+ H. D. GARDEIL, O.-—P—- Introduction to the Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas III. PSYCHOLOGY Translated by John A. Otto, B. HERDER BOOK CO. 13 & 17 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. and 2/3 Doughty Mews, London, W. C.i ph. d. This book originally appeared under the title Initiation à la philosophie de S. Thomas d’Aquin: Vol. Ill, Psychologie, and was published in 1953 by Les Editions du Cerf, of Paris, France. IMPRIMATUR Joseph E. Ritter, S.T.D. Archbishop of St. Louis February 1, 1956 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 56-9194 COPYRIGHT © 1956 BY B. HERDER BOOK CO. Third Printing, 1963 Printed in the United States of America by Vail-Ballou Press, Inc., Binghamton, New York + Foreword i" IN Aristotle’s view the study of the soul is an in­ tegral part of the investigation of nature, in a way a preliminary to biology. We need not wonder, then, that Aristotle devotes comparatively small consideration to the operations of our high­ est, that is, our spiritual faculties, intellect and will. St. Thomas, whose almost every philosophical inquiry is undertaken in fur­ therance of a theological matter, gives much more attention to this part of his psychology. We shall follow his example. Believ­ ing, moreover, that the detailed analysis of the operations of the will is more suitably left to moral philosophy, we shall de­ vote the greater part of our consideration of the spiritual soul to matters pertaining to the intellect. Indeed, it may well seem that we have given more space to problems of the intellect than one should expect in an introductory study. We felt it necessary, however, to go into some detail on several points, not only be­ cause they are too important to be dismissed with generalities, but also because for the most part they are too summarily treated in other manuals of comparable scope and purpose. Aristotelian psychology—perhaps “anthropology” or the sciV vi Foreword ence of the human organism would be more exact—centers around the well-known affirmation that the soul is the form of the body. Its main preoccupation lies in determining the rela­ tionship between the two basic realities of which man is con­ stituted. We have endeavored, on our part, to give this question the emphasis it deserves; above all, we have tried to make it very clear that in one way or another all of man’s activity de­ pends on this body-soul relationship. Still, it must be admitted that to define the soul as the form of the body does not tell the whole story of man’s nature, since the soul of man is not merely a form, but a form that can exist by itself. A pneumatology, if that is the word, or a science of spiritual being would therefore seem to be a necessary comple­ ment to the hylomorphic consideration of the soul, seeing that the study of the soul as form retains a strong biological impress to the end. In this additional undertaking Aristotle was both halting and obscure. St. Thomas was in a more favorable posi­ tion, having before him the example of St. Augustine, himself the beneficiary of all those new discoveries of the soul made, or made possible, by revealed truth. St. Thomas, therefore, pre­ sents a forthright doctrine of mens or spirit as such, together with its unique powers and activities, like the power to reflect on and know itself, indirectly in its present condition, but di­ rectly anti without intervening medium in the future state of separation from the body. This is the reason why we have stressed such matters as the knowledge by which the soul knows itself through itself, and the knowledge it has in the state of separation. Such questions together with their answers open up new vistas, reaching far beyond the horizons of Peripateticism. But the psychology of St. Thomas goes even further, looking to the world beyond for the light that will discover the inner­ most structure of the human soul, for it is the light of revela­ tion that discloses the mark of divine resemblance in the soul’s being. Though more reserved than St. Bonaventure, who con- Foreword vii strues many aspects of man as the image of God, St. Thomas nevertheless believes that the ultimate explanation of our be­ ing lies in its being kindred with God. Homo ad imaginem Dei factus: man is made to the image of God. These, it should be remembered, are the words with which St. Thomas introduces his prologue to the Prima Secundae, in which he treats of the rational creature’s return to his Principle and Beginning. + Acknowledgments "i" THIS volume is a translation of H. D. Gardeil’s, O.P., Initiation à la Philosophie de S. Thomas d’Aquin: III, Psycholo­ gie (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1953). Other volumes in the series are: I, Logique; II, Cosmologie; and IV, Métaphysique. The English version of quotations and selections from St. Thomas are reprinted, by kind permission of their respective pub­ lishers, from the following translated writings of St. Thomas: Summa Theologica, trans, by Fathers of the English Dominican Province (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1947. Reprinted with the permission of Benziger Brothers, Inc., publishers and copy­ right owners); Contra Gentiles, trans, by the English Dominican Fathers (London: Burns Oates & Washbourne, Ltd., 1929); The Soul, trans, by John P. Rowan (St. Louis: B. Herder Co., 1949); On the Power of God, trans, by the English Dominican Fathers (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1952); and Truth, trans, by Robert W. Mulligan, S.J., James V. McGlynn, S.J., and Robert W. Schmidt, S.J. (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1952 If.). To all the aforesaid publishers, and to the translators of their aforementioned publications, the present translator hereby acknowledges his great debt and deep appreciation. ix x Acknowledgments Lastly, the translator expresses his thanks to Casa Editrice Marietti (Turin, Via Legnano 23) for permission to use excerpts from the Marietti Latin edition of St. Thomas’ Quaestiones Dis­ putatae. J. A. O. St. Ambrose College Davenport, Iowa + Contents PAGE Foreword............................................................................... v Acknowledgments............................................................ ix CHAPTER 1. Introduction......................................................................................................... i 2. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties............................. 17 3. Vegetative Life................................................................. 43 4. Sensitive Life................................................................. 50 Part One: Sense Knowledge............................. 50 Part Two: The Sensitive Appetite and the Locomotive Potency......................................... 78 5. Intellect and Knowledge: General Notions . 6. The. Object of Human Intellect and the Forma­ tion of Intellectual Knowledge........................... 104 7. The Activity of the Intellect and the Growth of Intellectual Knowledge................................. 139 xi . 87 Contents xii 8. Knowledge of the Singular and of the . 165 Soul . 9. The Will........................................................................... 197 10. The Human Soul........................................................ 221 Conclusion to theWhole......................................... 234 Texts.................................................................................237 I. The Degrees of Immanence in Vital Ac­ tivity (Contra Gentiles, IV, 11)........................... 238 II. The Human Soul Is Both a Form and a Substantial Individual (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 1) . III. . . . 241 Internal Senses and External Senses (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 13, ca. me­ dium) ............................................................... 245 IV. Divisions of Appetite (De Veritate, q. 25, a. 1, ca. medium) . V. The Basis of . 248 Intellection (De Veritate, q. 2, a. 2).................... 250 VI. The Human Intellect Is Faculty an Abstractive (la, q. 85, a. 1)............................................. 253 VII. The Agent Intellect....................................... 260 A. The Existence of the Agent Intel­ lect (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 4) B. . 260 The Agent Intellect Is Neither Separate Nor One and the Same for All (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 5) . 262 xiii Contents VIII. The Role of the Species in Intellection (la, q. 85, a. 2)........................... 266 IX. The Mental Word (De Potentia, q. 8, a. 1, ca. medium) . . 271 X. The Knowledge of Singulars (De Veritate, q. 10, a. 5).................... 272 XL The Knowledge of the Soul Through It­ self (De Veritate, q. 10, a. 8)........................... 274 XII. The Separated Soul’s Knowledge (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 15 corp.) . XIII. Superiority of Intellect over Will (De Veritate, q. 22, a. 11 corp.) XIV. . 277 . . . 284 Man Has Free Will (De Veritate, q. 24, a. 1 corp.) .... 286 XV. The Human Soul Is Immortal (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 14 corp.) . . 289 XVI. The Image of God............................................. 292 A. The Image of God According to His Nature (la, q. 93, a. 4 corp.) B. .... 292 The Image of God According to the Trinity of Persons (De Veritate, q. 10, a. 3 corp.) . 293 Index..................................................................................295 Introduction to the Philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas III. PSYCHOLOGY + CHAPTER 1 Introduction I. GENERAL NOTION OF PSYCHOLOGY + ETYMOLOGICALLY, psychology means “the sci­ ence of the soul.” This science is as old as philosophy itself. Every great system of philosophy, from the beginning to the present, has dealt explicitly with this subject, containing a more or less clearly defined presentation of matters relating to it. But if the science is old, the word is comparatively new, tracing back not further than the sixteenth century, when a Marburg professor, Goclenius, used it to title one of his works. The credit, however, for bringing the word into general use would seem to go to an­ other German, Christian Wolff (1679-1754). With his Psycho­ logic Empirica (experimental psychology), published in 1732, and his Psychologic Rationalis (rational psychology), published in 1734, he popularized not only the word “psychology” but also a distinction that was to have a long career. Kant, for example, made use of the same terminology. During the course of the nineteenth century the word and the distinction became popular in France as well, gaining general ac- 2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology ceptance through a development in which the influence of Maine de Biran (1766-1824) and the French Rationalists and Eclectics was decisive. Thus, on the whole and by a strange paradox, the word “psychology” comes into its own at the very moment when, in large measure, those who profess to deal with the subject deny the very possibility of any knowledge of the soul itself. In these circumstances we may ask what meaning this term conveys in the vocabulary of one who intends to direct his philosophical inquiry along the paths followed by St. Thomas. Before answering this question, however, we ought to review the principal historical movements regarding the doctrine of the soul, for the answer is best seen against its historical background. i. Historical Survey Throughout antiquity and the Middle Ages there were two main schools of thought regarding the soul. One was the more spiritualist view, taught by Plato and St. Augustine; the other a more empirical view, represented by Aristotle and his followers. In the thirteenth century, as is well known, it was the latter doc­ trine that came to prevail, as did the rest of the philosophy of the Stagirite. Ever since, Christian philosophy in the main has been Aristotelian. With the birth of modern thought the psychology of the Schoolmen, together with everything that came from Aristotle, fell into discstcem. But the science of the soul could not lie en­ tombed forever; men felt the need to resurrect it. One of the first to make the attempt was Descartes (1596-1650), who revived the excessively spiritualist view of the Augustinian school, which leaned toward excluding the body in the study of the soul. But 1 Jescartes was also something of an innovator in the field by mak­ ing reflect ion upon self the basic principle or starting point of all knowledge. From then on, the term “psychological” tended more and more to mean “accessible to consciousness.” Nevertheless, the substance of Cartesian psychology remained essentially meta­ Introduction 3 physical in character; its principal object of inquiry was still the soul itself, that is, the essential nature of its being. In the eighteenth century, owing to the influence of John Ixrcke (1632-1704), a new step was taken, one that aimed at complete elimination of traditional metaphysical considerations from the science of the soul. Psychological facts were now re­ duced to purely observable phenomena, behind which the soul and its powers lay, it was thought, inaccessible. Psychology sought to become a purely empirical science, comparable to other sci­ ences of nature; its domain was confined to consciousness, that is, to what was obtainable by direct conscious experience. Following the method of appeal to consciousness and empirical inquiry, psychological research made great strides. Even though metaphysical speculations regarding the spiritual were not wholly neglected—witness, for example, bachelier (1832-1918) or Berg­ son (1859-1941) in France—the main concern of psychologists was to establish an independent and scientific psychology from which the higher problems of the soul and its destiny were to be excluded. The remarkable progress that had been made by the experimental sciences seemed to justify even the fondest hopes of like success in psychology. Since it was possible to systematize and interpret the findings of physical science according to strictly scientific methods, why should it not be possible to do likewise with findings of the mind? Away with, or let others wrangle about questions of the soul and its faculties, and, for that matter, about the essence of material things. Keep to the observation of precise facts and to the formulation of carefully controlled laws. In this way, it was thought, you would achieve a psychology that was truly scientific and objective, one that could rally the allegiance of all concerned. Roused by this promise, psychologists everywhere applied themselves intensively to the task of observation and ex­ perimentation, a task to which, it must be acknowledged, we are indebted for the imposing results that are the boast of the mod­ em science of the soul. For all practical purposes, moreover, this 4 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology science has superseded the theoretical psychology of former times. Still, it may be asked whether the hope of developing such a science is altogether justified; whether in the last analysis it is possible to establish a completely autonomous science of psy­ chology. More precisely, is there any warrant for believing there can be a separate psychology conceived after the manner of the experimental sciences, which would be distinct but companion to the older metaphysical study of the soul, whose truth is peren­ nial? This is the question that must now be answered. 2. Rational Psychology and Experimental Psychology Before the eighteenth century there was but one branch of systematic psychology, forming a part of an over-all philosophical program and treated according to the methods of philosophy. What arc the characteristics of this psychology? In the fust place, the older psychology is definitely philosophi­ cal in character, in the sense that it seeks to determine the very first principles <>t life and its manifestations; in the sense also that it docs not hesitate to make use of the more basic notions of Aristotelian philosophy, such as substance and accident, matter and form, act and potency. Secondly, this psychology deserves to be called scientific in the strict sense of the word, endeavoring as it docs to explain things by their proper causes. Indeed, this is its main task, and therefore the work of observation and clas­ sification is only the preliminary step. Furthermore, despite its admittedly rational or theoretical bent, in its own way the older psychology is also empirical, not to say experimental. Aristotle, in particular, always begins with some well-defined datum of ex­ perience. As a matter of fact, the sort of sober empiricism in which the business of interpretation is but a continuation and judicious ordering of experience, strikes us as being the distinctive feature of Aristotelianism. According to this philosophy, then, there is but one science of the soul, which is both empirical and Introduction $ rational. Are we to conclude, therefore, that the principles of I his philosophy do not permit us to organize the science of psy­ chology into two separate divisions, commonly called rational and empirical, or to treat one independently of the other? The answer to this question would seem to be no. At the present lime, at any rate, such a division is more or less taken for granted. Nevertheless, one or two observations are in order. For one thing, it should be clearly understood that the distinc­ tion of experimental and rational is only relative, thus indicating no more than the line of emphasis followed by one method as compared with the other. Consequently, the terminology of “rational” and “experimental” is, to say the least, unsatisfactory, for it opens the door wide to confusion. The fact is that no sci­ ence of any kind is possible without both reason and experience. A much better course would be to distinguish these two disci­ plines in terms of the level of interpretation in which each is engaged. On the one hand we should have a philosophical or metaphysical psychology, which seeks to determine the highest principles of the science; on the other hand, a scientific psychol­ ogy, scientific in the modern sense, which occupies itself with a more immediate level of interpretation. Furthermore, a so-called experimental psychology could in no way claim the role of ulti­ mate arbiter in regard to the basic problems of the soul; it could not, in other words, pose as an authentic philosophical wisdom. Such a role rightfully belongs to a higher discipline. II. THE OBJECT AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY i. The Object of Psychology The object, perhaps the twofold object (or precise scope of inquiry), that one will assign to psychology depends, of course, on the general tendency of one’s philosophy. If, for example, we lean to the spiritualist view of St. Augustine or Descartes, we shall naturally incline to the position that the object of this sci- 6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology ence is the activity of the soul considered in itself, apart from any reference to the body. If, on the other hand, we are com­ mitted to the preconceptions of materialism, we shall be disposed to reduce the domain of psychology to the physiological, or even to the physical level. But if we adopt a middle ground, such as the moderate spiritualism of Aristotle, the object of psychology will include something of each of these divergent determinations. Our approach, it need hardly be said, is that of Aristotle. But even here two choices are possible. a) Mental life and life in general.