Mysticism in the Enneads

Mysticism in the Enneads of Plotinus

Chapters on mysticism

Phases: Mystical Union with the One

Phases of Mystical Union with the One (Mazur 2021):

Phase 1: Catharsis – abandonment of sense perception, but then also the emptying of formal relations and delimitations from one’s consciousness
Phase 2: Mystical self-reversion – self-contraction or self-cognition
Phase 3: Autophany – the sudden vision of, or within, oneself (“1 becomes 2”: recognition of transcendental self)
- Phase 3.2: Self-unification – coming into a complete identity with one’s transcendental self, which is in a realm between Intellect and the One (“2 become 1”: coalescence with transcendental self)
Phase 4: Annihilation – rejection of even transcendental self-identity
Phase 5: Union with the One – coalescence of the aspirant and the One
- Phase 5.2: Desubjectification – abandonment of subjectivity and the reversal from contraction to expansion

These are not strictly delineated, discrete phases in the Enneads, but rather form a dynamic continuum.

Phase 1: Catharsis

(3.8.10)

Self-purification, aphairesis, from any contamination with multiplicity (of any thought, any knowledge, any mental activity):

III.8[30].10.31–32: “remove” Being itself

Phase 2: Mystical self-reversion

(1.6.9; 4.8.1; 6.9.7; 3.8.9; 5.8.11; 5.5.7)

I.6[1].9.7: “go back into yourself and look”
IV.8[6].1.1–2: “awakening into myself and coming to be outside of all other things but within myself”
VI.9[9].7.17–18: “[the soul] must turn completely to the within”
III.8[30].9.29–31: “The intellect … must (so to speak) ‘withdraw backwards’ and surrender itself to what lies behind it”
V.8[31].11.10–11: “running into the within”
V.5[32].7.32: “Intellect … contracting into its interior”

Phase 3: Autophany

Luminous vision of one's own self (1.6.9; 6.9.11; 5.5.8):

I.6[1].9.22–25: “… if you see yourself having become this … having become vision … this alone is the eye that sees the great beauty”
VI.9[9].11.43–44: “if one should see oneself having become this, one has oneself as a likeness of that [One]”
V.5[32].8.12–13: “[Intellect] sees, first of all, itself, having become more beautiful and glistening”

The self and the One appear simultaneously (6.9.9; 6.8.19):

VI.9[9].9.56–58: “Here, at this point, one can see both him and oneself as it is right to see: the self glorified, full of intelligible light—but rather itself pure light, weightless, floating, having become—but rather, being—a god”
VI.8[39].19.1–2: “one should take hold … of that [One] itself, and one will also see himself”

In certain cases, the vision of the self is coincident with, but still distinct from, the initial glimpse of the One.

In others some aspect of the One is said to appear “within” the beholder (described as either the self or the soul) (6.7.31,34-35; 6.8.15).

VI.7[38].31.8–9: “[the soul] saw, stricken, as it were, and she was conscious of having something of it in herself”
VI.7.34.12–13: “[the soul,] seeing it appearing suddenly in herself”
VI.7.35.19: [a god] “who filled the soul of the contemplator”
VI.8[39].15.14: “If ever we too, ourselves, should see within ourselves some nature of such [a kind as the Good]”

Phase 3.2: Self-unification

(6.9.3; 1.6.9; 5.8.11; 5.5.8)

VI.9[9].3.20–22: one must first “become one from many” in order to attain the One
I.6[1].9.16–17: “you, pure, ‘come together’ with yourself, having no impediment to thus coming towards one”
VI.9[9].10.10: “he will ‘be together’ with himself as such”
V.8[31].11.3–4: “he presents himself [to himself] and looks at a beautified image of himself, but dismisses the image though it is beautiful, coming into one with himself”
V.8[31].11.10–12: “from the beginning he perceives himself, so long as he is different; but running into the within, he has everything, and leaving perception behind in fear of being different, he is one there.”
V.5[32].8.12–13, a (temporal?) sequence in which the autophany clearly precedes the union, since the autophanous intellect “sees first of all itself” prior to the final moment of MUO

Phase 4: Annihilation

(6.9.7,10-11; 3.8.9; 5.8.11; 6.7.35; 5.5.8)

Abdication of knowledge—an “unknowing”—following the self-reversion

VI.9[9].7.18–21: “‘un-knowing’ all things (both as he had at first, in the sensible realm, then also, in that of the forms) and even ‘un-knowing’ himself, [the soul must] come to be in the vision of that….”
VI.9[9].10.15–16: at the final moment of union, the aspirant is “as if having become another and not himself nor belonging to himself there”
VI.9[9].11.11–12: “there was neither reason nor any thought, nor, entirely, a self, if one must say even this”
VI.9[9].11.23: the union is an “ekstasis … and a surrender of oneself”
III.8[30].9.29–32: self-surrender, “give itself up, as it were, to what lies behind it”
V.8[31].11.17: “immediately surrender himself to the within”
VI.7[38].35.33–34: the soul’s vision occurs “as if confusing and annihilating the intellect abiding within her”
V.5[32].8.22–23: “because it is Intellect, it looks, when it looks, with that of itself which is not Intellect”
VI.7[38].35.42–45: “Therefore the soul does not move, then, since that [One] does not either; nor, therefore, is it soul, because that [One] does not live, but is above life; nor is it intellect, because it does not think either”

Phase 5: Union with the One

(6.9.11; 6.7.34)

VI.9[9].11.4–6: “there were not two, but the seer himself was one in relation to the seen, for it was not really seen, but unified”
VI.7[38].34.13–14: “there are no longer two, but both are one”

Phase 5.2: Desubjectification

(6.9.10; 5.8.11; 3.8.9; 6.7.36)

VI.9[9].10.11–12: “perhaps one should not say, ‘will see,’ but ‘was seen’”
V.8[31].11.17–19: one becomes “instead of a seer, the object of contemplation of another contemplator, shining out with the kind of thoughts that come from there”
III.8[30].9.29–32: Intellect’s own procession as the “first life” (ζωὴ πρώτη) and as an “activity in the outgoing of all things”
VI.7[38].36.21–23: an effluent ray (augē) of light without a percipient, which, he says in the next breath, itself generates the subject-object distinction only “later,” ontologically speaking, at the inferior level of Intellect

Excerpts: Mystical Union with the One

1.6.7,9
4.8.1
6.9.4,7,9,11
3.8.9
5.8.11
5.5.7
6.7.31,34-36
6.8.15,19
5.3.17

I.6.7.1–19

The ascent to the Good.

