and the other human, and both use mind and counsel; and to the human art he assigns everything fashioned, but to the divine, all things that come into being according to nature. Pindar also seemed to speak most excellently when he called God the most supreme craftsman.

CHAPTER XVIII

I shall now pass to that point which is most poorly stated of all in his *Metaphysics*. For since there was the question, whether all things come to pass by necessity, or if there are some things among those that occur which do not occur by necessity. And those who maintained that all things occur by necessity endeavored to demonstrate this same thing by two arguments, among which the first is this: that everything that comes into being must necessarily come into being from some cause; and the second is this: that every cause that makes anything, makes that same thing both necessarily and by a certain and finite reasoning. Now Aristotle, seeing that if these two things were conceded, it would follow infallibly ^C that all things that come to pass in the nature of things proceed from a certain necessity—in order not to concede this very thing, he assumes the other member of the contradiction, as if it were sufficiently firm, and concedes that some of the things that come to pass occur by necessity, and thus he proceeds toward the other axiom, and that one, namely, that every cause makes whatever it makes both necessarily and certainly, he does not remove. For he had already abused this proposition before in his discourse concerning eternal motion, which he would indeed have most manifestly subverted if he had denied it in this place. He deflects, therefore, to the other, and affirms that some of the things that come into being occur without a cause, removing in this way a notion which no one, either wise or common, has ever regarded as an uncertain ambiguity, except, as it appears, Aristotle. And yet ^D Aristotle himself posits that everything that is moved is moved by something else. But I thought that this very axiom was stronger for that, than by its own self. For since everything that is moved comes to be in the manner in which it is moved (for every one of the movements in those things which are being moved is of a coming-to-be of a...

movement), and ^A everything that is moved would also be moved by some cause. But he, while destroying that [notion], still thinks it will remain firm for him. And he does not perceive that the opinion concerning the Divine, when this axiom is destroyed, also becomes weaker and more feeble. For it is plain that it is through this axiom that men obtain their initial and most ready-to-hand opinion of the Divine. For since it appears that some of the things coming-to-be in this world do not have manifest causes, men, assuming that everything coming-to-be must come to be from some cause, are led to the opinion of the Divine. But Aristotle should have demonstrated what that thing truly is which comes to be without a cause, and not simply made such a statement. But someone will perhaps say: "deliberation," and so also does Aristotle himself assert in his books *On Interpretation*. For he says that the principle of future things exists both from deliberation and from the action itself. But in this he is clearly mistaken; ^B for deliberation is not the principle of future things, although it is sometimes a cause. But of the thing regarding which men deliberate, deliberation is by no means the principle, since other causes, prior and more ancient, appear for it, namely, the circumstances that surround us. For it is surely clear that if such circumstances surrounding us did not exist—such as would present to us the opinion that we ought to deliberate—we would never deliberate. But let us pass this by, and leave this dogma to Aristotle himself.

Now, however, with this axiom removed—that all things have some cause—we shall show that Aristotle is nonetheless contradicting himself. He considers that nothing emerges from potentiality into actuality unless some prior act precedes it, which urges and promotes that latent and hidden force, or potentiality, into an effect or act. By utilizing this very axiom in his discussion of eternal motion, and that other one—that every cause must necessarily produce what it acts upon—he attempts to demonstrate the eternity of motion. Therefore, if anything comes to be out of the things that are coming-to-be, it will necessarily have to be produced into the light from potentiality, into which state, moreover, it will never be produced unless some other prior act exists which effects such a change; which, in any case, must also be established as the author and cause of the generation of any thing. And in this way, nothing will ever be found that can be said to come to be without a cause. By these demonstrations, it is most evidently apparent that Aristotle, in that work which is accustomed to be titled regarding the things that follow upon physical matters, among many other errors he has amassed, has fallen most disgracefully in this matter. ^C

Chapter XIX

^A assigning the appropriate activity to each: the active motion to the motive power, and the passive motion to the movable power—he fears that this active motion, being what it is, might at some time not be moved. And he fears it as if he ought to fear! For what is there to prevent this active motion, which is itself moving, from not being moved, given that the mover is sometimes unmoved? For as for the passive motion, that is not possible. But for the active, what will be the obstacle? In these matters, we declare Aristotle to be ignorant—not in all things, but having selected the greatest and most crucial points in which he differs from Plato and those who follow Plato.

CHAPTER XX. The discrepancy between Aristotle and Plato regarding eternal forms and species.

^B It remains for us to discuss the argument concerning the species, a subject concerning which the greatest contention is wont to arise. In these matters, we shall not indeed agree with Plato, but we shall demonstrate that Aristotle, in this part as well, has contradicted him poorly, and that in some things he acts as a caviler, while in others he fails to accomplish what he intended. And this ought not be held as a fault against us, since even in the previous points there are instances where, while not agreeing with Plato, we have nonetheless shown Aristotle himself to be at variance with himself.

And first, that statement of his is not free from reproach, as it manifestly contradicts the truth: that after Socrates, he says, those who introduced the discourse regarding species into the schools of the philosophers were the first—meaning, of course, Plato. ^C But it is certain that the Pythagoreans, who lived before Plato, also discussed this matter, as is apparent from that work of Plato’s which he calls the *Timaeus Locrus*. For there, he derives this heaven from an intelligible example, making it an image of another world, which he calls the *idanicum* [ideal]. And this is indeed of this sort.

But in what way does he not commit an injustice in this? While the Platonists wish for those species of theirs to be not synonymous, but equivocal, to things subject to the senses, he himself, against their opinion and intent, attempts to show them to be synonymous, and in this way: for he says that it is not for the reason that those are eternal and these are subject to corruption that they are not both synonymous; since even the whiteness of a long time ^D is nonetheless synonymous and univocal with the whiteness of a single day.

Rightly, then, Aristotle: if the whiteness of a long duration were the same as the whiteness of a single day—which, though it has existence in some manner, is nevertheless limited and therefore suitable for comparison with the other—it would be synonymous; but you make the mortal synonymous with the immortal, to which it can in no way be compared! And with what face, I ask, do you weave such a conclusion? And from where did you learn to compare the comparable with the incomparable, and make them similar, so that you might subsequently think that what happens to comparable things should likewise happen to incomparable ones? Truly, if anyone had not heard those laws of yours, which you yourself [wrote] in the analytics regarding the reasoning of...

negations. ^A And regarding the reasoning of something that has perished, [he would be quite confused] concerning corruptible things. These things have been stated somewhat obscurely by Aristotle. It is necessary for us to first set forth the arguments of those who posit Forms, and in this way to make Aristotle’s meaning clear. Those who posit Forms say that when the soul attains to knowledge, it takes up the accounts [logoi] of things subject to sense, having them more accurately and with more perfect power within itself than they have in the sensible things. Therefore, the soul would not obtain this more perfect and accurate [account] from sensible things, [a thing] which does not exist in them. Nor, again, could it ever be thought of by the soul from nowhere else. For the soul is not naturally disposed to think of anything that is in no way [in existence]; for even false opinions are not of things that are not [at all], but are certain combinations of things that do exist, though they are not arranged in the correct way relative to one another. ^B It must be left, then, that this more perfect [element] of the accounts in sensible things is derived by the soul from another nature that is still much better and more perfect. Regarding these points, Aristotle says: "If, according to the accounts of the sciences—as being more perfect than those in sensible things—there must be Forms, there will then be Forms of everything of which there are sciences. And according to the thinking of something about something corruptible, if it is not possible for the soul to think of something that does not exist, there will also be a specific Form of each of the corruptible things." The remainder of Aristotle’s argument, that concerning the "one over many" and negations, signifies this: Those who posit the Forms say it is impossible that, when many things possess something one and the same, this same thing should be theirs by chance. For it would not be possible for some things to be arranged in the same way, either always or for the most part, by chance. There must, therefore, be one thing that is the same for each of them by its own nature and not by accident. There must be one transcendent thing standing over them, which will provide for the many that which is according to it. ^C Against this, Aristotle says, "[And according to] the 'one over many,' and the negations." That is, if for men there is an 'oneness' that is humanity, there must be something else, transcendent, which provides this humanity to them, and it would also be necessary for there to be something in those that are not men, providing them with 'non-humanity.' For indeed, there would also be something in these, and the 'non-humanity' would belong to many, just as humanity does to men. These, then, are Aristotle’s arguments; but it is necessary for us, having first set forth what the Forms are and how those who posit them believe them to be, thus to respond to Aristotle’s points. For in this way he would be most clearly refuted—partly slandering [the doctrine], and partly accomplishing nothing. Those who posit the Forms do not believe the supremely good God to be the direct creator of this heaven, but [they propose] another nature appearing before it, which is more akin to Him and eternal, forever existing in the same way according to itself, and that He created this heaven through that essence, and not directly by Himself. ^D They organize that essence into one intelligible world, which the Locrian Timaeus calls "Ideal," that is to say, "Formal." And because they compose it of all of the Forms—and of all kinds of them—and because they set over this one whole intelligible world the most perfect Intellect, they assign the second rank regarding the

^A governance of the universe, after the good God Himself, to this Intellect, which they use as a paradigm for the intelligible world that exists in itself, and [from which] they create this heaven and the sensible world. They maintain that this sensible world is an image of the intelligible one, in both its whole and its parts, in that nothing exists which does not derive from there, as if needing a cause. For all things that exist and all that come to be require a cause. However, privations and failures, and whatever falls away toward what is not already, do not require a cause; rather, it is from the departure of a cause that such things result. Nor, indeed, do negations—for it is from the cause of the positive assertions that are their opposites that these too result as negations. Nor, moreover, is there any cause there for what occurs here by accident; for such things occur here through a concourse of multiple causes, which the intellect there can have reference to, and it is not the case that there is one single cause there for such things. Neither is there there a single cause for each of the infinite things [here], but rather one single cause-Form exists there for all things here that fall into infinity. For in no way is it the case that the infinity of quantity exists for those things there; but while for the transcendent God there is no plurality at all—for He is entirely and strictly one—in this intelligible cosmos there is a plurality, yet it is a bounded one, and in no way infinite, neither in potentiality nor in act. But for this sensible world, infinity has already occurred, as far as is possible, through matter, in which infinity is present primarily—and although it derives this from there, it is not, however, infinite there as well. For it is not that there is an irrational Form there for the irrational things here, nor a moving Form for those that move. But for the essences here, and for those things that pertain to them in themselves and their relations, the Forms and paradigms exist there; for the relations, because even those things there are not without relation to one another—hence the relations here must be images of the relations there—and for the properties, because not even those things there are without properties. For of the transcendent One, since it is strictly one, neither essence, nor property, nor activity, nor potentiality can be distinguished. But since these Forms and intellects are not equal to that [One], their properties are indeed distinguished from their essence, though not yet [by] the potentiality of an activity; rather, this distinction is attributed to them only in their relation to each other, as they are here. So that those things there hold a middle ground, in a way, between the transcendent One ^B and the things here, [including] the sensible things. What the Forms are and how they are, according to those who deem them to exist, we have stated as briefly as possible and in summary. We must now, therefore, respond to the arguments of Aristotle. For according to the principles of the sciences, there will be Forms of all things for which there are sciences, if indeed sciences always exist of things as they are in themselves. And if, again, there are [sciences] of properties [that exist] in themselves, those who posit the Forms will not hesitate to say that there are Forms for all these things—not, however, in the same way for all. But for those things here that are distinguished into bounded Forms, there is one Form for each; for those that have already fallen into infinity, there is one [Form] over all the infinite things themselves. For immediately, for all things here that are distinguished by number, they posit that the one Form there is unified and [covers] all things in accordance with one. ^{C D}

which contain those things that are distinguished here by number and at the same time those which occur by themselves. And in the case of those things which occur in magnitudes, in the same way, there is the form of magnitude there, and it is indivisible. ^A From which the soul, being illuminated, receives in sequence the mathematical number and mathematical magnitudes, as well as the shadows and images of the intelligible things, just as, here, there are images and shadows in water of the things perceived by the senses in relation to the things perceived by the senses. And furthermore, they say that these things crafted by men are contained in the form of man there, each according to one. Hence, the demiurges, though taking up those things that are in the mind and, having previously fashioned in themselves the forms of the objects, ^B thus set out to work on the things perceived by the senses. But regarding those things that happen by accident, if ever a science of these should arise, since such things result from a combination of many causes, each of which is referred back there, the soul, thus illuminated, also obtains knowledge about these from there. These, then, are the things they will say in response to the arguments concerning the sciences. But they will say that regarding the argument of the "one over many" and of negations, there is no necessary conclusion to be drawn. For that form of man there, to whatever it may apply itself, is certainly the cause of being man to those things, but to those things to which it does not apply itself, these things are not left for men. ^C But regarding the understanding of something once it has perished among perishable things, they say it is sufficient that that one form there, which is over all things that are perishable in the same kind—just as if it were not previously existing but bringing each one forth—should also renovate an image of each that has perished in the souls of those who still contemplate something concerning it. These, then, are what those who posit forms will say in response to these things, not saying anything inconsistent with their own hypotheses. But let us proceed also to the next points, for whatever is worthy of some discussion. ^D "If it happens that the dyad is not primary, but rather the number. And what," they say, "will prevent the number there, both unified and being prior to the dyad itself, from existing? And the dyad being the first in sequence of the number here?" He says further, "If forms are not participated in by accident, they would be of substances only." But if they were not all, they might say, either substances or happened to substances by accident, you would perhaps have some room [for your argument], as you say. But now, since there are some things, and they are present to substances by themselves, what can your argument still avail you? Although, even if each of those things which come to be by accident is indeed by itself in relation to immediate things, it is nevertheless not entirely cut off in absolute terms from those things which are by themselves, since such things come to be through a combination of many causes. Each of these does whatever it may do by itself, nor would it be entirely cut off from the thing that is by itself in its results, nor are things that come to be by accident entirely without communion with those that are by themselves, but these things also partake of those. For when, during the Olympic Games, the sun suffers an eclipse, the sun did not suffer an eclipse in accordance with the Olympic Games occurring, nor did the Olympic Games occur in accordance with the sun suffering an eclipse; so that in this way, the sun did not eclipse by itself regarding the Olympic Games being present, yet the causes for the sun to eclipse by themselves the...

Olympian games were legislated. And indeed, concerning the fact that the Olympic Games and the eclipse of the sun have happened to coincide, the commensurate relation of the respective periods of each one has served as the cause, and for this, in turn, another [cause] for another—each of which, by itself, might produce [this] directly. So that they might say: "Aristotle, you are forcing all things to be either substances, or things that come to be in them incidentally, and you are breaking away these things that are incidental from those that are in themselves." He says further, "If the form of the Ideas and of participating things is one and the same, there will be something common. But if it is not the same form, they would be homonymous, and there would no longer be any communion between them." But they will say, "There is no need for one common form of both as a pattern and image; nor, if they are homonymous—as indeed they are—would there no longer be any communion between them, unless, O Aristotle, you claim that things that exist are homonymous and [therefore] you would claim that they have no communion with one another?" Since he has said no such thing anywhere, you would never say that, but now you pretend out of envy towards us to be ignorant of the fact that of homonymous things, some do not commune with one another, while some do in a way. And the statue of Lysander is not uncommunicative with Lysander, nor is each image with its own pattern.

Further, he says, "What do the Forms contribute, either to the eternal sensible things, or to those that come to be and perish? For they are not the causes of any motion or change for them." Here Aristotle has made it clear for what purpose he fights against the Forms. For because he neither thinks nor is willing for there to be any cause for the eternal things to exist and subsist, except for the fact that they are moved, he fights against the ^B Forms. Or what does he mean by, "What do the Forms contribute either to the eternal sensible things, or to those that come to be and perish? For they are not the causes of any motion or change for them"? Is it not clear that since he himself thinks that for those things that come to be and perish, the things of the same species and the sun are sufficient to provide the causes, but that he does not think the eternal things of the sensible world move because of the Forms, and he does not think they have any need of a cause for their essence and their being, therefore he says, "What do the Forms contribute to them?" But one might say that to the most ancient God alone would one attribute such a cause. But for "Aristotle" to say this, he would not be able. Why? Because he would be refuted by himself if he said this. For I ask, of those things attributed to him, why did he not assign all the motions in the heavens to the same God, but rather set some other thing in charge of another motion? Or is it clear that it is because of that axiom, even if he were to set the producers in charge of the eternal substances, if he thought there was any cause for them at all? Or [is it] if he thought they produced images of themselves? For they would certainly not be entirely unlike their own patterns. And thus, by the argument of the Forms, he would himself at least concede them here. But now it is clear ^D that he does not think that there is any cause worthy to be attributed to the most ancient God alone, as he deems it fitting. But one would be allowed to say this to another, but it is not possible to say it to Aristotle. Why? Because he would be refuted by himself if he said this.

^A And so, the binary also, let it be the first of this number of ours, which can be extended? He further says, if species are not participated in by accident, they will be the species of essences only. So indeed they will answer, if all things were either essences or adhered to essences by accident; then, indeed, the argument you bring forward might have some place. But now, since there exist among things some that inhere in essences even through themselves, of what importance will your argument be? For although each of those things that come to pass by accident does not exist through itself in those things by which it is immediately contained, yet it is not absolutely different from those things that exist through themselves, since all things of this kind happen through the concurrence of several causes, each of which does through itself whatever it does; nor do such things as proceed from such causes differ altogether from that which is per se, nor, again, if any things happen by accident, do they have absolutely no community with those things that exist through themselves, but the former are contained by the latter themselves, and are joined to each other by a certain affinity. ^B For if, while the Olympic games were at hand, the sun suffered an eclipse, the sun did not suffer an eclipse because the games were at hand, nor, likewise, did the time of the Olympics arrive because the sun had suffered an eclipse—for in this way the sun did not eclipse through itself at the very time the Olympics were present. But yet those causes on account of which the sun suffers an eclipse had caused the eclipse through themselves, and the law or old institution regarding the celebration of the Olympics ordained such games through itself. But that the Olympic games and the eclipse of the sun occurred at one and the same time, the cause of that fact was the equality or commensuration of the circuits and returns of both things between themselves, and of this equality again there was another cause, or others, of which each one, for its part, produced that which pertained to it. From this, therefore, it appears, O Aristotle, that you are making a forced conclusion when you affirm that all things either produce essences, or are attributed to essences by accident, and that you cut off those things which are by accident from those which are through themselves. Furthermore you ask, if the species of the ideas and of the things in which those are participated is the same, there will certainly be some community between them. But if the species is not the same, they will certainly be equivocal, and will no longer have any community between themselves. ^C But let it be singular and let it exist prior to the binary itself. But the Platonists will answer that they do not stand in need of another common species for an exemplar or image, nor, if they are equivocal, as they truly are, does it follow that there is no community between them; or they will surely ask why, O Aristotle, you judge entities to be equivocal, and yet do not perceive them to be joined by any communication among themselves? Nor will you perhaps say that you have nowhere said this—a thing which you might be able to conceal on account of the hatred you have conceived toward us—that obviously, while equivocal things do not share with each other in certain respects, they do in fact communicate in others. For neither does a statue of Lysander have absolutely no community with Lysander himself, nor does an image [lack one] with its own exemplar. But you ask, furthermore, What help do species bring to things or to eternal things, ^D