—In the view of Aristotle all manifestations of life can be called psychological facts; psychol­ ogy would then be defined by life itself, and all living beings, in­ cluding those below man, namely, animals and plants, would belong to the science of the soul. Following this view, one can say that the object of psychology is: the living being in so far as it is the principle of vital activ­ ities. The justification for this position lies in the basic Aristotelian classification of all activity into two main types: transitive and immanent. Transitive activity produces a change upon some­ thin;', other Ilian the subject; whereas immanent activity origi­ nates in and works for the perfection of the subject. On the basis of this division, beings are nonliving if they have only transitive activities, and living if they are endowed with immanent activ­ ities, or can move themselves. Accordingly, a more precise deter­ mination of the object of psychology would be to define it as: those beings endowed with immanent activity or the power to move themselves, considered as such. With this, the scope of psychology is clearly marked off; only it leaves the difficulty, in some cases, of deciding whether a given operation is a vital activity or not. b ) Psychology and consciousness.—According to some schools Introduction 7 of modern psychologists, the domain of psychology is defined in somewhat different terms, namely, in terms of consciousness. As they see it, the proper scope of psychology is the realm of con­ sciousness, or whatever is accessible to consciousness. It will be readily seen that in this conception one whole area of vital activ­ ity, the whole infraconscious realm, is eliminated from the scope of this science. Excluded, therefore, is the life of plants as well as certain aspects of animal and human life. In short, the object of psychology would be considerably restricted. For our part we have no intention to deny that the fact of being conscious and self-reflective is one of the most striking charac­ teristics on certain levels of vital activity. Nevertheless, with St. Thomas we believe that psychology should be defined with re­ spect to vital activity as a whole, because the distinction of living and nonliving is more basic than that of conscious and nonconscious. Doing so, moreover, we are following in the footsteps of authentic Aristotelianism. 2. The Methods of Psychology Since considerations of method are of little value previous to and apart from practical application, we shall limit ourselves to briefly clarifying two points. a) Introspection and the objective method.—Like every sci­ ence, psychology must be founded on the knowledge of facts. On this point the philosophy of Aristotle is in perfect agreement with the demands of modern science. But the facts of psychology, at least those occurring on a higher level, are unusual in that they can be obtained by two different methods: objectively, in so far as they are of a piece with the world perceived by the senses; and subjectively, in so far as they are conscious experiences. To this twofold approach to psychological facts correspond two methods, called objective and subjective. The subjective method, also referred to as introspection, is pe­ culiar to psychology. The ancients themselves used it, though 8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology not so systematically as the moderns. Among the latter two con­ trary views regarding introspection have prevailed. Some deem it the only means of creating a genuine science of psychology; whereas others, more mindful of its rather elusive and subjective character, feel that it has little scientific value. There is something to be said for each of these opinions, and the truth would seem to lie in between. Certainly, introspection must be acknowledged as a normal and reliable source of informa­ tion for psychology, indeed as the chief means of investigating the whole field of higher activities. But because of the evanescent nature of conscious states, and the impossibility of submitting them to direct and exact measurement, the method of intro­ spection carries with it a degree of uncertainty. In any event, it has always to be controlled and completed by objective informa­ tion. The objective methods include all those procedures by means of which life and its activities can be studied from the outside, as it were. Since mind is linked to matter and the mental to the physical, the life of the soul is reflected in actions and reactions of the body. Hence, there is no reason why the soul should not be studied through the medium of bodily activities. As for Aris­ totle himself, wc may note that he would be the last to scorn this procedure. We shall, in fact, see that his initial approach to living things is precisely from the viewpoint that they are bodies, forming pari of the physical universe, even as the material ele­ ments; his inner analysis of their specifically vital functions comes later. In this respect at least, Aristotelian psychology is abreast of the most up-to-date conceptions of that science. Doubtless, modern techniques leave the former far behind, but this is only a difference of degree. Methods are more refined, not basically different. The truth of the matter is that psychology can employ both methods, both introspection and objective gathering of data, using—there is no reason why not—the most modern techniques Introduction g of experimentation. Nor is there any reason why, under proper conditions, it should not have recourse to the comparative or differential methods that have been made available, for example, by animal psychology, pathological psychology, and genetic psychology. The point we wish to make is simply that every source or method of information is legitimate, provided that it does not pretend to be the only one, and does not impose un­ founded or unverifiable preconceptions. b) Philosophical method and theological method.—In the philosophy of St. Thomas we face an additional question of method. Aristotle, as was but natural, developed his ideas within a purely philosophical framework. In his commentaries St. Thomas adopts the same point of view, but in his theological works the Angelic Doctor takes another line. To see the differ­ ence we have only to compare the procedure followed by Aris­ totle in the De Anima with the order followed, for example, in the great psychological treatise embodied in the Prima Pars, questions 75 to 89. Tire former work begins with the physical world, in which some bodies are found to have the remarkable property of being able to move themselves. These are living bodies, whose activities are then studied, beginning with the lowest to the highest, until we come to an activity that is ab­ solutely independent of matter. With this activity, which is thought, we stand at the threshold of another world, the world of spirit. Such is the purely philosophical procedure, which normally goes from the less abstract to the more abstract, or from the sensible to the intelligible. In the Summa Theologiae, however, man is immediately introduced, not as a body among other bodies, but as a created being, composed of body and soul, which latter is directly produced by God and forms the principal object of inquiry. Here the order of the questions and the importance attached to each are, clearly, quite different. Consequently, Thomistic psychology admits of two different yet authentic presentations. One may follow the plan and view- io Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology point of the De Anima, or take the position adopted in the psy­ chological portions of the theological works. The latter course has the advantage of giving a more orderly account of St. Thomas’ own views. But the De Anima also has its advantages. Among other things, it takes us to the very source of St. Thomas’ doctrine. What is more—and this is of capital importance—it stays within the bounds of purely philosophical speculation, which, as Thomism rightfully teaches, must come to the spiritual by way of the material. Therefore, without neglecting the rich psychological contribu­ tions of the Summa, we shall follow the step-by-step upward treatment observed in Aristotle’s De Anima, going from the general to the particular, from the lowest degree of life to the highest. Thus, we shall begin with the study of the soul, first considering it in general as the principle of life, and then its faculties. Next wc take up in order the three basic degrees of life that have always been attributed to man, namely, vegetative, sensitive, and intellectual life. Lastly, in the concluding por­ tion, wc come back to the particular problem of the human soul, a problem that naturally presents itself at the point where the soul’s higher activities are discussed. Accordingly, the pres­ ent work may be divided into the following main headings: 1. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 2. Vegetative Life 3. Sensitive Life 4. Intellectual Life 5. The Human Soul and Its Problems III. SOURCES AND BIBLIOGRAPHY What are the sources to be used in constructing a Thomistic psychology? First and foremost, obviously, are the works of Aristotle himself, for these supply not only the foundation but most of the superstructure as well. Introduction ii i. The Biopsychological Accomplishment of Aristotle a) The biopsychological writings of Aristotle.—This portion of the Aristotelian corpus includes a whole series of important works. As listed below, they are divided into three principal parts, a division that is generally accepted: i. The De Anima (in 3 books) ii. The Parva Naturalia, a collection of the following smaller writings: De Sensu et Sensato De Memoria et Reminiscentia De Somno et Vigilia and De Somniis De Divinatione per Somnum De Longitudine et Brevitate Vitae De Vita et Morte De Respiratione iii. A group of books dealing specifically with natural science in the ancient sense of animal study: Historia Animalium De Partibus Animalium De Motu Animalium De Incessu Animalium De Generatione Animalium Besides the aforesaid, a work called De Plantis has been at­ tributed to Aristotle, but it is hardly genuine. By contrast, all the other works mentioned appear to be authentic. b) The place of psychology in the philosophy of Aristotle.— There is no doubt that Aristotle regarded the study of living beings and their principle, the soul, as a part of the philosophy of nature. But it is also true that at the end of his inquiry into the soul he has found an activity that is independent of the body. This activity, which is thought, opens new avenues of speculation and even prompts him to raise anew, but with­ out deciding it, the very question as to whether this science 12 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology belongs to natural philosophy. Be that as it may, his biopsychological writings, such as we have them, savor strongly of what has come to be known as natural and biological science. As for the place where psychology belongs within the philoso­ phy of nature as a whole, we can say that the plan followed by Aristotle in natural philosophy is to go from the more universal to the more particular. Thus, he begins by considering motion and mobile being in general. Then he studies each kind in par­ ticular, with special emphasis on that movement we call life, and that mobile being which is the principle or source of vital movement, the living being. As set forth by the Stagirite, then, the subject of psychology is a particular kind of body among other bodies, and the science corresponding to this subject is but a particular sed ion of the general study of nature. c) The formation and development of the psychology of Aristotle. A point of discussion among students of Aristotle is whether his psychological, or more correctly perhaps, his biopsychological woiks were all written at a time when his thought had, so Io speak, crystallized; or whether they are so many dis­ tinct contiibut ions, representing different stages of development? Speaking for Aristotle’s philosophy as a whole, the German scholar, AV. Jacgei, believes it reveals a pattern of development, ranging, from a sharply defined metaphysical and Platonic char­ acter in the beginning, to a more empirical form in the end, when Aristotle had disembarrassed himself of the theory of ideas? Granting such a gradual unfolding of Aristotle’s thought in general, would it be true of his psychology in particular? This question is the subject of a more recent work by F. Nuyens, who traces what he considers to be such a progressive development. * In his earlier writings, according to Nuyens, Aristotle ad1 Cf. Werner Jaeger, Aristotle: Fundamentals of the History of His Developmcnt, trans, by Richard Robinson (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1934). * Cf. F. Nuyens, évolution de la psychologie d’Aristote (Louvain: 1948). For an évaluai ion of I his work, see Laval Théologique et Philosophique, IV, 2 (1948), pp. 338-345.—Tr. Introduction 13 hered to the Platonic view of the soul, considering it in sharp contrast, not to say opposition, to the body. The next period was one of transition, producing writings of lesser importance in which soul and body are brought closer together. The third and final period is represented by his great works, in which at last Aristotle had found his own cardinal doctrine, declaring the soul the form of the body. This doctrine, moreover, was to give course and direction to his whole psychology. If this diagnosis is correct, the central point around which Aristotle’s own psy­ chology gradually assumed definite and original form, was the matter of the soul’s relation to the body. This problem, more­ over, was still not completely disposed of in the final stage of development, for at the end of his inquiry Aristotle faces a di­ lemma. On the one hand the soul as psyche and substantial form, was joined to the body; but at the same time, as nous or principle of spiritual operations, it also transcended the body. On the whole, however, Aristotle’s thought would appear to have undergone progressive development in the direction of everincreasing embodiment of the soul. On the basis of the foregoing remarks we shall assume, for our present purpose, that the principal psychological writings of the Stagirite, the De Anima in particular, stem from the period when, by general consensus, the growth of his thought had already reached its final and lasting stage. Consequently, we may regard them as a uniform source of information. d) The order of the biopsychological treatises of Aristotle.— A further question is whether in writing his various psychological works Aristotle followed a certain order or over-all plan. If so, what was it? Following St. Albert, St. Thomas puts the general study of the soul, the De Anima, at the beginning. This work, he believes, is to furnish the directive principles for the study of the other treatises, since in all living things the principle of activity is a 14 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology soul. Following the De Anima would be the other works, dealing with different kinds of living beings and their parts and func­ tions. Even though this sequence is not without logical ground, some of the other great commentators, such as Alexander of Aphro­ disias and Averroes, take a different view.3 According to them the writings treating of the physical parts of animals should come first; next, the De Anima, which studies the substantial form of living beings; lastly, the other works, in which inquiry is made into the more particular characteristics and functions of living beings. This arrangement, which would seem to merit preference, has the advantage of giving bolder relief to the physical or bodily considerations that are so prominent in this psychology. In other words, the latter course not only avoids the extremely spiritualist or metaphysical procedure that still had its followers not so many generations back, but it is also more in harmony with present-day methods of psychology, in which the study of the organism plays a paramount role. Seen in this light, Aristotle’s psychology appears very modern indeed. 2. The Psychology of St. Thomas a) The psychological writings of St. Thomas.—With refer­ ence to psychology St. Thomas, as previously noted, may be considered cither as a commentator of Aristotle or as a theo­ logian making use of and rounding out a psychological doctrine in furtherance of theological problems. As for the commentaries, those on the De Anima, on De Sensu et Sensato, and De Me­ moria et Reminiscentia arc authentic; the others usually found in the complete editions of St. Thomas’ works are apocryphal? Among his theological writings there are three principal works • Cf. A. M. Festugièrc, "La place du De Anima dans le système aristo­ télicien d’après saint Thomas d’Aquin,” Archives d’histoire littéraire et doctrinale du Moyen Age (VI, 1931 ). 4 Cf. Angeli M. Pirotta’s preface to his edition of St. Thomas’ Com­ mentary on De Sensu et Sensato (Turin: Marietti, 1928). Introduction 15 in which psychological questions are treated at length and in order: Summa Contra Gentiles, Bk. II, chaps. 56-101; Summa Theologiae, la, qq. 75-89; and the Quaestio Disputata de Anima. In addition, there are countless smaller passages scattered throughout his works, especially in the Quaestiones Disputatae de Veritate, De Potentia, and De Malo. b) The sources.—The sources for St. Thomas’ psychological doctrine vary with any given question and must be ascertained in each particular case. The basic source, of course, is Aristotle, on whose principal writings not only in psychology but also in other fields St. Thomas, having long searched and made them his own, wrote commentaries rich in detail and sure of insight. But he also makes frequent use of the great commentaries of antiquity (those of Alexander of Aphrodisias, Simplicius, Philoponus, Themistius), together with those of the Jewish and Arabian commentators of medieval times. Nor should it be overlooked that the psychology of St. Thomas also owes much to various writings of Platonic inspiration, even if sometimes by way of mere reaction to them. St. Augustine, for example, must be regarded as one of his most constant teachers, seeing that his great genius had already raised and thoroughly sifted the prob­ lems of the soul as seen in the light of the Christian message. c) Modern commentaries and studies.—As was to be ex­ pected, the great commentaries and writings of later Scholastics in regard to problems of the soul were inevitably based on the work of St. Thomas. Particularly noteworthy as most true to St. Thomas’ doctrine are those of Cajetan, Sylvester of Ferrara, and John of St. Thomas, the latter being the only one who treated the whole subject in systematic fashion.5 The manuals of many present-day Scholastics merely reproduce the work of John of St. Thomas. As for modern interpreters of Aristotle, especially worth men5 Cf. John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, Pars IV; editio Reiser, III (Turin: Marietti, 1937). 