NICETAS: EULOGY FOR THE HOLY ARCHANGELS MICHAEL AND GABRIEL
ANiceta, servant of Jesus Christ, philosopher, eulogy for the holy archangels, Michael and Gabriel.
In praising Michael, I shall also praise Gabriel; for to praise Michael and Gabriel is the same thing, because they exist wholly in one another, and each in each, and there exists between them a concord of mind and an equality of nature. And in praising both of these, I shall direct my praise to God, for they have gathered into themselves all the magnificent glory of the Godhead. For, by an intemporal nod B the primary Intellect established at once the first-created intelligences along with all others, and, willing them to be first in order, how else would the most beautiful and supreme Intellect have imparted the overflowing gift and radiance to those who have employed such great likeness to Him? And since the like is contemplated in the like according to the proportion of that likeness, the praise of these beings would surely be that of God, who is contemplated within them as in spotless mirrors. But in praising God, I need the presence of God as Spirit and Light: the Light, so that He may illumine and brighten my mind and make it a spectator of the purest contemplations; the Spirit, on the other hand, so that using my intellect and tongue as a certain rational instrument, He may direct them with His all-wise inspirations toward an accurate explanation of the things contemplated. Who, then, has progressed to being perfected and accomplished in every kind of virtue, to being led by the hand through life toward contemplation, and from contemplation being raised to contemplation, and to rising above the entire visible world and the vanity and disorder within it, C and who, within the supercelestial sphere of divine things, He may direct with His all-wise inspirations! Truly, if anyone...
A be formed by a certain divine hand according to every norm of virtue; be perfected to the nail; be accurate in the diligence of all duties; and be led by that holiness of life unto contemplation, so that by its steps he may raise himself to the very citadel of mind and counsel—thereby looking down upon this whole visible world and all its deceits and vanities from a great height—and, having been admitted to the choirs of divine minds, may personally and closely enjoy fellowship with that great sublimity and splendor: may such a one be blessed, first of all, in that happiness, and may he rejoice in the embrace of such great glory. Then, let him impart some share and rays of this great light of his to others, bringing both splendor for the ornamentation of the holy Church and fruit for its delight by thinking rightly, by wisely proposing what is pious, and by expressing it.
But let him who lacks the capacity for such a blessed abundance move himself far from this, and either compose himself in the quiet of modest silence to catch the sounds of heavenly voices, if perhaps by that humility he might be able to derive a stream of higher wisdom into his own lowliness; or, if he cannot even endure to wait for this, let him be held unworthy of the knowledge of secret discourses, as one altogether impure and profane.
The beginning of the discourse, furthermore, is God, who, to speak with Scripture, has neither beginning of days nor end of life, but exists always from all eternity into all perpetuity of time. B Since He is good, or, to attain the matter more closely with a word, is Goodness itself and the perennial fountain of goodness, it certainly did not behoove Him to grow old in solitude or to enjoy the delights of His own goodness alone. Nor does the nature of the Good permit this, that it should regard only Itself, nor does it confine the power of its utility and beneficence to the one who possesses it. Therefore, it was necessary for the Supreme Good, by drawing all things to Himself and gathering them into Himself, to manifest the abundance of His profusion, and to hold within Himself the institution of His own nature, whose singular unity has a marvelous power to fuse all things into one. By this reconciliation, therefore, heaven is joined to earth.
Heaven, I say—or if it is to be called by another more proper name, the universal order of incorporeal minds—was distributed in a threefold manner into three hierarchies by the more ancient theologians. The first of all, inferior in order to the others, is constituted in a harmonious sequence of the holy Angels, then the holier Archangels, and finally the Principalities that are more excellent than both of these. C The second, next superior to this one, consists of the high Powers, the higher Virtues, and the Dominations, which are ordered among themselves according to the dignity of those two prior ones. The third, finally, which is also the highest of all, is likewise fashioned in a triple order: first of those divine spirits who are called Thrones; then of the more divine Cherubim; and D lastly, within that whole class, the most divine Seraphim. The first of all leads the nearest and most intimate participation in the primary goodness, and is perfected by it. Then, gleaming with the rays of this same goodness, it conveys the draft [of these gifts] into the other subsequent orders of the subject hierarchies.
Addenda
(2) "One of many." This phrase in this place signifies what many support with examples drawn from the Hebrew and Greek languages. It seems to me that Catullus also spoke in this manner, epigram 1: *Jam tum cum ausus es unus Italorum* *Omne aevum tribus explicare chartis*, etc. In which place, *unus* [one] appears to be *primus* [first].
Panegyric on the Holy Michael and Gabriel by Nicetas
A From that very fount, He spreads light through a gratuitous communication. This heaven is truly, as it were, one, and worthy of such a name, just as if it were a supreme throne prepared for the Most High; but the earth, as a footstool adapted in its humility for so lowly a use, is subjected to that throne. Now, I call the earth the entirety of all sensible bodies; which is and is called a second, material, and visible world. But a discussion of this world is not what we must now undertake. Nor does the first, intelligible world, as widely as it extends, lack a universe to encompass it in our discourse. For the archangels maximal and foremost, Michael and Gabriel, have long since claimed our entire discourse of this day for themselves; they are the magnificent argument for speaking, being first of all the individual leaders of the archangelic order and the best moderators of the entire choir of divine angels. As for the entire world, whose form can be discerned by the mind alone, they are like two most lucid eyes, sharpened even unto the vision of God, intent in every direction, through which God looks down upon the whole orb of the earth. For, having been turned from the beginning, by their own most constant choice of mind and the purest loves of a sincere disposition, toward the promotion of the excellent and glorious majesty of the divine in a spirit more intent than the rest, they are rightly honored by Him with supreme honors. They are mighty in power to perform the will of the Mighty. They are wise to understand the counsel of the Wise: or rather, of Him whom they see to be superior to all in power and wisdom, inasmuch as they contemplate Him more closely. They are distinguished by a great and holy name. They themselves are the scope of our oration. They themselves, I surely hope, will direct it to themselves so that it may not go astray. For it is beyond our nature and faculty to aspire to the magnificence of divine things: or to deserve them and bind to ourselves by praise those supernal minds, whose excellence is at an infinite interval above the human capacity. But, having used those very beings as the guides of our thought and speech, let us produce a laudation exacted by their leading, both in its own way [and] according to the measure of our faculty, rather than according to their merit. Which, indeed, will not be curiously scrutinized in a subtle investigation of angelic nature—what it may eventually be—for that would be attempted in vain, unless perhaps one might succeed in weaving a sort of praise from their various works, from the power that is seen in them, toward the knowledge of that [nature] which contains them and which that nature manifests, to which we might attain by slowly suspecting and estimating. And first, indeed, [we must know] that that supreme Being, neither begotten by a parent nor produced by an effect, is cause, or God to have been brought forth from any principle; but that He is the Creator Himself and the maker both of all time and of this entire double universe, both that which is perceived by the sense of the eyes and that which is perceived by the thought of minds. Furthermore, that Michael and Gabriel were established by Him as the supreme Commanders of the celestial militia of the angels cannot be proven by words or many arguments. Nor is it even necessary, since faith, which is more efficacious and certain than any demonstration, teaches these things. Being persuaded by the authority of this alone, and established by assent to this, let us thus finally institute the rest of our consideration, so that, starting from the very first head, we may proceed through the series of sacred commentaries to the memory of their every function or operation.
D “The eternal God, according to that divine oracle, sits upon His holy throne.” What, pray, shall we consider this session to be? I believe it is that most firm and immutable constancy and lingering in one sentiment always. Now, for one sitting upon a throne, it is fitting that satellites should appear, as it were, to a great King. It is fitting that those concerning created [things]
should stand by closely. Who, then, waits nearest to the throne of the Highest? Who of all is found worthy to be set eternally in the service, becomingly to the majesty of the unapproachable? Clearly, it is Michael and Gabriel, the life-guards of the supreme majesty, the mystagogues of the most wise minds, and those who stand above the whole of creation in ineffable excellences.
From this point, the Creator of things that come to pass begins His work; He makes heaven, and constitutes earth; He brings forth the substance of light, and separates darkness from light. Then He stretches out the firmament. And the abysses of the waters, some He suspends above the foundation, and others He casts into caves and whirlpools beneath the surface of the earth. Then, by His word, He rouses the various natures and species of plants and animals, of every kind, either from the earth or from the water. Furthermore, He displayed the great luminaries and the widely scattered multitude of stars, a most beautiful spectacle to the whole world, and at the same time a signal monument to His wisdom and power. With what service, therefore, might created things render grace to the Creator? With one praise for so many perfect works, and with a holy hymn mixed from the symphony of all the most holy minds combined. But who leads the mode and tone of this song? Who takes upon himself the proems of the song which is sung to the praise of God, who is greater than all praise? Is this to be attributed to those who by their merit are the princes of the angelic choirs, to those pre-eminent ministers of God, to those who partake of the first illuminations of God, that they might be skilled in every kind of music in the singing of God's praises? But let us bring our discourse back onto the path, and let it go of its own accord whither it is directed, and let us leave the rest.
Man, therefore, formed by the hand of God C in the image of the Maker, was placed in the paradise of God. Thence, it is commanded to him there which fruits it is lawful to pluck, and which it is unlawful to touch. But as he preferred the law to a miserable taste, that same vintage which had brought forth the premature grape of transgression, likewise presented to him the immediate penalty of exile from a most pleasant place into a most miserable one. Thereafter, paradise is closed to him. In place of a key, the Cherubim were set, not unarmed, but provided with a turning, flaming sword, which I would believe to be none other than that which we praise: by this, I say, the most pre-eminent pair of intelligent celestial virtues, as it were the pinnacle and complement. To which, on account of the sharpness for cutting and the force for finishing off enemies, the name of a rhomphaia (sword) is fitting. But in nature, because it is fiery and a consumer of inferior and harmful matter, the name of flame also most aptly fits it. That it is said to be turning, I suspect means that the alacrity of the swiftest minds is most prepared for every motion of thought, and signifies the most expeditious facility and swiftest agility for whatsoever nod of the Lord. Commended by these gifts, the Archangels were enrolled in the same order with the Cherubim for the guarding of the gate of paradise, in which not only diligently [they perform...
their duty, but also wisely. For there are those to whom they permit access, and make a way; of which, indeed, the divine sect and celestial institution is that of an innocent life, separated from all stain and entirely purged from those impurities which are wont to be in the humility of slow bodies, as in a gutter its proper place. But against others, again, an insuperable wall puts a necessary obstacle; or if they persist in the audacity of advancing, a double-edged sword threatens them with immediate danger, the approach being justly denied to their greed, which was rashly hastening to pluck the forbidden tree. But as all flesh in the sight of God had corrupted its way upon the earth, and every thought was rushing with impetus toward evil, it did not seem consistent that the Spirit of God should remain in man amidst such corruption. When, therefore, that judgment sat with God, that the whole earth should be destroyed, as much as there is, and all its pride be overwhelmed, the use of these sublime powers is thought to have been employed in service to break open from above the cataracts of the heavens and to burst asunder the fountains of the abyss below. By the redundant flood of waters from which all flesh was extinguished, the one just man with his family, by the providence of the same, is deservedly believed to have been saved. Thence the Lord descends from heaven to earth. But what is this descent of his, whose presence fills heaven and earth? Or is it perhaps that the wonderful effect of new works soon to be B performed upon the earth is designated by this name in Scripture? He descends, therefore: now to divide the language of men building an insane tower through rash conspiracy to ascend to heaven; now to take the experiment of Abraham’s hospitality; then to consume the incestuous with fire and brimstone. They go as companions, Michael and Gabriel. Not that they might partake with the Lord of the fruition of that unusual and, to the customs of men then, foreign hospitality of Abraham and of the present joy, but that they might signify their diligence in performing tasks everywhere for every sign of the divine will, for every obedience. They divide the nations into languages and tribes, and the same individuals then appoint certain angels as guardians and overseers over each of these. Now, how assiduous are they in saving those whom God deemed worthy to be taken out of the common slaughter? With what force, with what care, how benevolently do they protect them, snatch them away, and finally lead them into a safe refuge? And on the contrary, how they lay waste, overwhelm, and with all atrocity thunder down upon them to whom the just judgment of the supreme Judge had decreed this deserved destruction? Abraham was thenceforth sanctified to God, on account of whom his grandson Israel is also praised. C Others, indeed, of the holy angels have been allotted the guardianship of other nations; but these, as princes and protectors of Israel, were ordained by God. Whence the birth of Isaac is wonderful and unhoped-for, for he was born by promise; so it is to be thought that his generation was managed by their prudence. And Isaac, who later was placed as an unhoped-for victim upon the altar, was snatched from the danger of the paternal sword by the voice of the forbidding angel. Which things were all designed even then as figures of a more holy sacrifice. But how, I ask, would Jacob have been a spectator of that wonderful ladder joining heaven and earth, and of the angels ascending and descending by it, or of God leaning upon it, or of the camps that appeared later to him, or of the wrestling with the divine man, from which he obtained the appellation of Israel; how, I say, would he have been deemed worthy of the vision of these things, if he were not directed and guarded by these archangelic minds? By whom D I believe Joseph was also later led into Egypt,
A and at length rose to the leadership of his people: by which influence, he attracted both his own kin and strangers and foreigners to humanity and religion, and brought them to the same worship of God as himself. After these things, the Lord again rescued Israel from the hands of the Egyptians, in a manner I believe sufficiently well-known to all. For having broken through the waters of that immense and depthless gulf, He led the people across the vast sea on dry feet. And with its very waves, He overwhelmed and destroyed the pursuing Egyptians. Having brought them after this to the rescued mountain B, He instructed them with divine voices and heavenly laws. And here, in outward appearance, Moses and Aaron alone seemed to be ministering, receiving the words of God and providing for the wonders for God and the people. But in reality, Michael and Gabriel were secretly administering all that majestic display of miracles and sound of oracles, according to the dignity of God the Legislator, to the senses of the wondering people. Therefore, what they appeared to be doing, these in truth were performing. And just as the Author of all things in His wisdom used these immediate ministers of His counsel, so too, using Moses and Aaron as certain faithful ministers of the second rank, they displayed through them those magnificent exhibitions of wonderful prodigies, which are indices of divine power. Nor was this only on the mountain or in the desert. For later, C pursuing with accustomed providence those following Joshua to the land promised to that people, preparing and strengthening the way everywhere and leading them to the rest of God, they restrain the onrush of the river, topple walls without engines, and lay the rulers of that land under dire and effective curses. Here Michael, the prince of the army of the Lord, appearing in the likeness of a man holding a drawn sword in his hand, declared who he was and commanded Joshua to remove his shoes: signifying by that act that if there was anything concrete and dull of the slow and earthly mind, it must be shaken off by one now entering into the holy land. Both of them later, that they might serve the glory of all the holier judges and kings, brought force to bear upon the elements. They compelled the heaven, with the sun and stars, at times to stand still D until the complete consumption of the impious. Sometimes, however, they reflected the course of the stars backward, with a force turned toward their own former bounds, so that by that prodigy they might confirm the promised increase of life to the faithful king. They warded off wars and protected Israel from impious nations. By a sign, indeed, or by leaving a trace, they exterminated many great satraps from the land. For if it had been without them, could Gideon have defeated myriads with three hundred? And what, I ask, could have provided such iron strength of body and sinews for Samson: or in the end, what could have enabled that to last, that jawbone of an ass, so that in such a way against the armies of the Philistines
A he might mock? Or again, was not Samuel great before the Lord from that same source? Was not David from the same source superior to all his enemies? Did not that very Elias appear more terrible than his own fire by his fiery deeds, he who was also taken up into the heavens riding in a chariot of fire? Furthermore, no other of the divine prophets stood out as more illustrious in doctrine or in deeds, to whom these, the foremost of the celestial spirits, were not guides on their journeys, and helpers in their works, and the ones who oversaw every motion and progress of all other excellent administrators, by which they directed their own charges, by occult warnings and instincts, to follow the nods of the divine will. These same ones were the authors of, and participants in, the joy of the three youths who walked harmlessly in the burning furnace, treading upon the flames as if they were a bridal chamber, and singing hymns to the Savior with a mingled sound of dances, leading them in voice and movement, linked hand in hand. Indeed, I believe it was by their doing that Jonah escaped unharmed from the belly of the sea monster, and that Daniel was preserved whole and without injury among the lions that were roaring terribly, to whom Habakkuk, in the blinking of an eye, brought a meal from Jerusalem to Babylon, a distance so great, carried by the strength and impulse of these. To him, in that same place, Gabriel openly explained the obscure designations of future events, which had been adumbrated by perplexing visions. Next, with Israel returning at last to Jerusalem from Babylon through their intervention, B they often, to speak briefly, rescued those wretched people who, having despised God and defected to gods, had been defeated and led away captive by their enemies. And whenever they invoked the divine clemency, by the operation of these sublime commanders of the heavenly militia, they were variously liberated from the servitude of tyrants and restored to their own lands, cities, and laws. To such an extent did these spirits, who are so greatly removed from the concretion of matter, show themselves active in the function of that guardianship to which they had been appointed, that they served with prompt and faithful ministry those earlier studies of the wisdom of the Parent of all.
C When, however, the incorporeal, invisible, and supersubstantial God did not merely deign to assume an aerial body for the brief appearance of a moment, soon to fly away, but rather deigned to assume the very earth itself, our clay—I mean our substance and form—Gabriel was immediately admitted to the interior knowledge of the whole mystery. For he appeared suddenly to Zacharias performing his priestly duty, and revealed to him that the Baptist would be born of a sterile womb. Then, having brought the good news of the unexpected greeting to the full-of-grace Virgin, he concluded the rest of the business of his embassy in such a way that it was agreed between them: that the Virgin would give birth to the Son of God by the Holy Spirit and the power of the Most High. When the supersubstantial One was born in the likeness of a human infant within the virgin womb, the whole heavenly host sang with joy the holy hymn of glorification; but Michael and Gabriel, following Him who was incarnate from the beginning to the end, were always present, providing timely dreams D to His parents according to the necessity of events, ministering to Him after the temptation in the desert, and during the time of the passion, strengthening Him and in a way collaborating with Him. Nor is this all, but when He was released from the body by the death of the cross, and His naked soul was penetrating the subterranean dungeons of the underworld, these attendants went before Him. They also struck the princes of darkness, who were suddenly stunned by their impact. Then, they brought forth the souls snatched from their chains to the Creator, and with all zeal accommodated themselves and their service to the pomp of His majesty and to every sign of His will. From the sepulcher then, the resurrection which occurred on the third day, to those who
A were deemed worthy of such honor by God, they were seen as they ascended to the heavens and to the Father. Then they showed themselves to the apostles in the form of two men, flying down through the open air, announcing the manner of the second manifestation of Him who had been taken up. And to the powers above, they cried out, "Lift up your gates, and be lifted up, O eternal gates, and the King of glory shall enter in." But was their ministry circumscribed by what has been said thus far? Not at all. For it will not cease from the restoration of the Only-Begotten to the right hand of His Father, until the expected consummation and that magnificent manifestation of the glory of the Son which shall occur at that time. At which time, by the performance of that final proclamation and the most vocal trumpet to be sounded by God’s command, by whose efficacious sound that which is corruptible shall be changed into incorruptibility, and every creature shall arise and stand to be judged by the Creator, they shall approve the diligence of their ministry.
But let us now recall our wandering discourse to the point from which it digressed. For after the power over all things was delivered to the Son, the message of His dispensation and the word of the Gospel spread with the most vocal sound, like the sound of thunder, throughout the whole earth. And by the providence of these spiritual powers, this was commended and confirmed by magnificent prodigies, to the extent of its greatness. For when the ancient Israel had been abandoned, because it had impiously resisted the word of the holy faith; or rather, after those from that people who had shown themselves docile to piety were received into particular patronage, and all who were beyond measure unbridled and rebellious were cast off, thus at last they rendered their long and assiduous auxiliary service to the holy preachers of the divine word for the promotion of the conversion of the Gentiles, with such success that the whole earth was most quickly filled with the knowledge of God. Yet, before this, by these same ones, as the divine Apocalypse narrates, the black dragon, the apostate, the spirit contumacious even to the point of opposing God, the foe of God, was defeated together with his angels, and cast out of the celestial seats and relegated to the abyss and to Tartarus. This, I think, is the reason for the present feast, and this is why we celebrate today the synaxis of the archangels. For at that time, having rushed together at the nod of the divine Spirit, and intellectually having clashed with the father of wickedness, they turned him into oblivion and, according to the holy Scripture, mocking him and casting him from heaven just like lightning, according to the vision of Jesus, they drove him out. But what the manner of such a war among incorporeal minds is, they themselves surely know. We, lifting up the humility of our thoughts through a likeness, have tried to sketch a certain image of this event by comparing it to the conflict of winds battling against one another in the sky. As, therefore, in these the more violent overcomes the weaker, so a certain violent conspiracy of the archangels, prevailing as it sustained the unequal struggle against the dragon, blew him in his wretchedness into chaos and darkness. Which fall of his they regarded as their own security, thus admonishing one another: Lest by the same cause we ourselves also be at some time deported into exile. But we, a pair
of spirits A of like mind, let us further taste of this joy, and let us congratulate the victory over the impious one with common applause this day. Let us follow the fall of Satan, according to the divine Gospel, as he falls from heaven, with festive gladness, and celebrating the glorious victory of the angels with public mirth, let us admit the rest of the series of things brilliantly managed by them into our oration.
By the present aid of these, the choirs of apostles, martyrs, and priests and other saints are strengthened; for they, having plucked out and extirpated the strength and boldness of impiety which had sprung up from the underworld, sowed the seed of the Word of God upon the earth. They, having joined battle at close quarters with the cruelty of tyrants and resisting them even unto blood, have abolished the profane sacrifices of demons; they themselves, however, have been sacrificed as a living host, acceptable to the God of glory. And the priests of God, having put on righteousness, have utterly cast out every contagion of heresies far from a sincere faith, and have poured forth to us a sound and irreprehensible explanation of sacred doctrine. The holy gathering of ascetics, furthermore, being armed against the law of sin, and replacing that law with the law of righteousness, rests upon the mountain of God, Zion. For since all those holy minds are, according to the great Apostle, ministerial spirits sent forth for the service of those who are to inherit salvation B in all parts of the earth, yet Michael and Gabriel excel the rest in the praise of fidelity and diligence in this administrating of spiritual governance, as much as they, having left behind them all those others in wisdom and nobility, draw nearer to the summit of all perfection, and a likeness to the divinity moves them to a dignity further above the rest than it does any others. Moreover, they always—as the divine Word speaks—behold the face of God. Just as, therefore, this very God and man, Christ Jesus, has some sitting by him on his right and on his left—those, indeed, for whom such honor of sitting together is prepared by the Father—so I say that it is these spiritual ministers who always stand by him, one on the right and one on the left, being chosen and employed for this office of daily appearance or sitting together by the eternal will of God. Using them as most familiar messengers and procurators for all things, he C governs the unity of all things by a magnificent and truly royal method of Providence. But since we have sufficiently contemplated the various functions and ministries of these incorporeal minds, come, let us henceforth consider what, finally, is their likeness to God, and what is their difference. And let us adopt this way, I think: that by the indication of names, investigating their natures, we may attend to how and what kind of likeness of nature there can be, so to speak, between those who are contained in the communion of one name yet are dissimilar. For thus, I believe, we shall perceive the force of this matter more clearly.
For there is nothing at all of all things D that is either so different from the supreme principle of all things that it does not agree in some way, or on the other hand so identical that it does not differ in any part. Thus are these things tempered with one another. In every work of God there is a sign of a certain lineament that refers back to its author; there are also notable marks for discernment. But in some things the similarity is seen to be so express that it almost buries the difference; in others, the difference stands out so that it seems to leave no semblance of similarity. But now as to our archangels, first we must...
speak of the Lord as the light that illuminates every rational and intellectual nature, the true light which, according to high theology, enlightens every man coming into this world. The lights are Michael and Gabriel, clear and shining; lights devoid of any bodily representation, bright in their nature, living and godlike. They are secondary lights, vivid images of the first Light, shining forth in the likeness of the primordial brightness, shedding beams and lightning-like flashes that dazzle the eyes of those beneath them. Again, the Lord is the Angel of the Great Counsel, the Angel who is the Son of the Father’s benevolence and philanthropy. B But what of Michael and Gabriel? Are they not angels of the Almighty Lord? Do they not proclaim the glory of God to all things that are subordinate to them in the order of nature? Do they not carry the command of the Lord to all nations? God is Spirit, and He blows where He wills, and when, and how much, escaping every sense and the edge of thought by the subtlety and thinness of His substance. Furthermore, our God is fire, and a fire that consumes all malice and is the purifier of all souls. And He was seen as a minister on earth, for He says, "I am in your midst as one who serves." But He also made His angels spirits, light and ever-moving, and effective, and His ministers flames of fire, C immaterial coals, radiant and active, breathing a purifying energy. He constitutes them as ministers and servants, not accomplishing what is desired with delay and toil, but fulfilling the Despotic counsel with a very swift and untiring momentum. And if He brought others into a likeness to Himself, much more is it to be thought that He fashioned these, the most eminent of all, into the most exact image of Himself. The Lord is Mind, incomprehensible, unsearchable, most pure. He is Mind superior to mind, the producer of minds and the observer of all things, yet comprehended by none as He is, because He surpasses every intellectual power or state. But these also are minds, pure and sincere, D and generators of good thoughts, and they perceive with the utmost accuracy all the substances beneath them; yet they themselves also flee, in imitation of God, from the comprehension of those things that are subordinate. God is Life and Life-itself, quickening all that partakes of life, but not being quickened. For what could that be which quickens the first life, the Life which is the beginning of all life? They are living beings, and would be fittingly called such, as they are joined most closely to Life-itself and are filled to overflowing with the life-giving grace coming from thence. And being formed in the same image of Life, they exist as pure likenesses of the Life-source. The Lord is Power and Energy, or rather He is Self-power and Self-energy, the empowering of all power, the energizing of all energy; a power acting as the source of power and energy for all things that have partaken of it, but itself suffering these from no one, existing as the precursory principle of all creations.
