Contents:
Volume 1. Books I–IV.
Volume 2. Books V–VIII.
Volume 3. Books IX–XI.
Volume 4. Books XII–XIV.
Volume 5 Books XV–XVI.
Volume 6. Books XVII-XVIII.
This is six-volume edition and translation of Ficino's eighteen-book
Platonic Theology. The final volume includes Ficino’s brief
Introduction or argumentum which was probably written as a report
about the work in progress (see Note on the Text). As in the
previous volumes, Michael Allen is responsible for the English
translation and notes, and James Hankins for editing the Latin text,
though each has gone over the other's work. While some corrections
to the first five volumes have come to their attention and are
listed in the Corrigenda in the final volume, it is predictable
that other scholars will eventually enrich our understanding
of this monumental work's varied sources and debts, particularly,
one suspects, to Aristotle, Augustine, Proclus, Averroes, and the
Scholastics, as they look beyond the network of identifications
attempted here.
They gave us the courage to begin what we knew would be a long and
arduous climb up one of the loftiest peaks of Renaissance thought.
The result for us at least has been an alpine view of horizons as
far as Mt. Ventoux, of reasoning's escarpments and faith's plunging
ravines. Our hope now is that others will explore this whole
magnificent terrain.
As the structure of the Platonic Theology is only partly reflected
in its book and chapter divisions, so the translators provided an
outline of the work's overall plan in the 6th final volume,
following for the most part cues given in the text itself.
I.
Volume 1. Books I–IV.
Ficino's Platonic Theology: A Renaissance humanist and leader of the
Florentine Platonic Academy whose wide-ranging interests encompassed
philosophy, music, medicine, astrology, and magic, Marsilio Ficino
(1433-99) is best known for having initiated the Renaissance revival
of Plato. The Platonic Theology, in which Ficino reconciles
Platonism with Christianity, was written during the early 1470s when
he was completing his translation of Plato's works, during which
time he was also preparing for the priesthood, which he entered in
1473. In their introduction to the volume, Michael Allen and James
Hankins provide compelling commentary on the philosophical and
political contexts of the Platonic Theology, together with incisive
analyses of the text's structural and rhetorical features. The work,
they argue, represents Ficino's 'mature attempt to sketch out a
unitary theological tradition, and particularly a theological
metaphysics' that he firmly believed could be traced from Orpheus to
Hermes Trismegistus and Zoroaster, 'even as it had culminated in the
Christian revelation most luminously articulated for him by the
Areopagite, Augustine, and Aquinas.' Ficino thought of the Platonic
Theology as his most inspired and independent work. At the heart of
it lies not only his affirmation of the soul's immortality, but also
his redefinition and reconceptualization of 'the figura, of the
human entity.' A text of deeply 'personal if not autobiographical
apologetics,' the Platonic Theology is also the product of its
'Renaissance Italian, specifically Medicean, context' in that it
represents 'a bold, albeit problematic, attempt to appropriate' late
classical philosophy 'for the ingeniosi, the intellectuals, the
forward wits of the republic and its governing elites.' The work's
dense philosophical and political orchestrations may account for the
complexity of Ficino's style, which on one hand conceptualizes
sublimity, after Plotinus, 'in an unadorned and apparently artless
way' at the same time as it is 'rhetorically challenging, with its
frequent asyndeton (making the reader work it out), its unbalanced
periods (drawing the reader into the mazes of the argument) ... and
its intermittent flights of poetic imagery contributing to a sense
of allocutionary trance.'
Modelled after the Harvard Loeb Classical Library series, the I
Tatti translations are in dual-language format (with the Latin text
on the left page and the translation on the right), facilitating
comparison. Michael Allen's translation of the Ficino volume is
careful and meticulous, as is the editorial apparatus. In addition
to the critical introduction, the volume includes two sets of
explanatory notes (to the text and to the translation respectively),
a selected bibliography of secondary sources, and a valuable author
and subject index. The volume promises to become indispensable to
Renaissance scholarship in general.
Ficino's immortality proofs and answers to questions in the later
books of the Theology presuppose and are founded upon his general
systematic account in these first four books of God, creation and
the place of the soul within creation. These reverse the usual order
of the medieval summa, itself founded on Neoplatonic models. The
medieval summa generally deals in hierarchical order beginning with
God and moving down through creation in general, angelic and human
nature; it then follows the flow of the divine creative act back to
its source by treating the redemption of human nature, understood
as that nature's return via reason, love, and grace to the source of
its being. Ficino begins instead with what is known quoad nos, i.e.
with the material world known to the senses, and ascends through the
five grades of reality to God. He then descends again to the level
of soul and discusses its nature and species. His system thus
follows a psychological or heuristic rather than an ontological or
generative order.
Volume 1. Books I–IV.
A. Book I. Ascent to God through the four created substances: body
(inert extended matter), form divided in body or quality (an active
principle of change), rational soul (active, both divided in body
and undivided, mobile), and angel (active, undivided and immobile).
See i.i.z. The ascent is also a philosophical itinerary, from pure
corpuscularism (as in the Democriteans, Cyrenaics and Epicureans),
to a higher awareness of an active shaping power in bodily nature
(as in, for Ficino, the Stoics and Cynics), to recognition of the
existence of a more excellent form beyond body which is the seat of
the rational soul (as in Heraclitus, Varro, Manilius), to
realization of an unchangeable mind beyond changeable soul (as
in Anaxagoras and Hermotimus), and finally to the light of truth
itself, God (as in Plato and the Platonists).
B. Book II. God. i. The divine essence: God is unity, truth, and
goodness.
2. What God is not. Why there is not an infinity of equal gods on
the same metaphysical level; why there is not an infinity of gods
arranged hierarchically.
3. The divine attributes: God's power is infinite; He is
everlasting; omnipresent; the source of motion and the immediate
cause of all change; God acts by His being; He understands infinite
things; His understanding is infinite; He has will and acts through
will; His will reconciles freedom and necessity; God is loving and
provident.
C. Book III. Descent through the grades of being and comparison of
the grades among themselves. Ficino establishes the soul's status as
the third and middle essence, "the link that holds all nature
together," giving life to things below it, and knowing itself and
things both above and below it.
D. Book IV. The three species of soul: the world soul; the souls of
the twelve spheres, including planetary and elemental spheres; the
souls of living creatures within and distinct from those spheres.
The souls of the spheres cause circular motion in accordance with
the laws of fate.
II.
Volume 2. Books V–VIII.
This second volume of edition and English translation of Marsilio
Ficino's Platonic Theology contains books five to eight. Five
volumes are expected, so as to cover the whole Ficino's work.
Principles of edition and general introduction are to be found in
the first volume. This edition, made by James Hankins, with William
Bowen, depends on that of Raymond Marcel (Paris, 1964-1970). As the
authors explain in the introduction to the first volume, there are
only two independent witnesses to the text: the editio princeps,
published in Florence in 1482 (= A), which Ficino himself corrected,
and the manuscript dedication copy written for Lorenzo de Medici
(Florence, Laurenz., Plut. LXXXIII, 10) (= L). These two witnesses
have been entirely collated again by Hankins and Bowen. Marcel's
edition is mostly reliable, yet the authors suppressed most of
Marcel's conjectures, for they were not necessary to the
comprehension of the text. These conjectures are not to be found in
the apparatus of the new edition, and the authors are right doing
so, because most of Marcel's conjectures consisted in additions of
several "ergo" or "autem" into the Latin text, often even not
translated into French. For example, in Book V, 1, 3, in the
sentence "non secundum, quia spontaneus motus assiduus comes est
eius", Marcel adds "non" before "assiduus", yet he does not
translate it: "ni la seconde, parce que le mouvement spontane/ est
le compagnon assidu de..." In Book V, 14, 4, Marcel omits "non", as
Allen-Hankins's apparatus shows, in the sentence "ut calor non
suscipit frigus", yet he does translate it: "par exemple, la chaleur
ne rec,oit pas le froid."
Latin text and English translation lie on opposite pages, and all
the notes are relegated to the end of the volume. In both Latin and
English texts, each chapter is divided into paragraphs, which make
the text easier to read and refer to. The "notes to the text" are
readings or conjectures which have been rejected by the editors,
indicated by reference marks within the text. The "notes to the
translation" are other possible translations, needed explanations of
the text, sources of quotations or allusions. Those notes are always
short, precise and clear. Although a general index of sources will
come only with the last volume, there is an useful index of names,
after the bibliography.
Although fewer witnesses were used for this edition, the
Allen-Hankins apparatus is more complete (notably giving variants of
A before correction) and more precise than that of Marcel. Here are
a few examples.
Book V, 1, 2: ... numquam desinit vivere. Si enim quod movetur...
moveri desinit numquam.
Allen-Hankins, Book V, n. 3: "A omits Si enim -- numquam before
correction".
Marcel, p. 174, n. 1: "A: Ubi scribitur: desinit vivere, subiunge
haec Si enim... desinit numquam. Sequitur: Praeterea..." By these
unclear words, Marcel means that A (but he omits to say "before
correction") made a "saut du me^me au me^me", but we would have
understood this without help.
2) Book V, 4, 2 (last line): ...et, si humiditas, quomodo
siccitatem?
Allen-Hankins, Book V, n. 7: "A omits si before correction". Marcel,
p. 177, n. 2: "si add. A. " I must say that I don't understand what
Marcel means here.
3) Book V, 7, 3:
Allen-Hankins, p. 38-39: "atque illas in esse perducit" (translated:
"and brings them forth into existence"), and n. 19: Marcel corrects
silently to producit, perhaps correctly.
Marcel, p. 186: " atque illas in esse producit" (translated: "et les
ame\ne a\ l'existence"), but the correction is not silent, since he
writes n. 1: "perducit LHABC". From that we must understand that
"perducit" is the reading of A and L, of the second manuscript of
the
text, Haleianus 3482 (H), and of the two Venice editions (published
in 1491 and 1524) (B and C). So, it is not necessarily a correction
either, but, if the apparatus is correct, "producit" might be the
reading of four more recent editions, published in Paris and Bale,
between 1559 and 1650 (D, E, F and G). This is doubtful though, and
I would rather believe that "producit" is a conjecture of Marcel, as
Allen-Hankins think.
It was necessary to have a revised edition and English translation
of Ficino's Platonic Theology in a more accessible publication. This
work is important not only to those who are working on Ficino and
Italian Humanism, but also to anyone dealing with Platonic revival
in the middle ages and renaissance. The translation has been made by
probably the most competent specialist of Ficino nowadays, Michael
Allen, with the collaboration of John Warden. The translation is
absolutely necessary to give to those who don't know Latin an access
I to this very important text, and also it helps those who know some
Latin, for the text is sometimes difficult and elliptic. To sum up,
it is quite rare nowadays to see such a fine, accurate and ascetic
piece of philology.
***
Immortality proofs. See 1.1.3: After describing the nature of soul and its place in creation, Ficino says that he is going to seek to establish that the condition and nature of the soul is such as he has described, "firstly by general arguments (rationes communes), secondly by specific proofs (argumentationes propriae), thirdly by signs (signa), and lastly by resolving questions (solutiones quaestionum).
Volume 2. Books V–VIII
A. Book V. The rational soul's immortality is shown from rationes
communes—i.e., the general metaphysical principles and
characteristics of soul as third essence. These include: the fact
that it is capable of self-induced circular motion but is unchanging
in its substance; its natural attraction both to divine and material
things; its ability to rule matter while remaining independent of
it; its indivisibility; the relation of essence and existence in
soul; the nature of soul as pure form; the self-subsistence of soul;
its dependence on and resemblance to its divine cause; the fact
that the soul is not potential with respect to existence and is
directly dependent on God for its existence; the fact that it is the
principle of life, and a power inherently superior to body.
B. Books VI-XII. The rational soul's immortality shown from rationes
propriae, i.e. particular arguments. These rationes propriae consist
of more detailed demonstrations of some of the rationes communes in
II.A.
Book VI.i Introductory interlude. This takes the form of a dialogic
intervention by Giovanni Cavalcanti, the only one in the Theology,
revealing for the first time that the previous five books had been a
disputation held at the country home of Giovanni Cavalcanti in the
presence of Cavalcanti, Cristoforo Landino, Bernardo Nuzzi and
Giorgio Antonio Vespucci. Cavalcanti lays out five possible views of
the nature of soul and demands that Ficino explain why the Platonic
one is correct. These views include various Presocratic and Stoic
views, i.e., that the soul is a pneumatic or a fine-material
substance or that the soul is a quality dependent on material
potencies. The fifth and highest view is that of Plato and the
ancient theologians, "in whose footsteps Aristotle, the natural
philosopher, for the most part follows" : namely that the soul is
divine, i.e. "something indivisible, wholly present to every part of
the body and produced by an incorporeal creator such that it depends
only on the power of that agent," and not on any material potency.
Ficino is challenged to refute the four materialists`and prove the
view of Plato.
2. Book VI.2. Ficino's response: Refutation of the materialists by
analysis of the soul's three officio or roles: acting in the body
(the vegetative power), acting through the body (the sensitive
power) and acting through itself (the intellective power). Ficino
argues that the "vulgar philosophers" who hold to materialism have
been misled by "perverse custom" and the influence of the body, and
he devises educational thought-experiments drawn from Avicenna,
Plato's analogy of the Cave in Republic 7 and other sources to
reveal the true nature of the soul as "invisible, life-giving,
sentient, intelligible, intelligent, independent of body, active of
its own accord, heat-giving, life-giving, sentient, capable of
attaining things above, a substantial unity." The argument in II.B.2
is described as a "first foray, a sort of prelude" or protreptic to
purge the mind of the vulgar of their "wretched lack of trust" which
keeps them from acknowledging the realm of immaterial spirit.
3. Books VI.3-VIII. Return to the main argument of the Theology. Ficino takes up in turn the rationes propriae which will
demonstrate the rationes communes in greater detail, beginning with
the ratio communis of the soul's indivisibility in body. Other
rationes are then addressed in ascending hierarchical order. The
soul's indivisibility in body (and therefore its immortality) is
demonstrated from its three officio (or virtutes, powers) as
described in II.B.2, arranged hierarchically from lowest to
highest.
a. Book VI.4–13. The soul's lowest or vegetative powers, of
nutrition, locomotion and growth, already show why the soul cannot
be material or be form-in-matter: soul is a principle of activity
that applies to all bodily parts; it is not spatially divided.
b. Book VII. Proofs that the soul is not divisible from the power of
sensation: general proofs from the nature of sensation itself and
specific proofs from the soul's complexions and the harmony of its
humors.
c. Book VIII. Proofs that the soul is not indivisible as inferred
from the nature of intellection. Topics include the intellect's
relation to truth; the nature of the intellective power in itself;
its instruments (i.e., intelligible species); its operations; the
objects of intellection (i.e., universals); the possibility of
communication as such; the incorporeal way the mind is modified by
form; the goals of intellection; the infinite force of the
intellective power.
Volume 3. Books IX–XI.
4. Book IX. Immortality proofs based on a second ratio communis:
the soul's independence of body.
5. Book X. Immortality proofs based on general structural or
aesthetic principles, i.e. the fitness of immortality, given the
soul's relationship to the things below and above it in the order
of nature. Answers are given to objections from Epicurus, Lucretius,
and the Stoic Panaetius.
6. Book XI. Immortality proofs based on the soul's eternal and
immaterial objects, i.e., the Ideas. The nature of the Ideas.
Confirmation of their nature by signs. Answers to Epicureans,
Skeptics, and Peripatetics.
This is the fourth volume of the I
Tatti Renaissance Library project of reediting Marsilio Ficino's
Platonic Theology, thus superseding Raymond Marcel's pioneering
edition and French translation published in 1964-1970. In addition,
this new edition provides for the first time an English translation
facing the Latin text, making Ficino's Platonic Theology available
to a wide readership. It also includes, at the end of the volume,
two sets of explanatory notes (to the text and to the translation),
a selected bibliography of secondary sources, and an author and
subject index.
Volume IV of the I Tatti edition contains Books XII-XIV of Ficino's
Platonic Theology. It includes some of the most important
Renaissance texts on the immortality of the soul and on the concepts
of theurgy, phantasy and vacatio. Book XII demonstrates that the
soul is immortal because it is formed by the Divine Mind, and deals
with the soul's ascent to the divine ideas. Book XIII demonstrates
the soul's immortality by four signs : phantasy, reason and
prophecy, arts, and miracles. Book XIV demonstrates the soul's
immortality from the fact that the soul strives to become God.
1) The text:
The text incorporates several significant improvements to Marcel's
edition, avoiding numerous misprints and unnecessary conjectural
emendations. At the end of the volume the "notes to the translation"
include the variant readings of the different witnesses and indicate
departures from Marcel's edition.
As previously shown by Marcel (Marsile Ficin. Théologie
Platonicienne. Tome I. Livres I-VIII, Paris, Les Belles Lettres,
1964, pp. 17-30), the text of Platonic Theology is preserved in two
manuscripts, the London manuscript Harleianus 3482 (the personal
copy written for King Fernando the First), and the Florence
manuscript Pluteus 83.10 (the dedication copy written for Lorenzo
de' Medici). Harleianus 3482 derives from the second edition printed
in Venice in 1491 and can therefore be eliminated from the
apparatus. Laurentianus Pluteus 83.10, however, contains a text that
is independent of the editio princeps (Florence 1482). There are
therefore two primary witnesses, which probably derive independently
from the same archetype: the editio princeps, printed in Florence in
1482, which Ficino saw through the press and probably corrected
himself (= A), and the Florence manuscript Pluteus 83.10 (= L). The
text is also preserved in five early modern editions, including the
famous Basle edition of 1576 of Ficino's complete works. Excerpts of
the text are to be found in other works by Ficino: the Disputatio
contra iudicium astrologicum (preserved in the codex unicus
Magliabechiano XX, 58), as well as his Letters, his Compendium
Platonicae Theologiae, and his De Christianae Religione.
As stated in the first volume of the edition (p. 315), the I Tatti
editors have drawn from Marcel's edition, which is based upon the
collation of the two manuscripts (H and L), the first two editions
printed during Ficino's lifetime (A and B), and the five other early
modern editions. However, they have completely re-collated the
text's two primary witnesses and, as a result, they have been able
to emend Marcel's collation, which was not always accurate. They
also tend to adopt, when possible, the text as it is preserved in
the manuscripts/editions and sensibly delete Marcel's sometimes
unnecessary corrections and conjectural additions. For example, in
XIII, 4, section 16, the editors have avoided Marcel's conjecture
illa, preferring AL's reading ille (si quando anima hominis ita
fingat aciem suam in deum divinoque lumine impleatur rapiaturque ut
ILLE tunc aeque coruscat, ...). In one place (XIV, 10, § 11),
however, the editors follow Marcel's excellent conjecture delebit
instead of A's debebit and L's habebit (itaque si deum colere cogit
certa quaedam positio siderum, brevi positio contraria e memoria
hominum divinos DELEBIT honores).
Hankins' re-collation of the two primary witnesses (A and L) also
indicates that Marcel's text followed sometimes too readily that of
the Basle edition (which had itself been unnecessarily corrected by
its editor) in places where A and L offer a better reading (e.g.
converso : e converso Marcel, Op; suppliciter : simpliciter Marcel,
Op; appetant : appetent Marcel, Op; quid mirum : quid mirum est
Marcel, Op; appetit : petit Marcel, Op.).
2) The translation:
The I Tatti Renaissance Library also provides for the first time an
English translation of Ficino's Platonic Theology, facing the Latin
text. It is divided into chapters and paragraphs and annotated.
Michael J. B. Allen, who has already edited, translated and
commented upon several works of Ficino (including Ficino's
commentaries on Plato's Sophist, Philebus, Phaedrus), provides here
an altogether elegant and readable translation.
The "notes to the translation" include Ficino's sources for
quotations and allusions. Although they follow closely Marcel's
references, Allen's notes are more complete and accurate (e.g. the
reference in XII, 1 is to Psalm 4, 6 and 36, 9 and not, as indicated
by Marcel, Psalm 4, 7 and 25, 10). One will also find useful
explanations to the text and alternative translations of difficult
passages, as well as some basic information concerning the sources
used by Ficino and the broader context in which these sources are
used.
A very short bibliography at the end of the volume lists secondary
sources on Ficino and Renaissance humanism, including two
bibliographies (Kristeller's Marsilio Ficino and His Work after Five
Hundred Years and the bibliography updated annually in the journal
Accademia). To the works mentioned, however, the editors ought to
have added major contributions by scholars in other languages than
English, and in particular the seminal works of Eugenio Garin and
Cesare Vasoli.
Volume 4. Books XII–XIV.
7. Book XII.1-4. Immortality proof based on relationship of the mind
to God; its being formed by God. The general structure of the
argument is as follows: if the mind is formed by the Divine Mind, it
is immortal; but it is in fact formed by the Divine Mind for
suchand-such a reason, therefore etc. Ficino then answers a
possible objection: why are we nor ordinarily conscious of being
formed by the Divine Mind?
8. Book XII.5-7. Three confirmations of the arguments in II.B.1-7
derived from a consideration of sight, hearing, and the mind. These
confirmations take the form of extensive quotations from Augustine.
This provides a bridge to the next section on signs.
C. Books XIII-XIV. Immortality shown by 'signs' (rather than
reasons)
1. Book XIII. The soul shown to be immortal by signs of the soul's
power over things beneath it and its own body, for example in
psychosomatic phenomena, in phantasy, prophecy, the arts, and in the
performance of miracles. The magical powers of the soul.
a. Book XIV. Twelve signs from the soul's imitation of what is above
it: i.e. the soul's desire to be like God. Remarks on the nature and
universality of religion. Answer to the Lucretians.
Volume 5 Books XV–XVI.
III. Books XV-XVIII. Resolution of five questions relating to the
soul's immortality.
A. Book XV. Question Is there one soul for all mankind? This book
contains an exhaustive refutation of Averroes, and is in a sense the
centerpiece of the entire work, in that it draws extensively on
Ficino's prior exposition and argumentation.
B. Book XVI.1-6. Question 2: Why then did God put souls in bodies
at all? Answers to Epicureans.
C. Book XVI.7. Question 3: Why do rational souls experience
tumultuous emotions?
D. Book XVI.8. Question 4: Why do rational souls depart unwillingly
from bodies? I.e., why is there fear of death if souls are just
returning to their true home, and departing from the miseries of
this life?
Volume 6. Books XVII-XVIII.
E. Books XVII-XVIII. Question 5: What is the status of soul before
entering the body and after leaving it? The creation and
composition of souls; their kinds and their circuits (i.e., their
descents and ascents).
I. Book XVII. Excursus on issues of interpretation: what is the true
Platonic position on transmigration?
a. Book XVII.2-3. The interpretation of the last two ancient
Platonic academies.
b. Book XVII.4. The interpretation of Plato of the first four
academies, and the two better academies. The doctrine of the
transmigration of souls is condemned.
2. Book Excursus on the nature of creation in general, presenting
and defending "the theology common to the Hebrews, Christians, and
Arabs," i.e. (a) that the world was created at a certain moment of
time; (b) that angels were created from the beginning; (c) that new
immortal souls are continuously created in time. Ficino's goal is to
establish a wider theological framework, creation in general, for
his discussion of point (c): the continuous or sequential creation
of individual souls in time.
XVIII.1. Arguments that the world was created in time. XVIII.2.
Arguments for the creation of angels and souls in time.
3. Book XVIII.3. The creation of human souls in time. Arguments for
the continuous, sequential creation of souls by God. The creation of
souls is regulated by Providence, not by chance sexual unions. Why
souls had to be created successively rather than all at once.
4. Book XVIII.4-7. The descent of souls.
a. Book XVIII.4. The descent of the soul into the body. The
aethereal vehicle of the soul. The theory that the soul has three
vehicles, celestial, aerial, and elemental.
b. Book XVIII.5. In what part of heaven souls are created. The
influence of the stars and their configurations on the soul in its
descent.
c. Book XVIII.6. Physical generation in the body; the soul's
attendant genius; our souls' need for the protection of higher
powers.
d. Book XVIII.7. Infusion of the soul into the mid-point of the
body, the heart, and the soul's relation with the body's heat, its
spirit, its humors and heavier members.
5. Book XVIII.8-12. The ascent of souls, or more broadly, what
happens to the soul and its body after death.
a. Book XVIII.8. The state of pure souls after separation from the
body, i.e., the souls of the blessed. The capacity of the rational
soul to see the light of God; capacity of the soul to love God's
light. The ninefold degrees of blessedness; the changelessness of
the pure soul; the nature of its union with God; that even the
lowest species of soul—the human rational soul — is capable of union
with God; ranking of souls in heaven; rest of reason in the vision
of God; rest of the will in the love of God.
b. Book XVIII.9. On the bodies of pure souls after death, i.e. the
resurrection of the body, prefigured in pagan religion and confirmed
by the three modern religions, Christianity, Judaism and Islam. Four
proofs of the Resurrection from "Christian theologians", i.e. Thomas
Aquinas. Further arguments from the order of nature.
c. Book XVIII.10. The state of the impure soul. Platonic and
Christian doctrines of rewards and punishments compared; the four
ways of living life; the possibility that impure souls without fixed
habits of evil can attain blessedness after death; the doctrine of
the afterlife and hell in the ancient theologians.
d. The middle state of rational souls that are neither pure nor
impure. What happens to children who die before they are capable of
making a choice of life; what happens to persons who are mentally
defective.
e. Concluding exhortation to live for eternity, not for this life.
Commentaries on Plato, Volume 1, Phaedrus and Ion (The I Tatti
Renaissance Library) by Marsilio Ficino and Michael J. B. Allen
(Harvard University Press) Marsilio Ficino (1433–1499), the
Florentine scholar-philosopher-magus, was largely responsible for
the Renaissance revival of Plato. The publication of his Latin
translations of the dialogues in 1484 was an intellectual event of
the first magnitude, making the Platonic canon accessible to western
Europe after the passing of a millennium and establishing Plato as
an authority for Renaissance thought. This volume contains Ficino’s
extended analysis and commentary on the Phaedrus, which he
explicates as a meditation on “beauty in all its forms” and a
sublime work of theology. In the commentary on the Ion, Ficino
explores a poetics of divine inspiration that leads to the
Neoplatonist portrayal of the soul as a rhapsode whose song is an
ascent into the mind of God. Both works bear witness to Ficino’s
attempt to revive a Christian Platonism and what might be called an
Orphic Christianity.
Review by Giorgio A. Pinton:
In my reviewing of this volume, I will mainly limit myself to the consideration of its structural organization, with fewer remarks about the content, and even less about its enormous importance for the study of the father of the Renaissance.
The book is volume 1 in the i Tatti Renaissance Library series that intends to make available to scholars all the writings of Marsilio Ficino on Plato. To this end, Michael J. B. Allen has written about the important presence and place of the Phaedrus within Plato’s and Ficino’s thought, method, and historiography and their textual encounter. In the introduction, Allen corrects the date given to Plato’s writing of Phaedrus and places it between 1466 and 1468. He also underlines the importance of handling this dialogue with “extreme delicacy and circumspection” (p. xxi) given the opinions expressed on its subject matter: the frenzy of love, physical and celestial. The notions expressed by Socrates often are those of his predecessors, the Pythagoreans, rather than his own or Plato’s. Socrates, says Allen, is speaking as the medium of an earlier wisdom. With Oscar P. Kristeller Allen claims that the eventual publication of Ficino’s Platonic works in 1484 far surpassed all other translations of the time and constituted “an intellectual event of the first magnitude, since they established Plato as a newly discovered authority for the Renaissance who could now take precedence over Aristotle” (p. xxiii). Eugenio Garin said that Ficino relied at first on Latin translations of Plato; that he studied Greek beginning in 1458-59 and that it was only in 1462 that Cosimo the Elder and Amerigo Benci gave Ficino the gift of a Platonic Codex that Ficino began to translate into Latin. As Allen says, the 1460s was “the most productive decade in an exceptionally productive life” (p. xxii).
The introduction, translation of the text, appendices, notes, bibliography, and index are due to the editor-translator. The rest is by the hand of Ficino, who translated from Greek the central part of the dialogue, which has traditionally been identified by the paragraphs and the sentences numbered 243E9-256A7, and named the "mythical hymn,” as Socrates refers to it at a different spot in the dialogue, at 265C (in the Stephanus pagination, known as the standard subdivision of Plato’s dialogues). As the`serious student will read the full introduction, so must the general reader and the interested student because, from p. 1 on, this book at first glance may seem a muddle. Recognizing the problem, the editor has provided the map (p. xxviii). His personal evaluation of Ficino’s translation of the Phaedrus (part 1: from pp. 2-3 to pp. 36-37), Ficino’s commentary on Phaedrus (part 2: from pp. 38-39 to pp. 102-103), and Ficino’s own summaries of the chapters of the whole dialogue (part 3: from pp. 104-105 to pp. 192-193) is found at pp. xxix-xxxvii.
Part 1, or the mythical hymn, is the central core of the dialogue and is composed of twenty-one (from chapter 13 to 33) of the fifty-three chapters into which the dialogue is subdivided in Ficino and which are all presented in a kind of interpretative summa in part 3 (pp. xxxi-xxxii). It was natural for Ficino to concentrate his commentary (part 2) on the twenty-one chapters, or mythical hymn (part 1), since they were the ones that captured his inner soul and tormented him for many years thereafter with the anguish of finding the final interpretation and solution to the problems they raised, as one can see in part 2 (the palinode).
Part 2, or the commentary, unfortunately is at its own turn divided by Ficino into eleven chapters, the first three of which were once a unity for “the assessment of the Phaedrus in the 1460s” (p. xxix). It is a confirmation of the fact that he did not renege on or revise it, when he put it into the present format. The next eight chapters constitute the commentary proper. Chapter 4 begins with 245A and “deals exclusively with the divine frenzies, primarily the poetic” (p. xxx). Chapters 5 and 6 address the rigorously syllogistic section from 245C to 246A, which concerns the soul’s immortality. Chapters 7, 8, and 9 treat of the soul nature and powers, that is, the ramifications of the charioteer, horses, wings, wheels, and the chariot myth. Chapters 10 and 11 present the Jovian cavalcade (how the gods may be multiplied in four ways) and its cosmological flight (the four worlds, the supercelestial place, the twelve gods). Allen is diligent in providing some precious lines that show in brief the continuity in these sections concerning the drama of the soul in its ascent: “with the individual soul’s ascent through the four divine inspirations [see Ion, or part 4], then with the ascent to immortality, … and finally with the ascent of the Soul (Jupiter) and all the souls, as a cavalcade of gods and men, … beyond the arch of the intellectual heaven to gaze upon the supracelestial place, the portal of the transcendent One” (p. xxxi).
In part 3, Ficino reviews every chapter: briefly for chapters 1-12 (227A-243E) and chapters 34-53 (257A-279C); extensively for chapters 13-33, the palinode or mythical hymn (243E9-256A7), about which he could never feel unambiguously sure of having fully understood the meaning, the imagery, and Plato’s handling of it. “The Phaedrus was about the most august mysteries of inspiration, theogony, incarnation, soteriology, eschatology, and purification, as Jamblichus had long ago insisted by defining its genre as theological, not as logical, physical, or ethical” (p. xi).
Hermias and Theon of Smyrna had also compiled a commentary on Phaedrus, but Ficino, because of its complexity and multiple perspectives, returned often to meditate on it, always unable to express with definitive words the infinitely indefinitive. Several times, Ficino referred to this dialogue, mainly to the palinode (the mythical hymn and its commentary), and in some other writings and letters, approached it as the archaeologist of thought he had been, the philologist of ancient Greek he became, the priest of the Platonic temple of light and love, he wanted to be. He felt himself incapable of reaching the ultimate meaning of the Phaedran palinode, aware of the presence in it of the same idea of the eternal revelation he found in the Hermes Trismegistus.
Though always unsatisfied, uneasy, in regard to the Phaedrus, the Phaedrus “had supplied [Ficino] with some of his most haunting concepts and images, as it had the ancient Neoplatonists before him.” His characterization of the Phaedran charioteer became “one of the Renaissance’s most potent and expressive self-images.” We may affirm, “he was unquestionably the best equipped scholar-philosopher in the Latin West to rise to the challenge of interpreting its riches” (p. xxxv).
In part 4, with his interpretation and introduction to Ion, Ficino returns to the consideration of the positions taken in regard to the frenzy of love and other frenzies in the Phaedrus. The dialogue Ion is short; it is contained between paragraphs 530-542 in the Stephanus pagination. In itself, Ion is another ramification from the Phaedrus, at least the way Ficino reads it. Ficino's introduction to Ion consists of four chapters that he wrote for his commentary in Convivium (speech 7.13-7.14) and five more, in which Ficino’s interpretation “elevates the image of the rhapsode to the level of a universal condition: man as rhapsode is man in search of the divine gift” of inspiration (p. xxxvii). And it is the four kinds of inspiration from God that this introduction-commentary on Ion deals with: the poetic frenzy, or first step from the multiplicity of soul’s dispersions; the priestly frenzy, or expiation and ritualization of the worship from the gods to one god; the prophetic frenzy, or foresight of future events; finally, the frenzy of the love that converts into the One. The Ion returns to use the images of the charioteer and his horses, and this fact must have influenced Ficino to consider Ion the extension of Phaedrus.
Even those with little Latin would enjoy these splendid and uncommon texts of Ficino, thanks to the editor’s formatting and his captivating English narration. The profundity and expertise shown by Prof. Allen in the introduction should not remain unnoticed or disregarded. The only way to value and enjoy these sublime texts on the Platonism of the Renaissance is to read the pages of the introduction alternatively with the pages of the texts to which they refer.
The above revie is by Giorgio A. Pinton. Review of Ficino, Marsilio, Commentaries on Plato, Volume 1, Phaedrus and Ion. from H-Italy, H-Net Reviews. March, 2010
Commentaries on Plato, Volume 1, Phaedrus and Ion (The I Tatti Renaissance Library) by Marsilio Ficino and Michael J. B. Allen (Harvard University Press)
This work is a revision of
Marsilio Ficino and the Phaedran Charioteer by Michael J. B.
Allen (Publications of the UCLA Center for Medieval and Renaissance
Studies: University of California Press) and especially
The Platonism of Marsilio Ficino: A Study of His Phaedrus
Commentary, Its Sources and Genesis by Michael Allen
(Publications of the UCLA Center for Medieval and Renaissance
Studies: University of California Press).
Marsilio Ficino and the Phaedran Charioteer by Michael J. B.
Allen (Publications of the UCLA Center for Medieval and Renaissance
Studies: University of California Press) Socrates' mythical hymn in
the Phaedrus 243E-257A, with its charioteer struggling to master his
stallions in flight with the gods, is, along with the flickering
cave of the Republic and the Phaedo's hemlock death, one of Plato's
most dazzling and memorable pieces. It is also the most
self-consciously poetic in terms of its diction, gorgeous rhythms
and figures, dramatic juxtapositions, elaborate allegory, and
symphonic structure.' Socrates himself emerges, though through veils
of irony, not as the gadfly at the cabbage ears of Athenian youth or
the lips of their favorite Sophists, the shop logician with his
tradesman's analogies archly analyzing terms, but as the ecstatic
seer, the poet-prophet, singing to Corybantian measures of man's
agonistic ascent to heaven, of the fall, of true knowledge, of
immortality; singing, moreover, in an unfamiliar setting, aureoled
by cicadas beside a river at noon, in a grove hallowed by the local
deities, and 400 yards upstream from an altar dedicated to the rape
of Oreithyia by the North Wind; his companion, the radiant
Phaedrus, the initiator of the night's debate in the Symposium and
the champion there of Love's divinity.
This mythical hymn—which Socrates so describes at 265BC —is
beguilingly distanced and qualified, however, by various literary
devices. Inaugurated by the analysis of two syllogisms and ended by
a prayer, it offsets two previous speeches, one by
Lysias and another by Socrates, and is itself presented as a
palinode to the god of Love. It is also orbited by satellite myths
and invocations—themselves calling for sensitive
interpretation—which underscore its mythic nature and simultaneously
reinforce its concern with the kinds and degrees of divine
inspiration, mania, madness. Though formally bracketed in this way,
the hymn nevertheless exercizes dominion over the rest of the
material and serves, in the opinion of both ancient and modern
commentators, as the dialogue's prismatic centerpiece.
Allen has spoken of the hymn rather than of the dialogue as a whole,
since it was this that also fascinated Marsilio Ficino, the
fifteenth-century Florentine whose work was patronized by three
generations of the Medici and who was one of the most interesting
and exotic luminaries of the European Renaissance. Translator from
the Greek and commentator; Christian apologist, theologian,
teacher, exegete, priest; musical theorist and notable performer;
mythologist, metaphysician, lapsed astrologer; belletrist, ethician, versifier, dialectician; medical theorist and practitioner
and love theorist; psychiatrist, Thomist, demonologist; Hermetist,
Orphic, Augustinian, Dantean, dietician; historian of poetry,
religion, philosophy, and pleasure; quietist, mystic, mage,
humanist, wit; devout son and timid sycophant; above all,
Neoplatonist, Ficino was a highly derivative and original,
conservative and bizarre, succinctly repetitive scholar-thinker, as
difficult for us to assess in detail now as in entirety. Despite the
research of several scholars this century, and preeminently that of
Paul Oskar Kristeller, much remains to be discovered and understood
about him, for his enormous influence, contemporary and posthumous,
has been better charted than many of his guiding conceptions and
motifs, including that of the Phaedran chariot and its charioteer.
A symbol of the sun's disk for many of the ancient Semitic and
Indo-European peoples, in the West the chariot has long been
associated with the world of Homer, where it bears Achaian and
Trojan princes alike to victory and defeat on the windy plains.' It
was, of course, the ultimate war machine of antiquity as well as an
image of royalty, the embodiment of superhuman speed, awesome and
ineluctable. In his career the charioteer united the strength and
beauty of the stallion with the intelligence and courage of man and
thereby became a being who transcended the limitations of both the
human body and the brute mind. Within but not enslaved to the
chariot—like his parodic counterpart, the lust-driven centaur—he was
man at the height of terrible triumph, self-determining and free. Sung by Pindar and later carved in the Arch of Titus, he thundered
forward in an intensification of life towards a mastery of death;
and he was the hero, in both ancient and Renaissance depictions and allegorizations of the triumph theme, who returned, bringing peace
into his city with the spoils of conquest. He was active man, that
is, in his paradoxical struggle to achieve serenity through
violence.