16 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology tioning in the present instance are Rodier, who has made a French translation and commentary of the De Anima; the Eng­ lish Aristotelian Scholar, W. D. Ross, under whose editorship the works of Aristotle have been translated into English, and who himself has written a study of Aristotle’s philosophy as well as commentaries on the Metaphysics and the Physics; and F. Nuyens, whose more recent inquiry into the development of Aristotle’s psychology has already been mentioned.6 6 Also of particular interest to English-speaking readers is the latterly published English translation of Aristotle’s De Anima in the version of William of Moerbeke together with a translation of the Commentary of St. Thomas Aquinas; trans, by Kenehn Foster, O.P., and Silvester Hum­ phries, O.P., and appearing in the “Rare Masterpieces of Philosophy and Science Series" under the editorship of Dr. W. Stark (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul Ltd., 1951).—[Tr.J + CHAPTER 2 Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties I. LIFE AND THE DEGREES OF LIFE i. Distinctive Characteristics of a Living Thing T ALL men have some knowledge regarding the na­ ture of a living thing and its difference from what is nonliving. This knowledge is common property. What, then, lies at the bottom of these spontaneous notions of the average man? In general the real nature of things does not dwell at the surface, to be seen at a glance. In practice, therefore, the philos­ opher as well as the common man must judge of their nature by their activities. Accordingly, the notion of life has to be gathered and put together by observing how living things be­ have, and comparing their behavior with that of nonliving things. This is what Aristotle did, remarking that some natural *7 18 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology bodies have life, others not; and by life is meant self-nutrition, growth, and self-decay.1 In his Commentary St. Thomas notes that Aristotle did not propose this observation as a formal definition of life, but merely as an illustration of certain activities that are typical of it. St. Thomas adds that other activities might have been included, at least for the higher forms of life associated with sense and intellect. Thus, not only self-nutrition, growth, and decay, but also the power to sense and to think, and the power to move themselves locally and to procreate are so many operations all men attribute to living things and, conversely, deny of the non­ living. There is another characteristic that marks off the living being. Unlike what is purely material, a living thing, we say, is an organized being, meaning that it is composed of heterogeneous parts with an orderly arrangement among themselves. A vege­ table, for example, has roots, stem or stalk, and leaves and branches. The whole diversified structure gives rise to a harmoni­ ous ensemble of functions, operating for the perfection of the whole being. On the other hand, the parts of a mere mineral arc, all of them, homogeneous, at least so far as we can judge from our scale of observation. Actually, however, this second characteristic of life reduces to those of the first group, which arc more fundamental. 2. The Formal Definition of Life Needless to say, we want to know more precisely what it is that separates living things from the nonliving. Even a super­ ficial inspection reveals, among other things, that the former are endowed with a certain interiorness or spontaneity not found anywhere else. For example, it is by its own initiative or power that the animal moves from place to place, and nourishes, and reproduces itself, whereas in the motion, say, of a stone the 1 Cf. De Anima, II, i, 412 a 13. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 19 whole impetus, so far as we can see, comes from the outside. 1'his fact leads us to affirm that the power to move itself by il self is distinctive of the living being, since the nonliving is such as to move only in being moved by another. Of course, as used here, the terms “movement” and “being moved” are taken in their widest acceptation, which includes every kind of change ns well as local movement. Such, in general, is the definition of life that has persisted in Aristotelian and Scholastic philoso­ phy. On this point St. Thomas remarks: Life is essentially that by which a thing is able to move itself, tak­ ing the word “movement” in a wide sense, so that even the operation of the intellect can be called “movement.” For, those things that can be moved only by an exterior principle are said to be without life.2 A living being, then, is one that can move itself. But what, exactly, does this statement mean? For one thing, it suggests the spontaneity, the inner thrust and impulse, that seems to characlerize vital activity. A living being, in other words, has within itself the efficient principle of its activity. This is an accurate observation, but we must not take it to mean more than it does. To say that things having life can move themselves does not imply that the movement of nonliving things in no way proceeds from within, or conversely, that the activity of the living does not depend on exterior conditions. By reason of its form, even a nonliving being may be considered as a kind of principle of activity, but all this means is that the nonliving < an transmit, mechanically as it were, the impulse or determinaI ion it receives. A living being, however, responds in an original and assimilative manner to the exterior surroundings on which II variously depends; by its own initiative and power it trans­ forms what it receives from without, doing so in a manner that becomes increasingly more individual and personal according to the scale of its activities. At the physiological level this re* In II De Anima, lect. 1, no. 219; cf. also Summa theol., la, q. 18, a. 1. 20 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology sponse proper to living things is known as “irritability.” At this level, therefore, irritability is said to be the characteristic of life. Even in this primitive scale, however, the words “to move oneself” have another, and deeper, significance. What they mean is that the living being is the object and term of its own activity, that in some respects living things are ends unto themselves. In contrast, the activities of material bodies appear to have no other purpose than to act upon and transform things exterior to themselves. Living beings, on the other hand, act for their own advantage, seeking both to sustain their own being and to ac­ quire its full development. In some manner and measure their activity remains within them, so that it may be designated as immanent. This quality of immanence, moreover, admits of varying degrees, from the comparatively crude inferiority of vegetative life to its highest form in the absolutely perfect possession of self, found in God. 3. The Degrees of Immanence in Vital Activity Common experience has always agreed—and science has found no conclusive evidence to the contrary—that there are three basic kinds of living beings in nature, namely, vegetables, animals, and humans. Following this general acknowledgement, philosophy recognizes a threefold degree of life: vegetative life in plants, sensitive life in animals, and intellectual life in man, noting, moreover, that the lower degrees of this hierarchy are contained in the higher. St. Thomas, it is obvious, took special delight in the study of this hierarchy of the degrees of life, leaving us more than one account of it.’ Sometimes he bases the gradation on the degree of immateriality relating to a substantial form and its 3 Cf. Contra Gentiles, IV, 11; Summa theol., la, q.18, a. 3; q.78, a.i; Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 13; De Potentia, q. 3, a. 11; De Veritate, q.22, a. 1; De Spiritualibus Creaturis, a. 2. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 21 activities; but generally he prefers to determine the kinds of life according to the degree of immanence found in different opera­ tions of life. In the fundamental text on this matter,4 St. Thomas begins with the principle that the more a being is capable of acting by itself, the higher it is in the scale of life. With this principle as a guide he establishes his classification ac­ cording to the greater or lesser degree of inferiority evidenced by the several factors underlying the activity of a living being, these factors being either a principal or instrumental form and the end. Accordingly, he distinguishes three general kinds of living beings in nature: 1) Those beings (plants) in which nature implants both the form and the end of their movement, so that they act as mere instruments of execution in regard to the movement. 2) Those beings (animals) which, while not determining their own end, nevertheless acquire through themselves the forms governing their activities, these forms being the sensible representations that cause them to move themselves. 3) Lastly, those beings (humans) which, being endowed with intellect, are capable both of determining their end and acquiring the form that is the principle of their operations. The doctrine here summarized is set forth at greater length in the following passage from the Summa (la, 18, 3), a passage which we have already referred to as the basic text on the matter: Since a thing is said to live in so far as it operates of itself and not ns moved by another, the more perfectly this power is found in any­ thing, the more perfect is the life of that thing. In things that move nnd are moved a threefold order is found. In the first place the end moves the agent: and tire principal agent is that which acts through its form, and sometimes it does so through some instrument that acts by virtue not of its own form, but of the principal agent, and does no more than execute the action. ♦ Summa theol., la, q. 18, a. 3. 22 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology Accordingly there are things that move themselves, not in respect of any form or end naturally inherent in them, but only in respect of the executing of the movement; the form by which they act, and the end of the action being alike determined for them by their nature. Of this kind are plants, which move themselves according to their inherent nature, with regard only to executing the movements of growth and decay. Other things have self-movement in a higher degree, that is, not only with regard to executing the movement, but even as regards the form, the principle of movement, which form they acquire of themselves. Of this kind are animals, in which the principle of movement is not a naturally implanted form; but one received through sense. Hence the more perfect is their sense, the more per­ fect is their power of self-movement. . . . Yet although animals sense the form that is the principle of their movement, nevertheless they cannot of themselves propose to themselves the end of their operations, or movements; for this has been implanted in them by nature; and by natural instinct they are moved to any action through the form apprehended by sense. Hcncc such animals as move themselves in respect to an end they themselves propose are superior to these. This can only be done by reason and intellect, whose province it is to know the proportion between the end and the means to that end, and duly coordinate them. In the last instance there is the further distinction of lower intellects, such as that of man, and the divine intellect. The former arc not completely self determining, being determined at least by the first principles of the mind; whereas the divine in­ tellect, being always in act, is perfectly autonomous and there­ fore attains the highest possible degree of vital immanence. In the Contra Gentiles St. Thomas takes up the same subject, this time in connection with the doctrine of the Trinitarian pro­ cessions.8 His starting point here is this: The higher a nature in the scale of being, the more interior will be whatever originates • Contra Gentiles, IV, 11. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 23 from it. Thus, at the lowest scale of things we find material bodies, from which nothing can issue forth except through the influence of another. In this way fire begets fire, by producing an alteration in another body. Above material bodies are plants, in which interior emanation of a sort takes place, since it is within the plant that the sap, according to the ancients, is converted into seed. But it is ob­ vious that here there is not perfect inferiority, because the emana­ tion in question, the seed, eventually becomes a being entirely separate from the parent plant. Besides, it should be clearly noted that the original principle itself of this emanation comes from without, namely, the nourishment which the plant through its roots receives from the earth. Superior to plants are animals, in which is found a higher degree of life, having its principle in the sensitive soul. On this level the emanation results in a term that is truly immanent, for the sensory image or form impressed on the senses, proceeds to the imagination from which it is conveyed to and stored in the memory. However, principle and term of the emanation are still separate and distinct, for the sensory powers cannot reflect on themselves. It is only with intellect, a reflective power, that we encounter the highest degree of life. Yet even here there are gradations, since the interiorness marking the activity of this faculty may be realized more or less perfectly, depending on the intellect in question. At the lowest level is the intellect of man, since man depends on something outside himself for the starting point of his intellectual activity. The intellect of the angel is higher, for the angel knows himself directly through himself, yet by an act of knowledge that is distinct from his substance. It is only in the utterly perfect unity and immanence of God that vital activity reaches its absolute perfection.8 In short, vital activity on the one hand and immanence or • Cf. Text I, “The Degrees of Immanence in Vital Activity,” p. 238. 24 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology interiorness on the other, are correlative terms whose progres­ sively higher manifestation corresponds to the hierarchy of per­ fection in living beings. Furthermore, the notion of life, being realized in a manner that is proportional to the various degrees of this hierarchy, is essentially an analogical notion. Conse­ quently, the life of a plant, of an animal, of man, and an angel or pure spirit, are not specifically the same; and in man, more­ over, in whom several degrees of life exist together, there is only an analogical proport ion between the activity of one degree and another. These points should be made clear at the outset, if only to caution against a univocal interpretation of the notions in question. II. THE ARISTOTELIAN DEFINITION OF THE SOUL 1. The Problem of the Soul a) Defining the problem.—The problem of the soul is one with the problem of life. Earliest man himself appears to have been oci upied with it; indeed, it could hardly have failed to draw his allention. Man has always been struck by the fact that certain beings in nature distinguish themselves from others by an organization that is remarkably unified and by a behavior that is original and utterly unlike that of other beings. It was but natural to wonder whether these unique qualities displayed by such beings should be attributed to their having an intrinsic, invisible principle, a soul, whose appearance is simultaneous with the very moment of their begetting and whose disappear­ ance coincides with the moment of their death. Closely connected with the problem of the soul, moreover, have always been religious and moral questions, with the result that belief in the soul has taken many and extremely varied forms. More than one scholar has attempted to retrace the history of this Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 25 belief in one form or another.’ Our present concern, however, lies along different lines. To begin with, let us make it clear what wc mean by soul. In general, the soul is seen as a principle of life. In saying this, we are using the word “soul” in its widest sense, according to which it means nothing more than the first and innermost prin ciple of life. When searching for first and ultimate principles, moreover, one can focus one’s attention on more immediately evident elements relating to the inquiry. For example, in study ing the nature of life, one can concentrate on various organs of a living being, such as the heart, or on a particular faculty, such as the intellect. But these would not be ultimate considerations. 11 is only in taking up the study of the soul itself that we come to grips, as it were, with the ultimate, intrinsic explanation of the dynamic force and energy that characterize living things. As St. Thomas remarks: “To seek the nature of the soul, we must premise that the soul is defined as the first principle of life in I hose things which live.” 8 To forestall every ambiguity, it should further be noted that in the present chapter we are speaking of the soul in general, as common to all living things in nature, Io vegetables and animals as well as to man. The questions to be discussed, therefore, are those that concern the soul in gen­ eral. Those that pertain specifically to the human soul as an immaterial form and the principle of that higher life which is in man, will be dealt with later. ’ Erwin Rohde’s classic work, Psyche: the cult of souls and belief in im­ mortality among the Greeks, is such a study with respect to Greek culture; hans, from the 8th German edition by W. B. Willis (New York: Harcourt Brace, 192$. London: Paul Trench, Truber and Co., 1925) and appearing in the International Library of Psychology, Philosophy, and Scientific Method. Eor the bibliographical details of the English translation of Rohde’s •Judy I am indebted to Virginia Clark, reference assistant to The University of Chicago Library.—[Tr.] • Summa theol., la, 9.75, a.i. 26 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology b) The study of the soul in Aristotle and St. Thomas.—As we have previously said, Aristotle, on the basis of his own study and reflection, gradually abandoned his earlier view of the soul, which was much like the ultra-spiritualist doctrine of Plato, and in its place adopted what may be called an animist inter­ pretation, making the soul the form of living beings. This is the view that emerged as the distinctive feature of his own thought on the nature of living things. It would be most inter­ esting to review in detail the course of this intellectual evolu­ tion in Aristotle, revealing as it does the profound study and insight with which he pursued the subject. But here again we can only refer the reader to the work of specialists in the field.’ For our purpose we shall simply take his doctrine as it was in its state of full development, which is to say, as expounded in the De Anima. Clearly, I he essential core of this work is the definition of the soul. As he had done in Book A of the Metaphysics, when he was investigating the problem of causes, so in the De Anima Aris­ totle begins by setting forth and submitting to critical examina­ tion the theories of the soul held by others before him (Bk. II, chaps. 