[A2] I.6[1].7.1–19 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
We must, then, ascend to the Good, which every soul desires. If someone, then, has seen it, he knows what I mean when I say how beautiful it is. For it is desired as good, and the desire is directed to it as this, though the attainment of it is for those who ascend upward and revert to it and who divest themselves of the garments they put on when they descended. It is just like those who ascend to partake of the sacred religious rites where there are acts of purification and the stripping off of the cloaks they had worn before they go inside naked. One proceeds in the ascent, passing by all that is alien to the god until one sees by oneself alone that which is itself alone uncorrupted, simple, and pure, that upon which everything depends, and in relation to which one looks and exists and lives and thinks. For it is the cause of life and intellect. And, then, if someone sees this, what pangs of love will he feel, what longings and, wanting to be united with it, how would he not be overcome with pleasure? For though it is possible for one who has not yet seen it to desire it as good, for one who has seen it, there is amazement and delight in beauty, and he is filled with pleasure and he undergoes a painless shock, loving with true love and piercing longing. And he laughs at other loves and is disdainful of the things he previously regarded as beautiful.	And so one must reascend to the Good, for which every soul longs. If someone has seen it, he knows what I am saying, [and] the manner in which it is beautiful. It is desired as good, and the desire is towards this, yet the attainment of it is for those ascending towards the above and is for those who have been converted and who shed what we put on while descending—just as with those going up to the [inner] sanctuaries of the temples, the purifications and taking off of the clothing beforehand, and the going up naked—until, in the ascent leaving everything behind inasmuch as it is foreign to god, one should see, by oneself alone, it alone, absolute, simple, pure, from which everything depends and looks to it {and is, and lives, and thinks; for it is cause of life and mind and being}. If someone should see it, what a love he would have, what a longing, wishing to be commingled with it; how it would strike one with pleasure! For the one not yet seeing it, it is to be desired as good, but for the one seeing it, he is to be really delighted in its beauty and to be filled with amazement along with pleasure, and to be stricken harmlessly and to love with true love and a piercing longing, and to mock other loves and to despise what he previously considered beautiful.

I.6.9.7–25

The development of interior sight through the practice of virtue.

[A3] I.6[1].9.7–25 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
Go back into yourself and look. If you do not yet see yourself as beautiful, then be like a sculptor who, making a statue that is supposed to be beautiful, removes a part here and polishes a part there so that he makes the latter smooth and the former just right until he has given the statue a beautiful face. In the same way, you should remove superfluities and straighten things that are crooked, work on the things that are dark, making them bright, and not stop ‘working on your statue’ until the divine splendour of virtue shines in you, until you see ‘Self-Control enthroned on the holy seat’. If you have become this and have seen it and find yourself in a purified state, you have no impediment to becoming one in this way nor do you have something else mixed in with yourself, but you are entirely yourself, true light alone, neither measured by magnitude nor reduced by a circumscribing shape nor expanded indefinitely in magnitude but being unmeasured everywhere, as something greater than every measure and better than every quantity. If you see that you have become this, at that moment you have become sight, and you can be confident about yourself, and you have at this moment ascended here, no longer in need of someone to show you. Just open your eyes and see, for this alone is the eye that sees the great beauty.	Go back into yourself and look; and if you still do not see yourself beautiful, just as the maker of a statue which needs to be beautiful cuts some parts away and polishes others and makes some parts smooth and others pure until he has revealed the beautiful face in the statue, so also you cut away whatever is excessive, and straighten whatever is crooked, and remove whatever is dark and make it shiny, and not stop “crafting your statue” until you should see “temperance mounted upon a holy pedestal.” If you have become this, and see it, and, you, pure, “come together” with yourself, having no impediment to thus coming towards one, nor having with it anything else mixed inside, but wholly yourself, only true light, not measured by magnitude nor circumscribed into diminution by shape nor, conversely, expanded into magnitude by unboundedness, but everywhere unmeasurable because greater than all measure and better than all quantity; if you see yourself having become this, at this point, having become vision, you have confidence with respect to yourself, and in this very moment, having ascended, you have no need of a demonstrator; look intently; for this alone is the eye that sees the great beauty.

IV.8.1.1–11

Beginning with a vivid ‘autobiographical’ passage, Plotinus turns to an enquiry into the role of soul in general in the physical world.

[A4] IV.8[6].1.1–11 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
Often, after waking up to myself from the body, that is, externalizing myself in relation to all other things, while entering into myself, I behold a beauty of wondrous quality, and believe then that I am most to be identified with my better part, that I enjoy the best quality of life, and have become united with the divine and situated within it, actualizing myself at that level, and situating myself above all else in the intelligible world. Following on this repose within the divine, and descending from Intellect into acts of calculative reasoning, I ask myself in bewilderment, how on earth did I ever come down here, and how ever did my soul come to be enclosed in a body, being such as it has revealed itself to be, even while in a body?	Frequently—awakening into myself out of my body, and coming to be outside of other things but within myself, seeing an extraordinarily marvelous beauty, and coming to believe then I was of the better part, having actualized the noblest life, and having come to identify with the divine and having been settled within it, coming into that actuality, settling myself above every other intelligible object—after this stasis in the divine, having descended into rationality from Intellect, I am puzzled, however, even now, how I descend, and how for me the soul ever came to be inside of the body, being what it appears to be on its own even while it is in the body.

VI.9.4.1–30

The presence of the One is prior to that of science, and only direct vision, not teaching, provides contact with the One

Note: Mazur (2021) is abridged.