Just as the Bhagavad Gita has Arjuna turn to the charioteer, the god
Krishna, on the very threshold of battle, however, to ascend the
spiraling contradictions of being and nonbeing, so too many texts in
the pre-Christian and the Christian West also recognized the value
of the charioteer as a symbol of mystical ascent. Ficino knew the
fragmentary Poema of Plato's most distinguished predecessor,
Parmenides, the Eleatic monist, where the poet describes a visionary
chariot ride up through the gates of Night and Day, accompanied by
the daughters of the Sun, to be welcomed by an unnamed goddess whose
instruction fails to inspire the rest of the plodding hexameters. He
was even more familiar, though, with the fiery chariot in the second
book of Kings which caught Elijah (Elias) up to heaven in a
whirlwind;' with the apocalyptic four-wheeled "chariot" of the
cherubim which Ezekiel witnessed in a vision by the river of Chebar
in the land of the Chaldees; and with the four horses, the white one
bearing a rider later called Faithful and True, which John sees at
the opening of the seven seals in Revelation. In addition, and
perhaps with Dante's description of the triumph of Beatrice also in
mind, he was drawn to the enigmatic verses in 2 Corinthians where
Paul speaks of being caught up to the third heaven, to paradise, for
he interpreted it as taking place in the chariot of "upright faith,
and steadfast hope, and burning charity." Though none of these
classical or biblical chariots or charioteers is winged per se, they
all translate the horizontal warrior's onslaught into a vertical
flight: endowed with the power of wings, they might well have been
endowed with actual wings, the archetypal symbols of transcendence.
As precedents here Ficino could recall the god-given horses of
Pelops; Pegasus, the symbol, for the Romans, of immortality itself;
and Ezekiel's four-faced cherubim with the likeness of the hands of
a man under their wings.
While these several associations, along with others undoubtedly
derived from contemporary carnivals and trionfi, all had something
to contribute, it was nevertheless the Phaedrus's palinode that
supplied Ficino, as it had supplied the ancient Neoplatonists
commencing with Plotinus and Iamblichus," with the paradigmatic
symbol of the soul's struggle to ascend as a unified being to the
vision of immutable reality. And not only the human soul: indebted
perhaps to Orpheus and the Pythagoreans, Plato had ventured further
than Homer or Parmenides and depicted the souls of the gods
themselves as charioteers too, gazing upwards at the supracelestial
place of the Ideas beyond the bounds of their intellectual heaven.
He had transformed the Homeric charioteer into a symbol not only of
the human soul in divine ecstasy, but of Jove as the world-soul, the
progenitor of motion and of life, leading the cosmic cavalcade of
all the souls and gods back to their metaphysical source. The old
symbol of war and triumph, even of spiritual triumph, had thus
become a theological type prefiguring, for Ficino, the ascension of
men and angels under Christ as the first, last, and sovereign
charioteer at the head of the hosts of the saved returning to God.
Also associated with the image of the charioteer, though less
obviously, were Plato's intriguing references in the`Phaedrus to a
mysterious but supremely important entity, the soul's "aethereal
vehicle," the spiritual body or envelope that had been the concern
of much ancient theosophical and theurgical speculation but was
also the object of considerable fascination for Ficino and his
Renaissance contemporaries, philosophers, mages, and astrologers
alike.
In short, the Phaedrus was fundamentally about the mysteries at the
heart of theogony, incarnation, soteriology, eschatology, and
purification, as Iamblichus had long ago insisted by defining its
genre as theological, not logical, physical, or ethical." Indeed,
for the Florentine, as for the Neoplatonists, the Phaedrus seemed to
be one of Plato's most explicit works of theology (second only to
the Parmenides and, possibly, the Timaeus), and its charioteer,
therefore, one of his premier myths for truly liberated man, man as
a peer of the angelic orders, of the gods themselves.
***
With the major exceptions of the Meno and Phaedo, and parts of the
Parmenides and Timaeus, Plato's dialogues were completely lost to
the West during the Middle Age—the Byzantine East is a different
matter—though Platonism continued to flourish under various guises,
and particularly Augustinianism. Not until Ficino himself translated
it did the entire canon become accessible again after the passing of
a millennium and Plato move into his European own. The Phaedrus,
however, was one of several dialogues that had already captured the
notice of humanists. A year after Aurispa and Traversari had brought
over a complete Plato manuscript from Byzantium in 1423, Leonardo
Bruni finished a partial Latin translation of the Phaedrus (up to
257C), the only attempt to precede Ficino's. Occasionally, the
dialogue figured in Plethora's reconstruction of ancient pagan
theology and in the uproar that swirled around him as a consequence
even after his death in 1458. By that year it was also at the storm
center of bitter debate between other Byzantine Plato enthusiasts
(and their Italian admirers) and a Cretan Aristotelian lecturing in
Italy, the great polemicist and anti-Plethonian, George of
Trebizond, who charged it with advocating the "Socratic vice" of
pederasty. In 1459, not long before Ficino embarked on his own Plato
translations, Cardinal Bessarion, George's distinguished antagonist,
defended the dialogue on the grounds that it portrayed love as a cathartic, not as a
sexual, force and should be interpreted in the light of Diotima's
ladder in the Symposium. Controversy smouldered during the 1460s
until, after a final flare with the publication of Bessarion's
magnum opus in 1469, it died away with the deaths of both George and
the cardinal in 1472. Thus, unlike most of the other dialogues,
the Phaedrus had made an impact before Ficino began to translate and
elucidate its secrets. After him it became one of the age's most
treasured texts, whether read in the Greek, in Ficino's Latin—which
quickly superseded Bruni's —or in Felice Figliucci's
sixteenth-century Italian translation of Ficino's Latin.
Apart from the manifest appeal and difficulty of the work and his
contemporaries' ambivalent attraction to it, three external reasons
must have influenced Ficino's decision to single it out, with a
handful of other dialogues, for extended analysis and commentary—the
first since antiquity. First would be his understanding of the
status of the Phaedrus in the eyes of the ancient Neoplatonists.
Attacked on various grounds by critics prior to Plotinus, the
Phaedrus was radically upgraded by those who followed him. Plotinus
himself was partially responsible for this turnabout, for he
frequently lauds the Phaedrus's myth along with sundry of its
arguments and at one point argues that the "heaven" of 246E must be
deemed, not the celestial heaven, but intelligible reality."
According to Bielmeier and, more recently, Dillon and Larsen,
however, the real revolution came with Iamblichus. He not only
promulgated what came to be, at least for a while, definitive
answers to the complicated questions of the dialogue's genre,
principal theme (skopos), and structure, but also insisted,
apparently for the first time, on interpreting the Phaedran Zeus,
not as a cosmic deity, as the celestial world-soul, but as the
supramundane, supracelestial demiurgic leader from the intelligible
realm." While Plotinus had argued for the intelligibility of the
heaven at 246E, he had accepted Zeus as the world-soul; and Ficino
thought this the preferable interpretation, as he says in chapter
11. Nevertheless, it was Iamblichus's supramundanist,
uncompromisingly the ological interpretation that prevailed in late
antiquity, and was, in essence, the one expounded and elaborated by
Syrianus and his two pupils, Hermias and the brilliant Proclus—at
least insofar as we can ascertain from Hermias's Phaedrus
commentary, our primary source of evidence on this matter and the
only extant Phaedrus commentary of the several we have references
to." Even if he rejected Iamblichus's views on the Phaedrus, Ficino
was certainly aware of them, having drafted a Latin translation of
Hermias's entire commentary. This mediated knowledge of lamblichus
together with long years of working firsthand with Plotinus's
extensive but often rather elusive and enigmatic references to the
Phaedrus would be quite sufficient to furnish him with a good
understanding of the ancient significance of the dialogue.
Additionally, from as early as the 1460s he seems to have known
Proclus's long masterpiece, the Platonic Theology, for we have his
autograph notes and glosses in a manuscript containing the full
extant Greek text of this and two other Proclan works, the Elements
of Theology and the Elements of Physics. H. D. Saffrey has
discovered that these notes seem to have been jotted down at various
times during Ficino's career, though most of them probably date from
the 1490s. They cover all six books of the Platonic Theology, and
therefore books 1 and 4, where Proclus had most to say on the
Phaedrus and particularly on its various categories of gods, their
ascent, and their gazing upward at "the supracelestial place.
Though Ficino disagreed with many points in Proclus's reading,
still, the area of Proclus's explicit concentration, his conviction
of the work's theological importance, and his emphasis throughout
on the inspired nature of Socrates's vision, must have all
reinforced Ficino's own sense of the dialogue's structure and
meaning and alerted him to the kinds of problems it posed. Indeed,
of the three ancient Phaedrus interpreters Ficino had access to,
Allen suspects that it was Proclus who most influenced his general approach
to the mythical hymn, even though he barely mentioned him and though
he rejected his supramundanist interpretation of Zeus, preferring
Plotinus as his guide.
The second reason for Ficino's interest in the Phaedrus would be its
appearance as the fourth member of the third tetralogy in
Thrasyllus's arrangement of the dialogues as reported by Diogenes
Laertius (to whom we often give little credence, but whom Ficino
constantly used as an authority)." The other members of this
tetralogy are the Parmenides, the Philebus, and the Symposium. Each
we now assign to Plato's middle or late middle periods, when he was
at the height of his powers, but the ancient Neoplatonists also
acknowledged these works as the cornerstones of Plato's philosophy,
even though they differed among themselves on the correct
chronology. For Ficino the members of the tetralogy had as their
themes the One, the Good, Love, and Beauty, respectively; that is,
Ideas that transcended other Ideas in Plato's general theory and
had thus become meta-Ideas, the ultimate abstract realities. Though
Ficino subsequently paired off the members, the Symposium and the
Phaedrus constituting the subordinate pair," the four taken together
formed a very special group—as the numerologically significant
position of being the third tetralogy in a series of nine would also
seem to testify. Ficino managed to write three long commentaries on
the tetralogy's first three members, though one he never finished,"
and clearly he intended an equivalent for the Phaedrus, in part, I
surmise, to do justice to the Thrasyllean arrangement and its
putative logic.
The third reason would be the outcome of one of those scholarly
errors that very occasionally, as in the case of the Areopagite,
give rise to speculation with its own enduring worth and
fascination. Now usually placed between the Republic and the
Symposium on the one hand and the Theaetetus and the Parmenides on
the other," the Phaedrus, so both Bruni and Ficino believed, was
composed in Plato's youth along with the Meno and the Phaedo.
Indeed, but for the epigrams, elegies, and incinerated tragedies, it
was the very first of Plato's writings and the product therefore of
poetic inspiration (Plato's inspiration being, by Diogenes's
influential account, initially poetic)." The original introduction
Ficino wrote for his Latin translation of the Phaedrus, an
introduction that afterwards also did duty as the opening three
chapters of the Phaedrus commentary, orients us as follows: "Our
Plato was pregnant with the madness of the poetic Muse, whom he
followed from a tender age or rather from his Apollonian generation.
In his radiance, Plato gave birth to his first child, and it was
itself almost entirely poetical and radiant." The themes of youth,
beauty, love, and poetry are, as they are for the company in the
Symposium, intertwined for Ficino, and they seem to be those he
initially selected for mention, before the theological aspects came
to dominate his attention. Their presence in the dialogue surely
reinforced his conviction of its youthfulness.
This conviction was not uniquely his and Bruni's. Both were adhering
to ancient doxographical tradition as transmitted by Diogenes
Laertius, Olympiodorus, and others," and which in turn they helped
to transmit through to the first half of the nineteenth century.
The Phaedrus, Diogenes claimed on anonymously reported testimony,
had a youthful theme (echein meirakiõdes ti to problèma); but the
nature of this theme had always been a matter of debate, and
particularly after lamblichus had declared, on the basis of the
Phaedrus's own argument at 264C that a speech should be put together
organically, that "everything in the dialogue [indeed in any
dialogue] must relate to some one end, that the dialogue may be, so
to speak, one living being. While Thrasyllus had simply assigned
a dominant theme to each dialogue, the Symposium being on the Good,
the Phaedrus on Love, and so forth, the post-Iamblichean
Neoplatonists insisted that each dialogue had a unique,
all-embracing theme, called the skopos, which other subordinate
themes had as their end and goal and to which absolutely everything
else, however minor or incidental, was tied.' Thus the Par-men ides
was on the One, the Philebus on the Highest Good, the Symposium on
Love, the Lysis on Friendship. Since this was too rigid a schema for
the multifariousness of what Plato had actually written,
disagreement continued, even among orthodox Neoplatonists, over the
skopoi of many dialogues: Was the Philebus on pleasure, the good
for man, the highest good, and so on? Still, to look for the skopos
was to look for a dialogue's inner unity and, at the same time, for
its special contribution to the edifice of Platonic doctrine, its
role in the greater whole of the canon. To rest content with the
variegated play of ideas and their dramatic juxtapositions, with the
experimental, experiential, paradoxical testing of theories and
definitions, would have seemed to them, as to Ficino, rather the
overingenious appreciation of a dramatist than the genuine
understanding of a philosopher and theologian. The Phaedrus, though,
presented peculiar problems.
Hermias spends a number of his opening pages reviewing—twice, in
fact—the various skopological possibilities that had already been
proposed—love, rhetoric, the soul, the good, prime beauty, each of
these but none with absolute primacy. Eventually he justifies
Iamblichus's view that the skopos was beauty in all its forms (peri
tou pantodapou kalou) on the grounds that it includes the other
possibilities: we pass from the physical beauty inspiring love to
the beauty of rhetoric, to the beauty of soul, to the beauty of the
cosmic gods, to the beauty of intellect, to the Beautiful itself.
Subsequently, in a corresponding descent, we pass, via the art of
division (diairesis), to the beauty of soul, to the beauty of
rhetoric, to the physical beauty inspiring love, and thus arrive at
our point of departure." Consideration of the skopos therefore
provided an insight into the structure of the Phaedrus and
reinforced Iamblichus's view of its genre as theological; for
Plato's concern with other kinds of beauty was clearly subordinated
here to that of the beauty of the soul, of the gods, and of the
Beautiful itself.
While evincing some hesitation and without committing himself to the
structural extension of Hermias's argument, Ficino accepted this
"beauty in all its forms" as the dialogue's theme. Simultaneously,
when penning the introduction if not later, he felt the Phaedrus
naturally complemented the Symposium. Not only did Phaedrus figure
prominently in both dialogues, but both treated the same
inspirational themes, with the possible exception of rhetoric, and
in both the ascent motif predominated. We must reverse our sense of
the mutual relationship, however: for Ficino, Phaedrus's
conversation with Socrates by the murmuring Ilissus preceded his
passionate defense of Love's antiquity at Agathon's celebration
banquet; that is, Plato's consideration of love grew naturally out
of a consideration of beauty. This is logical when we recall that
beauty is traditionally both the most accessible of divine
attributes and the mark of youth. By being beautiful, youth inspires
in others the desire for beauty, which is love. In reciprocating
love, youth then takes its first step on the road to wisdom, which
is inner beauty (Phaedrus 279B).4°
Phaedrus, to whom Plato had addressed a lovesick epigram," whom
Socrates and Lysias had also loved, and whose very name means
youthful and radiant and inspiring love," is therefore Plato's
archetypal youth at the foot of the Diotiman ladder of ascent to
ideal Beauty, waiting to become the godlike charioteer. By the same
token he is the archetypal pupil inspiring the teacher to his
heuristic task. Hence, Ficino observes, though devoted to beauty in
all its forms, the dialogue is especially concerned with beauty as
we perceive it via our three cognitive powers: intelligence, sight,
and hearing." Appropriately, therefore, the theme of Plato's first
dialogue is beauty, since it is the trigger theme for all others.
Appropriate, too, is the personal dimension, since Phaedrus had
inspired both Socrates and Plato to their subsequent work: from him,
his beauty, and his dialogue had come their desire to teach the
mysteries. This unexpected angle was dramatically reinforced by Ficino's decision to entrust Phaedrus's Symposium speech to the
aristocratic Cavalcanti, his own Platonic friend, the etymology of
whose name, I believe, signified for Ficino in this context a
mastery of the unruly Phaedran steeds."
Whereas Diogenes Laertius referred in the first instance to the
youthfulness of the Phaedrus's theme, others, such as Dicaearchus,
had censured its youthful style, characterizing it as "turgid" and
"overwrought" (phortikos), or, more positively, with Olympiodorus,
as "dithyrambic"' (following Socrates himself at 238D!). According
to Hermias, these stylistic strictures were widespread in antiquity,
though he himself defended Plato on the grounds that he had
utilized a variety of styles in the Phaedrus in order to deal with
its variety of subject matter." While Ficino accepted the style as
further proof of the dialogue's youthfulness, he was struck by its
"radiance" and "loveliness", by its being demon endowed even with a
"poetic" vision,' a vision that, as he forcefully points out on a
number of occasions, reveals itself in virtually all the dialogues
but is absolutely primary here. In the proem accompanying the 1484
edition, Ficino draws Lorenzo's attention to Plato's amphibian
style:
Plato's style does not so much resemble human speech as a divine
oracle, often thundering from on high, often dripping with the
sweetness of nectar, but always comprehending heavenly secrets . .
. . The Platonic style, in containing all things, has three
principal gifts in abundance: the philosophic usefulness of its
opinions, the oratorical order of its arrangement and expression,
and the ornament of its poetical flowers.
Again, in a letter of 1476-1477 to the humanist Bartolomeo della
Fonte, Ficino writes:
If you hear the celestial Plato you immediately recognize that his
style, as Aristotle says, flows midway between prose and poetry. You
recognize that Plato's language, as Quintilian says, rises far
above the pedestrian and prosaic, so that our Plato seems inspired
not by human genius but by a Delphic oracle. Indeed the mixing or
tempering of prose and poetry in Plato so delighted Cicero that he
declared: "If Jupiter wished to speak in human language, he would
speak only in the language of Plato."
If this is true of Plato's style in general, it is eminently so for
that of the Phaedrus, where Ficino sees Socrates inspired by a
number of deities and subject to an ascending series of divine
madnesses, beginning with the poetic. Thus as the first great poem
by Plato—whom Ficino believed to be the last and greatest of the prisci theologi, the tradition of ancient poets, prophets, priests,
and philosopher—the Phaedrus establishes poetry as the philosophic
mode par excellence and the poetical style as the authentically
Platonic style.
Whatever the nature of the thematic and stylistic evidence from
Diogenes, Olympiodorus, Hermias, and others, the fact of the
priority of the Phaedrus was especially meaningful to Ficino,
despite his lack of interest otherwise in chronological or
developmental questions." Given a syncretistic approach to the canon
and a commitment to the notion of its internal consistency and
unity, each dialogue will necessarily reflect in varying degrees, if
not monadically contain, the whole; but none to a greater degree
than the first. It will be the seminal work from which later works
take their origin and in which they are potentially contained—the
protodialogue. If the tradition had fastened upon apprentice work,
juvenilia in the pejorative sense, then Ficino might have decided to
ignore it, despite its priority. But since tradition had assigned
priority to a piece so consummately conceived and executed, it
became inevitable and even logical, given a Neoplatonic perspective
and values, that Ficino approach the Phaedrus as a cipher to Plato's
subsequent mysteries. Ironically, this line of argument supplied
the grounds for Schleiermacher's acceptance of the tradition of the
priority of the Phaedrus as late as the nineteenth century," and the
manifest quality of the piece merely served to reinforce the
tradition. In other words, the priority amounted to a kind of
primacy," at least with regard to those matters touched upon in the
mythical hymn.
The Platonism of Marsilio Ficino: A Study of His Phaedrus
Commentary, Its Sources and Genesis by Michael Allen
(Publications of the UCLA Center for Medieval and Renaissance
Studies: University of California Press) Michael Allen gave us in
1981 the first critical edition and translation of a commentary by
the enormously influential Florentine Neoplatonist, Marsilio Ficino
(1439-1499), on the Phaedrus's memorable if complex myth of man's
soul as a winged charioteer. Now he uses this commentary as a
springboard for an extended study of many aspects of Ficino's
philosophy, poetics, and mythology. Though his specific aim has
been to deepen our understanding of Ficino's genius as a Platonic
commentator, he has also succeeded in enhancing our appreciation of
Ficino's ideas in general and of his independent relationship to the
ancient Neoplatonic tradition in which as a scholar he was so
thoroughly and luminously immersed.
To do justice to both these particular and larger aims, Allen has
organized his first eight chapters around certain dominant themes:
the demonic inspiration of Socrates; the poetic and the other divine madnesses; the soul's descent, ascent, and immortality; the
cavalcade of souls under Jove and its journey across the
intellectual heaven; and the ideas of beauty and love. In two final
chapters he provides a detailed examination of Ficino's attempts in
other works to analyze the charioteer myth and also looks at the
nature and extent of Ficino's recondite sources.
In thus focusing on a work where the preoccupations of Ficino's
later years as a magus and an exegete of the Platonic mysteries—as
well as an apologist and metaphysician—have come to the fore, Allen
has written the first sustained and wide-ranging account of Ficino's
thought since Paul Kristeller's magisterial study of 1943, a work to
which it may serve indeed as a fitting complement.
In 1496 the great Florentine Neoplatonist Marsilio Ficino
(1433-1499) published, along with some other Plato commentaries, an
incomplete commentary on Plato's Phaedrus. The culminating attempt
in a series of analyses, and written as late probably as 1493, it
focused on one of the most memorable episodes in all of Greek
literature, the myth of the charioteer's ascent in the gods' company
to gaze upwards at the Ideas in the "supercelestial place." Bar
occasional citation, and a few appreciative but wholly passing
remarks by Giuseppe Saitta and Raymond Marcel,' the Commentary has
been almost completely neglected, however—unhappily if not
unaccountably so, given its difficulties, for it contains some of
Ficino's latest and most speculative thought on Platonic theogony,
mythology, and cosmology, on the metaphysics as well as the
psychology and epistemology of beauty, on the soul's flight,
descent, and immortality, and on the origins and nature of the four
divine madnesses, preeminently the poetic and the amatory.
The Commentary also betrays some fascinating misconceptions of the
Phaedrus, already a controversial text among Byzantine scholars in
quattrocento Italy. On ancient authority not discounted till the
nineteenth century, Ficino assumed it was Plato's first dialogue,
oriented towards the themes of youth, beauty, and love, and also his
most lyrical work. Like Solomon's Canticle (which is at one point
invoked), it was the song of a poet-theologian rather than the
measured discourse of a philosopher. Conveying religious mysteries
in the dithyrambic language of possession, it portrayed a demon-rapt
and visionary Socrates caught up in an enchanted grove by the
spirits of noon and the river Ilissus, and by the beauty of
Phaedrus, the beloved also of Lysias and Plato. As Plato's first and
most poetic work, it also anticipated his subsequent dialogues
while bearing witness to his indebtedness to the ancient sages and
particularly to his chosen teachers, the Pythagoreans.
In immediately obvious ways, naturally, Ficino's sense of
responsibility to this text was different from a modern scholar's,
since less attuned to the historical limitations of its language,
theses, and underlying attitudes. But he was no less committed to an
understanding of Platonic values, and to meeting and transmitting
the challenge of one of the ancient world's most evocative and
complex works of literary and philosophical art. In the process he
exercised considerable originality.
Some, who have narrow criteria for defining a thinker, or who deem
all Neoplatonists essentially the same,' dispute Ficino's claim to
originality, though prepared perhaps to grant him special skills as
a translator and academician. In this they fail, I believe, to
appreciate his remarkable accomplishments as a builder of myth and
symbol rather than of language or logic—his ability to deploy
abstract ideas culled from a variety of sources, many of them
arcane, as if they were metaphors, and to deploy them for
paraphilosophical ends: apology, conversion, intellectual
sublimity, and spiritual ecstasy. His peers, if we consider their
impact on the thought and culture of their respective ages, are
Petrarch and Erasmus, Rousseau and Johnson, Sartre and Jung, rather
than the conventional philosophers. Like theirs, his originality is
impossible to define in terms of a single intellectual discipline.
It depends not so much on achieving advances internal to that
discipline as on articulating a profoundly compelling
orientation—what Eugenio Garin has called a forma mentis—towards
both the objective and the subjective worlds, an orientation akin to
the obviously unacademic, deeply emotional Platonism of a Piero
della Francesca, a Michelangelo, or a Spenser, though presented in
the philosophical cast and formulations of late Scholasticism.'
Specifically it derived from the thoroughgoing syncretism of pagan
and Christian elements he effected under the impulse of Plato,
Plotinus, Proclus, the Hermetica, the Areopagite, Augustine, and
Aquinas, to name only his primary wells of inspiration. But this was
allied with scholarly energy, acumen, and subtlety, an unusual
breadth and profundity of learning, an abiding interest in magic,
music, medicine, poetry, and mythology, as well as in philosophy and
theology, and a continual inwardness, contemplativeness, and
spirituality of gaze that make much of what he wrote peculiarly his
own, imaginatively and aesthetically so if not always
philosophically." In the case of the Phaedrus Commentary he
succeeded, almost single-handedly and after a series of meditations
and analyses, in fashioning the response of an entire European epoch
to the agonistic image of the Platonic charioteer.
Allen wrote his book so it will serve in a minor way to complement
Paul Oskar Kristeller's major study,
The Philosophy of Marsilio Ficino (Columbia Studies in Philosophy)
by Paul Oskar Kristeller, translated by Virginia Conant (Columbia
University Press). While this surveyed Ficino's thought and work in
its entirety, it was especially concerned with the more purely
philosophical issues of the Platonic Theology and with the theses
and argumentation of that huge and systematic masterpiece. By
contrast Allen has concentrated on a single very different work
where the preoccupations of Ficino's later years as a magus and an
exegete of the highest Platonic mysteries (as well as a
metaphysician and apologist) have come to the fore, and where a
number of peculiar interpretational problems require elucidation.
However, though his specific aim has been to deepen our
appreciation of one difficult if suggestive commentary and its
attendant motifs and themes, Allen has attempted in the process to
enhance our understanding in general of Ficino's Platonism, and of
his indebtedness to the ancient Neoplatonic commentary tradition in
which as a scholar he was so thoroughly and luminously immersed.
To do justice to these particular and larger aims, Allen has
therefore approached Ficino's eight chapters of formal commentary
from the viewpoint of certain primary themes. Thus my second chapter
deals with Ficino's chapter 4 and the poetic madness; my third
chapter with his chapters 5 and 6 and the soul's immortality; my
fourth chapter with his chapters 7, 8, and 9 and the soul's ascent;
my fifth chapter with his chapter 10 and the jovian cavalcade; and
my sixth chapter with his chapter 11 and the cosmology of the
Phaedrus. Consideration of Ficino's opening three chapters (which
had served, incidentally, as an argumentum for his Latin translation
of the dialogue) Allen has postponed until the ninth chapter, since
they embodied, he discovered, an earlier and preliminary response to
the charioteer myth, one that dated to the 1460s."
Similarly, Allen had certain`topics in mind as when he cut a swath
through the fifty-three summae which Ficino appended to his eleven
chapters and`which form an integral part of the Phaedrus Commentary
in the first and all subsequent editions." Some of the most
interesting enabled me to explore in my first chapter the
initiatory theme of Socrates' inspiration. Summae 23, 24, and 25,
long enough to be commentary chapters in their own right, impelled
me to take up in my seventh chapter some of Ficino's ideas on the
soul's descent; and summae 26 to 33 led me to examine in my eighth
chapter aspects of his philosophy of beauty and of love. Other
summae, of course, Allen could treat as if they were additions to
his chapters of commentary proper, while the more perfunctory Allen
could altogether ignore.
This strategy would surely have appealed to Iamblichus in that it
effectively credits Ficino's Commentary with an implicit design.
Starting with the setting and the numinous forces at work on
Socrates, we move to the theory of the divine madnesses; to the
nature of the soul's immortality; to its ascent to and participation
in the jovian cavalcade; to its further ascent to the very summit of
the intellectual realm; and thence to its subsequent descent,
concluding with the overriding theme of beauty. At first glance,
this might appear an overly logical arrangement for the seemingly
disparate if elaborate material Ficino assembled on the Phaedrus for
his 1496 volume. But Allen does not think it is. Not only does it do
justice to Ficino's sense of the Phaedrus's drama, the brilliant
plotting of its scenes and sequences, the entrances and exits of its
arguments and images, a drama to which his work on other dialogues
had already made him sensitive; but we also have the evidence of a
correspondingly systematic treatment of the dialogue by the ancient
Neoplatonists familiar to Ficino from his translation of Hermias
and from Proclus's Theologia Platonica." For all its incompleteness,
that is, Ficino's Commentary has a structure that reflects the
structure of the Phaedrus itself Neoplatonically conceived.
Allen kept two historical surveys until last. Thus Allen treats of
Ficino's attempts to allegorize the charioteer myth prior to his
Commentary in ninth chapter, and in tenth of the nature of his
indebtedness to various ancient commentators and to other
authorities. These chapters could have appeared as prologues rather
than as epilogues to the main study; but it seemed that an account
of Ficino's earlier attempts and likewise of his departures from his
predecessors' work could only come properly into focus after we had
fully comprehended the scope of his authoritative achievement in the
1490s.
Marsillio Ficino: The Philebus Commentary (Medieval & Renaissance
Texts & Studies) by Michael J. B. Allen (University of
California Press) The Philebus commentary has received some notice
from modern scholars. Giuseppe Saitta talks of "the extremely
beautiful commentary on the Philebus in which the superiority of
the good over the beautiful is vigorously affirmed. All beauty is
good, but not all good is beautiful: this is the Platonic concept
that Ficino is continually attempting to illustrate in his own way.
However, a common bond exists between the good and the beautiful,
and this is supplied by the appetite . . . etc." Later he talks of
the "magnificent commentary on the Philebus" in which Ficino "had
explicitly identified the universal act with the good." Paul Kristeller has frequently referred to it and Michele Schiavone has
used it as a whipping boy while devoting careful attention to
certain theses. It would be interesting to speculate on the
influence the commentary has had in subsequent centuries; but, as
Saitta says, Ficino was often robbed but rarely acknowledged." Much
more work has to be done on specific ideas and theories in Ficino
and Renaissance philosophy in general before anything can be said
with accuracy about the influence of a particular commentary and
this is true even of the Symposium commentary."
What we do know, however, is that the Philebus, more perhaps than
any other Platonic dialogue, including the Symposium, seems to have
dominated the early days of the Platonic revival, and it is
important we take note of its popularity if we want to understand
the genesis of Florentine Platonism. It was through the Philebus
that the newly revived interest in Plato began to broaden into what
was later to become a European movement. The commentary translated
here is our chief witness to the crucial point of transition.
Aristotle's Ethics had long been the classical source for ethical
studies. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries we find not only
the great editions and translations of Grosseteste, William of
Moerbeke and Gerard of Cremona but also the extended commentaries of
such eminent scholastics as St. Albertus Magnus, Giles of Rome, St.
Thomas Aquinas and many others. But in the fifteenth century, after
Bruni's new, controversial translation and Argyropoulos' lectures
too had again stimulated interest in the Ethics, the commentaries
began to shift their emphasis. In Eugenio Garin's words: "They .. .
ceased to interpret this work in the narrow terms of social and
political problems and of man seen as a political animal. They
interpreted the Nicomachean Ethics as a final exaltation of the
contemplative and separated intellect." There is much resulting
controversy over the nature of the separation and the relationship
between the soul's natural and supernatural powers, and the book
becomes a touchstone in the battle with Latin
Averroism. Many eminent thinkers were, therefore, involved in
restating and reassessing the Ethics' arguments throughout the
period, including Bruni, Donato Acciaiuoli, Ermolao Barbaro,
Filelfo, Lefèvre D'Etaples, and Philip Melanchthon. But, since the
principal Aristotelians were primarily interested in their master's
ethical writings,'" their opponents were forced to become familiar
with them too. Ficino himself had studied under a dedicated
Aristotelian (Nicolò Tignosi, who had taught theoretical medicine
and natural philosophy at the Studio in Florence) and he knew his
Aristotle well, valuing him in particular for his work in logic and
physics." In the May of 1455 he had copied out Bruni's translation
of the Ethics and written his own notes in the margin; and,
according to Eugenio Garin, his notes are even to be found in a copy
of the first edition of Acciaiuoli's commentary on the Ethics
(which was based on Argyropoulos' earlier lectures).
When Ficino started to write on the Philebus, he aimed to do three
things: first, to counter the naturalist and activist ethics that
had stemmed from the Ethics' commentators with new arguments drawn
from Plato's counterpart to the Ethics; second, to reconcile and
synthesize the two masters like the Neoplatonists before him. The
first meant proving Aristotle had been betrayed by his commentators,
the Alexandrists and Averroists; the second that he and Plato were
not in real conflict, but concerned, rather, with different levels
of moral experience (hence the Philebus was to subsume not supersede
the Ethics—the appearance of the theory of the mean in both works
was merely the most obvious instance of what Ficino saw as the
absence of any "real conflict"). Third, apart from the two ethical
aims there was a metaphysical aim. Ficino's own city had seen a
prolonged controversy, in which the Ethics had played a central
role, between the Aristotelians and the Platonists on the subject
of Plato's Ideas. The Philebus lectures were Ficino's own initial
contribution to the controversy, so he obviously felt the dialogue
was specially suited to combat Aristotle's attack on Plato's
metaphysics.
It is significant Ficino initially chose the Philebus in his own
attempt to defeat the more militant Aristotelians and to make
Florence into a Platonic city. He obviously felt it ideally adapted
to the general defense of the Ideas and their ultimate reality. To
us this is ironic, since the only reference to the Ideas in the
Philebus is at 15A-B where Plato seems to be referring directly to
problems enumerated in the Parmenides, a dialogue which A.E. Taylor
says is "clearly presupposed" by the Philebus." Instead of the Ideas
Plato is concerned with the four classes and with conceptual forms
and unities alone. Consequently, scholars dealing with the unity of
Plato's thought have found it difficult to reconcile the Ideas with
the classes," and it is interesting Ficino simply avoids the problem
of reconciling the two.
Apart from such external considerations, the Ethics' Platonic
predecessor clearly had an intrinsic fascination for Ficino just as
it did for the ancient Neoplatonists, Proclus and Damascius, who
commented on it.' Modern scholars have been somewhat more hesitant
or tentative in assessing the Philebus. Benjamin Jowett adverted to
its "degree of confusion and incompleteness in the general design .
. . [in which] the multiplication of ideas seems to interfere with
the power of expression," while at the same time he admitted it
"contains, perhaps, more metaphysical truth more obscurely
expressed than any other Platonic dialogue." R.G. Bury thought it
indisputable it was "jagged and distorted in composition," though
"beneath the difficulties of expression and the peculiarity of form"
he found "a sound core of true Platonic thought." J. Gould talks of
its "fundamental tension between two opposed concepts, those of
purity and mixture" in which Plato was fighting against his "sense
of reality," in turn accepting and fleeing from the "inextricable
and everpresent mixture of opposites" in human life. The result in
Gould's view is eccentricity of form and structure, a concern with
the concrete rather than the abstract and an "aggressive allegiance"
to a contemplative ideal which Plato knows is impractical." However,
others have recently demurred. R. Hackforth says "the formlessness
of the work has been often exaggerated," and the more he has studied
it "the clearer has its structure become, and the more
understandable its transitions, digressions, and postponements. "75
Auguste Dies talks at first simply of "a singularity of
construction" and the "scholastic character of the discussion," and
he divides the Philebus into three parts: 11A-23B where it is
proposed that the good life consists neither in pleasure or wisdom
alone but in a mixture of the two (this part is Ficino's first
book); 23C-59C where it is proposed that intelligence predominates
in the mixture; 59D-end where Plato establishes the hierarchy of
goods. Part two, however, contains long sections on the types of
pleasure and wisdom, the section on the types of pleasure (31A-55C)
constituting more than half the dialogue. Dies calls these two
sections a "mass in the interior of the dialogue" and the analysis
of pleasure "a block" inside the mass." Close consideration leads
Dies eventually to talk of the "perfect logical continuity of
development" in the Philebus, of its "abundance," of its "freedom"
and "variety."
Ficino was obviously drawn to the dialogue in part because of the
extensive pleasure "block"; although, ironically, his commentary
stops just before the block begins. He was well into the digression
on the divisions of reality (23C-27C) and the chapter summaries he
affixed to the first edition indicate he was intending to deal at
length with true and false pleasures, with pleasure and pain, with
the pleasures in rest and in motion, etc. However, as we have seen,
Ficino believed the true theme of the discussion was not pleasure
but "man's highest good" and he says all the arguments in the
dialogue are introduced for the good's sake (p. 127). Accordingly,
the dialogue has a twelve part structure, designed with the express
intention of making it particularly clear what man's highest good
is. We only need examine chapter nine to discover how Ficino thought
of the structure: a simple ascent to the highest good effected by
contrast and comparison. Patently, Ficino had a coherent theory
about the transitions and digressions in the Philebus and was
convinced of the dialogue's essential unity of purpose. The fact he
felt it needed such extensive commentary suggests, however, he was
well aware of its difficulties for the ordinary reader.
What would have presented itself to Ficino as a thematic question
tends to be complicated for us by other considerations. Although he
was not completely oblivious to chronological problems (he was
convinced for instance that the Phaedrus was Plato's first
dialogue), he did not concern himself with the modern concept of an
evolving or changing Plato. Consequently, he was not cognizant of
the fact the Philebus is a middle or late dialogue in which Plato,
if not actually abandoning, is moving away from his earlier concern
with the Ideas and ethical intellectualism towards a new interest in
logical, taxonomical and even psychological problems." Rather,
Ficino, like the ancient Neoplatonists, assumed the unity not only
of Plato's thought, but of the whole Platonic tradition; and his
life's work was to make the whole unified tradition available in
translation and in commentary—hence his work on the Areopagite, on
Plotinus, on Iamblichus, on the Pimander, on the Orphic Hymns, on
the Symbola of Pythagoras, etc. The Platonic tradition, and again
this is a Neoplatonic assumption, not only embraced Plato and his
successors but also those enigmatic figures who were thought to
precede Plato: Philolaus, Pythagoras, Aglaophemus, Orpheus, Hermes
Trismegistus and Zoroaster. These collectively Ficino referred to as
the prisci theologi, the ancient theologians,' the interpreters of a
perennial wisdom stretching back long before Plato.