1-2). In the historical part of his exposition the Stagirite, like his predecessors, first considers the soul as prin­ ciple of movement, and then as principle of sensation. Most of the arguments making up the discussion are directed against various materialist interpretations of life and its manifestations, but the ultra-spiritualist dualism of Plato also comes in for criticism. In the Commentary on the De Anima St. Thomas follows the text before him very closely. In some of his other writings, 0 Cf. F. Nuyens, Évolution de la psychologie d’Aristote (Louvain: 1948). Perhaps for most English readers a more convenient, though less com­ plete, reference in point is W. Jaeger’s earlier-mentioned work, Aristotle, pp. 39-53, 331-341 - Needless to say, not all scholars are in full agreement with jaeger’s reconstruction of the development of Aristotle’s doctrine as a whole, or of his pyschological doctrine in particular.—[Tr.] Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 27 however, he treats this whole question of the soul in a more per­ sonal manner.10 As a matter of fact, when St. Thomas is en­ gaged in a theological work, the framework for the discussion of the soul is quite different, though even here his teaching in the matter, apart from the question of immortality, is basically the same as that of his master. In a theological setting the im­ mortality of the soul and its creation by God are simply taken as revealed data, and the principal point at issue is the possi­ bility and the manner of its union with a body. In St. Thomas, moreover, the discussion as a whole takes a more complex turn by the opinions of ancient and Arabian commentators being brought in, notably those of Alexander of Aphrodisias and Averroes. As we shall see presently, in their treatment of the soul both Aristotle and his disciple address themselves primarily to two general streams of thought, one opposed to the other, namely, materialist mechanism and absolute dualism. Compelled to re­ ject both as unsound, master and disciple brought forth their own solution in terms of hylomorphism, or more precisely, ani­ mism, declaring the soul the form of the body. Our next step, therefore, is to give a brief account of the criticism directed against mechanism on the one hand and Plato’s dualism on the other. 2. The Criticism of Mechanism The materialist or mechanist view of the soul is not the ex­ clusive hallmark of contemporary thought. In one form or an­ other Aristotle himself, not to say his earlier as well as later followers, was confronted with this doctrine. This being so, one may legitimately ask what they thought about it. a) For the answer to this question we may go to the first part of the Summa, question 75, where the matter is treated in terms 10 Cf. especially Contra Gentiles, II, 56-57; Summa theol., la, qq.7576; Quaest. Disp, de Anima, a.i. z8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology that are very clear and to the point. The first article asks whether the soul is a body. The answer is no, because whatever it is that distinguishes a living from a nonliving body, it cannot be an­ other body; else, all bodies would have to be deemed alive. As for the human soul in particular (art. 2), it must further be stated that the higher operation of this soul, the act of intel­ lectual knowledge, cannot have its principle in a body or bodily organ. In other words, if the human soul were corporeal, pos­ sessing a determined, corporeal nature, the intellect would be corporeal, and it could not know other things of similar nature. Were this the case, it would not be true to say that the intel­ lectual faculty is in potency to all intelligible objects. Granted that the soul is not a body pure and simple, in the sense of a slaik materiality, is it perhaps some sort of structural blend or arrangement, resulting from the various elements being reduced to a composite? St. Thomas knew this theory in two forms closely alike, one, attributed to Galen, viewing the soul as a “complexion,” and the other, traceable to Empedocles, as a "harmony.” " The gist of this theory is that living bodies as well as others are actually composed of nothing more than ma­ ten.il elements; but in the former, it is said, there exists a cer­ tain proportional arrangement which, though not a true formal principle, being an eiicct rather than a principle, is nevertheless supposed to account for the organization and activity of the whole. St. Thomas makes it clear, however, that this concession will not save the situation. Neither mere corporeal structuring or texture ("complexion”), nor a harmony, can perform the function of a principle of movement, nor can it serve as an explanation why we sometimes act contrarily to the body’s own inclinations. Also, it cannot account for such operations as knowledge, which plainly surpass the active and passive capaci­ ties inherent in material elements. All of which means that the principle oí life has to be a reality of quite another cast. 11 Cf. Contra Gentiles, II, 63-64. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 29 b) The foregoing arguments are of a general nature. For the sake of illustration, therefore, let us see how St. Thomas deals with a specific point regarding the theory of Empedocles, namely, I he phenomenon of augmentation or growth in living things.11 According to the theory this effect is sufficiently accounted for by the natural motion of light and heavy elements, without recourse to a soul. The downward thrust of the roots is due solely to the natural downward movement of the element of earth, which is heavy, while the upward growth, it is claimed, comes from the natural upward movement of the element of fire, which is light. But, says St. Thomas, this is an impossible explanation, and for several reasons. First, up and down, he believes, are not to be taken in the same sense for the world as a whole and for individual living beings (the upper part of .1 plant, for instance, being its roots, the lower parts its foliage). Furthermore, the interaction of such contrary forces would make for disrupting the living being, unless it were held together by I he greater unifying power of the soul. And as for the assertion that fire alone is the active cause of growth as well as nutrition, St. Thomas answers, yes, fire is indeed a cause in this process, but simply as an instrument of a principal cause, which is none other than the soul. Purely physical energies would tend to produce indefinite increase, whereas growth that is limited and < Icarly defined presupposes a regulating principle, or measure, that is above and beyond the purely physical order. So much for St. Thomas’ handling of the materialist and mechanist interpretation of the phenomenon of growth. Doubt­ less, his arguments, in part at least, appeal to certain physical theories now outmoded. For all that, however, the substance of II is proofs is not without real value or interest for us. Among i>l her things, his procedure makes it clear that the phenomenon in question is a living process displaying original and distinctive qualities. The explanation proposed by the materialist is refuted 11 Cf. In II De Anima, lect. 8. jo Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology by the characteristic behavior of vital transformations being brought into careful and accurate contrast with mere physical operations. Beyond this, a serious attempt is made to give an authentic account of vital activities by putting forward the existence of a governing principle that is not of the purely material order. On the whole, even though scientific facts are now better controlled and more accurately observed, a demon­ stration of this kind, carefully applied, could still have real value. c) With reference to what we have just said, it is worth not­ ing that in our day biological mechanism has again become the target of criticism, this time from some recognized scientists, whose views arc commonly known as “vitalism.” This label, it must be confessed, includes a rather wide assortment of theo­ ries that arc not without differences of their own. Nevertheless, all agree in seeking to explain vital phenomena by some force or power that goes beyond the mere modifications of matter, the inference being, quite correctly, that purely material alterations arc not enough Io account for the unique character of such phenomena. Among this school of thought is a group called “neo-vitalisls,” which includes such acknowledged scientists as Driesch, Remy Collin, and Cuénot. These, among others, frankly assert the need of a vital principle in terms that are strikingly reminiscent of the Aristotelian entelechy. j. The Criticism of Platonic Dualism Another view confronting Aristotle was Plato’s extreme dual­ ism, which regarded body and soul each as a separate and com­ plete substance. T his view, which for a time Aristotle himself endorsed, was almost the exact opposite of the mechanist in­ terpretation of life and its manifestations. If, as we have seen, it is wrong to identify the soul with the corporeal elements or with their over-all behavior, is it correct to say that the soul is a spiritual entity altogether separate from the body, on which it acts from the outside, as it were, like an extrinsic mover? St. Thomas formulates this position as follows: Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 31 Plato and his school held that the intellectual soul is not united to the body as form to matter, but only as mover to movable, for he said that the soul is in the body as a sailor in a boat. In this way the union of soul and body would only be by virtual contact (per con­ tactum virtutis).13 Among the many arguments that make up the Aristotelian criticism and repudiation of this ultra-dualist interpretation of man, there are two that would seem to have been decisive. First, if body and soul are each a substantial and independent unity, it is difficult to see how their association could result in a being that is truly one. As St. Thomas observes: “It follows then that a man is not one simply, and neither consequently a being simply, but accidentally.” 14 Nor do you get around this dilemma by saying that the soul alone is man, the body being but an instrument that it uses. In this case man, whose whole nature would be of the spiritual order, would in no way belong to the world of physical realities, a pretension that is obviously contradicted by experience. In short, there can be no excluding the bodily side of man from the definition of man. Secondly, if the Platonic solution is correct, how can one speak of human experiences having their source in both prin­ ciples of man, that is, in body as well as soul? Yet, there are responses of this kind, as, for instance, fear, anger, and other sensations. These are not experienced in the soul alone, but involve certain definite alterations of the body as well. They point to the necessity of a true unity of being between body and soul. Furthermore, the Platonic difficulty regarding human experiences that are common to body and soul, is not explained away by saying that the soul is the active principle of such movements, which are passively received in the body. This reasoning holds for completely spiritual beings, such as angels. I 'hese can act on bodies by way of contact, but in this case the 18 Contra Gentiles, II, 57. 14 "Relinquitur igitur quod homo non sit unum simpliciter, et per conse­ quens nec ens simpliciter, sed ens per accidens” (Zoc. cit.). 32 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology contact is merely in the order of power or action, and does not result in mover and moved becoming one in being. “Things united by contact of this kind,” remarks St. Thomas, “are not one simply. For they are one in action and passion, which is not to be one simply.” 15 “To act” and “to be acted on” are two dis­ tinct predicaments of accidental being; consequently, in the realm of action as in that of being, the Platonic view labors under the difficulty of its excessive dualism between the spiritual and the bodily principle of man. To sum up, the living being bears abundant witness to pos­ sessing a real unity, notwithstanding the presence of two distinct principles, body and soul, which its behavior impels us to ac­ knowledge. For this reason the bond between soul and body must be something more than an outer union, such as prevails between an extrinsic mover and the thing moved. These con­ siderations led Aristotle to find and propound his own solution, which is as noteworthy as it is original. 4. The Animist (llylomorphic) Solution of Aristotle a) Aristotle’s decisive argument leading to the definition of the soul is found in the first chapter of Book II of De Anima. His procedure consists in reviewing, one after the other, the principal categories of being. Taking as his starting point the evident fact that a living being of nature belongs to the category of corporeal being, he reasons as follows. Substance, the first category, is either spiritual or corporeal. Corporeal substance, which is more evident to us, may be artificial or natural. Among natural corporeal substances, some have life, others not. It is the definition of living corporeal sub­ stances that we are seeking. But, in every corporeal substance, whether it is living or nonliving, three things may be con­ sidered: matter, form, and the composite. The soul of a living substance cannot be its matter, that is to say, the subject, since Contra Gentiles, II, 56. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 33 life is precisely a difference specifying the subject. Nor can it be the composite, which is the living body in its totality. Since the soul is neither matter nor composite, it can be only that which specifies and determines, in other words, form. St. Thomas sums up the Aristotelian argument in the following manner: Since, then, substance may be taken in three ways, namely, as com­ posite, matter, and form, and since the soul is neither the composite, which is the body having life, nor matter, which is the body as the subject of life, we are compelled by the logic of division to say that the soul is substance in tire manner of form, being the form of a particular kind of body, namely, of a physical body having life in potency.16 In this same context St. Thomas goes on to explain why the soul is specifically the form of a body “having life in potency.” The reason is that the body does not have life in act until it is informed by the soul. Next he shows that the act in question is a “first act,” which means an essential form, and not merely an operative or second act. Lastly, he develops the point that the body of which the soul is the form, is a “physical, organic body.” Because the soul has manifold operations for which it needs various organs as instruments, the body it informs must already have a certain organization. Putting all these elements together, we arrive at the classic definition of the soul as “the first act (or form) of a physical (natural) organic body having life in po­ tency” : actus primus corporis physici organici vitam in potentia habentis.17 b) In the second chapter of the same Book II, Aristotle proposes another definition of the soul, one that is based on 16 In II De Anima, lect. i, no. 221. 17 Cf. Text II, “The Human Soul Is Both a Form and a Substantial Individual,” p. 241. 34 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology its operations. Assuming that the soul is the first principle of life, and by life is meant self-nutrition, growth, and decay, he concludes that the soul may be defined as the principle of these activities and, in the case of man, of the higher activity of thought. So, with St. Thomas we can formulate a second, and equally classic, definition, saying that the soul is “the first prin­ ciple by which we live, sense, move, and understand”: anima est primum quo et vivimus et sentimus et movemur et intelligimus.'" It will readily be seen that this definition pares down to the other, since both rest on the more general doctrine of substance. In a composite substance the first principle of all operations is the form. In other words, the form is not only the principle by which such a .substance exists, “quo est,” but also by which it acts, “quo operatur.” c) In brief, then, Aristotle defines the soul as the form of the body. Perhaps, by way of terminating the point, we may be permitted a word of evaluation regarding this celebrated defini­ tion. For one thing, his argument as set forth in the passages here summarized, evinces a logical structure that is altogether flawless and unassailable. But it may also, and for that very reason, seem to be somewhat abstract and remote, lacking both life and substance. Beyond that, Aristotle assumes the validity of his general theory on the nature of composite substances. If, however, wc grant his doctrine of substance, everything falls into place. Still, there is no denying that in its skeletal form, such as it appears in the first chapter of Book II, his argument, though marked, as wc have said, by an inner coherence that is beyond attack, does not of itself adequately reveal the vast labor of thought actually accomplished by the Stagirite. To consider his definition as something apart, without ancestry, as it were, 18 Cf. In II De Anima, lect. 2, no. 273. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 35 would be to overlook the long and careful critical analysis that makes up the entire first book, which is a major achievement in itself, representing the speculations in point of many genera­ tions of thinkers, from Empedocles to Democritus on the one hand, and from Anaxagoras to the author of the Phaedo and the Timaeus on the other. So much has gone before—Aristotle, the founder of the Lyceum, thoroughly assimilating and re­ living it all in his own mind during those long years of study and reflection that went into the full development of his own doctrine. If, as Aristotle was convinced, the materialism of the ancients was unable to explain the distinctive characteristics that living things display both in their structure and activity, and if, as he was equally convinced, Platonic dualism sundered the unity of these beings to the point of no repair, clearly, then, what was needed was to find a new and more comprehensive interpretation, one that would account for all the facts at hand. Accordingly, Aristotle has recourse to the doctrine of hylomorphism, declaring the soul to be neither more nor less than the form of the body. With that, the dilemma between ma­ terialism and dualism collapses. 5. Consequences and Corollaries a) The unity of the living being.—It was precisely his being convinced of the unity in a living thing that led Aristotle to his definition of the soul. Doubtless, a living thing is a complex entity; nevertheless, it is substantially one or unified. Moreover, I lie union of its substantial principles is immediate; so, there is no point in trying to explain what it is that constitutes their bond of unity, their so-called “vinculum substantiale.” Hand in hand with the unity of a living being goes the doc­ trine of the unicity of the soul, which means that in each such being there is but one soul. As for the special case of man, if here we speak of a vegetative soul and a sensitive soul together with the spiritual soul, this is largely just that, namely, a manner 36 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology of speaking. Only the spiritual soul is an independent and sub­ sistent entity, with the power to perform the functions of the other two. On this point St. Thomas firmly stood his ground against all those of his contemporaries who held for a plurality, whether of souls or substantial forms. b) The divisibility of the soul.