Friday, February 17, 2023

Gordon Clark: Plotinus on the Eternity of the World (The Philosophical Review)

1949. Plotinus on the Eternity of the World. Philosophical Review. Vol. VII No. 2 Mar.

Plotinus on the Eternity of the World1

Studies in Plotinus largely neglect consideration of his views of the physical world and spend their time contemplating the architecture of the intelligible universe. There is good reason for doing so. And yet the philosophic completeness of his argumentation, if not the value of his lofty theology, depends on the consistency and definiteness of his theories of visible phenomena. This is most clearly seen when he argues the eternity of the world, for if his theme rises to celestial heights on the one hand, on the other it is founded on a view of corporeal elements in motion.

The Problem

The eternity of the world was not a problem that Plotinus could well overlook. His views on the ineffable One, the Divine Mind, and the World Soul logically required one type of thesis and excluded others. Then too it is a question of intrinsic importance and was naturally studied in all the schools. Their various answers Plotinus could not ignore. Now, since the problem in antiquity has certain formulations not prominent in modern discussions, it is well to list the most important views Plotinus had to consider. 

What view Plato held was a matter of dispute. Some, like Plutarch, said that Plato assigned the world a beginning in time; others explained the textual basis for this view as a pedagogical device; and a part of Plotinus' motive in discussing the problem was the desire to do justice to Plato. There is a further complication that might as well be introduced now as later, particularly because there are vague or difficult passages in Plotinus where, if he has not forgotten it, his readers are likely to. Plato, in Timaeus (39d) and more obscurely elsewhere, refers to a great world cycle. When all the heavenly bodies after many revolutions have returned to their initial positions, universal history begins over again. It is far from clear that Plato taught what was later to become a prominent part of Stoicism, that every human event was to be deterministically repeated as an exact duplicate of the former cycle; but there is no doubt that he held to some not too well-defined cyclical scheme. Any such scheme allows the question of the eternity of the world to bear two senses easily overlooked by a modern mind, requiring specific mention even in antiquity. One of these two senses would be prominent in a discussion between a pagan and a Christian. Emile Brehier, the editor of the superlative text and translation in the Bude series, opens his Notice to Ennead II, i with this interesting paragraph.
Le dogme de l'incorruptibilite du monde est la these qui, dans antiquite finissante, a separe, de la maniere la plus tranchee, le derniers tenants de l' "hellenism" de la pensee chretienne envahissante. Ce dogme, qui est au coeur du neoplatonisme, impliquait en effet, sur la destinee humaine et sur la mode de l'action divine des vues inacceptables pour le christianisme. Plotin a rencontre, dans la secte gnostique qu'il connut a Rome, ces adversaires chretiens, et ii les vise expressement dan ce traite (cf. iv, fin).
But even Brehier recognizes that this is not Plotinus' principal concern. While it is true that a system in which God is regarded as Creator differs radically from a system in which some divine principle contributes form to matter, and while the Christian attribution of real significance to unique historical events breathes a different spirit from the Greek preoccupation with sameness, repetition, and uniformity, yet the Christians themselves did not in the third century appreciate these systematic considerations. One need only recall how Origen, an older contemporary of Plotinus, tried to solve some of his difficulties by favoring an endless cycle of worlds in approved Hellenistic fashion. Philo Judaeus also, attracted by the brilliance of the Greek culture, had failed to see the incompatibility of creation as found in the Old Testament with the eternity of some material principle. And before Philo the Jews were just another barbarian people too obnoxious for civilized Greeks to bother with. Even Lucretius, whose wording so definitely applies, possibly never gave a thought to the Hebrew doctrine of creation by divine fiat when he set down his fundamental principle: "Nothing ever comes from nothing by divine power."2 Plotinus had indeed met Gnosticism, and while that queer system was far from being Christianity, it had nonetheless accepted from Christianity the idea that historical events are significant and that the world drama has a conclusion. For this and for other reasons. Plotinus wrote a long tractate in opposition. And also in arguing for the eternity of the world, he does not altogether forget these possibilities. But Ennead II, i has little to do with Christianity, orthodox or heretical. Its arguments move within the limits of Greek thought.