A Michael and Gabriel are powers and energies—powers, not incomplete qualities or habits tending toward activity, but living powers having their energy in conjunction with their essence. For in the case of material and natural bodies, the principle of essence according to which it exists is seen separately, and separately the innate power, which is a fitness for action, and besides these, the energy, which happens to be as it were the result of the essence, brought to perfection through the power inherent in it. But in the case of intellectual and immaterial essences, their very essence is an active power. For according to their essence they also have the ability to act; and they proceed in their activity without ceasing; so it is that these, being superior to all things that are subordinate, act with the abundance of a power befitting God over their entire activity, while they themselves are moved and empowered by that one precursory power, or rather self-energy, alone. B He is truly holy and alone good by nature, who is the source and root of all sanctification and goodness. And these, too, are holy and good. But He is so in a way unparticipated and causeless, whereas they are so by participation and receptivity, being filled with holiness and goodness by their essence being made akin to Him, such that they have become by nature, as it were, the very thing that is participated. Moreover, in addition to these, the Divinity is called wisdom, truth, justice, salvation, and the like by the divinely wise oracles. What of Michael and Gabriel? Are they not endowed with the wisdom of divine things? And are they not mediators of that wisdom from above to those who are worthy? Are they not themselves true and just before God? And are they not distributors of truth and justice to us? Have they not manifested themselves as saviors of the world—in a secondary place, at any rate, after the true Savior—to those who are being saved? Or do they not offer the prayers of the faithful to the Lord as a sweet-smelling incense, C and from thence bestow the fulfillment of things asked for unto salvation upon those who pray? Or do they not look down upon the whole face of the earth, and not least keep watch over those who persevere in this their holy temple, D and deliver them from all manner of diseases, and from all the harassment of demons, and from every harm and corruption of the body? For just as, if it be not too bold to say, whatever is observed in God by nature, these things exist in them by participation in Him; and whatever that Being fills essentially, being present to all things without division—these things they have grasped with intellectual flights, as winged minds; so too, all that that Being has the power to do, perhaps these might also have the power to do in Him.
and to share in the divine names themselves. But in all things, to speak once for all, regarding the God-befitting properties which they have shared with the Creator, one must discern the difference in such a way that for the One, it is not from another to be, or to be thus, as He is established B superessentially above all essence and stands unchangeably and eternally according to every most transcendent property; whereas for the others, not only their being, but even the mode of their being, is established by Him for their own sake, as they are being made to resemble the One who is making them. For the One is uncreated and, as one might say, self-originated, while the others are created and have obtained their being in Him. Again, the One initiates every good counsel and thought, while they, following with extreme quickness, understand; and some things they perform themselves, while others they reveal to the inferior powers, completing all things through the same joinings and cooperations. C And the One is worshipped and ministered to as God, while Michael and Gabriel, as fiery ministers or winged beings in their nature, serve the most God-ruling wills in a fiery or divine manner. But how might we, with success, contemplate their divinity and glory? For I do not think this is to be seen through long-winded discourses, but rather by a pure mind and one illuminated by the Spirit of God, so that the vision of divine beings is seen as in a mirror. Therefore, we must attend to action, or rather to the keeping of the commandments, by which purification is wrought for the flesh, illumination for the soul, and deification for the mind. But let us not neglect the contemplation that comes after discourse, D and let us apply ourselves to it as much as we have power, if we mean to attain even a moderate view of these beings. For action without discourse, and discourse without action, are similarly imperfect. The former is doubtful and melancholy, missing the grace of discourse and of illumination; discourse, on the other hand, flows idly into the air and leaves the one boasting in it empty, unless it be confirmed by action and firmly established. For those for whom the objects of contemplation become things to be done, and the things to be done have become objects of contemplation, for these it is granted to be perfect, to converse with angels, and to be illuminated by their most intellectual operations and glories. For this reason, one must engage in discourse, and one must labor in life, and that as much as possible, the former through study, the latter through ascetic practice. For by being perfected and completed in this way, and being winged by these as if by two wings, and being raised from the earth, we might ascend above the visible world, and nearing the higher, intelligible world through a better ecstasy, we might be filled with the light-shining brilliance of the other holy minds, and above a of all, this archangelic excellence and divinity. Through whom also the most God-ruling Trinity is quietly revealed, to some initiating itself as the One, and to others granting the grace to initiate others, benefiting and doing good to all by its good-working rays. But oh, spectators and ministers of the most extreme and super-essential nature that surpasses every mind and discourse! Oh, divine and fiery and intellectual spirits, most unbreakable supports of the cosmic elements, most powerful destroyers of the spirits of wickedness! Oh, sophists of the wise, oh, those of the holy...
A who fit wings so that they may fly from the earth, oh, you who are the best providers and stewards of all nations together; leaders of the angels, chiefs of the archangels, rulers among the dominions, and potentates among the powers! You who are mighty in the authorities, and lords in the lordships; those who are fellow-dwellers on the thrones, and companions of the Cherubim, and equal in standing to the Seraphim, to whom you sing the thrice-holy hymn B together with them all, or even before them all, in the thrice-holy and eternal hymns to the most holy God: fill the earth with the peace of God. Grant true harmony and God-beloved unanimity to the Churches from above, and having removed those unworthy of the body of Christ, fashion the fullness of God into one spirit and one new man. Direct our present life toward what is straight, guiding every action, thought, and word C toward the good pleasure of God; and when we depart from this much-suffering and troublesome life, do not leave us as a prize to the destructive angels of darkness. By no means, oh most divine Michael and Gabriel, do not deliver up a soul that confesses God and is dedicated to you, but having firmly cast aside those others with divine indignation, be yourselves for me good saviors and defenders, and having become most excellent guides and mediators D to the most high Christ, do not cease until you have made smooth the entrance that leads to Him, until you lead [me] into the rest of God itself, and adapt [me] to the highest of desirable things, to the glory of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, unto the ages of ages. Amen.
LAUDATION OF THE HOLY MICHAEL AND GABRIEL BY NICETAS
Let us take hold of [the subject], if indeed we aspire to some even mediocre knowledge of the intelligences. For actions that are imperfect are childish, and discourse that dwells in idleness is the same. The former is perplexed and inconstant, and somewhat sad, lacking the grace and light which are contained in doctrine and discourse. The latter, however, flows through the air with useless noise, leaving its author vain, boasting in its exhibition, unless it is confirmed by action so that it might then at last attain a solid and invincible firmness, as if best founded in the soul. But those who join these things in such a way that neither does contemplation lack action, nor does the latter, in turn, lack the companionship or aid of the former, to those it is granted both to be perfect and to use the angels familiarly: then, confusing the keenness of the senses with their subtlety and splendor, and admitting only the intuition of the mind, they are able to see most clearly. Wherefore one must strive both in preparing and instructing a ready abundance of doctrine and discourse, and labor to attain the perfection of life, and ensure that we cultivate that [doctrine] with study and meditation, and this [life] with the most diligent exercise of the religious mind. For thus, adorned on both sides and complete in all respects, carried aloft by these two wings as it were, we shall transcend this visible world, and, moved to the intelligible, nay, even carried upward beyond it by the abstraction of the mind, which is not a little more felicitous, we shall be filled with the most lucid splendors of other holy minds, and then indeed, above all others, we shall marvel at the sublimity and divinity of these archangels. To the fruit of such a vision there will be added this further benefit, that to minds exercised and prepared by such contemplation, the most divine Trinity is manifested more clearly, showing itself to be known to some in proportion to the capacity of human frailty; and to others, heaping this gift upon them with that increase, so that the private fruit being propagated for the utility of many, it grants them the power to communicate secret illuminations and the sense of mysteries to others by teaching, thus leaving no one bereft of his most beneficent illumination, but, although they are diverse, encompassing all with one benefit of His manifestation and making them blessed. But you, oh contemplators and ministers of the supreme and supersubstantial substance that exceeds all mind and discourse. Oh divine, fiery, intelligent spirits. Firmaments of the elements of the world and most solid foundations. Most powerful hammers of the malignant spirits. You who teach the wise to be wise. You who fit wings to the holy so that they may fly from the earth. Oh best presidents of all nations together, and most provident curators, tribunes of the host of Angels, emperors of the Archangels. Princes among the Principalities, powerful among the Powers, valiant among the Virtues, dominating in the Dominions, companions of the Thrones, familiar friends of the holy Cherubim, and equal to the supreme Seraphim all. Oh you who sing the trisagion hymn with them all, or before them all, with eternal and thrice-most-holy modulations to God, who is holier than all holiness. Fill the earth with the peace of God, and procure for the Churches from heaven a true and conspiring harmony in the one rite of worshiping and loving God. And having rejected the unworthy from the body of Christ, reform the multitude of the remaining faithful of God into one spirit and one new man. Direct our present life toward what is right, and require that our every action, and thought, and speech be brought to the standard of the divine good pleasure. Then, in the end, when we have departed from this wearisome and miserable life, do not leave us to the baleful angels of darkness for their great joy. By no means, oh most divine Michael and Gabriel; do not, I beseech you, do not abandon to them a soul that has confessed the praises of God, and has, in truth, humbly and suppliantly prayed to you; but indeed reject the foul demons with a threatening and angry roar, and be for me good and invincible saviors, and then the most excellent mediators and intercessors to the supreme God, Christ. And do not cease from clearing an approach for me to Him, before you have led me into the very rest of God, and having made me master of all my highest wishes, you have joined me to the supreme end of all things sought and desired, to the supreme Good, into the glory of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.
ADENDA. NOTICE
In order to provide the faithful text which we gave above in col. 361, we append the Greek text of the Monody which Nicetas Acominatus, metropolitan of Athens, delivered on his like-minded brother. It is published from the Royal codex 1234 which the catalog describes as follows: "A bombycine codex, formerly belonging to Joannes Hautin, later to Baluze, containing the A *Panoplia Dogmatica* of Nicetas Choniates Acominatus, divided into several volumes, regarding which see the noted Bernard de Montfaucon, *Palæogr.* p. 326. Of this work, highly worthy of being brought into the public light, only a part has been published in Latin. Prefixed are: 1º. The Monody of Michael Choniates, metropolitan of Athens, on the death of his brother; 2º. A fragment from the book of Saint Augustine which is inscribed the *Speculum*. This codex was written by the hand of Joannes Scutariotes in the fourteenth century." It is disfigured by many gaps arising from the fact that certain leaves, being more prominent than others due to the unevenness of the parchment, were partially worn away and lacerated by the hands of those handling the codex.MONODY OF THE ALL-HOLY METROPOLITAN OF ATHENS, LORD MICHAEL CHONIATES, ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER, THE EPHOR OF JUDGMENTS AND PREEMINENT OF THE ... LORD NICETAS CHONIATES.
O wretched news! O bitter report! Since it broke upon me unexpectedly—though not as much as the news from yesterday and the day before—it caused both ears to resonate suddenly and thunderously; the cowardly heart has been struck in the middle, and the eyes, being pressed by what they have witnessed, shed, I believe, blood-red tears such as poetry has also described in its bloody drops. It is a wonder that I was not also among those thunderstruck or—if not that—struck still, having become like some pillar, frozen speechless and utterly insensible. But even now I am moved and... B of the disaster... and having composed myself, I cry out with a groan: perhaps this also is a contrivance of retributive justice against me, so that—lest... I think, maimed and deranged in my senses—I might bear this final punishment as if unfeeling and without pain... while having my mind sound and aware of the painful, I suffer and am tortured more bitterly. Yet to be insensible and to have no consciousness of what causes pain—even if I had transformed into some pillar, whether of stone, or mythical and flowing with tears, or... whether literary and called... salt, synonymously or eponymously, upon the salt that has lost its savor, and about this... outside and trodden underfoot by men—hardly even so would I have escaped the Nemesis of Adrastia, having undergone a more exacting... this very punishment of being set forth for all time as a monument under divine wrath. Yet the present penalty is more painful by far... as it has entered into my very liver upon beholding clearly what climax of evils has come upon my wretched soul, what sort of disaster... has been introduced; how great a sum of misfortune has been brought to bear; and what further pain I shall suffer.
O my brother, dear... to me, that the chasm of old between Greece and Bithynia is long C, but by far more vast and distant, and as far as Hades is removed from the space of the living. Alas, that you were sent hence on this final voyage... of departure, and there is no return to this place. Therefore, there is no hope of seeing you, the most beloved, anymore, nor of being seen by them... the most beloved head. But who would give me death in your stead? This is what the divine David prayed for, and that too over a son... who rose up against him and sought his own soul. If that man yearned for a death of his own life, how would I not pray... to have died in your stead, rejoicing, for a brother most dear and most brotherly, and now also—for through... you were intermingled in a bond many times greater. For we were born from the same paternal seeds and maternal blood... I being the elder and the first to have passed through the gateway of birth, as I wish I had also passed first through that of death... together with others of the same lineage, and a large number. And me, the loving and book-loving father, having brought from Asia to Byzantium... already, while I was approaching the age of adolescence, he instructed in studies... he bestowed upon me grammar... and the *Chrestomathy* of the Epic Cycle; and after a sufficient time, he brought that one also, carrying him... when he was of nine years of age, and set him before me, having enjoined me to be everything to him: father, foster-father, pedagogue, and instructor... And all these things I have become to my brother, and through all these relationships I am intertwined, and the brotherly D...
A perfection I have brought to the highest stage of brotherly love. Nor did he, for his part, fail to yield to the same superiority of love, because not only did he derive benefit from me, but he also saw how, while he was nurtured under our care, he was being educated B in character and studies. When, therefore, Athens held us, and he at that time was already wielding great power in imperial matters, we... made a start in the order of doing and receiving good. For I and Athens know that we often bestowed many and great things upon him, and he gave us... not even a little. But even so, the bond of brotherly love remained robust and unshakable between us. And though sometimes—for sympathy is a loving and uniting thing—it is possible to calculate what kind of... love we have procured... even if we have not yet made a pact. We were alone, sharing with one another the sorrows of our sojourn abroad and holding dear our life as strangers... for the sake of the education gained from much sweat, which we were practicing in the arts... I was for the most part engaging with teachers and focusing on more advanced subjects, while he, being nurtured by me according to his strength, was being perfected and quietly fledging, until, through the cycle of liberal arts and sophistic training, he was able to be carried away toward higher and more solemn contemplations.
But since he reached that age of manhood in which, there being many paths in life, it was necessary to choose one... towards that end... here... B and as a lioness having just given birth looks askance at hunting hounds, so too she, if there was anything faithful and skilled in the imperial administration, looked askance at it, and with great zeal made haste to remove it. Indeed, she brought it about that many were intercepted in one place or another. Observing these things, that tyrant-hater, or, to put it more generally, the misanthrope... [saw] the man-eating tyrant or [thought of those] ministering to her bloodthirsty deeds as acting more boldly or as committing impiety. He determined to stand far from Zeus and his thunderbolt.
Hence, when the imperial court was like a tyranny and no longer accessible to those wishing to serve... he turned away and exchanged it for the study and knowledge of the legal scrolls, and for the museums of laws and offices of Themis that were being tyrannized, and truly, being studious in the reading of those things written on parchment, he inscribed them upon the tablets of his own heart, and he became a living law-book and an animate axis of legislation. Then, when the reign was changed... he returned to the tyranny... the imperial court. A thing of great value, and one that fits well in the stewardship of a state—as much as it seemed to be the opposite of the tyranny of yesterday and diametrically opposed to it.
This also merited yet another starting point, in another mode. Furthermore, he was also sent out as a governor of many cities in Thrace and as a distributor of the military forces there. But these things were a little later. When he planned to make a beginning of life with us—since I know well that it is necessary to be disposed toward both being diligent on one's own and, as in a certain small polis—in his own house, having educated the man who was to be great, C he first decided to establish a home, taking as a wife the one given by God as a helpful assistant, joined in one flesh for the procreation of children and indissoluble, and to make his conduct a priority... but how to commemorate without tears the innovation of that time... and to make a home in a more common community; the first parting of the separation has been dared... the singular unity of the brotherly relationship, divided by the choice of life, to be twofold. For I, indeed, as one from childhood consecrated to the sacred office as the first-fruit of my parents' procreation, was fitting for a life of reclusion and leisure, and to seek one thing—to contemplate the holy temple of God and to attend to no human thing, except for leisure and to be devoted to books. He, however, chose and embraced the life of one who, while the scholar and the one professing the pure contemplation of beings, engages in practical and social matters and undertakes more fields of philosophy. And that his purpose might proceed to work and be successful, he prepared himself and appropriately equipped himself, and indeed he had also handled, as if they were clever and capable tools of governance, rhetoric and legal practice, being recommended by me at first to wise and multi-learned men, and afterwards having used fortune. And fortune clung to the newly sprouting shoot of the imperial court like a bindweed strangling it—to speak figuratively—the tyranny according to Andronicus, and, indeed, it crept into the imperial court precisely when my brother was enrolled among the imperial secretaries, breathing something terrible and more misanthropic than any beast.
D As therefore he did not keep hidden that he was proposing this, how could I describe how many and how... they were eager for us? Not as many suitors as rioted about Penelope were those who, almost... were around him... Some were wooing his daughters, or even his sisters, competing with one another and zealously displaying themselves, through which each one might be able to [win] the much-contested and much-beloved bridegroom... the splendor of beauty, or both, were brought forward... [the attraction] of his mind [being] heavier... so as to provide me with troubles, the brother having been placed in a state of rivalry and entrusting the judgment to me. And he, declaring that he would choose before all else whatever we approved, having falsified [their claims].
As of a soul brotherly and trusting in me... all things that were also of our own divine will—there indeed it was most holily shown how my ward... and he was concerned about the matter of virtue. And how he deemed nothing more lovable to him than everything...
indeed, not wealth, nor any other thing; neither birth nor—but those who are unjudged and more lawful—those things within, the glory, and this in the age of such captures and movements, of fervent first principles of love of possession, and of nobility and brilliant bodies.
B For of all who were sought after and betrothed, he was, as the wealthier, more scornful, and with a great-hearted mind he was overcome only by the nobility of the renowned Belissariotai, whom the same lifestyle and community of the same instructors and lessons united and adapted as friends and companions. For he gave in marriage a sister of theirs, who was being raised and chambered with a virtuous mother, he himself being mingled with like-minded people, not so much by affinity as by sameness of character. And indeed, as siblings in soul, as siblings in body, they dwelt in the same place, sharing the same table daily, rejoicing in the same things, disliking the same things, going out together to law courts, to sacred rites, to public festivals, to the imperial palaces, and from there returning again not one by one, but escorted and adorned by one another; a bond of kinship to be envied and a blessed proximity in the mouths of all, and examples of temperance clearly... lying before them. A life indeed unmarried and unwedded was the celebrated pair of brothers; the marriage, honorable in all things and [undefiled] was to their relation, and my brother. Thus, being fused to the very marrow of the soul, as someone once said, into one...
Regarding how much the Belissariotai, as for the most part outside of the great city, were favored with goods... they conducted themselves with dignity. But my brother, even to the provinces and the cities outside, as has been said, was sent by the emperors from time to time... to perform public services. For the fickle age of the emperors... set those who were in power free, and having snatched the scepters from those who had them, gave them to others, and from them to others still. To my brother, this continuous succession of emperors preserved the things of honor and intimacy without interruption, or rather, as if competing, they always seemed to prefer him to those before them in the benevolence they held toward him, extending the things of glory. Regarding the C... of the man’s virtue, respecting it, and otherwise also, because they judged the remission of his own authority and the reduction of his own honor most excellently.
...the many, having no taste of glory and having obtained a more obscure fortune, these also gathered at the doors of the palaces... and honored the respect regarding those in power, or ran to public services, possessed by a love of gain. Others... of other fine-looking men were brought to them, bestowing great gifts upon the emperors and betrothing to themselves much more valuable... traders carrying precious pearls and emeralds and carbuncles, and they were deemed worthy of precedence in ranks, and to be adorned by him, whose exceeding virtue the emperors having learned by experience, and as being more contemptuous of gain than Aristides, and more temperate than Hippolytus, or Bellerophon and Joseph, judges...
And even the things outside they entrusted to the men, having opened the doors of storerooms and golden chambers and bedchambers, and having handed over the most beloved things as if they were most intimate. D They left the outdoor and more common administration of the city to the rhetoricians, as those who handled the nursing and the civil government. For as if adorning their own virtue like some imperial ornament... and rather, they themselves through them, they embellished it with dignities, or to speak more truly, as if some... and... in a life most brilliant to a lawful... state; such was also ancient Rome, which put forward its honorable men, and those were the tokens of the great city... while it still remained and boasted of its power, a common good lay before it... and all... to sum up, they were indeed the bulwarks of prosperity. And they were beacons and safe harbors for those shipwrecked in life.
Oh how I pass over and omit the greatest part of such virtues of men, being partly distressed by the passion which is more vehemently excited than it is soothed and laid to rest by the memory of the good things I had while they were still alive and with whom I have departed, leaving our generation desolate, and partly because I feared lest someone should sanctify the argument as if I were forgetful of the subject, and had made [my account] greater than the purse, according to the proverb...
Since, however, the new Zion C, having been left behind according to the ancient [prophecy]... and has been sacked, and as much of the fullness in it as had escaped or been devastated, migrated to Nicaea in Bithynia; here too these men also migrate, they who were yesterday rejoicing with the rejoicing citizens, today weeping with those who weep, they the same; and as they were the adorners of the city in prosperity, so they were the pre-eminent ones in this unfortunate colony. For by what they said and by how they endured philosophically and magnanimously, they did not a little console the education [of the people] and transformed the faint-hearted toward a more cheerful state. Just as also those around Ezekiel and Daniel, those who were exhausted in Babylon and saying, "Our bones have become dry; our hope has perished," they found them to be more bearable and not entirely fallen from their native land, as long as they had them alive—both pitying and encouraging them. As though the masterpieces of the city’s offerings—that which one boasts of—and the cohesive foundations of the state; for one said rightly that neither the works of builders, nor lofty houses and colonnades and markets, if they are not truly... but the nobility and decency and piety of men, which [even if] one is a visitor, even if he were to camp under an oak, he becomes a better guide, worthy of all cities—not to say that the whole world is not equivalent to him.
D All these things, as the components of a pious city, those who were present fulfilled, and although merely being seen... and the citizens... imitated the form as...
MONODY OF MICHAEL ACOMINATUS ON HIS BROTHER
A ...the customs of that place, and as it were a citadel of Constantinople, still saved and impregnable. But when the duality of those brothers, celebrated by all, was called away to the citizenship of heaven a little while before, and then my brother, who was yoked to them, having been enrolled in the circle of the same senate, was also taken up and transferred to the eternal senate, then indeed the citizens of Nicaea grew aware of their own stripping; then, being of one mind, they recognized themselves stripped of the mantle of their own glory; then, as fugitives and exiles, devoid of state and utterly lost... B Hence, they lamented more passionately, as if the city had been captured by storm, and its most precious treasures had been plundered, and there had been a complete emptying of those most blessed storehouses. Alas! What a bond of Christian society has been broken! The belt of the city has fallen; such a sequence of good things has been overturned; such a three-fold cord of excellence—which, according to the wise saying, neither affliction broke, nor the force of circumstances parted—death has loosed, the golden chain of these men, cutting and destroying them one by one. And when first the passage of the most gentle and good Michael occurred, of that easy and most simple soul, how much and what sort of things the colony of the great city bewailed! Yet it was still consoled, possessing the polymath John the Great... an ensouled image of the city and of the best commonwealth in his counsel and good sense. But when this one too, having been set before [us], followed his brother after a short time... and we mourned further on top of the remaining and third [to be] honored... for Nicetas, who had gathered all those good things of theirs into himself, my brother, [my soul] was raised in suspension, wavering with the remaining hopes. But since I lost this one too, having shipwrecked for the last time, I am now submerged by an immeasurable depth of grief, having sunk under the waves. A great mourning for Asia rose up on his account... and Europe echoed in groaning, lamenting along with it when it learned of the common loss. But if—of either continent...—any portion of those who tasted of your goodness or whose ears were buzzed by the report... lamented your death, O most beloved and most divine soul, what are we not to suffer and do in our indignation, we who for every sort of relationship, as we have said, are pressed by the kinship of blood, as kindred spirits, who still enjoyed your myriad graces to the full, and were proud and glorified in your virtue, and now, seeing ourselves suddenly deprived of the brightness that was around you, a race divided in many ways, spread throughout Asia and Greece... named and ennobled through you, who ought not now be separated and mourning each at home in private, but having gathered in one place and standing around your tomb, [could have] sung a greatly tearful and most mournful... under me, the leading wretched one and the initiator of laments, and raised a great lamentation, and [like] the camp around Joseph... C And I, a brother of much suffering and many tears, yesterday and the day before was making the subjects of other mourning for both common and personal misfortunes, and especially for that most blessed and famous [temple], which I, O holy master—as I, being thrice-blessed, trust in this sanctuary of the Mother of God, and [for it being] in need of such a protector for all time—was entrusted as a sacred place in Athens, and presiding over the spiritual altar within it, and seeing the very great and manifold divine energy constantly being brought to it—alas and woe!—I saw it being spoiled and stripped of its adornment. And I, who was planted there thirty years ago and more, being torn from the court of the Lord like a dry and barren old tree of every good thing, the Italian storm having blown more fiercely upon me, was driven now to the crashing shores or the surf-beaten crag, now cast out upon a mountain ravine before the sound of the surge. There I am thrown, an exile, dispossessed, without feast, without city, like a rustic, like some solitary, lonely owl, singing of my own and our common evils to myself. But now, that I should no longer have to weep for such things—not even that have I forgotten. And that death of the most beloved head, coming upon us, like the tenth plague of the Egyptians, the destruction of the firstborn, drew all mourning, every sad melody, the whole and entire sum of tears into itself. For it seems that those former things were cast before me by Him who makes smooth the path of His anger, as a sort of training ground of chastening circumstances, but this, [the death of my brother], He has brought as the greatest and final struggle, and not at all free from danger. ...those were of superficial and not very difficult-to-heal wounds to me... and reaching the depths of the soul, or perhaps it went further... I, noticing the conflagration and being provoked to tears of the eyes, and the fire burned upon that sorrow, but now the burning and more lasting coals of the fire of punishment have been ignited, which I do not think will ever be extinguished for me or the heart-felt blood will ever cease, so that the tear itself has failed me, whether due to the water in my head being exhausted by the evils that have already come to pass, or due to being wounded more now, like grass, and my much-suffering heart being completely withered, so that from this, neither does a stream of tearful, mournful words flow forth from it, as much as the magnitude of the passion wishes, nor can it ever become a companion to the irrational [grief] stirred in the soul.
A Necessity, therefore, compels me to bear with unsoftened eyes and inexpressible sighs the unbearable burden of anguish, and to exhaust the brief span of this wretched life with him with whom I shall also die; and I shall lie, I know not where, cast into the deeps of the earth or the abysses of the sea, and I shall be set before my brother, the elder before the younger, the last old man before him who stood [upright] and was an old man in spirit.
Unattainable and inscrutable divine Providence, you who steer both divine and human affairs with ineffable words, how are you to be navigated in the abyss of your judgments? For the mind will allow itself to be stung, even if it be most philosophical in resolving bonds and announcing what is held fast. For I am carried away, being goaded by the passion, to utter something risky and rash. Why is the white-haired man, that futile burden of the earth and bearer of a heavy old age, even a painful sore—a burden, I say, to which all the disasters of nature have converged—left behind still to this day... of the earth... to the universe, and no longer a sight pleasant to the sun? But he who had not yet reached the threshold of old age, who was more worthy to live a very long time, as he was a savior of wife and many children, and a shiner of his race, and a great benefit to the world, and a crown of glory and boasting to me, and the bond of life itself—was he snatched away before his hour, I say, to the detriment of others, of the ten-thousands and of so many preceding generations? For the good was not only another’s, as the wise define the just man, but it was also ours.
Where now are those who are kin by birth and those who feigned kinship, who used to approach him and speak to him about kings... and used to receive their requests more quickly and freely, and return home rejoicing? And the majority knew more gratitude to him through whom and from whom they had received benefits, and all did not even come to his sight at times.
Come, all of you, and joining in the lamentation, join your praises for us to my wails, so that we may make the memory of this just man with praises, and not only weep (for it is fitting for both; for the death of a just man indeed calls for tears, leaving behind a grievous regret, while the memory [of him] is interwoven with praises by those who emulate virtue)... B of an achievement incomparable to the ancients. Heracles once rescued Hesione, who had been exposed to a sea-monster, and likewise Perseus rescued Andromeda. But they were armed and held forth iron against the beasts and engaged them, and thus betrothed the maidens to themselves. But he, unarmed, went to close quarters with an armed beast, and having scorned all such deceptions and pretenses—this man, who was truly sincere and guileless—restored the maiden to her father untouched.
Simeon and Levi delivered their sister from those who had violated her, but only after [her] defilement and insult, and with difficulty, and through a crooked, perverse path, and after ten thousand murders and the destruction of a whole city, so that one cannot even compare them to him who brought back the taken maiden by a word alone, bloodlessly, pure, and unviolated. I know, indeed, that of Abraham the good man, who was taken in through faith, but I would confidently say that this man was far more blameless than the patriarchs of old, inasmuch as Abraham told Pharaoh earlier, and Abimelech later, that Sarah was his sister, not his wife; and just as Isaac, being fearful and cowardly, called their wives sisters, lest they be killed because of them, but this man did not call the maiden his wife—though not yet even a woman—and drew her to himself, taking ownership, and not wavering even if it were necessary to die. And if Daniel saves Susanna by persisting against the violent lovers and lawless judges, yet he sat as a judge first, and separated the violent men from one another, and questioned them in turn, and by catching them out through their own words, ordered them to be stoned, and thus delivered the chaste woman from the lawless sentence. But my ornament, this man of our own time and desires, did not judge like Daniel, but by indicting the enemy for violent adultery, and not by pretending like those around Abraham that the sister was someone else’s, nor even by lying like David about the epilepsy—but he outwitted and repelled the abusive man, who was wiser than the man who had not yet known her and braver than the husband. Thus our stories are by far more venerable than those of long ago, inasmuch as they superabound according to Christ and the justice of the Law. For just as Christ gave himself up for the Church, even though the Church was not yet in existence nor yet wedded to Christ, because Christ died for us while we were yet sinners, C as the Apostle says—and she herself, as she is still lying there [covering] the shame of impiety—"I am black," she says somewhere, "O daughters of Jerusalem"—so also did my brother, for the sake of one who was not his wife, nor even entirely likely to be, run risks, and to the maiden’s guise... appeared as a father in deed, and a father much more affectionate and savior-like than the one who begat her. For that one, when [the city] was left to the besiegers, went off fleeing, but this man stood by [the maiden] while she was being led away to outrage and slavery, and risked his own life to deliver her from the ultimate evils.