—Tire unity of the soul im­ poses its undividedness and, it would seem, its presence as a whole in every part of the body. But here a difficulty arises. Certain vital activities, sight for example, appear to be linked to special organs. Docs not this require a specification of the vital principle in regard to these organs? St. Thomas replies that it does, but only as a potential whole is specified in being a principle of diverse activities, yet remaining essentially one. Consequently, the basic indivisibility of the soul is not com­ promised. On this matter of indivisibility the ancients experienced some perplexity because of certain phenomena observed in some living beings, such as plants and lower animals. As is well known, these can be cut or otherwise divided into separate parts that will live. Doc. tin', mean that the souls in question, which are of a less pci led kind, have been divided? Or does it mean that new souls have been educed as if by generation? No definite answer can be given one way or another. What is important is to maintain the oneness of the soul in one living being. c) The corruptibility of the soul.—Since it is the form of a composite substance, the soul follows the general course of such substances. Like every substantial form, it is “educed” at the moment of generation from the potency of matter; and when bodily conditions arc so altered as no longer to meet the requirements of the soul, it reverts to the state of potentiality in matter from which it had been educed. The human soul, however, is directly created by God to be united to a body, and survives the destruction of the body. This is a question that has to be considered separately. From the standpoint of general Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 37 biological theory the human soul must be regarded as an ex­ ception. d) How the soul moves the body.—By explaining the living substance in terms of hylomorphism, we avoid the untenable position of materialism without undermining the unity of t lie liv­ ing being, which is the error of Platonic dualism. But in taking this view, how can we still attribute to the soul the activity of moving the body? The answer, in the first place, is that the soul’s moving the body is not, strictly speaking, an efficient motion, that is, a movement in the order of efficient causality, because an ex­ ercise of efficient causality results jointly from body and soul, which is to say, from the living being as a whole in its composite reality. Hence, if in such a movement the soul is considered separately, it can only be as a formal principle, a principle by which or “quo.” The fact is that the form exercises the role of end in regard to the activity of composite bodies, and therefore if is basically as a final cause that the soul exercises its influence on the operations of a living being. In man, accordingly, the lower activity of the sensitive and vegetative order, as well as his intellectual activity, is designed to serve the spiritual soul. III. THE POTENCIES OF THE SOUL Aristotle introduces the question of the potencies of the soul in the following manner.19 The soul, he says, is defined as the principle of many diverse activities, such as to sense, to desire, Io think, and to move from place to place. Does a living being perform each of these activities through the soul in its entirety, < >r should we say that they correspond to different parts in the ■.oui? Leaving aside the rather complicated answer presented in I )e Anima, we shall go directly to the Summa of St. Thomas, which contains a good summary of the whole matter.20 IB Cf. De Anima, II, 3. “Summa theol., la, qq.77-78. 38 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology i. The Essence of the Soul Cannot Be Its Potencies The question, as we have said, is whether one has to admit the existence of certain principles of operation that are distinct from the essence of the soul. St. Thomas has a whole series of arguments to prove that such distinct principles must be ac­ knowledged.21 a) In any given ordci of being, act and potency must belong to the same highest genus within that order. But it is clear that the operations of the soul do not belong to the genus of sub­ stance; therefore the corresponding potencies cannot belong to this genus. 11 follows that they are accidents; and if accidents, they are really distinct from the essence of the soul. b) From the standpoint of its essence the soul is in act. If, then, it wcie the immediate principle of operation, one should have to say that it is continuously performing its operations. But experience docs not bear out such a statement. Hence, the soul is not the immediate principle of operation. c) Being, diver.e, the activities of the soul cannot be traced to a single piim iplc, yet the soul obviously is a single principle. Consequently, there must be a plurality of potencies, distinct from the soul, to account for the diversity of activities per­ formed. d) Some potencies are the acts of definitely determined bodily organs, but others are not. Manifestly, the essence of the soul, being one, cannot be in this twofold situation at the same lime. So, I here are distinct potencies for such distinct modes of operation. e) Some potencies act upon others; for example, reason acts upon I he sense appetite, both in its concupiscible and irascible form. This is clearly impossible if one does not admit, in addi­ tion to the essence of the soul, a plurality of potencies. These arc some of the arguments to prove that the potencies « Cf. Summa theol., la, q.77, a.i; Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 12. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 39 are distinct from the essence of the soul. Apropos of these argu­ ments, the following points should be kept in mind: First, the distinction in question between the soul and its faculties is, plainly, nothing less than a real one. Second, the faculties are to be understood as belonging to the genus “quality,” in the second of the four species of quality. Third, the potencies that are linked to a bodily organ exist in the composite, that is, they inhere in the whole living being as in their subject; whereas the potencies that do not need a bodily organ for their operations, inhere directly in the soul. Fourth, the potencies are said to “emanate” or issue from the essence of the soul; in some way, therefore, the soul may be considered as the cause of the potencies. 2. Concerning the Specification of the Potencies of the Soul To the question whether the potencies of the soul are one or many, the obvious answer is that they are many. The mul­ tiplicity and diversity of operations displayed by living beings, especially by the higher types, cannot be explained without recourse to a plurality of potencies. How, then, are potencies distinguished from one another? St. Thomas, following the general principles of his metaphysics, teaches that they are distinguished or specified by their acts and their objects: potentiae animae distinguuntur per actus et objecta.22 This principle stems from the very nature of a potency, since potency always implies order or relation to act. It follows, then, that potencies are diversified by the acts to which they are ordered. Acts, in turn, are specified by their objects, whether lliey be acts of passive potencies, which are moved by their objects, or acts of active potencies, which tend toward their « Cf. In II De Anima, lect. 6; Summa theol., la, q.77, a. 3; Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 13. 40 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology objects as toward an end. In every case, therefore, we must say that potencies are specified by their objects through the medium of their acts. Furthermore, it should be noted that the differences to be considered in the object are those to which the potencies are disposed or ordered by their proper nature. For example, the senses are diversified by different qualities in the sensible object considered precisely as sensible, such as color or sound, and not by any difference that is accidental to the sense quality. Thus, color is the object of sight, but something that is colored may also be a grammarian. Nevertheless, being a grammarian is accidental to its color considered as the formal object of sight. This doctrine of the specification of potencies by their acts and objects is of the uttermost importance in St. Thomas. It guides the whole order and elaboration of his psychology, and forms the basis for the distinction of habits or virtues; thus, the whole development of his moral doctrine also depends on it. In particular, the treatise on the virtues in the Secunda Secundae, both so penetrating and thoroughgoing, is only a sustained ap­ plication of this truth and principle. 3. The Kinds of Soul and the Division of Potencies St. Thomas treats of the kinds of soul and the division of potencies in several places.23 For our purpose it will be sufficient to outline the main points of the corresponding article in the Sumina, where he gives an excellent summarization of the whole matter, setting forth in order the division of the soul into its kinds, the distinction of potencies, and the grades of life.24 a) There are three kinds of soul.—This enumeration rests on the very basic principle that not all vital activity is of the same kind. The fact is that vital operations differ as to greater or lesser dependence on the body and its activities, and these differences of operation betoken different kinds of life. 2» Cf. In De Anima, I, lect. 14; II, lect. 3 & 5; Summa theol., la, q.78, a.i; Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 13. 24 Summa theol., la, q.78, a.i. Life, the Soul, and Its Faculties 41 Accordingly, we may successively note: first, the rational soul, whose operation does not require the exercise of a bodily organ; next, the sensitive soul, which acts only through the medium of an organ, yet, strictly speaking, does not require any contribu­ tion from the properties of the material elements, since the elements serve only to dispose the organ; lastly, the vegetative soul, which, in addition to the activity of appropriate organs, implies the activity of material elements. In beings having a higher degree of life, the higher soul assumes the functions of the lower. Thus, in man the one rational soul is at once the principle of intellectual life, of sensitive life, and of vegetative life. b) There are five distinct genera of potencies.—This classifica­ tion is based, in part, on the scope of the object encompassed by a potency, for the higher the potency, the more inclusive is the object it considers. From this point of view, then, we can divide objects into three large genera: first, the individual body united to the soul; second, the whole aggregate of sensible bodies; and third, all being universally. Corresponding to these three classes, and following the order of increasing perfection, there are the following dis­ tinct potencies: first, the vegetative potencies, which act only on the body in which they exist; secondly, relative to the two other genera of objects, two further genera of potencies, one in the order of knowledge, including sense and intellect, and the other in the order of appetition, including appetite and the locomotive power. In man, therefore, there are five distinct genera of potencies or faculties, which St. Thomas designates as follows: vegetativum, sensitivum, intellectivum, appetitivum, motivum secundum locum. These, moreover, may be subdivided into several species. c) There are four grades or modes of life.—This last division is predicated on the hierarchy of perfection in living beings, the 42 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology perfection increasing with the number and variety of powers or faculties possessed by such beings. In the lowest order are those beings having only vegetative powers; these are the plants. Next are those that have both sensory and vegetative powers, but not self-locomotion; these arc the lower animals. Still higher are those beings which, together with the aforesaid powers, have the capac­ ity to move themselves locally, making it possible to move about in search of the things they need to live. But highest of all in nature are those beings endowed both with all the foregoing powers and with intellect; these are men. Appetite as such does not constitute a distinct grade of life, since it is found ana­ logically in all being. + CHAPTER 3 Vegetative Life + BIRTH, self-nourishment, growth, generation, de< ay, these are so many processes that all men attribute to living I kings belonging to the lowest degree of life, which is called vegetative. As previously noted, the particular scope of this degree of life, its object so to speak, is simply the body that is informed by the soul, and nothing more: vegetativum . . . habet pro objecto ipsum corpus vivens per animam.1 On this level we find three principal functions, differing specif­ ically one from another: nutrition, augmentation or growth, mid generation. I. Nutrition Of all vital phenomena, one of the most common and most tegular in occurrence is nutrition. Living beings, it is clear, can' Cf. Summa theol., la, q. 78, a.i. 43 44 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology not continue to live without nourishing themselves. It is ob­ vious to everyone that when an animal or plant stops feeding itself, it dies. The most immediate purpose of nutrition, then, is the preservation of the living being. Its necessity, apparently, derives from the organic nature of the living substance. Simple elements require no such activity; they either exist or not. Living beings, on the other hand, cannot maintain a proper balance and harmony of their various parts without the conserving activity of nutri I ion. There arc additional reasons for the existence of the nutritive function. To ment ion one, it is a fact of experience that the two other important activities of vegetative life, growth and genera­ tion, do not function in a living being unless it is fed. Thus, on the vegetative level of vital activity nutrition holds a place that is altogether basic. b) Dc/mi/imi of Nutrition.—In the Commentary De Anima St. Thomas defines nutrition as follows: “Properly speaking, that is .ml to he nourished which receives something into itself for its preserva! ion”: id piopric nutriri dicimus quod in seipso aliquid recipit ad sui conservationem.1 Some clarifications of this definition may be noted. Nutrition, strictly speaking, consists neither in the absorption of food nor in the chcniieal change it undergoes in the process of digestion— a pioccss Aristotle attributes to heat, characterizing it as a sort of cooking. Taken formally, nutrition denotes the conversion of food into the substance of that which is nourished; in other words, it consists in the living being assimilating and making its own another substance, with the result that it preserves its own being and is able to exercise its various activities. Such a process, it should be observed, cannot be reduced to a simple bringing together or juxtaposition of material parts; what it * In II De Anima, lect. 9, no. 341. Vegetative Life 45 presupposes is nothing less than a real transformation of the added substance. c) Nutrition and the various degrees of life.—It may be of some advantage to compare nutrition proper with certain other activities that resemble it, both in the inorganic kingdom and in the realm of sense and intellect. As already said, the assimila­ tion of food cannot be leveled down to a mere juxtaposition of material elements. But can it be likened to the physical or i licmieal generation of substances, as when, according to the ancients, fire becomes air, or in modern terms, elements combine to form compounds? Admittedly, in both cases, that is, in nutrition and the so-called generation of new substances, one substance is corrupted and transformed into another; but the conditions of these two processes are altogether different. In the generation of elements or compounds the principle and term of the transformation are different; fire, as the ancients thought, bn ornes air, whereas in nutrition the living being itself is both piinciple and term of the operation. Put philosophically, nutri­ tion is an immanent activity—something not found in the mere generation of physical substances or compounds. On the level of sensitive and intellectual life, further com­ pulsons can be made. The process of knowledge, for example, br.irs some resemblance to bodily nutrition. Both sentient and intelligent beings do, in a way, nourish themselves in the realm <>l sense and intellect. Do we not, in fact, speak of spiritual nourishment, and of the hunger and thirst of truth? But again I he differences are unmistakable. The so-called intentional union ol knower and known is something utterly unique. Unlike food In nourishing, neither the knower nor the known is destroyed in the act of knowledge, in which they become one. If anything, II is the knower that becomes the known. Again, the capacity for Imi lily nourishment is strictly limited; but the range of the I h ul ties of knowledge, especially of intellect, is virtually un­ limited. 46 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology 2. Growth a) Its purpose.—Living things—and this, too, is a fact of experience—do not reach their full development by one stroke; their natural height in particular does not appear at once. Living beings grow and increase in height by degrees, until they reach a maximum point that seems to correspond to their complete development. Growth, therefore, which is in the category of quantitative increase, gives every indication of being a distinct process that requires a special faculty: the vis augmentativa. b) Definition of growth.—Before defining growth we must be sure that the quantitative increase of living beings is, in fact, a sufficiently distinct operation to require a special faculty. Might it not be the mere natural result of other vegetative func­ tions, say, of nut i it ion. To judge from appearances one might think so. Certainly, the growth of a living thing depends on its nourishment. Also, it would seem that the generative function, by which a new being is substantially engendered, should like­ wise bestow on this being its proper quantity. Despite these con­ sidi 1 at ion .. St 11..... as was firm in ascribing to growth a specific determination that could not be reduced to anything found in the ollna vegetative activities. Consequently, he maintains the existí ni c ol a distinct faculty to explain the phenomenon in question. To speak prc< iscly, the proper object of growth is the quantity of the living being,. The faculty corresponding to this activity may be defined as the potency that enables a bodily being en­ dowed with life to acquire its full stature or quantity as well as the full development of its powers: secunda autem perfectior operatio est augmentum quo aliquid proficit in majorem perfectionem, et secundum quantitatem et secundum virtutem.3 • In II De Anima, lect. 9, no. 347. Vegetative Life 47 Like every vital operation, the process of growth, having both its principle and termination within the living being, is an immanent activity. c) Growth and the various degrees of life.