These limits impose another sense on the question of the eternity of the world, and this sense, too, is double. Within the general pagan view, Christian theories excluded, Democritus could hold to the eternity of atoms, but not to the eternity of the present order of things. Similarly the Epicureans, though their atoms were indestructible, held that this Earth is mortal. If the world were immortal, they ask, why does not history antedate the Trojan war? Erosion, too, would have leveled all mountains, if within this world the process had no beginning. This distinction clarifies certain arguments, found both in the Epicureans and in Plotinus, which at first sight appear invalid. It is occasionally said that if every part of the world is indestructible, the world as a whole is indestructible. One is tempted to criticize this inference on the ground that what is true of the parts is not necessarily true of the whole. But this criticism would certainly miss the point, for if the Sun, the Moon, and the stars pass away, then this whole world passes away even thought other suns and moons, i.e. other worlds, are born. The Stoics too deny the eternity of this world. For them this present world is but one showing, as it were, of a reel of motion pictures; the reel may be shown many times - it may be an endless reel; but this present showing has an end. Now, since there are certain early paragraphs where it is not clear which view Plotinus wishes to attack or defend, the several possibilities must be constantly kept in mind to avoid misrepresentation.

Conclusion and Ultimate Explanation

Ennead II, i is not the most orderly of Plotinus' tractates. Because no hint is given as to the direction of the argument, the opening chapter seems to suggest solutions that Plotinus later rejects or accepts only with definite modifications. It will be helpful therefore to state at the beginning what Plotinus' conclusion will be. Then it can be seen that much of the material is tentative; that the questions are not rhetorical, implying a specific answer, but honest and serious, leaving the issue open; and one can also more easily determine whether or not the several segments of the argument actually support the final position.

Plotinus was faced with these options: First this present constitution of the universe may be one of an infinite number of possible arrangements realized successively in infinite time; or, second, this present constitution may in all respects be everlasting; or, third, this world may be the only possible arrangement and yet be periodically dissolved and reconstituted; or, finally, the superior portion of the world may be individually and numerically eternal while the lower portion enjoys and eternal existence in species only. This last view is that of Plotinus.3

If the text must be interpreted to lead to this conclusion, the problem may be now stated and the questions put. In phrasing the problem, Plotinus excludes the atomistic view almost as completely as the Christian view. He begins with the thesis, not merely that some sort of body is eternal, but that this cosmos is eternal. And the question is, how may this eternity be explained? One popular explanation must immediately be discounted. Perhaps it is true that the reason of the world's continuance lies in the will of god, but this gives us no understanding of the matter (II, i, 1, 4). One must show that the construction of the world is such as to endure. A reference to god is not sufficient. The Stoics refer the World to god, but they deny its eternity. Without a special divine revelation how can one know what the will of God is, unless he bases his conclusions on the actual construction of the world? This consideration justifies the contention that, without a firm basis in physical theory, Plotinus' higher speculation is incomplete. That a bare appeal to the divine will does not solve the problem is further emphasized as Plotinus divides the question. The division is between a strict numerical eternity and the immortality of the species. As we are acquainted with the transformation of elements and the death of animals - phenomena which permit only specific immortality - we must first consider the possibility that the universe as a whole enjoys only an eternity of species. If the universe is so constructed that all its parts change, there is the further, but not rhetorical question, why should heavenly bodies enjoy numerical and individual eternity, when the lower bodies cannot? The answers must be found in the actual constitution of things. Throughout the first chapter this problem is sharply put; a few superficial answers are set aside; and the immediate conclusion is that the individual or numerical eternity of the heavens as a whole requires the individual immortality of its parts singly.

But if the parts of the heavens - the Sun, the Moon, the planets and stars - are individually everlasting, and if these are bodies, one must show how a body can preserve its individuality forever. It is the accepted opinion that bodies are subject to constant flux. Plato himself held this. And Aristotle avoided this difficulty only by assuming the existence of a fifth type of body. But is Aristotle's assumption reasonable? Is there not the possibility that the heavenly bodies are both immortal and also composed of the familiar four elements? Now, a living being is composed of soul and body, and it must be remembered that the parts of the heavens are living beings. Therefore instead of assuming a fifth body, and denying a soul to heaven as Aristotle virtually does, it may prove wiser to seek the explanation of individual immortality in soul rather than in body. As a matter of fact, teaches, Plotinus,
the soul is the chief cause, for it stands with its marvelous powers immediately below the best things; how then can any of those things once set in soul escape from it into non-existence? Not to believe that the soul, with its source in god, is the most powerful of bonds, is to remain in ignorance of the cause that comprehends all things, for it is absurd that the soul, which for so long a time has been able to preserve the heavens, should not forever continue to do so.4
This fervent affirmation, however, seems no enlightening than the appeal to the will of god, previously set aside, and the crux of the argument must be sought, as Plotinus had previously admitted (II, i, 2, 22-28), in the attempt to show that the nature of body does not impose an impossible task on soul.