^A or to whatever else is generated and perishes? For they do not cause them to be moved or changed. Here Aristotle now reveals himself, and makes it manifest for what reason he has moved to war against the Ideas. For he neither perceives nor wishes for there to be any cause in eternal things for why they should be and exist, beyond the fact that they are moved, and it is for this very reason that he battles with the Platonists. Otherwise, what could he mean when he says, "What help do the species bring either to the things subject to sense, or to any others that are generated and perish? For they do not cause them to be moved or changed." Or certainly, because he deems the species concerning the generation and corruption of things that have a similar nature to be sufficient and quite suitable causes, just as the sun is for those that generate; but he does not perceive that the eternal things subject to sense are moved on account of the species, nor that there is any other cause for the essence and production of any thing. Wherefore, he says, "What help do the species bring them?" But perhaps someone will say that he thinks this cause belongs to God alone, who is the most ancient. To this we answer that while this might be conceived of another, it cannot be conceived of Aristotle, to whom no such thought ever came. For why would that be? Because he would be contrary to himself if he said this. For I will ask those who attribute this to him, why did he not assign all the motions of all the celestial orbs to this very God, who is the most high and most ancient, but rather assigned a different one to each motion individually? ^B Or is it clear that, for the sake of some dignity, he placed over those eternal essences—since they are many—several propagator gods, and admits that these are in some way the cause of them? Or certainly, that he thought the images were the propagators of themselves; for neither would that be entirely inconsistent, since they possessed their own exemplars. And in this way he would even seem to subscribe to the Platonic opinion concerning the Ideas, and to take our side. But now it is certain that he does not believe there is any causative origin for them, but that in this way they are such as they are, propagated by themselves and moved only toward some end, and that [that end is] God himself. "And further," he says, "they do not help at all toward the knowledge of other things; for they are not the essence of those things (for then they would be in those things themselves), nor, as they are the same, do they contribute to their being anything, if indeed they are not the things in which they participate." Who, therefore, will judge better of an image? Is it not the one who also has the exemplar known? For he who has not known the exemplar will not have the image as clearly perceived and known as the other, who has known it himself. How, however, does he who is not in the things themselves, but is nevertheless their cause, not help them at all toward their being? Moreover, he says, "Species are not only the exemplars of sensible things, but also of themselves, just as the genus is of their species," ^C making them appear perfect. For the solar intellect would not be moving them if they were still to be perfected. For indeed these participable [entities] would not be able to act on other bodies without the bodies that are conjoined to them. But all bodies require both a certain position and shape toward the things that are to be affected, which [bodies] then the sun would no longer possess toward them. So that they would no longer be perfected by the sun at that point, nor would they be perfected by themselves through themselves, for no power proceeds into action unless it is advanced by some other action. Nor does that which is perfect in potentiality ever become perfect in reality unless it is advanced by some other thing which is more perfect in reality. "For these reasons," they will say, "we assign this action that then perfects such things to these species." And dividing the entire separate forms into those that are sufficient in themselves to work their effects through themselves, and those that are not likewise sufficient: those we set up as paradigms and causes for the eternal things here; but these [we set up] for the corruptible things here, which require also the cooperation of the sun to bring the matter to them, but once they have received the matter, they act also through themselves upon it. "And we are not innovating," they will say, "nor are we inventing new causes, as you say, but we are giving a full account of causes to the things that are, ^D while you are deficient." For splitting you, perhaps, into four species of causes, you appear to use three of them yourself—the final, the motive principle, and the material—but the fourth, the formal, you do not use at all. For if the nature of the form of each of the sensible things seems to you to be such a cause, this most clearly is not a cause at all, but would be the work and effect of some other cause, just as the matter of each is also a judgment and effect of the matter of the whole universe. "We, however," they will say, "assign the final and most excellent of the causes, the form, to the King of all, God, not only in motions but also in essences and in all things that are. And setting up these forms as paradigms for the things that are, and assigning the motive principle to the soul that leads this universe, and the material to the matter of this whole universe, thus do we return the species of causes full to the things that are." These things, surely, those who posit the forms will say, showing their own things to be consonant with their own hypotheses, and convicting Aristotle of at the same time slandering some things, accomplishing nothing with others, and being ignorant of the greatest things. For how is Aristotle not ignorant of the greatest things? Both for the many other reasons we have mentioned, and most especially because of the greatest thing, the production of eternal essences, and because there is no reference of any of all things to the existence [of a cause], not as Plato and those around Plato, in setting up the King of all, God, over the things that are, suppose Him to be the producer of producers and the creator of creators, referring everything to Him. And that must be said above all, that Plato appears to be following some of those before him, and contradicting others. But Aristotle, opposing all and curtailing all, and

even if he were to use some of what was said before him, it is manifest that he does not at all wish to appear as using what has been said by others, doing this in a very sophistical manner and one most alien to a philosopher; such is that boast of his at the end of his logical works, where he claims that the entirety of this method is his own, and maintains that of this method, one part did not exist and another did not exist, but that it did not exist at all. And this, even though Archytas had written logical works before him, some of which he himself has used, and even though Plato himself both imparted the principles of logic and everywhere used the method with great skill, and called the method of discourse something that was neither of a kind that was not, nor something that had never been discovered, but was in fact very much in use. What then would one say? That Aristotle's books are not worth pursuing? Indeed they are, for the sake of the useful things in them—though we know that many base things are intermingled with them. ^A

It is in the same way ^B that a thing might happen to have become the image and the exemplar of one and the same thing; then certainly this would be absurd and by no means agreeable to reason, as if one and the same thing were simultaneously said to be both greater and less than one and the same object. But now, what prevents one and the same thing from being the image of one, and the exemplar of another? Or will a painter produce another image of a statue that is itself an image? And will not some reflection of that same statue be rendered in water? And such is this pretense of Aristotle. Let us move on to another of his arguments. Furthermore, he says, even if there are species, those things which come to be do not come to be unless there is something which moves them. And many other things come to be, such as houses and rings, of which they deny the existence of species; so that it is clear that it is permitted for those things of which they claim there are ideas, both to exist and to come to be for such causes as those by which they naturally come to be, and which are not entirely resolved by the sun, nor are they perfected by themselves. For no potentiality proceeds to act unless it is pushed by some other force of act, nor, on the other hand, does that which is perfected only by a lurking force or potentiality become perfected in reality, unless it be promoted by another which is in reality more perfect. For these reasons, they will say, we assign that act, by which such things are accustomed to be perfected, to those species and ^C exemplars. And, distinguishing these species separated from sensible things in two ways—those which are fit to produce works by themselves, and those which cannot do so in the same way—the former we establish as the causes and exemplars of those eternal things which are subject to sense; but the latter we establish as the causes and exemplars of the things here that are corruptible, which indeed require the help and assistance of the sun alone, which brings matter to them, for once they have received matter from the sun, they themselves also exercise power over it. Nor, they will say, do we introduce a new kind of philosophy, nor do we investigate new causes, as you say, but rather we attribute to things the full and absolute number of causes, which you render imperfect and diminished. For although you also divide causes into four genera, you yourself appear to use the work of three—the final, the material, and the one that provides the beginning of motion—but the formal, which is the remaining one, you do not use at all. For if you were to say that the species or form of any object subject to sense is a cause of that kind, that clearly is not the cause, but the effect or work of some other cause. We, they will say, ^D attribute the end itself—which is the most excellent genus of all causes, not only of motions but also of essences and of all things that exist—to that supreme guardian and King of things, God; but those species or forms of things, we establish as the exemplars; and that cause which provides the beginning of motion, we attribute to that soul which is set over this heaven; and finally, the material cause, to the matter from which this universe consists.

Those who establish the species ^A in this way will perhaps answer the objections of Aristotle, where they certainly do not deviate at all from their own principles, but they convict Aristotle partly of calumnies, partly of not accomplishing what he intended, and then especially of betraying his own ignorance in many matters. And by what reason, finally, will Aristotle escape the charge of ignorance in the greatest matters and in many others which we have already recounted? And especially in this, that he assigns no author or propagator to eternal essences or natures, nor is he willing to attribute them to anyone ^B as the source from which they exist? This is something that Plato did not do, nor those who follow Plato, who—as is well known—establish God, the prince and king of all things, as the one who puts all existing things in order, the very father and creator of all other things that can generate anything, and the founder and effector of all things whatsoever that work anything by a fixed plan, and they refer absolutely nothing of the things that exist away from Him. That also I cannot pass over in silence: that Plato confesses in his writings that he does not assent to certain of the ancients, while some he does not. But Aristotle, although he indiscriminately contradicts everyone and reprehends everyone, yet names no one whose instruction he confesses to have been educated by, from which it appears that he wished to be seen as the inventor of everything he wrote—a thing ^C which is plainly sophistical and alien to the habits of a true philosopher. To this also pertains the fact that, at the end of his logical works, he boasts that the entire work on the dialectical method is his own, and he adds that this method was not even partially explored, but rather that there was absolutely no such method at all. Yet it is established that Archytas had constructed the art of logic before him, whose precepts Aristotle himself made use of; furthermore, Plato partly handed down the principles of logical disciplines and partly even made use of them himself, not without art, in his own writings, and he speaks of the logical art as being "explored," though not yet perfected, yet not as being entirely uninvented but already completely in use. What, therefore, might someone say? That Aristotle’s books are not worth reading? [They are of value] even entirely because of the useful matters contained within them, provided we are mindful that many errors are mixed in with them.

INDEX OF CHAPTERS OF THIS BOOK.

Preface, in which the comparison of Plato and Aristotle is discussed, according to the judgment of the ancients and the moderns. I cannot here but commemorate certain things that some ancient and most celebrated writers have reported concerning the life and habits of Aristotle, ^D so that it may be more evidently apparent that not all the assumptions of this philosopher are to be embraced as always true, and therefore are not rashly refuted by Gemistus. For the better a man is considered to be, the more what he thinks seems to resemble the truth.

Theodoret, Bishop of Cyrrhus, writes thus in the twelfth book of his work against the Greek Gentiles: "It was Aristotle’s custom to sell the oil with which he had previously anointed himself while it was warm. And when once he had sailed to Chalcis, the tax collectors, having searched his baggage, found seventy-four jars of his oil, or as others report, three hundred."

The same author, in the fifth book, writes: "Aristotle, however, while Plato was still alive, showed himself to be a manifest adversary, having undertaken a war against the Academy; he rendered no honor to that doctrine which he had, most liberally, once received, nor did he revere the glory of that most celebrated man, nor did he fear the power of Platonic eloquence, but impudently bore himself as his adversary, while yet he proved himself in no way the author of better dogmas, but much worse ones than Plato. For when the latter said that the soul was immortal, the former said it was mortal; and when the former said that God completes all things with his providence, the latter—as much as his arguments can—makes the world an exile from divine providence."

Laurentius Valla subscribes to Theodoret in his prologue to his Dialectics. "What he compiles," he says, "he does not attribute to those from whom he took it, but claims it for himself; and wherever he opines that they have erred, he could sooner hold a burning flame in his mouth than [refrain from naming them]."

CHAPTER I. What Plato felt concerning God and the creation of all things, and what Aristotle felt. In which place it is also explained how Plato called the soul "generated" and "unbegotten."

CHAPTER II. Aristotle is rebuked because he does not consider the one supreme president and king of all things to be sufficient for moving all things, but adds to him other, certain minds as associates in moving them.

CHAPTER III. Whether the genus of all things that are exists, that is, whether "being" is such a thing that it embraces the first ten genera univocally and not equivocally.

CHAPTER IV. Whether Aristotle correctly called genera and species "secondary," but singulars "primary" substances—that is, whether genera and species are less than singulars, and pertain in the second place to the definition of essence or the contrary.

CHAPTER V. Whether the universal obtains the definition of matter, but the part that of form—that is, whether the universal pertains to matter rather than the part.

OF PLATONIC AND ARISTOTELIAN PHILOSOPHY

^AChapter VI. Whether that which can be perceived by sense itself is older than sense, which they call the sensible, or whether both are so by nature. In which place the nature of relatives is simultaneously explained. Chapter VII. The nature and property of the indefinite proposition is explained, and it is questioned whether it be true, as is taught among the Peripatetics, that the same proposition can be found to be both affirmative and negative. Chapter VIII. Whether a necessary conclusion follows from two premises, of which one is necessary and the other simple, or whether it follows from a simple premise alone. Where the nature of the middle term and of propositions or premises is simultaneously examined.

Chapter IX. The distinction between God, minds or intelligences, and the soul is explained, and that the [Greek: ὑπερούσιον] (the supersubstantial) is strictly one, that is, that in the supreme God existence, power, and activity—or if it is preferred, essence, potency, and act—are in no way considered distinct; that is, that He is not one thing at one time, powerful at another, and active at another, but that He simultaneously is, and is powerful, and is active. Whence subsequently Aristotle is reproached for having defined the soul as an act. Regarding which matter it is pleasing to append also the censure of the learned man, Jacob Ziegler, who writes as follows in a certain place: "But I ask—what has become of that necessity of demonstrations which he (meaning Aristotle) follows, he who departs from his own writings as he pleases? Or, in defining the soul, did he use a demonstration? 'The soul,' he says, 'is the act of a physical organic body having life in potency.' Therefore, let another, following his example, define: 'a charioteer is the actor of a course having motion in ^Bpotency.' Did he touch upon those things which pertained to the substance of man—I mean the genus and essential difference—from which it was necessary that a definition be derived?"

Chapter X. The Platonic dogma is defended, by which it is taught that souls descending from heaven, by drinking in oblivion of divine things of which they were conscious in heaven, do not learn on earth, but rather remember—some more, some less—what they had known previously in that place.

^CChapter XI. Whether the soul is immortal according to Aristotle, and whether any goods are to be posited after death. Chapter XII. Whether virtues are to be measured by quality and quantity, and whether they are to be called mediocrities, as Aristotle contends. Chapter XIII. What is the supreme good, and whether Aristotle rightly placed supreme happiness in contemplative pleasure. Chapter XIV. That the heaven is of an igneous nature, and that there ought not to be given a fifth body besides the four elements. Chapter XV. Concerning the immobility of the stars, and how rightly Aristotle constitutes the celestial bodies as animated creatures. Chapter XVI. Whether the celestial bodies heat these inferior things by the force and nature of fire, or by motion alone. Chapter XVII. Whether art and nature deliberate while they are doing something. Chapter XVIII. Whether all things that come to be, come to be necessarily, or if some things occur contingently, and whether there must be granted something among those things which come to be which does not have the cause of its own being. Gemistus treats of such an argument for the whole chapter, which if anyone has before his eyes, he will understand the matter clearly. "Everything that comes to be, comes to be from some cause. But every cause that produces something, produces that very thing both necessarily and certainly. Therefore, all things come to be necessarily." Aristotle indeed concedes the minor premise, but he limits the major, whence he is reproached by Gemistus.

Chapter XIX. That motion in natural things is equivocal, and that the one comes to be by acting, the other by being acted upon. Chapter XX. Concerning ideas: whether ideas exist; then what they are, and of what sort, and by what arguments the Platonists defend them against their adversary Aristotle.

GEORGII GEMISTII PLETHONIS AND MICHAELIS APOSTOLII TWO FUNERAL ORATIONS

PREFACE

When I applied my mind to publishing these small works of a more recent age, I readily saw that it would be more desirable if I could bring to light some classical author whose works, having been lost, are still lamented by scholars. But such, indeed, is the injury caused by time: it has destroyed the best and spared the worthless; although I do not deny that perhaps there was not a little among the lost works that we might esteem as good and ancient. For, to offer some justification for these authors of mine as is the custom, since today there seems to be no hope left that any classical author will ever be found, is it not also some good if, from time to time, certain "proletarian" authors, especially when they possess some reputation, are brought into the light? And indeed, this Gemistus of mine, known for a long time as being among the better authors, will not lose that bit of reputation which he possesses through this oration. It seems superfluous to offer a more precise judgment concerning him, whose singular learning and excellent style of speaking that most learned man, Leo Allatius, (1)—whether he fashioned it so for himself, or whether it is truly so—has praised in such a way that one might hope that no one, unless he be someone whom no reverence for antiquity touches, would reprehend this Plethon. And if anyone by chance is not terrified by the authority of Leo, since the situation has indeed come to pass that our contemporaries are eager to appear wiser than all those "lions" of antiquity, we delegate them to the judgment of the cardinal, Bessarion I mean (2), whom we know to have been very close to the Holy See (3) and therefore almost incapable of error. But enough of this: for I would not wish to seem to introduce funeral orations in a manner so inappropriate.

Regarding Georgius Gemistus Plethon (4), just as concerning the other Georges, Leo has expounded so learnedly and copiously that it seems he has left little or perhaps even nothing to be searched out. Let it be permitted to transcribe these few things from his *Diatriba*: that Gemistus was a Byzantine by birth, lived for a long time in the Peloponnese, and in Italy under Eugenius IV, in the year 1438, was in the company of Bessarion, Theodorus Gaza, and others. Concerning his various writings, of which a great part is still unpublished, the same author...

^A Allatius treats more fully (5), in which he commemorates the Funeral Oration for the Empresses Hypomene and Cleope, a Monody for the Empresses Hypomene and Cleope (6), and a Funeral Oration on the death of Queen Cleope Palæologina, in which the immortality of the soul is discussed (7), and which it is most certain is this very one of ours. The Prince Theodorus, however, whose wife Cleope he laments, was not that Porphyrogennetos who was the brother of Manuel Palæologos, the most praiseworthy prince, regarding whom one must consult the writers named in note (8), but the younger Theodorus Porphyrogennetos, the successor of that uncle Theodorus. He was the son of Andronikos, ^B the Despot of the Peloponnese, the same, I believe, to whom our author wrote his *Symbouleutikon* on establishing Peloponnesian affairs (9). I know of no one else who commemorates this Cleope of ours, except for Georgius Phrantzes in his *Chronicle of Byzantine Affairs* (from the version of Jac. Pontanus at the end of Theophylact, Ingolstad. 1604, 4º) II, c. 10. At this passage, Pontanus wrongly confuses the two Theodoroi. She died in the year of Christ 1433 and was buried in the monastery of the *Zoodotos* (Life-giver). I have nothing more to offer at this time concerning this illustrious pair of spouses, nor is it strictly necessary, since the oration is easily understood in itself.

Regarding the oration of Michael Apostolios: because it proceeded from a man who was a friend (10) and faithful defender (11) of Gemistos, and because it was written for a man who was a supreme patron of Plethon and Apostolios (12); and no less because it is pervasively and openly imitative of Gemistian style, ^C I judge that I have added it here as an excellent companion (a). This Michael Apostolios was a Greek exile who came to Italy in the middle of the fifteenth century, at first kindly treated by Bessarion, but later, after the Cardinal had died, he spent his life poor and needy on the island of Crete, copying books (13). There is no need to speak here of his other writings (14); Labbeus commemorates this oration of ours (15), and intended to publish it along with his acclamations to Bessarion. Leo Allatius had it in his seventh volume of the *Symmikta* (16).

That Bessarion, whom our author followed in his mourning, was a Trapezuntine by birth, a monk of the Order of St. Basil, and Archbishop of Nicaea; he was the first among the Greeks to be co-opted into the College of Cardinals in the year 1439 by Eugenius IV, and in the year 1463 he was honored by Pius II with the title of Patriarch of Constantinople. He died at Ravenna on 15 November 1472, returning from Gaul, ^D whither he had been sent as legate by Sixtus IV: he was buried in Rome at the Church of the Holy Apostles, where he had erected a monument for himself while still living in 1466. All the authors who have written about him praise his singular integrity, his fidelity, the candor of his soul, and the gentleness of his manners (17). His singular erudition, for that time, is testified to by his Greek and Latin works (18), primarily those elegant versions of Xenophon’s memorable works and the Metaphysics of Aristotle.

The codex from which I transcribed both of these orations belongs to our famous Rhedigerian collection in the church of St. Elizabeth (regarding whose treasures Scheibelius, a most learned man and one who deserves well of almost every kind of literature, has promised to our ears that he will soon report more accurately to the learned). It is a paper manuscript, for the most part written by Antonios Damilas and Michael Apostolios, with an extraneous hand intervening here and there, which however happens rarely, though it is truly very bad and difficult to read. A certain Georgius Plusiadinos wrote a few pages, as is noted in one place. The letters are small, many are in individual pamphlets, but for the most part they use standard scribal abbreviations. It contains the following:

1. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, *On the Composition of Words*. 2. Theophrastus, *Characters*. 3. Isocrates, *To Demonicus*. 4. Palaephatus, *On Unbelievable Things*. 5. A rhetorical treatise (Michael Apostolios, which I see in Leon’s *Symmikta*, Cat. Fabr. XIV, p. 9, n. 78). *Definition: "Phrasis is an ornate discourse, or a discourse uttered according to some more elaborate expression."*

(a) But there was no place for it among us here. See the following volume among the Prolegomena to the works of Bessarion. EDIT.

FUNERAL ORATION FOR THE LADY CLEOPA, WIFE OF OUR MOST DIVINE RULER, LORD THEODORE, BY GEORGIUS GEMISTUS

^A Solon, that wise man, used to advise those who were considered happy by themselves and by most other men to look to the end of life, since it sets a seal upon human fortunes and estates. It seems to me that he urged this not only because of the turnings of fortune, which have much instability, at least to our way of thinking, but also because of virtue itself, by which he himself—if indeed he was wise—would define human happiness and felicity; just as he says somewhere in his poems, when comparing himself to the rich:

But we to them will never yield The wealth we hold for virtue’s field, Since virtue stands forever sure, While gold of men shifts to and fro.

^B "For many evil men grow rich, while the good are in need."

^A But thus much might be said concerning that perfect virtue which is attained with knowledge, a virtue which he himself, being a wise man, possessed. For when knowledge is added to man, it necessarily masters everything and safely directs it toward that which is always best, wherever it may lead. ^B And with regard to the many who pursue virtue, although they pursue it without knowledge, but are led by right opinion, one may see that they sometimes perform many great deeds and achieve great renown. Yet they also sometimes commit great errors, as they are but unskilled guardians of virtue, because they do not know in what sense virtue is a good; but for those who have lived to the end of their lives without error, the termination of life provides a great security for the good deeds already performed during life, as these can no longer be overturned by sins.

For this reason, one might consider funeral and commemorative orations far more secure than other eulogies delivered for men, inasmuch as they concern actions already firm and possessing a certain great certainty. And the Athenians, administering the state according to the laws of Solon, ordained that this kind of eulogy should be used especially for those who have died a noble death.

^C We, too, have been prompted to speak this oration concerning the departed wife of our most divine prince, partly because she attained the beautiful end of life, namely, the perseverance of virtue until death, and we did not think it right to refuse to adorn her with our speech, and partly that we might personally discharge this debt of reverence and goodwill which she never ceased to show toward us.

For she was born in the region of Italy, the inhabitants of which we know were the Romans, who in times past, advancing upon the continent, had conquered the greater and better part of almost the entire inhabited world. And they set the boundaries of their own empire: to the north by the Ister, to the south by the uninhabitable parts of Libya, to the west by the Ocean, and to the east by the river Tigris. ^D Her parents were born of virtue and military skill, by which they had gained control of the cities over which they ruled, and they were always renowned among all people in matters of this kind.

Thus, born of such parents, and having come here, she was wedded to our most divine prince, being herself beautiful and good, as he was beautiful and good, and bringing with her a great and splendid adornment of both body and soul: of body, beauty and stature; and of soul, a disposition naturally adapted to every virtue. For some women, having obtained bodily beauty, then set against it much unsightliness of soul, rendering it useless, or rather—

^A harmful both to themselves and to others. She, however, beyond a splendid bodily beauty, exhibiting on the other hand a still more splendid and divine beauty of soul, rendered the bodily form, as it were, an image of the beauty within the soul.

Thus she adorned herself with the ornament of every virtue—prudence, temperance, gentleness, kindness, piety, love for her husband, and generosity—being naturally well-disposed toward each of these, and having joined to this meditation and exercise, she showed herself as a most brilliant statue among women. Of these individual virtues we shall provide evidence, briefly indeed, but sufficiently, so that what has been said may not seem to anyone to be mere offhand opinions.