[A5] VI.9[9].4.1–30 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
The biggest puzzle arising is that comprehension of the One is neither by scientific understanding nor by intellection, as it is in the case of other intelligibles. It corresponds rather to a presence which is better than scientific understanding. But the soul undergoes a departure from its unity and the fact that it is not altogether a unity, whenever it attains scientific understanding. For scientific understanding involves an account, and an account is multiple. The soul, then, passes by the One when it falls into number and multiplicity. So, it should run above scientific understanding, and in no way exit from its unity, and should depart from scientific understanding, and the objects of scientific understanding, indeed all else, even from the vision of Beauty. For everything beautiful is posterior to the One, and comes from it, just as all daylight comes from the sun. For this reason, Plato says it is neither to be spoken nor written of. We do speak and write of it, by way of directing others towards it, waking them up from discursive accounts to actual looking, as though we were showing the way to those wanting to see something. For teaching extends only to the road and the route, while looking is the work of those already wanting to see. If someone does not attain the sight itself, then the soul does not come to have comprehension of the splendour in the intelligible world. It does not undergo, and then have, the sort of erotic state of a lover seeing the beloved and coming to rest in that, because he receives the true light, and has his whole soul illuminated through the great proximity to the One, even if he is held back on the ascent by a weight pulling him backwards, which is an impediment to the vision. He does not ascend alone, but takes with him something which separates him from the One, or is not entirely collected together into a unity. The One is certainly absent from nothing and from everything; it is present without being present, except to those who are able to receive it, and who are prepared for it, so as to be harmonious with it and in a way grasp it and touch it through their likeness to it, that is, the power in themselves akin to what comes from it. When one is in the state one was in when one came from the One, at that moment one can see, insofar as the One is such as to be seen. If, then, one is not yet in the intelligible world, but is still outside either on account of these things, or because of a lack of educational argument, which inculcates belief about the One, then one must take the responsibility on oneself, and one should try to depart from all things, and be alone.	If someone has not come to the contemplation, and the soul has not had an awareness of, or experienced, the glories there, nor had in itself (as it were) the erotic experience—from the vision—of a (male) lover resting in the (male) beloved, having received the true light and having illuminated around the entire soul through having become closer; but [instead] has ascended while still being burdened from behind, which was an impediment to the contemplation, and not having ascended alone, but having something that separates one from it, or not yet being brought together into one—for that one is certainly not absent from any, and yet is absent from everything, so that being present, it is not present except to those able to receive it and those who are prepared so as to adapt to it and as it were lay hold of it and to touch it by means of likeness; and by means of a dynamis in oneself that is connatural with that which comes from it, when one keeps oneself as one kept oneself when one came from him, one is immediately able to see, as it is natural for that one to be contemplated.

VI.9.7.1–26

The One is the object of investigation in that it may be present, not as a thing, and the presence is to be found in not knowing: the presence of the One is to be found within oneself.

[A6] VI.9[9].7.1–26 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
If you become unfocused in your view, since the One is none of these things, you should rely on them, and use them to form your vision. Do not form your vision by diverting your thought elsewhere. It does not lie somewhere bare of other things, it is always present to anyone with the power touch it, and it is not present to anyone without this power. Just as in other cases it is not possible to think something if your thinking is directed at something else, and your being related to another thing, but you should just not add anything to the thing being thought, so that it is just the thing thought, so, too, here one must know that it is not possible to think that thing, if one has the impression of another thing in the soul, and if that impression is actualized. Nor is it possible, if the soul is occupied and dominated by other things, for it to have the contrary impression. Rather, it is as one says in the case of matter, that it has to be unqualified by anything, if it is to take on the impressions of all things; so, in this case, the soul has to be formless to a greater degree, if it is not to be prevented from being filled and illuminated by the first nature. If this is so, then the soul should withdraw from everything external and revert entirely to its own inside, without any inclination to anything external. Rather, the soul should ignore everything, especially things in sense-perception, but also in forms, and then, in considering the One, come to ignore itself. And when the soul has come to be with the One, and, in a way, communed with it to a sufficient degree, then it should tell others of this intimate contact, if it can. It is, presumably, because he had such intercourse that Minos is famed as ‘Zeus’ familiar’. And he was mindful of this intercourse when he framed the laws as images of it, since he had been impregnated by a grasp of the divine so as to make the laws.	But if because it is none of these, you are indeterminate in thought, stand yourself in these these things and contemplate out from them; but contemplate without throwing your thought outward. For it does not lie ‘somewhere’ having left the other things bereft of it, but it is present ‘there’ to the one able to touch, but is not present to the one unable to. But just as with other things, it is not possible to think something while thinking something else and being oriented towards another, but one must attach nothing to the object of thought, in order that it be indeed the object of thought itself; so also, here too, one should know that it is not possible to think that [One] while having the impression of another in one’s soul, while the impression is active, nor, moreover, when the soul is taken over and possessed by other things can she be imprinted with the impression of the opposite, but just as is said of matter that it needs to be without the qualities of all things if it is going to receive the impressions of all things, so also (and how much more so!) must the soul become formless, if there is not going to be embedded within her an impediment to an impregnation and illumination from the first nature. If this is so, withdrawing from all external things, she [the soul] must turn completely to the within, and not be inclined to any of the external things, but ‘un—knowing’ all things (both as he had at first, in the sensible realm, then also, in that of the forms) and even ‘un—knowing’ himself, come to be in the contemplation of that, and having ‘come together’ and having had sufficient intercourse, so to speak, with that, come announce the communion there, if possible, also to another. Perhaps it is because of doing such a thing that Minos too was said to be the “familiar friend” of Zeus; remembering this [communion] he instituted laws as an image of it, having been filled with legislative status by the divine touch.

VI.9.9.46–10.21

By turning around the One, we receive being, in turning towards the One we receive well-being. For the soul has innate love of the Good which makes us desire death, even if true contemplation is possible in this life.