Such an approach does away with the need to decide on the authorship
of particular concepts or to differentiate the peculiarities of
individual dialogues (hence the ease with which apocryphal works
were accepted as part of the canon). So, wherever possible, Ficino
attempted to syncretize and reconcile the positions adopted in
Plato's various works. In examining the Philebus commentary, one is
gradually made aware of the other dialogues which were constantly in
the forefront of Ficino's mind, dictating the structure of his
proofs and providing further authentication for his conclusions.
They were drawn in the main from Plato's middle and late
periods—they are notably the Sophist, the Timaeus, the Parmenides,
the Republic, the Laws and the Phaedrus—and they constituted for
Ficino a unified body of metaphysical "doctrine," a word he himself
used." Hence the wholly philosophical nature of the Philebus
commentary. As Roberto Weiss observes, Ficino was not a philologist
or a grammarian; he was untouched by the philological zeal of
humanists like Valla and Politian, and was concerned solely with
exposition, not with textual problems" —which was as well perhaps
considering the notorious difficulties the Philebus presents to the
textual scholar.
In elucidating the "secret" Platonism he assumed Socrates imparting
mparting to the assembled adolescents, Ficino was quick to perceive
the local dramatic ironies, and he took an obvious delight in
imagining the personal aspects of the crossfire between Socrates,
Protarchus and Philebus. But he was not oriented towards the modern
concern with the ambiguities created by the dialogues' dramatic
structure. Because he believed in their collective wisdom and the
power of allegoresis to "explain" intractable or figurative
passages, he refused to acknowledge the exploratory or interrogatory
nature of many of the propositions. Hence his anticipation of
Plato's conclusions in the Philebus: the idea, for example, that
there is a tertium quid is indeed mentioned briefly at the beginning
(11D-12A); but it is essentially something Plato arrives at in the
course of the argument. Ficino, however, used it throughout his
commentary as an established principle. For him the Philebus was
obviously a normative work, concerned with Plato's unchanging
conception of the unitary good; and he must have felt, therefore, it
was an ideal text for educating his peers into the true secrets of
philosophy, as well as for combating the Aristotelians.
Initially the commentary confronts us as a medieval work. Kristeller
says of Ficino, "the strongly medieval, scholastic character which
we notice in his works . . . consists not so much in specific
philosophical ideas, but rather in the terminology and in the
general method of arguing." But he goes on to say this scholastic
element "was not due to an extensive reading of the scholastic
authors of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, but rather to the
training which Ficino must have had in the current Aristotelianism
of the schools as a student in the University of Florence.”
Kristeller maintains Ficino did not have any extensive firsthand
knowledge of the medieval philosophers with the notable exception of
Aquinas, but was able "to build his Platonism on the method and
terminology of late medieval Aristotelianism. The result is
daunting: the reader is confronted with chains of syllogistic
reasoning which have the appearance of being tightly organized and
utterly logical. But the logic frequently begs the very questions it
is attempting to answer; in this it is reminiscent of much medieval
philosophy, the texture of which more nearly resembles a row of
mental walnuts than it does a series of Euclidean proofs.
The commentary is eclectic in its approach. This is typical not only
of the Renaissance but of most medieval philosophy and, indeed, of
patristic and Neoplatonic thinking." Ficino was not trying to be
original; he was trying to synthesize, as Charles Trinkaus has
recently reemphasized." Besides the many quotations and references
to other Platonic dialogues in the commentary, there are references
to other ancient authors, real and fictive, and to a few medieval
ones; but Ficino rarely cites the specific works he is referring to.
In addition to the acknowledged references, there are some which
are unacknowledged. Most notable are the extensive borrowings from
Aquinas in several of the chapters, which are in paraphrasis rather
than direct quotation. Marcel suggests in his new edition of the
Platonic Theology that Ficino habitually reduced his quotations to
the essential meaning and adapted them to his own context. Perhaps
Ficino assumed some of his allusions were too familiar to need
acknowledgment, but at times it seems as if he were deliberately
concealing his authorities. Marcel observes: "It is almost as if he
wanted to appropriate their thinking or [wanted] to constrain his
readers to admit principles or arguments which they would have
refused to examine on principle [a priori] if they had known the
source." Ficino often groups his references by school and these
group references are frequently taken en masse from later
authorities: the list of ancient physicists and moralists, for
example, he could have derived from Diogenes Laertius or Aristotle
or Cicero or Augustine or Lactantius or Aquinas or from half a dozen
medieval or contemporary sources.
Synopsis of the Commentary
(The numbers in parentheses refer to the pagination of the Basle
1576 edition of the Opera Omnia.)
BOOK I.
Chapter 1, p. 73 (1207): The need to establish an end for life.
Everything acts for some end including the body, the reason, the
intelligence; this proves there is a universal end cause.
Chapter 2, p. 81 (1208): Various proofs arguing for the necessity
of an ultimate end and the impossibility of an infinite series. The
I end for the natural appetite, and the ends of execution and
intention.
Chapter 3, p. 87 (1209): Various proofs establishing that the
ultimate end has to be the good.
Chapter 4, p. 89 (1209): What the good is. The necessity for cosmic
unity. The primacy of the one over multiplicity and over being.
Above bodies is the soul; above souls is the intelligence; above
intelligences is the one itself. Various proofs for this drawn from
motion. The identity of the one and the good.
Chapter 5, p. 103 (1211): The reasons why everything seeks for the
one and the good. The primacy of the good over being. The
relationship of the good and the beautiful and the analogy with
light.
Chapter 6, p. 111 (1213): The need to refer man's good to the
absolute good. The other unsatisfactory ethical systems. The good is
best apprehended and enjoyed by the intelligence.
Chapter 7, p. 115 (1213): Ficino returns to the text of the
Philebus and, in the process of defining different sorts of wisdom
and pleasure, he explains why Plato had chosen to compare these two
terms.
Chapter 8, p. 121 (1214): The different sorts of good things. The
contribution of wisdom to felicity. The two sorts of knowledge: the
morning and evening knowledge. The distinctions that must be made
between what leads to happiness, happiness itself and God. The
relationship of all three to wisdom.
Chapter 9, p. 127 (1215): The real subject of the dialogue is man's
highest good; other suggestions are dismissed. The dialogue's twelve
part structure.
Chapter 10, p. 131 (1216): Socrates proposes initially that he and
Protarchus should each champion wisdom and pleasure respectively,
but be prepared to abandon their positions should some third
alternative appear. Socrates refuses to accept that Venus can be
identified with pleasure.
Chapter 11, p. 135 (1216): The divine names. The iconology of
Uranus, Saturn, Jupiter and the two Venuses. The reason why divine
names ought to be venerated. The power and origin of divine names.
Chapter 12, p. 143 (1217): The power inherent in the divine name and
its various forms.
Chapter 13, p. 145 (1218): The importance of the species as opposed
to the genus or the individual. The method for establishing a
definition. The genus of pleasure. Socrates refutes Protarchus'
argument that all pleasures must be alike because they are
pleasurable, and maintains that some of Protarchus' pleasures are
actually opposed to each other.`Socrates differentiates between
being good and being pleasurable. The good does not embrace
opposites.
Chapter 14, p. 157 (1220): Socrates again emphasizes the difference
between the genus and the species and warns us against verbal
sophistry. The two protagonists agree there are dissimilar pleasures
and dissimilar types of knowledge. Ficino warns us against
self-deception.
Chapter 15, p. 165 (1221): The nature of the intelligence. The
nature`of truth and the theory that knowledge consists of the
correspondence between the thing and the intelligence. The
correspondence takes place in the human intelligence and in the
I divine intelligence. The light of truth that comes from the good.
The one and the many and the psychology of perception.
Chapter 16, p. 171 (1222): The nature of the relationship between
the one and the many and the paradoxes it originates. Three ways the
one can be many. The Platonic Idea really exists and exists prior to
and more absolutely than the sensible object.
Chapter 17, p. 177 (1223): Three problems raised by the Ideas: one,
whether they are merely mental concepts; two, if they actually
exist, whether they are unitary and immutable; three, if they are
unitary and immutable, how do they impart themselves to things which
are many and mutable. Why the species are called unities or Ideas.
The pagan and Christian writers who have testified to their
existence.
Chapter 18, p. 181 (1223): The existence of the Ideas in God's
intelligence. The testimony of Augustine, Averroes and others. The
contingent nature of the world and its dependence on the incorporeal
species. Arguments from change, operation, movement, etc., to prove
the existence of a higher cause which is self-sufficient,
self-activating and contains all the Ideas.
Chapter 19, p. 191 (1225): More arguments to prove the reality of
the Ideas and the unreality of bodily objects. To some extent the
soul possesses the true species; but above the soul is the first
intelligence which contains the first and truest species. These
species are identified with the intelligence itself.
Chapter 20, p. 199 (1226): More arguments drawn from reproduction,
etc., to prove the reality of the Ideas. The world is contained in
the first intelligence.
Chapter 21, p. 205 (1227): The argument from the world's design is
taken to prove the existence of the prime intelligence and to prove
that it contains the Ideas. The coincidence of the intelligence and
its Ideas. The eternal contemplation of the Ideas is independent of
the intelligence's need actually to create them.
Chapter 22, p. 209 (1227): More proofs for the existence of the
Ideas drawn from the fact of corruption, etc. The shadowy existence
of everyday things. The need to believe in the Ideas, even if we do
not understand exactly how things participate in them.
Chapter 23, p. 215 (1228): To establish truth, dialectic is
necessary because of its concern with the species. Ficino returns
to the Philebus and inveighs against obstinacy in debating. The
three cautions that must be observed with regard to dialectic: one,
adolescents should not be allowed to use it; two, those who do use
it must guard against the illusions which derive from the senses and
the phantasy, and proceed via the intelligence; three, you must not
go from one extreme to another without going through the
intermediary points. The distinction between logic and dialectic.
Dialectic is the instrument of philosophy par excellence. In the
processes of uniting and dividing upwards and downwards, dialectic
is constantly concerned with the one and the many. By using the one
and the many, dialectic resolves, defines and demonstrates.
Chapter 24, p. 225 (1230): The relationship between definition and
demonstration and the process of reasoning syllogistically. On
resolving, dividing and compounding.
Chapter 25, p. 231 (1230): Socrates again inveighs against
adolescents, sophists and Cyrenaics, and their ethical relativism
and scepticism (i.e., the first caution). Ficino returns to the
Philebus. Altercation between Protarchus and Socrates. Socrates
insists on the crucial importance of dialectic.
Chapter 26, p. 239 (1231): The illumination theory. The three
angelic motions. The triple intelligence as personified in Saturn,
Jupiter and Prometheus. The triple powers of the soul. The
Epimetheus/Prometheus parable. The iconology of Minerva, Vulcan and
Mercury and their various gifts. The Uranus, Saturn, Jupiter triad
and what they symbolize. Prometheus' gift of fire symbolizes the
illumination that comes from God; so dialectic must be practised by
the intelligence (i.e., the second caution).
Chapter 27, p. 249 (1233): The three arguments transmitted by the
ancient theologians: one, everything subsequent to the one is
compounded from the one and the many; two, the species are finite,
but individuals are infinite; three, mediation is necessary to pass
from one extreme to another. Various supporting proofs. On emanation
from the one to the finite many to the infinite many. On the types
of division (i.e., the third caution).
Chapter 28, p. 261 (1234): Dialectic and the enemy discipline (which
proceeds too quickly or too slowly from the one to the many).
Various instances of the enemy discipline furnished from the
ancients who ignored the importance of the intermediary stage
between the one and the many — a stage involving the species.
Ficino introduces the examples of music and dancing to illustrate
the importance of the species in effecting the transition from the
one to the many.
Chapter 29, p. 271 (1236): Grammar is used as an example of going
from the many to the one. The history of letters and their
introduction by Hermes Trismegistus. The need to draw things out of
the one into the infinite many via the finite many which exist
between them; and the reverse. Protarchus urges Socrates to proceed
at once to instruct them all in dialectic.
Chapter 30, p. 283 (1238): The need to define the good and the
positive and negative ways to do this. The negative way is to say
that neither pleasure nor wisdom is the good itself. The good is
above being and above the intelligence. It is the absolute act. The
god of love is the divinity inspiring Socrates when he talks about
the good. The relationship between love, beauty and the good, where
the good is prime. Various proofs establishing that the good is
sufficient, perfect and desirable.
Chapter 31, p. 299 (1240): The two acts: form and operation. The
identity of the good and act. Act consists in unity. The good is
compared to the sun. God as the good is all acts and all
potentialities. The reflection of the one in everything is what
unites everything. The emanation from the one and conversion to the
one. The participation of the intelligence, the soul`and matter in
unity and goodness. The one is present in everything. The
creativeness of the one and the resulting beauty. The good is prior
to the beautiful and desired by the natural appetite. The difference
between rational and irrational pursuit of the good.
Chapter 32, p. 315 (1242): In order to prove that neither is the
good Socrates divides wisdom from pleasure, by dividing all mental
activity whatsoever from it. The jelly-fish is a model for the life
of pure sensation devoid of mental activity. The reason why such
"deprived" organisms exist in nature. The great chain-of-being.
Pleasure is insufficient in itself; likewise wisdom. The psychology
of perception involves both wisdom and pleasure. In the case of both
physical and mental events total act is pleasure. There are two
sorts of pleasure: that in knowing and that which is the assent of
the appetite. The mixture of the two makes for sufficiency in human
and indeed all animate life. The life that does not have this
mixture is chosen through ignorance or coercion.
Chapter 33, p. 333 (1245): Socrates differentiates between the prime
intelligence (which is unitary and unites pleasure and wisdom in
itself) and the human intelligence. The prime intelligence is not
the good itself, but next to and inferior to it. After the prime
intelligence are the derivative intelligences; and next to them is
the soul which becomes its intelligence when purified from all other
associations. The soul's happiness consists of wisdom and pleasure.
The morning and evening visions of the good. Socrates prepares to
define the good positively having already defined it negatively:
this consists in finding out whether wisdom or pleasure is nearer to
the good (since it has already been established that neither is the
good itself). He intends to maintain that wisdom is nearer to the
good. The hierarchy of goods with pleasure at the bottom. The
company agrees that neither wisdom nor pleasure is the good.
Socrates procrastinates in order to make the group docile. He must
now define wisdom and pleasure and proceed very cautiously.
Chapter 34, p. 347 (1247): The need for there to be one end. Man's
end must be one and compounded from wisdom and pleasure. Wisdom and
pleasure are made one by the one which is above. We apprehend the
highest good by the unity in ourselves, which is like the
charioteer in the Phaedrus who has two horses: the intellect and the
will. The unity in ourselves converts these two into the one. So
there are three happinesses: the human happiness when the charioteer
controls the horses and directs them towards the heavens; the divine
happiness when the soul becomes its intelligence; the happiness when
we are made one by the one and so become one with God, that is,
become gods.
Chapter 35, p. 355 (1248): To obtain the right mixture of wisdom
and pleasure you must have truth, proportion and beauty.
Chapter 36, p. 359 (1249): The highest good is the measure that
gives truth, the moderator that gives proportion, the suitable that
gives beauty. Various ways in which God is the measure, the
moderator and the suitable. As the one He is all three. Things which
share in Him share in all three. The one and the unity the one
bestows are both acts. Therefore the highest good is the one act of
the mixed life. This act occurs when the intelligence and the will
have been directed to the one through wisdom and pleasure (when
these in turn have been joined in accordance with three attributes
deriving from the power of the one, namely, truth, proportion and
beauty). The one act of the one soul, which is from the one, for the
one and in the one, is man's highest good.
Chapter 37, p. 369 (1250): The subordination of the will to the
intellect and their respective relationships to things. Various
proofs to establish the primacy of the intellect. The`ultimate end
concerns the intellect more than the will. The need for something
to be the first intelligible object. Pleasure's nature and use. God
is our end: our understanding reaches Him first and our will follows
the understanding. Ficino admits he has argued that the opposite is
true in an epistle on happiness. Perhaps the best solution is to
consider the will as part of the intellect rather than a separate
faculty, and pleasure as something in the intellect. Ficino
concludes man's end is one. Thus he claims to have resolved the
doubts raised by his great friend, Michael from S. Miniato, who had
wondered why Plato posited a mixed end for man.
BOOK II.
Chapter 1, p. 385 (1253): Socrates introduces two concepts, the
limit and the infinite, and attributes wisdom and pleasure to them
respectively. There are two sorts of infinity: the first excludes
the limit, the second is in need of the limit. The first is the
infinite limit of everything and is God, the second needs to be
limited by something else. The Philebus is concerned with God as
things' limit, not as the infinite. In the Philebus, therefore, the
infinite means matter. As the infinite, God transcends creation; but
as the limit, He embraces it. The hierarchy which proceeds from
nothingness to matter to form and is the result of varying degrees
of participation in the limit and the infinite. On the nature of
potentiality. The passive potentiality characteristic of matter
precedes all else. On the nature of matter. All things subsequent to
God are compounded from act and potentiality, being and essence. The
existence of the being whose essence is being itself. Arguments
derived from the fact that nature is subject to possibility and
limitation and made from the mixture of essence and being prove that
all contingent things are compounded from potentiality and act. On
matter as the receptacle of all the forms.
Chapter 2, p. 403 (1255): The hierarchy among the principles of
being is headed by the one. The general character of an entity
incorporates the idea of being; so, apart from being, there are five
other elements: essence, rest, motion, identity and difference.
There are also the two principles of the limit and the infinite.
Depending on our approach, the full hierarchy can therefore consist
of six, seven or nine members.
Chapter 3, p. 409 (1256): Six elements derive from the limit and the
infinite. These six are equally divided between the limit and the
infinite, since each is universally present in the intelligence, the
soul, bodies, quantity and quality. Their presence creates a
hierarchy that descends towards the infinite.
Chapter 4, p. 415 (1257): How the limit and the infinite are
disposed under God. The distinctions between creating, forming and
generating. What is mixed from the limit and the infinite. The
fourth principle, namely the cause of the mixture, is above the
universe. The possibility that a fifth principle exists, namely the
cause that subsumes all mixture, is not denied but put aside by
Socrates. On the sublimity of God, i.e., His transcendence, and on
His countenance, i.e., His immanent presence. The hierarchy
existing among the principles and the right way to deal with it. The
need to examine the limit and the infinite first.
UNATTACHED CHAPTERS
p. 425 (1259): In the height of the understanding pleasure and
understanding are identical. The usual differences between them.
II, p. 427 (1259): The good is the end. The reasons why pleasure and
wisdom are not the end. The uses of pleasure.
III, p. 431 (1259): The relationship between the one, the many, the
limit, the infinite, and their compounds, that is, rest, motion,
identity and difference.
IV, p. 433 (1260): The art of dialectic, which is concerned with
uniting and dividing. The nature of dialectic and its transmission.
Its preoccupation with the species. The various steps in the
dialectical method.
Nuptial Arithmetic: Marsilio Ficino's Commentary on the Fatal Number
in Book VIII of Plato's Republic by Michael J. B. Allen
(University of California Press) a distinguished study of the
leading Renaissance Neoplatonist, Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499),
presents for the first time a difficult and fascinating text. Very
late in his career Ficino wrote a commentary on the mathematical
passage in Book VIII of Plato's Republic that concerns, the
mysterious geometric or "fatal" number. Since antiquity no one had
interpreted this famous enigma; in doing so, Ficino addressed a
variety of wide-ranging philosophical, psychological, numerological,
astrological, and prophetic themes that are central to our
understanding of his thought and of the mentalité of his age.
In the first part of Nuptial Arithmetic, Allen introduces the
Florentine's commentary and explores its context, sources, and
difficulties, especially its debts to Plato's Timaeus and to Theon
of Smyrna. He then analyzes
Ficino's Pythagorean approach to figured numbers and 'their
progressions and Ficino's determination of the fatal and the nuptial
numbers. Allen next turns to Ficino's arresting speculations on
eugenics, man's habitus, man's spirit, and the daemons, and to the
roles Ficino assigns to astrology and prophecy, to Jupiter and to
Saturn, in the instauration of a golden age. The second part of the
book provides a critical edition and translation of the commentary,
with accompanying notes. Nuptial Arithmetic is a welcome
presentation of this rich and interesting text by one of the most
influential luminaries of the European Renaissance.
This book is concerned with a treatise written late in the career of
Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499), the influential philosopher-magus of
Medicean Florence and the presiding genius of Renaissance
Neoplatonism. The treatise is an arcane and hitherto unexplored
commentary focusing on a notoriously intractable mathematical
passage in the eighth book of Plato's Republic.
The first part deals in general with the commentary's features,
themes, and difficulties, and in particular with its composition,
sources, and context; with Ficino's analyses of the role in Plato of
figured numbers including fatal numbers; with his treatment of the
interwoven motifs of eugenics, the habitus, the spirit, and the
daemons; and with the ambivalent roles he assigns to astrology in
the instauration of a golden age under a Jupiter reunited with his
father, Saturn.
For historians of the transmission and interpretation of classical
texts, the evidence marshaled here should be persuasive enough to
ensure the recognition for the first time of Ficino's rightful
place at the head of the long line of modern exegetes of the
Platonic passage. For students of Ficino and of Quattrocento
cultural and intellectual history, however, the last two chapters
particularly cast fresh light on a number of challenging
philosophical and mythological issues, and suggest some elusive
linkages between Ficino's reaction to Plato's political dialogue and
his premonitory sense of an imminent star-governed change in the
destiny of Florence, a city already in the grip of the tumultuous
millenarian passions of the 1490s.
The second part presents the first critical edition and translation
of the De Numero Fatali and its related texts, with accompanying
notes.
Allen embarked on this study in the anticipation that he could
sharpen his appreciation of one of the age's seminal thinkers by
grinding and polishing the lens of a new and fascinating text. Allen
was also convinced that further progress in our understanding of
Ficino's manifold contributions to Renaissance thought will depend
on scholars embarking on similarly detailed analyses of a number of
his other treatises, many of which have been barely skimmed in
modern times, and then only by a handful of Ficinians in search of a
particular reference or a complementary argument.
Icastes: Marsilio Ficino's Interpretation of Plato's Sophist, Five
studies, with a critical edition and translation by Michael J.
B. Allen (University of California Press) Allen’s latest studies of
the profoundly influential Florentine thinker of the fifteenth
century, Marcio Ficino, should be welcomed by philosophers, literary
scholars, and historians of the Renaissance, as well as by
classicists. Ficino was responsible for inaugurating, shaping, and
disseminating the wide-ranging philosophico-cultural movement known
as Renaissance Platonism, and his views on the Sophist, which he saw
as Plato's preeminent ontological dialogue, are of signal interest.
This dialogue also served Ficino as a vehicle exploring a number of
other humanist, philosophical, and magical reoccupations, including
the theme of the human as artist and creator and of the soul's
ascent to the divine by way of magic, music, philosophy, and love.
Along with other Plato commentaries, Ficino’s unfinished Sophist
Commentary was first published in Florence in 1496 in a volume
entitled Commentaria in Platonem. It is the best guide, as we might
predict, to his interpretation of the Sophist, one of Plato's most
difficult dialogues but, according to a distinguished modern
interpreter, an "unusually constructive" one.' However, it is also a
vital source, though hitherto neglected, for a full understanding
of Ficino's ontology, demonology, and magic, and of his theories of
art, imitation, and the imagination. As such, it offers us an
intriguing perspective on the Florentine's profound and enduring
impact on Renaissance thought and culture.
This book is an attempt to explore Ficino's views on the Sophist and
to assess his Sophist Commentary as an independent treatise. The
ancillary second part presents a critical edition and a translation
of the text, based on the editio princeps of 1496. The first part,
consisting of five studies, explores major topics that the dialogue
raised for Ficino and tries to unravel his complicated responses to
them.
Allen begins with Ficino's perspective on the dialogue and its
position in the Platonic canon, and with the unexpectedly pivotal
role it played in an interesting controversy in the 1490s with Pico
della Mirandola, the other philosophical star in the Medicean circle
who is traditionally regarded as Ficino's complatonicus. This
controversy concerned the all-important question of the primacy of
the One over Being, the metaphysical issue that lay at the heart of
the centuries-old quarrel between the Neoplatonists, the
standard-bearers of Platonism, and the radical Aristotelians, a
quarrel which Pico entered, to Ficino's regret and surprise, on the
Aristotelian side, albeit with the irenic aim of reconciling Plato
with Aristotle.
Allen’s second study examines Ficino's encounter with the greatest
interpreter of the Sophist in antiquity, the third-century
Alexandrian-Roman founder of Neoplatonism, Plotinus, whose Enneads
he translated and commented on throughout the 1480s, having been
urged to do so by the exhortations of Pico himself. Plotinus he
regarded as another Plato and on occasions as more profound, if that
were possible, than his master, even admiring the density and
difficulty of Plotinus's style. For Plotinus the Sophist was Plato's
masterpiece of ontology and second only, in its strictly
metaphysical insights, to the Parmenides. Ficino was deeply
committed to Plotinus's vision of being and embraced it in large
part as his own, though his Christian faith compelled him to make
some signal modifications, many of which we can see adumbrated in
the various chapters of his Commentary. Had he completed this, it
would have necessarily been the most developed expression of his
ontology; even in its skeletal form, it is a revealing treatise.
Another more elusive and more speculative debt is the subject of
third study. This is devoted to the Neoplatonists who succeeded
Plotinus, and notably to Iamblichus and Proclus, thinkers who
shared his ontological preoccupations with the dialogue but who
turned their attention also to other questions in their attempt to
define its major theme and to understand its composite structure. My
primary concern here is with the scholion that Ficino found
accompanying the Greek text of the dialogue in the manuscripts he
consulted and that he attributed to Proclus. The scholion provided
him, ironically, with a very un-Plotinian perspective, redefining
the role and nature of the sophist in terms of the arcane and
intricate motif of the sub-lunar demiurge.
The fourth study turns to a theme which literary scholars
particularly associate with the Sophist: Plato's involved
discussion of icastic and phantastic art and their mutual
relationship. Directly or indirectly this discussion made an impact
I on a number of Renaissance theorists of art, particularly later in
the sixteenth century, and Mazzoni and Sidney are only the most
obvious figures that spring to mind. Ficino's understanding of this
theme is best revealed in certain key passages from his Platonic
Theology, his magnum opus written in 1469-1474 but first published
in 1482 in Florence. There we see him also addressing the cognate
issues of the hierarchy of the arts and skills, the relationship of
the artist to the Creator and to Nature, and the relationship of
objects to images, human and divine.
The question of images also preoccupies Allen’s fifth study, which
focusses on a long and remarkable analysis at the end of Ficino's
Sophist Commentary. There Ficino examines what he sees as the
implications of Plato's knotty passage at 266B ff. on eidôla, which,
like objects themselves, are the creation of "a wonderful skill" or
"divine contrivance," a phrase which Ficino renders more literally
as "the skill of the demons." The implications of this
interpretation, particularly for an understanding of the Ficinian
view of the imagination, take us far from the world of modern Plato
scholarship into one reflecting characteristically Renaissance
attitudes and themes and predicated on the assumption that Plato was
also a theorist of magic and demonology, two areas of inquiry which
Ficino predictably regarded as intrinsic to, and legitimately part
of, Platonic philosophy. It enables us to glimpse a very different Ficino from the thinker whose primary allegiance was to Plotinus's
austere ontological preoccupations.
Treating as they do of ontology, of the figure of the sophist in its
manifold senses, of man as icastes and phantastes, of the phantastic
art of the demons, and of the demons' rule over the imagination, my
five studies cover the principal sources of Ficino's attraction to
the Sophist. They also present us with a largely unfamiliar,
essentially Neoplatonic interpretation that is at the same time
peculiarly Ficinian. Deeply indebted to the ancient commentators, it
is nevertheless the product of the Florentine Quattrocento and
articulates some of the special features of its Platonism. In this
independent relationship to the past, the Ficinian Sophist
replicates the situation that obtains, as I have suggested
elsewhere, with the Ficinian Philebus, Phaedrus, Parmenides, and
Timaeus, and, it is generally acknowledged, with the Ficinian
Symposium.' In interpreting all six dialogues Ficino turned at
various times to Plotinus and to the later Platonici principally to
seek support for, or elaboration of, his own views, which were
nicely sensitive to the difficulties the Platonici presented for a
Christian apologist. The Renaissance Sophist was not entirely
Ficino's, as the dramatic case of Pico will demonstrate, but he put
his stamp indelibly upon it. The full-scale, detailed commentary he
had first intended was never written; but the substance of his
interpretation, together with its unexpected extensions, emerges
quite clearly from the materials he mustered for the 1496 volume and
from earlier, cognate passages in his Platonic Theology to enhance
our understanding of his philosophy and of its extraordinary impact
on the intellectual and cultural life of an entire epoch.
Ficino's interpretation thus constitutes a signal moment in the
historical fortune of a dialogue that scholars have generally
regarded in the past as a rewarding but technical treatise lacking
the irony, the drama, and the imaginative inventiveness of such
literary masterpieces in the Platonic canon as the Symposium, the
Protagoras, and the Apology.' For the Ficinian Sophist emerges from
this study as itself a luminous and sublime work in that canon and
as one of the repositories of Plato's deepest theological
mysteries. As such, Allen believes we should henceforth set it
beside other major dialogues that Ficino reinterpreted as a
revealing guide to some of the salient characteristics of
Renaissance Platonism and to its complex, creative relationship to
the Platonism of late antiquity from which it ultimately derived,
however alien both Platonisms might seem to our current perceptions
of what Plato himself had originally intended and achieved.
When Philosophers Rule: Ficino on Plato's Republic, Laws & Epinomis
(Commentaries by Ficino on Plato's Writing) Translation by
Arthur Farndell (Shepheard-Walwyn) Marsillio Ficino of Florence (1433-99) was one
of the most influential thinkers of the Renaissance. He put before
society a new ideal of human nature, emphasising its divine
potential. As teacher and guide to a remarkable circle of men, he
made a vital contribution to changes that were taking place in
European thought. For Ficino, the writings of Plato provided the key
to the most important knowledge for mankind, knowledge of God and
the soul. It was the absorption of this knowledge that proved so
important to Ficino, to his circle, and to later writers and
artists.
As a young man, Ficino had been directed by Cosimo de’ Medici towards the study of Plato in the original Greek. Later he formed a close connection with Cosimo’s grandson, Lorenzo de’ Medici, under whom Florence achieved its age of brilliance. Gathered round Ficino and Lorenzo were such men as Landino, Bembo, Poliziano and Pico della Mirandola. The ideas they discussed became central to the work of Spenser, Shakespeare, Donne, Botticelli, Michelangelo, Raphael, Dürer, and many other writers and artists.
Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes of this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, and political greatness and wisdom meet in one, and those commoner natures who pursue either to the exclusion of the other are compelled to stand aside, cities will never have rest from their evils, - no, nor the human race, as I believe, - and then only will this our State have a possibility of life and behold the light of day.' Republic, Book V, 473D
With these words Plato expressed his ideal form of government. Often dismissed as unrealisable, they have appealed down the ages to men of goodwill. Having translated all of the Dialogues from Greek into Latin, at the request of his Medici patrons, Ficino was asked to prepare summaries by Lorenzo de’ Medici, the de facto ruler of the republic of Florence, who aspired to be the kind of enlightened ruler Plato described.
The title of this book, When Philosophers Rule, is a reference to what is perhaps the best known quotation from Plato on good government, and in the troubled times we now live, perhaps it is wise to turn again to what that great philosopher of the West had to say.
This volume is not a translation of Plato’s
Dialogues themselves, but rather
commentaries to three of his dialogues by Marsilio Ficino, the
philosopher-priest who was head of the Platonic Academy in Florence
in the 15th century. As Kathleen Raine wrote in a review of The
letters of Marsilio Ficino in The Times,
‘All that we regard as the norm of Western European art – Botticelli’s paintings, Monteverdi’s music, Shakespeare’s philosophical lovers, Browne and Lorenzo, Jacques and Portia – has flowered from Ficino’s Florence.’
An interesting feature of these commentaries
is that they were written at the request of Lorenzo de’ Medici who
was at the time virtual ruler of the Republic of Florence and who
presided over that great flowering which is still a wonder to this
day.
Excerpt: Freedom, as the medieval English lawyer Sir John Fortescue once observed, is a thing with which the nature of man has been endowed by God. Therefore, he said, wherever it is oppressed it strives of its own energy always to return.
Living as we do in an age in which freedom seems relatively secure for many people in democratic states, it is easy to lose sight of the foundations upon which lasting freedom is built. Such foundations have long antecedents as this volume demonstrates, it being a translation of commentaries written more than five hundred years ago on works that were written over two thousand five hundred years ago. Yet Plato's Republic and Laws, and these commentaries on them, remain as relevant today as they have ever been, examining as they do the necessary conditions for a successful society which offers civil freedom under the rule of law to all its citizens.
Central to Plato's view of civil society is arete, justice or righteousness. Our own age is full of calls for justice in all social and civil spheres, but what is common to these calls is an apparent view that justice is something that is dispensed by the state, its institutions and courts of law to otherwise deprived citizens. Justice has become a commodity which purports to right wrongs and compensate victims who have nothing to do themselves but register their complaint with the appropriate authorities.
Plato's view, endorsed by Ficino, is very different. For them justice is a state of the soul over which every man and woman has personal command. It is an orderly state of the inner being which is cultivated by good practice of other virtues: wisdom, temperance and courage, which combined in one person produce that state of being that is called just. There is nothing to be gained from looking for this from some external source.
The great value of Plato's works and these commentaries on them is that they require us to look again at the basis of the freedoms we enjoy in modern democratic societies. They warn us that democratic freedoms are not attained, or maintained, without effort and that those efforts involve every citizen coming to an understanding of their own role in securing justice in the state to which they belong. It is clear from this view that the best form of government is self-government, and that such government involves the citizen in taking command of his or her own inner life, developing the personal strength to control, direct and restrain their own appetites while bringing their soul under the rule of wisdom or reason so that it becomes a thing of order and beauty reflecting the goodness of God and showing itself to be such in their conduct towards others and towards the state.
It was this idea of inner, personal government that lay behind the English common lawyers' idea of the reasonable man, the free and lawful man of the English common law. Such a person was presumed to know the law because the law was nothing else but reason, and reasonable conduct was sufficient to keep the individual within the law. This conception, which still informs the many common law jurisdictions that followed the British around the globe, is the key to the successful development of free democratic states. The lessons reflected in the pages of this volume offer a guide for modern statesmen and citizens alike.
For Plato, democracy as described by him is a dangerous and delicate form of government amounting at its worst to little more than mob rule based on the primacy of the pleasure-loving appetites in the souls of the citizens. When this becomes dominant in the majority of citizens, the very foundations of participatory forms of government are destroyed as fewer and fewer people develop in themselves the virtues necessary for the government of themselves or of states. New laws are passed on a whim to demonstrate to electorates that their governors are dealing with the latest crisis, but without any real regard to the effect of such laws on the body politic. There is an inevitable tendency for citizens to become ever more dependent on the state for the regulation of every aspect of life; regulations multiply and the people, far from becoming free citizens, become instead ever more dependent on the ever-increasing bounty of the state to provide for every aspect of life. In the end this cannot be sustained because the state has to appropriate more and more of the wealth of its citizens in order to pay for the services which the citizens demand in exchange for their votes.
Plato sees descent into tyranny as the inevitable outcome of such a state of affairs. However, he also writes: 'Until philosophers are kings, or the kings and princes amongst men have the spirit and power of philosophy, cities will have no rest from their evils, or so I believe.'
This is the opening that offers hope that the otherwise inevitable descent of democratic societies first into ungovernableness and then into tyranny can be avoided. In a democratic age, the kings and princes amongst men are the people themselves. The turning to philosophy that avoids the descent into tyranny is a revolution in personal values and an acceptance of personal responsibility. The free and lawful person acts reasonably and governs him or her self, not only because it is necessary for the good of the state and their neighbours, but also because such self-command offers greater happiness and fulfilment to the individual. Understanding this and making it a practical reality is necessary to the establishment and continuance of democratic governance based on freedom under law
When the governors of a state understand this, following Plato, they are more likely to direct their lawmaking powers to establishing and maintaining virtue in the souls of the citizens and the citizens will appreciate and applaud their efforts to do so.
This volume is the first translation into English of Ficino's Commentaries on Plato's two greatest works on this topic. The Commentaries are themselves full of additional insights which expand and elucidate Plato's thought. They provide the modern reader with a route into an art and science of government which can offer both personal development and also the peace, freedom and stability to which modern democracies aspire. Perhaps the appearance of this translation at this time is a part of that volition described by Fortescue by which the real freedom of the human condition reasserts itself from age to age.
All Things Natural: Ficino on Plato's Timaeus edited and translations by Arthur Farndell and Peter Blumsom (Commentaries by Ficino on Plato's Writing, 4th volume: Shepheard-Walwyn )
Marsilio Ficino, a leading scholar of the Italian Renaissance who translated all the works of Plato into Latin, examines Plato’s Timaeus, the most widely influential and hotly debated of the Platonic writings. Offering a probable account of the creation and nature of the cosmos, the discussion incorporates such questions as What is the function of arithmetic and geometry in the design of creation? What is the nature of mind, soul, matter, and time? and What is our place in the universe? To his main commentary Ficino adds an appendix, which amplifies and elucidates Plato’s meanings and reveals fascinating details about Ficino himself.
Arthur Farndell's translations of Marsilio Ficino's commentaries on Plato's Dialogues in Renaissance Quarterly, Carol Kaske of Cornell University wrote: 'It fills a need, since these Ficinian works have never been translated into English before. Even those Anglophone scholars who know Latin still need a translation in order to read quickly through a large body of material'.
Ficino's commentary on the Timaeus offers the English reader an opportunity to share the insights of this highly influential Renaissance philosopher into one of Plato's most important and controversial works. Here are discussed the perennial questions which affect us all: What is the nature of the universe? How did it begin? Does it have a cause outside itself? What is our place in it? What is the nature of mind, soul, matter, and time?
The central portion of the work, focusing on number, harmony, and music, has exerted a strong influence on the history of Western musical theory. Ficino adds material which amplifies and elucidates Plato's meanings and reveals fascinating details about Ficino himself.
This volume provides a rich source for all who are interested in philosophy, the history of cosmic theory, and Platonic and Renaissance studies.