The Nature of the Elements

The line of reasoning by which Plotinus aims to show that the physical constitution of the heavens is compatible with their numerical eternity is not patterned after the straightforward method of geometrical demonstration. A reader usually does not foresee which direction Plotinus intends to take and is easily lost in a digression or in the interweaving of the strands of the main argument. When all this is sorted out, Plotinus seems to have based his position on three chief points: The heavens contain no earth, but fire only; fire can be solid without the admixture of earth; and, since there is no loss, no replenishment is needed.

That earth exists in the heavenly bodies is a possibility requiring investigation for two reasons. First, a passage in Plato seems to teach this theory - Plotinus does not mention the lengthy discussion in Plutarch; and second, since it is plausible that living beings above are similar in composition to living beings below, the existence of all four elements in the bodies of the latter would indicate the same for the former.

Plato had held that the celestial bodies were composed of fire and earth - fire for visibility and earth for solidity (II, i, 6, 2-4). Plotinus, admitting that this is a plausible account, immediately begins to gloss over the mention of earth. Obviously there could be neither water nor air in the composition, for water in such a body of fire would evaporate and air would itself change to fire. Nor are air and water necessary as two mean terms to produce a mixture of fire and earth considered as extremes: the present problem is one of physics, not mathematics. If the earth itself requires water in order to cohere, as some have held, the existence of earth in the heavenly bodies would indicate the presence of water also. But earth does not require water. If all earth, even the smallest particle, required water for cohesion, it would follow that the element, pure earth, does not exist; and in that case there would be no particles for the water to glue together. The theory thus understood is self-contradictory. Conversely, if water can bind particles of earth, then earth exists independently of water; and there remains no reason for assuming the existence of water in the heavenly bodies.

Now, while it is important to disguise any disagreement with the divine Plato, Plotinus must make the point that earth cannot, any more than air and water, be a constituent of the heavenly bodies. It is sometimes asserted that since the bodies of terrestrial animals are composed of all four elements, the same four must be found in the bodies of the celestial living beings. The great difference between the heavens and the Earth, however, leaves this analogy without foundation. Furthermore, there are three positive reasons for denying the presence of earth in the sky. Since the point which these reason are supposed to substantiate is such an important link in the development of the thesis, one is surprised to find that Plotinus has compressed the entire argument into the extreme brevity of four lines (II, i, 6, 56-60). "To raise earth into the heavens is unnatural and contrary to nature's laws; that the swiftest motions should carry around earthy bodies is not plausible; and earth would obscure the splendor and brilliance of the fire there."

These few lines must be said to compare unfavorably with Plutarch's reasonings in support of the opposite conclusion. Plutarch reports detailed empirical evidence: If the Moon were a fire and not a reflecting earthly body, then how could one account for its phases, or for the fact that the Moon does not shine more brightly during an eclipse? Why Plotinus chose to ignore these particularities is somewhat of a mystery. An appeal to Aristotelian physics is legitimate; but a bare appeal is inadequate.

However, Plotinus is more interested in preserving the good name of Plato than he is in refuting Plutarch. This he attempts to do, first, by interpreting Plato's phrase, "God kindled a light in the second circle from the Earth," to mean that the Sun is all light and contains no earth; and, second, by suggesting that Plato, when he spoke of earth in heavenly bodies really meant a principle of solidity and not the ordinary earth we trample under foot (II, i, 7, 20ff.)