[A7] VI.9[9].9.46–10.21 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
Anyone who has seen it, knows what I mean. Which is to say: the soul then acquires a new life, when it approaches him, indeed arrives at him and participates in him, such that it is in a position to know that the true provider of life is present, and that the soul is in need of nothing more. On the contrary, the soul should then put away all other things, and stop in this one thing alone, become this alone, and cut loose everything we wear. The result is that we hasten to exit from here, so we may, despite the vexation at being bound to the other side, enfold him with the whole of ourselves, and contain no part with which we do not touch god. From the sensible world, it is indeed possible to see both god, and oneself, insofar as seeing is licit; oneself in glory, full of intellectual light, or rather, the pure light itself, weightless, buoyant, having become god, or better, being god, kindled at that time; however, should one become weighed down again, then, in a way, extinguished. ... For at the time [of union], the seeing self neither sees nor discerns, nor imagines two things, but has, in a way, become another, and not oneself, nor does one belong to oneself in the intelligible world. One has come to belong to the Good, and has become one, like a centre touching a centre point. In the sensible world, too, when the circles come together they are one, but when they separate they are two. This is what we mean now when we say ‘different’. For this reason, the vision is hard to make out. For how can someone report that he has seen something different, when he did not see something different in the intelligible world when he had his vision, but rather something united to himself?	“Whoever has seen, knows what I mean”: that then the soul has another life, both while approaching and having already “come forward” and participated in him, so that she is disposed to recognize that the provider of true life is present and she needs nothing further. But on the contrary, it is necessary to put the other things away and stand in this alone, and become that alone, having cut away the remaining things with which were are encompassed, so as to hasten to go out from here, and to be irritated at being bound to the other things, in order that we may embrace with the whole of ourselves, and have no part with which we do not touch god. Here, at this point, one can see both him and oneself as it is right to see: the self glorified, full of intelligible light—but rather itself pure light, weightless, floating, having become—but rather, being—a god; inflamed, then, but if one should be weighed down again, it is as if withering. [9 lines omitted] […] And so seeing himself, then, when he sees, he will see himself as such, or, rather, he will “be together with” himself in such a manner and will perceive [himself] as such, having become simple. But perhaps one should not say, “will see,” but “was seen,” if indeed it is even necessary to speak of two, the seer and the seen, but not both as one (the statement is audacious!). And so, then, the seer neither sees nor distinguishes nor imagines two, but as if having become another and not himself nor belonging to himself there, having come to belong to that [one], he is one, as if having attached center to center. For down here, too, having “come together” they [sc. “lovers”] are one, but two when separate. Thus, now, we also say “another.” Therefore the contemplation is indeed difficult to express: for how could someone report as another, not seeing as another there when he contemplated, but as one in relation to himself?

VI.9.11.4–25

One only remembers being like the One. The soul need not be afraid of proceeding to nothing. For virtue and contemplation take turns in guiding the soul.

[A8] VI.9[9].11.4–25 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
So, since they were not two, but the seer was one with what is seen, as though it was not being seen by him, but was unified with him, if he remembers who he became when he mingled with the One, then he will have in himself an image of it. He was a one, and contains no difference relative to himself, nor in any other respect. For nothing moved in him, neither spiritedness, nor appetite for anything else was present in him when he reverted to the One; but also not reason, nor intellection, nor he himself, if one should say that. He was instead ravished or ecstatic in solitary quiet, in an unwobbling fixedness, unwavering from his own substantiality in any way, not rotating about himself, entirely stable, as if he were the stability itself. Nor had he any desire for beautiful things, having already surpassed beauty, having already outdone the chorus of virtues. It is like someone who enters the inner sanctum and leaves behind the statues of the gods in the temple. And these are the first things one sees on leaving the inner sanctum after the vision within. The intimate contact within is not with a statue or an image, but with the One itself. The statue and the image are actually secondary visions, whereas the One itself is indeed not a vision, but another manner of seeing. It is self-transcendence, simplification, and surrender, an urging towards touch, a resting, concentration on alignment, if one is to have a vision of what is in the sanctum.	Since, then, there were not two, but the seer himself was one in relation to the seen (for it was not really seen, but unified), if he remembers who he became when he was mingled with that [one], he will have an image of that [one] with himself. But he himself, too, was one, with no distinction in himself either in relation to himself or in relation to others; for nothing moved with him, and he had no wish, no desire for another when he had ascended—but there was not even any reason or thought, nor even a self at all, if one must say even this; but he was as if snatched away or divinely possessed, in quiet solitude and stillness, having become motionless, not turning aside anywhere in his substance, nor turning about himself, having come to a complete standstill and indeed having become a kind of stasis. He was not among the beauties, having already ascended beyond even the chorus of virtues, just like someone enters into the interior of the adyton having left behind in the naos the cult— statues which, upon his emergence back out of the adyton, become the first things [encountered] after the object of contemplation inside, and the intercourse there not with cult—statues or icons, but with the thing itself; for these [statues] become secondary objects of contemplation. But the former was perhaps not an object of contemplation, but rather another way to see: an ‘ecstatic standing outside’ and a ‘simplifying expansion’ and a ‘surrendering growth of oneself’ and a ‘longing towards contact’ and a stasis and a ‘thinking around towards accomodation,’ if someone is going to contemplate what is in the adyton.

VI.9.11.36–46

One only remembers being like the One. The soul need not be afraid of proceeding to nothing. For virtue and contemplation take turns in guiding the soul.

[A9] VI.9[9].11.36–46 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
For the nature of the soul will indeed not arrive at what entirely is non-being, but when it descends, it will come to evil, and thus into non-being, but not into what is entirely non-being. Moving in the opposite direction, it will not come to something else, but to itself; thus in being in nothing else, it will not be in nothing, but will be in itself, that is, in itself alone, and not in that Being there. For a self does not become Substantiality, but ‘transcends Substantiality’ by this intimate contact. If, then, one sees oneself having become this, then one has himself as a likeness of that; and if one moves from oneself, as from the image to the archetype, then he reaches ‘journey’s end’.	For indeed the nature of the soul will not come to complete non-existence, but going (on the one hand) “down,” it will come into evil, and thus into non-being (i.e., not to utter non-existence). Conversely, running the opposite way, it will come not into another but into itself, and thus not being in another, it is in no one but itself; yet while in itself, and not in Being, it is in that, for one becomes also oneself and not in substance, but “beyond substance” by means of this intercourse. And so if one should see oneself having become this, one has oneself as a likeness of that, and if one goes on from oneself as an image to an archetype one reaches the “end of the journey.”

III.8.9.19–32

Intellect is not the first. The One, the Good, is beyond it. We can have access even to this.

Note: Mazur (2021) is abridged.

