(1) It is also said, that Pythagoras was the first who called himself a philosopher; this not being a new name, but previously instructing us in a useful manner in a thing appropriate to the name. For he said that the entrance of men into the present life, resembled the progression of a crowd to some public spectacle. For there men of every description assemble with different views; one hastening to sell his wares for the sake of money and gain; but another that he may acquire renown by exhibiting the strength of his body; and there is also a third class of men, and those the most liberal, who assemble for the sake of surveying the places, the beautiful works of art, the specimens of valor, and the literary productions which are usually exhibited on such occasions.

Thus also in the present life, men of all-various pursuits are collected together in one and the same place. For some are influenced by the desire of riches and luxury; others by the love of power and dominion; and others are possessed with an insane ambition for glory. But the most pure and unadulterated character, is that of the man who gives himself to the contemplation of the most beautiful things, and whom it is proper to call a philosopher. He adds, that the survey of all heaven, and of the stars that revolve in it, is indeed beautiful, when the order of them is considered. For they derive this beauty and order by the participation of the first and the intelligible essence.

But that first essence is the nature of number and reasons [i. e. productive principles,] which pervades through all things, and according to which all these [celestial bodies] are elegantly arranged, and fitly adorned. And wisdom indeed, truly so called, is a certain science which is conversant with the first beautiful objects, and these divine, undecaying, and possessing an invariable sameness of subsistence; by the participation of which other things also may be called beautiful. But philosophy is the appetition of a thing of this kind. The attention therefore to erudition is likewise beautiful, which Pythagoras extended, in order to effect the correction of mankind.

(5) Would that it were possible for thee to get thee wings, and soar into the air, and, poised midway 'tween earth and heaven, behold the earth's solidity, the sea's fluidity (the flowings of its streams), the spaciousness of air, fire's swiftness, [and] the coursing of the stars, the swiftness of heaven's circuit round them [all]! Most blessed sight were it, my son, to see all these beneath one sway - the motionless in motion, and the unmanifest made manifest; whereby is made this order of the cosmos and the cosmos which we see of order.

(4) Some naturalists [scientists] or artists have undertaken to measure that height and distance, and have produced many strange and monstrous devices. Indeed, before this my knowledge and revelation of God, I held that only to be the true heaven, which in a round circumference and sphere, very azure of a light blue colour, extends itself above the stars, supposing that God had therein his peculiar being, and did rule only in the power of his holy spirit in this world.

(15) The same holds also of astronomy. For treating of the description of the celestial objects, about the form of the universe, and the revolution of the heavens, and the motion of the stars, leading the soul nearer to the creative power, it teaches to quickness in perceiving the seasons of the year, the changes of the air, and the appearance of the stars; since also navigation and husbandry derive from this much benefit, as architecture and building from geometry. This branch of learning, too, makes the soul in the highest degree observant, capable of perceiving the true and detecting the false, of discovering correspondences and proportions, so as to hunt out for similarity in things dissimilar; and conducts us to the discovery of length without breadth, and superficial extent without thickness, and an indivisible point, and transports to intellectual objects from those of sense.

(1) [Trismegistus] ’Tis in this way, Asclepius;—by mixing it, by means of subtle expositions, with divers sciences not easy to be grasped,—such as arithmetic, and music, and geometry. But Pure Philosophy, which doth depend on godly piety alone, should only so far occupy itself with other arts, that it may [know how to] appreciate the working out in numbers of the fore-appointed stations of the stars when they return, and of the course of their procession. Let her, moreover, know how to appreciate the Earth’s dimensions, its qualities and quantities, the Water’s depths, the strength of Fire, and the effects and nature of all these. [And so] let her give worship and give praise unto the Art and Mind of God.

(15) An astronomer who, by his knowledge, can map the stars and describe their courses, derives more pleasure from his knowledge than the chess player from his. Seeing, then, that nothing is higher than God, how great must be the delight which springs from the true knowledge of Him!

(2) [Now,] seeing that the hollow roundness of the Cosmos is borne round into the fashion of a sphere; by reason of its [very] quality or form, it never can be altogether visible unto itself. So that, however high a place in it thou shouldest choose for looking down below, thou could’st not see from it what is at bottom, because in many places it confronts [the senses], and so is thought to have the quality [of being visible throughout]. For it is solely owing to the forms of species, with images of which it seems insculpted, that it is thought [to be] as though ’twere visible [throughout]; but as a fact ’tis ever to itself invisible.