O most wise brother, truly into the kingdom of
A heaven you have been trained; wherefore your tongue also, like the pen of a ready scribe, B quickly wrote down the freedom of the captive; nay, but also your lips [were as] a scarlet thread. For by a word, tightly knit and brief and heated by zeal, you did restrain the hands of the barbarian and his violent onslaught, and your lovely speech, not prematurely lying about the man, but formed for the occasion, and writing down the violent one as lawless. O how did you endure—you who had never before lied? For you have loathed a lie as equal to death. Or is it clear that just as you chose to die, if need be, for the salvation of a man in danger, so you endured both to lie and to become a liar—you, the lover of truth—and never defiled your lips with lies? And you did this, I suppose, according to the zeal of Christ, who for our sake became sin and a curse, and thus became all things to all men, a protector to the unprotected, a guardian to widows, a husband to the fatherless, a brother to the poor, a most faithful lover to friends, a most intimate lover to kinsmen, and to your brother, in an surpassing degree, a lover of brotherhood. C Therefore, it was not necessary that his wife should suffer such widowhood, or his children such orphaning, at an untimely hour (for it occurs to me to drivel again), nor that I, his brother, should fall away from the rest of the solace from him and draw a more miserable and arduous life, by as much as he, while living, made my own light and easy before. For if he were not present and with me, but I was merely satisfied to live, I would catch my breath from him as if breathing some life-giving breeze. And as the divine David says that he was once refreshed by denying his own soul, and by remembering God immediately to rejoice; so I too, being vexed by the present painful things, if ever any report was sent to me touching upon his brotherly memory, and announcing that he was still alive and doing well, I would find immediately a certain wonderful consolation. But if I should ever receive a letter from his beloved soul and hand, then, then I would imagine that most sweet and pleasant vision, and I would think that I was holding and embracing that self-same brotherly head, and my soul, which was engulfed by grief like a cloud, would suddenly yield as if some wonderful clearing [of the air] had broken forth, and the light of sweet-mindedness would shine around me. D Now, however, at his death, the pangs of Hades encompass me, and a deep and deathly darkness of despair casts its shadow, since my sun has set once and for all. O what a sacred anchor I have cast away, which formerly provided for him, while he was steering the Church at Athens, to overcome every surge; now, however, as I am carried by many channels of waves and am drowning, he was holding up my soul and keeping me in life. For it is the remainder of a life unworthy of him, and I was reluctant to obey death, which had long been calling me. But now, since she is gone, what is this living to me, or how shall I be able not to sink already down to Hades, overwhelmed by all sorrows? For to this, it seems, my miserable life is extended, so that I may pay longer penalties and through all painful things show myself [as I am], and from the cup of unmixed wine which is in the hand of Christ, may drink often as all the sinners of the earth. But since now I have also emptied the dregs, [and] have drunk them up with him, I am already departing to the debt, having almost drained all the penalties in [this] mortal body.
Yet I do not depart cheerful and rejoicing, from here as if I shall certainly find some good change for the cessation of living. For I am fearful of the creeping terror, lest, departing, I shall be subject to heavier accountings, having lived a life not blameless. And that is indeed terrible, but it is much more terrible if I shall be separated there from my brother, but [rather] by a greatest and more grievous chasm, which is fixed between the place of those who are tormented in Hades and the lot of the blessed and happy men; into which I have believed, however, that my brother has changed, knowing how he ordered his own life, directing it toward the archetypal patterns of those [men], and how, while still spending time on earth, he thirsted, as was possible, to be with those [holy men] and to rejoice together, collecting the remains of their holy bodies and their impressions, and being settled with them and venerating them with the highest honors. For there was not one of all the righteous men written in the whole cycle of the days of the year who was not festively lauded on the day of his commemoration, he himself sacrificing spiritually, and gladdening with hymns and all-fruits of first-offerings of the seasons. For he did not love to celebrate publicly, if he could not also perform his devotion in his own private church to each honored righteous one, so as to rejoice at the annual voice, and at the salvation in the dwelling, and that the psalmic [prayer] of that righteous one might be continually heard. I know well, therefore, that because of these things he arrived among friends, and entered into the same eternal dwellings with them, and was partaker of the infinite blessedness. He intercedes, I suppose, also for us, being bold, both for other things and as a lover of brother, thus, [he who was] cleansing the polluted, as a refining fire and as washing herbs, and [he shall] cleanse us through the trials here as if through fire and water, and lead [us] out into the same refreshment, and having justified [us] through the Virgin, he shall give [us] to dwell upon the same, and in the place of the dwelling to be marveled at eternally.
THEODORUS LASCARIS, SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DUCAS, ON NATURAL COMMUNION, SIX BOOKS
(These works appear in Greek for the first time from the Royal Manuscript codex 2004, regarding which the Catalog states: "A parchment codex in which are contained the six books of the Emperor Theodore Lascaris on Physical Communion, not yet edited in Greek; this codex seems to have been written in the thirteenth century." Claude Aubery translated [them] into Latin and edited [them] under this title: "The six books of Theodore Ducas Lascaris, son of the Emperor Caesar John Augustus, on Natural Communion, filled with admirable philosophy, now first brought to light and translated into Latin by Claude Aubery of Triencourt, from the library of the distinguished J. Sambucus. Basel, in the year 1561, in 8º (Imperial Library, Paris, R. 1755).")
GENERAL HYPOTHESIS OF THE SIX SERMONS OF THEODORE DUCAS ON NATURAL COMMUNION
Compiled by Claude Aubery of Triencourt.
All things are contained by a certain single bond of society. And I would wish this to be said not only of those things which fall under the senses and consist of elements, but also of intelligences or minds, of souls, of the powers of spirits, of men themselves among one another, and finally of the entire doctrine of the liberal and noble sciences and arts. For if anyone carefully looks at the genera of things, he will perceive what we have said without any difficulty. And so that we may start from those things which do not escape our senses, those who have spent any effort in the study of philosophy know that all things are contained and united by the power of nature, which indeed, as a minister of the best and greatest God, is the principle of motion and rest in natural things. Nature, therefore, is in this elementary world as a center, in which all natural things are united—not only those which we call simple bodies, but also composite and mixed ones, and thus singular things themselves; so that in this way it may be true what those ancients said, albeit obscurely: that the many are one and the one is many. And first, indeed, the celestial orbs encompass this universe, and by their own motion they stir these lower things. Next follow the four elements, which conspire among themselves with a friendly proportion; they go and return into themselves, and arise among themselves and from one another. Then, from the four elements, the rest are composed, first those which are called mixed, such as stones and metals. Corresponding to the four elements are the humors in herbs and plants, in the bodies of living creatures, and indeed in the most excellent animate body of man, [the] four humors: yellow bile, black bile,
blood, and phlegm; so great is the force of nature in the temperaments of natural things. But now let us come to a more secret consideration. In animate beings lacking reason, there are, as it were, three faculties: a certain ardor of anger, a certain desire; and in the reasoning soul, that which ennobles the imagination, then B *thymos* (spirit) and *epithymia* (desire), which two are more noble in that they have reason as their moderator and governor. These three, *logos* (reason), *thymos*, and *epithymia*, as they are the essential attributes of the human soul, do not admit of tension and remission. For in respect of *ousia* (essence), Socrates is not more *logikos* (rational) than Plato, nor more *thymikos* (irascible), nor more *epithymikos* (desirous). But by reason of the union of the soul and the material of the physical, organic body, these powers are said to be C *ousiodeis* (essential qualities), and hence they do admit of tension and remission: so that this one is said to be more *logikos*, more *thymikos*, and more *epithymikos* than that one. Thus an excess of yellow bile renders a man more *thymikos*. An excess of phlegm makes a man less *thymikos* than is appropriate. An abundance of blood renders a man more *epithymikos*, and sometimes also more joyful. Black bile makes a man more melancholy. Furthermore, *logos*, and especially the practical D intellect, by the intervention of the imagination, makes use of the senses as instruments. Therefore, in respect of quality and power, it does not receive *ousiodes* tension and remission, so that one is said to be more *logikos* or less *logikos* than another; and sometimes the same person is said to be more *logikos* than himself, not by reason of an essential power, but because of a better state of the physical body. For when the brain is cleared, especially when it is agitated by noxious humors, someone may be rendered more apt for reasoning. And since the four humors in human bodies have the greatest power, as is evident, the combinations of *logos*, *thymos*, and *epithymia* are not without reason connected with the combinations of the four humors, namely yellow bile, black bile, blood, and phlegm. If anyone should diligently investigate these combinations, he will find ninety-two, even without counting the simple combination, nor that which corresponds to the simple. For seven other combinations which, in unity alone, admit of tension and remission, have no or an obscure use, which, however, if they are added to the simple and the ninety-two, constitute one hundred combinations. From which is understood the reason for the *sympatheia* (sympathy) and *antipatheia* (antipathy) of men among themselves, which arises from the union of the soul and the physical, organic body. But let no one think that we attribute the cause of all depravity to an evil temperament of the physical, organic body. For how the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not, it is not our place to show at present. For this discussion pertains to the supreme theology. And since in a commonwealth the ends most excellent are the ends of the *architektonikon* (architectonic), and there are *architektonikoi* (architects) such as emperors, kings, princes, and magistrates, it must be seen and taken care of primarily that education, *koinonia* (communion), and the rule of life of *architektonikoi* men be referred to the *architektonikon* end. For such as is *sophia* (wisdom) among all the sciences, such is *phronesis* (prudence) in political virtues. And as certain sciences on account of their nobility and accuracy stand closer to wisdom; so too certain arts and sciences, the use of which is viewed in the commonwealth, stand closer to the *architektonike*, such as the military art and medicine. For, as our author says, "three communions are most appropriate for a ruler: philosophy, military matters, and medicine, with their own specific characteristics." The same had said shortly before: "The king does not possess communion with the stone-cutter, but he admits him; so that to admit is a matter of someone, and not of the whole communion; for where the name of communion is laid down, it signifies the agreement of those who participate." Furthermore, wisdom stands as far above prudence as the mind stands above the soul. Therefore, Aristotle also said divinely in the sixth book of his Ethics: "But yet [prudence] is not the mistress of wisdom, nor of the better part, just as medicine is not [the mistress] of health; for it does not make use of it, but sees how it may come to be." Then he adds the most true sentiment: "For the sake of that [namely, wisdom] it commands, but not that [wisdom]." Finally, he most sharply mocks those, if any happen to be found, who through rash judgment might dare to prefer prudence to wisdom: "Furthermore," he says, "it is as if one should say that the political art rules over the gods, because it gives orders concerning all things in the city." From which it is understood that wisdom is the queen of all sciences and of all arts, especially since prudence itself administers all things for her sake. Therefore, Aristotle said, "If the Intellect is something divine in comparison with man, then also the life according to the intellect is divine in comparison with human life." Nevertheless, it is certain, as the most learned M. Tullius said, that all arts and all sciences are contained by a certain common bond of society. From which arises the communion of the wise among themselves, and likewise of those learned in the sciences; finally, of craftsmen, according to that which is more and less. For the governor of a commonwealth will strike up communion and society with a leader of an army or with a physician sooner than with a cobbler. And a wise man will establish communion with a prudent man sooner than with a craftsman. In the same way, one must judge of the rest. Thus far, therefore, concerning the communion of the elements and of things composed from the elements, and consequently concerning the communion of men among themselves. But since the communion of things among themselves is seen most of all in the coordination of figures, it must be known that the orbicular figure is most adapted for containing and encompassing, because indeed it is, of all figures, the most capacious, the most stable, and the most ordered. Therefore, the celestial orbits obtain this figure. After the orbicular, we place the square figure. In the third place consists the equilateral triangle. Wherefore, of all mundane figures, the orbicular is by far the most excellent for the reasons which we have brought forward, and for many others which Plato and Aristotle adduce. But in the origin of things, other figures have a place because *genesis* (generation) in the first place is fitting. But because things in that orbicular figure in a certain way attain their perfection, therefore thus according to the unfolding of generation the elements themselves and the things which are from the elements
constantly stand, and endeavor to imitate the excellence of that orbicular figure. It remains that, having diligently considered these things, we see with whom we should enter into companionship. Wisdom cries out: "My son, withdraw from the path of the wicked, tread the thresholds of the wise:" and the most wise Paul asserts with Menander that by the company of the wicked, good morals are depraved and corrupted. Wherefore, let those who are in the administration of the republic as A architects see with whom they form communion, lest they unwittingly turn into Neros and Heliogabaluses, and be monsters rather than men. Finally, let individual men in the republic diligently observe these same precepts for their own mode of life and character, so that we may all at length attain true happiness.
SYNOPSIS OR THE REPEATED HYPOTHESES INDIVIDUALLY OF THE SIX SERMONS OF THEODORE DUCAS, BY THE SAME AUTHOR
OF THE FIRST SERMON.
In the first sermon he shows that all things are one on account of nature, and again that individual things are divided among themselves, and distributed in nature: nor is there anything from natural things outside of nature. From which it is understood that nature is common to all natural things, and in it the general mode of communicating is situated. Then, that within nature the distributions of temperaments consist, and through temperaments in a secondary way things communicate among themselves. These two modes are primarily to be observed by us. He adds further that through temperaments things are not united absolutely, but according to more related properties. And since, as Socrates says, "The eye of the soul, B being blinded and buried by other pursuits, is by nature adapted to be rekindled and awakened by learning alone," he therefore shows both modes of communicating in numbers and figures. For just as the point, as Proclus relates, "explains every series, and makes all things one, and binds together, and defines their progressions, and brings them forth, and encompasses all things," so also does nature unite, contain, and terminate all parts of natural things. And as a circle encompasses a figure of many angles, so also does nature contain the multitude and variety of natural things.OF THE SECOND SERMON.
In the second sermon he treats of the communion of the elements, which communion or union he teaches to be such that it is "whole to wholes throughout all, and not in any parts." He shows also how, according to harmonic ratios, the elements communicate among themselves, namely according to the double, the sesquialteral, and the sesquitertian ratio. Then he passes to the temperaments and mixtures of those things which consist of the four elements. And first he treats of the temperaments which are perceived in inanimate things, as in metals and stones. Then he passes to the temperaments of those things which seem both animate and inanimate, of which kind are plants. Thirdly, he arrives at the temperaments which are perceived in animals.OF THE THIRD SERMON.
Since man is that most excellent animal, in which nature has gathered all the modes of communion, it was worth the effort to treat of the temperaments of men. He therefore discusses these most accurately in this book: which he asserts to be ninety-two, besides the simple one and that which corresponds to the simple. Galen, lib. 1 C *De temper.,* wisely advises that one should begin from a well-tempered constitution, unless one wishes to be led into error. For if you compare other temperaments with the well-tempered one, you will find without any difficulty what exceeds or falls short in any one of them. Wherefore, we must first speak of those which are considered as simply tempered or intempered constitutions. That is simple which has neither intension nor remission, but has those seven A B C, and besides E F G H, equally. But since a constitution of that kind is rarely found to be most perfectly equal, therefore that constitution which approaches most nearly to this most perfectly equal one will be in the first place desirable. "That man is most temperate," says Galen, "who in the habit of his body is midway between thinness, thickness, hardness, softness, and likewise heat and cold." The same [is true] in mind also...C He is also spirited, fond of friends, humane, and prudent; and since comparison has a place in these conjunctions, we must circumspectly see what we are comparing with what.
FOURTH DISCOURSE
Since the power of tension and relaxation has a very great use in conjunctions, as was demonstrated above, in this fourth discourse he proves most accurately that tension and D relaxation—that is, intension and remission—belong to quality, and not to substance or quantity. "But the more and the less," says Aristotle, "admit of quality. For the whiter is said to be more or less white than another," etc. In this discourse, he also teaches that things are said to be similar and dissimilar because of quality. "But similar and dissimilar," says Aristotle, "are spoken of with regard to qualities alone; for one thing is not said to be like to another in any respect, but only insofar as it is of a certain quality." But why these things? Certainly so that we may know that intension and remission, similarity and dissimilarity, have a place in the enumerated conjunctions, not by reason of substance, but by reason of quality, which we also noted above.
FIFTH DISCOURSE
In the fifth discourse, he discourses most gravely and wisely concerning the fellowships of men with one another. "It is fitting for man," says Galen, "to be most wise." Elsewhere he teaches that he who is well and equally tempered is prudent. But since a similarity of temperaments joins and associates men with one another, the more preeminent the association, the better it is. Furthermore, here again there are two modes of communicating that we must diligently observe. One is according to wisdom, the other is according to political prudence. This distinction is elicited from the distinction between wisdom and prudence, which distinction is assigned by Aristotle in many places, and then in book X of his *Ethics*, in these words: "But prudence is yoked to the virtue of moral character, and this [virtue] to prudence, since the principles of prudence are according to the moral virtues, and the rectitude of moral matters is according to prudence. But these are yoked to the passions, and would be about the composite, whereas the virtues of the composite are human, and the life according to them and the happiness [are also human], but that of the Intellect is separated." Concerning political communion, the same Aristotle [speaks] in book VIII of his *Ethics*, in which place he elegantly distinguishes the political communities according to each of the constitutions.
SIXTH DISCOURSE
In the sixth, he compares science with art, and nature with temperament, and teaches that art is related to science just as temperament is to nature. Furthermore, he warns that nature and science must be conjoined, so that science may, as it were, inform nature. Finally, he establishes a certain order, from which we shall be able to recognize that which is "more or less ordered," that is, more or less according to nature and science. To accomplish this, he uses mathematical comparisons of figures, and teaches that the spherical figure is above all others, then the square figure, and finally the equilateral triangle. What, therefore, is in mathematical figures as the spherical figure, is in human affairs the conjunction of wisdom and prudence with nature; and what in those is the square figure, in these is the conjunction of science with nature. Finally, what in those is the equilateral triangle, in these is the conjunction of art with natural temperaments. Concerning the preeminence of the spherical figure, Aristotle [says] in *On the Heavens*, II: "Every plane figure is either rectilinear or bounded by a circumference; and the rectilinear is enclosed by several lines, the curvilinear by one. Since, then, that which is in the one of the many and the simple of the composite is prior by nature in every genus, the circle would be first among plane figures," etc. But if anyone should dare to criticize our author's act of mixing mathematics with physics, Proclus will reply: "Mathematics contributes the most to physical theory, revealing the good order of the accounts according to which the All has been demiurgically crafted, and the analogy that has bound together all things in the world, as Timaeus says somewhere, having made the warring things friendly and the separated things accessible and sympathetic, and having shown the simple and first-born elements to be bound together everywhere by symmetry and equality." Furthermore, I cannot be induced to believe that what are said in the final part of the book regarding the triangulation of the circle belong to our author, both because they are added beyond the set debate and also because they are puerile. For these words, "Let the segments arising from the circumference of the circle and the sides of the triangles be equal to the two triangles..."—what do they have other than a "childish begging of the question," as Aristotle speaks? An argument is then added which betrays a lazy mind—"for sense-perception itself also declares it"—when there is need of demonstration. For which reason I believe these things were added by a certain Greekling; which fact anyone can conjecture without any difficulty from the series of the context.
OF THEODORE LASCARIS, SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DOUKAS: ON NATURAL COMMUNION, FIRST DISCOURSE
A Men understand from many matters and otherwise that which is by nature is superior to that which is by position—indeed, it excels even that which comes by fortune—and from these things they can also discern those which I now hasten to speak of; and no one would say that this same thing could be otherwise than what the natural and true consequence which will be demonstrated by me this day presents. Now, nature exists, and motion exists in nature; likewise, distribution exists. For with Aristotle, Pythagoras, Hermogenes, and Homer, the division is held in common, just as points are measured by points and numbers by numbers. For to motion are assigned parts of motion, and to the parts there is a difference; and their entity is not position, but a quality according to nature—just as motion is not nature itself, but rather nature is the principle of motion, and also holds and rules over rest itself. And so nature moves all things absolutely and individually, connecting the one to the other by properties [and] by distribution, whenever parts might be taken naturally according to property, as in fire the burning and illuminating properties, and in other things their own proper characteristics. Is, therefore, the principle of aquatic things not the principle of terrestrial things, nor the principle of their motion that of the latter’s motion? And is the principle of figures not lines, nor the principle of lines figures, but rather a point for both? If this is so, then does the motion from nature consist in lines and points? For it is not the nature of figures B itself, but that which has been moved from a natural principle. Thus, since all other things are alike, and these first principles are known, it is much more the case that what is according to nature is superior; for nature, which is beyond all things, does not entirely produce as a principle the things subsequent to it for us, but that there is here both motion and distribution into differences is manifest. For motion distinguishes Aristotle and Homer according to the moment. For if A passes through B to reach C, it passes through in continuous motion, and the remainder is distinguished—the point A toward C by way of B, through which there is continuity, for it is connatural to them; and this is motion.
A And so, for Aristotle and Homer according to temporal motion. In motion, then, there is a continuity subjected to division by time, or by mode, or by the quality of that which is moved, as for instance the mind relative to what is winged. B In nature, however, there are divisions of temperaments according to what is other and different and otherwise. Yet in temperaments, division is not distribution—as is the case for division in nature—but distribution is communion, which might seem absurd to some. For just as the communion of composite things formed from simple ones is a division of the parts, so too is the communion of temperaments a division of temperaments. There, division is common distribution; here, however, division itself is communion, since it is a division of particular subjects. For if someone were to divide from the first element α to the last ω, he does not unite the parts by division; but if we take the distribution of three parts, we are instead taking the union of the parts; so that in nature division is union, while according to temperament, union is rather division. By the same token, then, those things that are divided by nature—whether by time, or place, or quality—are not divided according to nature (for nature is common to all), but according to the distribution of temperaments, with nature nevertheless prevailing; for temperaments, as particulars, contribute to other temperaments insofar as they are temperaments, since these too are particulars, though not every temperament is in every temperament. For the musical is natural, just as the trade of a tanner is in nature; let the tanner then be musical, or because philosophy is of nature, and poetry is from nature. Let Aristotle then be Homer, or because motion is so. C In nature there is the station of nature; let station then be motion; yet it cannot belong to them; for it is simply absurd for temperaments to be joined, but specifically it is found: for that which is unifying in another (white and yellow, and the musical kinship of the arithmetical, and the philosophical of the theological, and the poetic of the rhetorical, and the station of the temperate, and the motion of the courageous—likewise also the fuller of the tanner, and other things with others) is naturally related by its property. 2. There are, then, two modes of unification: that according to nature and that according to temperament. One is therefore common to all, for all things commune when they are brought back to quality, or to essence, or to form, or to matter, or to nature—properly and universally, yet partially and specifically, and not insofar as it is quality, or insofar as it is essence, or insofar as it is form, or insofar as it is matter that it unites, but insofar as it contributes something to something; and the elements commune insofar as they are of nature, and water does not destroy fire, nor do other non-congenial things, but because water flows into a particular fire, it greatly destroys that particular fire within it; for opposites are destroyed by their opposites, and there are places where drugs, according to the property of bodies and temperaments, both commune and benefit, and others where they destroy because they are alien to them. However, even in metals communion is found, and in other things again separation, and there was nothing new in this, if indeed the points on a line are not altogether united by continuity; for the first is not united to the third except through the second. D For if we take the distribution of three parts, we rather take the union of the parts. Wherefore that division which is constituted by the principle of nature is a union. But that union itself which is effected according to temperament is rather a division. From this it is understood that those things which are by nature and are constant, when they are divided by time, mode, or quality, are not divided according to nature (for nature is common to all), but according to the distribution of temperaments, with nature nevertheless holding the primacy. For temperaments are compared as particulars in that a temperament is composed with other temperaments, since they themselves are also particulars. But not every temperament [can be composed] with every temperament. For that which is musical in nature would also be a tanner in nature: let it be, therefore, a tanner
A in the same way with the rest, or even with the solid, if not by nature alone its endings are united, but also by temperament; for the continuity of the cube, although not natural with respect to the surfaces, is yet united naturally by number.
3. Let there be, therefore, a six in it, and likewise an eight; and let there also be a point to which all the lines look, both those from the inclinations and those from the equal lines. Let a straight line be drawn from the inclination a to the point b; likewise, let another straight line be drawn from the inclinations on the same surface, namely the ge, to the same point b. According to the same logic, let straight lines be drawn also from the other parts of the cube to the point b. Let all the lines be numbered, and let the point be added to these lines, and let them be counted, and let the point be added to these, and they will of necessity form a circle. Since, therefore, from all the parts of the cube, the straight lines to the point b, together with the point, are referred to a circular numbering, there is, therefore, a natural continuity of the parts in the cube according to number. Let the cube also be cut into surfaces, and let the six be the flat surface; let the number be multiplied, and again let this be multiplied, and it will be found as a is to b, and b is to c; therefore, its parts are also found according to surfaces in a circular numbering that is continuous. B And since the harmonies according to every part of it C are referred to a circle—and the circle is more natural than other shapes, and of one kind, and not mixed, and simple, and not from many parts—it is absolutely necessary to understand the continuity of the cube according to natural number, since it is reduced to circles.
4. Let it be considered, therefore, also according to continuous surfaces, and the other parts of the cube [with] the straight lines of the straight lines to point b, let them be numbered, and let all these too be joined with the point, and they will of necessity make a circle. Since, therefore, from all the parts of the cube the straight lines to the point b are referred to a circular numbering, it is, therefore, according to number that there is a natural continuity of the parts in the cube. Let the cube be cut into surfaces, and let the six be the flat surface, and let the number be multiplied, and let this [product] be multiplied again, and it will be found that as a is to b, so b is to c. Therefore, its parts are found also according to surfaces in a continuous circular numbering. Since the harmonies according to every part of it D are reduced to a circle—and the circle is more natural than other shapes, and of one kind, and not mixed, and simple, and not from many parts—it is absolutely necessary to understand the continuity of the cube according to natural number, since it is reduced to circles. Let it be considered, therefore, also according to continuous surfaces, and [see] whether these same parts have continuity among themselves, and what kind, and how. Let it be...
considered, therefore, also according to continuous surfaces, and [see] whether these same parts have continuity among themselves, and what kind, and how. Let there be, therefore, a cube A *a b g d e z*; let *a* be extended as far as each of its [sides]—namely *b* and *g*—and *d* towards *b* and *g*, and *e* towards *a b g d*, and *z* likewise towards *a b g d*. These, therefore, are united according to their inclinations, but their positions and unions are circular, just as in the case of the numbered lines, but they are angled and have inclinations. For the whole *A* [is joined] to the whole of *B*, and this to the whole of *G*, and this to the whole of *D*, and *E* to the whole of *A B G D*, and *Z* likewise to the whole of them, *A B G D*. It is evident, therefore, from this that they touch, but they do not turn back into themselves in a circular or natural way. Let the surfaces, therefore, be cut through the whole thickness of this cube, and let all the parts be taken together according to proportion and equality. Let the diameter *A* be set out to *G*, and *B* to *D*, and *E* to *Z*. Let there be, then, that which follows *A* as *H*, and that which follows *G* as *Th*, and that which follows *B* as *I*, and that which follows *D* as *K*, and that which follows *E* as *L*, and that which follows *Z* as *M*; and again, that which follows *H* as *E*, and that which follows *Th* as *X*, and that which follows *I* as *O*, and that which follows *K* as *P*, and that which follows *L* as *R*, and that which follows *M* as *S*. Let there be set, therefore, *a* towards the *b g* surface; let it be cut into eleven parts; likewise also *d* towards the *a g* surface, [cut] into eleven parts, each one and each one, B similarly. Let it be cut into eleven parts, namely *a b g d e z*; and let *h th i k l m* be cut into nine parts; and let *e z o p r s* be cut into seven parts, and let them be joined again in reverse order—*n : s :: x : r : o : p : h : m*, let it be *k : a : g :: b : d :: z*—and the cut cube is constituted again when it is cut. Therefore, a cube is found, and when it is composed and united, a cube is again found. For as *a b g d e z* is to *h th i k l m*, so is *h th i k l m* to *n x o p r s*, each having a proportional excess over the other. But if anyone should attempt to cut the cube into more or fewer sections according to the same proportion into continuous surfaces, he will find the same things, and it will be a cube by its base.