[A10] III.8[30].9.19–32 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
For, again, if knowledge of other things comes about by means of intellect and it is by intellect that we are able to know Intellect, with what sort of concentrated apprehension will that be seized which transcends the nature of Intellect? We shall say to the person to whom we must make clear how this is possible that it is by means of that in us which is the same as it. For there is something of it even within us. In fact, there is nowhere where it is not, for those able to partake of it. For wherever you place that which is able to possess what is omnipresent, it is from there that you possess it. Just as when a voice fills an empty space or human beings, too, as well as the space, in whatever part of the empty space you place your ear you will receive the voice as a whole and yet not all of it. What, then, is it that we receive when we apply our intellect? In fact, the intellect must, in a way, retreat to what is behind it and somehow let go of itself to what is behind it, since it looks both ways, and in the intelligible world, if it wants to see the One, it must be not entirely intellect. For Intellect is itself the primary Life since it is activity engaged in its progression through everything, not a progression which is progressing but one which has progressed. If, then, it is indeed both Life and is progression and possesses everything precisely and not in a general way – for it would then possess them imperfectly and in an inarticulate way – it must itself come from something else which is no longer in progression, but is the principle of progression, the principle of Life, the principle of Intellect and of all things. For all things are not a principle, but all things are from a principle. And this is no more all things, nor any of them, to enable it to generate all things and not be a multiplicity, but the principle of multiplicity. For that which generates is everywhere simpler than that which is generated. If, then, this generated Intellect, it must be simpler than Intellect. And if someone were to suppose that the One itself is everything, either it will be each one of everything one by one or all together. Now, if it is all gathered together, it will be subsequent to everything. But if it is prior to everything, everything will be other than it and it will be other than everything. And if it is itself and everything at the same time, it will not be a principle. It must, however, be a principle and be prior to everything so that everything can exist after it. And if it is each one of all things separately, first any one will be identical with any other and next, all will be together and nothing will be distinct. And for this reason, it is none of all things, but prior to all things.	For, again, since knowledge of other thing occurs through intellect, and we are able to know intellect by intellect, by what sudden grasping could we seize that which supersedes the nature of intellect?—in response to which one should note how it is possible: we will say, it is by means of the likeness within us. For there is something of it with us too; there is not somewhere it is not, for those able to participate in it. For standing anywhere, you have from there that which is able to have that which is present everywhere; just as if there was a voice diffused over a desert, or also in the midst of the desert, people too, and by standing to listen at any place in the desert, you will receive all the voice, and yet not all. What is it, then, which we shall receive when we set our intellect to it? Rather the intellect, being “double—mouthed,” must (so to speak) withdraw backwards, and, as it were, surrender itself to what lies behind it; and there, if it wishes to see that one (n.), it must not be altogether intellect. For it (m.) is itself the first life, being an activity in the going—through—and—out of all things; but going—through—and—out not in its being [now] going—through—and—out, but in that it has [previously] gone—through—and—out. So if, then, it is life, and going—through—and—out, and has all things distinctly and not imprecisely—for thus it would have them imperfectly and inarticulately—it is from something else which is not still in the going— through—and—out but is the origin of the going—through—and—out and the origin of life and the origin of intellect and of all things.

V.8.11.1–19

The sense in which the soul is unified with Intellect.

[A11] V.8[31].11.1–19 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
And if one of us who is unable to see himself when possessed by that god focuses his contemplation on the sight, he focuses on himself and sees an image of himself made beautiful. But he then dismisses the image even though it is beautiful, achieving self-unification and, no longer being divided, is at the same time one and is all things along with that god who is silently present, and he is with him to the extent that he is able and willing. Even if he should revert to duality, he continues, if he remains pure, to be with the god so that he can be present to him again as before if he should again turn to himself. But in the reversion he has this benefit: he begins to perceive himself, so long as he is different from that god. He rushes into his interior and has everything, and, putting the perception behind him for fear of being different from that god, he is unified with him in the intelligible world. And if he should desire to see him as different, he externalizes himself. He should, as part of his learning about that god, use a representation that was left in him while he was seeking to discern him; if he learns about him in this way, he will approach the sort of state he is entering upon with the confidence that he is entering upon the most blessed state. He forthwith delivers himself to his own interior and immediately becomes, instead of someone seeing, a sight for the gaze of someone else, bright with the thoughts that come from the intelligible world.	If one of us is unable to see himself, then, when he is possessed by that god, if he should bring forth the contemplation into an act of seeing, he presents himself to himself and looks at a beautified image of himself, but dismisses the image though it is beautiful, coming into one with himself, and, being no longer separate, is simultaneously one and all things with that god noiselessly present, and is with him as much as he is able and wishes to be; but if he should revert into duality, while remaining pure, he is immediately subjacent to him, so as to be present to him thusly again, if he should again turn towards him. In this reversion he has this advantage: from the beginning, he perceives himself, so long as he is different; but running into the within, he has everything, and leaving perception behind in fear of being different, he is one there. And if he should desire to see while being different, he makes himself external. But one must, on the one hand, learn about him, and, other the other hand, maintain some impression of him while seeking to discern into what sort of thing one is entering, thus, learning with certainty that it is into the most blessed thing, immediately one must surrender oneself to the within and become, instead of a seer, the object of contemplation of another contemplator, shining out with the kind of thoughts that come from there.

V.5.7.31–8.23

Analogy of intellection to sight.

[A12] V.5[32].7.31–8.23 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
It is actually in this way that Intellect, covering its eyes so that it does not see other things, and collecting itself into its interior, and not looking at anything, will see a light that is not other than it or in another, but itself by itself alone and pure, and it appears to it all of a sudden so that it is in doubt as to where it appeared from, outside or inside, and when it goes away it says, ‘so it was inside – but, again, not inside’. In fact, one must not try to discover where it comes from. For there is not any ‘where’; it neither comes from nor goes anywhere, it both appears and does not appear. For this reason, it is necessary not to pursue it, but to remain in stillness, until it should appear, preparing oneself to be a contemplator, just like the eye awaits the rising sun. The sun rising over the horizon – the poets say ‘from Ocean’ – gives itself to be seen with the eyes. But from where will that which the sun imitates arise? And rising over what horizon will it appear? In fact, it arises over the Intellect which contemplates it. For Intellect will be stable in its contemplation, since it is looking at nothing else beside that which is beautiful, inclining and giving itself over completely to what is in the intelligible world; stable and in a way filled with strength, it sees first itself becoming more beautiful, and shining, as it is near it. It did not, however, come as one expected; rather, it came as if it had not come. For it was seen not as something coming, but as something present prior to everything, before Intellect came to it. It is Intellect that comes and Intellect that goes away, because it does not know where it should wait and where the One is waiting, which is nowhere. And if it were possible for Intellect itself to wait nowhere – not in the sense that it is in place, for it is not in place, but in the sense that it is altogether nowhere – it would be always looking at the One. And yet it would not be looking, but would be one with it, and not two. Now, however, because it is Intellect, when it looks, it looks in this way, by that in itself which is not Intellect.	Thus also Intellect, veiling itself from other things and contracting into its interior, not looking at anything, will see a light, not another one in something else, but itself, alone by itself, pure, appearing suddenly by itself, so as to be puzzled whence it appeared, from without or within, and, once it has departed, to say, “it was within, and yet was not within.” But one need not seek whence, for there is no “whence.” For it does not come nor go anywhere, but appears or does not appear. Therefore, it is not necessary to pursue it, but to remain quiet until it should appear, preparing oneself to be a contemplator, just like the eye awaits the rising of the sun; and its appearance above the horizon (“from Ocean,” the poets say) offers itself to the eyes to be contemplated. But he whom the sun imitates, whence will he arise? And surmounting what will he appear? Indeed, he will surmount the contemplating Intellect itself. For Intellect will make itself stand towards the contemplation, looking at nothing else but the Beautiful, completely turning and surrendering himself there, but having stood, and, as if having been filled with strength, it sees first of all itself having become more beautiful and glistening, as he is close to him. But he did not come as someone expected, but came as not having come; for he was seen not as having come, but as being present before all things, before even Intellect came. There is the Intellect that comes, and there is also the Intellect that goes away, because it does not know where to stay and where that one stays, as it is in nothing. And if it were possible also for Intellect itself to remain nowhere—not because it is in place, for neither is he in place, but rather, absolutely nowhere—it would have been gazing at that one eternally; or rather, not gazing, but being one with that and not two. But now, because it is Intellect, it looks, when it looks, with that of itself which is not Intellect.