For prudence is not only the ability to use, with experience, proper social intercourse with those one ought, and so to receive and render reason well, but also the ability to advance toward remaining virtue and honor. The work of prudence, indeed, is the discernment and choice of that which is always better. ^B

A great proof of temperance was her most precise transition from that Italian style of living, soft and relaxed, to the gravity and modesty of our own custom, so that she did not yield in this even to one of the women among us.

Her gentleness and kindness were proven by the fact that she was never the cause of any evil to anyone, but was always the cause of many goods to many, treating those who sinned with the utmost mildness and bestowing benefits upon the needy—and, for the most part, upon those men and women who had progressed further than others in the life of virtue and were most devoted to God.

The proof of her piety was her worship of God, which she manifested in accordance with our rite through constant prayers and fastings.

The same diligence applied to her love for her husband, whom she not only imitated in other ways through her submissiveness, ^C but also in such matters, contending with the good strife of Hesiod, she strove not to be surpassed, but to surpass if she could, being a rival in emulation:

^D

"She appointed another Strife. And the son of Cronus, high-throned, who dwells in the ether, Placed her in the roots of the earth, and to men she is much better. She rouses even the shiftless man to work; For when one who is lacking in work looks at another Who is rich, and who hastens to plow and to plant, And to order his house well; then neighbor rivals neighbor Hastening to wealth; and good is this Strife for mortals."

^A And the nobility of mind regarding all these toils and labors, which are not light, does not fail.

And since, having lived in such pursuits and having practiced and studied these things, always adding good to good, she—after her young daughter, who was as beautiful as she was good, and worthy of her parents, in the very flower of age, and, I would add, having also just received the most sacred of our mysteries within our most holy solemnities—succumbed to a disease most acute and beyond all medical treatment, she departed from this life. ^B Thus she may justly be considered beloved of God, having been taken up by God at such an opportune time, leaving behind much grief for her subjects, and the greatest sorrow for our most divine ruler upon her departure.

But if there were nothing immortal in man, the sorrow for death would be, as is to be expected, irremediable. But now, ^C as we profess that one part of us is mortal and the other immortal, it clearly follows that the immortal part is our most governing part and that which most truly is man, while this mortal part is like a tunic, adapted to that which in us knows no death.

Thus, let it be well, if, upon the casting off of this tunic, we do not grieve excessively for ourselves or for our dear ones, since that which is most important in us, and which we ourselves are, not only stands and is preserved, but has passed to things better than those here; for, having laid aside this mortal and earthly covering, it attains the divine and enjoys it, being better and more sincere, especially if one has already had exercise and habit here for such things—which we hope she who has just departed will obtain, she who lived well, served God well, and prepared herself well for that heavenly conversation.

But he who has been unexercised in those things here, ^D arriving there, would naturally be seized with dizziness and turn away, as one encountering things alien and in no way pertaining to himself. We ought to think of death as if it were a long journey, and one entered upon with hope for much better things. For most people weep as their friends depart, turning over in their minds the mutual separation in the present. And yet, reflecting on the hopes for which they are girding themselves for the journey, they rejoice with them, which indeed becomes manifest when they assist them in the many things that contribute to the journey. Thus, therefore, it would not be at all inappropriate for us to grieve at first for a little while when we are left by our dear ones in death, at the very moment of being left behind. Yet, considering to what abodes and what better and more divine things these have migrated, and ourselves—

^A being left behind for only a short time, we shall join them again for a better and higher purpose; thus, we ought to shed the greater part of our grief and bear the calamity as gently as possible.

Perhaps it will not be out of place to discuss a few quite elementary points concerning the immortality and eternity of the soul. For there may be some who think it a matter for doubt, and who fear that once man has died, the soul itself is dissolved along with this mass of the body and survives nowhere at all. Unless one can remove this fear from the minds of such people, they will derive little or no benefit from any other arguments.

For that the human soul is immortal ^B is a doctrine not only ours, nor one of recent origin, nor one merely bruited about in many parts of the world, but it is ancient, derived from antiquity, and has always been both spoken of and celebrated by the vast majority of the most highly esteemed nations throughout the world, and indeed is believed by nearly all men to be so. This is evident from the fact that all men without exception perform certain funeral rites for the departed, convinced that they are rendering them not to those who are now nothing, but to those who exist and subsist to the highest degree. It is evident that men hold the same view ^C regarding the belief in a divine power and the immortality of the soul. For all men maintain that there is a divine power and worship it according to their own established laws, and all, in performing rites for the deceased, openly profess that they survive and subsist, so that both beliefs share the same certainty. But if one must doubt anything whatsoever, one certainly ought not to doubt these things which are so manifestly and universally and always believed by all mankind.

Furthermore, no creature lacking reason believes that any divine power exists, because it does not understand causality, ^D nor can it be affected by a desire for immortality, because it does not comprehend infinity; and if it does not comprehend infinity, neither does it comprehend eternity. But to the rational nature alone, among many other things, has been given the knowledge of both cause and infinity. Man, endowed with this, insofar as he has been allotted a rational soul by God, understands the divine power and also understands immortality, and at the same time desires it. For God would by no means give to a nature that is entirely alien to Himself the faculty of knowing the immortal, but rather to one that is in some degree akin to Him; for if it is necessary to communicate that which knows to that which is known, those things which communicate with each other must be in some way akin. Nor would He have implanted a desire for eternity in man, only to leave it imperfect and vain. For there is nothing else of the great and according to

nature ^A that is ever left incomplete by God; but rather, as is fitting, all things are made suitable for their purpose, and if there is a suitable end for them, they always, or at least for the most part, attain that end, and thus neither that which is the faith in the divine power nor the yearning for immortality is in vain. ^B And indeed, that the human soul is immortal may be argued even from voluntary deaths. For you see that no irrational creature kills itself deliberately; but among men there are those who end their own lives. Furthermore, if there were nothing that would desire death for itself (for those animals that lack reason, even if they do not desire immortality because they understand nothing of the matter, yet never seem to hasten of their own accord toward their own destruction), it follows that the human soul would not rush spontaneously towards such a death, if the killing of the body were to bring about the destruction of the soul itself. But since it considers that this life with the body no longer confers any utility upon it, having slain the body, or having abandoned it to those who desire to kill it—so as not to permit anything that might bring shame or harm upon itself—it itself surely hastens to depart.

And concerning these matters, these arguments are sufficient for the present, out of many and stronger ones. Since, however, we have this most solid conviction that our soul is immortal, let us be all the more noble and better in other respects, and let us bear these present calamities with as much gentleness as possible. ^C

Therefore, O our most divine ruler, comforting yourself with these arguments, cast off that great part of your sorrow, and moreover consider in your mind that it is now your duty, as one entirely intent upon affairs, to preserve the commonweal, and that sadness is wont to be the greatest impediment to such administration. For you see how far our adverse circumstances have progressed, and how great is the danger in which our interests lie, and how great is the need for solicitude that we might be safe and sound. Upon you, however, this whole matter depends, and if you alone exercise the care that is right, all others will follow you, and if God grants it, we shall be safe; but if you act more negligently, the danger will be greater. Reflect also that, if any evil should happen—which God forbid—everyone will attribute the primary cause to you, and if anything turns out for our salvation, you will carry off the glory of it. Since, therefore, the primary opinion on both counts looks toward you, and at the same time you owe this to God, Who entrusted this our sovereignty to you, act more robustly and more diligently in the service of the common interests. And may God grant you, as you preserve the commonweal through your diligence ^D

caring for the common good and dealing with things that are necessary, there is need for those things to be great and by no means trivial, so that they may become renowned, not only among us, but also among all other men.

OF THE MOST WISE AND MOST LEARNED LORD GEORGE GEMISTOS PLETHON: FUNERAL ORATION FOR EMPRESS HELENA PALAEOLOGINA

^B Is it not fitting to offer a worthy eulogy to the mother of our emperors and leaders, who has only just departed from this life, or is it an easy task, and one for any chance praiser? And yet, one would not find many women like her among those who have lived in a similar station, nor were the good qualities that belonged to her few. She, then, by birth was a Thracian; and the Thracians are an ancient race, numbered among the greatest of the noble peoples throughout the inhabited world, not only as far as that region which extends from the Euxine Sea to Italy, but also as far as the region beyond, where those of the same tongue dwell extending toward the ocean, and inhabit the continent that is almost uninhabitable on account of the cold; and that region is vast, and far greater than the region situated on this side, and indeed the race has been, from ancient times, by no means base, but rather both manly and not unlearned in its opinions. ^C For instance, Eumolpus, who established the Eleusinian mysteries for the Athenians concerning the immortality of the soul, was a Thracian man, and the Greeks are said to have learned to honor the choir of the Muses from the Thracians. Therefore, a race that is a cultivator of the Muses

^A is not uncultured, nor does it consider the soul of man to be of ignoble status regarding its immortality. Of this race was the father of our Empress, who has now recently departed this life; he ruled a territory not unremarkable, near the Axius river, whose water is considered both most drinkable and most healthful. The king himself was among men the bravest and most just, and most faithful to his friends. Born of such a father, this mother of our emperors and leaders had married their father, who was far superior in noble lineage and the wealth of fortune, and who excelled among the Roman people in the glory of his virtues—even if she herself was born of a lower position, a fact known to all. For whoever considers man the most excellent work of the Creator will by no means deny that there are souls superior to ours. If this is so, what can be more ancient than the opinion which arises from the consideration of created things, and from the end which the Creator of the universe proposed to Himself, than which nothing better or more blessed can be conceived, and of which man himself is clearly a partaker? Therefore, man was created not only to act as the other animals, but that he might simultaneously attain in his acting and in his subsistence with others the example of the most noble kinds existing among us. For a certain relationship must necessarily exist between existence and the faculty of action, and vice versa. But if someone considers man as a beast, he will surely admit that his nature is bestial, yet he will not deny that he is part of a better nature, nor will he wonder that he performs works congruent with his own nature. ^C For he will persuade himself that there are two essences in man: one divine and immortal, the other bestial and mortal. For it can never be conceived that God, who is infinitely good and devoid of all envy, did not endow mortals with some part of the divine nature, namely, immortality. Certainly, that which is mortal will never attain immortality because of the limits placed upon human nature, which do not allow us to be perfect, even if we destroy ourselves for some reason or without reason—a matter which it would be superfluous to discuss now before so many men who are not ignorant of it. Now, however, it will not be tedious to make mention of this matter, since among so many cities that once flourished, you would find it difficult to find another in which virtue and good fortune flourished in a happier union and for a longer time than ^D among the Romans. To this Empress of ours, it happened by a fortunate coincidence that, being born of good and noble parents, she married a Roman Emperor born of a more noble lineage; he succeeded his deceased father, and while struggling with varying fortune in his kingdom, he experienced invasions of the Barbarians and the sieges of cities, not

and of the opposites caused by the sieges of the Barbarians, which were terrible and severe; and especially that which occurred not long after the beginning of the Emperor’s reign, when the siege of our city was the longest and most terrible of all; yet this Empress appeared to bear both fortunes most moderately because of her virtue, neither being humbled in misfortunes nor puffed up in prosperity, but maintaining what was becoming in both seasons. For her wisdom and at the same time her nobility were greater than is standard for a woman, her modesty not inferior to Penelope’s, and we know that she possessed justice in its most perfect form, never having done evil to any man or woman, but having bestowed many good things upon many people. And what definition of justice is more authoritative than that one should never have done evil, but should have been possessed of goods and bestowed them upon many? To those other fortunate circumstances of hers, this was added as the most fortunate: that she was the mother of many good children, who were themselves Emperors, or else leaders and holders of the second rank after the Emperors, all of whom she saw, for the most part, living in harmony with one another. And if it ever happened that they fell into some disagreement, they did not carry the matter to any irreparable extreme, as is wont to happen to most who hold similar positions of power, but, as it were, they quelled their differences without a murmur.

^B This Empress, then, so beautiful and good in her soul, and so fortunate in her lot, has now departed from this life in most cases at an age not untimely, yet we bear her passing with difficulty; for we mortals are so constituted by nature that we bear the vicissitudes and crises of life with a troubled spirit, because we greatly long for the absence of our dear ones and indulge in mourning. For we ought to think about our own death and that of our loved ones in this way: that a better and more excellent place is reserved for us, and that our existence does not end with death. For the doctrine of those who believe that death is the greatest evil is execrable, so that those who follow it, whether individuals or cities, dwell in error and misery. Moreover, it is found to be most false, and it can never make men better. For how could that which is false generate virtue, and that which is true generate vices? Furthermore, looking at the likeness that exists between us and the animals, do not imagine that our essence is similar to the nature of beasts; but looking toward that higher nature which is innate in us, consider it a settled conviction that there is in us another, more divine, and by no means bestial nature. Know that God, a certain creator of the universe, presides over all things by his infinite goodness, nor is there anyone who would not believe this, either by reflecting upon it himself or by hearing it from those who acknowledge the reality of things, unless he has utterly corrupted his mind; nor would he doubt that between Him and us there is some nature superior to us, ^D but inferior to God. For man bears two natures, one immortal, the other mortal; and there is no reason for him to precipitate himself into ruin, but rather to be and to be preserved, as is fitting. Therefore, if a man is to kill his mortal part—and he certainly does not kill the immortal—it matters little for what cause he did it, and this is not the time or place to speak of it. Know

that those peoples who are most ancient and celebrated in our memory, and who hold the most reputable opinions, recognize the immortality of the soul; we know this of the Iberians, Celts, Hyrcanians, ^A Thracians, Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Medes, Indians, and all others who have earned any reputation among men. Therefore, we too believe that the better part of ourselves, as well as that of our relatives and friends, has departed after death to some suitable place, living there separated for a time, but not forever. Thus, we ought not to despair of these things, but rather hope for the best, namely that, on account of their virtue, they will lead a good—or rather, a better—life there. This same belief must therefore be applied to this noble woman whose death we lament. We are all well aware of her holy life, and no one, unless he is utterly mad, doubts that the good, after death, attain a better life with rewards, while the wicked are afflicted with punishments; for God is rightly believed to be a most just and impartial judge. ^B

OF PLETHO, BOOK OF THE LAWS.

This book contains a theology in accord with the doctrines of Zoroaster and Plato, wherein are enumerated the gods who are known through philosophy, under the ancestral names of the Greeks, each of them being drawn from those things—which are not entirely in agreement with ^C philosophy due to the distortions of the poets—into conformity with what is most in harmony with philosophy. It contains ethics according to those same sages and, furthermore, the Stoics. It contains a Laconian polity, though with the overly severe and harsh training removed (which is not approved by many), and with the addition of that philosophy which is held in high regard by leaders—that which is the most excellent among all others, consisting of the Platonic systems of government; also, well-ordered sacred rites, neither too meticulous nor deficient in necessary things. Most natural philosophy is from the opinion of Aristotle. ^D The book also touches in some way upon the principles of logic, Greek antiquities, and, in some places, a healthy diet.

INDEX OF PLETHO’S WORK ON LAWS

Arguments of the first book. α'. On the difference of opinions concerning the greatest things among men. β'. On the principles of the best discourses. γ'. On the two opposing discourses, that of Protagoras and that of Pyrrho. δ'. A prayer to the wise gods. ε'. Common dogmas concerning the gods. ϛ'. On Zeus the King. ζ'. On the supracelestial gods. ^A η'. On the gods within the heaven. θ'. On the eternity of all the gods. ι'. On the generation of Poseidon and other supracelestial gods. ια'. On the generation of the immortals within this heaven. ιβ'. On the generation of mortal beings. ιγ'. On the generation of man. ιδ'. On the disposition of man toward both extremes, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. ιε'. On the stability of the established things themselves. ις'. On the best state of character. ιζ'. On one’s own proper state. ιθ'. On mutual agreements. κ'. On the state (politeia). κα'. On the service of the gods. κβ'. On priests and their life. κγ'. On purifications. κδ'. On trials. κε'. On burial. κϛ'. On the care of the departed. κζ'. On the good that results from these laws. κη'. Division of being. κθ'. On the difference of causes. λ'. On necessity and causes. λα'. On the names of the most ancient gods.

Arguments of the second book. α'. On the criterion for the examination of the subjects proposed. β'. Anticipation of common notions. γ'. That gods exist. δ'. On the providence of the gods. ε'. That gods are not the causes of evils. ϛ'. On fate. ζ'. On the multitude of the gods. η'. On the difference among the races of the gods. ^B θ'. On godliness according to the Curetes. ι'. On the generation of the gods within the heaven, and of other supracelestial gods. ια'. On the generation of the immortals within the heaven. ιβ'. A certain common proof of the three parts of the soul. ιγ'. On the species of the stars. ιδ'. On the powers of the seven stars. ιε'. On the proper revolutions of the stars. ις'. On the common revolution of the stars and the entire aether. ιζ'. On the soul of the stars. ιη'. That daemons exist. ιθ'. That daemons are not evil. κ'. Refutations of calumnies against daemons. κα'. On the difference of daemons. κβ'. On the immortality of the human soul. κγ'. On the creation of mortal things. κδ'. On the creation of mortal human beings. κε'. On sensations and each of the senses. κϛ'. On the things of animals which are determined according to reason. κζ'. On the eternity of the universe.

Arguments of the third book. α'. Resumption of the discourse concerning fate. β'. Resumption of the discourse concerning the immortality of the human soul. γ'. On the end of life. δ'. On prudence and the species of prudence. ε'. On the education of children. ϛ'. On the form of the state (politeia). ζ'. On courage. ^C η'. On things that are up to us and not up to us, through the intermediate argument of courage. θ'. On the species of courage. ι'. On temperance. ια'. On measure and symmetry. ιβ'. On the species of temperance. ιγ'. On power, through the intermediate argument of the species of temperance. ιδ'. On the non-mingling of parents with their offspring. ιε'. On the generation of the gods, through the intermediate argument of parents not mingling with their offspring. ^D ις'. On the cohabitation of more than one wife with one man. ιζ'. On the common use of women. ιη'. On the eating of meat. ιθ'. On one single property in the same house.

^A κ'. On the absence of corruption at the end of each. κα'. On relation. κβ'. On Zeus, that there is no distinction even in reason within him. κγ'. On the universe, that it is one in many ways. κδ'. On the difference of goods. κε'. On justice. κς'. On the kinds of justice. κζ'. A comparison of the kinds of virtue. κη'. On the modes of vice. κθ'. On what is fitting in gifts. λ'. On contributions to the common treasury. λα'. On lawsuits. λβ'. On the names of the gods. λγ'. On prayer. λδ'. On addresses to the gods. λε'. Hymns to the gods. λς'. On the order of the use of addresses and hymns. λζ'. Which sacrifices are to be offered to which gods. λη'. On what actions, to which of the gods, and how one must sacrifice. λθ'. How one must participate in the sacrifices. μ'. On the precision of things concerning the gods. μα'. Against whom one should pray to the gods. μβ'. On divinations. μγ'. Epinomis.

PLETHO ON FATE

^B Are all future events defined and fated, or is it the case that they are not defined at all, but rather proceed indefinitely and in disorder, and in whatever way it might happen? Clearly, all things are defined. For if any of the things that happen were to occur in an undefined way—that is, if they came to be without a cause—there would be some occurrence that had its birth without a cause; or, if it did not happen in a defined way, the cause itself would act without necessity and without being defined, and some of the causes would have performed what they did without necessity or definition. But neither of these is possible. ^C It is even more impossible still if one were to say that the gods change their minds regarding the things they have known beforehand about future events, and bring about other things instead of those they intended to perform, whether persuaded by the prayers or gifts of men, or whether they suffer this in some other way. For those who abolish necessity and fate regarding future events, or who exclude the gods from providence over things here altogether, or who attribute to them the cause of the worse things in place of the best of the possible things, run a risk: for it is impossible that the one or the other—whichever of the two sets of events, whether those known beforehand or those known later, that they choose—should not be worse than the other. Thus, those who abolish fate inevitably fall into one or the other of these two impieties. But both are in many ways impossible, and all future events are fated and ordered from eternity, as far as is possible for them, ordered and defined by one, Zeus, the king of all. If he, too, were not defined, being the only one of all things—since there would no longer be anyone to define him (for all things that are defined would have been defined by their own causes)—he yet remains, as he is greater than to be defined, ever the same and in the same way, and he is the possessor of the greatest and most sovereign necessity, being necessity in and of itself, and not because of anything else, just as he possesses the necessity of ^D the necessities, himself being supremely good, and it is more fitting for him. And to those who proximately proceed from him, he provides this same thing a second time with himself; for he would produce from himself things akin to himself; and these things, at the same time as others, he defines because of himself; and there is nothing either so vast or so small that he himself would not be able to apprehend the definition from himself; for there is nothing of which he is not the most definitive cause. Furthermore, if future events were not defined, they would not even be known beforehand, not only by men, but not even by any of the gods; for it is not possible for knowledge to exist at all of that which is totally undefined; for it would not be possible to define anything regarding it, neither that it will be, nor that it will not be. But now, the gods surely know future events, just as they also define them, and they possess them present in themselves always by way of the cause, even if they have not yet received their birth. And they know them in no other way than by disposing them and being the cause of them; for they would not know them through being disposed by the things that are here; for it is not right, nor is it possible, for the gods to be disposed by things that are worse and that do not yet exist. Since those who still believe in the existence of gods, but abolish their providence and fate regarding things here, and abolish their knowledge regarding things here, are in danger of abolishing both: neither by being disposed are they greater than those who are worse (in that the latter would be knowing), nor through disposing them, if they are not the cause of them; yet every knower must either participate and be disposed in some way by the known in order to know, or be the cause and be the one who disposes; otherwise knowledge would not result, nor would any partnership occur between a knower and a known. Whether the gods were indeed the causes of things here, but not necessarily or definitively the causes of whatever they were the causes of, even so they would not know what they will ever do, not...

necessarily being in relation to them or unchangingly. But the gods know things that are to be, even those of men, whomsoever they might wish, and to the extent they wish, they signify beforehand. And to some who have even learned in advance of things that are to be, and have tried to escape them, nonetheless it turned out that the fated things were inescapable and unavoidable for them; and for some, by this very fact of having learned in advance and having tried to escape, it came about that they fell into the fated things, so in some way this too was fated for them. Therefore, there would be no undoing, nor any turning aside, ^A for those who have once been known by Zeus from eternity and bound by fate.