Excerpt: SOUL NUMBERS
AS NUMBERS OCCUR frequently in the Commentary, it might be useful to add a short note of guidance on how they work, especially with regard to musical harmony and its attendant ratios. The easiest way to understand Ficino's use of what we might call 'soul numbers' is to see them as representing rates of frequency.
In my note to page 54 I explain that these numbers, though all correct, were wrongly attributed by the Pythagoreans to string tension rather than to the relative speed of vibrations between musical pitches. This latter fact was unknown until Marin Mersenne's discovery a century or so after Ficino's death, and though Ficino followed the Pythagoreans in this, had he known the truth he would have embraced it wholeheartedly, as the sympathetic communication of vibrating strings had always fascinated him.
The numbers that Ficino employs in the Commentary take two forms. First there are the number relationships themselves, for example sesquialteral or 3 to 2, lit. 'half again'; and then there are their musical equivalents, in this case the diapente, an interval 'through 5 notes' which is, in modern terminology, a perfect fifth. So this is the harmony that arises when two sounds vibrate at a ratio of 3 to 2 with each other — the greater the frequency, the higher the pitch of a note. As we are not assigning anything but pitch to the numbers it is immaterial whether we call it 3 to 2, or 2 to 3.
Ficino's great insight was that by linking the numbers so closely to music it was possible to lend them an added significance that we would fail to perceive in the numbers alone. For example, the double, or 2 to 1, becomes charged with meaning when we consider it to express the musical octave, for the octave is not merely the first step from unity, but in a way it is also the last. It is a fact that beyond the octave lies a mere repetition of the notes which have already occurred within the octave interval. Every musician knows this is so, and a glance at any piano keyboard, with its recurring pattern of octaves, will also verify the fact. So when the triple arises, it merely duplicates above the octave that note that is already contained within it. Therefore as numbers increase beyond the octave they are also exploring within the octave itself, which is an extraordinary fact. It was this that prompted Ptolemy, the great Greek astronomer and musician, to remark that the diapason, 'through all', was the idea of all octaves — that there is nothing beyond this first great step from one to two, which holds the inner form of the whole cosmos. The task of the harmonic numbers of the Lambda is to actuate at all levels, i.e. from point to solid, this mighty form.
Finally, it is up to individuals to discover for themselves the beauty and full implication of these numbers of the Soul.
GLOSSARY
Aliquot part — see Numerical Ratios.
Ancient Dorian Mode
This is the mode that Plato called 'the true Hellenic mode'. There has often been confusion regarding these note-names. As with the modern guitar, the lowest string on the lyre has the highest pitch; so hypate, or 'high', refers to its position on the lyre, not to its pitch. In the same way, nete, or 'low', refers to its position as the bottom string, even though it has the highest pitch. Parahypate is the note `next to hypate', and paramese the note 'next to mese'. Lichanos indicates that this string is plucked by the forefinger, and, trite is the third note from both mese and nete. Although mese is not the middle note of the eight-note scale, it adopts the central position in the full fifteen-note double octave referred to by Ficino in Chapter 30 (note to page 54).
Chromatic — A tetrachord consisting of two semitones and a minor third. (See Diatonic for more information.)
Diapason — see Musical Intervals.
Diapente — see Musical Intervals.
Diatessaron — see Musical Intervals.
Diatonic — Ficino refers to this as one of the three 'harmonies'. The harmonies are the three methods by which the ancient Greeks divided the tetrachord, a four-stepped part scale from which all the larger scales were formed. The steps of the diatonic are semitone, tone, and tone. These three methods were called the 'three genera'.
Diesis
Different, The — see Five Natures of the Soul.
Disdiapason — see Musical Intervals.
Double |/strong>— see Numerical Ratios.
Enharmonic — A tetrachord consisting of two quarter tones and a major third. (See Diatonic for more information.)
Equivox, equison — see Musical Intervals.
Essence — That which renders a thing distinct from all else. See Five Natures of the Soul.
Five Natures of the Soul — These are the five natures that every individual entity or individual soul possesses. It must have an 'essence', and this essence must be the 'same' as itself and 'different' from all others. It will possess the 'stillness' to remain itself a certain term and it will either have 'motion' in itself, or a 'motion' passed on to it from another. These natures are described in Plato's Sophist. In Timaeus only the first three are mentioned overtly, whereas stillness and motion are implied.
Four Complexions — (correlated to the humours): ruddy, thin, corpulent, sallow.
Four Dispositions — (correlated to the humours): happy and generous; ambitious; sluggish and pallid; introspective (melancholic). Four Humours — blood, phlegm, yellow bile, black bile.
Four Virtues — wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice.
Harmony — The relationship of things, numbers, and musical sounds, when brought together as a whole. It has two main conditions: concord and discord. As Harmony is ruled by Unity, there is a constant tendency to resolve discord to concord and thus bring it closer to the One.
Hypate — see Ancient Greek Dorian Mode.
Lichanos — see Ancient Greek Dorian Mode.
Limit, limitless, and a mixture (or combination) of these two are those three states that are most universal. Only the One Itself precedes them in Being. They permeate the numbers of the Lambda. Plato's Philebus is the main source for Ficino when he discusses these. (See Five Natures of the Soul.)
Limma — See Musical Intervals (Diesis).
Model — In Timaeus the model for the Cosmos was the world offorms. As he fashioned this world, God had in mind the other, finer world as a kind of 'blueprint'.
Mese — the middle note of the scale. (See Ancient Greek Dorian Mode.)
Motion — see Five Natures of the Soul.
Multiple — see Numerical Ratios.
Musical Intervals (Diesis)
Diapason — 'through all the notes' — the Greek term for the
musical interval of an octave.
Diapente — 'through five notes' — the interval of a perfect
fifth. Diatessaron — 'through four notes' — the interval of a
perfect fourth. Diesis — a small interval that is similar to a
semitone, having a musical ratio of 256:243. Plato called it a
Limma or 'left-over' because it was what remained when two whole tones were extracted from a perfect fourth.
Disdiapason — a musical interval of two octaves.
Equivox, equison — different voices or sounds sharing in (equated
within) a single harmonic ratio.
Unison — a single sound. (See equison and
equivox.)
Numbers
These are numbers seen in the Pythagorean way. The Pythagoreans were most interested in the special characteristics of numbers.
Circular — these are numbers which, no matter how many times they
are multiplied by themselves, always reappear in the last digit:
e.g., no matter how many times 6 is multiplied by itself, the total
will always contain 6 as the last digit of the total: 6 x 6 = 36; 6
x 6 x 6= 216; 6 x 6 x 6 x 6= 1296, etc. 5 is another well known
circular number.
Harmonicb> — the number ratios which are related to proportion and
are relevant to music.
Linear — these are prime numbers, for they cannot be formed into
planes or solids: that is, as they can only be divided by themselves
and unity, they contain no breadth.
Plane — any number that has at least two factors can be arranged
as a plane.
Plane numbers are of two types:
(a) square, which have equal sides (equilateral)
(b) rectangular, which have two unequal sides, for example (6 = 2
x 3). The more favoured type of rectangular number is a `long',
which is equivalent to a superparticular numerical ratio. It has
sides of unit difference. 6 is of this type. The lesser kind Ficino
called 'oblong', a name which he designated to all superpartient
types of ratio — that is, with sides of more than unit difference.
15 is of this type, with sides of 5 and 3. However, they are all rectangular numbers. Some highly factored numbers
can be rectangular in more than one way: for example, 12 can be 4 x
3 and 6 x 2.
Solid — whereas plane numbers have both length and breadth, solid
numbers have the added dimension of depth. The most regular of these
are cubes, which are visually 'solid'. The side of a cube is its
cube root, just as the side of a square is its square root. This
visual way of comprehending numbers gives an indication of how
Pythagoreans approached numbers.
Thee Lambda itself is a profound
integration of Pythagorean numbers. Cubes are not the only solid
numbers, for there are also all cuboid numbers. 12, for example, is
also a cuboid, with sides of 2 x 2 x 3.
Numerical Ratios:
Aliquot part — an equal part of a whole.
Double — the ratio of two to one (2 :1 or 2/1).
Multiple — a whole number or integer: for example, doubles,
triples and quadruples are multiples.
Quadruple — four to one (4:1 or 4/1).
Subduple — the`inversion of the double or one to two (1:2 or
1/2).
Superbipartient — two and multiple parts of any denominator: for example, two and two thirds of one, or two and three fifths of
one.
Superparticular — one and a single part of any denominator: for example, one and one half of one, or one and one third of one.
Superpartient — one and multiple parts of any denominator: for example, one and two thirds of one, or one and three fifths of one.
Triplethree to one (3 :1 or 3/1).
Parahypate — see Ancient Greek Dorian Mode.
Paramese — see Ancient Greek Dorian Mode.
Phthongus — a distinct musical note.
Quadruple — see Numerical Ratios.
Same, The — see Five Natures of the Soul.
Sesquialteral, sesquitertial — see Numerical Ratios.
Stillness — see Five Natures of the Soul.
Subduple — see Numerical Ratios.
Superparticular, superpartient, superbipartient — see Numerical Ratios.
Triple — see Numerical Ratios.
Trite — see Ancient Greek Dorian Mode.
Unison — see Musical Intervals.
Gardens of Philosophy: Ficino on Plato (Commentaries by Ficino on
Plato's Writing) Translation by Arthur Farndell
(Shepheard-Walwyn)
Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499) made a vital contribution to the change
in European Society that took place in the Renaissance. Men of
influence throughout Europe drew intellectual and spiritual
inspiration from him and his Academy. He conducted an extensive
correspondence and during his life 12 volumes of his letters were
published. With the exception of a few individual letters, these
have not been translated into English before. The ongoing
translations are the work of a group of scholars at the School of
Economic Science in London.
With the publication of Arthur Farndell’s Gardens of Philosophy
(Shepheard-Walwyn), there remained only four of Ficino’s
commentaries on Plato’s dialogues which had not yet been translated
into English. With the publication of this volume there remain only
three. Farndell’s translation of the commentaries on the Republic
and the Laws will comprise the third volume under the title When
Philosophers Rule (9780856832574 – due 2009) and the fourth, All
Things Natural (9780856832581 – due 2010), will contain the Timaeus.
As Carol Kaske of Cornell University wrote when reviewing Gardens of
Philosophy in Renaissance Quarterly, these translations fill ‘a
need. Even those Anglophone scholars who know Latin still need a
translation in order to read quickly through a large body of
material’
The bronze relief on the front depicts Philosophy welcoming us to
the gardens of the Platonic Academy. It was inspired by the words of
Marsilio Ficino in the preface to his commentaries on Plato's
dialogues.
The Gardens of Philosophy begins with this preface, which introduces
short commentaries or summaries relating to twenty-five of the
Platonic dialogues and to the twelve letters thought to have been
written by Plato.
By the middle of the fifteenth century the works of Plato had been
carefully gathered together under the watchful eye of Cosimo de'
Medici. Cosimo had been attracted to the philosophy of Plato by the
words of Gemistos Plethon during the Council of Florence in 1439.
In 1462 Cosimo commissioned Marsilio Ficino to translate Plato's
works from Greek into Latin. Ficino's biographer, Giovanni Corsi,
tells us that this undertaking was completed within five years.
For each dialogue, Ficino supplied an interpretative work in the
form of a commentary or summary. These interpretations are presented
here as philosophical and spiritual works in their own right.
Arthur Farndell was born and lives in London. He studied at King's
College, Cambridge, where he took his BA degree in French and
Italian, with additional papers in linguistics and the history of
Ithe Romance languages. He later received his MA degree from
Cambridge. He has been a member of the School of Economic Science
since 1960, concentrating on Philosophy, Sanskrit, and Renaissance
Studies. For more than thirty years he has been a member of the team
of translators who have produced, to date, seven volumes of The
Letters of Marsilio Ficino. He is also the author of Succeed in
Maths and A Mahâbhârata Companion. He is happily married, and he and
his wife have five children and six grandchildren.
PLATO HAS EXERTED a major influence on Western civilisation for
nearly two and a half millennia. He and his master Socrates were
chiefly concerned with what constitutes the real happiness for human
beings and with the communication of this to others. For them, the
Good did not consist in wealth, power and the gratification of the
senses, but in the knowledge of the very principle of goodness of
which all those things that seem good are merely transitory
reflections. In Plato's view, the path to the Good lies in the
contemplation of the Good and the practice of the virtues: wisdom,
courage, justice, and temperance.
Marsilio Ficino, a Florentine priest of the fifteenth century, was
the last of a long line of philosophers to re-introduce Plato's
teaching into society as a living commitment rather than an abstract
theory. In addition to writing books to show that the works of Plato
were in perfect harmony with the Christian religion, Ficino
translated all the works of Plato from Greek into Latin. He also
wrote illuminating commentaries on Plato's dialogues.
This volume consists of Ficino's shorter commentaries or summaries.
They all have as their focus Plato's primary concern with the Good
but the treatment of the theme is refreshingly varied. Neither Plato
nor Ficino was an ivory-tower philosopher: they both believed that
the virtues found within could be practised in the government of the
State. The qualities of the good householder are also the qualities
of the good ruler writ large. In these commentaries the reader will
find an insight into the text of Plato's dialogues which leads to a
much greater understanding of the original master.
No one is better equipped than Arthur Farndell to translate these
commentaries. He has a comprehensive knowledge of the Latin language
and a thorough knowledge not only of Plato but also of Ficino, since
he has worked continuously on the translation of Ficino's letters
from Latin into English, of which seven volumes have now been
published.
THE GARDENS of Philosophy are ever open to all who would like to
enter. Philosophy herself extends a hand in gracious welcome,
inviting us to walk in the company of Plato and find peace and
inspiration in an atmosphere of reflective inquiry.
Loving hands have tended these grounds throughout millennia. Our
present guide is Marsilio Ficino, sometimes known as a second Plato.
More than five hundred years ago his work in the philosophical
gardens re-invigorated Europe through Latin translations of Plato's
dialogues. The translations themselves were freshened by the streams
of commentaries flowing from Ficino's heart and mind.
During the last hundred years new blooms have appeared in the
gardens, as Ficino's own writings and translations have been
rendered into modern European languages. The present floral offering
consists of Ficino's shorter commentaries to Plato's dialogues,
together with his commentaries to the twelve letters attributed to
Plato.
There is no doubt that Ficino regarded Plato as one of the head
gardeners, and himself as one who was privileged to work the same
soil. Nevertheless, the ground tilled anew by Ficino has produced
flowers attractive in their own right. Here is a welcoming posy,
plucked here and there from the abundant beds:
`Man is a rational soul, partaking of mind and using a body.'
`Law is eternal, absolutely unchangeable, and among all nations it
is the same.'
`The philosopher's function is to know the divine and govern the
human.'
`Bodily beauty is not to be loved for its own sake but is to be
thought of as an image of divine beauty.'
`Prayer is the ardent disposition of the pure soul, a disposition
devoted to God and desirous of what is seen to be good.'
`The function of man is not to perceive, but to consider what he has
perceived.'
May your visit be restful and restorative.
Partial contents:
PART ONE: Summaries of Twenty-five Dialogues of Plato
Translator's Notes to Part One
Ficino's Preface to his Commentaries on Plato
Hipparchus: the Desire for Gain
Philosophy or The Lover
Theages: Wisdom Meno: Virtue
Alcibiades I: Nature of Man
Alcibiades II: Prayer Minos: Law
Euthyphro: Holiness
Hippias: the Beautiful and Noble
Lysis: Friendship
Theaetetus: Knowledge
Ion: Poetic Inspiration
Statesman: Kingship
Protagoras: Virtue
Euthydemus: the Views of the Sophists
Lesser Hippias: Truthfulness
Charmides: Temperance
Laches: Courage
Cratylus: Names
Gorgias: Rhetoric
Apology: Socrates' defence
Crito: Socrates' way of life
Phaedo: Nature of the soul
Menexenus: Love for one's country,
Critias: Story of Atlantis,
PART TWO: Discussions of the Twelve 'Letters of Plato'
Translator's Notes to Part Two
First Letter: from Dion to Dionysius
Second Letter: from Plato to Dionysius
Third Letter: from Plato to Dionysius
Fourth Letter: from Plato to Dion
Fifth Letter: from Dion to Perdiccas
Sixth Letter: from Plato to Hermias, Erastus, and Coriscus
Seventh Letter: from Plato to Dion's relatives and friends
Eighth Letter: from Plato to Dion's relatives and friends
Ninth Letter: from Plato to Archytas
Tenth Letter: from Plato to Aristodemus
Eleventh Letter: from Plato to Laodoman
Twelfth Letter: from Plato to Archytas
PART THREE: Appendices, Translator's Notes to Part Three, Ficino's
Introduction to ten of Plato's dialogues Ficino's Preface to his
commentaries on Plato, Index
Evermore Shall Be So: Ficino on Plato’s Parmenides translated
by
Arthur Farndell (Shepheard-Walwyn) Having translated the works of
Plato and the major Neo-Platonists from Greek into Latin, Ficino was
in a unique position to provide commentaries on Plato’s dialogues,
explaining the substance of the dialogue in the context of the whole
corpus of Platonic thought and Renaissance Florence.
To Ficino, however, philosophy was much more than an intellectual
exercise. As a canon of Florence Cathedral, he recognised the
spiritual significance of Plato’s dialogues, of which Parmenides is
perhaps the most profound, dealing as it does with the ultimate
reality and how the individual soul may ascend to the presence of
the eternal One.
The central message of Parmenides, that everything depends on the
One, resonates with the growing awareness around the world of the
inter-relatedness of all things, be it in the biosphere, the
intellectual or spiritual realms. Philosophers in ancient Greece
appreciated this unity and employed reason and dialectic to draw the
mind away from its preoccupation with the material world and attract
it towards contemplation of the soul, and ultimately of that Oneness
which embraces, but is distinct from, the multifarious forms of
creation.
Thus Parmenides carefully instructed the young Socrates, and Plato
recorded their dialogue in this work which he named after the
elderly philosopher. Nearly 2000 years later, Marsilio Ficino made
Parmenides available to the West by translating it into Latin, the
language of scholars in his time. Ficino added a lengthy commentary
to this translation, a commentary which Evermore Shall Be So puts
into English for the first time, more than 500 years after its
original composition.
Ficino’s crucial influence upon the unfolding of the Renaissance and
his presentation of Plato’s understanding of the One and the
so-called Platonic Ideas or Forms make Evermore Shall Be So an
important work in the history of thought. Though it will be an
essential buy for Renaissance scholars and historians, its freshness
of thought and wisdom are as relevant today as they ever were to
inspire a new generation seeking spiritual and philosophical
direction in their lives.
MULTIFARIOUS are the introductions that could be written to the
commentary made by Marsilio Ficino to Plato's Parmenides. The
translator has chosen to focus on the two themes that particularly
struck him as he read and re-read Ficino's text. The first is the
care shown by Parmenides in the training he imparts to Socrates. The
second is Ficino's presentation of Plato's text as a work of
practical spirituality.
The care shown by Parmenides
IN HIS DEDICATION of the commentary to Niccolò Valori, Ficino
remarks that Parmenides, though older, does not contradict
Socrates'. In Chapter 15 some correction does occur in dealing with
the doubts expressed by Socrates: Parmenides does not correct the
first doubt, but he does correct the second.' It is the next chapter
that clearly depicts the care evinced by the elder philosopher, whom
Ficino here presents in the likeness of a midwife:
Just as Socrates, the son of a midwife, performs the office of a
midwife in different places towards boys and youths and proclaims
this before others, so the aged Parmenides, like a dutiful midwife,
exhorts and helps the youthful Socrates to give birth to the
wonderful, almost divine, opinions with which he is pregnant and
which he is trying to bring forth.
Moreover, he does not reject or destroy the children that are born
lacking beauty, but rather he takes them up and cherishes them in a
wonderful way. He strengthens the weak, straightens the crooked,
gives shape to the shapeless, and perfects the imperfect. No one,
therefore, will think that Parmenides the Pythagorean, the friend of
Ideas in the manner of his fellows, and the pursuer of Being, which
is detached from sensory perception, and of the One Itself, which is
above Being, condemns opinions of this kind; but every follower of
Plato will remember that Socrates is being very carefully trained
by Parmenides in dialectic, in order that he may be much more
heedful when considering the divine mysteries, that he may proceed
with greater care, and that he may reach the end of his journey in
greater safety.
The portrayal of Parmenides as a midwife appears again in Chapter
26, where he is also compared to a teacher:
That Parmenides does not pursue Socrates at every point like a
disputant and rebuke him, but in the manner of a midwife encourages,
assists, cherishes, guides and corrects him, is plain to observe,
because this young man does not gradually wane but gains strength at
every step, being led towards better things ... Therefore, being now
guided by Parmenides as by a teacher, he puts forward a true and
definite view of Ideas.
The third comparison of Parmenides to a midwife occurs in Chapter
34, where Ficino says:
When Parmenides pursues, in relation to Socrates, the dedicated
function of midwife which he introduced at the beginning,
stimulating the inner powers of the young man to a most precise
consideration of Ideas and showing on numerous occasions that very
serious errors arise from imprecise answers and responses, and that
it is a difficult task, and one that requires an excellent mind, to
prove`that Ideas exist, to show how they exist, to truly resolve
doubts as they arise, and to teach with clear reason the person who
is listening, all of these things make Socrates very careful and
precise.
In Chapter 18 Ficino portrays Parmenides as being a particularly
careful tutor when Ideas are being considered:
When Parmenides, therefore, is going to instruct Socrates, or rather
encourage him, to contemplate that true way of participation by
which Ideas are perceived by what is below them, he rejects, one by
one, the ways which are not lawful ... Thus Socrates is advised to
consider a nonphysical, indeed divine, way of understanding, for we
are considering either the power of an Idea or the property of an
Idea ... Moreover, in comparing an Idea to the light of day he
speaks rightly, but in thinking that light spreads through air like
heat and is like a sail spread over the heads of many men, and in
thinking that this is how an Idea is present is many objects, he is
refuted by Parmenides, who says that, if this were the case, an Idea
would not be totally present in anything but would be present in
some parts of the objects through some of its own parts; and in this
way he compels the young man to answer with greater care.
In the following chapter Ficino indicates that Socrates, for his
part, is a ready student:
Step by step Socrates is instructed in these matters so that he may
consider a partaking of the Ideas which is higher than any physical
principle. To this instruction Socrates readily assents, being
inclined towards it by nature.
The measured restraint practised by Parmenides throughout the
training imparted to Socrates is clearly in evidence in Chapter 21
of Ficino's commentary:
As a Pythagorean with due regard for Ideas, Parmenides does not
cross Socrates when the latter supposes that, on account of
assemblages of items coming together within something definite in
response to a cause related to form, type, nature, and perfection,
there is a single Idea for each and every assemblage within a type.
He does, however, temper Socrates' enthusiasm, in order to avoid the
possible inference that any collection of items has to be related to
a specific Idea, even if these items seem to come together`by some
accidental or passing circumstance, by some deficiency,
artificiality, or name; for if this were the case, there would be an
unnatural number of causes for many of the occurrences within
nature, and the number of Ideas would be`infinite ... This is how
Socrates is advised not to imagine a new Idea for every apparent
combination.
The restraint continues to be evident in the following chapter,
where Ficino, after comparing Socrates to 'a young man without
sufficient training', says:
Finally, Parmenides does not in fact reprove Socrates for seeking
I refuge in such notions, but he does reprove him for appearing to
stay there. He therefore takes pains, through this reference to new
notions which relates to the naturally implanted types, to call him
back next not only to these types but also to the divine types.
However, from this point onwards the training of the young man's
mind does seem to become somewhat stricter:
For this reason Parmenides, intending to lead Socrates on to a
fuller explanation of these things, will henceforth insist upon many
reasonings.
(Chapter 26)
... when Socrates was being tested by Parmenides.
(Chapter 27)
Parmenides advises the young man ... to proceed more carefully
hence‑forth. (Chapter 27)
Parmenides therefore advises Socrates, in relation to the divine
Ideas, to acknowledge both the pre-eminence of their nature and
their ability to impart their power. (Chapter 28)
In brief, Socrates had to answer Parmenides by saying that the ideal
lordship and the ideal service are not related to us but to each
other, I mean through their first indissoluble relationship.
(Chapter 30)
For this reason Socrates is now carefully trained, so that he learns
to resolve doubts about Ideas, which, if unresolved, would detract
from divine providence. (Chapter 32)
Even in the later chapters of the commentary Ficino reminds us of
the unremitting dedication shown by Parmenides in his instruction of
Socrates. In Chapter 87 he says that Parmenides hones the young
man's mind ever more keenly', and in Chapter 90 we find:
Parmenides, when preparing to train the mind of the noble young man
along these lines, obliges him repeatedly, by means of the tightest
constraints, either to withdraw from the false or else to make use
of these abstractions, in which, as the man whom you know also says,
there is no falsehood ... Parmenides tacitly reminds us of these
things, partly instructing the mind of the young man by means of
some logical stratagem and partly sowing some hidden teaching here
and there.
Finally, in Chapter 93, Ficino again draws our attention to the same
theme:
Notice how Parmenides, at times when philosophic tenets are being
torn to shreds, trains the young man to be careful in his replies
and judicious in his discrimination.
What effect did this training at the hands of Parmenides have upon
Socrates? Ficino gives the answer in Chapter 37 by referring to a
response given by Socrates in the Theaetetus:
In the Theaetetus, when Socrates was asked to refute those who
posited a single motionless being, he did not undertake to do so
himself but gave this answer: Although I honour Melissus and others,
who say that there is one self-consistent totality, for it may seem
immodest of me to cross them, yet I honour them less than I do
Parmenides alone, for Parmenides, to use Homer's words, strikes me
as one who is sagacious and worthy of great honour. I once conversed
with him when he was advanced in years and I was but a youth, and he
struck me as having a wisdom that was profound and noble in all
respects. This is why I fear that we do not have the slightest
understanding of his sayings and expressions, and what he himself
implied by his words is, I fear, even more of a closed book to us.
Excerpt:
AN OVERVIEW`of Ficino's Parmenides Commentary
Dedication to Niccolò Valori
`Plato ... has embraced all theology within Parmenides [Plato ...
universam in Parmenide complexus`est theologiam].'
`He seems to have drawn this celestial work, in a divine way, from
the deep recesses of the divine mind and from the innermost
sanctuary of philosophy [videtur et ex divinae mentis adytis
intimoque Philosophiae sacrario caeleste hoc opus divinitus
deprompsisse]. Anyone approaching his sacred writings [Ad cuius
sacram lectionem quisque accedet] should prepare himself with
sobriety of soul and freedom of mind before daring to handle the
mysteries of the celestial work [prius sobrietate animi mentisque
libertate se preparet, quam attrectare mysteria caelestis operis
audeat]. For here the divine Plato [Hic enim divinus Plato],
speaking of the One Itself, discusses with great subtlety how the
One Itself is the principle of all things [de ipso uno subtilissime
disputat quemadmodum ipsum unum rerum omnium principium est]: how it
is above all [super omnia], and all things come from it [omniaque ab
illo]; how it is outside all and within all [Quo pacto ipsum extra
omnia sit, et in omnibus]; and how all come out of it [omniaque ex
illo], through it, and to it [per illud atque ad illud].'
`Parmenides ... unfolds the whole principle of Ideas [Parmenides
integram idearum explicat rationem].'
Parmenides 'introduces nine hypotheses [suppositiones] ..., five on
the basis that the One exists and four on the basis that the One
does not exist.'
Ficino gives a brief statement on the nature of each hypothesis, and
he points out that Parmenides' main intention is to affirm that
'there is a single principle [principium] of all things, end if that
is in place everything is in place, but if it be removed everything
perishes.'
The first hypothesis 'discusses the one supreme God [de uno
supremoque Deo disserit].'
The second 'discusses the individual orders of the divinities [de
singulis Deorum ordinibus].'
The third 'discusses divine souls [de divinis animis].'
The fourth 'discusses those which come into being in the region
which surrounds matter [de iis, quae circa materiam fiunt].'
The fifth 'discusses primal matter [de materia prima].'
The Preface of Marsilio Ficino to his Commentary on Parmenides
`Under the guise of a dialectical and, as it were, logical game
aimed at training the intelligence [sub ludo quodam dialectico et
quasi logico exercitaturo videlicet ingenium], Plato points towards
divine teachings and many aspects of theology [ad diving dogmata
passim theologica multa significat.]'
`The subject matter of this Parmenides is particularly theological
[Materia Parmenidis huius potissimum theologica est] and its form
particularly logical [forma vero praecipue logica].'
Chapter 1: Setting the scene for the dialogue
A request is made for a previous discussion involving Parmenides,
Zeno, and Socrates to be recounted.
Chapter 2: How the whole of being is one, but the One Itself is
above being [Quomodo omne ens sit unum, ipsum vero unum super ens]
`The universe, or the all [universum sive omne] is appreciated in
these three ways [tribus his modis accipitur]: individually,
collectively, as a whole [singulatim, congregatim, summatim].'
`Beyond that unity which partakes perfectly of the intelligible
world [praeter unitatem illam intelligibili mundo perfecte
participatam] he (Parmenides) postulates a supreme unity
[eminentissimam excogitat unitatem] higher than the one universal
being [universo ente uno excelsiorem], for the nature of being is
different from the nature of unity [alia enim ipsius entis, alia
unitatis`ipsius ratio est].'
`Therefore the one being [Unum igitur ens] is not the simple One
Itself [non est ipsum simpliciter unum] but is in all respects a
composite [sed quoquomodo compositum] mixed with multiplicity
[multitudinique permixtum].'
Chapter 3: All multiplicity partakes of Unity [Omnis multitudo est
particeps unitatis]
Zeno, Parmenides' disciple, confirms his master's proposition with
another, 'whereby he shows that beings are not many [ens non esse
multa], that is, not only many [id est, solum multa], but beyond
their multiplicity [sed praeter multitudinem] they partake of unity
[esse partecipes unitatis].'
Chapter 4: The Existence and Nature of Ideas [Ideas esse, et quales]
`Human nature depends on the Idea of man [ab idea hominis humana
natura (dependet)].'
`Now the cause which is unmoving and universal at the same time
[Causa vero immobilis simul universalisque] is necessarily the
intellect [necessario est intellectus] and the intellectual Idea [et
intellectualis idea].'
Again, there are many Ideas [Ideae rursus multae sunt], as least as
many as the types of natural phenomena [quod saltem rerum species
naturalium], and each one is called a unity [et unaquaeque unitas
appellatur], I mean, not simply unity [unitas inquam non
simpliciter], but a unity [imo quaedam].'
For this reason [quamobrem] there exists above ideal unities [super
ideales unitates extat] the One that is simply itself [ipsum
simpliciter unum], governing the full expansion of all species [per
quaslibet multitudines latissime regnans].'
Chapter 5: In what respects Ideas differ among themselves and in
what respects they agree [Quomodo ideae inter se differant et
convenient]
`Since Ideas are eternal and intellectual in their extreme purity
[Ideae cum sint aeternae et ad puritatis summum intellectuales],
they produce within the same sequence beneath them unmoving and pure
effects prior to moving and impure effects [effectus procreant in
eadem sub ipsis serie stabiles atque puros, priusquam mobiles et
impuros].'
Chapter 6: For what there are Ideas, and for what there are no
Ideas: there are as many Ideas as there are rational souls [Quorum
sint ideae. Quorum non sint. Quot sunt rationales animae, totidem
earum sunt ideae]
`There is a single Idea for the whole of a single type [unius
communiter speciei una est idea].'
Chapter 7: There is no Idea for matter [Nulla est idea materiae]
Chapter 8: There are no Ideas for individual items [Singularium non
sunt ideae]
Chapter 9: There are no Ideas for parts [Partium non sunt ideae]
`One is prior to multiplicity [unum antecedit multitudinem].'
Chapter 10: How there are Ideas for the Accidental [Quomodo
accidentium sint ideae]
Chapter 11: There are no Ideas for Skills [Artificiorum non sunt
ideae]
Chapter 12: There are Ideas for only the Speculative Branches of
Knowledge [Scientiarum solum speculativarum sunt ideae]
Chapter 13: There are no Ideas for Evils [Non sunt ideae malorum]
`God Himself is every Idea [quaelibet ... idea est ipse Deus].'
Chapter 14: There are no Ideas for vile things [Sordium non sunt
ideae]
`There is no Idea for mud [Non est idea luti], but there is an Idea
for water and for earth [sed aquae terraeque idea].'
Chapter 15: Even those things which are not expressed through Ideas
are related to Providence and to a divine cause [Etiam quae per
ideas ipsas non exprimuntur, ad providentiam pertinent causamque
divinam]
Chapter 16: Parmenides corrects or modifies the replies of Socrates,
but does not destroy them [Parmenides responsiones Socratis corrigit
vel dirigit, non disperdit]
Chapter 17: How the things of our world partake of Ideas, being the
images of Ideas, without their having any identical or common cause
[Quomodo res nostrae participant ideas, tanquam imagines idearum.
Neque his atque illis est ulla ratio eadem vel natura communis]
`The ideal causes [Ideales rationes] are in the intellect of the
Maker [in conditore sunt intellectu] and also in the world-soul [et
in ipsa mundi anima] and in universal nature [et in universali
natura].'
Chapter 18: An Idea is not partaken of in a physical way, so that
neither the whole nor any part of it is received [Idea non
participatur corporeo more: ita ut vel tots vel pars eius aliqua
capiatur]
`Nothing in our world [Nulla quidem rerum nostrarum] apprehends the
whole power of an Idea [totam capit ideae virtutem]: that eternal,
effective, and totally indivisible essence, perfect life, and
perfect intelligence [scilicet aeternam illam efficaciam individuam
prorsus essentiam, vitam intelligentiamque perfectam].'
Chapter 19: Ideal largeness, ideal equality, and ideal smallness are
not partaken of by any nature divisible into parts [Ipsa magnitudo
aequalitas, parvitas ideales non participantur conditione quadam in
partes divisibili]
`Let us consider ideal equality [consideramus idealem aequalitatem]:
an intellectual ratio [scilicet rationem quandam intellectualem]
which is both a model and a unifier [tam exemplarem, quam
conciliatricem] of universal harmony [universae congruitatis] and of
harmonic proportion [et proportionis harmonicae] and of any kind of
equality [aequalitatisque cuiuslibet]
Chapter 20: Neither by nature nor by circumstance do Ideas meet with
material things [Ideas non convenire cum materialibus neque natura
neque conditione]
`It is clearly the case [plane constat] that Ideas are remote from
[illas procul ab] all differentiation, all place, all movement, and
all time [omni divisione, loco, motu, tempore esse], being
indivisible, unmoving, eternal, and present everywhere
[impartibiles, immobiles, aeternas, ubique praesentes]: so present
[ita praesentes] that each quality of an Idea [ut cuiuslibet ideae
proprietas quaedam] extends to the uttermost ends of creation [ad
ultimas perveniat mundi formas].'
`However, it is important now to remember [Meminisse vero nunc
oportet] that forms in the physical world [formas in materia] are
not produced directly from Ideas, but are made through the
seed-powers of nature derived from Ideas [non proxime ab ideis, sed
per vires seminales naturae illinc infusas effici].'
Chapter 21: We should not suppose that every assemblage of
multifarious items suggests that there is a single Idea for those
items [Non debemus ex qualibet multorum communion, unam illorum
ideam excogitare]
Chapter 22: From types which are created by the soul we must rise to
types which are naturally present in the soul, and then rise from
those to types which are divine [Oportet a speciebus quae fiunt ab
anima ad species ascendere quae naturaliter insunt animae. Ab his
insuper ad divinas]
We use reason aright to take physical things back to their
non-physical causes [resque corporeas ad incorporeal causas recta
ratione reducimus].'
Chapter 23: The first types of creation, which are also the
principal subjects of the intellect, are prior to the intelligences
[Primae rerum species, quae etiam sunt principalia intellectus
obiecta intelligentias antecedunt]
`Just as true sense [quemadmodum verus sensus] focuses on something
perceptible [circa sensibile quiddam versatur] which actually exists
[quod et revera existit], which is prior to sense [et antecedit
sensum], and which is united with sense at the time of perception
[ac denique cum sensu iam sentiente coniungitur], so true
intelligence [sic intelligentia vera], which he now calls notion
[quam nunc nominat notionem], is directed towards something that is
intelligible to it [ad intelligibile suum dirigitur], that really
exists and is prior to it [revera existens atque praecedens], and is
more united with notion [et magis cum notione coniunctum] than the
perceptible is with sense [quam cum sensu sensibile].'
Chapter 24: Ideas are intelligible things rather than intelligences,
and these intelligible things are prior to intelligences [Ideae non
tam intelligentiae quam intelligibilia sunt. Atque haec
intelligentias antecedunt]
`This universe has taken its rise not so much from the intellect or
the intelligence as from intelligible things, namely, the first
essence, which is full of intelligible types and powers [universum
hoc non tam ab intellectu vel intelligentia quam ab
intelligibilibus, id est, ab essentia prima intelligibilium
specierum virtutumque plena].'
Chapter 25: The quality of an Idea somehow remains one throughout an
entire sequence, while the power of an Idea varies [Proprietas
idealis una quodammodo est in tota serie. Virtus autem varia]
Chapter 26: Ideas are not simple notions but natural types which
possess model power and effective power [Ideae non sunt simplices
notiones quaedam, sed species naturales, vim exemplarem
efficientemque habentes]
`The nature of the Idea is not conveyed to our world [neque ipsa
ideae natura ad haec nostra transfertur], nor, conversely, do the
things of our world in any way meet Ideas [neque haec igitur in re
ulla conveniunt cum ideis], but merely reflect them [sed solum illas
referunt], just as the image in a mirror reflects the face
[quemadmodum specularis imago vultum].'
Chapter 27: Natural forms are rightly said to be similar to Ideas,
but Ideas must not be described as similar to natural forms
[Naturales formae dicuntur quidem ideis similes. Ideae vero harum
similes appellari non debent]
Chapter 28: Contrary to the opinion of the Stoics and the
Aristotelians, Ideas and all things divine are separate from nature
and have a power that can be imparted to everything [Contra stoicos
atque peripateticos, quod ideae divinaque omnia et natura segregata
sunt et virtutem habent cunctis communicabilem]
`The first Good acts and cares with the greatest possible providence
[primum denique ipsumque bonum quam maxime Tacit et providet].'