VI.7.31.5–35

The Good goes beyond the truth, beauty, and proportion of Intellect. When the soul is directed by the Good alone, this means that it is not directed by any Form whatever.

On account of the love of the Good in the soul, it moves beyond sensible things, and Intellect, and desires to make itself like the thing it loves.

[A13] VI.7[38].31.5–35 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
intellect was raised up to the intelligible world and remained joyful at being near the Good, and that soul which was capable of it, when it knew and saw, had joy in the spectacle, and was awestruck and shaken insofar as it was able to see. It saw, and was shaken awestruck, in a way by perceiving that it has in itself something of the Good, and came to be in a state of desire, like those who are moved by an image of their loved one and want to come to see the beloved itself. ... The soul, then, is carried up to the intelligible world, since it is keen to find what it loves; it does not cease until it has got hold of it, unless someone were to take away the love itself. The soul is actually strengthened by being filled with the Life of Being. It becomes in truth Being, and in truth acquires comprehension, when it perceives itself to be close to the thing it has long been seeking.	And so [Intellect] was raised up there, and he remained content to be around him; but the soul which was able, having reverted, when she knew and saw, also delighted in the contemplation, and, inasmuch as she was able to see, was smitten. She saw, stricken, as it were, and she was conscious of having something of it in herself, and thus disposed, she came into a state of longing, just like those who are moved by the image of a lovely person to want to see the beloved one itself…. [19 lines omitted] … Then she is carried off there, being marvelous at discovering whatever she loves, and not desisting until she seizes it (unless someone, somewhere, were to steal even this love of hers away). In that very moment, she sees all things are beautiful and true, and she takes on more strength, filled with the life of Being; and having really also become Being herself, and having true consciousness, she perceives she is close to what she has long been seeking.

VI.7.34.1–25

When the soul arrives at Beauty itself, it sheds all other properties, and has a contentment that cannot be surpassed.

[A14] VI.7[38].34.1–25 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
We will not marvel at the production of such mighty longings, if it is removed even from all intelligible shape, since the soul, when it comes to have an intense love for it, sheds any shape it may have, indeed any shape of an intelligible there may be in it. For it is not possible for something that is in possession of something else, or is active in respect of something else, either to see [Beauty] or to be harmonized with it. No, the soul should have nothing good or evil to hand, so that, alone, it may take in [Beauty] alone. When the soul is so fortunate as to meet with [Beauty], and it comes to the soul, or rather appears by being present, when the soul turns away from the things present, and prepares itself to be as beautiful as may be, and arrives at a likeness to [Beauty] – the mode of preparation and ordering are somehow clear to those who prepare themselves – the soul sees it appear suddenly, for there is nothing in between, nor are they two things; both are then one, for you cannot distinguish them, as long as it is present – in imitation of this lovers and their beloved ones here want to mingle with one another – and the soul no longer perceives even that it is in the body, nor does it say that it itself is something else, not a human being, not an animal, not a being, nothing at all. For consideration of itself in these capacities would disturb the soul. Nor does the soul have the leisure for them, nor does it want to. Rather, since the soul sought [Beauty], it encounters it when it is present, and looks at it, instead of looking at itself. It has no leisure to look to see who it is that looks. There, it would exchange nothing in place of [Beauty], not even if someone were to offer the whole universe, on the grounds that nothing is preferable or better. For it cannot ascend higher, and all other things, even those up there, are a descent for it.	And we will no longer be amazed if that which provokes the tremendous longing is entirely free from even intelligible shape; since the soul, too, when it acquires an intense love of it, sets aside all shape which she has, and even whatever shape of the intelligible might be in her. For there is neither seeing nor adaptation while holding anything else and being active around it. But it is necessary to have no evil nor even another good at hand, so that she alone may receive it alone. When the soul should attain it and it comes to her (but rather, [already] being present, it appears)—when that soul slips away from the things present and has prepared herself so that she is most beautiful and has come into likeness (the preparation and the adornment are evident, perhaps, to those who are preparing), seeing it appearing suddenly in herself (for there is nothing between nor are there still two, but both are one; nor could you still make a distinction while it is present; an imitation of this is also lovers and beloveds down here, wishing to be blended) nor does she still perceive the body, that she is in it, and she does not call herself anything else: not a human being, nor a living thing, nor a being, nor all (for somehow the contemplation of these would be irregular), and she has neither leisure nor wishes with regard to these things, but having sought it, she encounters that, it being present, and looks at that instead of herself, not even at leisure to see who it is that looks— then, at that very moment, she would not exchange this for anything, not even if someone bequeathed to her all the heavens, there being nothing still greater nor a greater good; nor could she run up higher, all other things being on the descent, even if they might be “above.”

VI.7.35

When soul arrives at the Good, all motion, and thought, ceases. Intellect can both think its own contents, and also be receptive for the Good. The Good unifies soul and intellect when it is present to them.