The problem of solidity is one that Plotinus must face, if he is to compose the celestial bodies of fire alone. If one should adopt the common opinion that fire is not in itself a continuous, three-dimensional body, one would expect earth to be needed for solidity. However, fire is solid, not by reason of three dimensions, but by reason of its obvious upward force as a natural body (II, i, 6, 49). Earth's peculiar property is hardness, not solidity. Note that gold, which in water is dense, not because of the admixture of earth, but because of the presence of density and coagulations.5

Earth is not mixed with fire to constitute the stars; but because both earth and fire are parts of the same cosmos, there is a principle of universal community6 by which fire receives something of earth just as earth receives something of fire, and every element receives something of every other. This is not a combination of elements in any sense, but it is the transfer of a property of one element to another. Thus fire may come to enjoy the solidity and density of earth (II, i, 7, 19).7

One must bear in mind that this celestial fire is not the flame we know on Earth. Flame, as we know it here, rises a distance and is quenched by the great amount of air that it meets; or it it carries earth with it as it rises, it is dragged down again. In any case flame cannot proceed beyond the Moon. Here is makes the air more subtle; and if any flame remains, it slowly goes out and becomes more soft and mild. It no longer has the brilliance it had while burning but shines by reflection from the celestial light (II, i, 7, 35ff.). Not only are the stars composed of the celestial light, but the remainder of the sky as well. It is invisible, however, because of its subtleness and transparency, and because of the distance also.

Before the third segment of Plotinus' argument is discussed, it may be proper to note the Aristotelianism inherent in this second segment. Plotinus always professes to follow Plato and carefully obscures any disagreement with his views. In this tractate he rejects Aristotle's assumption of a fifth body, and one might think that the eternity of the world would depend on Platonic physics. It depends, to be sure, on the Platonic and non-Aristotelian theory of a World-Soul, but the physics is far from Platonic. Not only has Plotinus discarded the triangular constitution of atoms, but his rejection of Aristotle's fifth body is nullified by the distinction between the fire of this region and the celestial fire. So different are these two that the latter might as well be listed as a fifth element. As a consequence of this, the physical composition of celestial living beings differs from that of the terrestrial, not only in the fact that only one element, and not four, is required, but also in the disparate quality of that element. All this emphasizes the distinction that Plotinus makes between the sublunar and the supralunar worlds.8

The particular combination Plotinus makes of Platonic soul theories with Aristotelian physics raises questions as to the adequacy of some and the necessity of other parts of the argument. For example, if bodies are not essentially and naturally in flux, there is no need to exclude earth, air, and water from the heavenly bodies. Could not the marvelous power of the soul preserve one element as easily as another? But if the elements are naturally and necessarily subject to change, then Plotinus might as well admit that his celestial fire is in reality a fifth element. Otherwise the numerical eternity of the heavens depends on the soul alone, and the physical problem with which Plotinus began his tractate receives no solution.

Perhaps the most disturbing feature of this theory is the incongruity it introduces into basic Neoplatonic principles. Plotinus is sometimes said to have taught a form emanationism. He often compares the universe with a sphere of light proceeding from a center of illumination. If this illustration be pressed, it is true that things below would differ from things above - one would expect the more distant parts of the world to have a lesser intensity of light or lesser density of reality than those parts closer to the illuminating source; but one would also expect the density to decrease continuously, so that an abrupt break between the supralunar and the sublunar regions would be impossible. Plotinus can, and, I should say, does escape this inconsistency only by falling into a greater. The application to a theory of emanation of the spatial details of the propagation of light does not result in the most profound understanding of Neoplatonism. It is between to consider the Soul, the Divine Mind, and the One as the all-pervasive and deepest aspects of reality. The One is the basic and most profound unity, the most universal and abstract quality of all; the Divine Mind or world of ideas is the order or rationality that permeates all things; and the Soul is the life or energy whose particular manifestations are seen everywhere. The distinctions among the hypostases are logical, not geographical or astronomical. But in the present tractate the argument depends on a strict spatial distribution: The Soul in order to preserve the heavenly bodies is a certain number of miles above the surface of the Earth - it cannot preserve terrestrial beings because it is not spatially present; and presumably the Divine Mind and the One are still farther removed by some definite number of miles. In many other places Plotinus' spatial illustrations may be interpreted as metaphorical and pedagogical. But here the argument demands a literal distance. This does not accord with the genius of Neoplatonism.

The final segment of the argument remains to be examined. Granted that the heavens contain no earth, but fire only, and granted that fire may be solid, still it does not follow that the heavenly bodies are eternal. Plotinus must continue to argue that there is no diminution, waste, or loss that would require replenishment or restoration.