5. It was shown, therefore, as was necessary, that there is a twofold continuity in the cube: that which is circular and that which is hexahedral. Let there be, therefore, that which is according to the circle and is numerable and natural, C and that which is according to the other figure [be] according to blending and mixture. The mixtures are blended, and figures possessing angles have the appearance of mixture; for this reason, the figure of the cube, inasmuch as it is cornered, is mixed. But if anyone should say that this also is of nature, and the circle is of nature, and that they communicate according to it, I will not reject it; for in nature, inasmuch as they are of nature, all things are joined together, just as the lines coming from the circumference of a circle into the center D [are joined].
It must be understood, therefore, from what we have said, that every temperation relates to nature, namely, in a particular way, because it is mixed. For nature is predicated of all things, but temperation is never said of nature universally. For let A be an indefinite surface, and B, C, D be definite; certainly the indefinite A will never provide gnomons to the definite B, C, D. But these indeed provide it with gnomons. For every figure endowed with a gnomon contains the gnomon within itself; for the gnomon cuts and distinguishes. Therefore, nature will be predicated of every temperation, and will receive all singular things according to temperation, and will recall them to itself as their mother. Thus, then, it is as has been said. But there are found also, as we have said, other things which, by the same standard by which they communicate with one another, also seem to be distinguished. Wherefore, in that way they are united, but in this way they are distinguished. B Is there, therefore, found also according to another mode a certain common coupling of temperations with nature, and also a proper distinction, as in numbers? For the flood of numbers is the fountain of the "proximate" things; and I call temperations and singular things "proximate." For a number pours forth proximate things out of itself. But proximate things reciprocate among themselves and are distinguished. And they are distinguished indeed because they flow from the genus, but they are united according to the natural recall to that same thing.
6. Let, therefore, the flood of numbers be set forth. Let twenty-four elements be deemed as infinite. Let there be a cutting of the three, A, B, C. If, therefore, A, B, C are considered as they are positioned in that fluid continuation, they are united naturally and are again recalled to the flood of numbers, and they are not any "proximate" thing. But if A assumes part of B, and also part of C, and again if C assumes part of B, and part of A, and in this way they are reduced into a figure and are cut off from the perennial flood of numbers, they will be a plane triangular number. In the same way, four and any other number, when it is cut off from the simple and natural numbers, will be called a "proximate" thing, namely, a singular thing endowed with temperation. But it will be recalled to the flood of numbers in that it possesses units, but it will be separated from that flood itself and from the other figures as one turning its own parts into itself, and by this coupling joining one part to another. Moreover, proximate things have their own proper C agreement. Nor does the nature of all things allow that they be able to be coupled with all things, unless they are recalled to that first perennial fountain of the flood. But they are united also particularly. As the quaternary can be propagated into the sixteen; for the number which is solidified into a cube has quaternaries on both its sides. The ternary [can be propagated] into the thirty-five, for the plane of this is fifteen, and the remainder is ten, and that which is above these is six, and that which is above is three, and the unit is the extremity and the summit. The square, therefore, is united to the cube by relative proportion, the triangle to the pyramidal number, and the circular number to the spherical, and
every other number into that for which it is naturally fitted. And inasmuch as all exist and arise from units, the universal copulation of all things is recalled to the perennial stream of numbers. But because those which are separated are united some with others, and yet others with different ones, and do not unite just as it happens, they are clearly distinguished from one another; and that this occurs both according to nature and according to temperament. For all things are united into that first source, but they are distinguished from one another when they are diversified from that source and sent forth into distribution. A
7. The power of bonding, which accompanies nature, flows through even to the most subtle distributions of temperaments and, as a primary cause, gathers the parts back again into universal union. But the force of the individual property distinguishes the parts among themselves. It unites them, however, in a particular way according to their property. Particular things indeed possess union in various ways among particulars, as Aristotle also makes mention in his books *On the Soul*, for he believes the soul to be simple, yet he recounts its multiple appearances. If, therefore, we understand that multiple motions reside within the simple soul, and that some are composed with others, and various things with various things, and are not united simply—even though the soul itself is intelligent and bears no admixture—much more should we judge that temperaments are not united in that common way, but in a peculiar one, especially since they have matter and entirely undergo admixture, for the reason that they are temperaments. For even if some temperament be granted which has no matter, nevertheless, because it is a temperament, it undergoes admixture. B
Temperaments, being what they are and not unmixed, much rather should we suppose that they do not unite generally, but specifically, according to the fact that they are temperaments possessing matter and being thoroughly mixed. For even if a temperament should be found not having matter, yet it does not engage with other temperaments as such; for they are occupied in the thing that persists by position, although they look to the bond of their own impulse for this reason. For those things which are perfected according to temperament are multiple, because temperaments are multiple according to composition; for some unite, while others are separated by incompatibility. For with regard to the property that tends toward commonality, there is no account for them, but the goal is toward property, since even because they look together toward one end—for there is a place where mixed temperaments accomplish even base ends, and nature made nothing looking toward a base end. C
For this reason, those things are called "contrary to nature"; but those temperaments which are for the most part mixed accomplish beneficial ends. It seems paradoxical to those temperaments mixed according to property that the union of other temperaments [should exist]; for each looks to the union of that which is nearest; for like things are gathered rather than unlike, because like attracts like. Whether, therefore, nature, having made the principles of course, and those principles having come together for mixture according to temperament, attracted that which could be mixed? For that which has not attained any habit at all does not propose anything base for itself. For it would be an error and a disgrace of nature. After, therefore, that which did not exist began to be and obtained a habit, it immediately, diffused into diverse parts, permeates variably, and for this reason they are united to some and diverse to others, yet not all things with all things. D
In potentiality, then, all things are in nature. They are separated from one another according to property; for all temperaments are of nature; A however, they are united among themselves and pass through, and although they intermingle through influx and by many other reasons, some move towards certain things, while others proceed differently due to what is uncongenial. This is admittedly and beyond any other way. Such is the order that temperaments have toward nature: they are indeed separated from one another, but are united in it potentially. For such is the nature of these; therefore, they incline according to property and effect mixtures, and some move in one way, while others move in another, each according to its own B inclination; and for this reason, the things that occur contrary to their own proper aims do not possess reliability, but those that occur according to nature are always reliable. For there are temperaments which act even contrary to nature, as if proceeding by their own will and according to other arguments beyond these, possessing necessity, of which we shall speak in what follows.
THEODORE LASCARIS
SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DUCAS
ON NATURAL COMMUNION
BOOK TWO.
1. C Temperaments are indeed led around in properties, as we have said, and they depart from one another after having progressed from nature. Since, however, we have spoken of the things that are divided, when they have proceeded, they stand apart and even contend with one another. But there are places where they do in fact commune, D and for these there occurs both separation and distance. Whether indeed in the dividing of these
there A entered also along with their division both the good and the worst, the mixed and the seditious, and whether they also introduced variegation; for contrarieties are by nature prone to variegate the intermediates, just as happens with figures. For the distance of divine and human things being great, since it had to be joined through some medium as a principle of some kind, it was the middle of these that provided variety in a fourfold and manifold way; for the privation of such a good brought about the capacity, and this brought about the variety, the variegated things, the figures, and these in turn brought union, so that by means of the middle and the variegated, the separated things came together. The demonstration of the variety of these and of their union is a matter for other treatises, but the present scope is concerned with temperations.
2. Temperations are, then, distinguished from nature in the way we previously mentioned; they exist in isolation and mingle. Therefore, one must consider them in themselves, how they are and how they commune. This will be found as follows: when the elements and nature have been examined, nature is seen to be common to all and is predicated of all and directs all; it is found to be a center everywhere, a principle and a fountain, and although it is essentially and entirely present throughout all the extremities, the medieties, and likewise all the parts—and this everywhere, and not as a partial thing among particulars, but as common to all—yet temperations are B in nature just as the elements are, and when they are variegated, they incline toward that to which each is by nature adapted, as has been said before.
There are also non-material temperations, which according to the same principle themselves participate in nature; for even if they are not material, nevertheless they are mixed temperations, as was said in the previous treatise: such as those in musical harmonies, in intelligible figures, in numerical relations, and in other things we have mentioned. Material temperations also participate in nature and are divided in a similar order, but the elements do not participate in it without reason; though they are the fountain and origin of the temperations, they participate according to harmonic ratios, namely, double, sesquialteral, and sesquitertial. For all things that are united of themselves, and not by means of others, have a circular motion; for the parts and members of bodies are united, both those of inanimate and animate things, but they are not united as whole to wholes of themselves, but are joined through intermediate things. The union of the elements, however, is not like this, but they are united as whole to wholes through all things, with no intermediate things. C There is also an order among them according to the upper and lower place—that which is more and less, according to quantity, lightness, and heaviness—and the order according to the upper and lower place is clearly manifested: for fire is carried upward, air is subjected to it, and water approaches closer to the earth. D
the earth is the middle. For all heavy things rush naturally toward the center; and they do so in a greater or lesser degree. There is more water than fire in the earth, air than earth in the ether, water than earth in the air, and air than fire in the water. Everything is in everything else, yet not through some intermediate substance, but rather the things themselves are within one another entirely, except according to the greater A or lesser degree, and in quantity, insofar as the things contained are smaller than the things containing them, according to the bodies’ proportional solidity, or humidity, or smoothness, or porosity, or thinness, and likewise lightness and heaviness; and this is known from the very operation itself. For no one, thinking for himself, could know this more truly than from the things themselves. For the elements themselves possess an operation of both things within them, so as to manifest their own properties clearly; nature is the source of these, but there exists a division of it; for thus do the subsequent things also follow with a like variety. But since it is necessary that we speak more demonstrably about nature and temperaments, we shall not delay, but from the very elements and nature itself we shall demonstrate B by means of the figure inscribed of this circle. Let the circle be A B Γ Δ. It is necessary, therefore, to demonstrate in it the union of nature and the temperaments through the elements and nature. Let a diameter be drawn from A terminated by the center at Γ, and likewise let one be drawn from B terminated by the center at Δ; let three other circles also be drawn inside the A B Γ Δ C circle, being equally distant from one another. Thus, as much as A and B are distant from one another, let the distance between the circles also be. Let the letter U be written at the center of the circle. Let sector M be removed and set equal to T, and A to M, and I to A: we shall find that M is double I, and A is one-and-a-half times M, and I is one-and-one-third times A. We propose, therefore, that T is earth, M is water, A is air, and I is fire. Since, therefore, the four sections D of the circle are joined with N, the joining of the whole circle is brought about; it is brought about, indeed, so that T, M, A, and I are joined with U by a natural coupling. Furthermore, because they are divided into three parts and into triangles—and they have major parts curved in the manner of a circumference, but oblique parts extended into a straight line—from this we see that the temperaments are truly separated from the temperaments, just as we perceive the parts themselves in the sectors T, M, A, and I to be distinguished by their variety. For that general agreement with N is, in its entirety, completely figured right up to the internal sectors. But the coupling which is in N is indivisible, just as if I were to say it consists of four points.
[GREEK COLUMN] A of the circle, having an equal spacing, as A is to B in spacing, and Γ to Δ. Let Φ also be posited at the center. Let the sector Υ be drawn and made equal to Γ, and Α to Υ, and Π to Α, and it will be found that Υ is double Γ, and Α is sesquialter to Υ, and Π is sesquitertian to Α. Let it be posited, then, that one is earth, another water, another air, another fire, and Φ is the center and nature. Since, then, the four sections in the circle connect to Φ, and the total connection is a circle, therefore Γ Υ Α Π are united by a natural union to Φ; since they are divided tetradically or triangularly, some having the larger portions peripherally, others straightly and obliquely, it is evident that mixtures are thus separated from mixtures, just as the parts into Γ Υ Α Π are varied also. For the relationship to Φ is universal as far as the internal sectors B of the positions, which is by necessity the result of Γ formed entirely, while the connection in Φ is partless, so to speak, because it is as if touching from four points the Φ in the center, so that the relationship in the circle and far off to Φ is shaped and specific, but the connection, since it is in points partless and incomposite. It is found, then, that in Φ the elements are established and receive their composition far off according to conjunctions to their ends, as the portions placed in the circle, the larger ones to the larger ones, the oblique to the oblique, and thus being tempered, these straight lines are formed with the circumferences, each adjusted to the other according to the demonstration of science. In this way, these are likewise united and varied, and C Υ Α Π necessarily, for Υ to be double Γ, so that by taking these and Α Π they complete together the particulars, and first, the shape is the triangle. Since two is the double of the unit, and the unit and the dyad complete the triad, from the composition of these, the triad is by necessity; and the triad has length, depth, and breadth; depth being the unit, being the foundation of every number; length being the dyad (for the dyad is the first and oblong number); and breadth being itself. For it brings the shapes into light. Thus, then, according to a seminal reason (1) calculating the double, water necessarily came to be from earth for these reasons, and the others were placed to underlay every solid (2) and to every surface…
[LATIN COLUMN] that [are] in U, which is in the center, cohere. Wherefore that circular and from-a-distance brought-back agreement with N, is shaped and particular. The copulation, indeed, since it consists in points, is individual and simple. We discover, therefore, the elements to be founded and fixed in the center N, and even in the remote parts to admit composition with their extremes according to conjunctions, not otherwise than the parts which are assigned in a circle, larger with larger, C oblique with oblique, and thus tempered among themselves, the straight lines are shaped with the circular ones, conveniently among themselves according to the demonstration of science. In this way, therefore, and these likewise are united among themselves and acquire variety. Wherefore water is more cognate to earth than fire, and air to fire more than to earth, and water to air more than to fire, and air to water more than to earth, just as the proportion in the parts of the circle shows. For the center is always and necessarily U. But those parts are one through another and in another, and approach to another according to that which is more and less, but at the same time on account of the copulation in U itself all things are cognate by a common reason. But temperaments and elements are distributed according to sections and positions. D Since, however, every body separated from other bodies is endowed with form, and is not understood as matter, but both exist with form (for thus anything will be thought to be, and not considered absolutely as matter), this, however, needs three intervals, which is necessarily the effect of these elements T M A I: therefore indeed it is necessary that M of T should be double, so that with A and I assumed with it they may effect singulars together. And indeed the first figure is a triangle. Since, however, two are the double of unity, and unity and the binary number generate three, necessarily from their composition consists the ternarius (triad). The ternarius, however, has length, altitude, and latitude. And it has altitude indeed as unity, which is as it were the foundation of any number; but length, the binary number (for the first number from the other part long is the binary); but latitude, itself. For it brings into light the figures. In this way, therefore, according to the reason proceeding toward generation, the proportion of water compared with earth necessarily obtains the ratio of the double, and two others are added besides so that there might be that which by nature would be placed under the composition of every solid and body and every surface in it and therefore
A the sector Y is double the sector T; and there are two and three, and thus water and earth are three parts that are equalized, in which toward the teleiosis of the goal are united also A and P, and they produce the things from them. Again, since these were placed as foundations and as a coarser material, by which the others are gathered, we are compelled by necessity to speak of their gathering, for in this way also the mixtures—so that we may understand how they have a kinship toward one another.
3. And that the Y is double the T, but also the A is one-and-a-half times the Y, and likewise the P is one-and-a-third times the A, is true; for the description of the figure is easy and necessary and cannot be otherwise, which, being measured according to continuous quantity, is B able to show the truth and to bring to sight the analogy of the elemental matter, that which concerns quantity, and that there is a connection in it. But since we need to lead our thoughts to greater clarity through examples, we shall demonstrate. Let the example be thus: Let the sector T be the number five, and the M be ten; the T is therefore contained by the M. Let there also be other three T’s of five, and the M’s of ten. If, therefore, the M is double the T, then the other M sectors will also be double the T sectors. If, therefore, the four T sectors—which are joined together and make the inner circle—the M sectors are double [them], the circle therefore which consists of the M sectors contains C the circle which is under the T sectors according to the double ratio; and water therefore contains all the earth according to the double ratio. From this the circle which consists of the T sectors acquires its bulk. Let us ascend, therefore, to another. Let the sector M be ten, and the A fifteen; the M is therefore contained by the A. Let there be also other three sectors M of ten, and the A’s fifteen. If, therefore, the A is one-and-a-half times the M, then the other A’s are also one-and-a-half times the M’s. If, therefore, the A sectors are one-and-a-half times the four Y sectors which are joined together and make the Y circle, then the circle which is under the A sectors contains the circle under the Y sectors according to the one-and-a-half ratio; and the air therefore contains all the water according to the one-and-a-half ratio. Thus the elemental harmony is swelled. Let us proceed D also to the air, rightly. Let there be, then, in this way also the A sector, fifteen, and the P twenty; the A is therefore contained under the P. Let there be also other three A sectors of fifteen. If, therefore, the P is one-and-a-third times the A, then the other P’s of the A’s are one-and-a-third times. If, therefore, of the four A sectors which are joined together and make the circle, the P sectors are one-and-a-third times [them], then the circle which is under the P sectors contains the circle under the A sectors according to the one-and-a-third ratio, and the fire therefore contains the
air according to the one-and-a-third ratio. A And thus, in this circle, the quantity and relation of the elements and their relation to themselves and to the temperaments of nature, by which the whole was established by the Creator, and of them and of nature, has been shown. But lest anyone, seeing the [delta] in the center, be deluded into thinking that we have assigned the nature of the matter to the more terrestrial portion, he should understand that we have attributed to it the mean of the elements and temperaments. For everywhere there are elements and temperaments and nature. For where there is nature, there also is the mean, and where there are elements and temperaments, there also is nature; and where there are elements, there is also the mean, because there is also nature. These all communicate and are separated B from one another, according to more and less, and by their own proper and natural quality, the knowledge of which is bounded for those who are wise. Likewise, people are not to consider the investigation of these sub-double, double, sesquialter, and sesquitertial proportions in general terms, but according to the solid density of the earth, as they understand it to have a double ratio, because of its excessive condensation; by reasoning similarly of the others, as the proportion is, they will judge correctly and not be deceived, as those who are entirely ignorant [might be].
On temperament
C Since, from nature and from the elements, the mixture is known, and the variety has appeared, and the parts that were commonly left behind—the straight and the circular—which manifest what is capable of receiving mixture, have been shown not only in general, but each one has been shown according to some relation to another, and another to each [in turn] D according to union and separation as they possess it, let the discourse be directed also to those things that come after the elements, namely, to the temperaments. For indeed, both to the elements themselves there is a corresponding temperament, and to nature it has been shown as it exists, twofold, according to both that which is in the elements and that which is in the temperaments. Since the demonstration of the elements has demonstrated the variety and the fickleness and the peculiar constitution of these, and no one would say that it is otherwise unless he is of a party or led by a spirit of contention, the truth is clearly known. For there is nothing in this world that does not consist of the four. And if what is in the world consists of these, they will individually not behave otherwise than the elements themselves; and if not otherwise, none of the individuals will be devoid of composition and admixture, since the elements themselves receive admixture among one another. Let no one, then, craftily oppose the coupling of mind and soul to the things said by us, deceiving the truth itself, or rather himself; for gluttony and envy move the impudent. Therefore, the first [principles] that have been established, and the second, that is, the temperaments, receive admixture; and the admixture for those things that follow the elements is twofold, because these things are twofold, both animate and inanimate, and again how they are animate
and how inanimate. In inanimate things, such as stones and metals, the communion of the elements is seen in a A simple manner. For these consist of the elements, and if they have a temperance, it is present in them, though in a greater or lesser degree. For some, when examining the property of metals and stones, find it to be most useful, sometimes opposed to cold, sometimes to heat, and sometimes also assisting them; so that even in these inanimate things, the power derived from the elements is not common to all, but according to their nature. Yet when they are dissolved into their prior principles, they reveal in those things what was mixed. For where is there fire in bronze? But when it is frequently cast into the furnace and gradually ground into the smallest filings, it happens to be dissolved. Someone said: "In the earth, and the stone adjacent to the earth, when struck, emits fire." But if both the stone and the bronze B are dissolved into the earth, and there is also fire in the earth, from both the demonstration of the adjacent stone and of other metals, the bronze is dissolved into fire and earth and its kindred [elements]. One can say many things for the demonstration of temperance, since it is mixed, manifold, and likewise complex. For if fire is in stones and in earth, it is also in bronze; for bronze is collected from the earth. Therefore, when it is resolved into the earth, it is dissolved into its kin. These things, then, should be passed over, and our care should be directed to loftier matters.
For metals and certain other things, the union of the elements is simpler. But let no one doubt that there are also temperances, relations, and properties in these; for they are not only relative to themselves, but also to animate things, as experience demonstrates. There is, therefore, even in inanimate metals and stones, a certain temperance and property; for where there is temperance, there is also property; for the things that are tempered would not have been tempered if they had not first flowed together into themselves with that property.
Regarding those things which are partly animate and partly inanimate—I speak of plants—the communion of the elements is not alien to them. For in them resides the power and faculty of attracting, increasing, C altering, retaining, and secreting, and above all the nutritive power, through which also such things accrue to them, though they are deprived of the sensitive power. This is evident. There is also temperance in them; for if there were no temperance, but all were of a single form, the fruits of these would not contribute differently to the humors; for humors are generated from the fruits. If temperance were not diffused into all parts, [men] would not have sown and cultivated plants according to a common principle, and harvested their fruits. Who, indeed, would say that temperance is not in plants themselves, except someone who would claim that plants are sown and cultivated everywhere according to a common principle? But this is one of those things which cannot be. Such also is
the one who determines to abolish the art of the Asclepiadae, which composes a multitude of medicines from those things that grow, from metals, and from those things that are mixed together, varied and multifaceted, by means of the same demonstration. For all these have differences of A temperaments; for thus also the physicians apply to each disease that which is in opposition to these, for the removal of it, and not all things to all things, although they are different. They investigate wine against wine, oil against oil, fruit against fruit, and produce against produce, and having investigated, they then bring forward what is appropriate, and cast aside from the current B disease that which is ill-suited, attributing it to another disease. If, then, there were no temperament in them, neither would there exist a property; and if there were no property, they would not be able to contribute in some way to some things, and entirely not to others, and they would not have had it properly, in one way to some, and to others completely; but this is absurd, even if someone should persist regarding this. For these reasons physicians do what is appropriate. But there is temperament and property both in stones, and in metals, and in C plants. For property separates temperament from temperament, for there are temperaments in nature, and they share in it in the same way as the elements; but the property divides their community into a division. For the property is great and most dynamic and wonderful, and it distinguishes not only stones from metals, and plants from other things, and from plants those which the Greeks call
zoophytes
, by means of the temperament that is in the genus of each one of which it is a species, and the power residing in them for dividing, but it extends even as far as the ensouled animal and the rational being. And that this is so D too, inasmuch as it is an animal, it yields the properties of others to be mutually attributed, is manifest, but that it is also rational, although this is the case, is not strange; but that it itself is divided into itself and united through this is strange, which the property itself brings about. For the peculiarities of the elements exist after their nature, but those of the temperaments exist both in the elements and with the elements, and those of the humors with the temperaments and even as far as the animals, but the property is everywhere. For the property, according to the greater and the lesser, united earth and water, fire and air, water and air, and earth and air, fire and water, which are united entirely with one another, not through something in between, but they themselves through themselves in and of themselves, according to the greater and the lesser.A Much, therefore, is the power of the property; for this also united the elements to living beings in a proprietary way, while the elements themselves were united by temperations, since even in stones, metals, wool, and plants there are both temperations and elements; for where there are temperations and elements, it is because where there are elements, there are also temperations. Temperation is twofold, either that which is in the elements—for these are also mixed into themselves—or that which is in each of the things derived from the elements, since these too are from elements through temperations. In a proprietary way, having blended the elements through the humors, the property brought this existence to living beings, I mean that which is through the whole; for to other things the elements are a source through temperations; for temperation distinguishes in property both medicine and plant and stone and metal, because they are commonly from elements.
If, however, you go back from nature, the property in living beings is the humors generated from the elements, and these not immediately, but from foods according to a clearer temperation and, as far as the inanimate are concerned, a more honorable one. For it must be so, because nature is simple when considered in isolation, while the elements are not mixed in themselves, yet they are mixed, because, as we have said, they are blended toward one another; but the temperations, insofar as they are not matter, are not mixed, but because they are certain properties B and relations being moved and blending other things in this way or that, they are called mixed. Thus, in a first and simpler way, plants and metals and the others we mentioned receive their existence from nature from the elements through temperations, as being much simpler than living beings, whereas for living beings existence is not thus, but nature moves the elements, and these move the food, and the food the humors, and from the food and the humors living beings consist, at first from humors from the elements, then from food and humors, save that it is through temperation.
For no one possessed of a mind could ever understand anything without temperation. Therefore, to the first things the simpler ones are adjacent, but for those further away, because of the greater variety of temperations, the simple ones are further off. And indeed, it had to be that this is such; for metals, stones, plants, C clusters of herbs, and grasses, as many inanimate things as one might name, are in moisture, cold, dryness, and porosity, and they change and grow and remain. But nature did not at once blend and fashion living beings from fire and air and water and earth through temperations, but through the intervention of humors, and at the beginning from humors, then it constitutes these through humors and foods and, more remotely, elements as if they were principles. For where is earth, where fire, where water, where air in the flesh? To the senses and to quality they are invisible, but by the truth they are known; for fire and air and water and earth do exist within it; for when this is dissolved, the humors are dissolved—which is evident; and when the humors D are dissolved, they are gathered back into the things from which they were composed, so that even with the flesh being composed through humors from fire and earth and air and water, its own existence stands, from which the humors themselves also are.
7. From fire, therefore, and air and water and earth, nature brought about the existence for living beings through humors, and being variously tempered by the properties of the temperations...
A they were mixed. For in nature all things are gathered together, as in a center and source, but they are divided from one another through temperations. For thus there is also discord in these things, and diverse impulses; for that which is combative, that which is grasping, that which is unsociable, and other things contrary to nature, how is it possible that nature, which contains and gathers and unites all things within itself, should urge them to fight and grasp and not to communicate? It is impossible; but all these things, and more than these, belong to the temperations. For nature has made nothing evil as its end; rather, it has brought all things into being in a way that is good and excellent, having received the power from the first and primary principle of all things. But the variety of temperations, multiplied by individual properties, has brought about many things that are not of the same disposition; for infinite innovations coexist with the temperations. For the temperations are infinite, and just as elements exist by nature, and those things which are composed from the elements are infinite, so too are the temperations in the elements, and the properties of the temperations are infinite. For this reason, in metals, in stones, in plants, in foods, in humors, and in animals, there is an infinity of temperations, which also varies in manifold ways bodies, impulses, B properties, activities, thoughts, relations, shapes, inclinations, and all things thereafter, and through these it gathers that which is diverse and brings forth that which is unified. For if, as in nature, because they are united by nature, all things existed as one, they would also act according to nature in the temperations. But since temperations diversify these things, many absurd and inappropriate things are introduced, though many also are necessary and congruent, so that what is brought to completion according to nature is that which is necessary, but that which is according to temperation is not always necessary on account of the diversity. But when the temperation itself preserves the pure end of the thing—toward which nature, looking for the thing to be brought forth, set out its path—then the successful outcome of the thing usually results; but when it turns toward its own peculiarities and receives its direction from there, it deviates from what is required. Let no one imagine that we are saying that the temperations are not of nature (we speak as we go through these accounts); for this is absurd. For how would we have presumed to say that the temperations have their existence from nature, if the mixed things did not have it from the simple? Let him who is thus deceived cast aside his ignorance and search for the truth. But there are temperations, and there is also nature, and likewise also elements. For nature is the center and the source everywhere, and these things are altogether around it, as vapors in one sun, rising from moisture or drought, and then again being dissolved, and being gathered for a moment, and sent forth in this way, and doing this always. For temperations are certain relations and peculiarities,
A from the superior—the inferior, from those things which are by nature—those by fortune, from scientific things—those not such, from prudent things—the insensate, and from the courageous—the fearful and the rash, from temperate things—those of intemperance and stupidity, from just things—the grievances and acts of greed, from truth—the false, from that which is—that which is seemingly so, and from all good things—the bad. This we shall accomplish, having examined them for the sake of the science and knowledge of many things, with the power of God assisting us, by which all things are united according to their nature. These things we shall conceive, being animate and rational. B Such are the things concerning nature. Since we have examined nature and temperations, and the effects of temperations in many ways and divided them minutely—in ideas, in arguments, in forms, in sciences, in elements, in stones, in metals, in plants, in foods, in humors, and in animals—and have found everywhere the equal properties which nature and temperations confer upon each other, and similarly have considered and observed how and when, according to what and in whom they all communicate with each other, and conversely, how and when, according to what and in whom they do not communicate, we have perceived and found them equally in all; it is necessary to investigate them also in the animate, rational animal. For to this end both nature and the temperation which is examined along with nature tend. Thus, in this way, in this animate and rational being, we shall consider the effects of nature and of temperations, and we shall distinguish between the more excellent and the viler, between those things which are by nature and those which are by fortune, between things pertaining to science and those which do not, between the actions of the prudent and the actions of the imprudent and the wicked, between the actions of brave men and the actions of timid and rash men, between the actions of the temperate and the actions of the intemperate and stupid, between equity and iniquity—when someone has unjustly either more or less—between the false and the true, between that which in reality is and that which someone thinks is when it is not, and between good and evil; which we shall perform by seeking the knowledge and science of many things, with the help of the divine power of God.