[A15] VI.7[38].35 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
The soul, then, is so disposed that it even disdains thinking – which it delights in at other times – because thinking is a motion, and the soul does not want to be motion. And the soul asserts that that which it sees does not think, despite the fact that soul has then become intellect and contemplates, because it has become intellectualized, that is, has come to be ‘in the intelligible world’. When the soul comes to be there, and relates to Intellect, it then thinks the intelligible, but when it sees that god, it dismisses everything, as, for example, when someone enters a brightly decorated house, and considers each of the beautiful decorations inside, and marvels at them, before seeing the master of the house. But when one sees him, and admires him in a way going beyond the nature of the statues in his house, as worthy of true contemplation, then, dismissing the other things, one just has eyes for him. Then, looking and not removing one’s eye from him, one only looks at him for the rest of the time, so that in the continuous time of looking one no longer sees a spectacle, but rather the sight of him becomes mixed with the spectacle with the result that something previously to be seen becomes a seeing; all other sights are forgotten. Indeed, the image would preserve the analogy, if the overseer of the viewer of the house were not a human being, but some god, and if he did not appear visibly but filled the soul of the contemplator. So, Intellect has one power to think insofar as it regards what is in itself, and another insofar as it regards what transcends itself, with a kind of apprehension and receptivity. It is in accordance with the second power that it first sees, and then later while still seeing both comes to be intellect and a unity. And the former is the contemplation of a wise intellect, whereas this latter is intellect loving, when it becomes senseless, ‘drunk with nectar’. It, then, turns into a loving intellect when it has been made contented by satiety. And it is better for it to be drunk with this intoxication than to be sober. Does then that intellect see different things in turn at different times? In fact, no, for it is merely our reasoned account, in teaching us, that makes things come to be, whereas it possesses thinking always, but it also possesses not-thinking, that is, regarding the Good in another way. For seeing that, it comes to have offspring; it is aware of them both as they are born and as they are in themselves. When it sees them it is said to think; but when it sees the Good, then it does so by the power due to which it will come to think. The soul in a way muddles up and obliterates the intellect that remains in it. Or, better, the intellect sees first the soul, and vision comes to the soul, and the two of them become one. The Good is spread over them, and, by being harmonized in the coherence of them both, running over and unifying both of them, is present to them, bestowing blessed perception or vision on them. It raises them so high that they are not in a place, nor in another thing, where one thing is in another. The Good itself is not anywhere. The intelligible world is in it, it is not in anything else. For this reason, the soul is not moved then, since neither is that. So, it is not soul, in that the Good is not alive; it is beyond living. Nor is the soul intellect, because it does not think; it must become assimilated to the Good. It does not even think that it is not thinking.	Then [the soul] is thus disposed, so as even to disdain intellection, which at another time she welcomed, because intellection is a motion, but she does not want to move. For she says that indeed neither does he whom she sees [move], yet having become intellect, she contemplates, having become intellect, as it were, having come into the intelligible place. Yet having come to be in it, possessing the intelligible, she thinks, but when she sees that one—that is, God—she immediately lets go of everything, just as if someone, coming into an ornate (and thus beautiful) house, were to contemplate each of the decorations within, and were to be amazed [even] before seeing the master of the house, but seeing and admiring that one (as he is not of the nature of cult—statues, but worthy of real contemplation), dismissing those [other] things, were thereafter to (a) look at that one alone; then, looking and not averting his eyes in the continuity of contemplation, he were to no longer to look at a sight, but would (b) commingle his vision with the object of contemplation, so that what was previously seen were to become vision in him; he would forget all other objects of contemplation. And perhaps the image would preserve the analogy if it were not a man who encountered the one contemplating the things of the house, but rather some god, and one who did not appear to sight but rather who filled the soul of the contemplator. Intellect, too, therefore, has one power for intellection, by which it looks at the things in itself, and another for what transcends it, by means of some touching and reception by which also, earlier, it saw only, and later, by seeing, also acquired intellect and is one. And that [former] contemplation is of the sober intellect, but the [latter is] itself the loving intellect, when it has become insane, “drunk from the nectar”; then in love, having been expanded into enjoyment in satiety; and it is better for it to be drunk with this kind of inebriation than more respectably sober. But does that intellect see in part, sometimes some things and sometimes others? No; the instructional discourse makes them “come to be,” but it always has intellection while it also has not intellection, but looking at that in another way. For seeing that (m.), he had [sc. “conceived”] offspring and was conscious both of their being born and their being within him; and when he sees them he is said to think, but [he sees] that (n.) by means of the power by which he was going to think. But the soul, as if confusing and annihilating the intellect remaining within her—or rather, her intellect sees first, and the contemplation comes also into her and the two become one. But the Good is extended over them and adapted to the constitution of both of them, running over them and uniting the two, it is upon them, giving them blessed perception and contemplation, having raised them so much as to not be in place, nor in another thing in which something is by nature in another. For he is not anywhere either, but the intelligible place is in him, but he is not in another. Therefore the soul does not move, then, since that does not either. Nor, therefore, is it soul, because that does not live, but is above life. Nor is it intellect, because it does not think either; for it is necessary to become similar. Nor does it think that, because it does not think.

VI.7.36.10–26

Cognizing the Good is ‘the most important subject of learning’. In its case, seeing and light are one.

[A16] VI.7[38].36.10–26 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
Whoever has become both a spectator and spectacle, himself of himself, and of the others there, and has become Substance, Intellect, ‘a complete Living Being’ no longer regards it from outside: once he has become all this he is close, and what follows next is the Good; it is close, shining on all that which is intelligible. Someone actually leaving all learning, up to then having been educated by instruction, settles in Beauty. Up to then he thinks, carried along in a way by the wave of the intellect, and in a way raised on high by it, puffed up in a way, he sees suddenly without seeing how. The spectacle fills his eyes with light, not making him see something else through it. The seeing was the light itself. For in the Good there is not one thing which is seen, and another thing that is its light; nor is there intellect and object of intellect, but the radiance, engendering these things later, lets them be beside itself. It itself is only the radiance engendering Intellect, without being extinguished in the act of generation, but remaining identical. Intellect comes about because the Good is. If the Good were not such, then Intellect would not have been made to exist.	Whoever has become simultaneously the contemplator and himself the object of his contemplation of himself and all other things, and having become substance and intellect and the “all-perfect living being,” should no longer behold it from without, but having become this, is nearby, and that one is next in order, and it is already close by, gleaming upon all the intelligible. At that moment one dismisses all learning, and thus far one has been led by instruction and settled in the beauty in which one is —up until this point one thinks—but then, being hoisted up out of it by (as it were) the wave of intellect itself, raised to the heights above it as if being engorged, he suddenly beholds, not seeing how, but the vision fills his eyes with light, not having made him see something else by means of it, but the light itself was the thing seen. For in that there was not the object of vision and its light, nor intellect and the object of intellect, but a ray having generated these things later and left them to be beside it; but he is the ray which has only generated Intellect, in no way having extinguished itself in the generating, but itself remains, that one having come to be by this one’s Being.