But if all things are determined, one might say, and nothing exists or happens that does not partake of necessity, then from men would depart freedom, and from the gods justice—from men, in that they do whatever they do by necessity, and further, that they are neither masters of themselves nor free; and from the gods, in that they would either be entirely removed from punishing the wicked, or would not be punishing justly, if indeed the wicked are wicked by necessity. But men would be masters of themselves—not essentially by being ruled by nothing at all, neither by another, nor even by the gods themselves—but by having within themselves a ruler, the reasoning faculty, while the majority is ruled; and of this majority, the one part, the reasoning faculty, which is by nature the best of our parts, would be master. Yet, to say that the reasoning faculty itself would no longer be ruled by anything would not be possible. For first, it might appear to follow external circumstances. Then, if this reasoning faculty does not appear to be affected by the same things in all men, one would not rightly think that it follows things by necessity. For it is clear that this happens depending on the special nature of the reasoning person himself in each instance, and depending on training. For the same thing happens to many, but by differing somewhat from one another, according to how it acts, it will necessarily produce differing effects and experiences. For this reasoning faculty would indeed differ for each person, both in nature and in training; and of nature, the gods would be masters, but of training, the opinion of the one [exercising it] would be master, having been generated in him beforehand, which it would be impossible for anything to come to be, had God not provided it. ^B Therefore, men are masters of themselves insofar as they rule themselves, even if they rule while being ruled; but they are in a way free, and in a way not. For if one calls freedom "not-necessity," he would not appear to be naming it correctly; for he would be forced to call necessity "slavery." But with slavery, there must surely be some mastery, to which one is in slavery, since it is slavery. Therefore, by the most ancient necessity, which we call the Good itself and Zeus—what, then, will be the mastery to which it is in slavery? For the same mastery cannot be both mastery and slavery at once. But if by being ruled and not being ruled one defines slavery and freedom, not only would no man be free, but not even any god other than Zeus—since some are in slavery to others by being ruled, and all have their beginning from the gods, and from the common Master, Zeus. Yet in this way, slavery would not be anything terrible at all, nor to be avoided. For slavery to the Good is not only not terrible, but it is also advantageous and dear, even to the one in slavery; for one would enjoy nothing but good while in slavery to the Good. But if one does not define slavery and freedom in this way, but rather by whether or not one is hindered from living as he wishes (and everyone would wish to act well and be happy), then everyone who is acting well would be free, whether he is being ruled or not, provided he happens to be acting well; for as he wishes, he might live. But one living badly would neither live as he wishes, nor, I suppose, would he be free. Now, men cannot act badly in any other way than by having become wicked, so that no man would wish to become wicked, if at least he could also not act badly; but the wicked become wicked involuntarily, committing errors; nor would anyone be free from evils, but only those who are noble and good. ^C But the gods, in punishing, are surely not making the punishment itself an end, nor are they bringing things to a close at that, but are correcting the transgressions. For since it was not possible for man to not err entirely, having been born as such, composed of both a divine and a perishable nature, but it was necessary now to act well and live happily by being led according to the divine part within him toward the assimilation of the kindred, and now, again, to be dragged down by the mortal part within him so as to act otherwise—the gods have devised for him a certain help and this correction through punishments, so that at some point, by being punished and having paid the penalty, he might be delivered from wickedness, just as one is from a bodily disease by some sharp and painful medicines, and he might act better and receive freedom in exchange for slavery, since no milder correction could reach a more depraved condition; ^D so that nothing would prevent the wicked, even if they are wicked involuntarily, from being punished nonetheless, as they do not suffer any evil, but rather are benefited by being punished. As to the fact, then, that there are gods, and that they provide for men, and that they are not the causes of evils, and that they distribute to each the best things by an unchangeable fate—let this be said sufficiently, for so, at least, it has been reasonably stated.

OF PLETHO ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE HUMAN SOUL.

For in speaking of the immortality of the soul, [Pletho] ^A attempts to strengthen those things which the many call transmigrations—the returns into the body and into life—of the souls in established periods of time; and, as he is able, he deems it worthy that these souls should never be led up to the heavenly place.

OF PLETHO ON LAWS.

.... Not using their own intellect, but being led by the soul of the one ruling the heaven—the soul of the Sun, and further, that of Saturn and the other presiding separate powers—those who receive from the Sun each thing, both of generation and of the life that initiates them, they themselves also carry out ^B now in accordance with things that are in them individually, and being distinguished in the things themselves that are being led, as if by nature. Since, therefore, the animals are led by such diviner things, they do nothing else superfluously (for they would not be led toward anything superfluous either by their own intellect—for they have none—or by those diviner minds that lead them from without; for that is not lawful); and indeed, they perform such an action much more correctly in this regard than humans do. For humans, because they use their own intellect and belief, but go wrong in that very thing, ^C frequently err in other matters and indeed in such an action, not contrary to nature, but only using it more superfluously, but now even contrary to nature, which becomes altogether more disgraceful than the former. None of the animals err in such a way. For one must consider those mating with different species of their own kind to be by nature meant for something of this sort, so that they might even mate with others not of the same species, but of similar ones and those near to each other. If, therefore, this desire were weaker in humans, it would have been necessary to legislate differently about such a thing. But now the gods, knowing somewhere that, because humans use an erroneous belief, ^D falling away in many things from what is necessary, and indeed also by using the act of venery not only more superfluously, but on the contrary, some even abstaining from it altogether—some not even thinking it holy at all, others thinking it holy but still better to abstain—and some also [having] some way of child-rearing and wife-rearing, [even] the loss of children for some in such a way that they would rather choose not to have children at all [rather than] losing them, whereas it is necessary to entrust the life of the children to the gods themselves, and not to depart from the work and service that is incumbent upon themselves toward both the common kin and this whole—the gods, therefore, knowing the things that would happen to humans because of the erroneousness of their belief, such as even now happens to some, so that, many abstaining from venery, the providence from Zeus concerning the communion of mortals and immortals in the human species might not be hindered, they implanted in humans this most strong desire, not easily to be overcome unless the belief that holds this desire in check were to stand by, being the strongest. But the belief that one must abstain from venery altogether, they knew would not be very strongly encountered by many, but that the many who would fall into this belief would fall into it more weakly, knowing that it would not be difficult to overcome a belief weakly resisting a most strong desire that is troubling it. For as respects the gods, rather than [it contributing to] humans not having venery at all... it is necessary that the human be a citizen along with the rest, and not be some solitary. For these reasons, we punish with death the many of those who are polluted in such things, both ridding them of misery and the cities of disgrace. Therefore, if any should ever be caught being polluted contrary to nature in this way—by male-mixing, or animal-mixing, or any other such unspeakable and unmentionable pollution, which has been invented by the most depraved of men—to cleanse them with fire, burning alive both the one acting and the one suffering; and if anyone should be caught having mounted a beast, to burn this also with him in the same way.

^A Likewise, burn the adulterers themselves, as well as those who instigate this in them, whether they be men or women, whoever they might be. As for the women who are adulteresses, we must have them shorn of their hair—as is the custom with prostitutes—and handed over to the care of those in charge of prostitutes, to live out the rest of their lives in prostitution, so that, in return for the marriages they did not keep as they had promised, they might, as much as lies within them, preserve the marriages of others, using a remedy that is not defiled for those who are soft in their desires for them. Burn likewise any man caught violating any woman, unless she be a prostitute, even if she be a courtesan who has not yet engaged in prostitution. Furthermore, if a man is caught violating a prostitute, he is to be burned if she was not clean from the menstruation women are accustomed to. As for all these, since they are most defiled, they are to be taken and burned in certain private polyandria (cemeteries), not in the common ones. For three-fold are the polyandria to be in every place, separated by clear boundaries from one another: one for the priests, another for the rest of the common people, and a third for these defiled ones—where, if any sophist is caught arguing against these opinions of ours, he too is to be burned alive. And if anyone is caught having sexual relations with his daughter or mother, or with any of those in the ancestral lines above or below these, let him be punished with infamy until he is sufficiently cleansed, and in addition to the infamy, let him be excluded from all sacred rites. In this same polyandrion of the defiled, let the homicide also be burned, whenever he is judged by the magistrates to have dared some one of the more defiled murders. If anyone has sexual relations with a virgin, or a woman who has been moved, who is not promised to a husband but is being maintained meanwhile by her master, and he is caught having done this willingly—in such a way that the punishment for him would be death—let him be burned in the common polyandrium ^B and punished with death without delay. In disputed criminal cases, the accused is to be convicted by a majority of votes. Let the accused be acquitted of wrongdoing not only by a lesser number of votes cast against him, but even if the votes are equal. Furthermore, let this also be added to the discourse on trials: if someone is being judged before the council for a crime of this sort, to which death is the penalty, and he demonstrates some good deeds he has performed, which appear to outweigh the crime in magnitude or number, let this man, as one who is not yet corrigible and whose nature is not wicked, but who has merely experienced some misfortune of the others and a lack of proper upbringing, not be punished with death, but with certain long-term bonds. But enough concerning such things. For if anything has been left out by us, still the things already said in the whole book are sufficient, with the gods assisting, to produce such a disposition in our rulers that they might discern both well and rightly even those matters which have not been clarified by us.

EPINOMIS

^C As for the things set forth for you at the beginning of this book, they have been completed with the gods, the guardians of such things, to whom we both refer and dedicate this composition along with Poseidon, and it has been carried through sufficiently. For it has been demonstrated to us what the beginning of all things is, and which natures among all things are primary and closest to the beginning, which are secondary, and which are tertiary and ultimate, and what position man has occupied among them, and from what he is composed, and what sort of life is fitting for him, so that he may live happily. For this desire, which is indeed of supreme importance and common to all, all people pursue—but they do not seek it in the same life, but rather by which... everything has been demonstrated from premises and axioms that are not weak or controversial, others besides, but especially those three greatest ones: first, that this beginning of all things, the greatest god, whom we call Zeus in our ancestral tongue, is supremely good—so that no excellence of good is lacking to him, insofar as it is possible for the best to be. Second, that essences must be proportional to their generations, and generations to essences. And third, that actions must be proportional to these essences, and essences to these actions. For with these fixed axioms assumed, from the first it is demonstrated to us, among other well-established doctrines, that the whole universe has become eternal with Zeus, and at the same time, because it has come to be the most beautiful of all things that exist, it remains in the same state throughout the whole of eternity, at least because of the structure which has once for all been ^D demonstrated to him as immovable; for…

^A it would be impossible for God, who is in every way the best, either to abandon his own work, or to fail to do good in any way whatsoever (for it would be necessary for that same best being to share his own good with others, as far as is possible, and always), or, while doing and producing good, to find his power at any time inadequate, and then to produce a work inferior to what might have been produced, or such as it would have been at its best. For it is clearly manifest that if Zeus should move anything that has been established, the whole, whether sooner or later, would be shown to be worse. For if even a single part of it should change—either one not accustomed to change before, or one changed not in its accustomed way—it is impossible that the whole structure should not also change along with it. For the same structure cannot be preserved unless all the parts remain the same in every way.

From the second axiom, the condition of divine matters is revealed to us. ^B Since the essence of all things is divided into that which is always the same and exists in the same way in all respects, and into that which is moved in time but yet is eternal, and into a third which is mortal, and since each essence requires its own proper generation and that which is proportionate to it, we assign the generation of the first to the Principle of all things, to Zeus; but that of the second, to Poseidon, the summit of this first essence, who also employs the pure among his brothers as collaborators, one for one thing and another for another; and the third, to Cronus, the eldest of the illegitimate offspring of Zeus, and to Helios, the most powerful of the pure offspring of Poseidon, both of them currently employing—one for one task and one for another—Cronus for all the illegitimate brothers, and Helios for those more similar to himself, the Planets, so called because of their diverse motion.

From the third axiom, the nature of man is demonstrated to us, as being a composite of two types: the bestial and mortal, and the immortal and kindred to the gods. ^C For since man is seen to be active, sometimes with bestial deeds, and at other times with deeds similar to those of the gods, there must be assigned to each of these deeds its own proper essence which has a corresponding nature. And that certain human deeds are similar to those of the gods, and these the most serious of them, is evident; for we shall not say that there is any work more serious for the gods than the contemplation of beings, the crown of which is the cognition of Zeus; and man is seen to be a participant in the rest of their contemplation of them, and not even lacking in the cognition of Zeus, to which even the gods themselves attain. There must therefore be in him an essence similar to that of the gods, which also produces a similar work, and an immortal one at that, provided that the essence of the gods is indeed immortal; for a mortal thing could never become similar to an immortal one, not even in any degree; for what has the power of being limited and finite is not at all comparable to that which has it unceasing and infinite. Because of these things, in the giving of those actions which pertain to kinship with the gods, we ourselves—and many others among the decent teachers—declare ^D that which is the happiness of men, which is also that which [must be produced] for those who attend to these words out of the things that exist for man.

That man is composed of two types, and of a nature other than this, is also demonstrated—and this is not open to dispute—by the axiom that nothing of what exists could be moved toward its own destruction, but that all things, to the extent of their power, do not let go of being preserved and existing. For they take this axiom, and then, observing those men who kill themselves, it becomes most clearly manifest that it is not our mortal part that is killing itself, but something else, superior to this, and not dying along with it, since it is not bound to it as are all the mortal species, which, being bound as long as they are with bodies, perish along with them when they are dissolved; for it would never, not even in the smallest degree, have resisted or been in such a state if it were bound to it; but having its own essence, and existing in itself, when it thinks that the life with the mortal part is no longer of any advantage to it (whether rightly or not, it thinks this; for it makes no difference), it kills it, as if it were something else, an evil thing, and a companion not easily borne, and separates itself from it.

However, we believe that the mixture of the immortal and mortal within us was contrived by the harmony of the whole by the gods who are our creators, according to the decrees of Zeus, so that the two parts of this universe, the immortal and the mortal, were bound together by this human structure as a boundary. So that the whole might be complete and perfect, it had to consist of both immortal and mortal, so that it might not be divided from itself, nor be torn apart, but might consist entirely as one single system. For just as there are certain things within it which, being not slightly different from one another, have been joined together by certain boundaries among the things that are, so also the mortal was bound to the immortal by this boundary which is man. For if the mortal were always to coexist with its own immortal part, even it would turn out to be immortal, being rendered immortal by its constant association with the immortal, and man would no longer be the boundary of the immortal and mortal shares, as he is, but would have been entirely ranked with the immortals. Or, if the immortal, having once associated with the mortal, were to be separated from it for all the rest of time, the boundary of the immortal and mortal would have existed only once, not being always a boundary, nor always fitting the mortal to the immortals, but having joined them just once, and then, with the passing away of the mortal part itself, would also have dissolved this harmony. And so it was left that the mortal should participate in the immortal by turns, and by turns, when this is destroyed, to exist by itself, and to live separately; and this to proceed thus throughout the eternal and infinite time.

These doctrines have been held by the wise men, most notably those from Pythagoras and Plato. These [are taught] to the expositors of other nations, and indeed also to the [descendants] of our own ancestors who <...>

^A have preserved piety. These are the things of Zoroaster, and those who have descended from him. To whom we refer, in order that we might indeed [attribute] these dogmas to a man most ancient of those in memory, not as if they had originated from him, or that he was their author; for these things in nature are co-eternal with the whole heaven and among human beings, and they are the true dogmas, even if it is the case that sometimes they prevail among more, and sometimes among fewer, at least for those who are well and rightly stirred by the common conceptions placed in our souls by the gods. But [it is because] he is the most ancient explicator of these dogmas, which are named among us as the true ones, recorded as being more than five thousand years older than the time of the Heracleidae. For as to Minos, the lawgiver of the Egyptians, whom we also record as being more than three thousand years older than this man [Zoroaster], we shall not declare him to have been a wise or serious lawgiver. For he would never have legislated such curious and indeed base rites of the gods, unless he had also regarded the dogmas themselves basely. For if the dogmas possessed by his priests were similar to these of the Zoroastrians, but these [priests] claimed they were delivered by Minos himself, we would say [instead] that they had discovered them later, owing to their pursuit of wisdom; and that afterwards, they were not able to correct the rites by means of the law established for them by Minos—which, while excellent and providing salvation for those under good laws, was not for base men using laws which did not allow them to dare to stir or change the smallest [thing]—so that they continued to use serious dogmas, while the many performed base rites. While there have been other laws that were decent for others, and some of the dogmas of these Zoroastrians are not discordant with them—these, however, not reaching the same perfect accuracy in all things, among whom are those of the Indians and the western Iberians, being roughly contemporary with this Zoroaster—as for the Iberians, neither the lawgiver now named to us nor the laws themselves remain for them. But among the Indians, both the laws and many [things] still remain, and the lawgiver is named Dionysus, who, having conquered and ruled over the Indians, is said to have ordered the race with certain decent customs and laws. To this one the Dionysus born of Semele, having lived much later, would either be the same in soul, or one who had strongly emulated his life; both were most soldierly of men. And if one were to suppose [the same] about Heracles—both the one from Amphitryon and Alcmene, and the one who lived much older than this one, the Tyrian—both these men were also most soldierly. And that the cycles and lives and deeds occur similarly each time, and will always occur so; and that nothing had ever at any time happened as new, nor does it come to be, which has not also previously at some time happened in [its] pattern, and will simultaneously and again happen at some time. Since it is necessary, with no race being godless, but with different and varying opinions about the divine existing for different peoples, there being one and the same always which is the best, while others are baser, and of these, one is baser than another, ^B the best [being that] nearer [to the truth], while those [others are] farther—we hold to this one [which is] according to Zoroaster, to which the philosophy according to Pythagoras and Plato has also been brought together, excelling all other opinions in accuracy, and at the same time being ancestral to us. We deem it worthy to attend to this [philosophy] alone, in so far as it is possible for us to possess it, as the source of pure blessedness. And in the others, in as much as each falls short of this one, to that extent those who use them are deprived of blessedness and approach misery, and indeed the most miserable are those who use the opinions furthest from this one, as if, indeed, in terrible darkness, they were wallowing in ignorance regarding the greatest things.

^D But someone might say, as some of the sophists [do], whom great multitudes of men have followed, that they proclaim greater goods to those who are persuaded by them than those which we proclaim regarding the human race; if indeed they strive to claim that they will attain a certain pure immortality, no longer to be intermingled with any mortal [nature], whereas our arguments never cease from deeming our souls to be participating in mortal nature at each time, whenever the period for each should come. But first of all, those who are prudent do not deem it worthy to contribute to those who promise greater [things] rather than to those who are more trustworthy; therefore those who offer greater prospects are not to be preferred over the more trustworthy. For it would not be profitable to be seduced by greater hopes—which are empty and unachievable—and to tarry in certain falsehoods about the greatest things, and in unsound opinions. For this is indeed the worst of misfortunes: to have been deceived about the gods and about the greatest concepts for human beings, and to think things other than what one ought to think about them. Next, it is nothing surprising if the things we proclaim regarding the human race should seem even greater than the things promised by these sophists, upon one looking rightly. For, firstly, they do not deem the immortality to be whole nor perfect, neither for the whole heaven, nor for the human soul—not for both, but remaining for one or the other, the future, saying that eternity will exist for the generation of beings. For they make the heaven to have been begun by time, and they deem it worthy to be altered along with human affairs—in order that, at least, they might seem more persuasive to those to whom they proclaim these things—saying that human affairs do not [change] by themselves, but along with the whole; and also deeming it worthy that [human life] would appear base for some short time, but after that, they would deem that the works of the god would render them serious for an infinite [time]. For it is somehow more persuasive than if they said that they were base for an infinite time before, and then after that they would render them serious for an infinite time. But we, proclaiming the immortality for the human soul as perfect—and not half-finished or lame—we hold it to be a greater good. For it is clear indeed that this eternity for both is much greater and more beautiful, and that which is so [structured] is much more complete and more beautiful than that which is the other way. Perhaps, therefore, someone might suppose that the...

[...no longer existing, nor is it ever again in being to be tested; but the future, if it yet is not, nevertheless, because it is to be at some time, it would rather be better than that which is no longer, so that it might even be better; since one must let go of the desire for that which has passed away...] ^A regarding the future, as being all the more existing, one must try to grasp the whole—and the future, even if it is not yet, still, because it shall be at some time, would better be than that which is no longer; and so it would also be better; since one must let go of the desire for that which has passed away, in order to turn towards the future. Therefore, this eternity regarding both, which for the non-existent—namely, the future—is becoming greater, is not in truth either greater or better. But we... ^B

BY PLETHO: SUMMARY OF THE DOGMAS OF ZOROASTER AND PLATO

The most important heads that one who is to be truly prudent must know are these. First, that regarding the gods, as they exist. Zeus is one of them, the king, greatest, and as far as it was possible, best; standing over these all, and in divinity surpassing, being himself in every way absolutely ungenerated, and for all others the father and most ancient creator. His most ancient son, however—without a mother—is the second god, Poseidon, entrusted by the father with the second place in the hegemony over all things, and further with the generation and creation of this heaven, using gods and others as subordinates: his brothers, all those who are over-heavenly, both Olympian and Tartarean. He himself, already generating from Hera—the god who is the producer of matter—those within this heaven, both the celestial race of stars and that race of chthonic daemons which is already close to our own nature. He has also entrusted to Helios, the eldest of his own children, the hegemony over this heaven, and further the generation of the mortals within it—this, however, along with Cronus, the brother and leader of the gods who are Tartarean Titans. ^C [The Tartarean gods differ from the Olympian gods in that the Olympians are the producers and guardians of the immortals in this heaven, while the Tartarean gods are the guardians of the mortals here; so that Cronus is the leader of the Tartarean gods, and the same is also the chief of the Titans, and the guardian of the entire mortal species. Hera, placed among the Olympians second after Poseidon—who is the most ancient of matter, which is itself immortal—is, together with the same Poseidon, the producer and guardian of the works. Poseidon himself guards every kind of being, both immortal and mortal, standing as head over the whole, yet himself ordered together with the all; for the Zeus alone stands over the whole by the surpassing nature of his divinity and by his surpassing nature over the all.]