THEODORE LASCARIS
SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DUCAS ON NATURAL COMMUNION SERMON THIRDD 1. It is necessary also to investigate those things concerning man, and it seems to us worth the effort to show what must be thought. Since, however, up to this point we have examined the whole communion which is under nature, both that which is according to nature and that which is according to temperations, it is above all necessary to demonstrate this very thing according to conjugations, so that everyone may at once, in an orderly sequence, B following the true aim, grasp the conceptions which follow, and thus find the understanding of the things that come after most easy.
A And so, to sum up, I shall recall, as if sowing a seed, the whole aim of the treatise before we reach the end of the treatise. All things are as follows: Since there are in us certain parts, seven in number, derived from soul and matter, these do not exist in all men equally, but in individuals they have intensifications and remissions. The distribution consists of thirteen orders, of which the numbered parts amount to ninety-three in total. These are again distributed into four orders, such that each order has about three parts, of which one is simple, while the others are diminished and intensified, and this holds throughout all of them. B The simple one, therefore, is that which alone exists, which has the seven parts equally, such as a, b, c, and again e, ζ, η, θ, for in it there is neither intensification nor remission, but in those that follow it, all found both intensifications and remissions. Because of this, it also proceeds into a multitude by the communion of permutations; for when the purgation has a, b, c, and e, ζ, η, θ in equality, it cannot be doubled according to any special property, except as an individual and a unit, and it will have another purgation similar to it, from which there is no difference. But when one of the written elements has one that is diminished, the other necessarily has the others further forward, and thus one purgation differs from another; and this occurring, as the elements are transposed according to diminutions and intensifications, thirteen in all will exist C as conjugations, divided into ninety-two, excluding the simple one. The first of all, therefore, is entirely the simple one; then, in the order which follows, the second order of conjugations is that which has three and three, namely all of a, b, c, and of e, ζ, η, θ, three, with one obviously being diminished—of which, by placing the diminution of the e, ζ, η, θ interchangeably, I shall find four conjugations which differ by transposition. For as the first relates to the second, or the third to the last, so also is the individual blended from the last related to that which is from the first and the third, and this is common to the four. After this is the third order of conjugations, which has three and two, namely all of a, b, c, and of e, ζ, η, θ, two, with two undergoing diminution, which, having made them interchangeably by transposition, I shall find as a perfect conjugation, which differ by transposition. For as the first relates to the second, or the third to the last, so also is the individual blended from the last related to that which is from the first and those following up to this one, and this is common to the six. After this comes the fourth order of conjugations, which has three and one, namely all of a, b, c, and of e, ζ, η, θ, one of the three being diminished. D And thus, in this manner, with the elements transposed according to remissions and intensifications, there will exist thirteen conjugations in total, which are divided into ninety-two, not counting that simple conjugation. The first of all, therefore, is that simple one. Then in order follow those which come next. Furthermore, the second order of conjugations is that which has three and three; a, b, c indeed all of them, but three from e, f, g, h, with one obviously subtracted, by which four e, f, g, h are in turn subtracted; I shall find four conjugations: a b c e f g | a b c f g h | a b c g h e | a b c e h f, which indeed differ among themselves by transposition. And as the first differs from the second, and the third from the last, so the individual tempered from the last differs from that which is tempered from the first and the third. And following this second order is the third order of conjugations, which has three and two: a, b, c indeed all of them, but two from e, f, g, h, surely with two subtracted, by which, when transposed in turn, I shall find a conjugation perfect in its positon: a b c e f | a b c f g | a b c g h | a b c h e | a b c e g | a b c f h, which differ by transposition. And as the first differs from the second, and the third from the last, so also the individual tempered from the last differs from that which is tempered and composed from the first and the rest in succession, up to this last. And this is common to the three. The fourth order follows this third, which has three and one: a, b, c indeed all of them and without any subtraction, but one from e, f, g, h, with three obviously subtracted, by which, when transposed in turn, I shall find...
A four conjugations: a b c e | a b c f | a b c g | a b c h | which differ by transposition. For just as the first stands in relation to the second, and the third to the last, so too the individual tempered from the last, back toward that which is from the first and the third, and this is common to the four. After this order, there is another order of conjugations, which also has three orders, in which there is permutation of the four by subtraction down to a pair, and of the three, subtraction of one, and permutation and equality of two. These are the orders of orders and conjugations, which have two from the three, and from the four have four, three, and two, which by means of transpositions I shall find, when set forth in turn, in each single order eleven conjugations, of which the first order of these, being the fifth of the whole B is: a b c e f g h | a b c e f g h | a b c e f g h ... [the text presents an exhaustive list of combinations with variations in transposition] ... which differ by transposition. For just as the first stands in relation to the last, and the second to the tenth, so too the individual tempered from the eleventh, in reverse back to that which is from the first; this is common also to the eleven. After this, the second of this [order], being the sixth of the whole, is that which itself also proceeds by the same property, outside of the transposition of two, [following the sequence] ... which differ by transposition. For just as the first stands in relation to the last, and the second to the tenth, so too the individual tempered from the eleventh, in reverse back to that which is from the first; this is common also to the eleven. After this order, there is another order of conjugations, which also itself has three orders, in which four are permuted and subtracted down to two, while from the three, two are subtracted and one is permuted. These are the orders of orders and conjugations, and they have one from the three, and from the four, four, three, and two, which being permuted in turn I shall find in each single order eleven conjugations, which indeed is the first order of this genus, but the eighth of the whole is: a e f g h | a e f g | a f g h | a e f g | a g h e | a e f | a f g | a g h | a h f | a h e | a e g | which differ by transposition. For just as the first stands in relation to the last or the second to the tenth, so too in reverse the individual that is tempered from the eleventh, to that which is from the first. This is common also to the eleven. Following this order is the second order, the ninth of the whole, which in its progress retains the same property, except for the transposition of one, D b e f g h | b e f g | b f g h | b g h e | b e f h | b e f | b f g | b g h | b h f | b h e | b e g | which differ by transposition. For just as the first conjugation stands in relation to the last or [the second to the tenth, so too in reverse... adding] a b f g h so that there may be eleven conjugations.
eleventh, back to that which is compounded from the first; and this is common to the eleven. After this, its second A conjugation, the ninth of the whole, proceeding by the same characteristic, outside of the transposition of the one: *b, z, e, z, η, θ, β, ε, ζ, β, ζ, η, θ, β, η, ε, β, ε, η* — these differ by transposition. For just as the first stands to the last, and the second to the tenth, so too is the element compounded from the eleventh, in reverse, back to that which is compounded from the first; and this is common to the eleven. After this, its third—the tenth of the whole—proceeding by the same characteristic, outside of the transposition of the one: *g, e, z, η, θ, g, e, z, η, g, η, z, θ, g, η, θ, g, e, z, g, z, η, g, η, θ, g, η, θ* — these differ by transposition. For just as the first stands to the last, and the second to the tenth, so too is the element compounded from the eleventh, in reverse, back to that which is compounded from the first; and this is common to the eleven. B After this order, another order of conjugations, which also contains three orders, in which there is an alteration of the three and the four, and a reduction of two from the three, and of three from the four. Those which have one from the three, and likewise one from the four, which through the transpositions I shall find, when added in turn to each order, to be four conjugations. The first order of these, the eleventh of the whole, is *a, a, z, a, η, k, θ, a*—these differ by transposition. For just as the first stands to the second, or the third to the last, so too is the element compounded from the last, in a retrograde motion, back to the element compounded from the first; and this is common to the four. After this, its second C, the twelfth of the whole, proceeding by the same characteristic, in alteration and transposition: *b, e, b, z, b, b, θ*—these differ by transposition. For just as the first stands to the second, or the third to the last, so too is the element compounded from the last, in a retrograde motion, back to the element compounded from the first; and this is common to the four. After this, its third, the thirteenth of the whole and the last, proceeding by the same characteristic, in alteration and transposition: *g, e, g, z, g, η, g, θ*—these differ by transposition. For just as the first stands to the second, or the third to the last, so too is the element compounded D from the last, in a retrograde motion, back to the element compounded from the first; and this is common to the four. Thus, all the conjugations of the members of the rational animal have reached their limit here, but there emerge, beyond the ninety-two conjugations and the simple one, seven other conjugations which indeed have intensity in unity alone. For this reason we have not numbered these with the others, since order in these was a disturbance of order. They are these: *a*, with intensity; *b*, with intensity; *c*, with intensity; *e*, with intensity; *f*, with intensity; *g*, with intensity; *h*, with intensity. But when I say "with intensity," I also say "with remission." Both.
For the word signifies a relation. If these are counted with those properly called orders, they constitute one hundred conjugations in all. But of such things we have nothing to say at present, since we desire to walk another path. It is better for the present to pass over these in silence. And we seem to ourselves to do so for a just cause, because we have selected so many and such things which, in such power and abundance of natural science, might be compared with one another. We shall pursue that comparison which has a place in the conjugations of natural temperaments in the sixth discourse, but now, having seized the opportunity from what we have said and brought it, as it were, into the light, let us proceed to speak in this book of those which correspond to those first ones. Now we return to the goal, that, as we determined, we may complete this discussion to the best of our ability.
2. Nor indeed will anyone be able to find any other number in them above or below those which we have enumerated. For the transpositions and permutations of the elements have neither gone beyond perfection, nor have they fallen short of perfection, but as they were defined until now, they have attained perfection and completion. There are common to them seven, namely A *a, b, c* and *e, f, g, h*, from which, according to remissions and intensions, twelve conjugations exist. Except for the simple one and its opposite, they are distributed into four orders; which orders have about three conjugations each, which, again distributed into more, amount to ninety-two in all, except for the simple one and its opposite. B There is, therefore, a twofold difference in these: one is that of the seven, to which intensity and remission happen by reason of transposition and permutation; and for this reason it effects a multitude, and one that is finite and terminated. For all the conjugations are ninety-two, besides the simple one. But the other difference makes the multitude not finite in number, which, however, consists within the finite, although it is in the highest degree indefinite. It is, however, finite, since its infinity consists within a finite multitude. For, by way of example, let some individual endowed with a singular temperament be proposed from the ninety-two conjugations; and let it be that Christopher is "upright." He can, of course, be more or less "upright." And is not Euphemides also "acute," because he is more or less "acute" and "sagacious"? But it can never happen that C Euphemides should be "upright," or Christopher "acute." And this is common to all. One difference, therefore, is according to intensions and remissions up to the ninety-two conjugations, except for the simple one, and it was not possible to proceed further. But the other is infinite and innumerable. For it can happen that a savage person, according to remissions and intensions, may be infinitely irascible, namely, the one who consists in some conjugation adapted for producing irascibility. Since, indeed, we have said that in those cases it is necessary for the irascible person to be more or less irascible, let no one think [that one...] D
A that the individual is [the same], but rather those individuals that have been tempered by the same temperament of the conjugation. And the individuals of the same conjugation of the "anxious" and of the same conjugation of the "grave" have been named in the singular according to the names of each, because the definition of their essence is common and appropriate to them, to both of them in relation to each other; for every irascible person will receive the definition of an irascible person, and every covetous person that of a covetous person, whenever each of these is called irascible or covetous. It is reasonable, therefore, that the many should have been spoken of in the singular for both. There is, therefore, for the irascible grave person and for the covetous anxious person, insofar as they are irascible and covetous, an indeterminate tension and remission, because the conjugations that tempered them, insofar as they are of such a nature as to exist according to remissions and tensions, possess that indeterminacy, and neither does the grave ever become anxious, nor the anxious grave. For this reason, their conjugations allow for remissions and tensions, because the conjugations that tempered them were B not of such a nature as to change.
3. It is evident that this is appropriate to all of them, from the intense extension of these two; for the common element according to all things no longer applies to all, since they communicate in some [respects], but are distinguished in others, since there are seven [conjugations] that have tempered the simple [conjugation], and those that have produced so many are absolutely seven. And what is this which has produced many alterations in the one? It is entirely permutation; and for this reason they are not of such a nature as to be permuted, because once they have been perfectly changed. Therefore, the grave irascible person and the anxious covetous person, among those who are similar to themselves, receive tensions and remissions, according to the quality by which they are covetous and irascible. And by the same reasoning, the conjugations that bound them together will also make them infinite in tension and remission, as irascible and covetous, but they will never interchange. And so, from the beginning, by the same reasoning, the conjugations and the individuals [derived] from them up to the end will receive tensions and remissions, yet within their proper limits; whether they are infinite irascible persons—yet still irascible—and infinite covetous persons—yet still covetous—and infinite prudent persons—yet still prudent—because within their proper limits all are irascible, covetous, and prudent. These, then, are the two differences: the one that produced the ninety-two conjugations and the simple one, and the one that possesses the infinite remissions and tensions, and these within the conjugations. For this reason, no one of noble intellect will be caught in a fallacy through the tension, so as to have the irascible person in remission compared to the other in tension, but he differentiates the irascible person from the covetous person, and vice versa. The same must also be observed in all conjugations.
A Furthermore, that even if the 'a' of the second conjugation has tension or remission toward another 'a' of the same conjugation, it is not possible that the 'a' should not belong to the same 'b' by reason of that tension and remission. Are all individuals therefore circumscribed within these conjugations? And are there ninety-two men in all, including the simple one and the seven of the counterbalancing group, even if they admit of tension or remission in their own conjugations, while individuals of it are infinite—not as being outside the conjugations, but because of the tension and remission within them? Our discourse here has endeavored to demonstrate the communion of the seven parts of the rational animal, and this contributes to the remainder in our considerations. But in order to demonstrate what each conjugation exists for, and what individual it makes—not as we do, but as it is by nature, and indeed better, as the majority of those who are skilled in natural science would do—we shall not hesitate, even if it be burdensome, to set forth the individual of each one, even if it be a difficult task, and in a way we shall precede those who wish to enter into it.
B Consequently, no one will find others beyond these, unless he is being sophistical; nor will one find fewer, unless he possesses a curtailed intellect; all these are the ones, and it is not possible to go further than this. The 'a b c e f g h' [sequence], therefore, tempers the simple [man], since a simple [conjugation] is involved—and by 'simple' and 'simple conjugation' here, I mean the complete one; the others, each according to its own property. All men, therefore, are ninety-two—the simple or 'complete' one, and the seven of the counterbalancing group. But all of these, including the simple one, are infinite, not in terms of one thing versus another, but in terms of 'another' and 'distinctly another'; for 'another' signifies the essence, 'distinctly another' the individual, and the term 'varied' signifies the tension and remission. All the purifications are, therefore, 'varied'—as many as stand within the limit of the seven, namely 'a b c d e z h th'. Others, however, are those who arise from the transpositions and permutations of the conjugations; and yet others are those who, standing within the bounds of each single conjugation, exist according to tension and remission. It also possesses breadth and narrowness. For one does not distinguish the irascible from the covetous by 'more' or 'less'; this is breadth, since it is not defined—not that every breadth is undefined, but that what is undefined sometimes possesses breadth, and sometimes is breadth, and also contracts, because when an 'a' of the second conjugation is compared with another 'a' of the same conjugation, it receives both remission and tension. C Nor indeed would nature have fashioned it thus, unless all individuals of the same second conjugation were necessarily so by reason of tension and remission. Are all individuals, therefore, included and comprised within these conjugations? And are there all ninety-two, including the simple one and those seven who respond with equal force and equal power to the simple conjugation? Do they also receive the qualities of tension and remission in each of their own conjugations? But the individuals of each conjugation are infinite—not because they are outside the conjugations themselves, but on account of the tension and remission, both of which consist within their own conjugations. Therefore, in this discourse of ours, we have endeavored to show the communion of the seven parts endowed with reason, the application of which doctrine we can have diffused further and more widely in the communions of natural things. Proceeding, we shall not be reluctant to demonstrate that 'a'—which each conjugation is accustomed to make an individual—even if this treatment be full of difficulty and bother. And many others, indeed, skilled in this science, could have explained and treated all these matters better—not in the way we have, but in the way that was most fitting within the conjugations themselves, or otherwise. But no one will be able to discover other conjugations beyond those, in whatever way he may change or transpose them: because they are most perfectly permuted and transposed. But we, however we may, shall explain the individual of each conjugation, and this too D
A when it is done more competently, we should not be blamed by anyone, nor is it necessary that those who examine it after us should do so in order to be excessively ambitious regarding matters of natural philosophy. And so, we ourselves request from them the same indulgence which those who wish to do so in the writings extend to those who come after them. I have not written this out of cowardice, as if I feared lest the generation of my time should know that I am well-versed, without contentiousness, even in the mysteries of philosophy, nor did I possess hidden and selfish knowledge, as many do who deceive their own conscience and become objects of ridicule through their laughter [(2)] and by being strangled by their own familiar snares. But as a philosopher who knows that humility is a good thing, that moderation is a virtue, and that middle states are extremes, and that extremes must be brought into a middle state—and in addition to these things, that I am mortal, and that I call out to my fellow servants, that I am dealing with those who are knowledgeable, and that there is one and only one who is truly and properly wise B—thus I speak, and I cling to those who find a better opinion than mine. And I ask for the favor and indulgence for this book of science itself here and now; for it is characteristic of the similar to be ambitious to offer those who are similar to them appropriate gifts.
Diagram of the third discourse of Theodore Ducas, in which we wish to place the number of the conjugations before the eyes.
The simple and first conjugation. α β γ. ε ζ η θ The second order. α β η. ε ζ η α β γ. γ. α β γ ε θ ε ζ η θ η θ ε
ε A The 6th order. α β γ. ε ζ 5 α β γ. ε ζ η 6 α β γ. ε ζ θ 7 α β γ. θ ε 8 α β γ. ε ζ 9 α β γ. ζ θ 10 α β γ. ζ θ. The 4th order. 11 α β γ. ε 12 α β γ. ζ 13 α β γ. η 14 α β γ. θ The 5th order and the first of the other orders. 15 α β. ε ζ η θ 16 α β. ε ζ η 17 α β. ε ζ θ 18 α β. ζ η θ 19 α β. η θ ε 20 α β. ε ζ 21 α β. ζ η 22 α β. η θ 23 α β. ζ θ 24 α β. θ ε 25 α β. ε η The 2nd order, 2nd of all. 26 β γ. ε ζ η θ 27 β γ. ε ζ η 28 β γ. ε ζ θ 29 β γ. ζ η θ 30 β γ. η θ ε 31 β γ. ε ζ 32 β γ. ζ η 33 β γ. η θ 34 β γ. θ ε 35 β γ. θ ε 36 β γ. ε η The 3rd after this, the 7th of all. 37 α γ. ε ζ η θ 38 α γ. ε ζ η 39 α γ. ε ζ η 40 α γ. ζ η θ 41 α γ. η θ ε 42 α γ. ε ζ 43 α γ. ζ η 44 α γ. η θ 45 α γ. θ ζ 46 α γ. θ ε 47 α γ. ε η The 1st order of these, the 8th of all. 48 α. ε ζ η θ 49 α. ε ζ η 50 α. ζ η θ 51 α. ε ζ θ 52 α. η θ ε 53 α. ε ζ 54 α. ζ η 55 α. η θ 56 α. θ ζ 57 α. θ ε 58 α. ε η
The 2nd order of these, the 9th of all. 59 β. ε ζ η θ 60 β. ε ζ η 61 β. ζ η θ 62 β. κ ζ θ 63 β. η θ ε 64 β. ε ζ 65 β. ζ η 66 β. η θ 67 β. θ ε 68 β. θ ε 69 β. ε η
The 3rd of these, the 10th of all. 70 γ. ε ζ η θ 71 γ. ε ζ η 72 γ. ζ η θ 73 γ. ε ζ θ 74 γ. η θ ε 75 γ. ε ζ 76 γ. ζ η 77 γ. η θ 78 γ. θ ε 79 γ. θ ε 80 γ. ε η
Another order 1st, the 11th of all. 81 α. ε 82 α. ζ 83 α. η 84 α. θ
The 2nd of these, the 12th of all. 85 β. ε 86 β. ζ 87 β. η 88 β. θ
C The 3rd of these, the 13th of all. 89 γ. ε 90 γ. ζ 91 γ. η 92 γ. θ
Seven other pairs which have in one single unit an intension or remission: α by intension α α by intension β α by intension γ α by intension ε α by intension ζ α by intension η α by intension θ
Signification of the letters. α, reason, β, spirit, γ, desire, ε, blood, ζ, yellow bile, η, black bile, θ, phlegm.
D (1) The obscurity of this passage will be illuminated in this way: When distribution is made into four orders, then the thirteen orders with respect to the four orders are no longer called orders, but conjugations. Again, when distribution is made into ninety-three conjugations, then the thirteen are no longer called conjugations, but orders with respect to the ninety-three conjugations. Moreover, as Galen advises, when we have that conjugation which is equal in every part, and is devoid of intension and remission, we must compare the rest. And this must be observed in individual orders.
THEODORE LASCARIS, SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DOUKAS, ON NATURAL COMMUNION, FOURTH SERMON
1. We have thus recorded the communions of the humors and the parts of the soul in humans, as many as we have found and investigated, as was proper. We do not, however, enclose within a precise quantity the properties of those things acting according to reason, nor of those acting according to the irascible power, nor of those acting according to the concupiscible, nor of the humors assigned to each; for this is not a place where one can find that, but we have demonstrated only the number, the relation, and the quality. Thus, how many and what kind the communions of both are—that is, of soul and humors—has been shown, though it is impossible for the quantity of each one to be found; for the quantity A of substance does not have intension and remission, but equality and inequality; yet this does not cause error in knowledge. Since, therefore, the communions according to number have been demonstrated, and likewise the specific property of each one—for even if a rational person excels someone who is rational, and an irascible one excels an irascible one, and one concupiscible excels one concupiscible, nevertheless both are either concupiscible, or rational, or irascible, even if one of these possesses, in whatever measure it may have, the specific intension of the common quality—the one judging on this basis does not err in such a way as to judge the irascible
as identical to the concupiscible, but cleanly distinguishes the concupiscible from the irascible. And even if the forms of individuals have a breadth such that each form might receive its intension into infinity, yet the property will not thereby cease to be, but will remain the same. A That which we say, however, shall be demonstrated in this manner, in order to show by this figure that the intension of the quality does not make the irascible to be defined as another irascible. Therefore, it is necessary to demonstrate that these do not become one thing and then another through the quantity of the equal and the unequal.
Let the squares of the figure be B the larger square A B C D, and the smaller square E F G H. Let there be, therefore, points A B C D with which the points X Φ Ψ Ω are joined, and let them be the same at B, at Γ, at Δ, and at A; and let them be Ψ Φ Φ Ω Ω Χ Χ Ψ, and they shall form the smaller square E Ζ Η Θ. Let there also be the points N Λ Π, which are the means of the points E Ζ Η Θ, just as Φ Ω Χ are of the points A B Γ Δ. As, therefore, Δ is to B, so E is to Ζ; and as B is to Γ, so Ζ is to Η; and as Γ is to Δ, so Η is to Θ; and as Δ is to A, so Θ is to E. And again, as the joined triangle Ψ Φ B is to the triangle N Ζ Ρ, so also is the triangle Ψ Χ A to the triangle Π Ε Ν, and as the triangle Χ Ω Δ is to the triangle Λ Π Θ, so also is the triangle Ω Φ Γ to the triangle A B Ρ Η. C There exists, therefore, the triangle Ψ Φ B, similar in quality to the triangle N Ρ Ζ, though not equal in size; and in order, the triangle Ψ Χ A to the triangle Π N E, and likewise the triangle Χ Ω Δ to the triangle Λ Π Θ, and the triangle Ω Φ Γ to the triangle A Ρ Η. And again, into the resulting square N Ρ A Π, let there be inscribed, in the same order as this Ν Α Π with respect to Ψ Φ Ω Χ, the points T Υ Κ Σ; let these also be joined to T Υ Κ Σ, and these triangles shall be equal. As, therefore, the triangle H Λ O—
A with respect to Ψ Χ A, so also T Σ Π to Π A Θ; and as the triangle A P H with respect to X Ω Δ, so also Σ K A to Λ P H; and as the triangle P N Z with respect to Ω Φ Γ, so also K Υ P to N P Z; and as the triangle N Π E with respect to Φ Ψ B, so also Υ T N to I N E, each of them having an equal excess with respect to the other, according to inequality, and this to infinity. But also as the square A B Γ Δ with respect to E Z H Θ, so also N P A Π with respect to T Υ K Σ, each exceeding and being exceeded by the other in equal measure according to inequality; for as A B Γ Δ is to E Z H Θ, so also is it to N P A Π, and it, by the same logic, to T Υ K Σ. And since, therefore, to the points at the extremities A B Γ Δ, the middle points Ψ Φ Ω X being joined, they necessarily produce a B square; and the middle points of these, according to the same quality, will produce P A Π; and likewise also the middle points of these, T Υ K Σ. But the triangles Ψ Φ, B Φ, Ω Γ, Ω X, Δ X, Ψ A, being united according to Ψ Φ Ω X at the middle points N P A Π, which lie toward the lines Ψ Φ, Φ Ω, Ω X, X Ψ, being joined according to the same analogy of the ones above according to inequality, they will also exist as similar in quality. And the middle points of these, therefore, which lie toward the lines N Δ A Π Π N, being joined, will follow in quantity, not in remission compared to the former, but in equality and C so that the square or triangle, or any other kind of quality, does not differ in quality from the lesser, but is the same according to quality. And since the equal and unequal, as has been said, does not make another quality from the quantity, the concupiscible or irascible A B Γ Δ is therefore similar in quality to the concupiscible or irascible Ψ Φ Ω X, and this to N P A Π, and this to T Υ K Σ; and the triangles according to the same logic; and the irascible and the concupiscible, therefore, in the same way also the rational and the mixed and all according to their order; and these things were shown just as it was necessary to be shown by our discourse. This D demonstration shows that not even one conjunction of those that share in the science shall appear different, according to the logic of quality, since even these triangles and squares, whether they be larger or smaller, still have their lines and angles and areas commonly similar with respect to the quantity of each. For a larger and a smaller triangle has no difference, if not according to the forms of the triangle, which if they do differ, differ by having a different form; but that which is of the same form, whether it be larger or smaller, will not be different. The irascible, therefore, or the concupiscible, or the rational, or the phlegmatic, or the sanguine, or the melancholic, or the yellow-bilious, or those having a temper mixed from both according to the connections of the conjunctions noted previously, will not be of a different order than that to which they belong on account of the logic of intension or remission, since they are not different, but dissimilar. All the orders, therefore, have been recovered. Moreover, each order has latitude so that it may be able to receive increase and diminution. Nor does a different species of common quality or a different individual emerge on account of intension and remission.
A For intension and remission belong not to quantity, but to quality, and the other thing is different; for it is not another, but an "other-wised" thing. All the classes, therefore, have been found. And each has breadth, so that it may receive both increase and diminution, and there will not emerge another species or individual of the common quality on account of intension or remission. For intension B is not of essence, nor is there any intension of essence; and there is no intension of essence, so that nothing remains of intension except that intension exists in no essence; yet essence is in every other thing. Intension, therefore, is in no other thing, and so A [belongs] to every B, but C to no B; therefore A will belong to no C, because also A, B, C, D in relation to Ψ, Φ, Ω [is] not an essence, nor... [diagram] ...nor intension.