VI.8.15.14–23

The awareness of our own freedom allows us to approach the true life of the Good.

[A17] VI.8[39].15.14–23 (text H-S¹, modified)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
If we ourselves were to see a nature like this in ourselves, with nothing in it of the other things attached to us, due to which we undergo whatever happens and whatever is present by chance – for all else in us is enslaved and exposed to chance events, dependent on us in a way according to chance – to this alone belongs our mastery of self and autonomy, by means of the activity of a light Good-like and good, a light greater than that of Intellect, in that this activity is so disposed that its being above Intellect is not an acquired attribute. On actually ascending to this, and becoming this alone, casting aside all else, what could we say about it, except that we are more than free, and have more than autonomy?	If ever we too, ourselves, should see within ourselves some nature of a kind that has nothing of the other things which are attached to us, [i.e., those things] by which we have to experience whatever should occur by chance—for all the other things which are ours are enslaved and exposed to chances, and, as it were, come forth according to chance, but by this alone [we have] the self—mastery and autonomy of a light in the form of good, and of good in actuality and [of a good] greater than that according to Intellect, having that above Intellect [within], not imported [from without]; indeed, ascending into this and becoming this alone, but dismissing the other things, what could we call it except more than free and more than autonomous?

VI.8.19.1–6

Contemplation of the Good itself is better than mere images of it; it is ‘beyond Substantiality’.

[A18] VI.8[39].19.1–6 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
Let one, then, understand the Good itself from what has been said, by being moved to ascend to it! Then one will even see for oneself, although one is unable to say what one wants. If someone sees the Good in itself, although he has put aside any account of it, he will posit it as being derived from itself, such that, if indeed it had substantiality, that substantiality would be subservient to it, and in a way derived from the Good.	And so, having been impelled upwards towards that from what has been said, one should take hold of that itself, and one will also see himself, not being able to say as much as he would like. But seeing that in himself, taking away all rationality, he will set that by itself, being such that if it had substance, the substance would be his slave and, as it were, issuing from him.

V.3.17.15–38

The relative self-sufficiency of Intellect. The ascent of the embodied individual to the One or Good.

[A19] V.3[49].17.15–38 (text H-S¹)
Gerson (2018)	Mazur (2021)
Is it enough, then, having said these things, to leave off? In fact, the soul is still in labour and even more so than before. Perhaps, then, she must now give birth, having both longed for the One and been consumed with labour. But we must sing another charm if we are to find one to relieve her labour. Perhaps it would come from what has already been said, and if someone were to sing it over and over, it would happen. What other fresh charm, then, is there? For she has run through all the truths, truths in which we participate, yet still flees them if someone wants to speak and think through them, since discursive thinking must, if it is to say something, go from one thing to the other. It is, in this way, successive. But what sort of succession is there for that which is completely simple? But it is sufficient if one grasps it intellectually. And having grasped it, so long as one does, it is quite impossible to speak nor is there time to speak; later, one can reason about it. But at that moment, one cannot but be confident that one has seen, whenever the soul suddenly makes contact with light, for this comes from the One and is it. And at that moment, one cannot but believe that the One is present, just as when another god, called to someone’s house, comes bringing light. If the god had not come, he would not have brought the light. Thus, the unilluminated soul, bereft of god, is without light. When she is illuminated, she has what she sought, and this is the soul’s true goal: to make contact with that light and to see it by itself, not by the light of something else; to see that very thing through which it sees. For the means of its illumination is what the soul ought to see; we do not see the sun by the light of something else. How, then, can this come about? Abstract from everything.	And so is it sufficient to leave off having said these things? No, the soul still has even greater birth—pangs. Perhaps at this point, she must give birth, having eagerly glanced towards it and having been filled with birth—pangs. But still we must chant another spell, if somewhere we can find some spell against birth pangs; perhaps it might emerge from what has already been said if someone were to incant it repeatedly. And so what other spell is as if new? For she has run over all truths, and, simultaneously, flees from the truths in which we participate, if someone wishes to speak and reason [about them], since reason must, if it wishes to express something, take one thing after another (for such is also an exposition); but what “exposition” is there in the entirely simple? But it suffices if one makes contact intelligibly; but having made contact (when one does make contact), one is completely unable (nor has leisure) to speak, but one reasons about it [only] afterward. Then, one must believe one has seen, when the soul suddenly takes light; for this—this light—is from him, and he is it. And then one must consider him to be present, when, just like another god called by someone into a house, he comes and illuminates; indeed, if he did not come he would not have illuminated. So then too the unenlightened soul is without that god, but once enlightened, it has what it sought, and this is the true goal for the soul, to touch that light and to see it by itself, not through the light of another, but [to see the light] itself, through which it sees. For that by which it has been enlightened is that which must be seen; for neither does one see the sun through another light. And so how should this occur? Take away everything.

References

Mazur, Zeke (2021). The Platonizing Sethian background of Plotinus's mysticism. Leiden: Brill. ISBN 978-90-04-44171-2.
Gerson, Lloyd P. (trans.) (2018). The Enneads. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ISBN 978-1-107-00177-0.

Greek sources

Both Mazur (2021) and Gerson (2018) are based on the Henry-Schwyzer Greek texts (i.e., edited by Paul Henry and Hans-Rudolph Schwyzer).

Mazur (2021) is based on the editio maior (HS¹).
- Addenda to HS¹ are labelled HS³.
Gerson (2018) primarily uses the editio minor (HS²), but also makes some textual changes.
- Textual addenda to HS² are labelled HS⁴.

The Henry-Schwyzer Greek texts are:

Henry, Paul, and Hans-Rudolf Schwyzer. Plotini Opera. (Editio maior in 3 vols.). Bruxelles and Paris: Museum Lessianum, 1951-1973.
Henry, Paul, and Hans-Rudolf Schwyzer. Plotini Opera. (Editio minor in 3 vols.). Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964-1982.

Order	Ennead
1	1.6
6	4.8
9	6.9
30	3.8
31	5.8
32	5.5
38	6.7
39	6.8
49	5.3