These gods provide for us, some of them touching us directly, others through their own subordinates, but all according to the ordinances of Zeus, who directs all things. Furthermore, that they are the most responsible for no evil—neither to any other of all things, nor to us—but they are the causes of all good. Add to these, that they bring all things to fulfillment according to the fate that proceeds from Zeus in an unturned and immovable manner, so far as it is best. And these things indeed are regarding the gods.

Regarding the all, firstly, that this whole, in which these second and third gods are, has come to be from Zeus, and is eternal, having neither begun in time nor ever destined to end. Next, that it is harmonized into one out of all the many things. Then, that it has been contrived with the best possible arrangement from the things present in the maker, ^D because he is in the highest degree the best, and has left no excess whatever [unrealized]. In addition to these again, that it is preserved always in the same established state, unmoved. So much, then, regarding the all.

Regarding ourselves, first, that our soul, being akin to the gods, remains immortal in this heaven for all time and is eternal. Next, that it is sent down to this mortal body by the gods from time to time—now to one, now to another—for the sake of the harmony of the all, so that by mortals and immortals joining together in us and in our species, the whole may be bound to itself. Then, that the good for us, according to our kinship with the gods, is the fitting end of life. And above all, that our happiness is determined by the gods who established our race, in that immortal part of us which is also the most authoritative of the substance of man.

These twelve heads in total, regarding the gods, and this all, and our nature, one must know and believe if one intends to be as prudent as possible, and to be truly prudent.

κρατίστῃ οὔσῃ τῇ κατὰ Ζωροάστρην ταύτῃ προστιθέμεθα, ᾗ καὶ ἡ κατά τε Πυθαγόραν καὶ Πλάτωνα συνενήνεκται φιλοσοφία, ἀκριβείᾳ τε τῶν ἄλλων ἀπασῶν πλεονεκτούσῃ δοξῶν, καὶ ἅμα πατρίῳ καὶ ἡμῖν οὔσῃ. Ἐν οὖν ταύτῃ μόνῃ τῇ ἀκραιφνούς τῆς μακαριότητος, ὁπέση ἡμῖν δυνατὴ ἐνεῖναι, ἐντυγχάνειν ἀξιοῦμεν.

OF GEORGE GEMISTUS PLETHO: ON BEHALF OF THE LATIN DOGMA, A BOOK

The book on behalf of the Latins that has reached us, clearly aims at defending their opinion, departing from the Father as the source of the procession. ^A Since those who composed the book hold this premise, and starting from this, they wish to conclude—and consequently, deeming the Son also worthy to be produced as an existence from the Spirit—and from there, adopting it as a principle, both to the Greek theology very friendly, and to the Church most hostile, as if the powers were different, and the substances themselves would be different—they think that even the Son, being produced from the existence of the Spirit, should share with the Father and with the procession of the Spirit, so that the producing power would not be unshared; and in this way the substance would differ. And these are thus. But we, by not placing the Son before the existence of the Spirit—as we believe that He should be counted as third, and by Christ Himself in the tradition of baptism, [the Spirit] is numbered with the Spirit—the most reasonable cause why the Spirit should be numbered as third, the Latins may wish to be silent—but we say that, since there are two processions of the Spirit derived from the principles of the Church, one being the cause of the Spirit’s own existence ^B and hypostasis, and the other being the procession of this same [Spirit] to us and to creation, which is secondary—of the Spirit from the Son and from the Father, which is found as a principle in the Church—it is necessary that the one who is sent should have a dignity worthy of the one who sends—because of this, also, the Spirit is ranked after the Son in number, even if not in nature. For that the processions of the Spirit are to be found from the principles of the Church, these themselves clearly point out by the voice of the Lord: "When the Comforter comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth that proceeds from the Father," lo, that is the procession of the hypostasis. But the Latins, wishing to be silent about this procession towards us which is the sending—so as not to be seen as [contradicting] the voices of the Fathers, but [claiming] they are the same—supposing it [to be the same as] the procession from the Son, and taking this sending towards us [as the only one], they are at a loss for our undeniable testimonies—not being able to destroy this [truth] of the Church, ^C they diminish it, calling it temporal and created, and to the Son of God, not co-eternal. "But" they say, "they do not grant the producing power to be co-eternal with Him; nor do they deem the Son’s power for sending to creation to be co-eternal with Him." If they say that, they would not deny, even for those who say it, that the Son has the power of producing towards creation naturally in Himself; and [that] such power is brought forth from Him, so that there is some order in the Trinity, as is the case for those who number, where there is order, it is good.

This, then, may stand thus. But the principle, "if the powers are different, the substances would also be different," how is it not most hostile to the Church, as has been said by us previously? For the Greek theology ^D divides the one highest substance, and [says it is] one and indivisible, and then bestows it upon those that are many, subordinate to others, and others again to others, as greater or lesser of the whole part, nevertheless deems none of them similar to the Father, or even comparable. For it makes all [others] of a different substance, and indeed far subordinate, and of the Godhead likewise. Therefore, along with calling the works of God gods, it does not distinguish a generating, creative, or willing power of nature to be the cause of the Godhead, or [anything] at all to be said about it, ^D nor of the substance acting. It makes those of the highest Godhead and substance subordinate, the Greek theology does, pinning no one else to that dignity, as if they were different powers, and the substances themselves would be different, judging the greatest difference of powers of the same self [God] to another. But the Church is clearly not admitting this dignity. For it would not declare the Son to be equal to the Father, if it did not admit this dignity, which it does not. For if the Father of the Son is of a different power, and He is the same, [He] cannot be [the same] and [at the same time] is, and is no longer: he is the same. But the Father is—furthermore, if one is generative, and the other is equal, and the other is not generated, nor equal in being generated—that they would not even be of the same substance, if the powers are different, and the substances themselves would be different; but the Latins wish to prove this through the principles of the Church, by their own haste and... [alt-version omitted]

^A confusion, that [the Spirit] is from the Father and from the Son at the same time; and they run the risk that God, in place of a Trinity, will appear as a Quaternity if one examines this [thesis] of the Spirit. For such an opinion of the Latins is incompatible with the Church. For the Spirit is not something simple to them; if both the Father and the Son produce Him, and if they produce Him by a single production, there will be a mixing together of the persons; and God will be a Quatternity instead of a Trinity. But if they produce Him according to the common [essence] of the substance, they themselves claim that the Spirit will fall into a different essence for them. The one of these points looks toward Sabellianism, the other toward Macedonianism; that these things are not unclear is evident. And as regards these matters, the Latins are indeed deniers, but they do not refrain from admitting their own [conclusions], nor from the opinion that the Spirit proceeds from the Son, though they suffer something similar to those who, if they were to say five plus five is twelve, would be deniers that it is ten, or three times four is twelve. For in reductions to the absurd, he who does not concede to the absurd, when the hypothesis from which the absurdity follows is also posited, is ^B contained by the one, but clearly concedes to the absurd while simultaneously not conceding to the same thing, and what kind of absurd person is he who is self-contradictory?

But these matters go this far. How is it not also absurd, that which is in their book, to claim that the Father imparts the generative power to the Son in begetting, and the productive power in turn to the Spirit in producing, neither begetting the Son as generative, but only as begotten, nor producing the Spirit as productive, but only as produced? For it would have escaped them that there is a great difference between "generative" and "begotten," and between "productive" and "produced," unless they were purposely intending to deceive us.

Further, how is it not ignorant of them to accuse our people of deleting, or falsifying, or denying, or badly interpreting the words of the saints, when they themselves are rather guilty of such things, when they invalidate John of Damascus, and pass judgment with arrogance upon Dionysius the Areopagite—who promised to speak concerning the united and distinguished theology, as to how the divine persons themselves are united and distinguished—but then [claim] that he did not mention such a distinction of the Son and the Spirit? And they do not even understand Justin the Martyr, and Gregory the Theologian, when one says, "As the Son is from the Father, so is the Spirit from the Father, except that ^C this one is by generation, while the Spirit is by procession;" and the other, "All that the Father has is the Son’s, except for the cause; all that the Son has is the Spirit’s, except for the birth." And they do not turn toward Cyril’s censure regarding this matter against Theodoret, who did not oppose it, nor did they accuse him in return of blasphemy, but said that he was being slandered, and that he was clearly denying the accusation. In short, it is much easier for our people to [refute] those who...

making the Church fathers seem in agreement with one another, or with the Latins; this is done ^A on the one hand by the homonymy of the "procession" and the twofold nature of the Spirit’s causes, and on the other hand by the homonymy of the Spirit itself, called both the Spirit and the grace of the Spirit; and of the Holy Spirit, as is plain from this: "He who believes in me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." This he said concerning the Spirit, which they who believe in him were to receive, for as yet the Holy Spirit was not, because Jesus was not yet glorified. For if one supposes this to refer to the very hypostasis of the Holy Spirit, he will be in danger of saying that the Spirit proceeds not only from the Son, but also from the belly of the believers.

But I do not fear this, lest the Latins might appear superior to ours in the arguments concerning this disputed matter; for they have not appeared so even until now, although they have labored much in the sophisms on behalf of this. For even in Italy, when our people agreed with them, it was not by arguments that they were defeated and agreed, but we know the manner in which they agreed; and for this reason it is not without cause that most of those who agreed at that time did not even abide by what they agreed to. But I do fear for those of our own who think that, even if our ancestral traditions are more pious, nevertheless the Latin ones are to be chosen before them because they seem to be of some advantage to our affairs. Perhaps someone might even hold this view, so as to despise both equally; but he who neglects to seek what is best in such matters and attends only to what seems to be of advantage to affairs, considers he must make his choice accordingly. I, for my part, say that that which seems advantageous to us does not always prove advantageous in the end; but there are times when it becomes the primary cause of ruin. Nevertheless, this argument of mine, that it seems better to choose ^B that which is conducive to affairs, should not be judged by such people to mean that one should not consider that God provides for human affairs. And even otherwise, one might know that most of our people suffer from this opinion, because never, although our affairs have long been faring badly, have they proposed any plan as to how we might correct our errors and propitiate God, whether in our opinions or in our deeds. Wherefore it is not even worthy of wonder if God, having let us waste away for a very long time, has reduced us to such a small number, while magnifying those who are against us. For it is clear that many of those people possess the belief that God provides for human affairs much more firmly in their souls than ours do. Therefore, no other piety equal to this could be wrongly substituted for that ^C impiety, nor could any other piety be rightly set forward for us in its place. For the dogma is not about matters of little value, but concerns the question of whether we are to subject God to our own governance, or to exclude Him. Thus it is not unreasonable that He should let those who exclude Him from their own governance waste away, not greatly assisting them in being saved. One might find that of the generations of all time within memory, those which have prospered have done so along with the belief in divine providence, while those which have perished have done so due to the abandonment of this belief. A manifest proof of this is that those who swear oaths prosper, while those who begin to neglect their oaths waste away. Thus there is no hope for us to be saved unless, if we have erred regarding God in any great matter—either in one thing, or in many, whether in opinions or in deeds—we correct ourselves. But as long as we remain as we are, we would not be saved, whether we agree with the Latins or with any other men whatsoever. But may God grant that we choose the best course, not only regarding this matter, but also regarding our affairs as a whole.

THE OBJECTIONS OF GEORGE GEMISTUS PLETHO AGAINST THE DEFENSES OF GEORGE SCHOLARIUS IN BEHALF OF ARISTOTLE

(Ex codice Rhedigerano edidit D' W. Gass, in *Gennadius und Pletho*, Wratislavia 1844, præmissa doctissima Præfatione sermone vernaculo Germano scripta).

"Since [a] the book of blasphemies against Aristotle has come to us late." — I, for one, did not receive it late, as you say, but I sent it immediately when it was first asked for; but you, indeed, this your...

composition, having written it long ago and often being requested to send it, did not send it for a time; but finally, when you were weary of being mocked for not sending it, you did not even then send it, but you lied by saying you had sent it; for among your other evils, falsehood is to you most ready. And now these fine writings have come to us, not because you sent them, but because some people stole them, having recognized the sharpness of their own wits. And they have not come complete, but even ^A what has arrived is sufficient to reveal your ignorance and the unsoundness of your mind. And yet, if you were confident, why did you write things by which you were going to incur laughter among those who have sense? And why did you lie about having sent them when you had not, and that, too, to people whom you least ought to have lied to, not even ashamed that you would immediately and easily be caught in your lying?

"Some, having listened more fairly to both, have joined both philosophers in their opinions, and say that the dispute regarding Plato that appears in Aristotle is only a matter of terminology." ^B Simplicius alone does this, and it is clear that he does it against the Church. For, addressing himself to those of the Church who reproach the Greek philosophers for their disagreement with one another, he says that they themselves have been split into a myriad of ways regarding the divine excellence (for this is what he says in his expression), but that the Greeks converge on the same thing. And he attempts, indeed, to declare Aristotle in harmony with Plato and Parmenides, saying nothing whatever that is persuasive, while all that others among the ancients have written against Aristotle—and notably Plotinus, a man much better than Simplicius—he has written against others and against the Categories, as Proclus did against others and especially concerning his own theology; yet you call this effort of Simplicius against the Church "fair-mindedness," even though Simplicius has actually done the most against you, who yourself have often split with yourself.

"But those currently defeated by Plato in Italy, to whom you say you are gratifying by taking such a matter into your mind, we know who they are; and many have seen them living with the man there, who possess as much philosophy as Plethon possesses dancing skill." ^C And these men, too, ought to have enjoyed your envy toward us, for they are much wiser than you in all wisdom and sharper in mind; for you, in addition to your malice, are dull in mind, as you appear to be from this writing of yours.

And when did you, or which of the wise men in the West, encounter him? All who reside there among us and were present know that he always fled the gatherings of those called wise men there, for it is clear why: so that he might not be proven to be much worse than he wishes to appear. Therefore, you either have not encountered any of them, or if you have encountered some, you could not have been a competent judge of their wisdom; we, however, both encountered them and have learned what their wisdom is like. For they are much better than you, even if they fall short of exactness in wisdom; but the nobler of them are themselves also those who have condemned the wisdom that is among them. For instance, Peter the Calabrian, who is skilled in both languages and is at the same time no incompetent judge of such things, told me that the commentators among them on Aristotle fall far short of the commentators among the Greeks regarding the understanding of Aristotle's mind. So, too, did Hugone, a man who is again among the wisest of those there, when he proposed an interpretation of a certain passage to us (the passage was from Aristotle's book *On Generation and Corruption*), and saying that he was not satisfied with the interpretation—for there was nothing sound in it—when he heard the sound one from us, he accepted it and condemned the one among them even much more. How, then, would those who do not sufficiently understand Aristotle, and who are completely inexperienced in Plato and the words of Plato—except for what they hear about Aristotle from those who are corrupting and slandering his doctrines—be just judges of these two men? ^D For in truth, you appear to be asserting your vote before hearing the story from both sides, since even there, those who have tasted Plato value this man much more than Aristotle. You also say that we are slandering Averroes in the discussion on the human soul; for it is permitted to hear from Latins and Jews alike that all say Averroes supposed the human intellect not to be corruptible. And we, my good sir, have learned from the wiser Italians and some of the Jews about Averroes' account of the human soul, and we know what they say and how they say it—not as you appear to be, knowing nothing of those things.

^A He says: You have either heard from certain ignorant people, or you have not understood yourself what you have heard. For this speech [of Averroes] has a certain depth of thought, so that it would not be easy for the somewhat obtuse to understand it. But you, however, even set forth Aristotle to the Church more than Plato, suffering exactly the same thing as those who, in the greatest distress, take refuge in sacred things. And you, out of distress, take refuge in the Church as though your arguments possessed some strength. And that both Plato and Aristotle are alien to the Church, you yourself would not have said otherwise; but as to why you present Aristotle to the Church more than Plato, you demonstrate nothing worthy of argument. And I forbear to say that, in declaring Plato to be in accord with the Church in more and greater matters, you are falling into a state of sheer folly regarding your own discourse. Yet Cyril, one of the most distinguished of the Church's shepherds, wishing to declare the Church to be in some way in harmony with Greek philosophy, does not choose Aristotle, but rather Plato and the philosophy of Plato. And we know of another [opponent] similar to you, who mocks Aristotle’s minute discourse concerning providence. But you, it seems to me, insult the Church by presenting Aristotle’s minute discourse concerning providence as if it possessed more of the splendor of Plato concerning such matters. I know that, even if you do not admit it, you think, in your arrogance, that you are a better judge of such things than those men; but we are far from granting you this.

«So if it were not for Aristotle, the human race would not have partaken of natural philosophy.»

We do not censure Aristotle for having written, but we even encourage reading his books for the sake of what is useful in them, knowing, however, that many unworthy things are mixed into them, in the same way that Plutarch encourages us to listen to poems. For one is not required to venerate the errors in what he wrote simply because he wrote at all; but since we have Plato as a guide, a man far more divine than he, and at the same time do not deem ourselves unworthy to hold Aristotle to account for the things he wrote poorly, we rightly hold him to account. That, however, escapes you, among many other things: that Plato did not refrain from writing because he did not know the sciences, but it was the opinion of Plato, and of the Pythagoreans before him, not to write such things, but to hand them down to his companions by word of mouth, as those who would be wiser, possessing the sciences in their souls and not in books; for he neglected those who think they possess the sciences in books, to the detriment of the constant state in the soul. If that had been constant, it would have been better; but since the chances and misfortunes of time create many and great interruptions at times in our activity according to wisdom, writing is useful as a reminder for those who do not constantly practice the sciences. Plato does indeed provide notes—of first principles only, and of logic and nature—having cut off his own wisdom, but rather that which came down to him through the Pythagoreans from Zoroaster. For they record that Pythagoras, having associated with the Magi in Asia who were among the followers of Zoroaster, adopted this ^B philosophy, and they record that Zoroaster lived five thousand years before the Trojan war. Even if this is not credible to you, he would still be the most ancient of those generally called wise men and legislators, except for Menes the Egyptian, that wise lawgiver. The priests of the Egyptians especially accepted the doctrines of this Zoroaster and were esteemed on account of these doctrines, since they had previously remained in the worthless purifications of Menes, on account of which they were even laughed at. As Plato followed this philosophy, the oracles of Zoroaster, still preserved even to our own time, show them to be in harmony in every way with the opinions of Plato. Plato, therefore, in his dialogues, handed down only the first principles and the philosophy, and left the rest, the most necessary and concerning the greatest matters, for his companions to take up from those principles and from what they had heard from him. But Aristotle, having been a student of Plato, and afterward having adopted a sophistic style under the guise of philosophy, and having fallen in love with empty glory so as to become the founder of his own sect, overturned and destroyed the principles of the philosophy written by Plato, which had come down to him over many, many years. Whatever he heard from Plato by word of mouth, he himself wrote down, and in that, too, he erred frequently. By busying himself with things far removed from the principles, and with a multitude of writings beyond what was necessary—having discovered this thirteenth sophistic method—he sought to astonish the more foolish with the quantity of his writings. For wisdom resides in a few things and concerns few; for it concerns the principles of being, which if someone has taken hold of rightly, he would be capable of judging well everything else that is possible for humans to know. Aristotle has indeed been refuted by many others for the things in which he errs; and he has already been refuted by us, not on all points, but especially on the greatest ones. And since you have presumed to defend him, we shall continue to protect Plato and ourselves as well, caring nothing for the threats that you have used to frighten us—that you will not spare the slanders against us—since you have spared us nothing at all; for we do not know you to be a Gorgon, but a Mormo capable of frightening little children, not men who are ^C above such slanders. For we would indeed be worthy of being ill-spoken of if we were to make any discourse of slanders from such a man, who is not even ashamed to boast greatly over the gain of a mere woman and a small boy at that. We shall say what we shall say, not to match the whole length of your words (for it would be foolish to stretch out another length of words in opposition to an empty length of words), but for our part, when it is opportune to say something, it shall be said—either where you may seem to some who are not entirely wise to be saying something, or where you have wandered far from the truth, provided that when you are refuted you yield something. ^D

^A of pride. As for the rest, we shall leave those who mock to be mocked by others—those among them who do not touch upon the empty boasts you make on your own behalf, nor upon the blasphemies directed at us.

"Although it is appropriate to say that the lack of clarity in Aristotle is fitting for a wise man, while that of Plato is rather something garbed in poetic—not to say worse—practice."