(1) After the truth against the present life Of miserable mortals was unfolded By her who doth imparadise my mind, As in a looking-glass a taper's flame He sees who from behind is lighted by it, Before he has it in his sight or thought, And turns him round to see if so the glass Tell him the truth, and sees that it accords Therewith as doth a music with its metre, In similar wise my memory recollecteth That I did, looking into those fair eyes, Of which Love made the springes to ensnare me. And as I turned me round, and mine were touched By that which is apparent in that volume, Whenever on its gyre we gaze intent, A point beheld I, that was raying out Light so acute, the sight which it enkindles Must close perforce before such great acuteness. And whatsoever star seems smallest here Would seem to be a moon, if placed beside it. As one star with another star is placed. Perhaps at such a distance as appears A halo cincturing the light that paints it, When densest is the vapour that sustains it,

(5) Now in our case the intellect doth differ from the sense in this,—that by the mind’s extension intellect can reach to the intelligence and the discernment of the quality of Cosmic Sense. The Intellect of Cosmos, on the other hand, extends to the Eternity and to the Gnosis of the Gods who are above itself. And thus it comes to pass for men, that we perceive the things in Heaven, as it were through a mist, as far as the condition of the human sense allows. ’Tis true that the extension [of the mind] which we possess for the survey of such transcendent things, is very narrow [still]; but [it will be] most ample when it shall perceive with the felicity of [true] self-consciousness.

(4) On which account, if thou unto the virtue Apply thy measure, not to the appearance Of substances that unto thee seem round, Thou wilt behold a marvellous agreement, Of more to greater, and of less to smaller, In every heaven, with its Intelligence." Even as remaineth splendid and serene The hemisphere of air, when Boreas Is blowing from that cheek where he is mildest, Because is purified and resolved the rack That erst disturbed it, till the welkin laughs With all the beauties of its pageantry; Thus did I likewise, after that my Lady Had me provided with her clear response, And like a star in heaven the truth was seen. And soon as to a stop her words had come, Not otherwise does iron scintillate When molten, than those circles scintillated. Their coruscation all the sparks repeated, And they so many were, their number makes More millions than the doubling of the chess. I heard them sing hosanna choir by choir To the fixed point which holds them at the 'Ubi,' And ever will, where they have ever been.

(1) As much as 'twixt the close of the third hour And dawn of day appeareth of that sphere Which aye in fashion of a child is playing, So much it now appeared, towards the night, Was of his course remaining to the sun; There it was evening, and 'twas midnight here; And the rays smote the middle of our faces, Because by us the mount was so encircled, That straight towards the west we now were going When I perceived my forehead overpowered Beneath the splendour far more than at first, And stupor were to me the things unknown, Whereat towards the summit of my brow I raised my hands, and made myself the visor Which the excessive glare diminishes. As when from off the water, or a mirror, The sunbeam leaps unto the opposite side, Ascending upward in the selfsame measure That it descends, and deviates as far From falling of a stone in line direct, (As demonstrate experiment and art,) So it appeared to me that by a light Refracted there before me I was smitten; On which account my sight was swift to flee.

(6) But all things must be made; both ever made, and also in accordance with the influence of every space. For He who makes, is in them all; not stablished in some one of them, nor making one thing only, but making all. For being Power, He energizeth in the things He makes and is not independent of them - although the things He makes are subject to Him. Now gaze through Me upon the Cosmos that's now subject to thy sight; regard its Beauty carefully - Body in pure perfection, though one than which there's no more ancient one, ever in prime of life, and ever-young, nay, rather, in even fuller and yet fuller prime!

(1) Let him imagine, who would well conceive What now I saw, and let him while I speak Retain the image as a steadfast rock, The fifteen stars, that in their divers regions The sky enliven with a light so great That it transcends all clusters of the air; Let him the Wain imagine unto which Our vault of heaven sufficeth night and day, So that in turning of its pole it fails not; Let him the mouth imagine of the horn That in the point beginneth of the axis Round about which the primal wheel revolves,— To have fashioned of themselves two signs in heaven, Like unto that which Minos' daughter made, The moment when she felt the frost of death; And one to have its rays within the other, And both to whirl themselves in such a manner That one should forward go, the other backward; And he will have some shadowing forth of that True constellation and the double dance That circled round the point at which I was; Because it is as much beyond our wont, As swifter than the motion of the Chiana Moveth the heaven that all the rest outspeeds.