Chapter 29: The ways in which Ideas cannot be known by us, and the
ways in which they can be known [Quomodo ideae a nobis cognosci non
possint. Item quomodo possint]
`But when we say in this discussion that the first types are within
themselves, you should understand [Tu vero inter haec ubi primas
species esse dicimus in seipsis, intellige] that they are not within
the first intellect [non esse in primo intellectu] like parts within
a whole [velut partes in toto], or like qualities within an object
[vel qualitates aliquas in subiecto], but like numbers within unity
[sed quemadmodum in unitate numeri], like the beginnings of lines
within a centre [in centro capita linearum], like the rays and
colours within the light of the sun [in solis lute, radii, vel
colores].'
Chapter 30: The ways in which Ideas are not related, or may be
related, to the things of our world, and vice versa. Also concerning
lordship and service and relationships in the realm of Ideas
[Quomodo ideae non referantur vel referantur ad nostra, et haec ad
illas. Ac de dominatione illic et servitute, et relationibus
idearum]
Chapter 31: How pure knowledge relates to pure truth, while human
knowledge relates to human truth. How Ideas may be unknown or known
[Quomodo ipsa simpliciter scientia ad ipsam simpliciter veritatem
refertur. Scientia humana, ad humanam. Quomodo ideae ignotae vel
notae]
Chapter 32: Concerning the way of divine consideration and
providence [De modo divinae cognitionis atque providentiae]
`By being aware that He Himself is the origin of all [cognoscendo se
ipsum principium omnium], He immediately cognises all and makes all
[omnia statim et cognoscit et facit] .'
Chapter 33: On divine lordship and consciousness, and on`the six
orders of Ideas or forms [De dominatione et cognitione divina, atque
de sex ordinibus idearum vel formarum]
Tor it is not by intelligence [Non enim intelligential but by some
more mysterious act [sed occultiore quodam actu] that we are able to
appreciate the first principle of the universe [frui primo universi
principio pos- sumus].'
Chapter 34: If there be no Ideas in the presence of God and no ideal
patterns within us, then Dialectic will perish, and so will all
Philosophy. There will be no proof, definition, division, or
explanation [Nisi sint et ideae penes deum et ideales in nobis
formulae, peribit dialectica omnisque philosophia. Non erit
demonstratio vel definitio, vel divisio, vel resolutio]
`We have shown conclusively [confirmavimus] that the patterns and
models of all things [formulas regulasque rerum] are naturally
implanted within our mind [esse menti etiam nostrae naturaliter
insitas].'
Chapter 35: On the practice of Dialectic through the intellectual
forms and with the intelligible types as the aim [De dialectica
exercitatione per formas intellectuales, ad species intelligibiles]
Parmenides 'will begin [exordietur] from the One [ab uno] as the
cause of Ideas and of divine matters [tanquam causa idearum atque
divinorum], showing throughout the debate [significans in toto
disputationis cursu] that this One [ipsum unum] produces all beings
step by step [producere entia omnia gradatim].'
In this way Ideas [Illas igitur] are finally attained [attingit
tandem] by the simple gaze of steady intelligence [stabilis
intelligentiae simplex intuitus], a gaze utterly dissociated from
all considerations of material things [ab omnibus materialium
cogitationibus penitus segregatus].'
Chapter 36: The rules of Dialectic which pre-suppose being or
non-being, and the number of ways in which non-being is described
[Regulae dialecticae supponentes esse vel non esse, et quot modis
dicitur non ens]
Parmenides maintains that the most powerful form of reasoning is
[Potissimam argumentandi formam esse vult] that which proceeds from
hypothesis [quae ex suppositione procedit] and examines carefully
[perpendens], with many steps [multis gradibus] what follows [quid
sequatur] if something is affirmed and what follows if it is denied
[affirmato quolibet vel negato], for this form of reasoning [forma
enim eiusmodi] does not depend on any human contrivances [non
machinis quibusdam confidit humanis], but relies on a rational
succession of natural and divine things [sed ipsa rerum naturalium
divinarumque consequenti serie nititur] and has the hierarchy of the
universe as its teacher of truth [praeceptoremque veritatis habet
ipsum ordinem universi].'
Chapter 37: The subsequent discussion is said to be difficult,
because it is not only logical but also theological [Futura
disputatio dicitur ardua, quia non solum logica est sed etiam
theological
Chapter 38: On the hypotheses of Parmenides; and on the Good, which,
according to the words of Plato, is higher than being and higher
than intellect [De suppositionibus Parmenidis. Et de uno bonoque
quod ente et intellectu superius, per verba Platonis]
`It is shown in the Philebus [In Philebo probatur] that from the One
[ab ipso uno], which is the beginning of creation [rerum principio],
two are immediately produced [statim produci binarium]: the
principles of beings [scilicet principia entium], or the two
elements known as limit and limitlessness [vel elementa duo,
terminum scilicet infinitatemque]
From these two [ex quibus] all beings are directly compounded [omnia
prorsus entia componantur], but before the compounding of other
beings [sed ante aliorum entium compositionem] the first to be
compounded and mixed from these two`[primum ex his confici mixtum]
is the first being [scilicet ens primum], which contains universal
being within itself`[in se continens ens universum].'
Ficino draws support also from the sixth book of the Republic: 'The
Good Itself [ipsum bonum] is not the intellect or the intelligible
[neque tamen est intellectus vel intelligibile] or the truth or
essence [vel veritas vel essential, but is higher than all these in
excellence and power [sed his omnibus dignitate et potentate
superius].'
Further support is taken from the Sophist: 'It is clear that in the
first being [probatur in primo ente] there are all those things
[omnia esse] which are necessarily required for the perfection of
being [quae ad perfectionem entis necessario requiruntur].'
`Finally, he shows in the Sophist [probatur denique in Sophiste] ...
that the first universal being [ipsum primum et universum ens] is
subject to the One [patitur unum], both in its parts [turn in
partibus suis] and as a whole [turn in toto].'
Chapter 39: Next, how Plato proceeds to the First. Its name. The
Idea of the Good [Item quomodo Plato procedit ad primum. De nomine
eius. De idea boni]
`Throughout his writings Plato reduces perceptible multiplicities to
intelligible unities, that is, to Ideas [Plato ... ubique
sensibiles passim multitudines ad intelligibiles redigit unitates,
id est, ideas]: for his intention is to relate each single
multiplicity [scilicet unamquamque multitudinem invicem cognaturum]
to a single Idea [ad ideam unam], and then to relate the
intelligible unities to the simple One Itself [ad ipsum simpliciter
unum], which excels the intelligible world by at least as much [quod
ita saltem intelligibilia superat] as the intelligible world excels
the perceptible world [quemadmodum ab his sensibilia superantur].'
Chapter 40: Next, Plato's two paths to the First; and the two names
of the First [Rursus duae Platonis ad primum vise. Duo nomina primi]
`Plato rises to the Supreme by two paths [Plato per duas ad summum
vias ascendit]: by the path of analogies in the Republic [per
comparationes quidem in Republica] and by the path of negations in
Parmenides [per negationes autem in Parmenide]. Both the analogies
and the negations [Utraeque pariter tarn comparationes quam
negationes] affirm that God is set apart from all beings and from
all intelligibles [declarant Deum esse tum ab omnibus entibus et
intelligibilibus segregatum], and that He is also the beginning of
creation [turn etiam principium universi].'
`He defines God as the sole beginning of everything, totally simple
and totally supreme [Deum principium omnium unicum, simplicissimum,
eminentissimum esse designat].'
Chapter 41: Some Platonic discussions follow which show that the One
is the beginning of all things, and that the One Itself, the Good,
is above being. The First Discussion [Secuntur discursus Platonici
probantes unum esse principium omnium, et esse ipsum unum bonumque
superius ente. Primus discursus]
Chapter 42: The Second Discussion on the same subject [Secundus ad
idem discursus]
The One indwells all things both individually and collectively
[omnibus et singulatim et summatim inest unum]; and with the very
multitude [et in ipsa multitudine] which seems opposed to the One
[quae uni videtur opposita], the One Itself makes the multitude
[unum ipsum conficit multitudinem], for what is a multitude but one
repeated over and over again [quid enim aliud multitude est nisi
aliquod saepius repetitum]?'
`This One, therefore [Hoc igitur unum], which is absolutely common
to all [omnibus communissimum], derives its existence from the
simple One which is the most common of all [ab ipso tandem existit
simpliciter uno omnium communissimo].'
Chapter 43: The Third Discussion on the same subject. Also on the
simplicity of the first and the last [Tertius ad idem discursus. Ac
de simplicitate primi et ultimi]
`In the hierarchy of the universe [In ordine universi] there is the
first and there is the last [ad primum pervenitur et ultimum], and
each of these is of necessity [utrumque necessario est] one and
simple [unum atque simplex], devoid of multiplicity [multitudinis
expers].'
`Certainly matter is in the highest degree one in its ability to
receive form [Est certe materia maximum unum scilicet formabile],
just as the first being [sicut ens primum] is in the highest degree
one in its power to impart form [maxime unum est formale]. But
neither of these is the simple One Itself [Neutrum vero est ipsum
simpliciter unum].'
Chapter 44: The Fourth Discussion on the same subject; and on the
contemplation of the Good [Quartus ad idem discursus, et de
contemplatione boni]
Tor these reasons [Propterea] we consider the One Itself and the
Good to be absolutely identical [ipsum unum bonumque idem prorsus
esse coniicimus].'
Chapter 45: The Fifth Discussion on the same subject; and on the
naming of the First [Quintus ad idem discursus, et de appellatione
primi]
Chapter 46: The Sixth Discussion on the same subject; and what is
chosen is not simply being, but well-being and the Good [Sextus ad
idem discursus. Et quod non eligitur simpliciter esse, sed bene esse
atque bonum]
Chapter 47: The Seventh Discussion on the same subject; and how the
cause of being differs from the cause of the Good [Septimus ad idem
discursus. Et quae differens ratio entis atque boni]
`The Good is therefore higher than being [bonum igitur ente
superius].'
Chapter 48: The first principle of the universe is the simple One
Itself, the first in every rank, and most truly One. On the sun, on
nature, on intellect [Principium universi est ipsum simpliciter unum
principium in quolibet ordine quod ibi est maxime unum. De sole,
natura, intellectu]
`Just as division is the worst condition for all things [Sicut
pessimum omnibus est divisio], dragging everything to ruin [ad
exitium singulal, trahens], so union is the best condition [sic
optimum est unio]: union o the parts with each other [et partium
invicem] and with the whole [et ad totum], and of the whole with its
cause [et totius ad causam suam], which is its origin and nature [et
originem atque naturam].'
Chapter 49: The first principle`of creation is unity and goodness,
above intellect, life, and essence [Primum rerum principium est
unitas bonitasque super intellectum, vitam, essentiam]
Chapter 50: The unity above essence; the unities within essences;
the gods; the general aim of Parmenides in his hypotheses [De
unitate`super essentiam. De unitatibus in essentiis. De diis. De
communi intentione Parmenidis in suppositionibus suis]
`Just as simple unity itself is above universal being [Sicut ipsa
simpliciter unitas est super ens universum], so in the hierarchy of
creation [ita in ordine rerum] the unity of every being [sua
cuiusque entis unitas] is to some extent higher than its essence
[quodammodo est essentia sua superior].'
Chapter 51: Plutarch's analysis of the hypotheses of Parmenides
[Dispositio propositionum Parmenidis apud Plutarchum]
`That this dialogue was held to be divine among the ancients is
attested by Plutarch [Dialogum hunt divinum apud veteres iudicatum,
testis est Plutarchus].'
Chapter 52: The meaning of the negations and of the affirmations
within the hypotheses. Which ones are dealt with and in which order
[Quid significent in suppositionibus negationes. Quid affirmationes.
Quae et quo ordine tractentur in eis]
`Since the first hypothesis [Quoniam vero suppositio prima] focuses
attention upon the simple One Itself [colit ipsum simpliciter
unum], which is higher than being [ente superius], it negates all
the conditions of beings with respect to the One [ideo omnes ab eo
entium conditiones negat], which is detached from all things [est
enim ab omnibus absolutum], being their final principle [tanquam
principium finale], a principle which is especially — even
predominantly — efficient [praecipue et eminenter efficiens].'
`The first hypothesis [suppositio prima], if we are allowed to
believe the ancients [si antiquis licet credere], deals with the way
in which the first God creates and orders the respective hierarchies
of gods [tractat quomodo primus Deus singulos deorum ordines
procreat atque disponit]; the second hypothesis treats of the divine
hierarchies [Secunda vero de divinis ordinibus], how they have come
forth from the One [quomodo processerunt ab uno], and of each
essence [et de qualibet essentia] that is conjoined by God to every
unity [unicuique Deo unitati videlicet coniugata]; the third
hypothesis [Tertia] deals with those souls [de animabus] which do
not possess substantial divinity [Deitatem quidem ipsam
substantialem non habentibus] but do have a manifest likeness to the
gods [sed similitudinem ad deos expressam]; the fourth hypothesis
treats of material forms [Quarta deformis materialibus], how they
proceed from the gods [quomodo pro- ficiscuntur a diis], and which
ones depend on which respective order of gods [et quae proprie ab
unoquoque deorum ordine pendent]; the fifth hypothesis deals with
primal matter [Quinta de materia prima], how it is not composed of
formal unities [quomodo formalium unitatum non est compos] but
depends on the unity that is above essence [sed desuper ab unitate
superessentiali dependet], for the action of the first One extends
right through to final materialisation [nam usque ad materiam
ultimam unius primi actio provenit], which in all manner of ways
sets limits to the unlimited nature of the One through particular
participation in unity [interminatam illius naturam, per quandam
unitatis participationem quoquomodo determinans].'
The First Hypothesis (Chapters 53-79)
Chapter 53: The Aim, the Truth, and the Arrangement of the First
Hypothesis [Intentio, veritas, ordo suppositionis primae]
Chapter 54: When the characteristics of beings are negated 1 with
respect to the One, this indicates that the One surpasses and
creates all these [Ubi entium proprietates de uno negantur,
significatur ipsum haec omnia antecellere atque procreare]
Affirmations concerning almighty God [Affirmationes circa summu
Deum] are very misleading and dangerous [fallaces admodum peri-
culosaeque sunt], for in our everyday affirmations we usually think
of a particular type and characteristic to name and define something
[solemus enim in quotidianis affirmationibus nostris certam quandam
speciem proprietatemque concipere, et appellare aliquid alteri atque
definire]. But to do this in relation to the First is unlawful [Hoc
autem agere circl primum, nefas].
Chapter 55: On the one being. On the simple One Itself.
On the aim of Parmenides both here and in his verses.The aim and
conclusion of his negations [De uno ente. De ipso simpliciter uno.
De intentione Parmenidis hic et in poemate. Intentio et Epilogus
negationum]
`Perhaps it would now be useful to repeat briefly [Operaepretium
forte fuerit repetere breviter in praesentia] what we have said many
times before [quod saepe iam diximus]: the principle of unity
[rationem unitatis] is different from the principle of being [a
ratione entis esse diversam].'
Chapter 56: On the universal being and its properties; and why these
are negated with respect to the First. Which multiplicity is
negated, and why it is negated [De universo ente et proprietatibus
eius. Et quomodo negantur de primo. Et quae multitudo negatur et
quare negatur]
Chapter 57: Through the negation of all multiplicity, parts and
totality are negated with respect to the One: number is prior to
essence, and all multiplicity partakes of unity. The first essence,
life, and mind are identical [Per negationem multitudinis negantur
de uno partes et totum. Numerus est ante essentiam. Omnis multitudo
particeps unitatis. Idem est prima essentia, vita, mens]
Chapter 58: An opinion affirming the abstracts of abstracts with
respect to God. Again, negations and relations about God are safer
[Opinio affirmans abstractorum abstracta de deo. Item tutiores sunt
negationes relationesque circa deum]
Chapter 59: If the One has no parts, it follows that it has no
beginning, no end, no middle [Si unum non habet partes consequenter
nec habet principium vel finem aut medium]
Chapter 60: In what way the One Itself is called the limitless and
the limit of all [Quomodo ipsum unum dicatur infinitum, omniumque
finis]
Chapter 61: How shape is negated with respect to the One, as well as
straight lines and circular lines [Quomodo negatur de uno figura et
rectum atque rotundum]
`Indeed, movement is the beginning of differentiation [Processus
quidem discretionis principium est].'
Chapter 62: The One Itself is nowhere, because it is neither within
itself nor within something else. How discrete things are said to
exist of themselves or to be produced from themselves [Ipsum unum
nusquam est. Quia nec est in se ipso nec in alio. Item quomodo
separata dicuntur ex se
ipsis existere vel produci]
Chapter 63: How the One is said to neither move nor rest; and how
movement and rest are in everything except the First [Quomodo unum
neque moveri neque stare dicatur et quomodo sit motus et status in
omnibus praeter primum]
`In our Theology [In Theologia nostra] we have shown [probavimus]
that in everything after the First [in omni re post primum] there is
a differentiation of these four [quatuor haec inter se differre]:
essence, being, power, and action [essentiam, et esse, et virtutem,
et actionem].'
And so the Good Itself, the One Itself [Ipsum itaque bonum unumque],
creates and perfects all things, not through something else, but by
its own unity and goodness [non per aliud, sed ipsa unitate
bonitateque facit et perficit omnia].'
Chapter 64: The One moves neither in a circle nor in a straight line
[Unum neque circulo movetur nec in rectum]
Chapter 65: How stillness is negated with respect to the One
[Quomodo negatur de uno status]
Chapter 66: The five kinds of being; the three levels of negations;
the ten predicates negated; a few words on the same and the
different [Quinque genera entis. Tres negationum gradus. Decem
praedicamenta negata. De eodem alteroque nonnihil]
Chapter 67: The One is neither different from itself nor the same as
the different, but is completely free of all conditions [Unum nec a
seipso alterum est, nec idem alteri, et ab omnibus conditionibus est
absolutum]
Chapter 68: The One is not different from other things [Unum non est
ab aliis alterum]
Chapter 69: The One is not the same as itself [Unum non est sibi
ipsi idem]
Chapter 70: The One is neither similar nor dissimilar to itself or
to anything [Unum nec est simile neque dissimile vel sibi vel
cuique]
Chapter 71: The One is neither equal nor unequal to itself or to
others [Unum nec sibi nec aliis est aequale vel inaequale]
Chapter 72: Confirmation of the above [Confirmatio superiorum]
`The principle of equality is different from the principle of the
One [Alia aequalitatis alia unius ratio est], for the One is
absolute [unum enim est absolutum], while equality is relative
[Aequalitas relativa], since equal is related to equal [aequale enim
ad aequale refertur].'
Chapter 73: In relation to itself and to other things, the One
cannot be younger or older or of the same age [Unum neque iunius
neque senius neque coetaneum vel ad se vel ad alia esse potest]
Chapter 74: The One Itself is above eternity and time and movement.
It cannot, on any basis, be said to be within time [Ipsum unum super
aeternitatem et tempus et motum est. Nec ulla ratione esse in
tempore dici potest]
Chapter 75: A rule for relatives, with some confirmation of what has
gone before [Relativorum regula cum confirmatione quadam superiorum]
Chapter 76: Since the One is above time, it transcends the
conditions of time and of things temporal [Cum unum sit supra
tempus, consequenter conditiones temporis temporaliumque excedit]
Chapter 77: The One Itself does not partake of essence; it is
neither essence itself nor being itself, but is far higher [Ipsum
unum nec est essentiae particeps, nec ipsa essentia nec ipsum esse.
Sed longe superius]
Chapter 78: How essence, or being, is negated with respect to the
One; and why the One cannot be known or named [Qua conditione
negatur essentia vel esse de uno. Item quare cognosci vel nominari
non possit]
Chapter 79: On the unshakeable nature of the first hypothesis. The
One is higher than being [De firmitate suppositionis primae. Et quod
unum ente superius]
The Second Hypothesis (Chapters 80-95)
Chapter 80: The aim of the second hypothesis [Secundae suppositionis
intentio]
Chapter 81: In the same being there is the principle of the One and
there is also the principle of being. The whole has parts and
infmite multiplicity [Quomodo in uno ente alia sit ratio unius alia
entis sit, totum panes habeat et multitudinem infmitam]
Chapter 82: Within the one being all the numbers are held by means
of two and three. The numbers are prior to the development of the
one being into many beings [In uno ente per binarium et`ternarium
omnes numeri continentur. Qui numeri distributionem entis unius in
entia multa praecedunt]
Chapter 83: How essence, together with the One, is distributed in
the intelligible world, and how multiplicity is either limited or
unlimited [Quomodo in mundo intelligibili dividatur
essentia simul et unum, multitudoque finita vel infinita sit]
Chapter 84: Within the intelligible world the multiplicity of parts
is subsumed in a double form of the whole; it has limits and a mean,
as well as forms [Quomodo in mundo intelligibili partium multitudo
sub gemina totius forma concluditur. Quomodo terminos mediumque
habet atque figuras]
Chapter 85: The one being is within itself and within something
other than itself [Quomodo unum ens in se ipso sit et in alio]
Chapter 86: The one being is always unmoving, and yet it moves
[Quomodo unum ens stet semper atque moveatur]
Chapter 87: The one being is the same as itself and different from
itself. Again, it`is the same as other things and different from
them [Unum ens est sibimet idem atque alterum. Item caeteris idem
atque alterum]
Chapter 88: The one being is similar to itself and to others; it is
also dissimilar to itself and to others [Unum ens et ad se ipsum et
ad alia simile est atque dissimile]
`In the Philebus it is shown [In Philebo probatur] that within all
things subsequent to the First [in omnibus post primum] there are
simultaneously the One and multiplicity [esse unum simul atque
multitudinem]. It follows that within all things [Igitur in omnibus]
there are the same and the different [est idem et alterum], the
convergent and the divergent [convenientia atque differentia], and
therefore similarity together with dissimilarity [igitur similitudo
simul et dissimilitudo quaedam].'
Chapter 89: How the one being touches and is touched; but it neither
touches nor is touched insofar as it belongs to itself and to other
things [Quomodo unum ens tangit et tangitur. Neque tangit, neque
tangitur, quantum ad se et ad alia pertinet]
Chapter 90: The one being is both equal to itself and unequal to
itself; it is also equal to others and unequal to others [Quomodo
unum ens sit aequale, vel inaequale sibi, vel aliis]
`Now anyone who does not know how to make use of such rigorous
exercises [Qui autem discretiones eiusmodi uti nescit] is not a
Platonist [non est Platonicus] and never uses the intellect [nec
unquam utitur intellectu].'
`Moreover, as we have indicated from the outset [Praeterea
quemadmodum significavimus ab initio], he (Parmenides) conducts the
whole discussion [totam disputationem agit] as an exercise in logic
[ut logicam exercitationem quandam]. But in this form of dialectic
[ Sub hac vero Dialectica forma] he often commingles mystical
teachings too [mistica quoque dogmata frequenter admiscet], not in a
continuous unbroken sequence [non ubique prorsus continuata], but
sporadically [sed alicubi sparsa], as befits an exercise in logic
[quatenus admittit exercitatio logical.'
Chapter 91: The one being, in relation to itself and to all else, is
numerically the same. It is also both more and less [Quomodo unum
ens sit numero par: et plus et minus ad se ipsum atque caetera]
Chapter 92: How the one being, in relation both to itself and to
everything else, may be described as older and younger and of the
same age [Quomodo unum ens dicatur senius et iunius atque coetaneum
ad se ipsum atque caetera] `Remember, too [Memento rursus], as we
have advised you to do from the beginning [quemadmodum admonuimus ab
initio], that Parmenides is here taking up the divine soul, in
addition to the intellectual nature and the animate nature
[Parmenidem hic ultra naturam intellectualem, animalem, iam assumere
animamque divinam].'
Chapter 93: How older becoming is distinguished from younger
becoming, and also how older being is distinguished from younger
being. Concluding words on the one being [Quomodo distinguitur
senius iuniusve fieri, rursus senius iuniusve esse. Ac de uno ente
conclusio]
Chapter 94: A summary or review of the second hypothesis. On
distinguishing the divinities [Summa vel Epilogus suppositionis
secundae. De distinctionibus divinorum]
Chapter 95: The distinctions made in the summary or review. On the
one being; on multiplicity; on limitless number; and on the orders
of the divinities [Summae huius vel Epilogi distinctiones. De uno
ente multitudine, numero, infinito, ordinibus deorum]
The Third Hypothesis
Chapter 1: The aim of the hypothesis. How the soul may be called
being and also non-being. On movement and time within the soul. On
its eternal quality. How it manifests all things through some change
in itself [Tertia suppositio. Intentio suppositionis. Quomodo anima
ens dicatur atque non ens. De motu et tempore in anima. Item de
quodam eius aeterno. Rursus quomodo commutatione quadam sui ipsius
omnia repraesentet]
`Just as the soul consists of opposites [quemadmodum anima
componitur oppositis], as we have shown in the Timaeus [ut
probavimus in Timaeo], so the third hypothesis [ita suppositio
tertia], which examines the soul [tractans animam], is a mixture of
affirmations and negations [ex affirmationibus negationibusque
miscetur].'
The Third Hypothesis
Chapter 2: Why the celestial soul moves and makes an orbit around
the steadfast mind. How many movements of the soul there are. The
number of movements and the stillness within time. Concerning the
mean between movements [Qua ratione caelestis anima circa mentem
stabilem moveatur, agatque circuitum. Quot sint motus animae. Quod
motus et quies in tempore; et de medio inter motus]
The Third Hypothesis
Chapter 3: A summary of the third hypothesis: or concluding words on
the One, multiplicity, being, non-being, movement, stillness,
moment, time, and oppositeness. The movement towards movement and
towards stillness [Summa suppositionis tertiae vel Epilogus. De uno,
multitudine, ente, non ente, motu, statu, momento, tempore,
oppositione. Motus ad motum atque statum]
The Fourth Hypothesis
Chapter 1: The aim of the fourth hypothesis. The whole before the
parts. The whole after the parts. Divine matters. Natural matters.
The relation of the parts to the whole [Suppositio quarta. Quartae
suppositionis intentio. Totum ante partes. Totum post partes. Res
divinae. Res naturales. Relatio partium ad totum]
`The three previous hypotheses, as we have said elsewhere [Tres, ut
alibi diximus, praecedentes suppositiones], contemplate the One
Itself rather than all else [unum ipsum potius quam alia
contemplare], and they relate the One to itself first of all, and
then relate it to all else [illud ad se in primis, deinde ad caetera
quoque comparaverunt].'
The Fourth Hypothesis
Chapter 2: On multiplicity and its relation to the One.
On the unlimited and on limit. On the elements of beings. On other
things that are mutually opposed [De multitudine, quomodo se habeat
ad unum. De infinito et termino entium elementis. De caeteris inter
se oppositis]
The Fifth Hypothesis
Chapter 1: The aim of the fifth hypothesis. On the One. On things
separate from the One. Whether the One is in accord with them. On
omniform being. On formless matter [Suppositio quinta. Quintae
suppositionis intentio. De uno. De aliis ab uno. Utrum unum cum his
conveniat. De omniformi ente. De informi material
The Fifth Hypothesis
Chapter 2: Confirmation of the above, and how matter has no formal
conditions within itself. Also, where it comes from, how it is
formed, and how it moves [Confirmatio superiorum, et quomodo materia
formales in se conditioner nullas habeat. Item unde sit, vel
formetur vel moveatur]
The Sixth Hypothesis
Chapter 1: The aim of the sixth hypothesis. In what way Parmenides
is poetical. More on being and non-being [Sexta suppositio. Sextae
suppositionis intentio. Et quomodo Parmenides poeticus. Item de ente
atque non ente]
Parmenides not only expounded the mysteries of philosophy as a
philosopher but also sang them in verse as a divine poet
[Parmenides non philosophus tantum, sed etiam poeta divinus,
carminibus philosophica mysteria cecinit]. And in this dialogue,
too, he plays the part of the poet [Atque in hoc dialogo agit quoque
poetam]. For, like a poet, he cultivates the number nine [Novenarium
enim quasi poeta colit numerum], which, as it is said, is sacred to
the Muses [musis (ut dicitur) consecratum]. By means of nine
hypotheses [Per novem sane suppositiones], which are like the nine
Muses [quasi per novem musas], the guides to knowledge [scientiae
duces], he leads us to truth and to Apollo [ad veritatem
Apollinemque nos ducit]; for while he is moving towards the simple
One Itself [dum enim ad ipsum provehit simpliciter unum] he seems to
be advancing I towards Apollo [ad Apollinem promovere videtur], the
name by which the followers of Pythagoras mystically designate the
simple One Itself [Quo nomine Pythagorici sui solent ipsum
simpliciter unum mystice designate]; for Apollo, as Plato and his
followers teach, signifies the simple Absolute devoid of
multiplicity [Quippe cum Apollon (ut Platonici quoque cum Platone
docent) absolutorem significat simplicem a multitudine segregatum].'
`So far he has gone through five hypotheses that assume the One to
be [Hactenus quinque suppositiones si unum sit peregit]. But from
this point onwards [Deinceps vero] he adds four hypotheses that
assume the One not to be [quattuor si unum non sit adiunget].'
`Finally, in this sixth hypothesis, he imagines the one being, the
intellectual , nature, not to be [Fingit denique in hac suppositione
sexta unum ens, id est naturam intellectualem ita non esse]; but in
such a way that it partly is and partly is not [ut partim quidem
sit, partim vero non sit]. But in the seventh hypothesis [In septima
vero] he is more at liberty to imagine that it absolutely is not [
licentius fingit omnino non esse], for he is clearly in a position
to understand the absurd conclusions that arise from both
propositions [quid utrumque sequatur absurdi facile deprensurus].'
The Sixth Hypothesis
Chapter 2: How the One, which is called non-being, may also in some
way be understood as being. How this kind of non-being is
recognised. Concerning the soul [Quomodo unum dum dicitur non ens,
possit etiam quodammodo ut ens intelligi. Et quomodo non ens
eiusmodi cognoscatur, et de anima]
The Sixth Hypothesis
Chapter 3: How the One which is called non-being is the nature of
the soul; why it is subject to movement; knowledge concerns this
non-being; to it belong change, multiplicity, and characteristic
features [Quomodo unum quod dicitur non ens sit natura animae, qua
ratione mobilis est, de hoc non ente est scientia, huic competunt
alteritas et multitudo, et signa significativa]
The Sixth Hypothesis
Chapter 4: Around this non-being One stand dissimilarity,
similarity, inequality, equality, largeness, smallness, and, in some
measure, essence. Also concerning the soul [Circa hoc unum non ens
existunt dissimilitudo, similitudo, inaequalitas, aequalitas,
magnitudo, parvitas. Essentia quodammodo et de anima]
The Sixth Hypothesis
Chapter 5: Around this non-being One exist being and not-being,
movement, change, and annihilation, together with their opposites.
More on the soul [Circa hoc unum non ens existunt esse atque non
esse, motus, alteratio, interitus atque horum opposita et de anima]
The Seventh Hypothesis
The aim of the seventh hypothesis. Concerning the levels of the One,
of being, and of non-being. How all things are negated with respect
to the One and with respect to non-being [Suppositio septima.
Septimae suppositionis intentio. De gradibus unius et entis atque
non entis. Quomodo negantur omnia, de uno atque de non ente]
`In the seventh hypothesis [in suppositione septima] we consider the
one being not only to have fallen of itself into a soul subject to
movement [unum ens non solum in animam per se mobilem degeneratum
excogitamus], and not only to have been cast into a flux that is
dependent on something external`[nec solum in fluxum ab alio
dependentem praecipitatum], but also to have been finally released
into total non-being [sed in ipsum omnino non ens denique
resolutum]; strictly speaking, to have fallen into nothingness
[Proprie forsan in nihilum iam prolapsum], but metaphorically to
have been restored, as I might say, to the simple One Itself
[metaphorice vero in ipsum simpliciter unum (ut ita dixerim)
restitutum].'
Tor my part [Ego equidem], I strive as far as I can to harmonise
individual items and to deduce possibilities [singula ferme pro
viribus accommodare studeo, et probabilia facere], so that, when he
makes suppositions, his suppositions do not seem rash [saltem ne ubi
fingit, temere fingere videatur]. For your part [Tu vero], learn to
understand the reasonings on both sides in any subject [disce in
materia qualibet et utrinque arguments captare] and to distinguish
the two meanings [et utrobique distinguere sensus], and thus avoid
being obliged to admit impossibilities [ne impossibilia cogaris
admittere].'
The Eighth Hypothesis
Chapter 1: The aim of the eighth hypothesis. If mind is removed and
soul remains, soul will be deceptive and will abide in the realm of
shadows [Octava suppositio. Octavae suppositionis intentio. Si mens
auferatur supersitque anima, haec erit mendax et versabitur circa
umbras]
The Eighth Hypothesis
Chapter 2: If you remove the One, all things will cease; they will
be shadowy multitudes; the inconceivably infinite will merge with
their opposites about the same; and faltering imagination will be
ever deceitful [Si substuleris unum, res ipsae desinent. Umbratiles
erunt turbae, innumerabiliter infinitae, contingent apposita circa
idem. Imaginatio ambigua semper erit mendax]
The Ninth Hypothesis: The aim of the ninth hypothesis [Suppositio
nona. Nonae suppositionis intentio]
After such words [Post haec eiusmodi] the conclusion of the whole
book is reached [affertur totius libri conclusio]. If the simple One
Itself [Si ipsum simpliciter unum], from which arises the one being
and from which comes each particular everywhere [a quo est ens unum.
Ex quo tandem est ubique quodlibet unum], be removed from the
universe [ex universo tollatur], there will be absolutely nothing
anywhere [nihil penitus usquam erit].'
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 1 hShepheard-Walwyn)
Problems that trouble people in heart and mind during the Italian
Renaissance are much the same as today. In trying to cope with them,
many leaders of the period turned to the priest, Marsilio Ficino for
spiritual guidance. Through these letters he advised, encouraged,
and occasionally reproved them. Fearlessly he expressed the truth of
a universal religion and this wisdom influenced manyn He numbered
statesmen, popes, artists, scientists, and philosophers amongst his
circle. As Paul Oskar Kristeller makes clear below the Letters of
Marsilio Ficino represent a essential core of his thought and
influence as a chief architect of the Platonic and Hermetic revival,
the philosophical and revelatory center of the new learning that was
revamping religious vision and humanistic enquiry Italian
Renaissance. The translations and commentaries Ficino produced
reshaped the contours of Western thought. His work remained central
for several centuries until more critical and skeptical styles of
enquiry eclipsed his achievement and its unique synthetic voice. The
letters are masterpieces of spiritual direction in what we now would
call, a “neoplatonic style” of spirituality. Ficino is wise,
temperate, mystical, moderate, subtle, ascetic, stylish, practical,
contemplative, and devoted to truth and morality. The letters show
the human face of the philosopher as he struggles with this emerging
spiritual vision. At the same time the letters reveal a life fully
embroiled in the manifold machinations and controversies of his
times. Anyone who has an interest in the Italian Renaissance, in
neoplationism and the hermetic tradition, and especially in the
practical application of spiritual truths to everyday life will find
these volumes a unique treasure trove insight and guidance as useful
today as when penned over five centuries ago.
This edition, many years in slow laborious production, is a work of
devotion to translation and careful scrutiny of the text. The
anonymous translators provide careful notes to each letter,
identifications of the correspondents, essays to the themes of each
book and necessary historical background, bibliography for each
Ivolume, and beginning in volume 5, reproduction of the Latin text
and corrections.
***
Excerpt from Paul Oskar Kristeller Preface to volume 1: The Letters
occupy in fact a very important place in Ficino's work. As
historical documents, they give us a vivid picture of his personal
relations with his friends and pupils, and of his own literary and
scholarly activities. As pieces of literature, edited and collected
by himself, the letters take their place among other correspondences
of the time and are a monument of humanistic scholarship and
literature. Finally, the letters are conscious vehicles of moral and
philosophical teaching and often reach the dimensions of a short
treatise. This intention is made explicit in the title attached to
each letter which is due to the author himself and not to a later
editor.
Ficino began to collect his letters in the 1470's, gradually
arranged them in twelve books, had them circulated in numerous
manuscript copies, and finally had them printed in 1495. The first
book contains letters written between 1457 and 1476, and its
manuscript tradition is especially rich and complicated. These
letters derive great interest from the time of their composition,
for they were written at the same time as some of the commentaries
on Plato and as the Platonic Theology, Ficino's chief philosophical
work. The correspondents include many persons of great significance:
Cosimo and Lorenzo de' Medici, and members of other prominent
Florentine families, allied or hostile to the Medici at different
times: Albizzi and Pazzi, Soderini and Rucellai, Salviati and
Bandini, Del Nero, Benci and Canigiani, Niccolini, Martelli and
Minerbetti. There are two cardinals, Francesco Piccolomini, the
later Pius III, a famous patron and bibliophile, and Bessarion, the
great defender of Platonism. There is Bernardo Bembo, Venetian
patrician and ambassador, Giovanni Antonio Campano, bishop and
humanist. Francesco Marescalchi in Ferrara, and Giovanni Aurelio
Augurelli from Rimini. There are the friends of Ficino's youth,
Michele Mercati and Antonio Morali called Serafico, and his
favourite friend, Giovanni Cavalcanti. There are philosophers and
physicians, and there are numerous scholars, of different
generations, who occupy a more or less prominent place in the annals
of literature: Matteo Palmieri and Donato Acciaiuoli, Benedetto
Accolti, Bartolomeo Scala and Niccolò Michelozzi, all connected with
the chancery, Cristoforo Landino, Bartolomeo della Fonte and Angelo
Poliziano, Francesco da Castiglione, perhaps Ficino's`teacher of
Greek, and Antonio degli Agli, bishop of Fiesole and Volterra,
Jacopo Bracciolini the son of Poggio, and Carlo Marsuppini, the son
of the humanist chancellor of the same name, Benedetto Colucci and
Lorenzo Lippi, Domenico Galletti and Francesco Tedaldi, Antonio
Calderini and Andrea Cambini, Cherubino Quarquagli and Baccio
Ugolini, known for their vernacular verse, and a number of Latin
poets: Peregrino Agli, Alessandro Braccesi, Amerigo Corsini, Naldo
Naldi and Antonio Pelotti. The book also includes several pieces
that are important compositions in their own right: the dialogue
between God and the soul (4), on divine frenzy (7), on humanity
(55), on the folly and misery of man (57-59), on the use of time
(82), on law and justice (95), on happiness (115), the theological
prayer to God (116), and the praise of philosophy (123).