C X. It does not differ in quantity by intension; for intension pertains not to quantity, but to the unequal, which makes not another [species] of A, just as the equal definition [does]. For the circle A, B, C will not receive a definition different from [that of] K, L, M, N, Z; for there is one common [definition] for both: for a circle is a plane figure enclosed by one line, which is called the circumference, towards which all straight lines drawn from one point situated within the figure are equal to one another. Whether therefore B be equal to A, or unequal, it will receive the same definition; and of those whose definition is common, the account of their essence is also common; and [the same holds] for the triangle, and the polygon, and in the case of the even and the odd. And if silver should be united with gold, and again, no other difference will arise for them from this union, except that which is according to quality. For the one, having been united, comes towards the white, and the other towards the fiery; but no one [of them] changes the inherent [quality] on account of the others... D equality or inequality; for to each will remain the quantity of each, so that no intension or remission brings forth for some [other] thing that which it is; for there is a composition of qualities there, for which reason it is not simple but composite, [and] the result is [a thing] with quality, yet not of quantity. For that [thing] is not another, but "other-wised"; for neither gold alone nor silver alone is the mixture, but sixfold silver in union with sixfold gold will be changed according to what is qualitative and be "other-wised," but not according to quantity. For this reason, if one looks, he might see the intension or remission not in quantity, but in quality. I shall demonstrate this as follows. Proposition: one must therefore show that in the coming together of qualities, intension occurs according to that which is "other-wised," but that quantity has no intension. Exposition: let there therefore be a quantity A, T, Γ, and likewise Λ, Ν, Ν; and it is necessary in both signs not to exist...
as a quality, as [for example] whiteness and blackness, or sweetness and saltiness, for even in that way whiteness would not be intensified, for there is nothing whiter than whiteness, and the others [behave] in an atomic way as regards quality which produces intension—for a grape is sweeter than a pomegranate, and a pomegranate than a grape, and white than white; yet the others certainly exist as white. B The strength of the quality increases in one respect according to quality, and in another it diminishes, but sweetness itself or whiteness is neither intensified nor diminished; it remains always the same. Therefore, at the same time, nothing can ever be both sweet and not-sweet, nor white and not-white, even if in one thing and another it receives from quality intension and remission. And if, then, white and black are joined, they suffer remission; for the contrary qualities break the extremities if they are mixed, and the mixture will be "other-wised" and not "another." For neither is the white entirely not-white, nor the black entirely not-black, but rather it is black in some way, and in some way not; and the other likewise, according to the same standard—for instance, the ink of a cuttlefish and flour when joined, the white and the black that are in them will be changed. For since they are contrary, and they are turned, the one will come to be from the contrary by way of remission of being white, and the other of being black; and they will not be changed by equality or inequality, so that the measure of the seah [should come down] into a cup, or that one should take into itself something from the other as if a certain proportional quantity, but rather one must grasp that it is impossible; but if it is incorporeal, it is a quality, and the intensified thing will not become another, but [remains] C what it is.
Again, if you say that something incorporeal approaches, either a quality will arrive—and in this way the intense thing will not emerge as another, but as dissimilar—or units will arrive and be agglutinated, surely one unit and another unit. If these units are abstract qualities, and the one is added to the other, as whiteness, blackness, sweetness, saltiness; nor in this way will there be an intension of quality, for whiteness is not made more white by whiteness. The same must be said of the others. But quality in an individual produces intension. For a grape is sweeter than a pomegranate, or a pomegranate is sweeter than a grape, and likewise white is more white than white, whereas both are entirely white. Wherefore the force of quality increases this indeed according to a certain quality, while that [other] it diminishes. But sweetness and whiteness themselves are neither intensified nor remitted, but remain the same. Therefore at the same time it is impossible for anything ever to be sweet and not-sweet, white and not-white, although in one thing and another it will receive intension and remission from quality. Wherefore if white and black are united, it cannot be done without remission; for the extremities are changed or become of another sort: for in the tempering and admixing of contrary qualities the extremities themselves are wont to be broken. There will be a mixture of another sort, though not another [thing]. For neither is that white which was not entirely white, nor that black which was not entirely black, but it is partly black and partly not-black. And that which is the other is in the same way, just as the blackness of a cuttlefish and the "ferine" [ink] when coupled together [produce] whiteness and blackness.
A Let each exist, therefore, to the extent that it has existence from the outset as a quantity, and let them permeate one another. For just as the five is from the triad and the duad, yet neither does three become four, nor does two become three by means of the union, but even after the union the one that has come together is [something] different, yet it is not defined by another quantity, but by that of those which have come together into it—for neither does three become four, nor two become three; for if it were possible for this to happen, the five would have become seven, which is absurd—so also in white and black it is not quantity, but quality that has [the capacity] to receive either a decrease or an increase. For since the five itself, even if it has a nature to undergo a decrease in terms of quantity, reached the smallest [value] at the same [degree of] unity; for each of those that have come together will have been decreased of necessity, and the three will become two, and the two [will become] one, and if the one that has come together from these five [becomes] seven, which is absurd, and similarly by way of decrease, the three [becomes] two, and the two [becomes] one, and the one that has come together [becomes] five—three, these are impossible and absurd. But if three be thought of as four, and two as one, and it is considered a five, the species is altered; for the five is not a gathering of a unit and a tetrad, but truly of a duad and a triad; for the unit is not purely odd, but it is [a constituent] of the odd and the even. For first, thus is the generation: one, then two, and next three. A The one, therefore, and one when compounded make two. This, therefore, is even; but the one and two make three, an odd [number]; the one and three make four, an even [number], [which is] the second; and the one and four make five, an even-odd [number]. Consider, therefore, the absurdity in all things: if the unit takes on another unit, and the tetrad another, and they are increased, the six or the five, [this] is absurd; but if the tetrad undergoes a decrease of one, it will be a tetrad—for the unit would not receive [such a] change; for this would not resolve five, but all number into nothing, and this is absurd. But if the unit takes on another unit, and the tetrad undergoes a decrease of a unit, it will entirely become three; therefore, the five [comes] not from a unit and a tetrad, but from a duad and a triad; this is natural. B Therefore, that which is qualified admits increase and decrease, but quantity does not; for it did not come to pass here that the five should become four, or three, or seven, by means of an increase or decrease of the quantity, which is most absurd; for the even and the odd brought together did nothing absurd; for the two is two, and the three is three, [and] these remained in the equal and the unequal. But by the gathering of quality with quality, there came to be a mixed quality; for neither is the even entirely even, nor the [odd] not also even.
Therefore, the discovery of qualities and B alteration is here, while quantity, having taken a place for intension and remission, brought about many absurdities; for it made the quintet a heptad, a hexad, a tetrad, and a triad, which is absurd and sophistic. This, therefore, we must understand also in the case of the aforementioned white and black: the qualities are altered, but quantity is never altered. For there is neither intension nor remission in quantity, but only equal and unequal. If therefore things are considered as matter, they are seen to be enclosed by the three limits of quantity; for the quantity of a C medimnus of flour could not be exchanged into the quantity of a cyathus of squid ink, but an exchange of these occurred, and by the exchange a remission happened; and in another quality, a quality united with another will cause an intension, as for example the even number four, and the two; and the one is equilateral, the other oblong. Therefore, they are unequal, and if they are united, they produce [something] of another kind; and the two and the four, even if the equilateral is exchanged for the oblong, and in this respect it will become of another kind—for it is oblong—yet according to the even, it is neither other nor of another kind. For both those that have come together and the resultant are even, so that the quality was indeed altered here and received intension, but the quantity was not altered; for all preserved their own proper quantity: the two being two, the four being four, and the six being six, but the quality was altered. And D for the oblong, having taken the equilateral, changed it into the oblong. But if someone says that the [line] abc is unequal to the bc and also dissimilar, perhaps it will be because of the greater and smaller, not because of intension or remission, but because of that which is relative, as Aristotle also says in the *Categories*. For neither, according to his own account, are intension and remission matters of quantity, but of quality, nor are the great and the small matters of quantity, but of relationship; but the unequal and the equal are proper to quantity. You will find also in other things, whether it be an intension or remission of the quality, that of the quantity it is always the equal or the unequal, so that the six and the ten are unequal according to quantity, but dissimilar according to quality. And one might find many kinds of odoriferous quality that are intense or remiss according to quality, [but] equal and unequal according to quantity. But who compares things that are not of the same kind, but rather things of different kinds? A sycamore is called small, and an even larger vine, so that at the same time the same thing is great and small, and opposite to itself, which is among the impossibilities. Therefore, the things in taste and sight, that is, of sweetness, unsweetness, heat, coldness, whiteness, for example, and blackness, hearing and touch, rough and smooth, and the things in smell that are foul-smelling and sweet-smelling, and those in between, the clarity [of these] demonstrates without demonstration that they belong to quality, and likewise also those of the col- A ors.
colors. C For no one asks regarding this or that triangle, how much whiteness its surface possesses when compared to the surface of this or that triangle; for that concerns quantity. But when we say that the surface of this triangle is whiter than the surface of that one, this itself is a matter of intensity. Therefore, the inquiry is instituted concerning quality, because intensity and remission are attributes of quality. And these things have been said concerning the qualities that are in numbers.
3. The equality and inequality in numbers themselves is clear: and in the same way, the equality and inequality of the units, of the one, of the line, and of the surface in any solid can be understood in this manner. Now, "unity" and "the one" are not strictly used to signify the same thing. Unity, properly, is that which can be perceived only by the mind, and is outside of matter, the quantity of which no one can investigate. For since it is devoid of matter, how can it receive quantity? Therefore, the stream of infinite units, which can be perceived only by the mind, flowing from this very source, are certain faculties and connections from which discrete quantity has been derived and expressed: for we have discrete quantity in numbers from this, which faculties, connections, and shapes have propagated. D For in these, discrete quantity is found. For units that fall under sensation have a different rationale. These units, however, which are perceived only by the mind, have a different rationale; for there is both communion and difference in the units that fall under sensation and those [perceived] by the intellect. For it is true that thirty-six, a square number, whether it be considered within matter or outside of matter, is a solid number. And both have a point, a line, a surface, and solidity. But consider the distinction. Naturally, that square number, which is considered in matter and is dissolved into matter, has three intervals with material parts; for a unit is one thing concrete insofar as the unit is considered in things falling under sensation. Furthermore, the one has three boundaries or three ends: *a, b, c*; and this one, concrete with parts, has again *a, b, c*. And of this concrete one, any line taken has *a, b, c*, and that uniquely in the points themselves, distinctly placed. And the surface placed in the same way in each point has *a, b, c*; and, finally, the whole solid has *a, b, c*. Moreover, since the unit is in matter, the one is concrete, as Theon, Plato, and Pythagoras clearly teach. But because the one is materialized, it has *a, b, c*; therefore the concrete unit also has *a, b, c*; and these are common to the solid, the surface, the line, and the point. For there are not other boundaries or ends above or below these, however much and of whatever kind the quantity itself may be.
A And other things also, which belong to the solid, are common to this, except for the distinction in the smallest parts; for breadth, length, depth, line, and surface are common by way of likeness. But if you consider the order and the conception, they are neither entirely material nor entirely devoid of matter. For one thing is material, but another is devoid of matter. Yet in their point there is not a common likeness. For those things which belong to one material thing, as a unity, have a, b, and c, for that which is material is one. But that which is devoid of matter is not entirely lacking in intervals. This, however, is the unit: for it does not possess a, b, and c through a capacity, nor in such a way that it has a, b, and c when it is counted with others. Nor is it one in these things devoid of matter in such a way as that which is another's unit. Wherefore, in numbers, the privation of a, b, and c belongs only to the prime unit: because this unit is devoid of matter. In which simple unit, indeed, neither intensity nor remission can be conceived. B Nevertheless, wherever you turn, whether in matter or outside of matter, a, b, and c are common, and they receive intensity and remission not from quantity, but from quality, just as they also receive equality and inequality from quantity. Wherefore composition, division, and other properties of a unit in material things that are numerable do not despoil the one itself of matter, since where there is matter, there also is a, b, and c; both in the whole and in the part; but a, b, and c do not exist in the unit alone. Furthermore, when the unit is understood as progressing and advancing itself towards couplings, then it receives those affections which composite figures are wont to receive, namely, that it may be measured by quantity and understood by quality. Wherefore neither in the number which is perceived by the mind alone, nor in the quantity which falls under the senses, does intensity and remission exist, but in the quality: C since both types of numbers—that is, both those that fall under the senses and those that are perceived by the mind—are circumscribed and terminated by the endpoints a, b, and c, both as a whole and in part, with the sole exception of the primary unit, which is devoid of all intervals. But if anyone does not distinguish intensity and remission from equality and inequality, in the way we have stated, it will result that of two equal things, one might be unequal by way of intensity, and the other by way of remission. For the endpoints are common. For, even as those who hold the contrary opinion to ours concede, there is intensity in two numbers when compared with one another, both of which consist either of an even and an odd, or of an odd and an even, or both of which are even, or both of which are non-composite. But this is not a matter of quantity, but of quality. And these things indeed pertain to numbers, both the material and those devoid of matter, and likewise to the line and to the surface. Let there be, therefore, a line unequal to a surface in terms of quantity. For either a is taken away, and then of the three there remain b, c; or c is taken away, and then of the three there remain a, b. Wherefore the line is indeed smaller, but the surface is larger; let therefore a, b, c, d, e, f be a surface, and in the same way, a, b, c, d. D
A It has been shown previously that [the line] is both smaller and contrary to itself. For what is larger [is] opposed to the smaller, as a contrary, which is indeed absurd. But surely this cannot be. For how could it be admitted? B Similarly, a b c will also be larger than b c and every line, but smaller than a b c d and every surface; and it will be for itself smaller and larger at the same time. In like manner also it is contrary to itself; for the smaller is a contrary to the larger: which is absurd. Neither is this the case. For how can there be room for it, and indeed contraction and intension are not in quantity? For things that are compared with one another must have a sameness of kind. Therefore line should be compared to line, surface to surface, and solid to solid; and in those, if they are compared by quantity, there is equality and inequality, but not intension and remission, as is to be seen in the case of these figures—for they are equal and unequal in quantity; for the three [is] equal to three, but unequal to six; and the six is equal to six, but unequal to nine, and further unequal to three; and the nine [is] equal to nine, but unequal to ten, and also C to the eleven. And this [continues] ad infinitum. Inequality is a tension and remission according to quality, not quantity; for there is neither tension nor remission in quantity, as is evident from the figures, which are unequal in quantity. For things that are compared with one another must be of the same genus. A line, therefore, should be compared with a line, a surface with a surface, and a solid with a solid. In all of these, if they are compared with one another in respect of quantity, there exists equality and inequality, but not intension and remission; as, for example, is to be seen in these figures which are equal and unequal in quantity: for the number three is equal to the number three, but unequal to the number six; the same six is equal to the six, but unequal to the nine and also to the three; the same nine D is equal to the nine, but unequal to the ten and also to the eleven; and this can be produced ad infinitum. For an unequal thing is always said to be in relation to an equal. And one can be compared with another, as the large with the small. But intension and remission have their place in them by reason of quality. For it is by this reason that they seem to have a place in surface and in line. But they are one thing, and another is the rea...
reason for the other. Neither union nor self-quantity gives tension or remission to quantity, nor will it deprive quality of tension and remission, which is the property of the other A. And since tension and remission do not belong to the other, but to that which is different, the square a b c d is not something other than y φ ω χ; it differs, rather, in the quantity of the unequal, yet is the same in quality, or rather in tension and remission. Thus, the lesser is not "other" than the greater, but is different, yet of the same form and of the same essence and quality. Therefore, the irascible or any other faculty, when compared to one of the same kind, is not "other," but "different" in tension or remission, if it differs. And these things have been shown B as they ought to have been shown. Wherefore, he who judges should not distinguish the irascible or the concupiscible part as "other" from that which is of the same kind, because of the remission or tension arising from quality, if peradventure he should be deceived by the equal and unequal in quantity according to these rational principles; for he has an accurate demonstration. And thus, C just as it is perceived by the mind, equality and inequality inhere in quality and indeed in every thing because of quantity; but tension and remission inhere because of quality. And by the former, things are said to be "other," but by the latter, they are called "different": certainly neither union nor quantity will give tension and remission to any degree; nor, furthermore, will it deprive quality of tension and remission. And since tension and remission do not make a thing "other," but bring about dissimilarity, therefore the quadrangle a b c d will not be "other" than the quadrangle y x z v. They differ, however, among themselves by the inequality of quantity, and if you look to quality, by dissimilarity, that is, by tension and remission. The smaller triangle, therefore, is not "other" than the larger, but dissimilar. Now, they are of one form, of one essence, and of one quality. The irascible, therefore, and any other quality of the same species, when compared with another, will not be "other," but "different" due to the difference of tension and remission. And these things have been demonstrated as they ought to have been demonstrated. Wherefore, no one should point out as "other" the irascible or the concupiscible who is more or less irascible or more or less concupiscible, since they are of the same species. Nor should one be deceived by the equality or inequality of quantity. For he has in these discourses an accurate demonstration. And in this way, the wise man will observe the natural communications of the animal endowed with reason, and with what sort of disposition D
it is endowed, he will be able to know each one. Nor will he ever be deceived, for he will distinguish that which is superior by nature from that which is by position, and will apply to each thing that which is suitable, since he possesses all these communications as demonstrated. Let no one, however, stop his knowledge at mere sight, so as to be deceived by the color of individuals and suppose that what is within is of the same sort. B For there exist many signs in medicine and natural science demonstrated, from which one is able to know things pertaining to material dispositions. Therefore, just as if by some Lydian stone with these arguments, taking the signs from those sources, let him test how he might refute the things that are hidden, and the being from the not-being, and whatever is encompassed throughout these arguments, by which also the aim, having begun toward a most excellent end, will reach its goal by the power of the superior. Just as often therefore as someone wishes to judge from those signs, let him test his conjectures by these our discourses as if by a Lydian stone, so that he may be able to investigate hidden things and to distinguish that which is not from that which is. Finally, let him note diligently what we have comprised in these discourses, the scope of which, since it tends toward an optimal end, will also possess a happy and optimal outcome, with the help of God the Best and Greatest.
OF THEODORE LASCARIS, SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DUCAS, ON NATURAL COMMUNION, DISCOURSE FIVE
1. There are two things proposed for examination: that which is by nature, and that which is by position. Of these two, there is something common, namely difference. Therefore, having followed the investigation C precisely up to the rational animal itself, these things we have categorized according to the investigation and position. Is there, then, in these things, a commonality or a difference? How...
A exactly did the division of commonalities, found in so many ways, separate those things which are by nature from those that are by position? And did it demonstrate, through the division that emerged simultaneously, the difference of those which are superior? Now, things are superior in nature B in proportion to how closely they follow the principles. I mean by principles the humors and the parts of the soul of the rational animal, since it is from such things that the wise animal, man, is composed. Whether, then, the things that show the difference in commonality, by positing certain simple commonalities, have gathered together that which is different in summary, establishing the conjugations as immutable symbols. For either the commonality is general and natural, and the one composed from it is straight and good, or something is lacking that is required for perfection—and he who is formed from this commonality would lack something—or it is intermediate, and consequently those formed from it are intermediate, or it is defined by a larger or smaller portion of quality. And those constituted from this will follow the cause of their constitution and origin; for the first causes of commonalities, as has been said, are in human beings the humors, the irascible faculty, reason, and desire. Following these is the commonality of education. For as is form in matter, so is education in human beings; to the extent that, if one has not heard anything from someone, even if he possesses an excellent nature, one would never say that he has acquired knowledge. Many, moreover, have experienced this to be true. Wherefore education contributes greatly to the perfection of man. Education, however, is manifold: for every discipline is brought back to the general. The general A is differentiated in various ways: into philosophy, into military command, into navigation, into weaving, into goldsmithing, into shepherding, into cooking, into masonry, and into many others beyond these. Those, therefore, which share in the general are, as is reasonable, the best. And this is philosophy; for it is the knowledge of things insofar as they are things. I say "as is reasonable," not because I think the cobbler philosophizes, but because the cobbler, who makes shoes, ought to work according to reason, and likewise the weaver and the silversmith in the execution of each individual task according to that same model. For the architect is also called wise, not because he is philosophizing, but because B he moves the saw and the hatchet according to reason for the sake of building. For all arts are referred to one single idea of philosophy in each case. And the general needs much philosophy in councils, in judgments, in the marshaling and formation of the army, in naval battles, in sieges, and in many other deeds, both spoken and unspoken. For the military art has the material of its works and indefinable objects. All these things, therefore, are brought back to philosophy: it is, in truth, as the eye and peak of education. Let us therefore clearly teach which things consist by nature and which by position; from their ends, moreover, we shall be able to recognize this very fact. For ends also indicate the beginning and the cause. For just as the proportion C of the parts of a circle and the comparison with the elements shows that which consists by nature and that which is by position—and in the same way, the proportion and comparison of the humors with the elements shows the same thing—so too do the conjugations of commonalities display the natural properties of the rational animal, and how they are good and praiseworthy,
and in what way they are not, things which pertain more to position than to nature; thus it is that in sciences A and arts, the natural and the positional are revealed. But if someone, looking at everything as belonging to nature, and that every art is of science, and therefore that all things are of nature, or that nothing is of nature, or that all things are of science or that there is no science at all, he is misled. For we do not strive to show another nature outside of nature, but rather those things which do not happen according to nature, or things not done well and purely; for example, nature invented the sword as a thing, but someone moves it irrationally—does it follow therefore that nature invented the sword B irrationally? Certainly not. Or because nature gave the gift of eating, which is best for living creatures—does eating to the point of gluttony introduce harm? Did nature give eating to animals for their harm? And how could that be? For when nature, in hastening to bring into being that which did not exist, how would it prepare that for the purpose of constitution which has the power of destroying? This, surely, is not of nature. Conversely, nature wished for animals to eat, not so that the animals might be destroyed, but rather that they might be better constituted and strengthened. But how does it happen that there are sometimes excesses due to the perverse tempering of natural properties, and that many things not rightly constituted and formed are brought to light? For instance, it is of nature that a hand has five fingers, not six; nature would have created it as a destructive thing, had it been so? That is not of nature. Nature created it to eat, not as something destructive to those sustained C by food, but rather as something constitutive. But how can some temperament gain an advantage over natural properties, and introduce things that do not come about according to a straight line? For example, that a hand must have fingers is of nature, but that it should have six? There are some hands that are six-fingered; and the fact that the hand has fingers is of nature; but that it has more is indeed of nature, but of nature missing its mark. It has, therefore, a certain power over incidental things. Are, then, the things in nature good? And [are] the non-good [things also in nature]? And the good things [are] equal, while the non-good things occur through deficiencies D and excesses.
2. All things, then, are referred to nature, and all learning to general education, to which philosophy is as an eye and a pinnacle. But many, reasoning irrationally, assume [the existence of] things not according to nature. Yet their reasoning is irrational, because they assume things not according to nature. It is not, however, in my opinion, a matter of things not of nature, but of nature itself, though failing or lacking. And the matters of education are the same. For since some even maintain their own distinctions while praising them, saying "the law said so," and yet not having seen the book of the law, it is possible that the impulse, the point from which they are stirred to speak their opinion, might originate from science; but to say that, and to say it not according to the rules of science, is not the mark of a man well-exercised in science. And we notice this happens to many, whom we pity and therefore spare. We have said these things, however, in order to show that we do not wish in this writing of ours to propose some other nature, since nature and those things which usually occur in nature through [the variations of] temperaments
and properties, we have decided to treat. Now all things A in nature, and every art, are comprehended under knowledge. But they differ among themselves either by excellence, or by quality, or by custom, or by the equality or inequality of quantity, or by tension and relaxation, and by other reasons; as, for example, music is held in esteem at Corinth, but weaving in Thessaly, philosophizing in Nicaea, and the leather-working craft in Philadelphia. Now both of these are matters of education, but each city deems precious that which it esteems. They differ also in quality, just as sweetness belongs to quality, and saltiness belongs to quality. Yet it can happen that what is held in delight by some is not sought after by others. Both, however, are referred to quality. Customs differ, as a weaver who is accustomed to weave one part of a piece of work differs from him who is accustomed to weave another part. [They differ] by equality and inequality, as in Egypt there is an abundance of fruits of every kind, but among the Coans, although there are all kinds of fruits, there is not as much quantity as among the Egyptians. And although fruits of every kind are similarly possessed among the Coans, they differ nevertheless in B equality and inequality; furthermore, by tension and relaxation, as Aristotle philosophizes, and Simplicius also philosophizes. Now philosophy is a quality, and it admits of tension and relaxation, and [it exists] according to tension and relaxation. Therefore, Aristotle and Simplicius philosophize. For all these reasons, then, all things [are related] to philosophy, and all to generalship, and all to weaving, and all to goldsmithing, and all [things] to every single art to which they belong.
It has, moreover, the difference according to the communion and distinction of the categories in philosophy; but they are led back to substance, just as all things are, and so indeed are those things in nature [led back] to nature, even if it happens that they stray from the whole, or even if they proceed at an equal rate with the natural rhythm. But the ends of these things are some better, and others worse. Wherefore they are not judged according to nature; for if they were judged according to nature, music would be esteemed in Thessaly just as it is in Corinth; for all harmonies and orders of music are of theory. But harmony and order always contribute to the inhabitation of cities and of the universe; since [music contributes to] cities, B but the weaving art does not constitute a city. For the one, being removed, will cause them to vanish, but the other, being removed, will not cause them to vanish because it has been removed; so the one is necessary, the other is useful. But that which is necessary is always more natural; therefore, music is also more natural than weaving. But if anyone does not know what order and harmony are, let him examine matters concerning the weaving art; for he will find that harmony and order exist therein, too. And this is evident. Nay more, also concerning buildings by the same reasoning. And in every place that which is of order and harmony is more precious, because even the heaven itself and the earth and the whole universe—I mean of those things from heaven and earth and all things contained by them and
rhythm moves and holds them together; and what is more, there is also in the body a harmony of soul and matter—of equal and unequal, white and black, straight and circular, smallest and greatest, and certain other things—which, by coming together in this fashion by the creative power of God, controls and sustains them, even though He first partitioned and ordered them. And although the same is true of material parts—I mean the humors—in their proportion and order, the wonderful thing is that even in the parts of the soul there is order and harmony, so that they might not exalt themselves above their limits, or be diminished, or be dissolved. A
3. So nothing is outside of nature, but all things have a relation to it, some more naturally, others more remotely. For [the weaver's] art contributes to the fellowship of the state, yet not as music does. And one must not be misled by custom and [mistakenly] honor that which is not honorable. Since in music there is order and harmony, and all things in musical terms exist where there is also order and harmony, while the weaver's art possesses neither the whole of music, nor is it within all of music; hence music is more natural, since it is more universal and more essential. And what is more natural [is] by necessity more precious; therefore musical knowledge is for these reasons more precious. For this reason, let no one be misled regarding these things, nor by the customs or relations of the other things mentioned above, nor finally by other properties of these properties, and in regard to other differences of these aforementioned things. For what is by nature is distinct and separate from what is by position and by mixture. B There is, for instance, in Nicaea, the field of philosophy valued, and in Philadelphia, the trade of the tanner. And that the tanner's trade is a part of the city, [no one denies]. But there is a great difference between the two: for [philosophy], being something that permeates and unites the whole of nature, and as it were, searching through no part of nature that is uninvestigable, discovered the tanner’s trade, and having discovered it, ordered it according to a natural and rational arrangement; whereas the tanner's trade neither investigated nature to discover the builder's art, nor did it distinguish the goldsmith's trade. For both are of philosophy, and not of the tanner's trade. So that if the tanner's trade were perhaps to vanish, no one would ever say that cities had perished; but if philosophy were removed, the destruction of all things would follow much more certainly. Since the destruction of philosophy is the destruction of the many, philosophy is much more necessary and better. C
4. One must not, then, be misled by custom; for nothing divides the opinion of cities like custom, that dangerous instrument of virtue and vice. Both, then, philosophy and the tanner's trade, are of nature, but they differ in what is necessary and what is not always necessary. That one is honored in one place and the other is not, is a matter of custom; but both, namely philosophy and the tanner's trade, are of nature. But they are practiced in cities according as the interior prompting and inclination is more natural, or proceeds from temperament. For all are, by nature, ordered toward philosophy or toward the tanner's trade. But it is impossible [for them to be abandoned]. D
of nature, and by a more natural impulse and urge toward a temperament, they are esteemed by cities. For by their potential, all men are naturally philosophers or all are cobblers, but it is impossible for that which has been tempered into any kind of temperament to be easily altered. According to their principles, even the art of generalship and the smallest other art is a comparison based on better or worse; for example, the military art protects cities and nations, whereas the pastoral art does not. For many cities live and persist without tending herds, but not one city is without a military force, as, for example, the Milesians are not cowherds, but are most experienced in naval warfare, as are countless other cities. Therefore, consider this, O discerner. For one [art] requires more philosophical discourse, and by achieving more, would be, as it were, both more natural and more honorable, as it requires many modes of philosophy and possesses many; yet the other also has need [of some], though not in the same way, so that that which approaches knowledge among all sciences and arts exists as more honorable. If, then, you refer all things back, you will find, upon examining them, that they are reduced to general education, as has been said.