(4) But what slipped from our view in the midst of our discourse, the Good is Cause of the celestial movements in their commencements and terminations, of their not increasing, not diminishing, and completely changeless, course, and of the noiseless movements, if one may so speak, of the vast celestial transit, and of the astral orders, and the beauties and lights, and stabilities, and the progressive swift motion of certain stars, and of the periodical return of the two luminaries, which the Oracles call "great," from the same to the same quarter, after which our days and nights being marked, and months and years being measured, mark and number and arrange and comprehend the circular movements of time and things temporal. But, what would any one say of the very ray of the sun? For the light is from the Good, and an image of the Goodness, wherefore also the Good is celebrated under the name of Light; as in a portrait the original is manifested. For, as the goodness of the Deity, beyond all, permeates from the highest and most honoured substances even to the lowest, and yet is above all, neither the foremost outstripping its superiority, nor the things below eluding its grasp, but it both enlightens all that are capable, and forms and enlivens, and grasps, and perfects, and is measure of things existing, and age, and number, and order, and grasp, and cause, and end; so, too, the brilliant likeness of the Divine Goodness, this our great sun, wholly bright and ever luminous, as a most distant echo of the Good, both enlightens whatever is capable of participating in it, and possesses the light in the highest degree of purity, unfolding to the visible universe, above and beneath, the splendours of its own rays, and if anything does not participate in them, this is not owing to the inertness or deficiency of its distribution of light, but is owing to the inaptitude for light-reception of the things which do not unfold themselves for the participation of light. No doubt the ray passing over many things in such condition, enlightens the things after them, and there is no visible thing which it does not reach, with the surpassing greatness of its own splendour. Further also, it contributes to the generation of sensible bodies, and moves them to life, and nourishes, and increases, and perfects, and purifies and renews; and the light is both measure and number of hours, days, and all our time. For it is the light itself, even though it was then without form, which the divine Moses declared to have fixed that first Triad of our days. And, just as Goodness turns all things to Itself, and is chief collector of things scattered, as One-springing and One-making Deity, and all things aspire to It, as Source and Bond and End, and it is the Good, as the Oracles say, from Which all things subsisted, and are being brought into being by an all-perfect Cause; and in Which all things consisted, as guarded and governed in an all-controlling route; and to Which all things are turned, as to their own proper end; and to Which all aspire --the intellectual and rational indeed, through knowledge, and the sensible through the senses, and those bereft of sensible perception by the innate movement of the aspiration after life, and those without life, and merely being, by their aptitude for mere substantial participation; after the same method of its illustrious original, the light also collects and turns to itself all things existing--things with sight -- things with motion--things enlightened--things heated--things wholly held together by its brilliant splendours--whence also, Helios, because it makes all things altogether (ἀολλῆ), and collects things scattered. And all creatures, endowed with sensible perceptions, aspire to it, as aspiring either to see, or to be moved and enlightened, and heated, and to be wholly held together by the light. By no means do I affirm, after the statement of antiquity, that as being God and Creator of the universe, the sun, by itself, governs the luminous world, but that the invisible things of God are clearly seen from the foundation of the world, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Deity.

(35) Now if a man likeneth the Son of God to the globe of the sun, as I have often done in the foregoing chapters, that is spoken in the way and manner of natural similitudes; and I was constrained to write so, because of the lack of understanding of the Reader, that so he might raise his sense or thoughts in these natural things, and climb from step to step, from one degree to another, till he might come into the high Mysteries.

(2) If nothing, then, is void, so also Space by its own self does not show what it is unless you add to it lengths, breadths [and depths],—just as you add the proper marks unto men’s bodies. These things, then, being thus, Asclepius, and ye who are with [him],—know the Intelligible Cosmos (that is, [the one] which is discerned by contemplation of the mind alone) is bodiless; nor can aught corporal be mingled with its nature,—[by corporal I mean] what can be known by quality, by quantity, and numbers. For there is nothing of this kind in that.

(2) Thus distant round the point a circle of fire So swiftly whirled, that it would have surpassed Whatever motion soonest girds the world; And this was by another circumcinct, That by a third, the third then by a fourth, By a fifth the fourth, and then by a sixth the fifth; The seventh followed thereupon in width So ample now, that Juno's messenger Entire would be too narrow to contain it. Even so the eighth and ninth; and every one More slowly moved, according as it was In number distant farther from the first. And that one had its flame most crystalline From which less distant was the stainless spark, I think because more with its truth imbued. My Lady, who in my anxiety Beheld me much perplexed, said: "From that point Dependent is the heaven and nature all. Behold that circle most conjoined to it, And know thou, that its motion is so swift Through burning love whereby it is spurred on." And I to her: "If the world were arranged In the order which I see in yonder wheels, What's set before me would have satisfied me;

(1) Of his wisdom, however, the commentaries written by the Pythagoreans afford, in short, the greatest indication; for they adhere to truth in every thing, and are more concise than all other compositions, so that they savour of the ancient elegance of style, and the conclusions are exquisitely deduced with divine science. They are also replete with the most condensed conceptions, and are in other respects various and diversified both in the form and the matter. At one and the same time likewise, they are transcendently excellent, and without any deficiency in the diction, and are in an eminent degree full of clear and indubitable arguments, accompanied with scientific demonstration, and as it is said, the most perfect syllogism; as he will find to be the case, who, proceeding in such paths as are fit, does not negligently peruse them.