—Inanimate things are capable of increase by juxtaposition; but, exception made perhaps of crystals and what modern science calls the ultra­ viruses, they do not admit of genuine growth. Briefly, growth is an activity that is proper to living beings. Above the vegetative level of life we find certain processes of development or increase that bear comparison with growth. But I lie comparisons also bring out the differences. The fact is that in the proper sense of the word quantitative growth does not occur beyond the corporeal world. In these other degrees of life there is only increase according to quality. In his treatise on habits St. Thomas has carefully analyzed the very special conditions of this type of increase.4 Interesting as it might be, .1 discussion of this point would take us too far afield. The mere mention must suffice. 3. Generation a) Its purpose.—In addition to self-nourishment and the iltainment of their full development, living beings also have the power to generate, that is, to produce a being of their own ■ pccific kind. Aristotelian physics, it is true, spoke of generation with respect to the elements, such as fire and water. But it is clear that in living beings this operation is quite different, with properties all its own. The purpose of generation, also, is suf­ ficiently obvious; moreover, one can consider it from two dif­ ferent aspects. First, with respect to the individual and the whole of its activities, generation is a term and perfection: a term in reference to the other operations of vegetative life, nutrition and growth, 4 Cf. Summa theol., la Ilae, q. 52, “De causa habituum quantum ad augmentum." 48 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology which prepare the way for generation; a perfection inasmuch as to generate means to transmit one’s being, to give oneself, thus realizing, in a manner, what is implied in the expression “act of the perfect,” actus perfecti. Secondly, from the standpoint of living beings collectively, generation is meant for a higher purpose, the continuation of the species. From this aspect, the perfect is the species, which endures, and the imperfect is the individual, which cannot live forever. As if to remedy this defect and survive by proxy, the individual imparts its nature to others that will continue its survival. These two purposes and points of view, it need hardly be said, are not exclusive one of the other, but complementary. b) Définition of generation.—In the Summa St. Thomas defines tin ."cm i al ion of living things as follows: “Generation . . . signifies the origin of a living being from a conjoined living principle . . . by way of similitude . . . in the same specific na­ ture”: generatio significat originem alicuius viventis a principio vivente coniuncto . . . secundum rationem similitudinis ... in natura eiusdem speciei * Iu llu. loi 1u11l.ilion, which has become classical, the words “origin of a living being” designate what is common to all gcuei.ilion Tin woids “from a conjoined living principle” tell tin spci ilic dilli Kmc of generation in living beings. The last two qualifications, “by way of similitude” and “in the same •.[><■< ific nature,” exclude from the definition such excrescences as I lie hair, as well as such things as the various secretions of the body. The process by which these things are produced is not a true generation because they do not arise from and result in a nature of the same specific kind. c) Generation in other levels of being.—As remarked earlier, in the realm of beings below vegetative life we find a sort of •Summer theol., la, q.27, a.2. Vegetative Life 49 generation, namely, of one element or substance from another. But this process differs from generation proper, most of all be­ cause the activity involved is purely transitive. Likewise on the plane of intellectual or spiritual being, genera­ tion in the strict sense does not occur, at least not among creat cd spirits. The “verbum mentis” or concept, in which intellectual knowledge expresses itself, is not of the same nature as the principle from which it proceeds. There is, however, one ex­ ception in point; it is found in God, who, as faith teaches, truly begets the second Person of the Blessed Trinity. By contrast with human generation, the manner of this begetting is of such lianscendent character as to exclude absolutely all imperfection on the part of God. How to go about elucidating this mystery is .1 matter for theology. * Concluding Remarks on Vegetative Life From what has been said it is clear that vegetative life as conceived in Aristotelian philosophy embraces a number of welldefined and co-ordinated activities involving a certain degree of immateriality and, correlatively, of immanence. Among the three principal functions distinguishable on this level, there exists a priority of order. Nutrition is the basic function, pre­ supposed by the other two. Growth completes nutrition, and the further end of both is generation, in which vegetative life in <>ne respect reaches its culmination. Much could be said by way of appraisal and criticism of this doctrine of vegetative life, which reveals both keen insight and discrimination. Admittedly, in the light of the great progress made by the various sciences dealing with life, many of its details would need to be reworked. But there is no doubt that I he basic insights on which it rests, retain their essential truth and value. • Cf. Summa theol., loc. cit. + CHAPTER 4 Sensitive Life 4 OVER and above beings endowed with mere vegeta­ tive life, we Find beings in nature that are also provided with sensitive activity We have already seen that the principle of this activity kakIcs in a special kind of soul, the sensitive soul. Common < xpeiiencc, moreover, testifies to the presence of three basic types oí {acuities in this soul, namely, those of sense knowl­ edge, those oí sense appetite, and the faculty of locomotion. ’IIk sc fac ulties ind then vital activities will be considered in the order mentioned. Part One: Sense Knowledge Sense knowledge results from the immediate action of ma­ li liai objects on the senses. Following Aristotle, St. Thomas distinguishes two groups of faculties in the realm of sense knowl­ edge, the external senses and the internal senses. The first are moved directly by sensible objects, which cannot be perceived unless they are externally present. The second group obtains knowledge of material objects through the medium of the 5° Sensitive Life 51 former. Furthermore, since some of the internal senses retain the species of perceived objects, they can have a certain knowl­ edge of them even in their absence. It should also be noted that I he terms “external” and “internal” do not necessarily refer to location of the organ of sense. There may quite possibly be external senses in the body whose organs do not lie on the surface. For example, as understood by Aristotle the external sense of touch and its organ or organs are not on the outside, but within the body. Some authors begin the study of the senses with a preliminary consideration of the metaphysical principles relating to knowl­ edge in general. Such considerations, we think, are better left for the opening chapter on intellectual life, where they can be more fully applied. The present study of the senses, therefore, begins immediately with the analysis of sensation. I. THE EXTERNAL SENSES Our discussion of sensation is based on Aristotle’s treatment of the same problem in De Anima 1 and De Sensu et Sensato. In the main, St. Thomas follows the doctrine of Aristotle, I hough sometimes his procedure and arrangement of the matter Die slightly different.2 Later commentators, John of St. Tliomas especially,3 have added their own developments to the subject, no that in handling the various sources care must be had to identify the personal contributions of each author. i The Problem of Sensation in Aristotle Almost invariably the first reaction of modern psychologists |o the Aristotelian doctrine of sensation is one of bewilderment. Tins impression arises not only from a difference of tool and I 1 I ' |lu I • Hk. II, chaps. 5-12. Besides his commentary on the corresponding portions of Aristotle, see Summa theol., la, q.78, a.3 and the Quaest. Disp, de Anima, a.rj. ( if. Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, Pars IV, qq.4-6. 52 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology technique, but even more from the way the whole problem is conceived. In the Aristotelian discussion of the matter one of the first questions to be raised, if not the first, is whether a faculty of sense knowledge is an active or passive potency. At the very outset, then, the problem revolves around the metaphysical topic of act and potency. Such an approach, it need hardly be said, is very different if not utterly foreign to the way modern psychology goes about its inquiry. In any event, according to Aristotle sensation in its initial phase is a passivity, that is, a being acted on. To sense is in the first instance to undergo an action (pair), to be altered in some way. In this opeiation the active principle is the perceived object. I his position manifestly is a reaction against the Platonic doctrine ol sensation, which minimized the role of the sensible object. In the view of Aristotle the external thing itself somehow moves and determines the sense faculty, and sensation results from the faculty being moved and acted upon, that is, from a passion.4 But the alteration undergone by sense is utterly irrcdu< ihh Io the modification that results from a purely material thing, being subjected to an abrasive or frictional action. The sense fac ulty, al l< ast in normal sensation, is in no way impaired by i< i ■ >n of its passive role; on the contrary, in being thus acted on, it al lams ils piopci perfection. All this is by way of saying that when the sense faculty receives a form, the mode of re­ ception is utterly clitic icnt from receiving a form in the entitativc order. 1'his dille aenee is construed as the capacity of sense Io receive the form without the matter. We are about to see how St. Thomas avails himself of this point in developing the doc 11 inc of sensation, b'or the moment keep in mind that for his master Aristotle, one of the most striking things about sensation is its passivity. 4 In the Latin translation of Aristotle, “Sensus in moveri aliquid et pati accidit.” Cf. De Anima, II, 5, 416 b 33. Sensitive Life 53 The Passivity and Activity of the Senses According to St. Thomas In substance, St. Thomas adopts the Aristotelian position ■.cl forth in the foregoing paragraphs. Thus, in the Sumina he writes: “Now, sense is a passive power, and is naturally inunuted by the exterior sensible.” 5 The same view is expressed in the Commentary De Anima. “To sense,” he asserts, “consists in being moved and acted on. For, when the sense is in act, it under­ goes a certain alteration. But when a thing is altered, it is moved and acted on.” 6 Sensation, then, is the result of an object acting on sense, which, from this point of view, must be considered a passive potency. But is it only passive? Do we not also, and as a matter oí course, speak of the activity of sense? Certainly we do; and SI. Thomas was not unaware of it. In some places, even, the more active role in sensation is seemingly attributed to the faculty itself or to the soul, instead of the object. For example, in the Commentary De Sensu et Sensato, speaking of sight he says: “Sight, considered in its being or reality, is not a corporeal passion/ but its principal cause is the power of the soul.” 8 Despite appearances, there is no discrepancy here. We have but to remember that in the process of sensation there are two phases: the passive phase, in which the sense is informed and determined by the external object; and the active phase, which pioperly constitutes the act of knowledge, and in which the in­ Im med faculty determines itself. This is how the commentators 11 “Est autem sensus quaedam potentia passiva quae nata est immutari «b exteriori sensibili” (Ia, q.78, a. 3). • "Sentire consistit in moveri et pati; est enim sensus in actu quaedam iilleiatio, quod autem alteratur patitur et movetur” (In II De Anima, l*cl. 10, no. 350). 1 That is, does not consist in being acted on corporeally.—[Tr.] " In De Sensu et Sensato, lect. 4. 54 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology in general explain the matter, and it may be that their inter­ pretation lays more stress on the active side of sensation than does the literal text of Aristotle. Initially and fundamentally, however, sensation is a passivity or passive process. St. Thomas on his part is careful to elucidate the special character of this passivity, which, as we have seen, is not to be confused with the passivity of matter.9 He notes that a subject receiving a form may receive it, and so be affected, in two ways. In other words, the modification of the subject may be of the material order, and this he calls a natural immutation, immutatio naturalis; or, it may be of the immaterial order, and this he calls a “spiritual” immutation, immutatio spiritualis. In the first case, when the form is received the subject is changed in its natural being, naturale; in the second case, it is modified in its intentional or objective being, esse spirituale. Both type, <>f alleiation may be present in sensation; but it is the so-called spiritual immutation that gives the immediate and pmpci i the imagination are altogether separate and distinct, so that .1 power that is only receptive and not retentive of its data, Mich as the outer senses and the common sense, cannot account loi them. The imagination is also to be distinguished from the oilier internal senses: from the estimative power, which, as we ■Jinll see, apprehends certain nonsensed species and formalities licit lie beyond the grasp of the other senses; and from memory, which always implies a reference to the past, something that is n 11 hilly foreign to the other senses. The activity of the imagination.—Modern psychology de­ voles much study to the various activities of the imagination, 74 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology endeavoring to formulate as accurately as possible the laws relating to such phenomena as the reviviscence, the association, and the transformation of images. Among the ancients and Scholastics we find nothing to compare with these more thor­ oughly detailed and difficult investigations made possible by the advance in method and technique. For all that, however, our forebears had a deep appreciation of the pivotal role of the imagination in human conduct. For them, the influence of the imagination in regard to the emotions was simply fundamental; they also knew it as the faculty in which our dreams are un­ folded; and they understood, perhaps better than many after them, that ils spell and allurement were largely responsible for error invading the mind. Be it said, in review, that the dis­ coveries of lalei psychologists in no way contradict these broad observations. Mode in knowledge of the imagination finds easy lodgment within I he framework of former ideas. The details arc new, the substance the same. 3. The isUnialive and the Cogitative Power The docliiiic of the estimative and the cogitative power (Lilin n'-. u< ■■limativa and vis cogitativa) represents one of the most nolahk balines of the Aristotelian and scholastic theory of sense knowledge. This doctrine, like every other in tin Peripatetic liaililion, stems from experience. It is a fact of common knowledge that animals seek or flee certain objects, not merely because they arc pleasant or unpleasant to a par­ ticular sense, but also because they are useful or harmful to the nature of the animal as a whole. A sheep, as St. Thomas likes to icpcat, flees the wolf, not because of his color or appearance, but because of his threat to the sheep’s very existence. Similarly a bird gathers straws, not only to gratify its senses, but in fur­ therance of the nest it is building. Such formalities as useful­ ness and harmfulness, however, manifestly fall beyond the reach of the outer and the other internal senses. Nor, in the animal Sensitive Life 7$ ni least, are they grasped by the intellect, which animals do not have. Consequently, we must fall back on a special sensory power whose proper object is the so-called nonsensed species or intentions, intentiones insensatae, the perception of which gives rise to certain motor and appetitive impulses. As we have just intimated, the doctrine of the estimative power appears to have been evolved as an explanation for cer­ tain animal reactions that would otherwise be unaccountable. But similar reactions are observable in the sense activity of man; hence, there is every reason to affirm the existence of this internal sense in man as well. One can readily see, however, that In man’s conscious life this faculty will have a very special role In perform, above all because of its influence in regard to the Intellect, which is the higher faculty governing man’s conduct. I'br this reason it has received a special name. Its counterpart m I lie Augustinian tradition is the lower reason, ratio inferior; but St. Thomas adopts the term we have already mentioned, namely, cogitative power. More precisely, the cogitative power ■ I liters from the estimative in that its field of operation is broader, but even more in that by reason of its adjacency to I lie higher faculties of intellect and will, and in regard to con1 u le, individual objects or images, it can institute a manner of comparison and discourse that borders on the strictly rational ili .course of man. Hence also this other name for it, which is “particular reason,” ratio particularis, denoting a certain “reamu” or discourse on the level of particular, in contrast to uni­ versal, objects. Because of its closeness to intellect—a closeness which, ob­ viously, is not a spatial or temporal affinity—the cogitative power, to repeat, fulfills a most important role in the life of man. In general, its function consists in being a sort of mediating I .!