5. It is, however, useless to examine each thing individually, but rather to understand all things from a few. A For you might see that all things are of knowledge, the more honorable and the less honorable, the worse and the better, and those which are according to equality and inequality, having tension and relaxation B and the distinction; yet all things belong to knowledge. For every art shares in general education, C just as in the center of a circle, to which all straight lines entering from the circumference fall. But also by nature every temperament is united to a temperament according to the same principle, and there is nothing that is not of nature, and there is no art which is not of education; and as every temperament has communion and distinction from temperaments, so too in the case of arts there are communions and distinctions—for naval warfare is more akin to horsemanship than weaving is, and metallurgy is more akin to coppersmithing than to pastoral art, and some are akin to others. This, moreover, must also be understood in the case of nature, as has been said regarding the mixtures of humors and the elements. Everything, therefore, that is of nature has, as has been said, harmony and relationship. For harmony and relationship constitute the world, the city, the village, and the household. And those things which occur according to natural principles indeed unite certain divided things, yet not rightly—for instance, when some ruler is fond of the pastoral art: this is a temperament; and that it was nature that showed the pastoral art, [this is] from education. The thing being loved is natural, but he who loves does not love naturally; for what does the pastoral art have in common with a ruler? But another is fond of philosophy; this is truly natural, and it is also according to temperament. For there is a temperament of the ruling art and the pastoral, but here of the ruling [art] and the ruling...
art] necessary, while the other is base? Therefore, what does the pastoral contribute to the ruling art? For this reason also, some have mocked the wise Philo, because he said that good shepherds are good kings. The poet indeed calls kings shepherds of the people, not speaking physically and demonstratively, but rhetorically and as if hypothetically, and with poetic license; for he sets this forth as an example, not that a king must be a shepherd of herds, but that the king is like a shepherd. He also presents the battles of frogs and mice, making clear a pattern of heroes for lesser men. Let someone consider Troxartes as Agamemnon, and Physignathus as Priam; this is an example of weaker men. Now the goal proposed to wise Homer is to praise virtue, and for this reason he captures every form of knowledge to this end. Therefore, no ruler is a shepherd of cattle or of any other flock, even if he has as many flocks as there are blades of grass; but that ruler who is a philosopher is blessed, even if he rules only a single household. For there is no knowledge that escapes the true philosopher. This which has been spoken of B is an example. After this, there are myriads of things following it, some more natural and some not natural, which fall into certain communions, in one way or in another; and even if they are different, or else have other qualities, they gather together at the center, which is universal education.
As has been stated, they exist; and if one brings some other examination to these things, he will always find communions and separations among the arts. I say that, just as in the cases mentioned, he will also always find all things, and that they communicate, or do not communicate, with each one communicating with each one regarding science; for from there is, as it were, the whole idea of education, and temperaments according to the same principle. For all things, as has been said, both communicate and are distinguished from one another. Regarding nature, the assembly of all things constitutes that which is specific communion. This comes to pass in the city, the world, the village, the household, and indeed even in the individual. For in the rational animal, communion manifests in three ways; for it is either by temperament, or by nature, or by education. And in natural communion there is also education, but in temperament there is not always education, except according to the reasons we have brought forward, namely that every entity of nature, whether it be good or not, and every art, likewise [relates] to science, and that from these it has its union. And thus, with natural communion, as has been said, education is always intertwined. For even a thief C shares in theft with a thief; but what is the intervening education? But also a craftsman with a craftsman; but this is by temperament, just as was said above. It differs in that the one is blended by nature and by education, while the other is of neither nature nor education. For there is no one nature, that is education.
THEODORUS II IMPERATOR DE COMMUNIONE NATURALI
A it brings about destruction, unless it is unreasonably wronged by those who wish to do wrong. Education is always a natural communion, whether partially, as it is for parents, since the natural relationship there is more partial, or universally, as when a good man by preference communes with every good man; for this is what education is. My argument, however, is not that he who does not know education does not commune with those with whom he communes philosophically, but rather that he who acts well is philosophizing. This acting well belongs to the general, or the ruler, or the craftsman, or the friend of philosophy and wisdom; for these things are, as it were, echoes of the primary thing. For there is no learning, if it is not from pre-existing knowledge, and there is no good knowledge without some part of education; for both knowledge and education are everywhere, and they have an intertwined grasp of things. And where the things of education are known, and where they are unknown—for example, that one learning generalship is taught to know what is necessary, possible, and false, and how, on the one hand, to escape these, and, on the other, to know and do them, or that one must besiege or fortify strongholds in this way, and according to other principles—this is a part of philosophy. For nature has scattered knowledge throughout the rational animal, in some places creating it as a craft, in others giving it by potentiality, and in others even essentially, though not entirely, but a part, yet even this from the whole. Even if the general does not know the science, yet if he acts according to the true patterns, he is philosophizing, even if unknowingly; and this belongs to a man of natural wisdom, B who naturally knows the good and noble, although he has also had certain teachings, which entered his mind obscuredly. For certain sayings of philosophy are naturally inclined to enter the mind, even if spoken as it might chance, but received, albeit unskillfully, yet by the purity of nature, naturally. For the mind is receptive, even if someone says something to it not directed at it. It has not left off natural communion and education; but as for that by blending, it is sometimes present and sometimes not. For everyone communes with everyone both naturally and by blending. Yet there is also where it is by blending, and something by nature, and where it is by nature, and something by blending. And it is found that of the one who has a more natural communion, the blending that is in him is also rational; while for the one who acts more by blending, the natural power leading him there is dissolved and foreign; and this is well-known. These things, however, require another explanation, so as to show from this how the better exists; and it is this.
A Alexander has a communion with Aristotle, and Marcus with Hermogenes; both, therefore, are kings and wise, and friends, full of instruction, but they differ. Let no one be deceived into thinking that kings are not friends of instruction, even if the one is of the highest, and the other of one much inferior to this; for both are philologists and lovers of learning. Let it be added also that this communion was truly natural, and the better part of this difference possesses both intensity and its opposite. For one is a philosopher and a rhetorician and everything else, while the other is a rhetorician and a man of wide learning. Thus there is intensity in the one, as he holds many parts and all, and as it were the whole quality, while there is difference in that he also has collected diverse parts. And the service and kingdom of Alexander possesses rhetoricians, and that of Marcus possesses philosophers. Indeed, the one loves Aristotle, the other Hermogenes—yet both are good. The analogy among them has much strength: for as philosophy is to rhetoric, Alexander is to Marcus; so therefore, as philosophy is to rhetoric, Alexander is to Marcus. The difference, therefore, is not in any other principles, but in different ones, since general knowledge is a certain quality. Thus, intensity and remission produced the better thing, and all those sciences abound in virtue and probity. B There is also for them a communion according to tempering and according to nature, since all were commonly possessed of instruction, and insofar as it was of a better and more natural sort. Titus also has Apollonius, Iamblichus, and Porphyry as friends, while Nero has flute-players and female flute-players. And that the philosophy of men refers to nature, so too is the inspired art of the flute related to nature. But it is an absurdity for a ruler to commune entirely with songs; for this is the mark of a soul that has become dissolved and effeminate; but for kings to have wise men as friends is the best thing. As, therefore, the ends of men compare to the ends of male and female flute-players, so too do these compare to those; and since these are in such relation to them, so Titus, the friend of the wise, compares to the womanish Nero. As, therefore, philosophy is to the trifles of music, so is the wise Titus to the shameful Nero. Some say that once, when Titus heard that those philosophers were standing before his gates (for the gates were closed and barred in the royal manner), and that one of those philosophers had indicated that they might be let in if it pleased him, Titus replied: "I desire my gates to be open to all philosophers." But Nero, impudently crowned, danced shamefully in the sight of the theater. Are not, therefore, the communions that exist through science more natural and to be held in much greater value than those according to tempering and the lesser things, as the end of the rulers has shown? Shall not
that which exists by nature always be superior and more precious than that which exists by position, unless one is misled by the facts, and, deceived by the nobility of lineage or country or parents, makes his associations unreasonable? For to all wise men and those who act wisely, virtues and an honest life are esteemed, and this is the true and divine nobility. A All other things, which are by position and far from what is by nature, are overlooked. For those who direct the games and provide the prizes and bestow the victory, and those who oversee the banquets, teach this. That those who contend and those who drink are not equal in their kind is obvious; yet they are equal in the honor, so that no one would receive the prize unless the one who is the victor, and alone so, in terms of both the contests and the drinking. The chief is a companion of those who contend, and the overseer of those who drink, for he is the overseer of these as well. B Are there not, then, in this case both tempering and instruction? And while in one case the victory is more natural, in the other it is by position only. But in both there is tempering; and in the one, drunkenness is a most unreasonable exercise, whereas in the athletic contest there is a certain instruction; for the one who, being competitive, constitutes the prize by nature, constitutes this: for there are in that place works of battle, the discus, the race, boxing, wrestling, and jumping, all of which are useful, beneficial to the state, to order, and to life, even if one finds pleasure in such things. But the overseer of the Sardanapalian and Bacchic sort, looking only to unreasonable pleasure, brings the pursuit of this to no end; one honors those who contend, the other those who drink. The former is more natural, the latter is most ignoble. Is that which exists by nature, then, not superior to that which exists by position? And truly, every man would say it is, for it possesses much of the truth. There are also other things, how they are partly connected to these, and how they differ: the art of leading an army is next to the primary architectonic art. Then medicine, for this also is philanthropic. Agriculture, however, is common. And if one considers agriculture according to true principles, he will find it full of instruction. Let no one be offended that the farmer does not know these principles, but let him rather note diligently that the art of agriculture exists according to principle. For just as the art of navigation receives its signs from the primary art, though the navigator cannot give an account of how these things come to be, so also the farmer, having received from that first art the actions that have been taught as is fitting, performs them without questioning; for the primary art gathered this craft together through demonstrative and necessary arguments. Since the multitude was to practice it, having handed down certain agreed-upon doctrines to the first, these were transmitted to those who followed, even until now without scrutiny and without examination. The poet Hesiod also bears witness that the theoretical [art] is from the primary one, as are all others; for it examines both seasons and places and principles and facts, and, having examined them, it makes, as it were, a more noble tradition. And this is because of the...
A natural temperament, a communion more worthy of love, and not merely one of temperament and position. For these men are equal in honor, since they are kings, but the one is magnanimous and a partner of the great and magnanimous, while the other is small-minded and a partner of tavern-keepers. For Trajan was once called father because of his goodness, Nero a beast, and Xerxes a tavern-keeper, because he was excessively eager to peddle the natures of things, fashioning for himself golden plane trees with leafy branches, or rather, ones that shed their leaves even faster than the trees themselves. B So he fancied that he, by position, was of these or others, even though there were ten thousand of them, and he was esteemed by position; but what is by nature is both honorable and, properly and most particularly, most honorable. A weaver also loves a king—this is natural; for the least is drawn up toward the whole, and a king admits a stonemason. This is philanthropic; for the whole bears its parts. C Consider, moreover, that these things are reasonable; for I did not say that a weaver shares in a communion with a king, but that he loves him; nor yet does a king share in a communion with a stonemason, but he admits him; so that "admitting" belongs to someone, and not to the whole communion. For where the name of communion is placed, it signifies the symphony of those participating. For each person is such as those with whom he is pleased to associate, just as a "friend" is another self. For one shares in communion with those who are like himself, but sometimes a person also admits those who are not like him, such as a horse, or an ox, or D a dog. For no one shares in communion with any horse, and no one...
fails to enter into communion with some human being. However, it sometimes happens that a man does not enter into communion with a certain man, but he does receive him; just as a soldier receives a guest, yet does not enter into communion with him. But with a fellow soldier he does enter into communion, whereas with a horse or a stone, or a pearl, or anything else of that sort, he does not enter into communion or society. A Furthermore, he enters into communion with food on account of the body’s constitution, but there is some difference. For some people prefer different foods for themselves, but there is no one who does not partake of food or receive it; and from food all understand that there is a nature and a tempering, and that nature is more excellent than tempering. For the difference in foods looks toward some end and consists in certain things. Wise men, however, prefer for themselves common things that are more in accordance with nature. Therefore, that which is by nature is superior in all things to that which is by custom. Moreover, the emperor also enters into communion with a physician; this is natural and humane. For there are three communions that are most appropriate for a ruler: philosophy, military service, and medicine, along with their respective characteristics. And concerning the first one, which is common and guides all things in many ways—how one ought to enter into communion with it—we have already spoken, clarifying it. For it is life-saving for these [people] and for all, and for this reason the ruler ought B to enter into communion with it, since he is the savior and guardian of souls and bodies. These two, since they are life-saving for the body after the former, are practiced in a greater or lesser way. For the one is the guardian of the entire human living being, while the other is only partial. For a man who is a physician is worth many others, but concerning a general: "One is worth ten thousand," clearly, one stands for all; for he did not say "ten thousand" [plurally], but "ten thousand" [as a collective unit], and this signifies "all." Therefore, the military art is the first, from which and by which the natural general exists, and we judge medicine to be the second. But we say that the ruler ought not to enter into communion with these other arts, but rather to administer them, issuing orders as if sitting upon some lofty height, so that all things are governed according to knowledge and nature. And let these things be said concerning the first; as for the others, they follow, as far as they are rational. For even the lowliest manual laborer needs some degree of rationality. Whoever, then, lives in this way, as has been said, is blessed, but he who does otherwise is wretched. C Since, however, that which is by nature has been found from all things in the world to be superior to that which is by custom, let no one be deceived into honoring what is not honorable or entering into communion with it. For there is one true nobility and honor—in living and non-living things, in those endowed with reason and those without it, and in all things—namely, the nobility that is by nature. And there is one communion, namely that which is by nature and so far as it pertains to knowledge; the others are not beneficial. Having examined these things, we have first stated what is to be said, and having summarized them in the sixth discourse, we shall now bring this treatise to a complete and perfect conclusion.
OF THEODORE LASCARIS, SON OF THE GREAT EMPEROR LORD JOHN DUCAS, ON NATURAL COMMUNION, SIXTH DISCOURSE.
Nature and science are the most necessary and first of all things; for by the former is brought together every temperaments, and by the latter all education. Among these are that which is by nature and that which is by position. I say that everything which is good is by nature, while that which indicates the good, the not-good, and the evil is by position. Whether, therefore, that which is by nature has been demonstrated in many ways to be more honorable than that which is by position, manifests that which accords with science is also more honorable than that which accords with art. For just as temperament is related to nature, so too is art related to science; and as nature is more honorable than temperament, so is science more honorable than art. For this reason, also, that which is produced according to science is more honorable than that which is produced according to art, just as that which is according to nature is more honorable than that which is according to temperament. Therefore, for these reasons, one must partake of virtue, for this is a mixture of both science and nature. For it requires both—since whoever is A in a good state of nature, if he does not also possess science, or a part of it, or even some echo of it, will never produce anything of virtue; just as he who has only heard of science, but lacks nature, will not produce anything good. It is impossible for anyone to know science truly and honorably unless he also possesses a very good nature. Nature, then, is a foundation and, as it were, matter; science is form and, as it were, disclosure. For just as we see stones that do not differ in shape, and others indeed skillfully and uniformly shaped, and we discern how the form has informed the matter therein—be it plants or other things—so too can we discern the lives of men, and thus hold communion with those who live in such a way; for we perceive that those who possess spherical or square shapes, possesses the form well. B For C this is the mixture of nature and science. For nature requires both, that is to say, virtue and science. For the more fortunate someone is by nature, if he does not possess science, or a part of science, or some image of science itself, he will never be able to act virtuously, just as he who has only grasped science but does not possess nature, cannot produce anything good. But it is impossible that anyone should hold science in a good and praiseworthy manner unless he is endowed with an entirely good nature. Nature, therefore, is like a foundation and matter; but science is the form and, as it were, the disclosure. For as we behold stones not differing in figure, and others shaped artificially and uniformly, and we discern in what manner the form has there informed the matter, whether plants or any other things, so too can we discern the kinds of living, and then have communion with those living in this or that manner. For when we observe that form proclaiming its goodness
A or the triangles, we recall first of all that which we mentioned, and which possesses, as it were, the whole power of the form. Since its entire surface is equally disposed toward the center and toward the mass, and allows for diminution or increase equally, the straight lines running to the center cannot be unequal, nor can those reaching toward the mass be so, because of the addition or the diminution; rather, they remain equal to one another. Furthermore, every diameter passing through its center is equal to all the others, whether in a smaller or in a larger globe. B Therefore, in terms of quality, the form first fashioned the sphere more excellently, and in the second place the square; but they differ in that the former always and from all sides bears its diameters and the lines drawn to the center in a perfectly equal manner, while the latter has equal parts, and even if it is divided or increased, it still possesses equal parts, except for the diameters, which it has partly equal to the center and partly unequal. For while some of the segments formed by these create an equal square again, others create a double. And this should be demonstrated in the following way. Let there be a square A B Γ Δ, and the diameters be B Γ and N Ω, which intersect upon being joined at the center X, dividing the whole into two trapezoids and likewise two triangles. Let N A be extended as far as Σ; let N Δ be as Δ Σ. Let Ω Γ and Γ Ψ be extended as A Γ. And let straight lines be drawn from the center to Θ and M, and again let C Θ be extended as far as Σ, just as Θ and the center X. Let Σ Ρ also be extended as far as Ψ, and it is the diameter N Ω, having its sides equal, forming a square equal to the square A B Γ Δ. For as X is the center and middle of Ν Ω, so also is N the middle of Β Δ, and likewise Ω is the middle of Δ Γ, but also Θ is the middle of Γ A, and M is the middle of Β Δ. Since the interval Μ Χ is equal to Χ Θ, and Θ Ρ is equal to Χ Μ, and things equal to the same thing are also equal to one another, then the intervals Η Χ, Χ Θ, and Θ Ρ are equal to one another, and toward the center X D [remainder of page text is diagram and figure description, continuing in the next section].
[The following is the translation of the Latin Column, integrated where appropriate to cover the unique technical description of the provided text]
...or the globe, in that manner inform circular, triangular, and square figures, then we recall that which we said. For that first, spherical figure is most excellent, which obtains, as it were, the whole force of the form. Since its entire surface is equally composed toward the center and toward the mass, and equally admits of subtraction and addition. Indeed, the straight lines which are carried to the center cannot be unequal, nor can those which tend toward the mass, whether you add or take away, but they will remain equal among themselves. Moreover, every diameter drawn through its center is equal to all diameters, both in a smaller and in a larger globe. First, therefore, the form, because of its quality, fashioned the globe more excellently. In the second place, the square. But they differ among themselves, because the sphere has diameters and lines drawn to the center equal on every side. The square, indeed, has equal parts, and whether it is cut or receives an increase, it again has equal parts, except for the diameters which it has, through lines drawn by the center, partly equal, partly unequal, since of the diameters of the squares some, when reduced into figures, make an equal square again, but others a double one. Which is to be demonstrated in this way. Let ABCD be a square, the diameters moreover two: BC, NO, which cut in the center P. The whole square into two trapeziums, and in the same way into two triangles. But let the line NA be produced as far as Q. Let the line AQ be as the line NA. Also let the line OC be produced as far as S, and let the line CS be as the line OC. Furthermore, let straight lines be drawn from the center to T and M, and again let T be produced as far as R: and let P be the center as T is the center: let the line QR also be produced as far as S: the square of the diameter NO having equal sides will be equal to the square ABCD. For as P is the center of the diameter NO, so also N is the middle of the line BA: and in the same way O is the middle of the line DC. Furthermore, T is the middle of the line CA, and M the middle of the line BD. Since, however, the interval which is between M and P is equal...
to the interval which is between P and T, it will also be that TR is equal to PM. But things that are equal to the same thing are also equal to one another. Wherefore the intervals MP, PT, and TR will be equal to one another. And since P is the center of the square ABCD, whose diameters are NO and MT, and the intervals MP, PT, and TR are equal to one another, T must necessarily be the center of the square NOSQ. And since as the square ABCD is to its center P, and furthermore as NO and MT are to the same center, so also is NOSQ to T, the center, and further as AC and PR are: the square SO, therefore, which is constituted from the diameter NO, is equal to the square ABCD. Of those things, namely, whose parts are equal, those themselves are equal to one another. The square, therefore, that is constituted from the diameter NO, acting as the initial line, having equal sides, is equal to the square ABCD, of which NO is the diameter. And this has been demonstrated by us as was required. It will also be demonstrated that the double of the square is produced in the following manner.
B 2. The diameter of a square, joined together with three lines equal to it, will produce a double square, of which it is the diameter. It is necessary, indeed, to demonstrate that this same diameter, joined together with these three equal sides, will produce a double square of that of which it is the diameter. Let the square ABCD be drawn, and let the diameter BC be drawn, and it will make the triangles BDC, ABC, and BC similar. Let there be drawn from the diameter BC a straight line to K equal to this same diameter, and likewise from BC to L equal to this, and moreover from L to C in the same ratio, and from C to B. Let the square constituted from these be cut by a diameter. Let there be drawn, therefore, from B to L a diameter, and from C to K which bisect one another at the center D. If, therefore, CB is equal to the line BK, which itself is the base of the triangle BCD, then BK is also the base of the triangle DKB. Therefore, the side CD is equal to the side BD, and the side KD is equal to the side BD, and the side BD is equal to the side CD. Of those things whose sides are equal, and whose bases are equal, the angles also are equal; for those things whose parts are equal are themselves equal. Therefore, to the triangle CBD, the triangle BKD is equal. Since, therefore, the triangle BK D is equal to the triangle CBD, and this is half of the square ABCD, the triangle DBC is also equal to the triangle of the square BCLK, which is equal to the triangle ACB. And since of the square BCLK, the triangle KDB is a fourth part, and it exists equal to the square BCD and to DBC. Therefore, the fourth part of the square BKLC is equal to the triangle BCD, which is the half of ABCD. Since, therefore, the two fourth parts of the square BKLC are equal to the two half parts of the square ABCD, of which CB is the diameter, it is gathered that BKLC is the double of the square ABCD. For of that of which the half is equal to another whole, the whole of that half is double the other. Wherefore the diameter of the corners of the square, having been made the side of the square, produces a double of that of which it is the diameter, which was to be demonstrated.
3. But it is not thus with the sphere, but otherwise, and for this reason the circular form is more uniform and more equal than the square. For in a circle
the lines drawn from the center, whether the circle is smaller or larger, are always equal; but the square does not behave thus in relation to its diameters. For the diameter taken according to the side of the lines, being set as a side, produces a square equal to that of which it is the diameter, but the diameter properly so called, that is, according to the angles, produces double the square. B Let me say something else, so that I may show that the circular form is more excellent and more perfect than the square and all other shapes, and to show that all parts of a circle are equal to the center, while this is not the case for the square; for one must cut the circle by its very diameters and show that all its parts are equal.
Let B C be a circle, and its center be X. Let the intervals be A C B D; and let a line be drawn from A through X, terminating in C; in the same way, let another line be drawn from D to B; and let both be diameters of the circle B C. Again, around the center B, let the circle N H be described; and let X N be one diameter, and H Φ the other. Similarly, around the center D, let the circle X Θ be described, and L Θ be one diameter, and R X the other. And again, around the center C, let the circle H M be described, and X M be one diameter, and Θ H the other. And again, around center A, let the circle Φ X be described, and E X be one diameter, and L Φ the other. I say, therefore, that the ends or termini of the diameters of the circle B C, namely B, C, D, A, are the centers of the circles Φ, N, H, H, M, E, Θ, R, L, A, E, Φ, C and the terminus of all these is X. The ends of the diameters of the circle B C, D which are B, Γ, Δ, A, are the centers of the other circles, and X is their terminus. Since the terminus of the B, Γ, Δ, A centers is X, and there exist the halves of these diameters, necessarily there also exist N, M, P, E as the ends of the exterior semicircles, being the halves of the N X, M X, P X diameters towards the center, and the terminus of all these is X. Now as for the B Γ circle, those lines from the center, even if they decrease or increase, are always equal, whereas the square does not hold itself thus according to the diameters.
For since the terminus of the diameters B, C, D, A are centers of other circles, and X is their terminus. Since the terminus of the B, Γ, Δ, A centers is X, and there exist the halves of these diameters, necessarily there also exist N, M, P, E as the ends of the exterior semicircles, which are the halves of the diameters N X, M X, E X. But since X B is half the diameter of the whole diameter D X B, given that its center is X, B X will also be half the diameter of the whole diameter N X, in circle N H. For since the center of circle A K is B, and their halves are equal, the wholes also are equal to one another: therefore the diameters will be equal to one another. The same principle applies also to the other diameters in the other circles. For as for the whole diameters, the half part of X M is X E. For since
A its center is C, the half part of the entire diameter M X will be C X in circle K M. Since indeed the center of this circle is C; and where the half parts are equal, the wholes also are equal, etc., as was said concerning diameter B X D in circle B C. In the same way, X D is the half part of the entire diameter of circle X T R. But where the half parts are equal, etc. And as X A is the half part of the entire diameter C X A in circle B C, since the center of this circle is X, so also in circle H X, A X will be the half part of the entire diameter E X. But where the half parts are equal to one another, the wholes also are equal to one another. Wherefore diameter N X will be equal to diameter B D, and diameter M X will be equal to diameter A C. Furthermore, diameter R X will be equal to diameter D B, and diameter E X will be equal to diameter A C, and each is equal B to each. For things which are equal to the same are also equal to one another, and things whose parts are equal, the wholes also are equal. Therefore, circles of equal diameters are equal, and all their extremities are equal to one another. And since the extremities of the sphere take up the same circles, the parts of which are equal to one another individually, their whole parts taken together will also be equal, and any diameter of this will be terminated by those centers. Indeed, if you were to construct a sphere, it would be equal to a sphere whose diameter is equal, and whichever figure the straight diameters might form, that same figure will be C finished. But even if you were to constitute a sphere equal to that of which is the diameter, the figures which the straight lines of the diameter will form will be equal to it, just as is the case for the circle; for the diameters Θ Γ, Ε Ι, Β Η, Λ Α, Φ Θ, Δ Λ of the circles formed the square Φ Η Θ Α, and this they will also do for the diameters of the sphere, which was to be demonstrated.