And how is a lack of clarity in language fitting for a wise man? Is it not rather fitting for a slave who has not yet clearly grasped the Greek tongue, or for a sophist who is not entirely confident regarding what he is saying and veils himself in the lack of clarity of his own language, or for an envious man who sets up something for his readers to drink, so that they might perhaps be bewildered while he unfolds their meaning? But how is it fitting for a wise man, when it is necessary for the sake of philanthropy to set forth the depth of thoughts in language as clear as possible, so that they may be easily grasped? For the mythical approach might have some rationale. For if myths were not stuffed with the nonsense of poets, they provide common people—who are unable to attain to the depth of thoughts—with something readily understandable, which Plato also practiced before other theologians out of philanthropy. For he gave to all people, who are lovers of myths, instead of the nonsense of poetic myths, other holy myths to give them something to think about, and in these, he did not entirely distance himself from divine things, so that both the wise and the many might derive some benefit from him. But from a lack of clarity in language, the wise will have to take on labor—in places where it was possible to understand with less effort—while the many will not benefit in the slightest.

But Aristotle is not unclear in the places where he is most exposed by us, unless you have found a windfall in the ignorance of those who follow you, and—having found a place to use a lack of clarity in Aristotle's language—you force his clearest points into a state of obscurity, so that by transferring what we have refuted to a different meaning, you might appear to defend him in something. But you will be refuted by us nonetheless, as saying things that are inconsistent, discordant, and far from the meaning of Aristotle.

That he sets himself up as an end of motion, Plethon says truly; but he does not demonstrate that [this is the end] of motion alone, and that it is not of existence and substance.

It is not necessary to demonstrate everything, both those things which are clear to all or at least to the wise—and to the unlearned who follow you—unless one is about to fall into an interminable discussion. ^B For instance, that which you say we do not demonstrate—that Aristotle sets forth that only the heaven is moved by God—is perhaps not clear to you, seeing that you would not even be able to reach the mind of a sophist; but to those who are in any way wise and at the same time experienced in Aristotle, how is it not clear? For when Aristotle deems that there are as many gods as there are motions of the spheres in the heavens, what else does he mean but that while all other things do not require a God, these spheres alone do, and these only for the sake of being moved? For if he had thought that there was anything else, that it possessed the power of always being, not the power of *not* always being, etc. ^C to posit gods equal in number to the motions? And how is such a thing not clear from that fact? For when he demonstrates an eternal motion from the mover and the cause, he demonstrates it above all else, deeming the first mover to be immobile and to move [others] always; and he does this in a very scientific manner. For where there is a cause and a caused thing, it is necessary to demonstrate what results for the caused thing from the opposite, if indeed the demonstration by science is to proceed. Yet in demonstrating the eternity of the heaven, he no longer mentions a cause or anything of the sort, although he ought—if he thought there was some cause of the substance of the heaven—to demonstrate its eternity from the cause.

But how does he demonstrate it? He says that everything generated and corruptible, and that which is corruptible in turn is generated; and everything that is incorruptible and ungenerated, is also ungenerated and incorruptible. For he says it is necessary that everything, if it has the power to always be, must not have the power of not always being, nor can it have [a power] of not always being. Hence, by granting the heaven the power of always being, he concludes that it is at once ungenerated and incorruptible; he does this well and consistently with his own opinion, if indeed he believes that the heaven was produced from no creator at all, since if he had believed [in a creator], he would not have failed to achieve anything. For if the heaven has possessed the power of always being as its own, only in this way does it necessarily follow for it to be at once ungenerated and incorruptible, which we would attribute to the primary and sole cause. But if it has received the power of existing at all from a creator as something alien, then one who demonstrates in this way achieves nothing, unless some necessity of creating eternal things is added to the cause, just as he attached the necessity of always moving. For it is surely clear that however the giver gives existence to the heaven, so also it will have it. But from these, and a few other things, it is very clear that Aristotle is thinking that God is the cause not of the substance and existence of the heaven, but of its motion alone. And the reason he thought so has been stated by us as well as possible; for he was compelled to think as he did because he considered the heaven to be eternal, and did not deem that any of the eternal substances had any generation, whether temporal or by way of a cause. ^D

In this argument, by hinting that we Christians have already taken this opinion from Moses, he also declares Aristotle to be in agreement with the Christian faith, as we asserted in the introduction.

If you introduce yourself into the Arian church, I say this to you as well as to them; for they were the ones who tried to defend their own opinion with this axiom of Aristotle. But if you still adhere to the present Church and to us at least, I do not say that I am speaking of you when I speak of "some." How could I, when I consider this axiom to be most alien to the Church?

^A For if it were granted once and for all that everything that has existence from a cause must also have a beginning in time, then neither the Son nor the Spirit, being from the cause of the Father, could escape the conclusion that they too have a beginning in time. But if you consider this axiom to be your own and that of the Church, you seem, along with your other ignorance, to be a poor judge of what axioms pertain to the Church and which do not. Furthermore, even if this axiom were indeed applicable to the Church, what does it avail you to force this axiom upon the Church in the case of Aristotle, as you asserted in your introduction, seeing that you yourself consider it unworthy of Aristotle? For it seems to me that this only proves that you are insensible to the fact that you are overturning yourself. ^B He who is said to slander enthusiasms and revelations and to call them error, while demonstrating in another of his own writings that truth is discovered by human reason alone through philosophy. I, too, know of enthusiasms which ought not to be accepted; but you, it seems, know nothing save how to slander and blaspheme. That Plato said nothing clear about the immortality of the world is stated even by Aristotle in his Topics, where he enumerates the problems concerning which no arguments had yet been discovered by those before him, even if they were great men, and he includes among them the fact that the world is eternal (1). ^C Nor was Aristotle unaware that the Pythagoreans, and Plato himself, held the universe to be eternal; for he would not have failed to encounter the writings of Timaeus the Locrian, himself a Pythagorean, in which it is said: "Before the heaven was generated by reason, there existed Idea and matter"—meaning by reasoning, and not in fact, the non-existence of the heaven at any time; nor could he, having frequented such circles, have been ignorant of such a doctrine, which indeed he does not appear to have passed over in silence in his own dialogues. At any rate, in the Timaeus he declares the soul to have been generated by God, while in the Phaedrus he declares it to be ungenerated and immortal, a point we also noted in our previous document; and you, with malice, have extracted it from your own translation, as you have done with other matters, so that these arguments might have some room. For you translated our words maliciously, so that by transforming some things into a weaker form and removing the most vital parts, you might appear to be attacking the arguments less feebly. Since you have not attained even a trace of the wisdom of Aristotle, if indeed any and of what kind it is were his, you are truly a very gifted student of malice. Plato, therefore, as one who knows how to distinguish between what is generated by a cause alone and what is generated in time, is clearly seen in the Timaeus in his comparison with the cause, saying the soul is generated by a cause, while in the Phaedrus, in turn, in his comparison with the immortal, he declares the same soul to be ungenerated in time. ^D He would not be justified in blaming Plato, who was an Athenian and, at the same time, exceeded all Greeks in precision of language, while the Stagirite himself, in the precision of the Greek tongue, falls not a little short of Plato. But if he is blamed justly for his thoughts, we must examine this. Let us grant that Aristotle, hearing Plato say the heaven was generated by God, was both deceived and thought that he meant it was generated in time; surely, if Aristotle himself knew how to distinguish between what is generated by a cause alone and what is generated in time, and at the same time believed that the heaven had been created by God, he should have challenged Plato in this way: "Plato, you speak well when you say that the heaven was created by God; but since you also claim that it came into being in time, not having existed before, this no longer seems to you well spoken." But he did nothing of the sort. Regarding whether or not the heaven was created by God, he does not even dare to speak; for he did not dare to contradict that opinion openly, lest he incur a charge of impiety—for among the Greeks, this opinion was widely held, as "all things are wrought from Zeus" (2)—but he did not agree with it, nor did he hold it. Having pretended to be ignorant that Plato held the heaven to be both eternal and ungenerated, he blames him as if he did not think it eternal, believing that through his positing of its eternity, the fact that it was created by God is destroyed, as if there were no generation of eternal things, while at the same time intending to appropriate to himself this dogma regarding the eternity of the world, which possesses a certain haughtiness. Thus he is so impudent and contentious that, while acknowledging that Plato and his followers say that the heaven is both generated by God and eternal, he nevertheless forces them to declare that they do not say it is eternal, shamelessly stripping the dogma from the ancients by every possible means. That Plato considers the heaven to be eternal is also clear from the following: "Time, therefore, came into being with the heaven, so that, having been generated together, they might also be dissolved together, should any dissolution of them ever occur, and according to the pattern of the eternal nature, so that it might be as similar to it as possible in power; for the pattern is that which exists through all eternity, while it, in turn, continues throughout all time, having been, being, and being about to be." And Plato proves the eternity of the universe much better and more piously than Aristotle, as one can also see from that passage: "Let us say, then, for what cause he who arranged this whole generated it; he was good, and in the good no envy ever arises concerning anything; being free from this, he willed that all things should be as similar to himself as possible; it is clear, then, that they are also eternal." But Aristotle, both from his other works and not least from the manner in which he approaches Plato and those around Plato regarding the heaven generated by God...

he is clearly one who does not think it has been created by God. For if he thought so, he would not have mentioned it here, in order to be clear that in this he is partly conceding to Plato, and partly arguing against him, not arguing against the whole.

* For Aristotle is of this opinion, as has been said, saying that it is reasonable to assume as many immovable substances as there are movements of the spheres in the heaven, but let it be left to the more powerful to speak of what is necessary, considering some higher necessity than the reasonable one derived from what is apparent—namely, the sacred and revealed one. ^A Aristotle here calls the more "powerful" those who are more astronomical; for since he himself asserted that there must be as many immovable substances as there are movements of the spheres in the heavens, in order that there might also be a cause for one, he clearly knows nothing sound about them at all. Nevertheless, he puts forward a certain number, as many as he himself thinks reasonable to assume regarding the number of these movements, since he is not very confident in his own hypothesis. "As many," he says, "as the immovable substances are, it is reasonable to assume, from what has hitherto seemed to us a reasonable number of the movements of the spheres; but let it be left to the more powerful to speak of what is necessary," calling his own [colleagues] more astronomical, as though it were necessary to think that there are as many of these gods as those men affirm there are movements of the spheres in the heavens. This, then, is Aristotle's intent in this passage; but you, from what you have used in this passage here, hardly seem to understand whatever it is that Aristotle is saying.

* Furthermore, in the third book of *On Motion*, he says almost the same things. For he says regarding Democritus, "He does not deign to seek a first principle for that which is eternal, saying that for some things he is right, but for all things he is not right. For the triangle does have its angles equal to two right angles, but nevertheless there is another cause for this eternal fact; of the first principles, however, there is no other cause for those which are eternal." ^{B C} You seem, then, not to understand what we are saying, nor Aristotle. For whereas we say that Aristotle does not deign that there be a generation or any cause whatsoever for the eternal substances for their existence—not for their attributes nor their dispositions—you, in arguing against us, propose to us a passage of Aristotle which says nothing other than exactly the same things as we do, and you do not realize that you are joining with us instead of arguing against us. For see, "For of the eternal," Aristotle says, "he does not deign to seek a first principle, Democritus, saying that for some things he is right, but for all things he is ^D not right. For the triangle does have its angles equal to two right angles; but nevertheless there is some other cause for this eternal fact; of the first principles, however, there is no other cause for those which are eternal." Therefore, the triangle’s having angles equal to two right angles is an attribute of the triangle and a certain disposition of it, not a cause existing in itself, such as the heaven is, or if one should claim any number whatsoever of causes for the movements of the spheres, he posits them as the immovable substances of those things that are eternal for him. He would then posit [as] the cause of the light of the moon, which is also eternal for him, the sun, but nevertheless none of these is a substance. And what could the first principles be for him, for which there is no other cause? And what other could they be than all the eternal substances for him, among which is the one of the heaven, as has been demonstrated to us from other things, and it becomes clear not least from the passage of Aristotle which I am setting before you after this, in which he says: "For these are indeed the immovable substances, causes to the manifest of the divine." He does not say "causes of the manifest of the divine," so that he would be claiming them to be causes of the substances themselves, but "to the manifest of the divine." It is not the same thing to say the "cause of me" and the "cause for me"; for the "cause of me" is of my substance, while the "cause for me" is a cause of an attribute for me, not of my substance; but you do not even understand the terminology of Aristotle. It is clear, therefore, that all the eternal substances for Aristotle are those of which he says there is no other cause. But so that we might concede this to you for the sake of the argument, let them be only the immovable and separate ones; are there not then, according to Aristotle, more things that are "in themselves" (di' auta) and that do not proceed from one and the same first principle, but all things that are? Where, then, is this wisdom of Aristotle, or rather, as I would say, ignorance, worthy to be compared with the theology of Plato? Since Plato, from one God, who is transcendent and not to be numbered with the other gods, produces both the other gods and all beings that are; whereas Aristotle sets over the beings that are more [first] principles which are "in themselves." Why then, O man, do you mock yourself? Why do you pointlessly make long speeches, contending to put Aristotle above Plato, or even generally to compare the one who is so lacking in wisdom? For true wisdom consists not in knowing how to order questions to deceive the person one is debating with, or similar things—which is what Aristotle is praised for by some—but in the first and greatest things of beings, regarding which he himself appears so benighted. And he seems to all the wise to be like a bat, sharp-sighted in the dark regarding small and base things, but regarding the great and manifest things, like the same creature in the light, quite dim-sighted.

* Furthermore, in the first book of *On the Heavens*, "For all," he says, "assign the highest place to the divine, both Greeks and barbarians, as many as believe there to be gods; it is clear that with the immortal the immortal is joined; for it is impossible otherwise." And what else could "being joined" be, if not being attached and directly [so], that is, from that one, to have its existence and life directly and eternally? And from this passage it appears that Aristotle does not think the higher gods are the causes of immortality for the heaven; for not, as he says in the passage I am setting before you after this, of the heaven and for the others [he removes?]

does he mean the immortal to be dependent on the immortal, but rather he says the immortal is connected to the immortal, being very clear that in the former case he wishes to indicate the cause by the term "dependent," as in the heaven being the cause of the generation of mortal things, but here by "connected," he indicates not a cause, but merely a participation of immortality by the heaven towards the gods above it. But as for how much "connected" differs from "dependent," do you not understand? For never would you set forth these two passages together if you did, from which, instead of refuting me, ^A you are rather refuting yourself.

Further, if he declares God to be the first principle of beings, it is clear that he also considers Him to be the maker of the heaven. When Aristotle deems it right to call the greatest thing his God, we do not need to ask you, but Aristotle himself, who nowhere likens this God to an architect of a house, or to a general commanding an army. This principle might be such as the Assyrian, or Median, or Persian, or some other similar power in the world, whether greater or lesser, of which none would be the cause of the substance of those they rule, but only of laws and order.

To me it seems that the notion that the intellect exists somewhere else beforehand, and arrives by itself, and then is joined to this body, is in no way the opinion of Aristotle, who posits the rational soul as the entelechy of the human body, and clearly says that the intellect comes from this substance, and he determines everywhere that the entelechy is later in time than the capacity.

Regarding this, we previously reproached Aristotle, since you do not understand how we find fault with Aristotle in that matter; nor is there need of many words to you, but only to say thus much, both that we do reproach him and that we reproach him justly. For we reproach Aristotle for saying that every intellect is in substance act, and not adding the divine, or that which is beyond the human, and for that reason also necessarily including the human in his argument; not that he actually thinks so—for we would think Aristotle very foolish if we supposed he meant that—but as having spoken poorly and inconsiderately. For Plato does not deem it right to call the rational soul "intellect" at all, but rather "soul," while intellect is the Ideas, and the irrational part is the phantom of the soul, according to the followers of Plato; whereas this Aristotle is the one who most of all calls the rational part of the human soul "intellect" everywhere. And for this reason, we say, he ought not to have said so indiscriminately that every intellect is in substance act. And as to how we reproach him justly, is it not clear? For he is so arrogant as to make his own method of discourse a discovery, so that if anyone produces anything beyond this method which he claims to be his own, against every— ^B—this neglecting many of your ignorances in this subject as well. Regarding what follows this, we hold you accountable for ignorance, and that most justly, for attributing to Aristotle opinions that in no way belong to him. Or does he not recall that Aristotle deems all that is generated and corruptible to be such, and all that is incorruptible to be ungenerated? And indeed, you have already mentioned this in your own writing in the above-mentioned arguments. You also admit yourself that Aristotle considers the human intellect to be immortal; how, then, are you not senseless regarding the consequence, that if the human intellect is immortal, it must also be ungenerated according to Aristotle, and not joined to this body? But you say that it is your opinion—not Aristotle's—that the intellect exists before this body, even though he clearly states that it is prior to it, but is joined to this body, whether at that time when the God-given—when some have intercourse and He Himself is the creator—or later, when something from the human seed is completed into an intellect. And if you had never recalled that claim of Aristotle, one would not perhaps think you were erring in such a way, as if you had perhaps never encountered this claim; but now, when you even mention it in this writing of yours, what remains except that through ignorance you attribute such opinions to Aristotle, which do not pertain to others of his teachings? Are we not justly saying that your intellect is dull? I would not wonder about that concerning you, even if, due to mental sloth, you have not yet perceived that for anyone who posits the world as eternal, and at the same time the human soul as immortal, it is necessary to concede not only that it is ungenerated in time, but also to admit its many descents into these mortal bodies, whether they are reasonable or not. For otherwise, it would result that in an eternal world, with infinite human generations occurring, if one assigns an individual soul to each of them, an infinite number of souls would exist; and for there to be an infinite number—not only potentially, but actually—nature does not endure, and Aristotle himself proves it to be impossible in his ^C Physics. And he proves it well, except that due to brevity, not at all clearly. I think that Aristotle himself, perceiving this, is at a loss and does not know what use to make of this argument about the immortality of the human soul; at any rate, everywhere and nowhere does he grasp it firmly or assert it. Plato, however, is much better than Aristotle even in this, not only because he appears to hold by such an argument firmly, while the other does so hesitantly everywhere, but because he follows through consistently with this argument throughout everything, which is much more becoming of a wise man, if you—

^A choose to use the argument, and in the discourses on courage especially it would have been necessary, yet he did not even use it there, but rather said this: "For death is most fearful, for it is the end, and it seems to the deceased that there is no longer either [any good] or any evil (1)." By having said this much and not immediately correcting it with an argument concerning the immortality of the human soul, he would reasonably seem not only to others, but even outside of his own opinion to have said it. The reason is that Aristotle advances this argument with hesitation; and he is perhaps ashamed to deny that the human soul is immortal, for fear that he might unnoticed equate himself with the beasts, but on the other hand he does not dare to firmly set it as an opinion, so as to assert anything else from it because of the dim-sightedness of his intellect regarding such matters. And for this reason, swaying now to one side and now to the other, if ever he ^B does anything else, he is no less indecorous in these matters as well. It is just to consider these things regarding human souls to be Aristotle's, and neither worse nor better than what we say; since even what he says, that some good or conversely some evil reaches the departed therefrom, but that it is a faint and small thing (2), he says this, too, in a base manner. For he conjectures it to be like that [which happens] to one who is living but is not aware of it—this is when someone, not present where he is being praised, does not know, or is unaware that his own child is faring well in a foreign land, or something else of that sort; so that he appears not to posit that there is any perception for those who have died of things here—whether it be due to non-existence, or because of some other disposition of theirs, he does not make clear. For how is it possible that for one who sees friends faring well there, for his own sake and for the sake of his admonitions, or for one to whom God might grant to adorn ^C a city with good order and to save and increase it, or for one who has governed well and succeeded in these things, seeing from there the cities faring well on his behalf after God, and rejoicing in these as is probable, how is it faint and small? And indeed, the wise say that God contemplates nothing on earth more gladly than cities well-ordered. But leaving Plato’s discourse behind in many other respects, this ethics of Aristotle—by not making use of the immortality of our soul—is clearly shown to be deficient. For the human being here is not one person and the one there another, but one and the same; and it behoved one to hold the interest of the life there as the foundation, and at the same time to demonstrate such things to those being instructed. But you dare to prefer these Aristotelian discourses to the divinity of Plato’s concerning such matters, and you say that base men might be persuaded by the followers of Plato, but that the wise and those having sense would agree with those from the Peripatetic school. With what intellectual discernment, therefore, ^D do you presume to judge such things, with what [judgment]… whether it be good or the contrary, something faint and small, or simply to be those things, and if not, so much and of such a quality as not to make happy those who are not, nor to deprive those who are of blessedness.

^A regarding certain others; and those who ^A disregard each of these, either as one must or as one must not, or who are desirous toward both? And will not such men be in a certain extremity, some of neglecting much more than others, and when they ought to desire, neglecting, and when they ought to neglect, desiring, just as the thoroughly wicked are? And that there are some men—some more neglectful than others toward all things, and others more vehement in their desires, toward whatever they may be impelled—no one will deny; in the case of those who possess no firm account of the noble and the base, nothing prevents them from often changing toward the opposites, and being certain half-wicked men; and there are some cases where they desire, at the same time, both what they ought and what they ought not. Aristotle also errs in this, attributing two vices as opposite to each virtue, and inserting these half-wicked men as if they were opposites, when he ought to have assigned the thoroughly wicked as the opposites to the noble and good before them, so that he might preserve the axiom that there is one opposite for one thing. For, so to speak, Aristotle knows nothing of the things pertaining to the virtues and vices with precision, because he does not know how to define virtue and vice by the noble and the base. We, however, do not blame you for defining the actions according to virtue by what is "fitting" and "not fitting," yet we might justly say that he defines more imperfectly than those who define by the noble and the not noble. For the former provides no canon of what is fitting and what is not—at least not in the ^C Nicomachean Ethics, to which one must look to recognize the fitting and the not fitting in each case. But you say that it is not even possible to provide such a canon for this, understanding poorly regarding such matters; but those who do provide a canon of the fitting and the non-fitting by the noble and the not noble, claim that the good for us consists in following the Divine; for they hold that human nature is perfected in such a thing. Aristotle does indeed provide a canon of this "fitting," not in the Nicomachean, but in the Eudemian ^D Ethics, at least the more pious one, late and at the end of the book, in agreement in this respect with the wise, though no longer in agreement with himself. For to praise the fearing of earthquakes and thunderbolts—what kind of piety does it befit? For one must either consider such a thing to be evil, or not fear it; for no one ever fears what he does not think is evil. But to think earthquakes and thunderbolts to be evil, which God has ordained to happen thus, how is that pious? And in general, unless one believes that God has determined our good to be within us, the immortal, and that He has assigned the actions toward the mortal and concerning the mortal to serve as a kind of ministry useful to the whole, having willed to contrive a mixture of the immortal and the mortal in us and in our species, deeming such a thing useful for the perfection of the whole (for not even of a whole is a part, a part...