■ ulty between sense on the one hand, which grasps the ma­ lt nal singular, and intellect on the other hand, which is the (ut ility of the abstracted essence. Tirus, it serves to prepare the 76 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology immediate phantasms for the consideration of the intellect; and it is also instrumental in accommodating the higher com­ mands of reason to the practical realm in the world of sense. If, for example, I intend to write something, it is through the cogitative power that my intellect is in cognitional contact with this individual pen I hold in my hand for the purpose in mind, namely, forming certain characters on white paper that lies be­ fore me. Before leaving the cogitative power we should say a word about instinct, since one can hardly study the former without being reminded of the vast labors expended by the moderns on the latter. Their is no doubt that the activity attributed to the cogitative powci is in some way connected with the group of sensory activities that modern psychologists call instinct, or instinctive. As understood in the older psychology, however, the estimative or cogitative power corresponds only to the cog­ nitional element of modern instinct, which also includes appe­ titive and locomotive factors. Considered in the light of the older view, instinct would bear a stronger intellectual or imagi­ nai ion il icIck n< i. but it would not on that account exclude the plored with remarkable success; nor are we going to deal with the moral aspects of the passions. Briefly, then, instead of « psychological explanation in the modern sense, or a moral Mndy, what follows is rather a summary of the general meta­ physical doctrine of the sense appetite.36 I. THE APPETITIVE POWERS I. The Existence of the Appetitive Powers in General ( )ur starting point in regard to the sense appetite may well be I he article in the Summa with which St. Thomas begins his i uns ¡deration of the appetitive powers.37 As this article assumes, I he existence of sense appetite is a fact of experience. But the I'"mt at issue is whether the appetitive life of man requires a Ipc cial faculty or group of faculties. Appetition in general is a universal occurrence, existing in both inanimate and animate bi mgs. For this very reason one might think that all appetition In only an instance of that natural inclination of which all I " ings are possessed. What lends even more plausibility to this Nu,"gestion is that the various faculties of the soul seem to direct themselves toward an object, instead of being so directed by an­ uí her power. Why, then, in addition to this inclination of naliuc, insist on a special power of appetition? , SI. Thomas opens the whole question by invoking a princi" I " or St. Thomas’ doctrine on the sensitive appetite the student may knmilt Summa theol., la, q.8o, aa. 1-2; q.81, aa. 1-2; and De Veritate, •|i aç, aa. 1-2. I •’ la, q.8o, a. 1. 8o Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology pie that governs its entire discussion, namely, that every form gives rise to an inclination: quamlibet formam sequitur aliqua inclinatio. Fire, to give an example, is by its nature inclined to rise, and to produce its like. For the present purpose, more­ over, all beings may be divided into two kinds: those with the power to know, and those without it. In beings that lack knowledge the form determines each to its own being alone, and this form is followed by a natural inclination which is called natural appetite: appetitus natu ralis. This natural form and the consequent natural inclination are found also in beings that can know, but these can also possess the forms of other things, receiving them in their faculties of knowledge according to a higher mode of existence, which is called intentional existence. Corresponding to these forms, musí be an equally higher mode of inclination, by which a being with the power to know is moved to seek the good it apprehends. This inclination goes by the name of animal ap petite: appetitus animalis. 2. Divisions of Appetite a) Natural appetite and animal appetite.—It will pay ns Io lake a doser look at the division of natural and animal appetite, so as to gel at the precise meaning of these terms. Natural appetite denotes the natural inclination that arises from form universally. This inclination is simply the ever actual tendency that moves a form to seek its good or perfection. Like the form from which it naturally proceeds, natural appetite, therefore, has a very precise determination. It is by its natural appetite that a stone, for example, always gravitates towaid earth; it is the nature of a stone to do so. Animal appetite, on I he other hand, results from a form re ceivcd through knowledge. So it is that the animal in seeing his prey is moved to pounce on it. This kind of appetite differs from the other in several respects. Unlike natural appetite, il Sensitive Life 81 r. not continuously in act. Before seeing his prey the animal has the power to pursue it, but is not always being moved to do so. Animal appetite, therefore, is a power that can be re­ duced from potency to act. Again, this power is distinct from the faculties of knowledge, ii conclusion that follows from the respective activities of these I wo kinds of potencies being specifically distinct. The act of knowledge is assimilative and terminates in the subject; the act oí appetite is a tendency away from the subject toward the object. Activities so different can be accounted for only by distinct faculties. Another difference is that animal appetite, in contrast to imlural appetite, is not limited to the natural form of the inbject, but is capable of responding to as many forms, in piactice unlimited, as the cognitive faculties are capable of in civing. Furthermore, if we consider only the appetite proper to each faculty, we meet with yet another difference; for the natural appetite of any faculty pertains only to the proper good of the faculty, whereas its corresponding animal appetite bears mi (lie good of the subject as a whole. And since animal appe­ lli' involves the actuation of a potency, it is commonly re­ tened to as “elicited appetite.” Application to the faculties of knowledge and appetite.— Tin- foregoing distinction admits of application to the individual (iii ulties of the soul; for, as St. Thomas observes, each power id the soul is a sort of form or nature, having a natural incli­ nation to something. A faculty of knowledge, however, has (inly a natural appetite, which inclines it toward its object, Kin li as the visible and the colored for sight. In regard to an flppctitive faculty one can speak of two distinct appetites: II' natural appetite, always in act, which tends toward the good (il ihis faculty; and its elicited or animal appetite, which, after itn ail of knowledge, determines this faculty to the particular I.... I apprehended. Accordingly, going back to our earlier ex- 82 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology ample, we find that the animal has in his visual potency a nat­ ural appetite for the whole visible order, and in his appetitive faculty another natural appetite for whatever can gratify this faculty. But let the animal meet his coveted prey or let his in­ ternal senses revive the image of prey previously sensed, and his appetitive potency will “elicit” the further act of desire that determines the process of prowl and capture. b) Sensitive appetite and intellectual appetite.™—The dis­ tinction of sensitive and intellectual appetite offers no basic difficulties. Granted the specific difference of sense and intellect, this essential division is easily deduced. Since appetitive powers as a whole arc passive potencies, they must be differentiated by the distinction of the active principles through which they are determined. 'I hese principles, however, are not all of the same nature, for some arc the acts of sensory powers, and some of an intellectual power. But sense and intellect, we presup­ pose, are generically different. Consequently, there are two basic kinds nt .i|>|>< hlivc potencies, one pertaining to sense knowl­ edge, the other Io intellectual knowledge. To be noted, also, is that whether a desired thing be appre­ hended by sense or intellect is not altogether irrelevant to it, since the aspect under which it is desired in the one case is formally distinct from the other. Sensitive appetite tends only toward particular goods as such, but intellectual appetite, which is the will, always desires these goods under some universal aspect of good. Consequently, even though tendencies of the will and tendencies of the sense appetite point to the same things existing outside of us, they do not seek them under the same formalities, and hence are not specifically the same. All of which is evidence enough that the faculties giving rise to these separate tendencies arc also clearly distinct. c) Concupiscible appetite and irascible appetite.39—In deal ing with the sensitive appetite in particular, one of the first •" Cf. Summa theol., la, q.8o, a.2. •’Cf. Summa theol., la, q.81, a.2. Sensitive Life 83 things St. Thomas does is to show that this potency is generi­ cally one but comprises two distinct species, called irascible and concupiscible; a distinction, it may be added, that is not without its importance in moral doctrine. The principle on which this partition rests we already know, namely, that specifi­ cally distinct formalities in the object must be found with potencies that are equally different. The sensitive appetite, somewhat like the inherent forces of natural bodies, can tend Inward two different kinds of objects or goods. Sometimes the object is easily good and easily attainable (or the evil easily avoided), a bonum simpliciter; and sometimes the good is diffi< nit of attainment (or avoidance), a bonum arduum. Tire first is the object of the concupiscible appetite, the second of the irascible appetite. That a desirable good is sometimes difficult and sometimes v.isy of attainment, needs no proof. But the question is whether such a circumstance is enough to make for a specific differ­ ence in the object, and hence in the faculty. St. Thomas leaves im doubt that in his view it is enough, and adduces a number id considerations in proof of his assertion. One point he makes |i that the passions of these two appetites counteract each cl her, the rise of one commonly leading to the fall of the other, ns when concupiscence calms anger and anger quiets conI upiscence. Such an incompatibility would seem to require a II >1 responding difference of potency. Also, and this is perhaps more conclusive, the irascible and concupiscible appetites are moved by different faculties of knowledge, the concupiscible living moved by the common sense and the imagination, the jruscible by the estimative power and memory. Everyday ex|u lienee does, in fact, show that the external perception of an nli|i this point. • In III De Anima, lect. 13, no. 787. ’ Summa theol., la, q.14, a.i. Intellect and Knowledge 95 Concerning the Identity of the Intellect and the Intelligible Object in the Act of Knowledge a) The meaning of this identity.—Knowing beings, we have just said, can become other things. But what is the exact mean­ ing of this statement? Its obvious meaning is that at the term of the process of knowledge the knowing subject and the thing known are somehow one. Viewed from this aspect, knowledge consists in a certain identification of subject and object. This notion occurs in many places of De Anima. Following are Mime typical examples, to which many others could be added. rhe act of the sensible object and that of the sentient sub­ ject are one and the same act.” 8 “There is that intellect which is such as to be able to become all things.” 8 “The soul in a way is all things.” 10 St. Thomas repeats the same thought many Innes, formulating it as follows: intellectus in actu est intellectum in actu. To get beyond the surface meaning of these and of similar expressions, consider a moment the interpretation of knowl­ edge proposed by Democritus, since Aristotle offered his doc11 inc as a corrective to it as well as to Plato’s. The basic idea of I li inocritus was that like is known by like. For him, this meant I hat the external elements, water, air, earth, and fire, were known respectively by the water, air, earth, and fire of which, In varying proportions, the organs of perception were composed. As was to be expected, Aristotle rejected the grossly materialist application of the Democritean principle. The external ele­ ments were somehow communicated to the senses, so much was sure, but not in their purely material reality; they were " De Anima, III, 2, 425 b 26. ’ Ibid., 5, 430 a 14. 111 Ibid., 8, 431 b 21. 96 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology there by their similitude or likeness, known in formal language as “species.” Perhaps even more imperative in the eyes of Aristotle was it to insist that before the act of knowledge the object has no existence whatsoever in the knowing faculty. Initially, there­ fore, the so-called intelligible form exists in the intellect neither in act nor even in potency. In Aristotelian psychology it is simply a cardinal truth, if not indeed a truism, that originally the soul is like an empty slate, utterly unwritten, a tabula rasa. The intelligible object is not introduced until the act of knowl­ edge begins; only then is it true to say that the intellect (in act) is the intelhgiblc (in act). We see, then, that the formula in question has both a negative meaning, which is that the in­ tellect (in potency) is not the intelligible object, and a posi­ tive meaning, namely, that when the intellect is in act it is identical with the intelligible object. This principle may also be clarified from another quarter. In the study of motion in the Physics Aristotle had reached the conclusion that in motion the mover and moved have one and the same a< I. and that the subject of this one act is the thing moved Applying I hr. general principle to sensation, Aristotle affirms that in a ir.r perception the sensible object and the sentient subjec t have a single act in common, residing in the latter.11 T’hc same conclusion holds for intellection, in which the intellect and the intelligible object become one, only here the identification is mue h deeper and much more perfect. A question brought up in this connection is whether the identification of subject and object is to be understood of knowledge in its first ad or initial phase (in which the faculty is informed by the “species quo,” that is, the form by which the thing is known), or only in its second act or terminating phase (in which the faculty is informed by the “species quod,” or the form known). To this question Aristotle himself does not 11 Cf. De Anima, III, 2, 425 b 25 Intellect and Knowledge <77 give an answer in so many words, since he does not make the explicit distinction of species “quo” and “quod.” But we need not hesitate to reply for him. There is no doubt that in his opin­ ion the identification takes places, proportionately speaking, at both moments of the act of the intellect. Immediately the external likeness is received, a certain union of subject and ob­ ject ensues; but the union does not attain its full perfection be­ fore the consummation of the act of knowledge. b) The degrees of identification. —The identification of sub­ ject and object is not all on the same level, but corresponds to the degrees in the hierarchy of knowing beings. St. Thomas says as much in several places.12 In every case the mode of union is proportional to the degree of knowledge in question. In God the union is of the highest possible kind, utter and absolute. In Him there is no real distinction of knower and known from any point of view. Since the divine being is im­ mediately present to itself, God has no need of a species or likeness informing His intellect. His own essence is His in­ telligible species. In Him, therefore, the identity of subject and object is substantial and absolute. As St. Thomas observes: “Since . . . God has nothing in Him of potentiality, but is pure act, His intellect and its object are altogether (omnibus modis) the same.” 13 Again, if the knower and the known, though really distinct, ne immediately present to one another from the standpoint of knowledge, no likeness or species oí the known is necessary to mediate the union of knowledge. In this case the faculty is directly informed by the object, and the result is identity through immediate union of the two pre-existent entities. This i ireumstance obtains in the beatific vision and, as regards the "species quo,” in the knowledge that a pure spirit has through In. immediate self. I'or example, In I Sent., d.35, q.i, a. 1 ad 3, and Summa theol., la, i, 87, a. 1 ad 3. 1 1 Summa theol., la, q.14, a.2. 98 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology The human intellect occupies the lowest place in the scale of intellect. It cannot be immediately informed by the essence of external things. Hence, in order to know them it must first be informed by their likeness or species. Even so, here, too, one can speak of the identity of knower and known, though to a manner and degree that is clearly less perfect, yet surpassing the order of identity that prevails between knower and known in sense knowledge. 3. The Immaterial Reception of Forms A comparison with certain occurrences in the world of physi­ cal realities will shed furl her light on the mode of identification we have been discussing. A knowing being, we have said, is distinct from nonknowing beings by reason of its capacity to have, over and above its own form, the form of other things. What is this additional informing, or reception of forms? Ob­ viously, it cannot be the sort of reception that takes place between malic a and form in the realm of physical nature. St. Thoma., quoting Averroës with approval, carefully notes that "loims am not i< < c ived in the possible intellect in the same way ni whic h they air received in first matter.” 14 Consequently, there arc two < -Irmly distinct ways of receiving a form. Subjective or entitative reception.—A being of physical na­ ture is essentially constituted by prime matter, in the role of subject, receiving, a •.ubslantial form as exclusively its own: ut suam. In this union oí matter and form each of the two con­ stitutive principle s 11 mains what it is and together with the other makes up a third something, the informed matter, which is the being of nature: the ens naturae. Objective or intentional reception.—In the reception of a form by a knowing subject we have something quite different. The form to be known is not received by the knower as his own, ut suam, but as remaining the form of another, ut formam rei 14 De Verit., q.2, a. 2. Intellect and Knowledge 99 alterius. Here, the subject (knower) becomes the object (thing known), and the result is an identification of the two rather I han a third something. In the order of knowledge the union of subject and form is therefore closer than in the order of na­ ture; yet each of the two members of the union, subject and form, knower and known, remains completely distinct from the other on the ontological or entitative level. To designate the union resulting from the reception of forms in the order of representation or species as opposed to the purely material reI option in nature, it is customary to use the terms "objective” or “intentional” union. ./. Immateriality: the Essential Condition of Knowl­ edge a) Our search into the nature of a knowing being needs to be pushed still further. A comparison of the two aforesaid ways of receiving a form will show that in subjective reception there is a certain restriction or monopolizing of the form by the subject. In other words, the subject confers a particularized or determinate existence, esse determinatum, on the form. In objective reception, nothing of the sort happens, so that a form no received does not have this restricted existence or esse determinatum. The point we wish to make here is that according to the general principles of hylomorphism the restriction or deter­ mination of form comes from matter: coarctatio formae est l>er materiam. Consequently, a subject must be somehow im­ material if a form is to be received without being restricted to and determined by the subject. What this means is that im­ materiality is the quality of a thing that puts it on a level where II can know or be known. Immateriality, therefore, is, beyond mH question, the essential condition of knowledge, radix cogni­ tu mis, to use a standard expression. St. Thomas states the prin­ ciple this way: loo Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology patet igitur quod immaterialitas alicujus rei est ratio quod sit cognoscitiva.1* b) This immateriality has a meaning all its own. Certainly, as we had occasion to remark in the preceding chapter, it is not synonymous with pure spirituality. Nor is it merely the absence of physical matter; otherwise the angels, who are as much devoid of such matter as God, would be on the same level as He in regard to knowledge. In the present context im­ materiality is simply coterminous with nonpotentiality; there­ fore, it excludes all I hat makes for imperfection in a thing. We could use some oilier term to designate this quality, such as perfection or nonpotcntiality; but the preferred term is ‘'immateriality,” mostly because the human intellect attains its knowledge by abstracting from matter. From this point of view, lin n, to know things means that they are released from matter, which is to say they exist in a state of immate­ riality. Also Io be noted is that immateriality as here understood does not haw a purely negative meaning; it denotes a positive quality, that is, a perfection in a being. There are many pas­ sages in which St. Thomas correlates the quality of know­ ability oi intelligibility with the degree of actuality in a thing. Thus he says, foi example, that “everything is knowable ac­ cording as it is actual," 10 and that “the knowledge of every knower is measured by the mode of the form which is the principle of knowledge.” •’ In these and similar remarks St. Thomas is merely giving positive expression to the notion of immateriality. For, it is all the same whether we say that a thing is knowable or intelligible so far as it is immaterial, or so far as it is in act. 18 Summa theol., la, q.14, n.l. 18 Ibid., q. 12, a. 1. 