This science, therefore, concerning intelligible natures and the Gods, Pythagoras delivers in his writings from a supernal origin. Afterwards, he teaches the whole of physics, and unfolds completely ethical philosophy and logic. He likewise delivers all-various disciplines, and the most excellent sciences. And in short there is nothing pertaining to human knowledge which is not accurately discussed in these writings. If therefore it is acknowledged, that of the [Pythagoric] writings which are now in circulation, some were written by Pythagoras himself, but others consist of what he was heard to say, and on this account are anonymous, but are referred to Pythagoras as their author;—if this be the case, it is evident that he was abundantly skilled in all wisdom.

But it is said that he very much applied himself to geometry among the Egyptians. For with the Egyptians there are many geometrical problems; since it is necessary that from remote periods, and from the time of the Gods themselves, on account of the increments and decrements of the Nile, those that were skilful should have measured all the Egyptian land which they cultivated. Hence also geometry derived its name. Neither did they negligently investigate the theory of the celestial orbs, in which likewise Pythagoras was skilled. Moreover, all the theorems about lines appear to have been derived from thence. For it is said that what pertains to computation and numbers, was discovered in Phœnicia. For some persons refer the theorems about the celestial bodies to the Egyptians and Chaldeans in common.

It is said therefore, that Pythagoras having received and increased all these [theories,] imparted the sciences, and at the same time demonstrated them to his auditors with perspicuity and elegance. And he was the first indeed that denominated philosophy, and said that it was the desire, and as it were love of wisdom. But he defined wisdom to be the science of the truth which is in beings. And he said that beings are immaterial and eternal natures, and alone possess an efficacious power, such as incorporeal essences. But that the rest of things are only homonymously beings, and are so denominated through the participation of real beings, and such are corporeal and material forms, which are generated and corrupted, and never truly are.

And that wisdom is the science of things which are properly beings, but not of such as are homonymously so. For corporeal natures are neither the objects of science nor admit of a stable knowledge, since they are infinite and incomprehensible by science, and are as it were, non-beings, when compared with universals, and are incapable of being properly circumscribed by definition. It is impossible however to conceive that there should be science of things which are not naturally the objects of science. Hence it is not probable that there will be a desire of science which has no subsistence, but rather that desire will be extended to things which are properly beings, which exist with invariable permanency, and are always consubsistent with a true appellation.

For it happens that the perception of things which are homonymously beings, and which are never truly what they seem to be, follows the apprehension of real beings; just as the knowledge of particulars follows the science of universals. For he who knows universals properly, says Archytas, will also have a clear perception of the nature of particulars. Hence things which have an existence are not alone, nor only-begotten, nor simple, but they are seen to be various and multiform. For some of them are intelligible and incorporeal natures, and which are denominated beings; but others are corporeal and fall under the perception of sense, and by participation communicate with that which has a real existence. Concerning all these therefore, he delivered the most appropriate sciences, and left nothing [pertaining to them] uninvestigated.

He likewise unfolded to men those sciences which are common [ to all disciplines ,] as for instance the demonstrative, the definitive, and that which consists in dividing, as may be known from the Pythagoric commentaries. He was also accustomed to pour forth sentences resembling Oracles to his familiars in a symbolical manner, and which in the greatest brevity of words contained the most abundant and multifarious meaning, like the Pythian Apollo through certain oracles, or like nature herself through seeds small in bulk, the former exhibiting conceptions, and the latter effects, innumerable in multitude, and difficult to be understood. Of this kind is the sentence, The beginning is the half of the whole , which is an apothegm of Pythagoras himself.

But not only in the present hemistich, but in others of a similar nature, the most divine Pythagoras has concealed the sparks of truth; depositing as in a treasury for those who are capable of being enkindled by them, and with a certain brevity of diction, an extension of theory most ample and difficult to be comprehended, as in the following hemistich:

(14) When we behold heaven and the stars, then we behold his eternal power and wisdom: So many stars stand in the whole heaven that they are innumerable and incomprehensible to reason, and some of them are not visible, so manifold and [so] various is the power and wisdom of God the Father.

(1) Remember, Reader, if e'er in the Alps A mist o'ertook thee, through which thou couldst see Not otherwise than through its membrane mole, How, when the vapours humid and condensed Begin to dissipate themselves, the sphere Of the sun feebly enters in among them, And thy imagination will be swift In coming to perceive how I re-saw The sun at first, that was already setting. Thus, to the faithful footsteps of my Master Mating mine own, I issued from that cloud To rays already dead on the low shores. O thou, Imagination, that dost steal us So from without sometimes, that man perceives not, Although around may sound a thousand trumpets, Who moveth thee, if sense impel thee not? Moves thee a light, which in the heaven takes form, By self, or by a will that downward guides it. Of her impiety, who changed her form Into the bird that most delights in singing, In my imagining appeared the trace; And hereupon my mind was so withdrawn Within itself, that from without there came Nothing that then might be received by it.