The translators have pursued their task with enthusiasm, and if I
may judge from the sections I examined, successfully. In the absence
of a critical edition, they have not relied on the 1576 edition of
Ficino's works which has been recently reprinted and offers a rather
corrupt text, but on the first edition of 1495, and have collated
one or two of the better manuscripts, at least for some of the
difficult passages. I have encouraged them to follow accuracy as
their chief goal, though not at the price of clumsy style.
The translation will not replace the original Latin text for
scholarly purposes—no translation ever does and, in view of present
attitudes, this simple truth cannot be repeated often enough. Yet
the translation will be useful for all scholars working with the
text, for it will clarify obscure passages and often correct the
readings found in the most accessible editions. Above all, the
translation will make available to students and lay readers an
important document of Renaissance thought and literature that would
otherwise not be accessible to them, and thus enrich their taste,
their knowledge and their outlook.
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 2 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
Excerpt: Marsilio Ficino of Florence (1433-1499) seems to have been
a man of this stature. The influence he had on the Renaissance, and
consequently upon the culture in which we live, has been discussed
in the Introduction to the translation of Book I of his Letters.'
Not only did he translate into Latin all the works of Plato, but he
restated the principles upon which the ancient philosopher wrote, in
such a way that they took life in the hearts of many of the leading
men of his time. His letters show that his words still have the
power to give these principles life today.
Ficino makes some demands on the reader of this book—perhaps more
than are made upon the readers of Book I of his Letters. Ficino
warns us about this in his own preface to Books III and IV of the
Letters, which is a dedication to King Matthias of Hungary (letter
I). He writes of these books that he seems to have been 'pregnant
with a frigid seed, so to speak, and to have produced rather more
austere books of letters than is becoming to literary children'. But
in the King's presence . . . their 'rather gloomy countenance' may
be `instantly transformed so that they may seem thereafter
altogether brighter and more joyful to those who behold them. But
you, I pray, most fortunate King, may you look upon the sons of
Marsilio . . with the joyful and lively rays of your eyes, as you
are wont to look on all other things. For thus they will owe their
existence only to me, but their beauty wholly to your royal
majesty.'
It is always easy to be deceived by the elegance of Ficino's
compliments into looking no further into what he is actually
saying. King Matthias was no ordinary king. After surmounting great
difficulties in securing his throne in Hungary, he became one of the
very few Christian leaders ever to defeat the Ottoman Turks
decisively during the period of their empire's almost continuous
growth from the early 1300s to the death of Suleiman I in 1566. King
Matthias was also a devotee of philosophy, keenly interested in the
practical study of Plato. Members of Ficino's Academy dwelt at his
court and an invitation to visit this court was extended to Ficino
himself. Ficino in fact regarded him as a model of the philosopher
king referred to in Plato's Republic.
But what does Ficino mean when he writes of the 'countenance' of his
'sons' being 'instantly transformed' in the presence of the King?
First of all he hoped that the philosophy contained in the letters
would be given life by the actions and example of the King. But in
addressing the King, Ficino is also addressing all his other
readers. Clearly Ficino meant that his readers should put this
philosophy into practice.
In order to understand what Ficino is saying we need to be wary in
interpreting some of the idioms he used which have lost their
original force. This applies particularly to the letters which
Ficino writes on love. To a modern reader his language may sound
fulsome. But it is important to remember that, when, for instance,
he addresses his `unique friend', Giovanni Cavalcanti, as his only
care and his only solace (letter 4), he is in reality addressing the
principle of truth which is the real self both of Ficino and his
friend.5 Looked at in this way such letters offer us an
understanding of friendship totally different from the usual one.6
Such friendship is in no way exclusive; indeed it will be noticed
that Ficino apparently addresses a number of friends in similar
style. In fact he is addressing precisely the same 'unique'
principle in each; a principle which he understood as embracing
everybody and everything. He writes in letter 2 i : 'And so by
loving the beloved steadfastly in this way, the lover, as far as his
arms may reach, embraces the all-embracing and is secure in
possessing his own possessor.'
Ficino's Academy was consciously modelled on the philosophic schools
of antiquity. It was not merely an institute of learning.' The bond
between Ficino and the other members was their mutual love, based on
the love of the Self in each. It was by means of this love that the
soul was seized by God, drawn towards Him, and finally united with
Him. In fact this love itself was also God. It was because such love
was the basis of his School that Ficino could write (letter 21):
'the desire of him, who strives for anything other than love, is
often totally frustrated by the event. But he alone who loves
nothing more than love itself, by desiring immediately attains, and
in always attaining continues to desire.'
Because the object of love is God, the manifestation of God is
always the object of Ficino's praise. However abundant is his
praise, it is always quite specific. He gives unbounded praise to
the faithfulness in the faithful (letter 58), to the dutifulness in
the dutiful (letter 53), to the piety and learning in those who are
pious and learned (letter 7), and this volume abounds with other
examples. Equally, when he rebukes it is the fault he censures, not
the man. And his rebukes while pointed are yet given with love (see,
for instance, letter 46).
Another Marsilian style of writing to which we are not so
accustomed today is irony. Too easily may we, for instance, mistake
his letter to Jacopo, the Cardinal of Pavia (letter 54) as abject
humility when he writes: 'Lofty as you are, yet you have from afar
seen Marsilio, so near the ground and insignificant.' He often jokes
about his small physical stature, and in this letter he may be
having some fun at the expense of his correspondent and possibly
offering a measure of reproof to the Cardinal for his 'loftiness' in
the only way a parish priest could reprove a cardinal in the 15th
Century. Ficino uses a more overt irony against the opponents of
Philosophy in letter 34 to Lorenzo de' Medici.
In Book III Ficino makes frequent use of the imagery of astrology.
For him the movement of the heavenly bodies was a most clear
demonstration of the perfect order by which the universe is
governed. Each heavenly body was a representation of a quality of
the angelic mind, and their relative movements illustrated the
ordered interaction between the qualities. What the minds of men
experience on earth is simply the counterpart of these movements in
the heavenly world. These movements are wholly in accord with the
Good, but most men interpret them as good or bad, basing their
judgements on what their physical effects appear to be.
Ficino never carries the imagery of astrology beyond a certain
point. Sometimes he appears to dismiss the astrological argument
altogether." He never wishes anyone ever to believe that their
happiness in any way depends upon the stars. Moreover, while
astrology rules fortune, a man who allows divine providence to guide
him is independent of fortune, even in physical terms.
Why then does Ficino use the language of astrology so frequently? In
a letter to Poliziano of 1494 he writes: 'It is not so much
astronomy I teach, but rather by means of astronomy I search out
moral allegories and anagogues leading to the divine.' Clearly, he
thought that an understanding of the principles of the divine mind
through astrology could help to lead men to knowledge of themselves
and of God.
What is difficult to convey in any translation of Ficino is the
beauty of his language. In letter 3 he explains to Bartolomeo della
Fonte that he followed the command of heaven as well as the example
of Plato and many others in weaving 'poetic rhythms and numbers'
into his prose. The skill with which he combines words of similar
sounds, and plays with words of similar sound but different meaning
are at times strangely Shakespearian. 'If you break faith with me,
the strings of your lyre will sound completely out of tune to you'
(letter 8) cannot convey the force of `Si fidem fregeris, fides tibi
penitus dissonabunt'.
These letters give the impression that in terms of worldly
prosperity the years 1476-1477 were not very easy ones for Ficino.
His relationship to his patron, Lorenzo de' Medici, does not seem
to be as intimate as in earlier years, if one may judge by the tone
of the correspondence in Book III compared to Book I. Several
letters, notably 9 and 10, indicate that Ficino was being pressed
for money by the papal authorities which he would have been unable
to pay. Letter 17 seems to be a request for some kind of support
from Antonio degli Agli, the Bishop of Volterra. During these years
both Ficino and his Platonic Academy were under attack from various
quarters. Perhaps the most violent of these attacks was launched by
the author of the satirical poem Morgante, Luigi Pulci, whose
surname (which means `fleas' in Italian) Ficino found in letter 5 to
be happily appropriate to Pulci's character and talents. In spite of
Ficino's counter-attacks the poet who had lampooned Ficino and the
Academy remained in favour with Lorenzo de' Medici.
In spite of all these difficulties Ficino's literary output remained
prodigious. He was writing a number of theological essays (Opuscula
Theologica) mentioned in letter 26. It`appears from letter 37 that
he was still revising his major work, the Platonic Theology (divided
into eighteen books). About the same time he had also started to
revise his translations of the works of Plato, and was preparing his
Disputatio Contra Iudicium Astrologorum.
But more extraordinary than the volume of his writings is their
range and penetration. Perhaps nowhere is this better illustrated
than in his long letter on Duty (letter 53) where he defines duty as
'the action proper to each man, which keeps to what is fitting and
honourable as circumstance, person, place and time require'. Taking
this as his starting point he proceeds to define the duty of over
thirty professions or functions of Man.
What was the principle that enabled him to see so clearly the nature
of the different functions of Man and their relationship to each
other and to the whole? It is the principle to which he repeatedly
returns in this volume; the principle of unity. He returns to it not
just as a philosophical concept but as an immediate perception. It
was because he was rooted in this unity that he understood the one
function of all the activities of Man—to lead the soul back to
unity. In letter 3o he writes: 'Our Plato has persuaded me that I
would in the end accomplish most if I always did the same thing. .
. . Assuredly a man who pursues everything achieves nothing; for
many obstruct one, whereas one serves and unites many'. It was
because he spoke from this point that his Academy was able to unite
men of so many different professions: statesmen, poets, scholars,
lawyers, musicians, priests, doctors and many more. It was the same
spirit which inspired the Renaissance in all its many different
activities. It was thus that the 'Golden Age' could rise from the
shadow of the 'Iron Age'. Ficino writes some years later to Paul of
Middelburg (`distinguished scientist and astronomer'): 'Some men are
endowed by nature with a bronze intellect, some with an iron one,
some with a silver, and some with a golden one. If any age can be
called a golden one it is undoubtedly the one that produces minds of
gold in abundance. And no one who considers the wonderful
discoveries of our age will doubt that it is a golden one. For this
golden age has restored to the light the liberal arts that were
almost extinct: grammar, poetry, rhetoric, painting, sculpture,
architecture, music and the ancient art of singing to the Orphic
lyre.'
The purpose of Ficino in writing these letters is evidently to
kindle the love of truth in men and to set their minds upon its
search. Whoever he may be addressing individually, each letter is
written also for humanity. In fact a number of letters both in Books
I and III are specifically addressed to Mankind. Nor is his address
limited to the 15th Century. Because he discusses with such insight
questions of unceasing interest to men, in a sense his letters are
outside time.
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 3 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
Excerpt: THIS is the third volume of letters translated by the
Language Department of the School of Economic Science. It
represents the fourth book of Ficino's Epistolae, covering mainly
the period from 1st March to 1st August, 1477. A number of letters,
however, fall outside this period, notably the letters in praise of
philosophy (letter 13) and of medicine (letter 14), which were
written as speeches, presumably to academic audiences, in Ficino's
youth. The last two letters in the volume were written in 1478 and
1479 to Platonists in Hungary. They were originally included in the
fifth and sixth books respectively, but were transferred when Books
III and IV (volumes 2 and 3 of the present translation) were
presented to King Matthias of Hungary.
The period covered by this volume of letters is that leading up to
the Pazzi conspiracy against the rule of the Medici. In the
conspiracy, which was followed by a war against Florence waged by a
powerful alliance of states led by Pope Sixtus IV, Lorenzo de'
Medici's brother, Giuliano, was murdered in Florence Cathedral and
Lorenzo himself was wounded. Two of Ficino's correspondents,
Francesco Salviati and Jacopo Bracciolini, were executed for
complicity. Although Ficino would not have known of the plan to
murder the Medici, a letter in this volume (letter 36) to
Bracciolini seems to indicate that he did know of the conspirators'
hostile intentions, and a further one to Pace (letter 8), written
less than a fortnight before the attempt, shows that he understood
that war would be the inevitable consequence of their disaffection.
In Ficino's letters to Salviati and Bracciolini it is clear that he
is persistently and strongly discouraging them from taking any rash
action.
During the period covered by the letters in this volume Ficino was
working on a revision of his translations of Plato's dialogues and
his commentaries on them. The whole of Book IV (volume 3)
concentrates, even more than the first two volumes, on the
philosophy of Plato. Some of the letters consist largely of
passages taken from the dialogues. The largest single letter, about
a quarter of the volume, is a life of Plato, based mainly on
Diogenes Laertius. This life also forms the introduction to Ficino's
translation of the dialogues of Plato. It furnishes some
interesting parallels with Ficino's own life, as described in the
biography by Giovanni Corsi, which is included, partly for this
reason, at the end of this volume. Both philosophers led celibate
and ascetic lives. Both had close relations with heads of state,
whom, to some extent, they influenced by their philosophy. Ficino
regarded the life and character of Plato as his model. He wrote in
the proem to Book 2 of De Vita Libri Tres (Opera p. 509), 'Although
the spirit of our Plato lives and will live as long as the world
itself shall live, yet my spirit always impels me, after worshipping
the divine, to observe the life of Plato above all else.' Ficino
consciously based his academy on that of Plato, as it is described
by the ancient Platonic writers, and devoted his whole life to
making the philosophy of Plato a living philosophy to his
contemporaries.
A central theme of this volume is the liberation of Man through
philosophy. Both the passages which he quotes in full from the
dialogues—the analogy of the cave (letter 26) and the many-headed
beast (letter 27)—relate to this. Above all, the letter on the
nature and education of a philosopher (letter 18) delineates the
precise steps by which a man is freed from desire, so that he may
attain know-ledge of Truth.
Figure SEQ Figure \* ARABIC 1: Plato’s Horoscope According to
Ficino
During the period covered by the letters in this volume Marsilio
Ficino was working on a revision of his translations of Plato's
dialogues and his commentaries on them. The whole of Volume 3
concentrates, even more than the first two volumes, on the
philosophy of Plato. Included also in this volume is a biography of
Marsilio Ficino by Giovanni Corsi, specifically included in fact
because it demonstrates some interesting parallels with the life of
Plato. Ficino regarded the life and character of Plato as his model
and wrote : "although the spirit of our Plato lives and will live as
long as the world itself shall live, yet my spirit always impels me,
after worshipping the divine, to observe the life of Plato above all
else."
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 4 (Liber V)
(Shepheard-Walwyn) Excerpt: Ficino's correspondence is extraordinary
because the same letters combine the most sublime teaching for
mankind with eminently practical advice for individuals. Nowhere is
this more clear than in the present volume, which covers the period
September, 1477 to April, 1478, months which gave rise to tragic
events for the whole of Florence and in particular for a number of
leading citizens who were also Ficino's correspondents. These events
were the outcome of the Pazzi Conspiracy (discussed on pp. 73-91) in
which Giuliano de' Medici was assassinated in Florence Cathedral,
and from which his brother Lorenzo only just escaped. Immediately
afterwards a large number of the Pazzi dependants, some quite
innocent, were brutally executed or murdered. The real causes of
this event were selfishness, greed and materialism in those places
from where spiritual leadership should have come. It was symptomatic
that those most involved in the conspiracy included a pope, a
cardinal, an archbishop and two priests. A further cause was the
breakdown of the respect for law and tradition and an absence of
restraint: features usually found in times of gross materialism.
It was therefore to reawaken spirituality and, with that, respect
for both divine and human law, that was Ficino's work. To a
generation which had become largely disillusioned with the
leadership of the higher ranks of the church the teaching of Plato,
with its emphasis on the divinity of the individual soul, was the
ideal means.
The theme of this volume of letters is that the truth is the unity
and that only by the acknowledgement of this truth can man be freed
from misery. In a letter to Michaeli (i8) Ficino writes: 'He who
simply pursues the One itself, in that One soon attains everything.'
In fact it is not even necessary to pursue that which is everywhere,
as he reminds us in Letter 5: 'Then let us not be moved or
distracted by many things, but let us remain in unity as much as we
are able, since we find eternal unity and the one eternity, not
through movement or multiplicity, but through being still and being
one.' He reminds us again and again that when we love any individual
good thing it is the One Good itself, namely God, which we really
love in that thing. 'Without the love of that One we seem to love
something,' he writes in Letter 19, 'but, since we try to love
outside love itself, instead of loving we are bound to hate.'
Love seems to spring from these pages of Ficino's letters and it was
by this love that he bound his academy and his correspondents to
himself. The whole creation is a product of love and it is through
love that creation returns to that One, (which, as Ficino has
explained, it has never really left). He refers to this in Letter 19
when he writes, 'Just as beauty follows the light of the good as its
splendour, so the ardour of love follows the rays of beauty as the
reflection (or return) of those rays.' The end of love is therefore
union. Friends are thus united to each other through their love of
God.' This union between Ficino and his friends is frequently
referred to in these letters and such references should certainly
not be thought of as a stylistic flourish. The love of one friend
for another is 'poured in its entirety' into the other's 'very
self'. After that the lover has nothing left to give, because he has
long ago given himself, and with himself all that he has.'
Such love expands to love of humanity as a whole. Indeed it is the
Latin form of this word (humanitas) which Ficino uses to mean `the
love of mankind'? Our use of the word humanities simply to convey
studies based on Latin and Greek and a humanist as one who is versed
in these studies, shows a descent in the power and meaning of
language. Ficino commends Bernardo Bembo more than any of his
correspondents for his humanity and speaks of its enormous power. He
says that if the Venetians really wanted to conquer distant or
rebellious peoples, they would not send a Pompey or a Caesar but
Bembo, since he would conquer more people more effectively with his
humanity than they would with their arms. The Venetians may even
have taken him at his word.' Love is the principal means by which
Man may discover his own nature. Another aspect of the word humanity
is that it is human beings alone who have this power. In Letter 6 he
writes to Cavalcanti words which seem to express the whole spirit of
the Renaissance: `Men are the only beings on earth to have
rediscovered their infinite nature'.
Because the love of divine beauty could be kindled by beautiful
sights and sounds,' Ficino regarded the creation of works of art and
music as of great spiritual importance. In particular in Letters 46
and 51 he makes it clear that there is a precise correspondence
between beauty in specific parts of the body and specific mental
qualities. Such qualities could be inspired by the contemplation of
their physical counterpart. The description of Venus in Ficino's
letter to the young Lorenzo di Pierfrancesco de' Medici may have
inspired Botticelli's Venus in the Primavera (See Letter 46 and
notes). However that may be, the descriptions of beautiful physical
beings in both Letters 46 and 51 are clearly given to inspire the
appropriate qualities in Ficino's correspondents, who were intended
to reflect on such forms. Ficino himself played the lyre to charm
his listeners away from the concerns of the physical world. For
instance, when members of his Academy were discussing in melancholy
mood the Turkish threat to Europe, Ficino took up his lyre and by
his playing dispelled their depression.'
The penalty for man is that if he does not set out to realise his
`infinite nature', his lot is far worse than that of beasts." 'Why
should we be surprised', he writes in Letter 18 to Michaeli, 'if all
evils pursue us, when we ourselves, abandoning the first good,
namely God, wrongly pursue individual things as good'. The first
step is to stop pursuing the objects of sense as though they were
good in themselves. In Letter 7 he speaks of 'the worried life of
the man who serves the senses as though they were many mad masters.'
Above all, we should practise the virtue of patientia, which has
been translated as patience. The word in Latin includes the meaning
of sufferance, as well as suffering and is connected with the word
passion, as in the passion of Christ. It also includes forbearance
in the sense of forbearance to react in response to injury. But
Ficino means more than this. The wise man realises that his own will
cannot in reason be different from God's, so he makes those things
`which fate has decreed to be inevitable . . . agreeable to his own
will'. The argument with which Ficino puts this advice forward in
Letter 33 is a model of clarity and logic. The letter is addressed
to Francesco Sassetti, the General Manager of the Medici bank, which
as Lorenzo's rule continued became involved in increasing
difficulties.
The first letter in the volume is a very strongly worded letter on
the need to trust in divine law. As the main troubles that took
place over the period when these letters were written arose from the
setting aside of the law for reasons that may have seemed eminently
justifiable, this letter is very significant. The edition of the
letters printed in Venice in 1495 adds the words 'most reverend' to
the word 'friends' to whom the existing manuscripts have the letter
addressed. If the letter was originally addressed to his 'most
reverend' friends, these were probably Cardinal Raffaele Riario and
Archbishop Francesco Salviati, who were involved in the Pazzi
Conspiracy and for whom the letter would have been particularly
appropriate.
Another quality on which Ficino lays particular emphasis in this
volume is that of temperance. Ficino gives the Latin temperantia for
the Greek word. Socrates in the Republic" says a state or man is
temperate when that part of the soul 'which is better by nature has
the worse under its control' and where there is no internal conflict
between the ruling element and its subjects. Temperantia is perhaps
best expressed in modern English by the word restraint. Ficino ends
his letter to Sebastiano Foresi (II) with the application of this
virtue to music when he writes: 'May the well-tempered lyre always
be our salvation when we apply ourselves to it rightly.' More
specifically he writes to the young Cardinal Riario (Letter 27),
shortly to come so near to execution for implication in the Pazzi
Conspiracy: 'Temper both the desires of the mind and all your
actions lest, when all external things are in harmony for you, the
mind alone be in discord.'
His warnings to Riario and Salviati are often sharp and specific, as
though he could see the nature of the schemes that were fermenting
in the minds of the conspirators (it is difficult to believe the
accepted view that Riario was entirely innocent. See p. 86). Again,
in Letter 27 Ficino urges Riario 'not to make a start on anything'
unless he can see that 'the end is both good and well-assured.' His
letter (34) to both Riario and Salviati is even more pointed. One
must remember that they had both recently had strokes of good
fortune. Riario had been appointed Cardinal in December, 1477 and
the year before Salviati had been allowed to take up his position as
Archbishop of Pisa, having been previously excluded for two years by
Lorenzo de' Medici (see p. 76). Ficino writes to them, with numerous
examples to prove his case: 'By some foolish, or rather unhappy,
fate . . . most mortals make more perverse use of prosperity than
adversity'. He then explains the reason: 'Let us remember that the
nature of evil is to offer itself to us daily under the guise of
good'. It is then 'very easily taken in . . . and given lodging as
if it were the good; but soon after, it secretly strikes down" its
unwary host with a sword, as he deserves.'
In conclusion, these letters arouse our interest in a number of
ways. They shed a new light on what was going on in Florence at this
time, including for instance the relationship between the government
of Lorenzo de' Medici and the Florentine clergy (see p. 100). They
show how a non-political philosopher with no worldly ambitions yet
found himself advising the two main factions' struggling for
political power in Florence. Finally, they show through Ficino the
noble countenance of Plato, expanding men's view of their own
nature, raising their ideals and aspirations and setting in the
arts, literature, education and society as a whole new standards
that were to last for many centuries.
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 5 (Liber VI)
(Shepheard-Walwyn) Excerpt: IN this volume Marsilio Ficino enters
upon a fascinating correspondence with some of the most powerful
leaders in Europe. Following the Pazzi Conspiracy of 1478, Florence
was at war with both the Pope (Sixtus IV) and King Ferdinand of
Naples (Ferrante). Ficino wrote eloquent letters to all three
protagonists in the war: no fewer than three letters to the Pope,'
one intended for King Ferrante of Naples,2 and one to Lorenzo de'
Medici, the ruler of Florence. These letters were no doubt prompted
by the appalling conditions under which Florence suffered as a
result of the war. There are several references to these conditions,
notably in Letter 31 to Bernardo Bembo. But perhaps more important
than even the relief from physical hardship was the need for
Ficino's Academy to continue its work of bringing to life once more
the teaching of Plato.
What is of great interest is the way in which Ficino guides the
warring leaders back to peace. In all three cases he does it by
reminding them of their real nature. Yet what he says is specific to
each individual. To the Pope, who was the force behind the Pazzi
Conspiracy and the main architect of the war, Ficino stated in
magnificent terms the true work of the Pope: to fish in the 'deep
sea of humanity', as did the Apostles, to whom Jesus gave the three
baits of reverence for God, integrity of character and good deeds
towards men. Jesus also gave them three nets: the first was ardent
love, so that they would love all men as themselves; the second was
loving-kindness, so that they might forgive all people as their own
children; and the third was service so total that it brought good
'not only to those who do good but also to those who do evil'. This
re-statement of the papal function was entirely appropriate for
Sixtus, who had approved the Pazzi plot to eliminate the Medici and
who, when the assassination attempt on Lorenzo failed, first put
Florence under interdict and then made war upon her in the company
of the King of Naples)
The fact that the three letters to Sixtus read as a supreme, perhaps
intentional, irony shows the depths to which the Papacy had sunk,
and illustrate both the background and necessity for a renaissance.
Moreover, these letters from Ficino were to the man who later
initiated the glories of the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican and after
whom the Chapel was named!
King Ferdinand of Naples must be amongst the least likeable of
tyrants. He spent his life in intrigue not only against other states
but also against his own barons, to whom he was utterly ruthless.
Yet Ficino addresses him in the words of his father, the admirable
King Alfonso, whom Ficino represents as established in the
'super-celestial paradise', whither he invites his son, 'if he is
willing'. 'Here, my son,! says Alfonso, 'one lives the truest,
clearest, best and most joyful life, where all life is nothing but
truth, clarity, goodness and joy in its fullness. Here in that
immeasurable light of lights we see all the lights of the ideal
forms, and in those lights we behold everything as it really is,
just like someone seeing in the sun all the rays emanating from it
and in those rays all the individual colours which are created from
them.'
Alfonso goes on to speak of his son's destiny on earth. After
observing, 'I see that you will quickly carry out my advice', he
adds, `In peace alone a splendid victory awaits you, a victory full
of triumphs without danger; in victory, tranquillity; in
tranquillity, a reverence and worship of Minerva (wisdom).
Negotiations for peace were, in fact, begun about five months later.
To Lorenzo de' Medici Ficino writes a letter of great penetration.
There were two sides to Lorenzo's nature. First, there was the lover
of philosophy and companion of Ficino. This was the Lorenzo through
whom came some of the finest Italian poetry ever written. A good
example of his philosophical poetry is Altercazione, which is based
on a discussion with Ficino. This was the Lorenzo who guided the
State of Florence with courage and wisdom through her greatest
crises. But there was another side which distracted him into revels,
romps and carnivals, while the affairs of the Medici bank, upon
which not only the prosperity of the Medici but also to some extent
the whole of Florence depended, went into serious decline.
Ficino presents him with 'a picture of the evil mind and the good'.
This first is 'a wood dense with tangled thorns, bristling with
savage beasts, infested with poisonous snakes. Or it is like a
swelling sea, tossed by battling winds, waves and wild storms.'
`On the other hand, a mind endued with fine principles . . . is like
a well-tended and fertile field, or a calm and peaceful sea.'
Ficino was presenting the two sides of Lorenzo's nature to him with
dramatic clarity. It may have been after this letter was written
that Lorenzo saved Florence's freedom from extinction by boldly
crossing the enemy's siege lines and presenting himself at the court
of King Ferdinand to negotiate peace. He could have perished
miserably in a dungeon, a fate not so unusual for visitors to
Ferdinand's court, but in fact the negotiations resulting from his
visit brought peace to Italy.
Just as the good doctor prescribes remedies which address precisely
the illness from which the patient suffers, so the real philosopher
insists upon those virtues which overcome the vices he sees in front
of him. In the midst of division and war Ficino insists on the
reality of unity and peace. He uses a number of analogies. He speaks
in at least two letters of all the colours emerging from simple
white light, as all the variety of the universe issues from one
consciousness. He also writes of the universal harmony, pointing out
that the man who takes no pleasure in concordant sounds lacks
concord within and that he is no friend of God, 'for God rejoices in
harmonies to such an extent that he seems to have created the world
especially for this reason, that all its individual parts should
sing harmoniously to themselves and to the whole universe; indeed
the universe itself should with all its strength praise in concert
the intelligence and goodness of its author.
There are powerful letters on the impure and illusory nature of this
world and the call to philosophy." Letter 48 compares men on earth
to actors on the stage. They 'can enjoy themselves without fear of
consequence.' They can exult without being envied and take on the
parts of rich men although they may be slaves. In tragedies they can
grieve without being unhappy. Ficino continues, 'We would think the
actors foolish and pitiful if they were so taken in by the good and
bad events on the stage that they were at one moment exulting and
rejoicing and at the next weeping, as though these events were
real.'
What, then, is the truth? Few philosophers have ever dared to say.
But when Ficino's nephew writes 'unvaryingly about the
changeability of things', he receives in reply a magnificent
statement about the truth." 'I consider that which does not vary to
be nothing other than truth . . . Truth is eternally present and
neither passes from the past into the present nor flows from the
present into the future. It is certainly nothing other than the
eternal unmoving itself. The mind therefore, with its natural
capacity for truth, partakes of this eternal unmoving . . . Only a
life dedicated by choice to the study and cultivation of truth is
lived in the fullness of bliss beyond movement and beyond time.'
The last letter in the volume is an extraordinary one about the
return of Dante to Florence. Dante had died in 1321 during exile in
Ravenna. He had not been allowed to return to Florence in his
lifetime and the citizens of Ravenna have been unwilling to give up
his remains ever since. What, then, did Ficino mean? Ostensibly he
was praising the magnificent commentary on Dante's Divina Comme, dia
by Cristoforo Landino which had just been published. But the
language of the letter seems to be speaking of something more vast.
Look up for a moment, my people, look up at the heavens. Behold now,
behold! While our Dante is being crowned here, the dome of mighty
Olympus is opening. The flames of the Empyrean heaven, never seen
more fully, blaze before us this day in honour of Dante's
coronation.
And what do you think this sound is, so fresh and so sweet, that is
filling our ears? Undoubtedly, it is the sound of the nine spheres
and their Muses, a sound heard in no other age and in no other
place, now openly celebrating the coronation of Dante. Ah! Hear the
sweet songs of the Dominions singing from the sphere of Apollo; hear
now the wonderful hymns of the Archangels singing from the sphere of
Mercury: 'Glory to supreme Apollo in the highest! Everlasting glory
to the Muses! Glory to the Graces! To the Florentines, rejoicing in
their double sun, peace, joy, and good fortune!'
This letter seems to be a celebration of the revival of all the arts
in Florence at this time, and thus it is a hymn of praise to the
Renaissance itself.
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 6 (Liber VII)
(Shepheard-Walwyn) Excerpt: The letters in the present volume (Book
VII in the Latin editions of Ficino's letters) were written in the
years 1481-83. This was a period of major warfare in Italy. The
resulting disturbance and suffering are reflected in a number of
Ficino's letters.
Hardly had Pope Sixtus IV lifted the interdict imposed on Florence
as a result of the war following the Pazzi Conspiracy' when his
ambitious nephew, Girolamo Riario, began scheming to extend Papal
control in the Romagna and the Duchy of Ferrara. In 1481 his forces
took the town of Forli, which thereafter remained under papal
government. It was thought that the next object of his attack would
be Faenza, a town menioned twice in this volume, and one of
considerable importance to Florence, as it secured her outlet to the
Adriatic Sea. But in the event Riario, having seized control of
For11, planned an attack on Ferrara, seat of the d'Este family, with
a view to carving out from that duchy further territory for papal
control. For this purpose the assistance of Venice was necessary
and, as the Serene Republic was tempted by the possibility of
acquiring territory in the north of Ferrara, such assistance was
forthcoming. Venice, supported by Pope Sixtus IV, declared war on
Ferrara in May, 1482.
Milan, Naples and Florence were all alarmed at the prospect of
Venetian expansion. They therefore entered the war in support of
Ferrara, and Federico, Duke of Urbino, was appointed to lead the
allied forces against Venice. From this time until the end of
hostilities two years later, Lorenzo de' Medici, the ruler of
Florence and Ficino's patron, was actively engaged either in
prosecuting war or endeavouring to bring about peace.
The Duke of Calabria, son of the King of Naples, came within a short
distance of Rome before being totally defeated by the opposing
general, Roberto Malatesta. The Duke of Urbino endeavoured to resist
the Venetian attack on Ferrara but had little success since the
Venetians acquired considerable tracts of Ferraran territory.
Ficino felt naturally drawn to Federico of Urbino since not only had
he been a highly successful condottiere but he had also been much
attracted to the teaching of Plato. In Letter 33 Ficino refers to
Federico as 'invincible', while in Letter 23, Ficino writes to him
that 'dukes and kings, confident of a happy outcome are time and
again handing him the spear of Pallas and the club of Hercules, the
club which rules the Italian war.' However, as has been remarked,
the confidence placed in his military success by the allies and by
Ficino was not justified by events. Federico died in September,
1482, on the same day as his adversary, Malatesta.3 His death made
it very difficult for Ficino to recover the books that he had sent
to be copied at Federico's court, as we learn from Letter 33.
Early in 1483 the Pope, alarmed at the progress of Venetian arms
through Ferrara, changed sides and solemnly put under interdict
those very allies on whose side he had just been fighting. It became
clear that the Venetians could not resist such a powerful alliance,
and peace was made at the Congress of Cremona in August, 1484.
Although the Ferraran war was never as critical for Florence as that
which had followed the Pazzi Conspiracy of 1478-8o, it inevitably
created difficulties for Ficino, as it did for Florentines in
general. In spite of the remonstrances of his friends, as noted in
Letters 6 and 8, it is clear that he spent almost all his time in
the country at his estate in Careggi. Although this gave him more
time for the important works he was now engaged upon, it would have
meant that his contacts with the leading citizens of Florence,
particularly the Medici, were reduced. The meetings of influential
friends to discuss and study Plato which constituted the Academy
would have been more difficult to arrange.
Even before the war had broken out it is clear that the Feast Day of
Cosmas and Damian was not being celebrated as it had been
previously. These celebrations had been of especial importance to
Cosimo de' Medici and Ficino had promised that they would continue
after Cosimo's death. As is shown in Letter 7, one of the very few
letters written to Lorenzo in this period, this promise was not
being fulfilled. This letter was written before the formal
declaration of war, for it was composed on the Feast Day of Cosmas,
27th th September, 1481. This suggests that Lorenzo was already
distracted by the grave political situation.
The war must also have cut Ficino off from the members of his
Academy who were in Venice. The strong misgivings Ficino had about
the war are reflected in Letter 26, written to Pietro Molin of
Venice shortly after the declaration of hostilities between Venice
and Ferrara. He writes: 'God ever save you, beloved Pietro, and may
your saving presence ever continue to keep us safe. As long as you
do us this honour, so long shall we think ourselves worthy of
honour. We shall be pleased with our city if we know that you are
pleased with it. May what we do be more to your liking each day;
then each day we, too, shall be more to our own liking.' In the
event the Venetians found what the Florentines were doing was very
far from their liking. In many ways Lorenzo was the architect of the
alliance against Venice, just as he later became the architect of
the peace.
From Ficino's letter to the Papal Commissioner at Forli, dated 15th
June, 1483 (letter 41), it is clear that the clergy had suffered
grave financial hardship as a direct result of war. Ficino writes:
'every day the property of religious men is being carried off to the
men of Mars'. He is no doubt writing for all the clergy of Florence
when he continues: `would that the heavenly rule were established
anew so that, just as Jupiter once yielded to Mars, Mars may in time
be compelled to give way to Jupiter! Not until Jupiter reigns
supreme can we expect good men to prevail.' Ficino may have been
hoping that the burden of tax might soon be lightened for, now that
he was fighting on the same side as Florence, the Pope was
presumably to receive again the proceeds of the taxes due to him.
The next two sentences of the letter may look forward to the removal
of Sixtus IV as Pope, or at least to a total change in his attitude.
Ficino continues: 'It so happens that within two years ... a great
planetary conjunction will bring this about or, to speak more
accurately, will show that it is happening.' By August, 1484 Sixtus
was dead and had been succeeded by the peace-loving Innocent VIII.
The increasing time that Ficino was spending at his country villa in
Careggi may have been partly because the Academy might no longer be
able to meet regularly in Florence (because of the war and the
plague), but it certainly furnished an opportunity for completing
some of his most important books. In Letter 27 he writes to his
'unique friend' Giovanni Cavalcanti in the summer of 1482: 'At dawn
today I was totally absorbed in completing the Theology, the sacred
work which I have been labouring over for a long time. No one, not
even those closest to me, dared to interrupt me then.' Clearly, he
was working flat out on this, his greatest work, very close to the
time of publication in November, 1482. He was also working on a
number of short treatises, one of which, the Star of the Magi,
appears as an appendix in this volume. This enormous workload may
have had an adverse effect on a constitution that was never very
strong. He appears to be writing of himself when he says to Giovanni
Cavalcanti in Letter I: 'But how will you acquire wisdom from a man
who has never had a sound body or a sound mind within it?' ...
Recently, since he was suffering not a little from weakness, firstly
of spirit, then of stomach and lastly of all parts of his body, he
had a change of air but not of soul.'
Ficino may have been led by this experience to completing the first
of his Three Books on Life[see below], a major work dealing with the
care of the health of those who study philosophy. As his preface
makes clear, he initially intended the first book to appear as the
first letter in this volume, but it had grown too large and thus had
to be published as a separate work.
In the midst of the troubles that Northern Italy was undergoing it
seemed appropriate to Ficino to restate the kernel of Plato's
teaching. It is perhaps no coincidence that the title of Letter I is
'Wisdom comes from God alone'. Certainly it was not coming from
Sixtus, the spiritual head of Christendom. Ficino writes: 'All the
sacred writings of the Jews and Christians proclaim that wisdom
cannot be learnt unless God be the teacher.'
Ficino, like Plato, constantly speaks of the unreality of the
material world, which is just a shadow or reflection of a divine
world. Ficino insists that we should flee from the one to the other,
a message that must have been particularly appealing in the harsh
times of the early 148os. Perhaps this was particularly so, in
relation to Sarzana, a town which had been seized from Florence by
petty lordlings, the Fregosi brothers, during the War of the Pazzi
Conspiracy and was not returned to Florence until 1486. In Letter 5
Ficino writes with approval to Antonio Ivani of Sarzana: `I observe
that you judge the very best way of living to be one that is far
removed from this dead life in which the mortal continues to live
and the immortal somehow dies. This is so, as long as the heavenly
soul is joined to the earthly body, not only once, initially by
nature, but in being given over to it every day by desire.'
The fact that the soul is heavenly, that is divine, is fundamental
both to Plato and to Ficino. The soul is of course one's very self.