Dissolution of the heavenly beings, conceived as a falling away of their substance to lower regions, could occur through two possible causes only. First, there might be an internal principle of change; and, second, an external cause might force the dissolution. These two possibilities Plotinus sets aside. It is not the nature of celestial substance to change, and there exists in the heavens no foreign force to push celestial particles downward. To support the second assertion - for the first seems to be self-evident - Plotinus notes that air and fire at the lunar boundary are the only foreign bodies that could come in contact with the heavens. But what could mild air do? Fire also is powerless under the given conditions. It could not grasp heavenly being, for the whirl of the heavens is so fast that each part would pass by before the fire could act on it.9 Furthermore, fire acts and destroys by heating a body contrary to that body's nature; but fire cannot heat and therefore cannot destroy the heavenly bodies, for by nature they are already hot. Because of these considerations, and because the heavenly bodies by nature and not by compulsion move in circular motion, one must conclude against the dissolution and replenishment of the heavens.

This then completes the physical argument for the numerical eternity of the celestial beings, with the exception of a good but extremely brief hint just before the end (II, i, 8, 23). In only two or three words Plotinus hints that the cause of flux is composition, and since there is no composition in heaven, the bodies there cannot change. On the whole, however, it is to be feared that the physical argument does not realize the anticipations of the tractate's opening lines. The theses which Plotinus argues are insufficient, and the theses that would be sufficient are asserted but not argued. Accordingly the theory of the numerical eternity of the heavenly bodies depends mostly and perhaps entirely on Plotinus' view of the soul. And it is with such a consideration that he ends the tractate.

As if to bolster up the physical argument, Plotinus reminds us (II, i, 8, 5) that a body with a soul is different from a body alone; and this is the condition of the heavenly bodies. We are also twice (II, i, 8, 21, and 25) reminded that the Soul above is not the same and the soul below. It is therefore the powerful Soul above, rather than any physical condition, that ensures permanence in the heavens. But once more this subjects the World Soul to geographical limitations.10

1. The Philosophic Review, March 1949.

2. De rerum natura, I, 150.

3. II, i, 2, 1; II, i, 6, 15-24; II, i, 8, 22-23; II, ii, 4, 6-8. 

4. II i 4. 14-20.

5. It is difficult to escape the impression that the distinction between solidity and hardness is verbal and that in these lines Plotinus is at his worst.

6. On universal sympathy see "Plotinus' Theory of Sensation," Philosophical Review, July 1942.

7. Could this passage have had any influence on the development on the Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation?

8. That the Moon is the boundary should be assumed in the absence of clear evidence to the contrary. It seems implied in II i 7, 39, even though χἀτῳ in the phrase χἀτῳ δε τὴς σελὴνὴς means below and not at. Mackenna puts the boundary at some distance above the Moon by translating II i, 5, 18 ὴ ον μἐχϱἰ σελὴνὴς ο ον ϱὰνος, as "whose region does not in fact extend so low as to the moon." This is a good translation of every word except ὴ. The context seems to require something like this: Otherwise the heaven would not extend to the Moon. A perfectly smooth argument could be obtained only by emendation.

9. II, i, 8, 10. The grammar at first seems to favor Mackenna's interpretation: "in its very rush it [earthly fire] would change before its attack could be felt." Brehier sees that Plotinus must mean the rush and whirl of the heavens, not of fire: but he agrees with Mackenna in supposing that the heavens modify the earthly fire that has risen to the Moon. The argument, however, demands a reference to the fire's action on the heavens.

10. The last sentence of the tractate causes difficulty: Mackenna takes it as an appropriate conclusion: "and as we have shown, [the lower soul] cannot at every point possess the unchangeable identity of the Intellectual Realm." Brehier, on the contrary, takes it as a warning not to forget other parts of the system: "Et pourtant, comme on l'a dit ailleurs; les choses celestes ne restent pas entierement identiques a ellect-memes, comme le sont les intelligibles." Plotinus wrote: το δε μὴ ῳσἀὐτῳς πἀντὴ, ῳσπ εϱ τἀ νοὴτἀ, εἰϱὴτἀἰ. The word εἰϱὴτἀἰ may seem to favor Mackenna's attempt to connect this sentence with the discussion in the tractate; but since it can possibly refer to some other tractate, πἀντὴ and νοὴτἀ rather clearly favor Brehier.

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