4. But one will not find this to hold for every line of a square, and the segment of the square drawn through the middle and the center; and again, to show that not every diameter drawn through the center and the middle D produces a result equal to the square, nor every diameter makes another equal to the same; one must therefore show that the diameters of the square are unequal, and the figures resulting from them [are unequal] [alt-version omitted] 4. But this which we show in the circle does not fall upon every line of the square, and every segment of the square, which are drawn through the middle and the center. And this same argument holds to prove that not every diameter of a square drawn through the center and the middle produces the same square as that whose diameter it is, nor does every diameter of a square make another square equal to the one whose diameter it is. It is necessary, therefore, to show that the diameters of the square are unequal: that the figures which are formed from these are also unequal. Let A B Γ Δ be [the square], it was previously shown that the B Γ diameter A B [N] [Q] [R] [T] [P] [M] [S]
constituted the B K Λ Γ square, of which the side was made to be the diameter itself. Now, A B Γ Δ has two triangles, namely Δ B Γ, and [the square] B K Λ Γ has four triangles equal to these two—A B K, A K Δ, Δ Γ B, and the two middle ones being equal; the whole is double it, that is, of A B Γ Δ; therefore, the B K Λ Γ square is double. The diameter of the angles of the square, therefore, forms a square double to it, which was to be demonstrated. It is also necessary to demonstrate the proven points in a generally agreed manner. One must therefore demonstrate that also the N Ω diameter of the straight lines of the A B Δ square, once placed as the side of a square, creates one equal, and again [forms] it, which is the diameter. Since, therefore, N is the mean proportional on either side of the side B A of the A B Γ Δ square, and there is also N Σ equal to Δ B, as was demonstrated, and Δ is the mean proportional of Σ N. And since Ω is the end of the N diameter of the A B Γ Δ square, and the ends of the side Δ B are Γ Δ, and B Ω is the mean proportional to Δ Γ. And since angle Δ is the mean proportional to the side N Σ, and angle Γ is the mean proportional to the side Ω Ρ; for if equals are added to equals, all are equal; and since X, as if [it were] the center of A B Γ Δ, is the mean proportional to the N Ω diameter, and N Ω is equal to A B, but indeed also necessarily to Δ Γ, then Θ is the center of the N Ω Γ Σ square, since Θ is the mean proportional to the side N Σ. For as N Ω is the diameter of the A B Γ Δ square, of which X is the center, so [it is] also of the N Ω Γ Σ square, of which Θ is the center. For as M Θ is equal to Ω N, so [is] X Ψ to A Γ; and as A Γ is equal to N Σ, so [is] Ω Φ to Σ Ρ, and therefore X Ψ likewise to Θ M. For since A B is equal to N Σ, but also to B Δ, and B Δ is equal to Δ Γ, and Δ Γ is equal to Γ A, and Γ Λ is equal to A B, and if N Σ is equal to the equal A B, it is equal to all those equal to it. Again, since N Σ is equal to A B, but also Σ Φ is equal C to Ρ Ω, and Ρ Ω is equal to Ω N, and N Ω is equal to N Σ, if N Σ is equal to [something], Δ B is equal to those equal to it. And since the sides of the A B Γ Δ square are equal to those of N Σ Ρ Ω, these also are equal. For those things which were added to equals are equal, and all are equal, and those of which the parts are equal are also equal, and their diameters are equal, and their centers possess equal places, and therefore X and Θ, into which they are centers, are also equal. The diameter of the square, therefore, taken from the side, [forms] an equal to the square from which it was, which was to be demonstrated; and since
[alt-version omitted]
D the center of the square A B C D is at T. But the line N O is equal to the line A B, and furthermore to the line D C; thus, T will necessarily be the center of the square N O S Q. For as N O is the diameter of the square A B C D, whose center is P, so also A C is the diameter of the square N O S Q, whose center is T. For as the line M T is equal to the proportional diameter N O, and that mean [line] is the center of the square A B C D. But N Q is equal to the line A B, as was demonstrated previously; indeed, A [as] another mean will be proportional to the line Q N. But since N is the diameter of the square A B C D, the terminus is: but C and D are the termini of the side A B, therefore O will similarly be the mean proportional of the side D C. And since the middle angle A is proportional to the side N Q, the angle C will also be the mean proportional to the side O S. For if equals be added to equals, all are equal. But since P is the center of the proportional diameter N O, and that median is the middle [proportional] of the square A B C D. Moreover, N Q is equal to the line A B, as was demonstrated before; indeed, the other mean A will be proportional to the line Q N. But since the terminus of the diameter N of the square A B C D is O: and C and D are the termini of the side A B, O will be in the same way the mean proportional of the side D C. And since the middle angle A is proportional to the side N Q, the angle C also will be the mean proportional to the side O S. For if equals are added to equals, all are equal. Since, however, P is the center of the square N O S Q. For as N O is the diameter of the square A B C D, whose center is P: so also A C is the diameter of the square N O S Q, whose center is T. For as the line M T is equal to the line N O, so also P R is equal to the line A C. And that the diameter of the straight lines N O, of the square A B C D, if it be made the side of a square, constitutes a square equal to the one of which it is the diameter. And since the line A B is equal to the line N Q: so also the line O S is equal to the line Q S. The line P R is therefore equal to the line T M. For when line A R is equal to the line N Q and also to the line B D, the line B D will also be equal to the line D C, and the line D C equal to the line C A, and the line C A equal to the line A B. But if the line N Q is equal to the line A B, it is equal to all that are equal to this. Again, since the line N G is equal to the line A B; and furthermore the line Q S is equal to the line S O, and S O is equal to the line O N, and the line O N is equal to the line N Q: if the line A B is equal to the line N Q, as it is equal, it is also equal to all, and equal to all that are equal to it. And since the sides of the square A B C D are equal [to the] late-
- ral, A that is, the principal diameter of the square, the one drawn from the corners, makes it double, while the one drawn from the sides makes it equal to it; therefore, not all its parts are equal, which was to be demonstrated. It is necessary also to posit that its diameters are diameters of a circle and to show that they are unequal, which is easy, and if this is so, then also that the spheres are unequal. Of the square A B C D, there are two diameters, B Γ and N Ω. It is necessary to show that they are diameters of unequal circles, and if they appear so as circles, they are necessarily so as spheres. Let B Γ be the principal diameter B of the corners and the circle, and let N Ω be another, and that which is in the middle of these, and as it were a center, be X—for this is not properly a center, but a midpoint; for, according to my account, a center differs from a midpoint in that the straight lines falling from the circumference to the center are equal to one another, C whereas regarding this midpoint, it is [the case] that while all lines fall into it, they are not all equal to one another. So we say that a center in a circle and sphere is named properly; for every center is a midpoint, a point, and an extremity—but if anything is a midpoint, it is not immediately a point, or an extremity, or a center. Just as not every straight line drawn through the midpoint and terminated by it is properly a diameter, but [rather] simply so. D Truly, the diameter is properly that which connects the greater extremities [delimited] by them, such as B Γ; and the principal and most principal and foremost is the one X Θ, which is equal to all those diameters of which it is the diameter. I say, then, that B Γ, for which X is the midpoint, being posited as a diameter, A [of the squares N Q S O, these themselves are also squares equal to one another—the squares A B C D, namely B C N O—it is necessary to show that they are the diameters of unequal circles. But if there are diameters of unequal circles, necessarily there will also be diameters of unequal spheres. Let B C be the diameter of the corners of the square, which is properly called a diameter, and let N O be the other; let X be the midpoint of these and as it were the center. For this is not properly a center, B but a midpoint. For in my judgment, a center differs from a midpoint in that all lines concurring from the circumference into the center are equal among themselves; whereas all lines may concur into a midpoint, but they are not equal. Wherefore we say "center" is used properly in a circle and sphere. For every center is a midpoint, a point, and an extremity; but if something is a midpoint, it is not immediately a point, or an extremity, or a center. Just as not every straight line C drawn through the midpoint and terminated by it is properly a diameter, but the diameter is properly that straight line which is bounded by two greater extremities, D
A and connects them, as BC, or even more especially and first among all, such as XT, which is equal to all the diameters of that circle of which it is the diameter. I say, therefore, that the diameter BC, of which X is the midpoint, assumes as a greater circle the circle PT, whereas the diameter NO, whose midpoint is likewise X, assumes the circle TM. Since, therefore, the diameter creates a square double that of which it is the diameter (for the square described from the diameter of the square is double the square whose diameter is the one that formed this), but the diameter known to us as equal to the B side, also describes a square of which it is the diameter, and this double is greater than the half, a circle that includes a greater diameter as its own diameter is necessarily greater than one that includes a lesser one as its own diameter. Thus the circle PT, taking BC, is greater than the one taking TM, that is, the circle NO. Therefore, the diameters of the square neither, when all are placed, make a square equal to this, nor do they all make one that is not equal, nor do they belong to equal circles. By the same reasoning, neither do all make a sphere equal, but some make it greater and some lesser, since the surface of a sphere is composed of circles; or if the diameters of the square are set, they will produce lesser and greater spheres just as they do circles. So it is not the case that, as it informed the matter for the circle and the sphere, the form likewise informed it for the square, nor for another. For the parts of the circle of [Ω] are all equal, and whatever the diameters of these circles produce, it is equal, as was shown; but the counterparts of the square do not all produce what is equal to it, nor all what is unequal, but some produce what is equal and some what is not. This applies also to other things, as was shown in the circles. The form therefore informed the matter more excellently for the sphere and the circle than for the square, and this was shown as it needed to be shown. This is also the case for the triangle and all others. And it is thus: the diameters of the triangle, those passing from the center and through the midpoint, if they are placed
A so as to produce larger or smaller circles, they will also produce larger or smaller triangles if their sides are placed. But those which pass from the primary center of the circle and through its midpoint will produce equal circles—if they are so placed—and indeed any other figure. Therefore, it is necessary to demonstrate that these circles are equal, and the triangle made from their diameters; and then that it is not thus with the triangle B by the center N and the center A; let circle ΓΗ be drawn with the interval EN, and by the center B, let circle ΣΛ be drawn with the interval XN; by the center C, let circle ΖΙ be drawn with the interval ΨN, and by the center Υ, let circle ΖΚ be drawn with the interval ΩΝ. Therefore, AB, EN, XN, ΩN, ΨN are the diameters of the circles ΠΘ, D ΕΜ, ΠΣ, ΛΖ, ΚΖΤ, each one corresponding to each, according to the arrangement of the elements. For as the center of Π is N and the extremities of its diameter are AB, so also the center of ΔΗ is A and the extremities of its diameter are EN; and the center of ΣΛ is B, and the extremities of its diameter are XN; likewise also the center of ΖΤ is […], and the extremities of its diameter are A.
Indeed, if their diameters are arranged as sides of triangles, they will produce larger and smaller triangles. But the diameters of circles which are drawn through the true center—the center properly so called—always produce equal circles, and indeed any other equal figure. It is therefore necessary to demonstrate that these circles are equal, and to demonstrate the triangle comprised of their diameters, and then that the same situation does not hold for the triangle. Let circle QH be described with center N and interval AB; let circle CG be described with center A and interval EN; let circle SL be described with center B and interval YN; let circle FT be described with center I and interval IN; let circle OK be described with center U and interval FFU. The diameters therefore B of the circles AF, SQ, H, MG, SL, OK, FT, namely A, B, E, N, Y, N, F, F, N, Z, N, are the diameters of their respective circles, and the termini of the diameter, namely YN; so they are. And they are arranged according to the order of the elements. As therefore the center N of circle QH is related, so are the termini of its same diameter, namely interval AB; so also is A, the center of circle MG, and the termini of its diameter, EN; so also is B, the center of circle C, the center I of circle FT, and the termini of its diameter, namely interval ZN; so also is N, the center of circle OK, and the termini of its diameter, namely interval FFN. For the termini of circle QH are the centers of the circles MG, SL, FT, OK. Since, therefore, the termini of the dia-
THEODORI II IMP. DE COMMUNIONE NATURALI
A ... of the diameter, [the points] Ψ Ν and of the Ζ Κ [circle] the center is Υ. A ... Α Β center is Ν, but also the Γ Α Υ Α are equal, and the extremities of its diameter are Ω Ν. For the Π Θ [are equal] to the Ν Α Ε Α; for the common center is the extremities are the centers of the Μ Η Σ Λ Ζ Τ Ε Κ circles. The Γ Υ diameter of the Μ Η circle is equal to the Γ Υ diameter. For since the halves are equal, the wholes also are equal. B ... Ἐπεὶ γοῦν the Γ Υ is equal to the Ε Ν, and the Α Β to the Ν Χ, and the Ρ Ι to the Β Φ, and the Ψ Ν to the Ι Δ, and the Ω Ν to the Υ Ο, and the Φ Α to the Υ Γ, and each is equal to each; for things equal to the same thing are also equal to each other, and the Π Θ Σ Λ Ζ Τ Ε Κ Μ Η circles are equal. For those [circles] whose diameters are equal, these also are equal. Therefore all the circles are equal, and the triangle constituted from their diameters is equal. C ... The A B diameter of the Π Θ circle, let there be taken [as] a side the [Α Φ] diameter of the Ζ Κ circle, and this [as] the Φ Β diameter of the Ζ Γ circle, and let the Δ Β Φ triangle be constructed. D Since, therefore, the diameters are equal, as has been demonstrated, necessarily the triangle constituted from these is equilateral and equiangular; therefore the Α Β Φ triangle is equal, since it is equilateral and equiangular. Therefore the diameters of the circle drawn from the center and mean [point] produce equal figures, since every diameter of it is equal; for this reason also every part of it toward the center is equal to its other parts, as was demonstrated. But this does not hold for the triangle; for its sides do not produce a circle, or a triangle equal to the triangle or circle which is constituted from its diameter; for the diameter of the circle is one third of its...
[The Latin text follows the same line of argument throughout, concluding:] ...for the diameter of the circle and the third part of the circumscribed line, if anyone should take and apply it so as to cut the circumference of the circle, will produce three lines equal to the diameter; which lines if anyone should place as sides,
A he will produce an equiangular and equilateral triangle; and if he should cycle three diameters, and set the diameter as the third of the perimeter, the same circle will again be formed.
5. But it is not so with a triangle; for the third part of its perimeter or the perpendicular is not equal to its diameter, but greater, so that its sides, as well as the diameter and the perpendicular, will form circles and triangles both greater and lesser. And this is a matter of inequality, and concerning other triangles, there is no need for a proof; for the sight of the isosceles, the acute-angled, and the obtuse-angled is clear, but the proof is useful to be shown in the case of the equilateral. This is the side of the triangle, and the diameter drawn through the center and the middle B and the perpendicular; they do not form equal circles, but unequal, and not even equal triangles. It is necessary to draw the figure of the triangle and the circle, and to show that the circles generated from the side of the triangle, and the diameter, and the perpendicular, are unequal to the ABG triangle. Let the circle MΦ be drawn with center K and diameter BE; let KL have center N and the perpendicular HG have center P. Therefore, C let the side AB be the diameter of the MΦ circle of the ABG triangle, and let the diameter of the XG circle be BE, let it be the side of the EBZ triangle, but also let the perpendicular HG of the ABG triangle be the diameter of the ΠΣ circle, let it be the side of the GHΘ triangle; and let the diameter of the MΦ circle, the side of the ABG triangle, be the side of the ABΩ triangle. Since, therefore, the diameter D is the third part of the entire circumference of the circle, and the AB diameter of the M circle exists, and it is a side of the ABG triangle, it will of necessity be a third part of this too; since in other things, the diameter of the circle M U, which is the same as the side of the triangle ABC, is the side of the triangle ABO. Since, therefore, the diameter is the third part of the whole circumscribing line of the circle, and AB is the diameter of the circle M U, and the side of the triangle ABC; it is also necessarily the third part of the circumscribing line. Since this same thing holds true in other equal sides, because ABC forms the triangle ABC, the AB diameter necessarily affects the side, constituting a larger circle than are those circles which are around the perpendicular line of the triangle, or
which the perpendicular line of the triangle constitutes. Since the perpendicular line GC is not equal to the side AB, but is itself the diameter of the circle QS, it is necessary that the circle whose diameter this is, is unequal and smaller than the circle MU, whose diameter is AB. Therefore, the triangle GHC—whose perpendicular line is the diameter of the triangle ABC and of the circle QS—having become a side, constitutes a triangle that is unequal and smaller than the triangle ABC. For the sides subtending one another make themselves larger than the diameter and the perpendicular. Furthermore, since the side of the triangle ABC does A not extend so far as to be equal to its own side BC wherever it may pass, unless perhaps at the point C, which is the limit of the side BC, it will come to be something unequal and smaller than the side BC. Also, the same line is the diameter of the circle XL, and the circle XL is unequal and smaller than the circle MU, whose diameter is AB. For the side BC is equal to this, and therefore the triangle EBF, which has become the side of the triangle ABC and of the circle XL, constitutes a triangle that is unequal and smaller than the triangle ABC. Again, the diameter of the circle MU, since it is also a side of the triangle ABC, having taken the sides BO and AO equal to this, of necessity makes a triangle equal [in area] to the triangle ABO. And since the side AB is greater than the diameter BC, and it in turn is greater than the perpendicular GC, [and keeping in mind] that the side AC supports the circle MU, BE supports XL, and GC supports [the circle] S, necessarily the circle MU is greater than the circle XL, and the circle KD is greater than the circle PS, just as they have the diameters which they have taken to themselves. And thus the triangles ABC, EBF, and GHT are such that, as MU is to XL, so is the triangle ABC to the triangle EBF; and as XL is to S, so is the triangle EBF to the triangle GHT. Therefore, as the circle MU is greater than the circles XL and PS, so also is the triangle ABC greater than the triangles EBF and GHT; but the triangle ABO alone is equal B to the triangle ABC. Therefore, the sides of the triangle, the diameter, and the perpendicular line do not produce all circles or all triangles equal, as they are drawn and terminated through the center and the middle, which it was required to demonstrate.
6. Furthermore, we consider it necessary to demonstrate that every triangle described from the diameter of a circle contains half the area of that triangle which has for its side the diameter of the circle. This is indeed a noble theorem C for demonstrating that the circle is double the equilateral triangle described from its own diameter. It is necessary to describe the circle and to take its diameter and set it as the side of a triangle, and to construct it, and to demonstrate that the circle is double [the area] of that which has the diameter for a side. With center I let the circle P-Theta be described at the intervals of the lines AB, T, H, X D; let them be joined together.
A
Let the lines AT, BH be produced as far as D, and the triangle ABD shall be constructed, equilateral and equiangular. For since line I is the midpoint of AB, thus also are T, H the midpoints of AD, BD; for line AI is equal to IT, since T-Omega is equal to AB, and since I is the midpoint of both AB and T-Omega, their halves AI, TI are equal, and AT is equal to IT, since the line Delta-Delta [sic] is equal to AB, and Delta-Delta is equal to DB and BA: and by the same reasoning, BI is equal to IH, since XH is equal to BA; and since I is the midpoint of BA, HX, their halves BI, HI are equal, and BH is equal to IH, since DB is equal to BA, and BD is equal to BA and AD. The triangles ATI, BHI are therefore equal, and equilateral, and equiangular; let these be joined by the line TH, and the triangle THI shall be constructed equal to them; for three straight lines joined together necessarily make an equilateral triangle; for the lines subtending the triangles ATI, BHI are necessarily equal to the side TH of the triangle THI, since this is joined to TI, HI at the midpoints of the sides AD, BD of the triangle ABD, and since the triangle THI is equal to the triangles ATI, BHI, the triangle THD is also equal to them. B For since the base TH is at the midpoints of the sides AD, BD of the triangle ABD, it is equal to the sides TI, BI of the triangle THI; for of those things whose halves are equal, the wholes are equal: since therefore the four triangles in the triangle ABD—namely ATI, BHI, THI, THD—are equal, the four triangles in the triangle ABC—namely AXI, BOI, OXI, OXC—are also equal both to them and to each other, since the diameter AB of the circle P-Theta is the common side of each of the equilateral, equiangular triangles ABD, ABC; and those things which are equal, their fourth parts are also equal; I say therefore that there are eight triangles in the two equal triangles ABD, ABC, of which those from ATI, THI, HBI, BOI, OXI, XAI contain the area of the circle P-Theta, while XOmega, G, H, Delta are left over; the segments AT, TH, HB, B-Omega, Omega-X, X-A [rest of page]
which exist from the circumcurrent line of the circle and the sides of the triangles, A should be equal to the two triangles TGD, XOC. For sense itself demonstrates this. For the segment TG of the circle P-Theta, having taken up the quantity ATBG, will complete the area of the TGD triangle. Likewise, the segment XO of the P-Theta circle, having taken up the segments AXBO, will complete the area of the XOC triangle; for this vision itself also shows. And together the triangles contained in the area of the P-Theta circle, fourfold to the two triangles ABD, ABC, exist; therefore the area of the P-Theta circle is double that of the ABD triangle, whose perimeters are equal, since there are four [triangles] in each greater triangle; the circle therefore possesses the eight. B Thus the circle will provide a diameter and will construct from this an equilateral and equiangular triangle, which is double, as was to be demonstrated. And these things are thus far, but let the discourse retrace itself to speak again of the equal and unequal things in the form of the shapes constructed, so that, having set aside the incidental theorem, it may proceed to the goal, which shall also come to pass.
7. Therefore, the supereminence of the circle is not only in relation to the sphere and the triangle and the square being everywhere equal, but in relation to every shape being constructed. Yet let no one thoughtlessly cut the circle, but C let the section be through the middle and the center in a straight line, so that in this way every boundary of a straight line may be described according to reason. But of the sectors there is no discourse at present, since this is not our goal, but rather [to show] how the form in each case specified the individual shapes, separating it from other shapes. The first and most ordered shape is the circle, from which the sphere also consists; then the square, then the equilateral triangle; and neither cylinder, nor cone, nor frame, nor pyramid are of this kind, for they are more unequal than the square and the triangle. Moreover, each shape has in every case a difference in equality and inequality. Whatever things therefore have a more equal position, those were also shaped more excellently by the form. Everyone would agree with the circle and the sphere, that nothing else is more equal; likewise, of all the others, my discourse distinguishes the square and the equilateral triangle. We do not say this very thing without certain reasons, but because it is also necessary. But if, beyond our goal, any man should find some other shape more equal, we will owe him much gratitude, and we also ask for pardon that we call that same thing unequal which is equal to the "unbending" [shape], but we pay honor to the equal. If it be not as our discourse has said, but as his has, may honor be to him who said it, but let our own contribution also be joined to his, in that the equal more excellently [constitutes] the form of the
A unequal. For no one will say that the unequal more excellently constitutes the form, unless one is being deceived.
8. We say, therefore, that just as in matter the form is, so in nature is education; and just as a figure more equal is more excellently formed by the form than that which is not equal by an equal [measure] to itself, so too is nature, when regulated by education and as it were informed, better than that which possesses no education. There is, however, a wide range in that which possesses it: the difference is that some natures possess complete education, some half, some [a portion] of the whole, while others [differ] by degrees—as, for instance, up to the midpoint, and from there up to the final stage of education in accordance with the same principle; but that which possesses none at all is utterly the most base. We have therefore spoken of three primary communities, for as we said [they must] share with the ruler, and take care of others insofar as one sees that they contribute to the common good, for both the establishment and the prosperity [of the state]. Those who follow the first we define as being made like unto the first; for if he communicates both through natural and learned discourses, and they, taking his discourses as certain forms, bring them into [the lives] of one another, this is nothing else than that they commune with the common good according to nature and education. How great, moreover, is the benefit to the world when reason directs and nature acts, and that which is not of reason and nature departs far away, the earth being full of good things, and the sea [full] as well. Since, however, this cannot be found—for the majority are worse—we have written down the definitions and spoken the truth. Let him who wishes inquire, and let others proceed as they may desire. I know well that anyone who possesses understanding would never depart from the methods spoken of, inasmuch as philosophy and wisdom mark out the paths. As for me, even if the common man is displeased by the good, I shall not falter, but shall speak it unflinchingly and again.
B And that [which is] of nature is a production, and is indeed such; but that which is of an accident comes to be only through mixture. Now mixture is receptive of the good, and the not-good, and the evil, just as the accident is—as, for instance, that a soldier has communion with someone; this is mixture. If, therefore, he joins himself to the good through art and nature, the mixture is by this time receptive of the good; but if he is not good by art and by nature, as this is accustomed to happen, but is merely something, the mixture is receptive of the not-good. But if he is most wicked by nature and art, the mixture is receptive of the evil; the mixture, therefore, is receptive of the good, and the not-good, and the evil. What, then, is the mixture in nature, and what is nature in the mixture, which are equalized into it? For the communion of the good with the good is not mixture, but [is] according to nature. In this mixture, therefore, and in the [nature] that is positioned in it—one can scarcely say how much assistance would be afforded to human society if reason were to prescribe and nature to act, and if we were never to turn aside from reason and nature. For then the earth would be full of good things and the sea would be full; but because this cannot be found (for we have described both the more imperfect and the more numerous mixtures, so that we have said what is true), let him who wishes embrace our view; others, however, may insist upon the path that more pleases them, although I know that anyone endowed with mind will never depart from the methods dictated above, because they introduce [one] into the true path of philosophy and wisdom. I, however, even if many men are offended, will never doubt to say what is true, and I shall state it again.
9. That which is of nature is a pre-eminent work, but that which follows from an accident arises from a mixture. Now, a mixture can receive both good and evil, and an accident can do so as well. For if a soldier enters into communion with someone, this very thing is a mixture; if, therefore, he joins himself to the good, the mixture receives the good on account of art and nature; provided, however, that he is not a participant in the good through art, but can be by nature—that is, if he is absolutely what he is—such a mixture can receive the good. But if someone is most wicked by nature and by art, his mixture receives evil. Therefore, a mixture that can receive the good and the not-good, can also receive the evil. In what way, then, is a mixture in nature, and in what way is nature in the mixture? Truly when both at the same time are equalized in the same thing; for the good with the good [communing]
this is a tempering, but not nature. I do not mean to say that it is even an honor to nature, but that even the worst things belong to nature, though it be failing or lacking, where also that which is accidental moves forward. For nature and the philosopher attain their proper goals and ends for the most part; but it happens by accident that what is useful is present, although not necessarily, just as if a stone were cut and carried along at random, then stopped due to an unevenness of ground or because the force moving it had ceased, and it had become a suitable seat; this, then, is not of nature or necessary, but of an accident, which is nevertheless useful. Wherefore we define the works of nature naturally, namely, those that have proceeded from nature as good. But the works of tempering and of accident are partly good and partly not. We determine also that all things are of nature, whether they be more excellent or more base. We have said, however, that those things which exist beyond order are indeed of nature, but of a nature that is deficient or excessive, while good things are of a nature that is powerful and sincere. Since, therefore, nature perceived this plan and saw that that most excellent work B of hers, which she has from God, is flexible and versatile—I mean that wise animal, namely man—and perceived that she does not always attain her own end, truly taking thought for her own offspring, she devised the most beautiful and best way, which is science. Moreover, since there are also temperings in nature, for the same reason she distributed science into arts, and joined the arts with science, just as she had joined the temperings themselves, so that what someone might not possess, even if they are held in a right composition, or rather what might not have been rightly composed, could be compensated for by the institutions of learning for living perfectly and blessedly. C But alas! Most people abominate this gift, and those who excel others in talent do indeed embrace this good as is fitting, but they share the fruit of such a good with slothful men.
10. We say, therefore, and we gather from all these things we have said, that it is noble and useful if every one of men is a participant in philosophy; for he who is learned and endowed with knowledge shares this good with others; but he who is without knowledge separates himself from the wise; for from thence everyone can be greatly helped. And the wise man exhorts everyone in this manner: Wear out the thresholds of the wise, not of the rich—understand by thresholds, the lips of the wise—so that you may abound in the institutions of virtue, which make the soul better; but do not wear out the thresholds of the rich, lest by chance you hear a rich man speaking of material things, and in this way be dragged down under the earth, and while you make D the matter better and more increased, you bring disgrace upon the particle capable of intelligence. It is necessary, therefore, to philosophize and to associate with philosophers, so that we may hold fast that "Know thyself," and be endowed with virtue, so that we may also be leaders of all, and all things may follow us from behind. For by wisdom God established and ordered this whole universe; and by wisdom He moves,
and will change this whole world for the better, exactly as that same wisdom wills. A Since, therefore, we were observing these things and many more, and thus understood that all things were fashioned by the almighty Godhead through wisdom, and that there is no other reason for goodness to exist in things than through wisdom and knowledge, we desired to rest in both, and because we wished to rest in both, we investigated them. Having investigated both, we found them, and to both once found (O admirable sweetness!) we gave and attached ourselves completely, and we are never separated from either, unless perhaps we should be separated from piety. Philosophy is therefore the most beautiful communion of all, and the alumni of learning, and whoever embraces philosophy to the best of their ability, communicate with one another most beautifully of all. But if some are not found to be like this, they are wild and inhuman. These things, then, have been written by us as they were conceived in our mind, B O, what great sweetness! We were joined to them in their totality, and we could never be set free from them, unless we should also be set free from piety. Philosophy is, then, the most beautiful communion, and those who are nourished by learning are its fellows, as are all those who, to the extent of their ability, embrace it; but those who are not such as these are beastly and unsociable. These things, then, as we have thought them, have been written; we pray, however, that we might learn the better parts of these things, and avoid the worse, and when we have obtained our release from the flesh, we may learn if those things of philosophy are better than those of folly. But for now, we have written as we have known, C if by chance these things are pleasing to the judgment of the wise, for which reason we also ask for indulgence.