He writes about 'a friend' to Bernardo Bembo of Venice in Letter 4.
This friend may be Bernardo, Ficino or perhaps Venice herself.
Ficino claims to have addressed the friend thus: 'From whom are you
fleeing, unhappy Narcissus? Foolish man, you are fleeing from
yourself to follow another who is fleeing even faster than you, and
whom you will never be able to catch once you have forgotten your
own self Alas, foolish Narcissus, what are you losing? Unhappy man,
you are totally losing your own self by which you might reach the
shadow, albeit a fleeting shadow which you cannot embrace. But since
love has a habit of transforming the lover into the beloved, loving
a shadow, Narcissus, you will shortly be turned into a shadow!'
The analogy Ficino gives for the substance of this divine soul is
that of pure light. This is why in Letter 36 he addresses his
'fellow philosopher,' Lotterio Neroni, as 'a man of pure light.' By
'pure light' he means 'pure consciousness'. However much this
substance is given to others, it can never be diminished; rather it
grows more intense. This is the message he is sending to Lotterio
Neroni in Letter 29.
How, then, does the soul seem to forget its divine nature? Ficino
answers this question in Letter 4o to Jacopo Antiquari, Secretary to
the Duke of Milan, by reference to the three parts of the soul
described by Plato in the Republic: understanding, anger and desire.
But Ficino divides 'understanding' into 'contemplation' and
'action'. He then writes that the Platonists 'refer to mind which
simply contemplates by the name of Saturn, and they call mind
occupied in actions Jupiter. They consider a heart hardened by anger
to be Mars, and one softened by pleasure to be Venus.' Everything
depends upon which principle the mind is turned towards. Ficino
concludes: 'For those who unreservedly subject desire, anger and
action to contemplation, events turn out every
day as they would wish.' Ficino makes it abundantly clear that there
are two ways (in reality one way) by which the soul may come to
realise its own divine nature: religion and philosophy.
The letter written to Antonio Zilioli of Venice (Letter 18) has the
title, 'Philosophy and Religion are true sisters'. By emphasising
both here and in other letters how the ancient philosophers such as
Pythagoras and Plato gave thanks and praise to God, he shows that
they were also religious. In Letter 10, written to Lorenzo de'
Medici, he seems to explain how this works in astrological or
mythological terms: `Jovian Mercury [that is a Mercury well aspected
to Jupiter], always there with his quickening movement, urges you to
inquire unremittingly into the truth of things. Then the Sun by his
light opens the way to every discovery for you who seek. Lastly,
Venus with her gracious charm always makes whatever has been
revealed beautiful.' Such beauty, of course, inspires love and
praise, which are the very essence of religion.
Letter 18, which has already been referred to, throws similar light
on the complementary nature of religion and philosophy. Here Ficino
writes: 'It is the work of the true philosopher always to search out
the particular principles and causes both of the parts and of the
whole, and also to teach them; then in finding the real principles
and causes of things he should finally ascend to the highest
principle and cause of all.' Then he must 'lead everyone else with
him to the realms above'. Of religion he simply writes: 'The whole
universe in every part cries out that we should acknowledge and love
God'. How closely the poet George Herbert echoed this view in the
seventeenth century: let all the world in every corner sing, My God
and King!'
Ficino ends this book, as he ends Books Three to Six, with a paean
of praise and love. It is in the end through Love that one find
union with God: 'I, like fire, illumine men's understanding and set
their wills on fire. But you can become divine, not because you seek
my light for the sole purpose of understanding, but because you seek
out my heat with a burning will.'
One aspect of this volume is the relatively large proportion devoted
to astrology. The longest letter, Letter 17, is devoted to this
subject, and the even longer appendix, The Star of the Magi, covers
much of the same ground. Ficino seems at pains in these short
treatises to show that the stars cause nothing in the universe. This
is especially true in relation to the nativity of Christ and to all
events of a religious significance. Such events arise directly from
the will of God Himself, and God is above the heavens and totally
independent of them. What, however, the configurations of the stars
may do for those who have a true understanding of them is to
indicate what is happening in the celestial world and therefore what
is happening or about to happen on earth. One seems to be arriving
at an Hermetic image of the universe where all events are
inter-related; every detail has macrocosmic significance. Every
minute detail is the will of God and as such takes place in the
heavens but is mirrored upon earth. Ficino says many times in
previous volumes that the wise man makes his own will conformable to
the will of God and that, for him, events which are inevitable
become voluntary. In times when Florence was for so long at war with
the Pope, Ficino no doubt also desired to show that his views on
astrology were not heretical.
It remains to consider an aspect of Ficino's writing which appears
particularly in this volume. This is the allegorical style in which
he clothes much of his wisdom. Eight letters are entitled Apologus,
which has been translated as 'fable', and there are others of an
allegorical nature. The six fables which run from Letters i i to 16
have been illustrated specially for this volume. They seem to have a
common theme: the dangers of falling into bad company and being
consequently corrupted. The first note to letter II explains how the
form of the fable was being revived in the fifteenth century and how
Ficino thought it was important that fables should be used for a
spiritual purpose. But a fable by definition has more than one
level. It could certainly bear a political as well as a spiritual
interpretation. Letters 11 to 16 were written between October, 1481,
and January, 1482. This was while Riario was negotiating to bring
Venice into a war for the purpose of partitioning the Ferraran
territory between them. Riario was certainly bad company for Venice
to keep!
Ficino had important Venetian friends who might have had an
influence on the direction that Venetian foreign policy took. The
most influential was Bernardo Bembo, a previous ambassador to
Florence, and now the Podesta in Ravenna. There was also Ermolao
Barbaro, the distinguished scholar and diplomat, who was shortly to
become a Venetian senator.
In moments of crisis Ficino did not neglect the interests of his
country as his letters to the enemies of Florence clearly show
before and after the Pazzi Conspiracy (see note on 'The Pazzi
Conspiracy and Ficino' in Letters 4, and Historical Note in Letters
5). Yet if he wrote a letter to Venetians openly pleading the cause
of Florence`and the letter fell into the wrong hands, he could
injure rather than help the cause and perhaps endanger the position
of his correspondents themselves.
Yet would not these dangers be obviated if Ficino could conceal his
message within the terms of a fable that only he and his
correspondents would fully understand? This would be especially the
case if the fables were written without an addressee. The fables
composing Letters 1 1 to 16, which seem particularly relevant to the
political situation, have no addressees, whereas Letters 22 and 23,
which are fables, are addressed to the Duke of Urbino.
However, the letters in this volume do have a strong Venetian
element. Apart from the correspondence with Bernardo Bembo, there
are letter to Antonio Zilioli and Pietro Molin. Letter 2 to Bernardo
Bembo is particularly significant. In it Ficino writes that 'the
longer he [Ficino] keeps his own counsel and says nothing,`the more
clearly he discerns it is better to be silent than to speak. He also
understands that there are very few things that we can give worthy
expression to, that we should say in honesty or may say in safety.'
In letter 11,`the first fable, Ficino explains how Apologus wanders
away from his guardian, Apollo, into the woods, which in Ficino's
writings can symbolise darkness and ignorance 7 and partakes of
coarse food given to him by certain 'shepherds'. He would have
become coarse himself had not his guardian Apollo led him back to
the Pythian Gardens. Significantly, in the fable Ficino mentions
that the Pythian Gardens are now called Pinthian' by the people of
Florence. These gardens belonged to Bartolomeo Scala, who had a
house in the Borgo Pinti, in whose gardens Ficino's Academy
sometimes met. The patron of the Academy was, of course, Lorenzo de'
Medici. There were other clear allusions to Lorenzo. The emblem of
Lorenzo was the laurel, as his name was derived from the word
laurus, meaning 'laurel' in Latin. It seems clear that Apollo in
this fable stands for Lorenzo. It was Lorenzo who could lead the
Venetians back to their erstwhile ally Florence, from the darkness
of war to the light of peace. The following five fables could all be
given a similar interpretation: they were advice to the Venetians,
or in the case of Letter Is, to the citizens of Faenza, to support
Lorenzo rather than Riario.
However, it is at the spiritual level now that these fables are most
significant. They seem to convey the most important message that
human souls should turn from the coarse pleasures of the material
world to the serenity of the spirit; that they should remember the
true good which they once knew and find their way back to it through
the light of the divine sun.
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 7 (Liber VIII)
(Shepheard-Walwyn) This seventh volume of Marsilio Ficino's letters
sheds new light on the life and intellectual development of one of
the Renaissance's leading figures. As head of the Platonic Academy
in Florence, Ficino helped set the intellectual and spiritual
foundations of the Italian Renaissance, the reverberations of which
were felt throughout Western Europe for centuries to come. Ficino's
letters offer key insights into this philosophical and artistic
movement and into the lives of the extraordinary people who led it.
Noted correspondents include Giorgio Antonio Vespucci, uncle of the
navigator and explorer Amerigo Vespucci, after whom America is
named.
Excerpt: THE letters in this volume were written between 1484 and
1488. These were particularly busy years for Marsilio Ficino. In
November 1484 his translation of Plato's Dialogues from Greek into
Latin was published, together with his commentaries upon these
works. Immediately he turned his attention to the translation of
Plotinus, undertaken, he claims, at the instigation of his friend
Pico della Mirandola. By January 1486 he had translated the whole of
Plotinus' work (see Biographical Note on Plotinus and Letter 24).
However, he continued to write commentaries on Plotinus, and the
translation with the commentaries was published in 1492.
The speed with which he worked was partly due to his gift of being
able to attend to any project he was engaged upon with single-minded
attention. One gets some sense of this from the number of letters
which apologise for his not having written at greater lengthl and
which give as a reason that `Plotinus calls' or 'will be calling
soon'. During much of this time he seems to have been utterly
absorbed in the thought, perhaps even the vision, of Plotinus. In
Letter 29 he is not using purely figurative speech when he writes to
Braccio Martelli, 'Recently, when I was staying at the home of
Filippo and Niccolo Valori in the countryside at Maiano and
investigating the nature of daemons (spirits) in a secluded place,
suddenly Plotinus was present.' Ficino writes that Plato himself is
faithfully represented in Plotinus alone (Letter 36). Perhaps he
felt that he had a similar relationship with Plotinus: that he
understood him, as it were, from within; even though in the letter
just quoted he uses the words of Porphyry to explain the 'dark,
pithy statements' of Plotinus!
What makes Ficino's achievement more remarkable is that many other
things also presented themselves in this period requiring his urgent
attention. He was most concerned that his interpretation of Plato
should be accepted in papal circles. This concern is expressed in a
number of letters written to Cardinal Marco Barbo at the Curia
asking him, either directly or indirectly, to speak up for Plato to
Pope Innocent VIII and to those in a position of influence. The
life-work of Ficino, which was to reintroduce Plato as an authority
the Church could accept, hung in the balance. Besides writing to
Barbo, Ficino also sent a number of letters on the same theme to his
old friend Antonio Calderini, who was a secretary to the Cardinal.
These printed letters must have been but the tip of the iceberg.
Much work must have gone on behind the scenes unrecorded and now
forgotten.
It made matters more difficult still that at this time Ficino's
financial circumstances, never favourable, became worse. One of
Ficino's brothers had died and Ficino was looking after his
brother's children in his own house (Letter 24). He felt diffident
about writing to Lorenzo de' Medici for help and asked his friend
Pier Leone to ask for help on his behalf. It appears that Pier Leone
never did this, or was unsuccessful, and finally Ficino himself had
to write (Letter 38).
The situation was awkward for Lorenzo, as the Medici bank was not
now doing well and he could not meet Ficino's needs on the same
generous scale as his grandfather had done. It was significant that
Lorenzo did not pay for the printing of Ficino's Plato in 1484. The
money, apparently after some indecision, was put up by Filippo
Valori (see Preface, dedicating this book of letters to Filippo
Valori, and Letter 20). However, Lorenzo had one very valuable
asset: his friendship with Pope Innocent VIII. In 1487 Lorenzo's
daughter Maddalena was betrothed to Pope Innocent's son,
Franceschetto Cibo (see Biographical Notes under Innocent VIII). The
same year Lorenzo's son Giovanni was promised a place in the College
of Cardinals. Such cementing of the ties between the papacy and
Florence gave Lorenzo much more influence in matters of
ecclesiastical patronage than he had enjoyed under the previous
pope, Sixtus IV. In 1487 Ficino was made a canon of Florence
Cathedral. The Medici had to make some sacrifice for this, as it was
Giovanni's seat as canon to which Ficino succeeded. Ficino wrote a
moving letter expressing his gratitude (Letter 39), and he made a
powerful oration on love when he became a canon (Letter 41). While
Ficino's new dignity alleviated his financial difficulties and
gained him more authority in Florence, it also provided other duties
to fulfil which must have added a further necessary diversion from
his work on Plotinus.
At about this time he also gave addresses to the Camaldolese order
at the Church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. It is possible that it is
these addresses which are summarised as letters 53-56 in this
volume. They are strongly devotional in character.
Ficino's international reputation and consequent responsibilities
were also growing. Members of his circle were spreading to Poland
and Hungary in greater numbers and within the last decade of the
century to France, Germany and England as well. A certain Paolo
(probably Paolo Attavanti, see Letter 72) wrote that Ficino had
'brought the whole of Europe to a loving subjection' to himself.
Ficino writes a typically humorous reply to this obvious
exaggeration. However, even this does give significant evidence of
the growing respect in which he was held both in Italy and beyond.
His influence over King Matthias of Hungary is particularly
remarkable. It reveals both the King's desire for a Platonic
renaissance in his country and his great respect for Ficino as the
fountain-head of Platonic wisdom. Matthias was one of the most
inspired leaders and generals of the fifteenth century. He held the
formidable Ottoman Turks at bay throughout his reign (1458-1490),
winning several notable victories over them. He also defeated the
Holy Roman Emperor Frederick III (see Biographical Notes under
Matthias Corvinus).
Ficino had dedicated his third and fourth books of letters to
Matthias, which had been beautifully illuminated by Attavanti dei
Attavante. What the King wanted above all was that Ficino himself
should come to his court. However, Ficino did not feel he could take
this step; but he was perhaps at least partly responsible for the
fact that his friend and fellow Platonist, Francesco Bandini, was
able to promote Platonic studies in Hungary from soon after his
arrival there in 1476, at least until Matthias' death in 1490.
Bandini was also useful to the king in other ways (see Biographical
Notes and Letter 57). However, the latter continued to press Ficino
to come himself and Ficino continued to decline the invitation.
Ficino tried repeatedly, but unsuccessfully, to persuade his cousin
Sebastiano Salvini to go instead (Letter 48). Not surprisingly he
felt that he might have lost some influence with the king (Letter
37).
However, the opposite proved to be the case, as the affair of the
priest Vincenzo Nicolai shows. It is not known what Ficino's
connection with Vincenzo was. He appears to have been arrested when
trying to cross the Hungarian border, carrying a large sum of money
without appropriate documents. Ficino pleaded with the King for his
release, which was obtained. However, at the time of his arrest his
money had been confiscated and was not returned to him. Ficino
interceded again to ask that his money should be given back (Letter
61). Once again Ficino's request was granted.
In all the books of Ficino's letters there are requests for help to
be given to acquaintances of his. Throughout his life he had a deep
concern for those who had fallen upon difficulties or misfortune,
and tried to help them. In this respect he followed Christ's
teaching in deed as well as word. Other letters in this volume which
reveal his concern include one to the lawyer Vittorio of Siena
(Letter 60), where Ficino pleads for him to help Salvini (who had
disappointed Ficino by not taking up Matthias' invitation for him to
go to Hungary, see Letter 53). In addition he puts the case of
Matteo Cini to Ermolao Barbaro, as Cini had got into some kind of
difficulty (Letter 71). We do not know what this difficulty was.
Of all the letters in Ficino's correspondence those between Pico
della Mirandola and himself seem to reveal most about Ficino's
nature. He admired enormously Pico's spirit, energy, courage and
intellectual penetration (Letter 66). Above all, perhaps, he admired
his magnificent aim of finding the unity that underlay all the great
religions and philosophical systems known to him. Ficino felt his
kinship with Pico was affirmed in the heavens (Letter 62). But this
friendship was much tested. Pico, who became the Count of Concordia
at a young age, received an Aristotelian education (see Biographical
Note on Aristotle) at the universities he attended: Ferrara, Padua,
Pavia and Paris. For a long time Ficino cherished hopes that Pico
would become a Platonist. But Pico never regarded himself as a
Platonist. His aim was to find the unity underlying both Plato and
Aristotle. In Ficino's first recorded letter to Pico in December,
1482 (Letters, 6, 31), he addresses Pico as `his fellow Platonist',
but this reflects the hope of Ficino rather than the position of
Pico. Two years later Pico wrote that he wanted to compare Plato
with Aristotle and Aristotle with Plato. He would also be grateful
if Ficino could send him his book on the Immortality of Souls
(Appendix A). At about this time Pico also wrote to the Aristotelian
Ermolao Barbaro: 'I am distancing myself from Aristotle to direct
myself to the Academy, not as a deserter but as an explorer.' Pico
had persuaded himself that Plato and Aristotle were fundamentally in
agreement (Historical Note on Pico).
Although Pico came to Florence to study with Ficino in 1484 his
earlier viewpoint does not seem to have much changed. It must always
have been a disappointment to Ficino that Pico never seemed to
appreciate what to him was obvious: that Plato's transcendental
mysticism soared beyond the logical reasoning of Aristotle.
In the spring of 1486 Pico visited Florence again on his way to Rome
to present his 90o propositions. Shortly after leaving Florence he
abducted the young wife of Giuliano Mariotto de' Medici (with her
willing consent). Before Pico could cross the border into Siena an
armed party collected by the aggrieved husband caught up with Pico.
In the ensuing affray there were significant casualties and Pico
himself was wounded. He was captured and conducted to prison, from
which he was released only when Lorenzo de' Medici himself paid a
fine on Pico's behalf.
Pico was disgraced in the opinion of many, apparently including that
of the friend of Pico and Ficino, Pier Leone, Lorenzo's physician.
Yet Ficino wrote two pieces in his defence (27 and 28). The second
of these, and perhaps the first, was sent to Pier Leone and no doubt
to others. Only Ficino's love for the man could have led him to make
such glorious attempts to defend the indefensible. However, the two
pieces were wisely not included in the first printed edition of the
letters which appeared in 1495, when the power of the fundamentalist
Dominican monk, Savonarola, was at its height in Florence.
While Pico was convalescing from his wounds at Fratta he gave
further cause for annoyance to Ficino. Ficino had lent him certain
books, including the Koran, which Pico needed for the preparation of
his 900 Propositions (see Historical Note on Pico). Ficino now
needed the book back, particularly for a work by Avicenna which was
included in the book, but Pico continued to keep it. His excuses
were not very plausible. It was as though he could not see the
problem. What could be more important than his own 90o Propositions
to be debated in the presence of the pope at a gathering to which
all the clergy of Italy had been invited? Pier Leone and
Mithridates, an assistant to Pico, appear to have had similar
difficulties with Pico (see Letters 31 and 46), although in the case
of Mithridates there were other problems as well (see Biographical
Notes under Mithridates). Ficino wrote to Pico telling him that he
would not let him have his work on Plotinus until he had received
back the Koran (Letter 31). Later Pico replied airily that Ficino
could not have asked for his Latin Mahomet back at a more convenient
time as he was now hoping to hear Mahomet speaking in his mother
tongue as he was studying Arabic, as well as Hebrew and Chaldean
(Appendix B).
Although both Pico and Ficino supported a religious and
philosophical unity their views differed on a number of issues.
These differences came to a head over a commentary Pico wrote in
1486 on a poem of Girolamo Benivieni which summarised what Ficino
had written about love in De Amore, his commentary on Plato's
Symposium. Pico's Commentary made criticisms of a number of things
Ficino had said. The criticisms did not at first mention Ficino by
name, but simply attributed such statements to 'a Platonist' or 'a
great Platonist' etc. The Commentary was sent to Ficino who returned
it with such comments as, 'This is a terrible mistake' and 'This is
a serious mistake.'
Pico responded by adopting some of Ficino's criticisms, but beside
other comments he would add such remarks as: 'I am surprised that
Marsilio holds that according`to Plato souls are created directly by
God, a view that is as much opposed by the School of Proclus as that
of Plotinus'. He also wrote, 'You can imagine, reader, how many
mistakes our Marsilio makes in the first part of the Banquet (De
Amore); on this one score (of inadequate definition of terms) he
completely confuses and invalidates what he says about love. But in
addition to this, he has made mistakes on every subject in every
part of his treatise.' 1 Pico then capped it all by threatening to
write his own commentary on Plato's Symposium. However, this never
happened and not even his Commentary on Benivieni's Canzone was
published in his life-time. All this was happening when Pico was an
unknown man of 23, having just completed his studies at the
Sorbonne; Ficino was a man of 52 and the leading living authority on
Plato. For the friendship to have continued is a remarkable tribute
to Ficino's power of detachment, and his concern for the good of his
friend.
During Pico's difficult sojourn in Rome in 1487 and after his flight
from there, Ficino continued to support him both in letters and by
speaking up for him to Lorenzo de' Medici in Florence (see
Historical Note on Pico). To escape arrest by papal emissaries Pico
had fled to France, but probably through Lorenzo's good offices he
obtained permission to live within the boundaries of Florence,
though not within the city. It was Ficino, in Letter 54, no doubt
with Lorenzo's prior approval (or prompting), who wrote on 3oth May,
1488, inviting Pico back to live on Florentine soil. Letters 57 and
58 are witness to the good terms which existed between the two after
Pico's return. Although their philosophical differences persisted,
their friendship appears to have remained unbroken. After Pico's
death in 1494 Ficino wrote: 'In age he was like a son to me, in
familiarity like a brother, and in affection like a second self '
Ficino considered himself a follower of the 'divine' Plato and of
Plotinus. But these great philosophers were only the culmination of
a line of philosophers who had realised the truth of an Ancient
Theology and passed it on to their disciples, who in turn passed it
on to their successors. As Plato himself explained in his Seventh
Epistle, such knowledge cannot be learnt from writing, however
sublime. Indeed, it cannot be learnt at all in the ordinary sense;
it has to be conveyed by word of mouth, reflected upon, and
assimilated into the being. That is why the Academy in both ancient
and Renaissance times was so important. It provided an opportunity
for this oral communication between the philosopher and his helpers,
and with those who came to listen.
Ficino seems to have changed his mind about the original head of the
ancient teaching. In his preface to the translation of the newly
discovered Poimandres, attributed in Renaissance times to the
Egyptian sage Hermes Trismegistus (Thoth in Egyptian), Ficino put
Hermes at the head of the tradition. In the 1469 Commentary on the
Philebus Ficino replaces Hermes with Zoroaster. However, in his
letter to John of Hungary (Letter 19), he states that the same
divine revelation came to Zoroaster in Persia and Hermes in Egypt
independently. This order he repeats in his preface to Plotinus,
published in 1492. Zoroaster and Hermes therefore became joint heads
of the tradition.' The remaining line of succession consisted of
Orpheus, Aglaophemus, Pythagoras, Philolaus and Plato. Poimandres
was the first work Ficino translated when in 1462 he was installed
by Cosimo de' Medici in a villa which Cosimo gave him near his own
at Careggi. It was this work (now known as the Corpus Hermeticum)
that inspired Ficino with a number of concepts that he came to
associate with the Ancient Theology: the unreality of the sensory
world; the single reality of the One; the capacity of the human soul
to consciously merge with that One; the immortal and god-like nature
of the human soul; the sleepy, 'drunk' and ignorant condition in
which it customarily lives. These ideas Ficino also found in Plato,
although not always so explicitly and clearly stated.
Ficino is particularly concerned that Marco Barbo should speak up
for his commentaries and translation of Plato and that the pope
should accept them, not just because the great Cosimo had given him
a task which had now been fulfilled; not because he had spent such
time, care and labour on the task, but because he felt that if this
teaching were imbibed, in Plato's sense, it could lead to a
renaissance of the human soul. He had written in 1477 (Letters, 4,
6): 'It was not for small things but for great that God created men,
who, knowing the great, are not satisfied with small things. Indeed,
it was for the limitless alone that He created men, who are the only
beings on earth to have rediscovered their infinite nature and who
are not satisfied by anything limited, however great that thing may
be'.
In this volume Ficino asks Barbo and Bandini to be protectors of
Plato and he saw himself in this role too. He could not accept
Pico's propositions that Aristotle and Plato were saying almost the
same thing. Aristotle on many occasions attacks Plato's statements
on ideal forms (see Biographical Notes under Plato and Aristotle).
Ficino regarded as an essential part of the ancient teaching the
notion that reality is beyond the senses and beyond that part of the
mind which deals with sensory perception. It was reflections of this
real world in the sensory one that reminded the soul of its
spiritual homeland and filled it with`the desire to return there.
The last letter in this volume, which discusses the quality of the
notes of the octave in great detail, reflects the importance Ficino
attached to good music as a reminder to the listener of the real
homeland. There is a relationship between Ficino's musical scale and
the proportions and intervals which Plato says God used in creating
both body and soul.
Some of the points about which Ficino and Pico disagreed seem
relatively trivial, but their implications are far from trivial.
Pico, in a passage already quoted, criticises Ficino for saying that
souls are directly made by God. But if there is an intermediary then
the soul cannot be divine in an absolute sense. In that respect Pico
had 'made a serious mistake' — even if Plotinus did support him!
Plotinus sometimes, however, provides a clearer statement of the
principles of the Ancient Theology than Plato does. In Ficino's
terms, he explains things that Plato leaves veiled. It was partly
for this reason that Ficino felt drawn to translate him. Pico, both
in the Benivieni Commentary and in his book De Ente et Uno (On Being
and the One), argues that 'Being' and the 'One' are synonymous
terms, and he adds that if Plato appears to say the opposite in
Parmenides that is because that dialogue is a dialectical exercise
and does not represent what Plato thought. In his commentary upon
Parmenides Ficino spends significant time expounding the principle
that the 'One' is beyond 'Being'. The principle again appears of
little importance; but again the opposite is the case. For the
'One', if it is to be absolute, must be absolutely non-dual. It must
be beyond all pairs of opposites such as being and non-being.
Plotinus leaves the matter in no doubt when he says: 'The One is not
all things because then it would no longer be One. It is not the
Intelligence, because the Intelligence is all things, and the One
would then be all things. It is not Being because Being is all
things'.
Plotinus also provides much imagery that appeals strongly to the
emotions. Some of this imagery is taken up directly by Ficino. For
instance, Plotinus likens the life of man on earth to taking a part
in a play. Ficino draws on this in a moving letter to Ugolino Verino
on the death of his son, of whom he writes (Letter 49): 'He has gone
back, not from life, but from a particular play in life, into the
very substance of life'. Ficino also follows Plotinus (and Hermes)
in his praise of beauty. Like Plato, Plotinus speaks of levels of
beauty, but they all lead back to the beauty of the Good, from which
their beauty comes. Plotinus ends a disquisition on beauty by
saying: 'What is beyond the Intelligence we affirm to be the nature
of the good, radiating beauty before it'.6 Ficino believes that it
is a reflection of this beauty in physical bodies that attracts all
human beings back to their source.
Finally, Plotinus' description of an experience of unity bears a
marked resemblance in tone to some of Ficino's experiences. Plotinus
writes: `Many times it has happened: lifted out of the body into
myself; becoming external to all other things and self-centred;
beholding a marvellous beauty; then, more than ever, assured of
community with the loftiest order, enacting the noblest life,
acquiring identity with the divine, stationing within it ...'
Reading this passage must have confirmed Ficino's own experience and
confirmed his view of the unlimited potential of man.
Pico and Ficino lived in very different mental worlds, even though
they shared the common aim of finding a unity in different religions
and philosophical traditions. Pico was an Aristotelian from
education and probably also by nature. He looked for unity through
symbolism and attributing special meanings to words which differed
from the common understanding of them. Ficino had also had an
Aristotelian education and was able to present his original works in
a framework of Aristotelian logic and definition of terms. But in
Pico's view Ficino was not very good at this. Ficino was in essence
a visionary whose inner knowledge came through revelation. He
thought that the oneness of Christianity and Platonism was based not
on the fact that the Christian scriptures were identical in meaning
to the dialogues of Plato, but because what was expressed in both
traditions was totally compatible. What underlay both traditions was
their common origin, which was, as he thought, the wisdom of Hermes
Trismegistus, who, according to St Augustine, was coeval with Moses.
Both traditions were therefore heirs to the Ancient Theology.
Ficino sometimes makes disparaging references to 'logicians' in his
letters, and his attitude to Callimachus is revealing. Callimachus
was an Italian, Filippo Buonaccorsi, who had lived in Poland for
some time. He had sent a letter to Ficino asking him how daemons
(spirits) could possibly take possession of a body which was already
completely filled by the soul, which would therefore leave no room
for it (Appendix F). At the time Ficino was most interested in the
nature of spirits. His De Vita Libri Tres (Three Books on Life) was
published in 1489, the year after the last letters in this volume
were written, and the third book was originally intended as a
preface to Plotinus. This book makes many references to daemons. The
longest letter (29) in this volume is mainly a translation of part
of a work of Porphyry (De Abstinentia) which deals entirely with
daemons.
However, Ficino replies to Callimachus with a humorous comment. He
says 'While you assert that a man cannot be possessed by a spirit,
at the same time you are demonstrating that you are completely
possessed by a spirit which is indeed divine.' Then he says he is
too busy with Plotinus to send a fuller reply (Letter 16). He sends
a similarly short reply to Pico (Letter 35) when he receives from
him the 900 Propositions. He merely makes one proposition: that so
much learning in one so young is 'the mark of some one remembering
rather than learning', which is a direct allusion to a Platonic
rather than Aristotelian theory of knowledge. While undoubtedly
Ficino was preoccupied with Plotinus during this period, one feels
that on both occasions there is another unspoken comment, an
intimation that one does not arrive at the truth through discursive
or analytic thinking.
Many times in his books of letters Ficino tells us that final union
with God is reached through love. In his inaugural speech to the
College of Canons and the people of Florence he preaches on three
aspects of love: God is love; he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in
God; and God in him. It seems probable we have only a summary of
what he said; but the summary is powerful; and again he makes the
point that he emphasises many times. 'Because God Himself is love
and also because the soul, set on fire with the flames of love,
loves the most high God within herself, and indeed loves men in God,
the soul is wonderfully moved by God Himself, who is love, and the
soul becomes God' (Letter 41).
Ficino delivered other orations in the church of Santa Maria degli
Angeli, which belonged to the Camaldolese order. One oration (Letter
53), or part of an oration, gives this instruction to everyone
entering the Church: 'Know thyself'. It continues, 'It is therefore
our bounden duty first to acknowledge our own soul, through which as
in a mirror we can look in bliss upon the adorable face of our
Father.' Here Ficino is speaking of the divine soul within every
human being. Later he asks `What does it profit you, theologian, to
ascribe eternity to God, unless you ascribe the same to yourself, so
that through your own eternity you may enjoy the divine eternity?'
(Letter 54).
According to Ficino, on seeing a reflection of your own eternity in
another you fall in love with the image of yourself in the other. It
was this divine love that in Ficino's words bound the members of the
Academy together and also bound Ficino and his correspondents. There
are constant references to this throughout the letters. This equal
love was purely spiritual; it was not a polite form of words, still
less a reference to homosexual love. It was a love that was
all-embracing.
In conclusion it might be said that the work of Ficino was an
attempt to restore to Christianity a number of features, associated
with Christianity in its first two centuries, some of which were
afterwards driven out of the church. These features are associated
with the Gnostic and Hermetic movements. They include an acceptance
of the non-duality of the universe (although this was not accepted
by the Syrian Gnostics), and of the immortality and thus divinity of
the soul, so that all humans were potentially Christ-like. They
include a belief in angels and demons, and the belief that the fall
of man was not occasioned by Adam and Eve's disobedience but by the
ignorance arising from the pursuit of sensory objects. It was a
Christianity that was much closer in spirit to the religions of the
East, and far more tolerant and less dogmatic than the Christianity
that possessed both the Catholic and Protestant churches in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. --Clement Salaman, Editor
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 8 edited and translated by by Clement Salaman (Shepheard-Walwyn) contains letters written in 1488 and 1489, with a preface added in the summer of 1490. There are also four important letters written in 1489 not included in the printed edition of his letters published in 1495, no doubt because they concern Ficino’s Three Books on Life (De vita) and were published with it, together with a note to the reader printed there. These five items are appended to the present volume (Appendices A to E) as they help to complete the record of Ficino’s engagement with other scholars at this period.
In addition, some letters have been provided
from his correspondents: Appendix F is Poliziano’s reply to a
request for help, G is a letter from Valori, and H is the covering
letter Ficino wrote at the time he composed Book I of De vita.
Appendix letters I to K are from Ermolao Barbaro, presenting the
other side of the correspondence between him and Ficino. They date
from 1484, 1488 and 1491 but are given together here. Appendix L
presents another letter from Poliziano to Ficino, and M to Q are
letters of dedication written by Filippo Valori for presentation
copies of Ficino’s work discussed in this volume. Valori personally
paid for these presentation copies and for the publication in print
of De vita.
* Volume 8 in the Shepheard-Walwyn edition, the first English translation of The Letters, corresponds with Book IX of the Latin edition.
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 8 by Marsilio Ficino, edited, translated by Clement Salaman (Shepheard-Walwyn)
This volume casts a new light on Marsilio Ficino, an extraordinary Renaissance man. Sometimes he has been thought of as an ivory-tower philosopher, who retired from the hurly-burly of life to contemplate God in the seclusion of his academy. It is true that he was a man of devotion; but when the need was there he could be a highly effective man of action. We see him using his significant influence in Florence and beyond to defend his philosophy against opposition from the Church. In this he was successful.
The collected letters were first printed in Venice in 1495. This may have been because the fundamentalist priest Savonarola and the party opposed to the Medici, Ficino's patrons, were then powerful in Florence - Lorenzo's son and heir, Piero, had been expelled the previous year. Some material that would have been in this book on chronological grounds may also have been excluded for the same reason. This material has been included here in the Appendix together with some letters to Ficino and prefaces added to his work published at this time.
This volume casts a new light on Marsilio Ficino, an extraordinary Renaissance man. Sometimes he has been thought of as an ivory-tower philosopher, who retired from the hurly-burly of life to contemplate God in the seclusion of his academy. It is true that he was a man of devotion; but when the need was there he could be a highly effective man of action. We see him using his significant influence in Florence and beyond to defend his philosophy against opposition from the Church. In this he was successful.
The collected letters were first printed in Venice in 1495. This may have been because the fundamentalist priest Savonarola and the party opposed to the Medici, Ficino's patrons, were then powerful in Florence - Lorenzo's son and heir, Piero, had been expelled the previous year. Some material that would have been in this book on chronological grounds may also have been excluded for the same reason. This material has been included here in the Appendix together with some letters to Ficino and prefaces added to his work published at this time.
The letters cover topics from friendship to healthy living and from the ancient philosophical tradition to biblical scholarship and medicine; there is discussion of the influence of the stars on human life, recommendations for reading books related to the Platonic tradition and reflections on the art of good writing and speaking.
His correspondents in this book include Lorenzo de' Medici and his sons Piero and Giovanni, Filippo Valori, Pico della Mirandola, Pier Leone of Spoleto, Angelo Poliziano and the Venetian scholar-diplomat, Ermolao Barbaro. There are also letters to Germany and Hungary.
Wherever he found divisions between people, Ficino endeavoured to bring them to unity: he sought to create harmony among his brothers, to show that the way of philosophy was not different from the way of religion, and that the Aristotelians and Platonists were in fundamental agreement. The basis of this unity for him was to recognise the unity of the divine soul in everyone.
The illustration on the front of the jacket shows the right-hand half of a double-page frontispiece illuminating the finely produced copy of Ficino's translation of Synesius,
On Dreams, discussed in this volume.The manuscript (Codex Guelf 2 Aug. 40) was prepared for King Matthias of Hungary by Filippo Valori, as mentioned in this volume, and also contains Books III and IV of the Letters, as replacement for the copy lost earlier. The king's emblem of the raven holding a ring can be seen in the top border, held by cherubs. In the bottom border is his coat of arms. The illumination is attributed to Attavante degli Attavanti. It is reproduced by kind permission of the Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbiittel.
THIS eighth volume of letters casts a new light on Marsilio Ficino, an extraordinary Renaissance man. Sometimes he has been thought of as an ivory-tower philosopher, who retired from the hurly-burly of city life to contemplate God in the seclusion of his academy. It is true that he was a man of devotion; but when the need was there he could be a highly effective man of action. According to Ficino, to combine both roles was difficult.Yet in this book we see him boldly preparing to defend his philosophy against opposition in the papal curia. His defence was successful. On another front we find him still practising as a doctor in the late 1480s, caring for the body as well as the spirit and soul of others. Thus he united the function of doctor, musician, and priest. He had also taken on the care of his nephews and nieces, whose father had died and who evidently had less frugal tastes than he did.'
Yet his literary output remained undiminished. Perhaps for that reason this book is the shortest of the twelve books in the collected volume of letters first printed in Venice in 1495. It contains only twenty-five letters. The reason that the collected letters were published in Venice may have been that the fundamentalist priest Savonarola and the party opposed to the Medici, Ficino's patrons, were then powerful in Florence. Lorenzo's son and heir, Piero, had been expelled the previous year. Some material that would have been in this book on chronological grounds was probably excluded for the same reason, or because it had already been published in the De vita libri tres in 1489. This material has been included here in the Appendix together with some letters written by others, either to Ficino, or as prefaces added to Ficino's work published at this time. The Appendix is of no less importance than the twenty-five letters printed in the Venice edition, and in some cases the more interesting for having been excluded from it.
The letters cover topics from friendship to healthy living and from the ancient philosophical tradition to new advances in biblical scholarship and medicine; there is discussion of the influence of the stars on human life, recommendations for reading books related to the Platonic tradition and reflections on the art of good writing and speaking.
His correspondents in this book include Lorenzo de' Medici and his sons Piero and Giovanni: to all of these he dedicates important works. There are several letters to his other patron and great friend, Filippo Valori, and to his fellow philosophers Pico della Mirandola, Pier Leone of Spoleto, Angelo Poliziano and the Venetian scholar-diplomat, Ermolao Barbaro. There is also a new friend and follower in Germany, Martin Prenninger of Constanz, and there are several letters to Hungary, both to Francesco Bandini and to the King, Matthias Corvinus, as well as to the king's librarian, another Italian, Taddeo Ugoleto of Parma.