^A that provides it. But you are not able to understand what Aristotle intends, and even less able to detect where he errs. We, however, will first clarify for you the opinion of Aristotle here, from these very words of his that will be set forth for you, so that your ignorance may be all the more exposed. For Aristotle, in saying that pleasure shares in the ultimate end and that it is necessary to share in it—as if the ultimate end would be for us an imperfect one if pleasure were not present with it—and in saying that it perfects our activities, he is clearly either positing pleasure as the end of our activities ^B or, if not this (although it ought to be posited as such, since he says that our activities are perfected by it), he would at least be positing it as a part of the ultimate end for us, making the end for us a composite, both of pleasure and of contemplation, like either his own contemplation or theoretical pleasure. For it makes no difference which of the two someone might state as the end for human life. Now, the opinion of Aristotle of this sort is not unclear even from these very words of his that you are setting forth here. And those who are in any way experienced in the discourses of Aristotle, to whom you also refer the judgment, will judge from these and the other things said by him concerning these very same matters; and we do not reject the judgment. For those who judge would not be less intelligent than you; for it is not easy to find anyone less intelligent than you among those who have applied themselves with zeal to the books of Aristotle. For it will appear that Aristotle exercises the discourse on pleasure in both directions, but in the end posits it for pleasure—but not for all, as if some pleasures were indeed evil. And this is not done well. For he ought to have distinguished whether, insofar as they are pleasures, the evil ones are evil. For if this is so, then all would be evil; and again, if some pleasure is good insofar as it is pleasure, then every pleasure must be good insofar as it is pleasure. For if any quality belongs to something insofar as it is itself, everything must be that kind of thing. But Aristotle does not distinguish any such thing. We, however, since we have made clear the opinion of Aristotle even from those things set forth here for you, will also speak of what he errs in within these things and in his whole discourse concerning pleasure—for he errs frequently, and in the greatest of matters. It is, then, the greatest of the things he errs in within these discourses to say that pleasure perfects our activities; for he calls it, indeed, the perfection of our activities. It makes no difference, however, if he did not call it perfection; for that which perfects must necessarily be a perfection. But we are so far from calling it a perfection that we say it is not present even in one of our perfections, but as always accompanying the completion *with* perception, not *of* perfection; for among our perfections (for we are manifold, and one is borne along with one activity, another with another) there is much of that ^D “For the ultimate end, he says, seems to be good and desirable for its own sake; but pleasure, since not every pleasure is good and desirable, would not be such of itself, so that the ultimate end would not be pleasure. That pleasure itself is the human good is not possible, he says; but it is necessary that this pleasure shares in the ultimate end, since it proceeds from the attainment of it. Since pleasure follows every end and good, being produced through perception when it is present, through memory when it has ceased, and through hope when it is about to occur; and for this reason he says that every activity is perfected by pleasure, not as if pleasure follows every activity, but as pleasure being arranged toward the proper end of each activity. And how is it possible for that which is being perfected not to be arranged toward the end which is perfecting it? For a thing is not perfected in any other way than by attaining its own end; so that there is a necessity that that which perfects anything be either the end itself, or the master and end of the end; and that itself is...

^A the perfection of us) to be released. Now, it has indeed been demonstrated in other places, and sufficiently proven to us elsewhere by many arguments—and no less in our former treatise, which you now oppose—that this is shown briefly regarding our most important activity, contemplation; by which, as we say, those who learn and recall it from forgetfulness perceive no small pleasure, while those who have long known and contemplated it perceive not very much at all. You, however, being unable even to face this argument of ours, but turning aside, disparage it, as if one ought not to believe in the greatest matters on the basis of such evidence, not understanding how much depth resides in this brief piece of evidence. And if pleasure always accompanies perfection along with perception, but does not accompany any perfection whatsoever, then there could be no end for us; for the end for us is not "to be perfected," but "to have been perfected" and "to be perfect," not "to be coming to be." And this consists in the soul becoming and being beautiful; for the perfect is beautiful in every kind. But since you reproach us, as though we had not gone through all of Aristotle’s arguments concerning these matters, nor answered all of them, and you take this as proof of our inability, you reproach us unjustly, for we had promised to speak not on all the things in which Aristotle errs, but on some of them, and that very briefly, while surely keeping our promise. But as for you, in that you propose to stretch out such a length of discourse, if you avoid any of our arguments, we say with good reason that you avoid them due to the utmost inability. And what, you most ignorant man, is the danger you say Plato is in, such that—if anywhere else—we should have had to defend him here? For you do not seem, it appears, to know Plato ^B as one who prefers prudence much more than the other virtues, and who does not consider that even one of the other virtues can exist without prudence in one who claims to possess them, as if there could be no virtue where prudence is missing; and who regards the contemplation and intellection of the most high God as the greatest element of prudence itself. What then is the danger in these matters for Plato? And this, too, from a man so inconsistent, who, while positing human blessedness in the contemplative pleasure here, declared it useless to us beforehand, since he said that what is altogether base cannot attain to being happy; and yet if we follow Plato, and have even ourselves worked things out further, so that not even unreasonably might we disdain the superficial refutations of Aristotle, having examined the arguments on the very subject itself to the extent that was necessary.

"Next, it is impossible for fire to move in a circle." You neither believe that fire moves in a circle in its own place, nor that we prove such a thing; but as for the arguments we set forth for the proof that fire moves in a circle, if they seemed to you insufficient, why did you not refute them, showing where they were insufficient, instead of turning aside entirely? And if, being unable even to look upon those arguments, you turned aside for the time being, why are you shameless in saying that we do not prove it? But those arguments we leave aside for the present, as they invite [the reader] to read back through our previous treatise, from which your own frivolous syllogisms against fire moving in a circle will also be refuted. But now we shall offer you another piece of evidence, and one that is not trivial, that fire moves in a circle. And we first ask you this: in what body do you think the comets reside? Is it in that new, completely indestructible body of Aristotle’s? But they are perishable. How is it possible for something perishable to come to be in a completely indestructible body, and one in which, according to you, the matter is ^C exceptional and impassive? For such a body must be unmixed with all other things, and not admitting anything perishable into itself. Or is it in the body underneath this one according to Aristotle—in the fire, which he has called the "exhalation"? But these [comets] rise and set along with the stars, and they themselves are carried in a circle similarly to them; so that the body which contains them, that is, the fire, would also be carried in a circle, even if you do not wish it. Unless, that is, you will claim that they themselves, the comets, move in a circle and rise and set with the stars, while the body surrounding them remains still. But even Aristotle grants that fire is moved in a circle, compelled by these comets, even if you appear to be ignorant—for you would not otherwise have so freely raised an objection to such a thing—but he claims that this movement is forced upon it by that fifth body of his, while he attributes such great power to the beauty of this body, so that all goods become fruitless for us, not through contemplation, but through the beauty of this body, and this, which is most dear, he should have attributed to blessedness. For if the contrary is for the contrary, and for the contrary, indeed, the contrary, as even Aristotle himself claims—because of such a man and one who dogmatizes so inconsistently, you think that Plato is in danger, or that we make much of spending time on the refutations of such a man? But to us, the arguments concerning pleasure and the end of man, God willing, are explained far better than those of Aristotle, if he places this movement—which is that of a part, not even of the whole, of the fire, and not even always upward (for he will say that the fire is not directed naturally upward everywhere or always, but only as much of it as happens to be in a foreign place)—as the most proper movement; while the movement of the whole of the fire, which is continuous and unceasing, he no longer places as proper, but as violent. And indeed, what I am saying is impossible; for if fire is not moved in a circle according to nature, but against nature and by force, it ought to be held back by that which is naturally inclined to remain still, and at a speed equal to that aforementioned fifth body of Aristotle ^D.

^A Now, comets also appear to be conjoined and set with the stars at a similar speed. For even if they are somehow carried along to the side and wherever else it may chance, this irregularity might indeed be natural to them due to their own perishable matter; however, they maintain the whole revolution at a speed similar to the stars, so as to be clearly part of one and the same continuous body. These also, being held within the orbits and revolving, if indeed they revolve at a speed similar to one another—I say similar, not equal in speed; for no part of the rotating sphere moves at a speed equal to another, except for those parts that are equidistant from the same poles and the center, but all parts of the sphere rotate within such a framework in a manner similar to one another.

But if Aristotle, relying on nothing else, creates his fifth body only because of the circular movement and the straight-line movement (for circular movement appears to belong to fire by nature more than straight-line movement does—for one ought to observe the natural movement of each thing when it is in its proper place, not when it is in a foreign one), then that fifth body of his goes away, appearing to be not only novel, but empty. And if this fire is not entirely imperishable, but like the others that are related to it—like air, water, and earth—is imperishable as a whole but perishable in its parts, while there must necessarily exist some body that is entirely imperishable, the stars are this: they dwell in fire and possess the matter of the fire of the body, but because of the forms, which are much more divine than the form of fire, they make their own bodies entirely immortal, and they are not such because of any unique, separate matter of their own. For what need have they of some specific matter if they suffice, even with common matter, to produce the same result? Or for what reason does God—as you yourself say—not preserve their bodies as naturally imperishable by the virtue of their forms through higher means rather than inferior ones, instead of through the novelty of a separate matter? For it was not necessary for you and your companion Aristotle to wish it so much, nor is there any need to confound God’s own law.

^B But as for you, in saying that the matter of the stars—if it be capable of any other forms—must necessarily at some time possess this in actuality, and that thus, clearly, the stars would degenerate into another form of matter, you seem to have been ignorant of that Aristotelian division: which posits that some things are always in actuality, some at times in potentiality and at times in actuality, and some are never in actuality, but always only in potentiality. For you know practically nothing of the goods of philosophy, unless perhaps you have heard some bits and pieces, and those poorly understood and applied to your own errors. For if it is not necessary that everything that exists potentially must at some point come into actuality, what prevents the matter in the stars, which possesses all forms potentially in itself—insofar as it is matter—from never being any of the others, hindered by the abundance of the power of the forms that possess it? And next, we do not even say this, but rather that it would indeed go into other forms and there be nothing in this that harms their imperishability. For since all forms are able to use the most ancient matter, it would not stay anywhere, so that in fact it might enter into all the forms it is capable of; being by nature, therefore, such as to constantly flow into and out of all bodies—at least in living creatures ^C (for it only flows out of the dead, from some faster, from others slower, and from some most slowly)—it also flows into those that are growing—more flows in than flows out—and in those that are wasting away, more flows out than in. What then prevents, even in the bodies of the stars, its always flowing in and flowing out, while keeping the outflow always equal to the inflow, by the abundance of the power of the forms in them, and thus saving the bodies as imperishable for them, without them needing any other matter beyond the one common kind?

But you, in demonstrating that our human soul does not make these bodies of ours immortal and in thinking to use this as a proof against the followers of Plato—that not even the souls of the stars could make their bodies immortal, unless their matter, being unique, provided this—you appear to be ignoring that they themselves do not refuse this even to the human soul. For the same ones posit that our soul also makes a body immortal, that is, a vehicle close to itself; a certain fiery spirit, by means of which it uses it and eventually comes to be with this mortal body—not through the deathless soul coming to be with a mortal body immediately, but through an intermediate deathless body. And this opinion, descending from Zoroaster to the followers of Plato ^D (1), both John and, before him, Plutarch, attribute—whether rightly or not—to Aristotle (2). To you, however, this proof also has turned out to be empty against the followers of Plato; and Aristotle, left destitute of the proofs that support him, runs the risk of not having any use for his own invention of a fifth body.

And what about his cold-blooded reasoning concerning the heat of the sun, which attributes the heat not to the nature of the body itself, but to its motion? This is an opinion you defend most basely and poorly. For though we show that even the moon does not heat in a way similar to its motion, you, objecting, say that Aristotle does not attribute the heating to every motion, but only to the fastest, even though Aristotle claims all motion is of such a nature as to set things on fire (3). If, then, the heating is to be attributed to every motion, the moon also ought to do so; but if only to the fastest, then not even the sun would; for the sun’s motion is not the fastest, but rather that of the fixed stars. Since neither the moon heats in a way similar to the sun, nor the fixed stars, does this new invention of Aristotle not also appear empty? But you, do not be so blinded as to think that what you do not know, no one else knows either.

^A For it is very clear here that he takes "deliberating" as applying to one who is altogether reasoning, and not to one who is ignorant but seeking. But the matter is this: it was a common axiom of all men, and is indeed always so for those of sound mind, that no one who does anything for an end does so without a mind directed toward that for which the thing is done. ^B While this axiom remained firm for those before Aristotle, those among men who thought the better thoughts, seeing that things which come to be by nature come to be in a manner similar to things that come to be by art, and that there is much "for an end" in them, although they themselves are irrational and mindless, they supposed that a certain divine mind stood over them from without and led each of them toward an end, just as the craftsmen stand over the manufactured products of men. But others, from a lack of godliness, hesitated to place any mind over things that come to be by nature, and they supposed that nature performs what it performs even without an end, insisting upon the irrationality of the things that come to be by nature.

With these thus differing among themselves, Aristotle, having become a sophist of words for his own sect, grants the "for an end" in nature to those who think in this way, but, hesitating to set a divine mind over nature from without, he himself proceeds against those more godless men—who were the only ones remaining—by attacking the common axiom, claiming it to be absurd not to think that something happens for an end, unless they witness the one acting deliberating, which is to say, reasoning. And indeed he tries to strip this reasoning away from human arts as well, speaking very senselessly ^C and unbecomingly, even if you poorly defend him by assuming that deliberating applies to the one who is ignorant but seeking, as there is no room at all for such a claim.

That such is Aristotle's thought is clear not only from the fact that he mentions nowhere any divine power from without established over these things that come to be by nature, when he ought to have done so, but also from the analogy to which he likens them, not likening them—as he ought to have done, had he established a divine mind over them—to one being treated by another, but to one treating himself. And yet he does not even use this analogy effectively against those he opposes; for they might immediately answer: "But nevertheless, Aristotle, in treating yourself you are surely not doing so irrationally, but are treating your own body by your own intellect, so that you might reasonably be said to do what you do 'for an end,' treating yourself; for you do it with intellect. But these things that come to be by nature, you would not say employ their own individual intellect, nor do you set any mind over them from without, as we do; if, indeed, you liken them not to another being treated by another, but to one treating himself, then, for the sake of this analogy, they would not be coming to be for an end."

Aristotle, then, is such a man, claiming absurdities and defending them with shallowness, striking those whom he strikes only with the multitude of his writings; in which, whatever might be held in high regard would not be his own, but would be what he has heard from Plato, ^D and which he claims for himself with great sophistry. Perhaps there might also be some private matters of

mine, concerning the inferior and minor things, that reveal him to be a stranger to the notion, or rather, completely lacking the keenness of his intellect even regarding such things, though he is dim-sighted toward greater ones. For it is evident from this that it is nonsensical for nature to be permitted to do something for an end, but for no intelligence to preside over it. ^A The ends toward which each of the things that occur by nature tend are not present in them at the beginning of their growth, but come to them, of course, at the very end. Let us examine this in one instance. The end of a vine’s tendril, having been wrapped around another plant’s shoot, is to support the vine upon that plant, nature having received in plants the capacity to be ivy-like. Therefore, the tendril being wrapped around the shoot of another plant and supporting the vine is not present in the vine as it grows, nor in the tendril immediately, but it comes to be at the very end. ^B Yet, nonetheless, the final cause of a tendril growing on the vine at all is its attachment to another plant. Now, it is impossible for something that does not yet exist, nor is even ordered among things that are, to be the cause of something that is already; for the cause must possess existence, it cannot not exist. Therefore, one must presume that in some intelligence there exists the attachment of the vine to another plant, which intelligence governs it just as a craftsman does with his tools; and the tendril itself because of such attachment, by nature—or even amazingly, if nothing of the sort is placed near it to which it might wrap itself—appears to be directed in a straight line, but if some shoot is present, it is immediately wrapped around. Thus, to deny either that the tendril does not grow on the vine for this reason, so that it may attach it to another plant, is ^C not reasonable, nor is there any justification for not placing an intelligence over such things. Plato, therefore, making the Ideas to be intelligences, places these over each of the things that occur by nature. But Aristotle, if he did not wish to agree to these, should at least have placed an intelligence over them in some other way, and not have conjectured about natural things so laughably, while curing himself—namely, as though there were no intelligence presiding over them from without.

As for you calling us slanders of Aristotle by terming him an atheist, you yourself rather slander us; for we have not said, nor do we say, that Aristotle is an atheist because he places no gods at all over the heaven, but we say—and have said, and quite rightly—that he leans toward atheism. For, in the first place, he does not assign the God who is the head of the other gods even a preeminent place in divinity, as Plato and all the followers of Zoroaster do, but [deems him] to be of an essence similar to the others, if indeed he makes all of them equal, existing through themselves, and makes him a fellow-partitioner with the others in the distribution of the spheres. ^D Then, too, he does not make this god, nor any other, the creator of the substance of the heaven, as all the wise and the most of the common people do; and furthermore, he places no divine intelligence over these things that occur by nature, against the more pious of men. He who is diseased with all these things, how is he not one who leans toward atheism? And, indeed, even providence—as for the fortune of divine providence, he is clearly a stranger to it, or at least he leaves so little of it that his own account of providence is rightly ridiculed. For all the wise men and those who think better than the rest attribute all things, as many as might be accomplished for men, to divine providence; and as for that which is not provided for us by providence, nor through us, they call it fortune and divine fortune—as not being from us nor through our virtue, but coming about through a divine cause alone—and are clearly in agreement with divine providence and fortune. But Aristotle indicates that fortune is foreign to divine providence, and it itself—which you, having set forth in this your composition, have claimed as though it were spoken by him most piously—is revealed [as such]. “Now fortune and things from fortune truly happen as it might happen; and if indeed we were to attribute such a thing to God, we would make him a poor judge or not a just one; and this is not fitting for God.” For Aristotle says these things ignorant of divine justice, whereby it distributes such things to each according to their capacity, as well as to the harmony of the whole, giving back what is most fitting, and always preferring the good of the whole to that of the part, in accordance with the most just principle. On account, then, of all these things, we have been especially moved to refute the man, so that no one, being persuaded by Averroes—just as many of those in the West are—and as though paying attention to everything the wise man says, might at the same time be unconsciously filled with the atheistic opinions he presents; rather, being aware that there are many evil things commingled in his writings, but also not a few good ones, one might select these good things and guard against the evil ones.

If he says that some things occur without cause, he takes “cause” in the definite sense, but “occurring” in the general and confused [sense] that is already accepted. Whenever you assume something of Aristotle’s, you ought to have examined whether your assumption is consistent with the whole subject matter, so that by saying things at random, and [things that] do not fit the subject matter at all, you might not behave indecorously. For thus Aristotle says: “It is absurd also to make generation [exist] while eternal beings exist,”—you, assuming “generation” in terms of time and not in terms of cause, have been refuted by saying something that does not fit the entire hypothesis; thus, you have been thoroughly refuted here against the subject matter by assuming “deliberation” to mean being ignorant of something, while seeking, or simply reasoning. But these things—that generation and deliberation are in use and are said in many ways—it is nothing wonderful if you, having happened upon the homonym as a boon, which you assumed would contribute something to the argument, having not seen through lack of understanding that you will be caught by that which does not fit the subject matter, [and] assuming nothing healthy. Here indeed even the cause is not...

^A found, and you despoil it of the formal cause. Yet, nevertheless, let it be granted that you are under constraint, and in this too you behave unbecomingly; for while the cause can sometimes be found to be homonymous with the reproach, we know that the "aition" ^B is at no point anything other—among the Greeks and the rest, nor with Aristotle—than that which completely brings something to pass, whether it brings it to completion as an end, or as a moving force, or as a model, or as matter, and furthermore whether it be immediate or not immediate.

You, however, propose a passage from Aristotle in order to show that he calls the most proximate cause *properly* the cause, [but] you are clearly not understanding what this means. For Aristotle says ^C (1), "It is necessary to speak of the most proximate causes, not as though these alone ought to be called causes properly, but as one who delivers the knowledge of the generation of things that come to be must deliver it through the most proximate and immediate causes, as knowledge would not be sufficient for one without the knowledge of the immediate cause." You, therefore, are here clearly speaking poorly, not forcing the cause to be homonymous into homonymy. But so that we might concede this to you for the sake of the argument, let the proximate and immediate [cause] be called to you the cause properly so-called. If then we assume that Aristotle calls such a thing the cause here, just as you say, what [contribution] could we make to him for the need for which he requires it? For see: those who establish fate upon these two premises—which we also related in our previous treatise—establish [it] on one premise, that it is necessary that everything that comes to be comes to be from some cause, and on another, that everything that is a cause, whatever it may be doing, acts of necessity and definitely. ^D Aristotle, therefore, seeing that fate is concluded most necessarily from both of these two premises, needing to do away with it since he knew that it would not otherwise be done away with unless he destroyed one of these two premises, proceeds against [the] "everything that comes to be is of necessity from some cause." Claiming himself that some of the things that come to be (2) come to be. Aristotle claims [this] to come to be. Thus, he alone contradicts the common premise, and what so comes to be will not result from necessity (3); but if something comes to be without only the proximate [cause], as you assume, but with the rest of the causes remaining for him, why then would that which so comes to be not result from necessity? For the remaining causes will produce it for him of necessity and definitely. See then, even in your own example of those animals and plants that come to be without seed—which you produce from matter alone and from the moving forces above, without assigning to them any formal cause, even though Aristotle assigns to these also the place that holds the seed, arguing that everything of such a kind comes to be either from seed or from that which is analogous to seed, that is, [the thing] which holds the form potentially—which clearly you, as it seems, are entirely ignorant of;...