The great majority of the contents of this volume was written within a period of just over a year, from September 1488 to October 1489. During this period Ficino was exceptionally busy, even by his standards. He had finished his translation of Plato's dialogues (published in 1484) but was still working on the commentaries to some of these. He was also working on De vita (published in December, 1489). This was the book which seemed to some to cross the bounds of Christian dogma. In addition he had embarked on the enormous task of translating Plotinus' Enneads and was now writing commentaries on these. But he had also been engaged on translating a number of the works of other neo-Platonic writers including Porphyry, De occasionibus, Iamblichus, On the Mysteries of the Egyptians and Assyrians, Priscian of Lydia, On Theophrastus, concerning the Soul, Proclus, On Sacrifice and Magic, and Psellus, On Daemons.
What impelled Ficino to undertake this great task? Like many others of his time, he felt that the key to knowledge lay in the tradition of the ancient past. Ficino believed that the common basis of true philosophy and religion lay in a prisca theologia, a venerable teaching that came from God and was passed down through a number of teacher/disciple relationships (the disciple in one generation becoming the teacher in the next). He felt that knowledge of this ancient teaching is the highest happiness for mankind for it leads to the knowledge of the soul, that divine self lying at the heart of every human being, and constituting the unity between man and man. Knowledge of that common root must be the best hope for reconciling the various branches of religion and philosophy. Since the soul was at the mid-point of creation, in coming to know the soul one would come to know all things. Hence the instruction on the temple of Apollo at Delphi, 'Know Thyself'.
For Ficino, the Universe was one living whole, but in this whole were different levels. Surely human life on earth could be greatly assisted if one could use substances belonging to a higher level to assist life at a terrestrial level: for instance, by wearing solar metals or gems or eating solar food one could attract to oneself the qualities of the Sun. Even making images of the planetary gods might similarly be of assistance. These issues are raised in De vita libri tres. Originally the three books constituting De vita had not been intended to form a single volume. The first book, On a healthy life, was going to be a preface to Book VII of the Letters. But it became too long. The head was going to grow bigger than the body! The second, On a long life, was partly inspired by Martin Prenninger, Ficino's illustrious friend from Germany (Letter 18). The text was influenced by Arnald of Villanova, and perhaps by Roger Bacon, but the Arnald text was difficult to read and in a corrupt state. There appears to have been no Church opposition to these first two sections of De vita. But the third was a different matter. The title of this was On obtaining life from the heavens.
For Ficino, to make use of substances and forms carrying celestial influences could in no way abrogate the omnipotence ofAlmighty God. God was simply working through such agencies, as He might work through individual men and women. Ficino would have considered astrological indications or causes in a similar way: God manifests His will through the stars. What God wills is instantly effected.
However, Ficino was well aware that others would not see the matter in the same light. In his letter to 'the three Peters' (Appendix B), he states the kind of questions he anticipates, or indeed has already encountered. 'One person will say, "Is not Ficino a priest? What business have priests with medicine? Or what business with astrology?" Similarly another person will say,"What business has a Christian with magic or talismans?" Yet another, himself unworthy of life, will deny that there is life in the heavens. 'These charges are summarised by the 'severe ecclesiastical prelate' referred to in De vita, III, 25: he condemns 'whatever detracts from our free will, whatever derogates from the worship of the one God.' Ficino answers, 'With you I not only condemn these things but even bitterly curse them?' Strong language!
However, predictive astrology does appear to take away at least partially the free will of humans and, for that matter, of God. Ficino seems to imply prediction. For instance, in Appendix D he predicts a 'sufficiently long life' for King Matthias of Hungary, but the king died within the year. Ficino also predicted a long life for Ermolao Barbaro, who died in 1493 when he was still in his thirties. But Ficino did predict accurately that Lorenzo de' Medici's son, Giovanni, would become Pope, which he did in 1513. One does wonder how seriously Ficino and his addressees took such predictions. Perhaps they were rather given and received in the spirit with which Persian courtiers in ancient times used to greet the Great King, '0 King, live for ever!'
Ficino's philosophical consideration of astrology does seem to be moving towards a more semiological interpretation. In his letter to Ficino in this volume Poliziano, the poet and grammarian, expresses his pleasure that Ficino's views on astrology are now the same as Pico della Mirandola's (Appendix L). Pico was increasingly influenced at the time by the views of the reforming Dominican monk, Girolamo Savonarola, and he therefore would not accept any form of predictive astrology in relation to human affairs.
Another serious accusation made against Ficino was that of worshipping daemons. A Christian was not allowed even to address them, yet Ficino had recently summoned Porphyry, now a spirit himself, to elucidate what he had just heard from the spirit of Plotinus. Could Ficino have passed off these and similar references as mere metaphor? Porphyry had actually written a treatise of fifteen books against Christianity!
Ficino successfully avoided trouble. In a later book of letters (Book X) he acknowledges his gratitude to Rinaldo Orsini, the Archbishop of Florence. Ermolao Barbaro, the expert on Aristotle and soon to become Patriarch of Aquileia, also claims to have helped his cause in Rome and even states that Pope Innocent VIII would like to see him. Perhaps Ficino might have been wary of such a meeting, bearing in mind the persecution inflicted by the Pope on Ficino's friend, the scholar Pico.
Ficino might not have got off so easily if he had not had substantial support from within Florence; and he was very active in mobilising this. The three Peters that Ficino summoned in Appendix B were all distinguished men. Pietro del Nero was a classical scholar and, perhaps more to the point, a lawyer. Piero Soderini in 1502 was given the post of Gonfaloniere for life, and Piero Guicciardini was a member of one of the most influential families in Florence. Guicciardini is asked to 'fetch' Poliziano. Ficino often addresses Poliziano as 'Hercules,' much to Poliziano's annoyance, as he was of small stature, but Ficino really did need a Hercules now! Nero was asked to go to the poet Cristoforo Landino: 'That Amphion of ours with his wonderful charm will swiftly soften the stony hearts of our enemies.'
Ficino also sends a letter to the three 'Cs' (Appendix C): Bernardo Canigiani, Giovanni Canacci, and Amerigo Corsini. These were all leading citizens. A phrase has been added in the printed edition which, if it was actually used, is of some interest. In this addition Ficino addresses 'the three Cs' as 'keen-scented hounds of the Academy'. This seems to indicate that the Academy had some special role to play in supporting Ficino against the Dominican Savonarola; the Dominicans themselves were known as Domini canes, hounds of the Lord. Canigiani was a close friend of Ficino, and Corsini had been his pupil.
Another interesting feature of this letter is that, while he needed a vigorous response to the anticipated charge of heresy, he did not want an over-response. Canacci, in particular, seems to be reminded that 'those who consider their studies and business too precisely and always break them down into the smallest possible particles are at the same time wearing away their own life.' A little earlier in the same letter he writes to all of them, 'I now entrust you the tasks I wish you to undertake, but not the cares attendant upon them.' Ficino then invites them, if they hear any 'wolves howling', to put the matter to Benigno Salviati, the notable Franciscan preacher, for he 'will easily put all the wolves to flight ... and at a stroke, relieve me of anxiety and you of trouble.' In both letters (Appendix B and C) Ficino is not only asking for the support of his friends but he is asking them to obtain help from specific influential individuals. It is a campaign.
In his defense, Ficino made good use of the books he had recently worked on, or was still working on. In fifteen of the twenty-five letters in this book the translations of these works are mentioned, or promised to the recipients. By reading these Platonic works they could be expected to gain a clearer understanding and greater sympathy with Ficino's philosophy.
The most powerful person in Florence was Lorenzo de' Medici. Ficino still regarded him as his patron, although due to a deteriorating financial position he had not for some time paid for Ficino's books to be published.
In Appendix A Ficino writes to Lorenzo largely in allegories relating to rebirth. 'Rebirth' was a term used by the early Christians to mean a spiritual rebirth in the wisdom of God. It is not a term employed much by Ficino. It refers to a very profound experience described in the first book that Ficino ever translated from the Greek. This work, ascribed to the legendary Egyptian Hermes Trismegistus, was entitled The Poimander; now known as the Corpus Hermeticum. In this the disciple is beside himself because Hermes has not bestowed upon him second birth. Hermes tells him:
'O Son, spiritual wisdom lies in the womb of silence and the seed
is truth and the supreme good...'
'What kind of man is born, 0 Father?'
'He who is born from God is of a different kind; he is a son of
God, and himself God, in all he is the All, composed of all powers.'
Towards the end of this letter to Lorenzo, Ficino writes these words: 'Accept therefore, most worthy Lorenzo, after those books on the soul, these books on the body also, and graciously breathe life into those earlier ones.' Ficino had already sent Lorenzo the translations of Plato and the work on The Immortality of the Soul. Now Lorenzo is to breathe life into The Book on Life. Given the opening topic of the letter, the implication is that the De vita will have its full power only if Lorenzo breathes upon it and it gains second birth. As well as deliverance from the immediate threat, Ficino is hoping for a rebirth of wisdom among the Florentines led by a re-inspired Lorenzo.
Ficino was an arch-syncretist, both from his nature and from his philosophy. He always worked to bring people to harmony following the words of Psalm 133 quoted in Letters, 4, 42 and the Preface to Letters, 6 , 'How good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.' In Letter 6 of this volume he stresses the importance of unity.According to Giovanni Corsi, his contemporary biographer, he practised what he spoke. He had no desires to accumulate possessions and left the whole of his inheritance to his brothers. 'He would take great pains to reconcile friends. He was a model of dutiful conduct towards parents, relatives, friends and the dead, but particularly towards his mother Alessandra, whose life he prolonged by remarkable care and attention, to her eighty-fourth year, even though she was an invalid.' (Letters, 3, 'The life of Marsilio Ficino by Giovanni Corsi,' p.145). In his collected letters there is hardly a request for himself but many commendations for others.
There are frequent references to the work of Theophrastus and that of Priscian of Lydia who strove to discover the essential unity of view held by both Aristotle and Plato. It is also interesting that in this volume he speaks highly of a leading Dominican, Niccol
o de Mirabilibus and also of a leading Franciscan, Benigno Salviati (Letters 3 and 19). This was at a time when there was considerable rivalry between the two orders (as there was between the Aristotelians and Platonists).Ficino also saw a link between Christianity and the teachings of Zoroaster. He points out that the three wise men who came to the infant Christ were in fact the first three Christians! Even more, that they had been led by the very kind of white magic that Ficino advocates (Appendix B). In the preface to Plotinus, Zoroaster is actually honoured as the first founder of the prisca theologia.
Ficino also sought to resolve the differences between those who took the spiritual path through religion, who primarily worked through the heart, and those who worked through the head and took the path of philosophy. Back in the 1470s he had written,lawful philosophy is no different from true religion and lawful religion exactly the same as true philosophy.' (Letters, 1, 123). He asserts in Letters, 7, that philosophy is necessary for 'men with keen and philosophically inclined minds.' He says that reason will lead them to the same place as faith has led those of a religious nature. He points out in this volume in Letter 12 that amongst the early sages there had been exemplars of both the religious and the philosophic life. Plato had gloriously combined them both.
The idea of Platonic Love has passed into common parlance as a love independent of physical attraction, a love central to Ficino's concept of friendship. In this volume we are presented with a clear picture of how such friends lived and what was the basis of their friendship. Angelo Poliziano, a famous poet and grammarian in his day, writes to him (Appendix L):
I hope you will not disdain this little country cottage of ours at Fiesole when your place at Careggi gets too hot in August. For here we have many streams, as in a valley, very little sun and a breeze that never fails us.Then the secluded little house itself, although almost hidden by a small wood, commands a view of the whole of Florence. And although there is a great throng nearby, in my house there is always pure solitude, such as detachment indeed loves.
Then he mentions that Ficino's friend, Pico della Mirandola, often drops in and takes him with him 'for the kind of supper you are familiar with, a supper that is frugal but witty, and always full of cheerful conversation and jokes.'
They thought of themselves as doing the same work. Poliziano writes in the same letter, 'What of the fact that we all devote ourselves to promoting true studies each in our own way? And we always do this encouraged not by any reward, but by love of the work itself; yet the duties are divided among us in such a way that absolutely no part of them is left out. For Pico ... is expounding all the scriptures.., and he arrives bearing the olive branch between Aristotle, who is currently mine, and Plato, who is ever yours.'
Ficino writes not infrequently that he works to express the glory of the age. There is a universality of view about these fifteenth-century humanists. It is not surprising that this volume of Ficino's letters dwells so much upon the One. He was working on the Plotinus Commentaries during the period in which these letters were written, and Plotinus dwells on the One even more consistently than Plato does. It is the unity of God recognised in the human being that constitutes the basis of friendship.
Those who have the same guiding spirit and listen to it have a single mind and single will. 'If mind and will are one there is always but one man' (Letters, 6, 10).When Ficino writes to King Matthias of Hungary, having earlier declined the king's invitation to visit his country, it is not just a rhetorical flourish for him to say that he will be visiting it in the body of Filippo Valori, who is Ficino's new patron and his alter ego (Letter 6). The mind which is common to friends seems to relate to the mind of God, who is always the third friend.'
It is a quality of some of the humanists that Ficino corresponds with in this volume that they seem to move closer to each other in their thought as though they were not bound to their opinions. Poliziano writes to Ficino in 1494 (Appendix L): `So far as concerns astrologers, about whom you have written me a most beautiful letter, I rejoice greatly because you also are now for the first time taking a stand with our Pico, or have already taken this stand in the past ... Changing one's view is not a disgrace for a philosopher.' But Poliziano also seems to be modifying his own views. Having been a staunch Aristotelian, he now writes as a 'neophyte' in Ficino's philosophy. Ermolao Barbaro, another famous Aristotelian, shortly to be appointed Patriarch of Aquileia by the pope, writes (Appendix J), 'We are aligning part of our philosophy to some extent with yours: we are giving ourselves encouragement and turning what is given man as a punishment into praise.'
In surveying the letters in this volume one realises what a master Ficino was of the now almost forgotten art of letter writing. There does not seem to be a word out of place. In Letter 11 Ficino replies to a letter from Andrea Cambini, who has sent Ficino three speeches written by a relative of Cambini's. Ficino praises them highly. He writes: 'The qualities I look for above all others in speeches are these: meanings that are clear and not hidden, fullness without excess, brevity without defect, but whole and measured, and lastly appropriate and fine choice of words.' Ficino might have been describing the qualities of his own letters. These qualities point to the Plotinian mean, the mid-point in creation, the still centre. They reflect the words which formed part of the inscription written on the walls of his Academy: 'Avoid excess, avoid activity. Rejoice in the present'. Such advice leads to the fulfilment of human life.
Clement Salaman EditorTHIS volume contains Ficino's ninth book of letters, comprising letters written in 1488 and 1489, with a preface added in the summer of 1490. In addition, four important letters were written in 1489 which were not included in the printed edition of his letters published in 1495. This is no doubt because they concern Ficino's Three Books on Life (De vita) and were in fact published with it, together with a note to the reader printed there. These four letters were included in the one extant manuscript (Mo2), and the reader's note is alluded to there, but not given in full. All five of these items have now been appended to the present volume (Appendices A to E) as they help to complete the record of Ficino's engagement with other scholars at this period.
In addition, some letters have been provided from his various correspondents: Appendix F is Poliziano's reply to a request for help, G is a letter from Valori, and H is the covering letter Ficino wrote at the time he composed Book I of De vita, which had originally been intended as a letter, but outgrew its context (see our previous volume, Letters, 7). Appendix letters I to K are from Ermolao Barbaro, presenting the other side of the correspondence between him and Ficino. They date from 1484, 1488 and 1491 but are given together here for the sake of convenience. Appendix L presents another letter from Poliziano to Ficino, and M to P are letters of dedication written by Filippo Valori for presentation copies of Ficino's work discussed in this volume. Valori personally paid for these presentation copies and for the publication in print of De vita.
One of the more slimmer books of the Letters, the text being only 35 pp, the critical apparatus of the volume remains excellent, including biographies of Ancient, Medieval, and contemporary personages, bibliographies of works, indexes and appendices as described elcewhere.
Textual Sources
For Book IX, besides the printed edition of Venice, 1495, there is only one manuscript. It is not known who wrote this manuscript or under what circumstances. It contains all of the letters from this book, and the following books, stopping early in Book XII, and these are followed by some letters of Bartolomeo Scala from an earlier period.
The 1495 printed edition was published in Venice by Matteo Capcasa of Parma. The copy in the library of the University of Durham (SR. 2.C.22), used here, has some corrections in the hand of Ficino Ficini, Ficino's nephew.
The manuscript, siglum Mo2, is Munich, Staatsbibliothek, MS lat. 10781.This manuscript also served as the main textual source for the Appendix letters connected with De vita (A to E, and H), collated with the earliest printed editions of this work:
The Latin texts of the remaining Appendix letters are all found in Paul Oskar Kristeller, Supplementum Ficinianum, 2 vols., Florence, 1937, volume II, for which page numbers are given in each case.
THE TRANSLATORSThe Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 9 (Shepheard-Walwyn) not yet published
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 10 (Shepheard-Walwyn) not yet published
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 11 (Shepheard-Walwyn) not yet published
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 12 (Shepheard-Walwyn) not yet published
Marsilio Ficino: The Book of Life (Dunquin Series) by Marsilio
Ficino, Charles Boer (Spring Publications) Charles Boer obviously
put considerable effort into trying to make sense of a famous but
difficult work, which had yet to be properly edited in its
Renaissance Latin original. His translation is quite pleasant
reading. Unfortunately, the problems begin as soon as the reader
tries to understand Ficino, instead of Boer. The "Three Books of
Life" contain a mixture of medicine, astrology, neo-Platonic
philosophy, and more or less concealed magic, and Boer makes little
effort to explain any of these; it is not clear how much of any of
them he recognized in the text he was translating.
To anyone familiar with the discussions of the book in, for example,
Walker's "Spiritual and Demonic Magic from Ficino to Campanella," or
Yates' "Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition," the translation
could only be a source of frustration.
Basically, there seem to have been two sets of problems. First, the
translation was based on unreliable versions of the Latin. The lack
of a proper edition was not Boer's fault; professional scholars of
Renaissance Latin writings (Humanist Latin is a subject in itself)
had never published one. But it should have made him very cautious
about trying to puzzle it out for himself. Second, Boer seems to
have paid little, if any, attention to the vast scholarship needed
to understand Ficino, which was available, if somewhat scattered
through books and journals.
Since Boer was dismissive of the existing Ficino scholarship,
hostile reviews from scorned specialists were perhaps to be
expected. But I am not one of them, and I can testify from
experience that Boer's work was more frustrating than useful.
Fortunately, not too long after the appearance of Boer's version,
Carole V. Kaske and John R. Clark's "Three Books on Life" was
announced for publication. It has since appeared, and, with several
reprintings behind it, is, at this writing, available. It has a full
edition of the Latin text facing the translation, an excellent
introduction, and elaborate notes and index / glossaries. It is not
as fun to read as Boer sometimes is, but, despite the slightly
higher price, it is a better bargain. You get useful historical
contexts, advice on whether Ficino is making a pun, or is completely
serious, even alternative explanations -- all the things I wondered
about when trying to read Boer's version.
Three Books on Life by Marsilio Ficino, translated and edited by
Carol V. Kaske, John R. Clark (Medieval and Renaissance Texts and
Studies) In the second half of the twentieth century, readers of
English who were interested in the Renaissance had their attention
drawn to Ficino's "Three Books on Life" (known by various titles,
such as "Liber de Vita" and "De Vita Triplici") by several
influential books. Chief among them were D.P. Walker's "Spiritual
and Demonic Magic: From Ficino to Campanella" and Frances A. Yates'
"Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition." The many readers of
Robert Burton's seventeenth-century masterpiece "The Anatomy of
Melancholy" had already encountered frequent citations of "Ficinus"
on melancholy, its causes and cure. Any attempt to find an English
translation, or even a good text of the Latin original, however,
came up with nothing.
For a moment it seemed that Charles Boer had provided one with "The
Book of Life," originally published in 1980, and currently in print.
It was an attractively printed and extremely readable translation.
Unfortunately, it was not only based on unreliable versions of the
Latin, but it paid little if any attention to the vast scholarship
needed to understand Ficino. Since Boer was dismissive of the
existing Ficino scholarship, hostile reviews were perhaps to be
expected, but I can testify from experience that Boer's work was
more frustrating than useful.
Fortunately, a far superior translation, along with a carefully
edited Latin text, useful introduction and helpful notes, and
glossarial indexes, was already in progress. It appeared about a
decade later, and, like Boer's, has been reprinted several times. It
is an impressive accomplishment, providing a rich source of
information on Ficino's theological, philosophical, medical,
astrological, and magical readings and world-view, and how they
interact.
Ficino, famous in his day and in histories of philosophy as the
pioneering translator of Plato and the Neo-Platonists (a distinction
made long after his time), was the son of a physician, which in
those days meant an astrologer. He was trained in his father's
profession, but also as a priest, and read the Aristotle of the late
Scholastics as well as Plato and his followers, and his supposed
source, the books attributed to the Egyptian sage, Hermes
Trismegistus. Bits and pieces of all of these interests, and others,
appear in the "Books on Life," which are in large measure an attempt
to avoid the negative implications of Ficino's own horoscope, which
was dominated by the influence of Saturn, seeming to doom him to
lethargy and sickness.
In the process, he worked a minor revolution in European thought,
which is still with us today. He did this by finding good aspects to
melancholy, which in the tradition he had inherited was a disease,
combining aspects of depression and mania. He argued that it was
also a producer of scholarship and wisdom, helping to launch both
the modern idea of "genius" and the suspicion that it has some
connection with insanity.
Ficino also argued for special diets to control the negative aspects
(lots of sugar and cinnamon), and, in a controversial final section,
for astrological talismans to concentrate good forces and repel bad
ones. This was dangerous ground, obviously shading into magic, and
protesting that he was vindicating Free Will against astrological
determinism was not much of a cover.
Although a very high`proportion of the thousands of websites
mentioning Ficino seem interested mainly in Ficino the Great
Astrologer or Ficino the Renaissance Platonist, he was a lot more
complicated, as Kaske and Clark make clear. Nothing will make "
"Three Books on Life" easy reading, but they have done everything
possible to make it intelligible to modern readers.
Commentary on Plato's Symposium on Love by Marsilio Ficino,
translated by Sears Jayne (Spring Publications) Second Revised
edition, with an extraordinarily rich bibliographical appendix
covering the literature in many languages pertaining to this work
and its influence.
This great treatise is considered the most influential philosophical
work coming out of the Italian Rennaissance. Edward S. Casey
writes, "Ficino argues for the divinity of love while being equally
alert to its daemonic dimentions. Along the way, he offers
delightful insights into the actual practice of love. Sears Jayne's
lucid translation brings into elegant English the tenor of the
amazing opus on the soul and spirit and body of love."
One of the most accurate assessments of Ficino's De amore ever
written is a statement by one of Ficino's contemporaries, a
professor of Aristotelean philosophy named Agostino Nifo (c.
1473-1546), who says of it: "Amplifying Plato's views on love partly
by allegorizing Plato and partly by adding to him, Ficino made a not
unskillful compilation of many different ideas about love.") The
best way to go about a first reading of the De amore is to think of
it exactly as Nifo suggests, not as a commentary on the Symposium,
but as a compilation of ideas about love.
The main argument of the De amore as a treatise on love may be
paraphrased as follows: the cosmos consists of a hierarchy of being
extending from God (unity) to the physical world (multiplicity). In
this hierarchy every level evolves from the level above it in a
descending emanation from God and desires to rise to the level above
it in an ascending return to God. This desire to return to one's
source is called love, and the quality in the source which attracts
this desire is called beauty. The human soul, as a part of the
hierarchy of being, is involved in this same process of descent from
God and return to God; in human beings the desire to procreate
inferior beings is called earthly love, and the desire to rise to
higher levels of being is called heavenly love. Human love is
therefore a good thing because in both of its phases, descending and
ascending, it is part of a natural cosmic process in which all
creatures share.
Ficino decided to use the Symposium of Plato as his vehicle to
express the arc of human and divine love. It was an appropriate
vehicle because it was on his subject and because it was new; his
was the first complete translation of the dialogue ever written. It
was because of the convention of the commentary as a substitute for
the discursive treatise that Ficino wrote his treatise on love in
the form of a commentary, and it was because of the relevance of the
Symposium to his own subject, Socratic love, that he chose to attach
his commentary to the Symposium. But, as in the case of the banquet
fiction, Ficino does not carry out the commentary fiction
systematically because both fictions are there only for the sake of
the argument which he wanted to advance, his defense of human love.
By cosmic love Ficino means the cycle of emanation and reversion in
the cosmos as described by Proclus, the Pseudo-Dionysius, and the
author of the Liber de causis. This cosmos is a series of concentric
circles, with the highest form of being, the abstract One, at the
center, and successively lower forms emanating outward to the
physical world which forms the outermost circle. Though Ficino had
doubtless read and probably used all three of these authors, I
think it very likely that his immediate model was the Convivio (or
Symposium) of Dante. Ficino had begun his Platonic studies in 1456
at the behest of a leading Dantist, Cristoforo Landino, and it is
likely that Landino suggested the Convivio to him as a model.
Dante's Convivio, like Ficino's De amore, is a banquet, a
philosophical feast in which Dante celebrates as his key idea the
cosmic nature of love. He describes the universe as a hierarchy in
which every level of being is united in a desire to ascend to God.
The highest desire of everything, given to it by nature in the
beginning, is to return to its own source. Since God is the source
of our souls and made them in his image, our souls desire above all
to return to God. (4.12.14-19)
The universe is made coherent by the cosmic love for God which
pervades all creation:
Love is the heartbeat of the whole universe. Everything participates
in it according to its own special love, from simple bodies, to
composite bodies, to plants, to animals, to man. (3.3.2-11)
Dante's immediate source for this vision may have been the
PseudoDionysius's Divine Names, but the same conception also
appears in the Liber de causis, which Dante cites by name:
Every substantial form proceeds from its own first cause, which is
God, as the Liber de causis says. Therefore its being derives from
God, it is preserved by God, and it naturally desires to be united
to God, to strengthen its own being. (3.2.4-7)
Dante's stress on the personality of God as the source of the
outpouring of being and the object of every creature's search for
being is certainly Christian rather than Proclean. Ficino, too, can
sound very Christian (e.g., the chapter heading of VII. 1 7), but in
places he sounds neither Christian nor Proclean, but Plotinian, as
where he stresses the point that the One is above being (e.g., 1.3).
In VI.1 6 we are told that the stages of love are: World Body, World
Soul, Angelic Mind, and God; but in VII. 1 3 that the levels are
Nature, Opinion, Reason, and Intellect. In still other places (e.g.,
IV.3-4), Ficino speaks as if man were not a participant in the ebb
and flow of cosmic love at all, but only a spectator who stands
apart and tries to make up his mind whether to love God or himself.
In still other places, we hear that not all creatures are involved
in the process of cosmic love after all: the artist, for example,
loves not God but the idea of order (III.3); the wolf loves not God
but himself; and on that account hates lambs (III.4), which are
presumably beneath him in the hierarchy of being and thus constitute
an exception to the Proclean rule that higher orders desire to
create lower orders, not to destroy them. In short, the concept of
cosmic love in the De amore is not based on any single authority and
indeed is not any one concept. What Ficino is trying to do in the De
amore is to defend the propriety of personal love by showing that
it is merely a natural part of a perfectly respectable cosmic
process; he is simply trying to persuade the reader, by celebrating
the universality of love in the world, that love is a good thing:
"So my friends, I urge and beg you to give yourselves to love
without reservation, for it is not base but divine" (11.8).
As we have seen, Ficino had at his disposal in writing the De amore
three principal groups of authorities, the "Latin" Platonists, the
Scholastic theologians, and the "Greek" Platonists whom he had just
translated. In writing about the human soul, Ficino skips
eclectically from one to another among these three sources.
On the history of the soul, for example, he states both the
heretical Platonic view that the soul descends from a previous
existence (IV.4) and the orthodox Christian view that the soul is
created by God directly on earth and rises toward bliss in heaven
(IV.5). In several places he reviews the whole history of the soul
in Platonic terms, covering its descent and its ascent (e.g., VII.
1 3-14), but he also gives a Thomistic account of the soul's
pursuit of divine virtues (IV.5-6) which is no less vivid than his
Plotinian account of the soul's "upward way" through the hypostases
(VI. 1 8-1 9). On the question of the soul's faculties, he is
usually Aristotelean: thus in VI.6 he discusses the process of
perception in terms of the Aristotelean outer and inner senses, and
his conception of the imagination10 accords loosely with those of
Avicenna and Albert. Elsewhere (e.g., VI.1 5) he says that
"Intellect is not a natural and inherent faculty of the soul."
Still elsewhere (VII. 1 3) he distinguishes Intellect from Reason as
parts of the soul, in the usual Platonic way. At the critical point
in the description of the soul's functions, where he must say
whether the soul constructs its universals by abstraction, or rather
merely compares particulars with universals which are innate, he
says, "there immediately appears in the Intellect another species of
this image" (VII. 1).
In Ficino's earlier defenses of love (the De divino furore and De
voluptate), he had not found it necessary to discuss beauty at all,
because his major sources there, Proclus and his heirs, had defined
love as a desire to return to the cause, to recover the more perfect
being from which all creatures have degenerated in the process of
being created. But both of the Greek authors whom Ficino had been
reading more recently, Plato and Plotinus, define love as the desire
for beauty)! Thus in the De amore, beauty becomes an important
subject. Unfortunately, as soon as Ficino tried to define beauty, he
found himself once more confronting a disagreement between the
Platonists and the Aristoteleans. The Platonists defined beauty as
an abstract universal existing separately in the mind of God,
whereas the Aristoteleans defined beauty as an abstraction
generated by the individual human mind from many particular sense
experiences. Moreover, most medieval and renaissance theorists,12
from Bonaventure to`Alberti, believed that beauty was a form which
was given to matter, an order or arrangement imposed upon objects of
experience, whereas the Platonists held that beauty was an abstract
quality in which physical objects participated in various degrees.
Ficino's solution to these differences of opinion is, as usual, to
present them all and let the reader take his choice. Thus in the
opening section of the De amore (1.3-4), he gives as the basic
working definition of beauty simply the commonsense definition
which he knew that his artist friends would approve, the pragmatic
IAristotelean definition employed by Alberti, that beauty is a way of
ordering experience. Elsewhere, however (V.5), he also gives the
Platonic definition of beauty as participation in an undefinable
Ideal. In still another place (V.6), he tries to combine the two
concepts by drawing an analogy with the concept of infused virtue in
Aquinas: it is true, he says, that beauty is a quality or grace
infused into a thing by God, by an act of grace, but a thing can be
prepared to receive this grace by arranging its parts, by imposing
arrangement, order, or harmony upon it; though the virtue of beauty
is actually an infused virtue, it will be given only to objects
which have acquired the natural virtue of order and harmony. Just
as the idea of qualities infused by grace is not original with
Ficino, so his application of the idea to the particular problem of
the nature of beauty is not his own either. It may be found in the
same work which we have already cited as one of his sources for the
concept of cosmic love, the Convivio of Dante.
In the Platonic theology of the school of Proclus, love is conceived
of as a cosmic force in which individual human beings participate
willy-nilly, along with all other creatures, falling and rising,
emanating from and reverting to the One, just as all the rest of the
universe does. The Proclus school sees man as merely one of the
participants in the universal two-stage cosmic process, following
first the urge to be a cause oneself and then the urge to return to
one's own cause. Human love is in effect indistinguishable from its
cosmic matrix, and the individual will is not really free. The human
soul is merely a spark of light emanating from the divine sun. In
some places the De amore appears to endorse this view:
. . . the ray of beauty which is both Plenty and the father of love,
has the power to be reflected back to what it came from, and it
draws the lover with it. But it descends first from God, and passes
through the Angel and the Soul, as if they were made of glass; and
from the Soul it easily emanates into the body prepared to receive
it. Then from that body of a younger man it shines out, especially
through the eyes, the transparent windows of the soul. It flies
onward through the air, and penetrating the eyes of an older man,
pierces his soul, kindles his appetite, then leads the wounded soul
and the kindled appetite to their healing and cooling, respectively,
while it carries them with it to the same place from which it had
itself descended, step-by-step, indeed, first to the body of the
beloved, second to the Soul, third, to the Angel, and finally to
God, the first origin of this splendor. (VI.10)
In other places, however, Ficino appears to endorse a view more like
that of Plato and Plotinus: the soul`begins in heaven, falls into
the body, and then reascends to heaven, but the individual soul is
free to eschew the desire for the body which causes it to fall and
free also to decide when, or if, it will turn to the desire for
ideal beauty, which causes it to rise. That is, once born into the
flesh, man is free to choose between earthly love and heavenly love:
He who uses love properly certainly praises the beauty of the body,
but through that contemplates the higher beauty of the soul, the
Mind, and God, and admires and loves that more strongly. (11.7)
In still other places Ficino appears to be thinking in terms of
Aquinas's view of love as a matter of choosing between love of self
and love of God:
so that we shall seem to have first worshipped God in things, in
order later to worship things in God, and to worship things in God
for this reason, in order to recover ourselves in Him above all, and
in loving God we shall seem to have loved ourselves. (VI.19)
Thus the section on human love in the De amore follows the same
method as the other four sections: it presents different views of
human love without trying to argue out their relative merits or to
resolve the obvious contradictions among them. Here, as elsewhere,
Ficino prefers to say, "We think that both of these opinions are
true, but each for a different reason" (VI.1).
Of the three main kinds of love, the last kind, "simple" (i.e.,
physical) love, is given the most emphatic position, and it is also
described in the least ambiguous way, giving a mainly traditional
physiological account of the causes and cures of love considered as
a disease of the spirits and blood.14 But even here Ficino
introduces one new authority, namely Lucretius. Able at last to make
some public use of the Lucretian studies of his youth, he cites
Lucretius six times in support of the argument that physical love
must be a good thing because it is physiologically natural.
Plato's Third Eye: Studies in Marsilio Ficino's Metaphysics and Its
Sources (Collected Studies, No CS483) by Michael J. B. Allen
(Variorum) A collection of essays by Michael J. B. Allen before
1995.
Marsilio Ficino: His Theology, His Philosophy, His Legacy (Brill's
Studies in Intellectual History) by Michael
J. B. Allen, Valery
Rees, and Martin Davies (Brill Academic) This volume consists of 21
essays on Marsilio Ficino (1433-99), the great Florentine scholar,
philosopher and priest who was the architect of Renaissance
Platonism and whose long-lasting influence on philosophy, love and
music theory, medicine and magic extended across Europe. Grouped
into three sections, they cover such topics as priesthood, the
influence of Hermetic monism, Plotinus and Augustine, Jewish
transmission of the prisca theologia, the 15th c. Plato-Aristotle
controversy, the soul and its afterlife, the primacy of the will,
theriac and musical therapy, the notions of matter, seeds, mirrors
and clocks, and other fascinating philosophical and theological
issues. Also considered are Ficino’s critics, his relationship to
the Camaldolese Order, his letters to princes, his influence on art,
on Copernicus, on Chapman, and the nature of the Platonic Academy.
All those interested in intellectual history, the Renaissance,
Platonism; history and philosophy of religion (Christian and
Jewish), history of art, political theory, literature, early
science, medicine and music.
Introduction, Michael J. B. Allen
PART I: 1. Ficino the Priest, Peter Serracino-Inglott 2. The
Camaldolese Academy: Ambrogio Traversari, Marsilio Ficino and the
Christian Platonic Tradition, Dennis F. Lackner 3. Marsilio Ficino
as a Christian Thinker: Theological Aspects of his Platonism, Jörg
Lauster 4. Late Antiquity and Florentine Platonism: The
‘Post-Plotinian’ Ficino, Christopher S. Celenza 5. Ficino, Augustine
and the Pagans, Anthony Levi 6. Echoes of Egypt in Hermes and
Ficino, Clement Salaman 7. Prisca Theologia in Marsilio Ficino and
in Some Jewish Treatments, Moshe Idel 8. Life as a Dead Platonist,
Michael J. B. Allen
PART II: 9. Marsilio Ficino and the Plato-Aristotle Controversy,
John Monfasani 10. Intellect and Will in Marsilio Ficino: Two
Correlatives of a Renaissance Concept of the Mind, Tamara Albertini
11. Orpheus redivivus: The Musical Magic of Marsilio Ficino, Angela
Voss 12. Ficino, Theriaca and the Stars, Donald Beecher 13. Concepts
of Seeds and Nature in the Work of Marsilio Ficino, Hiroshi Hirai
14. Narcissus, Divine Gazes and Bloody Mirrors: the Concept of
Matter in Ficino, Sergius Kodera 15. Ficino, Archimedes and the
Celestial Arts, Stéphane Toussaint
PART III: 16. Neoplatonism and the Visual Arts at the Time of
Marsilio Ficino, Francis Ames-Lewis
17. Ficino’s Advice to Princes, Valery Rees 18. The Platonic Academy
of Florence, Arthur Field 19. Ficino in the Firing Line: A
Renaissance Neoplatonist and His Critics, Jill Kraye 20. Ficino and
Copernicus, Dilwyn Knox; 21. ‘To rauish and refine an earthly
soule’: Ficino and the Poetry of George Chapman, Stephen Clucas
Illustrations, Bibliography, List of Contributors, Index
Contributors include: Tamara Albertini, Michael J. B. Allen, Francis
Ames-Lewis, Donald Beecher, Christopher S. Celenza, Stephen Clucas,
Arthur Field, Hiroshi Hirai, Moshe Idel, Dilwyn Knox, Sergius
Kodera, Jill Kraye, Dennis F. Lackner, Jörg Lauster, Anthony Levi,
John Monfasani, Valery Rees, Clement Salaman, Peter
Serracino-Inglott, M. Stéphane Toussaint, and Angela Voss.
***
Evermore Shall Be So: Ficino on Plato’s Parmenides translated by Arthur Farndell (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 1 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 2 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 3 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 4 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 5 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 6 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 7 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 8 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 9 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 10 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 11 (Shepheard-Walwyn)
The Letters of Marsilio Ficino Volume 12 (Shepheard-Walwyn)