^A Ridiculously (5), you consider every moving and productive force to be that which it moves; and as it seems, you think that the ox—because it is the motive force for us of the cart—is also the productive force for us of the cart itself, such that if we only had a plentiful supply of oxen, we would no longer have need of a wheelwright. But you are clearly someone who, having suffered such a thing through not knowing how to distinguish, [do not know] what is productive. That which moves and makes some other motion, and not generation, might be said to move towards that which it moves, but not [to make] the thing which it moves; rather, it relates to that which is being acted upon, not that which is coming into being. That which moves and makes the motion called generation might be said to move the very thing that is coming into being, not towards [the thing itself], because that which acts and that which is being produced, not that which is being acted upon, are set against one another. For the sun is said to generate the grass from the earth and to move and indeed produce the grass; but by heating the earth, it would not be said to produce the earth, but [to act] upon the earth. And the ox, by moving the cart, would not be said to produce the cart, but [to act] upon the cart. So too, then, does God, for Aristotle, by moving the heaven of necessity and by making [motion] upon it, not, however, [make] the heaven itself. You, therefore, clearly suffer such things on account of ignorance; do not, however, think that those who know the trickery of sophisms will be persuaded by you of the same thing.

"For how," he says, "could the forms also produce the unity in things, if it is the moving [force] that produces this, and they do not have the account of a moving cause?"

^A And from this, is it not evident whether Aristotle is or is not an Aristotelian? He calls Him only a "First Principle," and by movement, indeed, he considers God to be the creator of the heavens; if, indeed, he does not say that the active [principle] is what contributes to the unity of things, but rather the moving [principle]. For I see in all things that where one thing is the active [principle] and another is the moving [principle], the moving cause is not the responsible agent for their unity, but rather the active [principle]. For instance, in the case of a wagon, it is not the ox that moves it, but the wagon-maker that is the cause of its unity; and of a ship, it is not the rower, but the shipwright. Consequently, even if there were some thing that were simultaneously both producing and moving, one would surely not say that it is the cause of unity in its capacity as moving, but in its capacity as producing. If, then, Aristotle knew that God simultaneously produces things in the heavens and moves them, he would not have said that the moving [principle] was the cause of unity to beings, but the producing [principle], since production is far more authoritative for unity in things than movement is. Now, however, because he does not know God [as being] in relation to moving and producing things in heaven, he uses the moving [principle] for the unity of beings due to a lack of a producing cause. Yet, does not Aristotle claim that being, unity, and goodness are convertible? If he says that God is the cause of unity to beings, ^B he is also bound to think Him the cause of their essence, if he does not even consider Him a king—to whom he most of all compares God, ruler of many nations, providing them unity through concord, and preparing happiness through the provision of good things—[and] he would think Him also the cause of their essence. He would consider Him to be one who, presiding over nations that are otherwise discovered and existing, provides them with concord and happiness through His own virtue and the knowledge of how one ought to rule.

"It is difficult to believe that he considers the celestial bodies to be responsible not only for movement, but also for the being of other things, while they do not change, while [at the same time] he would declare that the cause which moves the celestial bodies is responsible only for their being moved."

"If, in the second book of *On the Heavens*, he says that nothing in eternal things happens as it chances or by spontaneity, but through some cause."

Spontaneity («τοὐτόματον»), Aristotle defines most of all as that which does not occur or exist for the sake of something, contributing his thought to the etymology of the name. For he says that we know the name itself, when it happens in vain. Thus, as he himself posits that eternal things are moved and ordered for the sake of something, he reasonably deems spontaneity unworthy of eternal things.

"If, therefore, with the first principle being removed, order is removed, and with order being removed, genesis is removed; [then] with the first principle removed, genesis is removed. Therefore, the first principle—which he posits as intellectual and immaterial—he declares to be the initiator of order in all beings and of genesis in things that come to be, and of all celestial things; and he declares that its causal and initiating power extends from the heavens to all things that come to be and pass away, so that if this did not exist, neither could all those things be."

Do you not perceive, being yourself the one under examination, that you are using these very words of Aristotle? Do you not hear it said that with the principle removed, order is removed; and with order removed, genesis is removed? As for the things in the heavens according to him, and the spheres in accordance with him, and the principle being removed—if indeed you would grant to Aristotle that God is the cause of the celestial essence at all—he would not say that with the principle removed, order is removed; rather, he would say that the heaven itself, and the spheres in accordance with it, are removed—or rather the whole [universe]—or [he would say] that the eternal essences [are removed], and with them removed, much more than simply order, genesis itself would be removed. Is it not clear from these things that Aristotle’s opinion is that God is not the creator of heaven? ^D I admire this in you as I calculate: that you do not understand the majority of Aristotle’s passages which you propose to refute us, and [you do not understand] from them [index: entries preserved]

being the one who is actually exposed by these very things, ^A as being one who understands Aristotle the least. It even makes me laugh when I hear you singing his praises and writing commentaries on Aristotle; regarding which, if you would be persuaded by me, if anything has already been written by you, you will consign it to the fire and cause it to vanish; but if it has not yet been written, but you intend to write it, you will not even attempt it, so that you do not become a laughingstock among those who encounter it by acting unbecomingly in matters you do not understand. For I see neither wisdom present in you, and your intellect is quite dim.

«As if it were possible to say that, in the corrupted passages of the *Metaphysics*, perhaps he said something about the First Principle more extensively and clearly than I have; yet some say that many things have been corrupted, and that is plausible.»

You seem to me to have taken your cue from the Jews of the present day who, having no way to prove a principle of their own for the land that is known to us, take refuge in the unknown, and say that there is, somewhere or other on earth, a principle and a kingdom of the Jews that is not mean. And you, having gone through all the books of Aristotle, and having found in them not one iota contributing to the matter you are studying—but even being refuted by the majority of those things that you thought you had found, instead of refuting them yourself, and adding to them nothing that follows—while you insert things from Thomas ^B at times that are not appropriate, but are merely rambling at length, for a time you boast that you are accomplishing something, while accomplishing nothing; but like a base rooster, as Plato said, you crow, having been defeated rather than victorious, and you leap away from the argument, and in the end, by inventing certain corrupted books of Aristotle, you take refuge in those, as if something had been stated there by Aristotle for this matter you are pursuing. And you may act thus; but I say that, since Aristotle does not appear to have said anything of the sort in these books, even though he needed to say it in many places, he would not have said it in those things currently being dreamt up by you.

«It is ridiculous, if someone is to pass judgment on Aristotle [not] from the things he spoke of poorly, but from the things about which he remained entirely silent, having uttered neither an affirmation nor a negation.»

But it was not in his power to utter both the affirmation and the negation so shamelessly. For to utter the negation brought the fear of hemlock; for the Creator of the heaven was believed to be God by the majority of the Greeks, as Aristides the Eudaemonist would most clearly show, who, although he practiced rhetoric and it was not fitting for him, by reason of his profession, to introduce novelties privately into such matters, but rather to agree with the opinions of the many, says things like this in his discourse *To Zeus*: «Zeus made all things, and the works of Zeus are the heaven and the earth and the gods and men, and as many things as one must grasp in thought and as many as are seen; but no one made him, nor is he older ^C than Zeus, nor is there anything else.» But he appears to be revealing himself simultaneously as one who thinks the world is eternal, saying thus: «Since he is superior to time and has no one rising up against him, he himself and the cosmos existed together; thus he quickly made all things.» But Aristides was thus able to bring into agreement the creation of the world and its eternity; but the wisdom of Aristotle is so much inferior even to this theology of Aristides that, because of the eternity [of the world], it turned away from creation. Yet what I am saying, from Aristides, makes clear the opinion of the majority of the Greeks regarding such a thing, and even from much earlier, from Orpheus: «From Zeus all things have come into being.» Now the Greeks granted forgiveness to their poets if they sang something dissonant, as they took refuge in allegories; but they were very angry with those who made themselves out to be wise. And Anaxagoras was in danger, being accused of impiety, from whom even Pericles was in danger when he had run off, as his enemies always brought up against him his associations with Anaxagoras; so that, if it were not for the Peloponnesian War, he would not have escaped trial for these things. Socrates was even put to death by the hemlock, having been slandered on the same charges. Therefore, it was not safe even for Aristotle to utter the negation of the creation of the heaven by God; but as for the affirmation, what else would have prevented him, if not the fact that he did not know it in this way? Are we examining a rhetor in this matter who is speaking in some lawsuits, or advising the masses about war or peace, for whom it would have been most necessary in such matters to mention some precise theology? We are examining a man who professes the science of beings, insofar as they are beings, to teach [us]. Who then would believe that Aristotle knew God as the creator of the heaven, and then remained silent about it everywhere in his books, and neither called him maker, nor father, nor cause, nor claimed anything at all by which he would be seen to hold such an opinion? No, but he thought that we ought to stretch ourselves about seed and embryos and shellfish and things similar to these, and while being overly busy with things beyond what is necessary, he did not mention the dogmas of that which is most beautiful and most necessary for every human to know, even in the slightest? And how could he have still taught us [about] the beings, insofar as they are beings, without having taught us whence they possess their essence? And if it were necessary in many places of the discourses, if indeed he believed he ought to mention it, and then did not mention it, what argument remains except that he did not believe it so? We, however, say that Aristotle not only remained silent about such a thing, but even uttered words from which, even if he did not shamelessly negate it, nevertheless, one could most clearly catch [him in] the negation, not in the affirmation, in what he believed, just as it has already been demonstrated to us. You, however, would be more ridiculous, both because you do not understand the words we say and because you acquit Aristotle, who, when he ought to have spoken, did not speak, but, as it seems, has paid heed to those Pythagorean verses.

^A Since you slander Aristotle—and when you slander a friend, what else should one expect from you?—let me explain what the thought of Aristotle is in this passage. Geometricians posit the generation of certain shapes merely for the sake of study, not because they actually believe that the shapes themselves come into being in that way—just as, for instance, in the case of the rotation of a semicircle, they posit that a sphere comes into being ^B (for the rotation of a semicircle is by no means the cause of the sphere; for nature does not make a sphere for a gourd by the rotation of a semicircle); rather, they posit such a generation purely for the sake of studying the sphere. Looking toward something like this, Aristotle says concerning the Pythagoreans that they do not posit the generation of numbers for the sake of study, as if they were attributing to them a cause for their coming into being; rather, he says this because they clearly have a status and an existence in and of themselves. This is as if to say they possess their being from some cause, a notion that Aristotle in no way accepts regarding specific substances and forms. The things said above these, namely, "This is what coming into being means in natural things," and "as it is necessary that inequality should exist for them prior to being made equal," ^C are clearly not said by Aristotle as if he supposes that the Pythagoreans think these things. Instead, Aristotle himself introduces these things as consequences of their arguments, bringing them to an absurdity by reason of his own insistence that the generation according to cause, as we say, must necessarily be followed by a temporal one. It is for this reason that he demands that, in the subjects introduced, inequality must exist prior to being made equal.

Now, concerning what you say, that it is evident even to a blind man: we say that to think that it is evident to a blind man in his understanding is perhaps to say something, but to one who understands Aristotle’s diction and thought, you do not appear to be saying anything sensible. ^D And first, tell me: what is this natural generation that you say Aristotle thinks the Pythagoreans speak of regarding numbers? Do you mean the one that begins in time? And then, do you deem Aristotle so foolish that he would think that some people believe numbers to be both eternal and beginning in time, or that he would slander even those who do not think this, risking either the reputation of being a fool or being caught slandering someone who cannot be deceived? You, as slanderers, are not accustomed to slander only those on whom you think you can slander without being caught, and not those on whom you would be caught? But Aristotle neither thinks that the Pythagoreans believe numbers to be both eternal and beginning in time, nor does he slander them as if they held such a view. Rather, slandering Aristotle now—

...that generation which comes from things that are only potentially not-being, he does not accept, and he attacks those who attribute generation to eternal things—both the Pythagoreans and Plato—on the grounds that it is necessary that everything which comes into being should do so from that which was not previously in act, so that generation is not even possible for eternal things. That this is the thought behind this opinion of Aristotle is shown by the man himself in his proof of the eternity of the heavens, which he demonstrates in no other way than by granting the heavens the power of "always being," clearly as if the possibility of "not being" were excluded by the limitation.

^A For if it possesses it, but does not possess the power from the heavens of "not being," nor if creation could be attributed to it, nor is it the cause of the essence at all—for causes are of things that are capable of not-being, not of things that are altogether impossible not to be. But certainly, from many other points as well, some of which you yourself have brought forward to refute us, which have turned to the opposite against you, it is very clear that Aristotle does not consider God to be the creator, nor the maker, nor the cause at all of the substance of the heavens; and this is manifest especially from two things: his rejection of generation from eternal things—which you, through lack of understanding, poorly misinterpret—and the manner of his own demonstration of the eternity of the heavens. And this is twofold: first, in that he does not demonstrate it from a cause (which he ought to have done, if he had believed there was indeed a cause of it), and second, in that by granting the heavens the power of "always being," he no longer leaves for it the power of "not-being." ^B But you, after toiling much, have accomplished nothing beyond grabbing at what we have said, bragging frequently with empty and ridiculous boasts as if you were achieving something, when you are not aware that you are not only failing but are also being wounded by your own weapons.

If, indeed, it is sufficient, once and for all, for the first cause of all things to have infinite power toward bringing forth everything that participates in it in any way, why is there need for "common being"? And the likeness of the first cause established in things is sufficient to gather everything into unity, if they were produced according to some analogy and order, which consists in them in their partly sharing and partly differing from one another. But one cannot say this of Aristotle, who deems it acceptable for one thing to be the cause of one. Consequently, he shifts the heavens to another mover for another motion, so that one mover would not immediately move multiple motions. ^C If, therefore, Aristotle produced all beings from one cause, he would himself have led them back to one genus, so that it might be, according to his own postulate, the cause of one. But as it is, because he does not produce beings from one cause (or does not produce them at all), he logically thought that nothing stood in the way of his not leading beings back to one genus. But we, to whom it seems most certain that all beings were and are produced by one God, could not fail to include them in one common genus, so that it might be the cause of one—not, however, a simple and indivisible one, but a simple one emanating from the one, though it is great. For this Aristotlean postulate is not blameworthy, if one were to use it well and properly. But regarding your claim that the likeness of the first cause, being established in existing things, gathers them into unity, you seem not to know what you are saying. For in what way would this likeness of the first cause in existing things exist? We say, however, that if God, having understood the existing things found otherwise, ^D and having added some likeness to them, perhaps added it further to them; for since He is the one who provides "being" to them, it is impossible that He would not much earlier provide to them, in their very being, both the likeness to Himself and unity. For what He first gives to existing things, He gives nothing prior to their being. This would then be at once similar to Himself, in the way it could be, and at the same time He gives it unity.

And furthermore, what is this "thinking something else" when he calls these things "being"? Just as we behave regarding all things commonly known as homonyms; do we not conceive of "the same being" for all existing things when we say that any of them "is"? But where Aristotle and those who attend to him regarding this are mostly mistaken is that they did not conceive that every genus is equally participated in by its species in terms of definition, but not equally in reality. For instance, "animal" is equally participated in, by definition, by both the rational and the irrational, in that it is predicated of every and each one of them, but not equally in reality; for the rational is "more" an animal, since rational life is also "more" life, while the irrational is a kind of imitation of rational life. And essence, too, is equally participated in by both the immortal and the mortal in terms of definition, in that it is predicated of all and each of them, but in reality the immortal is more of an essence than the mortal—for the mortal is an imitation of the immortal, whose immortality it mimics through the succession of things that always succeed one another. In general, every genus, being divided into a more perfect and a less perfect species, is necessarily participated in more by the more perfect in reality, not just by definition, and nothing prevents the same genus from being of both the more perfect and the less perfect. Therefore, not even if essence were more of the existing thing to that which possesses it would it prevent "being" from being a genus for both. But Aristotle, not having conceived of this, thought that what happens in definition must also happen in reality, which would happen in no genus, if one were to examine existing things properly. Those things we would justly remove from "being" and we would call privations, destructions, and, in general, evils, homonyms, of which God is not the cause—since such things occur by the falling away of "being." Nor would they justly participate in "being," unless perhaps insofar as they occur around things that have being. This much we say for the present regarding the non-homonymy of "being." As for your other babblings, we say nothing for now; we leave it to others, starting from these, to easily perceive your weakness from them.

How, moreover, could two contradictions be opposed to one affirmation, which is necessarily the case if these things were the same? And who is ignorant that the saying, "No man is white," is opposed to the true one, "Some man is white"? But the saying, "It is not the case that a man is white," at the same time is true with the statement, "Some man is white," for it is true that some man is white…

^A and not rather on this account is it also one negation? For a man is either white or not white. And who is he ^B who, having heard this said about wood or a stone, will think it is being said, if neither wood nor stone has been mentioned? For it is from the things said that both affirmations and [the] negations consist, and not from the things not said. Or, just as Aristotle does, by adding "wood" to "It is not the case that a man is white," do you claim that one ought to speak the true for the false? Is it not for us, too, with the statement, "No man is white," to be able to make the previously false statement true by putting forward an elephant? How will it not be true to say that "No man is an elephant white," just as it is to claim that "wood" is not "a white man"? For why is it more fitting to add "wood" to "It is not the case that a man is white" than to add "an elephant" to "No man is white"? But this of Aristotle’s is also ridiculous—to demand that the truth or falsity of negations be judged from things not said, and not from the things said alone. For who does not know that even a small part of a discourse, when added at times, has turned the discourse to the contrary? ^C But if you say this is Aristotle’s "inner thought," this is not even worth the bark of a tree; for which reason, it was not even deemed worthy of a discourse by us in the prior composition, since we did not undertake to write down everything that could be said against Aristotle and Aristotelians, so that you might justly blame us if we omitted something that others had said, or if we did not encounter some of the things of Aristotle, but only those things which seemed to us sufficient to demonstrate that this man is left behind by Plato by no small degree. Since we have passed over many other things of Aristotle that are poorly said, and of those we did set forth, we did not go through everything that could be said about them, but kept to our promise: that the proofs were not to be long or contentious, but as far as possible we have met his most important refutations with brevity. For they were not written down with great industry, but during an illness in Florence, as you yourself know, and while not going out for many days from the house in which we were camped, and as is likely, at the same time refreshing ourselves in our illness and favoring those who are attached to Plato. In the briefest terms, therefore, those things were written, and these things are put forward against your trifles, since they are not—as you are—easy for us to compose, but only when it is sufficient to be precise. So much, then, has been said by us against your complaints concerning our brevity. But what, pray, does that point of yours signify, if the same thing, "It is not the case that a man is white," and "No man is white," are two negations opposed to one contradiction? ^D For how, if the same thing, are there two, and is not this also worth counting against you as vomit?

But we have no leisure to seize upon all your sins; one must shift to those things stated by you concerning the soul, which are said insensately. He says that one must call that which is generated, specifically that which is generated according to substance, "becoming"—to which, in fact, the perishing is most opposed; for this is what Aristotle most specifically calls "becoming." And since he says that some of the things that come to be come to be without a cause, he uses the term "becoming" here in a rather novel way for every thing that undergoes some change. And Aristotle seems most likely in this way to speak of generation regarding things that come to be by nature, but of human actions specifically regarding this latter—about which the argument concerning fate is also usually sought. Regarding these, Aristotle himself also, in his book *On Interpretation*, attempts to abolish fate, making the "will" the beginning of future things, though not correctly. For if things that happen to us from without—things like matters that cast a desire for new things into us—were not present, we would not even deliberate with pleasure. Looking towards such things, then, and not at things that come to be without a seed, he might call some of the things that come to be [things that come to be] without a cause; for his concern regarding human affairs is most of all to do away with fate, so that he may also do away with divine providence along with them, entrusting them to his own [conception of] chance. For the chance according to the wise is that which, being not only from us, no longer stands in the way of divine providence. But the chance according to Aristotle, being able to be a cause besides one, casts out both fate and providence, the [providence] of the Divine, from human affairs. For fate, just as divine providence is brought in, so in this way it is also taken away along with it. And it appears that Aristotle has given grounds to Epicurus not only for his discourses on pleasure, but also for his removal of the providence of the Divine. But you-you dare, and with such great ignorance at that, to compare Plato and Aristotle and to judge both men? Relying on what intellect? With what science of discourse? You who call the impiety of Aristotle a "definition and discrimination," and the god-fearing nature of Plato a "confusion"—you yourself being confused in your intellect! Who, then, knows better how to unite and distinguish things than Plato, who uses the dialectical method most of all? Aristotle, however, as one who does not for the most part use division, but induction—a method inferior to division—would not know how to distinguish well, nor even how to order things to one another; for it is the division from a common principle that orders things, whereas he knows "uniting" even much less, because he does not bring forth existing things from one God, or rather, does not bring them forth correctly at all. But if you [are defending] the [path] toward atheism of Aristotle...