1T Ibid., q. 14, a. 12. Intellect and Knowledge 101 c) Our final remark regarding the immateriality in ques­ tion is that it applies to the subject as well as to the object of knowledge. The more a being is immaterial or in act, the more 11 is intelligible, and correlatively, if it is an intellectual being, the higher it is in the scale of intellect. This principle, however, must be taken with certain qualifications. For one thing, com­ mon experience shows that among lower beings, such as in I lie world of nature, all indeed possess a degree of actuality and < in be objects of knowledge, but not all are knowing subjects. Besides, there are some spiritual entities, such as the will, which do not know. Thus, actuality or immateriality is the condition of knowledge, but not all that is actual or immater ini (nor even all that is spiritual) can know.18 ç. Entitative and Intentional Existence From what we have said about knowledge so far it can be ■.ecu that for every being there are two ways of existing, or I wo kinds of esse, absolutely differing one from the other. There is its natural existence, sometimes called “entitative,” which is the existence a thing has in reality or apart from being known; and there is its intentional existence, which means the thing as known, or its existence in the knower as an object of knowledge. Through knowledge, that is, a thing exists in me, hut quite differently than it exists in itself, or I in myself. Within the framework of knowledge, therefore, “intentional” denotes everything that is known, considered as known. As t «i.ling in the mind, moreover, the object known is also named “intentio intellecta,” the known intention. What needs to be ■tressed here, however, is that for St. Thomas the intentionality I h.11 characterizes knowledge does not at all imply an active h nilciicy toward the object; it must be carefully discriminated . ..... the intentionality of the will, which involves a real incliI •• Cf. Text V, “The Basis of Intellection,” p. 250. 102 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology nation toward the object. The reference to reality that is pe­ culiar to knowledge has a purely representative character, without any real tendency toward the thing known. In general, therefore, thanks to this notion of intentional existence, we can say that there are two great orders of being. One is the order of entitative being, which designates the existence of things in themselves. The other is the order of intentional being, which is a sort of proxy for the former and denotes the existence of things as known. This distinction is as indispensable as it is difficult to grasp. Cajetan’s sage re­ marks on the mallei deserve the fullest attention. “What bunglers they arc!” he complains, “who, in treating of sense and the sensible, of intellect and the intelligible, of intellec­ tion and sensation, judge of these things in the same way as of other mailer. Learn, then, how to train the eye of your mind on this higher ground, there to behold a new order of things.” 18 '¡'he aforesaid doctrine and modern psychology.—Before leaving (his subject, we may ask ourselves what meaning the foregoing < on idi i ii ions can have for a modern psychologist. Doubtless, the various notions we have sought to elucidate are a lai cry liom the detailed and minute observations we find in a modem textbook of psychology. In short, the doc­ trine of knowledge we have outlined is set on a metaphysical plane. This doclnm lo be sure, appeals in some measure to experience and ob'.i ivalion. Indeed, it begins with knowledge as a fact of exp< lienee, but the experience is studied in its most general aspect;, and in terms of a metaphysics of being, especially of natural, that is, bodily being, which is the con­ stant point of reference. It may be granted, I lien, that such a study holds out small attraction for anyone who intends at all costs to keep his in­ quiry on the empiric al level. But if we want to probe beneath the surface, and if we have any curiosity at all as to the inner 18 Comment, in lam Part., q.14, n.i, no. vii. Intellect and Knowledge 103 nature of knowledge, then we must come to the task prepared with metaphysical tools. Such a course is the more imperative when, with the feeble light of human understanding, we try to penetrate the world of spirits, whether of our own, which we can but faintly discern, or of God and the angels, which is wholly beyond our direct view. Before we can have some under standing of the workings of the spirit world, our notions 110111 sense must be set to a metaphysical key; it is here above all, in this metaphysical transposition, that the principles of knowl edge supplied by our former masters prove their truest and most abiding worth. t CHAPTER 6 The Object of Human IntelUfl. and the Formation of intellectual Knowledge Part One: The Object oj the Human Intellect + IN Aiistoh h.in philosophy a potency is specified, and thus defined, hy ils object. Since there are many kinds of objects, we must be dear as to the sort of object under dis­ cussion in the present diaptcr. a) The various objects of potencies.—The first distinction that Scholastics genci.illy make is that of the material object, which is the external thing known in its total reality, and the formal object, which is the precise aspect (of the thing) en­ compassed by the potency. St. Thomas, while not questioning 104 The Object of Human Intellect 105 I he legitimacy of this distinction, usually omits it. Ordinarily, when he speaks of object he means formal object. As we pointed out in the chapter on sensitive life, the basic Aristotelian text on the distinction of objects occurs in De Anima,1 where Aristotle notes three kinds relative to potencies. These are: First, the proper object, which is what the potency appre­ hends immediately and through itself, primo et per se, as the accepted phrase has it. For sight, to mention an example or (wo, this is color, and for hearing, sound. With respect to this object, it may be remembered, a potency cannot err, at least II the conditions of perception are normal. Secondly, the common object, which on the sense level includes several different objects known by more than one potency. Thus, according to Aristotle movement, rest, number, shape, and size constitute a general group of objects known as I he common sensibles. Since man has but one intellectual faculty, we cannot speak of a common object on the intellectual level except in regard to the various degrees of intellect as a whole, namely, the divine, the angelic, and the human. Thirdly, the incidental {per accidens) object, which is appo hended only indirectly by a given potency. Strictly speaking, I his object is not perceived by the potency at all, but merely atI h lies to its proper object. To illustrate, it is incidental to my sip,lit that the white object approaching is the son of my brother. Concerning intellect, moreover, we must in addition to its pmper object take account of its adequate or extensive object. The latter denotes everything this faculty can attain, including, therefore, certain things that are not comprised, or at best mily incompletely and imperfectly, in its proper object. Prac­ tically speaking, the adequate object is the common object .... idered as answering to the ultimate capacity of a given inlcllect. More of this in the sequel. I 1II, 6. io6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology b) Our plan of study of the object.—Since the Aristotelian theory of intellectual knowledge takes the form, largely, of a reaction against the excessive intellectualism of the theory of ideas, we shall consider, first, the empirical leaning of this re­ action. We shall then be in a position to define the proper ob­ ject of the intellect as the quiddity (quidditas) of sensible things (I below). But this return to a more moderate and more concrete intel­ lectualism poses a new problem. If the intellect finds its proper object in the corporeal world, are we to say that it is prevented from knowing all that lies beyond this world, such as the pure spirits and God? If, notwithstanding, we hold that it can come to know these higher realities, we must explain how this is possible. Here, then, is the place for a more complete analysis of the ad< quale, in contrast to the proper, object of the human intellect (II below). Next, assuming that the human intellect can rise above the world of nature, what limits, if any, must be assigned to its capacity? Al the summit of the totality of things, we find the supreme ml< lligiblc, the divine essence. Can a created intellect have an immediate apprehension of this object? If so, how is its capacity loi the divine to be construed? This question, you see, brings up the special problem of the beatific vision, which, to be sure, is puin.nily the concern of the theologian; but the philosopher, too. will find it to his advantage to consider cer­ tain aspects of the matter (III below). I. THE PROPER OBJECT OF THE HUMAN INTELLECT i. St. Thomas’ Critique of Earlier Theories The best way to aiiivc it the definition of the proper object of the human intellect is Io follow the successive steps by which St. Thomas comes Io the determination of it through a series The Object of Human Intellect 107 of eight articles in the Summa.2 The general question St. 'Hiomas seeks to answer in these articles is how the soul, in its state of union with the body, understands corporeal things. a) The soul knows corporeal things through its intellect.1— In the first article St. Thomas presents a general analysis of I he Platonic theory of knowledge. Among other things, Plato sought to refute Heraclitus, who, believing that all knowledge was of sense, and all sensible things in a constant flux, had denied the possibility of certain and abiding truth in knowledge. It was to avoid the sensism and, to use a modern label for an old idea, the phenomenonalism of Heraclitus that Plato declared the unchanging and separate realities of another world the only possible objects of science properly speaking. The consequence was that intellectual knowledge had no connection with things perceived by sense. But, says St. Thomas, such a view is impos­ sible on two counts: first, because it would rule out all science or certain knowledge of nature, that is, of mobile and material being; and secondly, it involves the absurd notion that to ex­ plain things that are manifest to us we should resort to things I hat are essentially different from them. Plato’s error, remarks St. Thomas, is due to his failure to understand that things do not exist in the same way in the mind as in reality. In the mind I hey are universal and immaterial; in reality, particular and ma­ terial. b) The soul does not know corporeal things through its own *essence —St. Thomas is resolute on this point, opposing all other suggestions. In other words, we do not know corporeal things simply in knowing ourselves, as God knows all things tn His own essence. The natural philosophers of early antiquity h id given a materialist twist to the principle that like is known by like; external fire, for example, being known by the fire of * Summa theol., la, q. 84, aa.1-8. • Ibid., a. 1. 4 Ibid., a. 2. io8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology which the soul is constituted, and so on in regard to air and water and the other elements. Here was a crude version, in­ deed, of the theory that like is known by like. But such an ex­ planation cannot stand because, among other reasons, when things are known they exist in the soul, not materially, but im­ materially. The truth is that God alone knows all things through His essence, per essentiam; lesser intellects, both human and an­ gelic, know them only through a similitude or likeness, per similitudinem. c) The soul does not know things through innate or infused ideas.5—It is conceivable that the species or similitudes which the soul must have in order to know things other than itself should have been implanted from the beginning as a natural endowment. Such a proposal, however, must also be rejected. If it were (rue, wc ought to be always knowing these things ac­ tually, a supposition that is plainly not so. Plato’s contention that the species 01 forms are always present in the soul but not always in act because of the body’s obstruction, merely adds another difficulty. Il would not be easy to explain why a union intended by nature (that of body and soul) should be a natural hindrance l<> an activity that is similarly grounded in nature, namely, the knowing of the species allegedly present by nature. d) The soul does not know through species received from separate forms 01 * intelligences. —Here again it is the Platonic theory that comes in for criticism, this time, however, as amended by Avicenna This Moslem philosopher felt that the notion of separate and subsistent forms could not be logically sustained. Instead, he said, the forms or species of things pre­ exist in higher intelligences, from the first of which they arc communicated to the second, and so on until they reach the last intelligence, < all< d agent intellect. From the agent intellect they are introduced, al the proper moment, to the possible or s Ibid., a. 3. • Ibid., a. 4. The Object of Human Intellect 109 knowing intellect of man. This granted, the difficulties relating to the separate existence of ideas are indeed done away with, but only at the expense of further difficulties. One of the main objections raised by St. Thomas against this revised version of Plato’s theory is that it leaves no adequate reason for the union of body and soul. According to St. Thomas, the principal reason for the soul being united to a body is to receive through the body the sensible species or likenesses of things from which I he intellect can derive the intelligible species that it must have to know. If we deny this, its principal function, to the body, there would seem to be no further reason for its existence at hI1.t <•) In what sense the soul knows things through the “eternal reasons” in God.g—In the article dealing with this point St. Thomas declares himself on the Augustinian adaptation of Plato’s doctrine. All the objections against the separate existence of ideas are nullified by one stroke, as it were, if with St. Augusline we place them in the mind of God. Avicenna, we saw, fol­ lowed a comparable course, allocating them to subsistent iulelligences. St. Thomas agrees with the Augustinian transposi­ tion of the ideas. But the question still remains whether, as St. Augustine suggests, we know things through these “reasons” Ot ideas in the mind of God, which are the eternal prototypes ol dl things actual and possible. 11 is by making a necessary distinction that St. Thomas finds II possible to agree with St. Augustine without prejudice to his liwn position. To know something through or “in another,” br says, can mean two things. It can mean to know it in another ih hi an object itself known. In this way the soul at present docs Bol I now things in the eternal reasons of God. “In another” inn also mean “in a principle of knowledge,” as we may say I ' ( I Text XII, “The Separated Soul’s Knowledge”: b) Theory of Bvi< rnna, p. 280. ■ • SuiHind theol., la, q.84, a. 5. no Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology that we see what we see by the light of the sun. In this way the soul knows all things in the eternal reasons or ideas of God, because its intellectual light is a certain participated likeness of God’s uncreated light, in which are contained the eternal reasons or ideas. With that, St. Thomas and St. Augustine are reconciled. But the basic Aristotelian and Thomistic premise stands: Before we can actually know we still need to derive our intelligible species from sensible things. f) Conclusion: Our intellectual knowledge is derived from sensible things.9—Since both the Platonic theory and the sensism of Democritus run up against all sorts of irresoluble contradictions, the only logical course is the middle way, the via media, of Aristotle, in which sense knowledge is the basis and starting point for intellectual knowledge. All our intellectual knowledge begins with the senses. From this premise we must sooner or later reach the conclusion that the proper ob­ ject of this knowledge is the nature or “quiddity” of sensible things. We cannot here review in detail all that St. Thomas has to say on this topic in the articles summarized above, but the student would do well to examine them at greater length. Most rewarding to him would be, for example, the further study of the articles in which St. Thomas, with characteristic insight, shows how intimately our two ways of knowing, sense and intellect, are related by pointing out that the intellect cannot know without turning to the phantasm and that any obstacle to sense causes a corresponding obstacle to intellect. It is only by attenfive search and examination that one can appreciate the wealth of experience and the. earnest reflection underlying St. Thomas’ doctrine on the matter at hand. Above all, the student should not be deceived or deterred by first impressions. It would be a great mistake to make little of this or any other teaching oí 9 Ibid., aa.6, 7, 8. 10 Ibid., aa.7, 8. I I | I | I 1 I I I I I 1 The Object of Human Intellect 111 St. Thomas and our former masters in general just because we 11 nd their style sometimes dry and elliptical, and their thought not always easy to follow.11 2. Definition of the Proper Object of the Human Intellect a) The nature of this proper object.—The immediately pre ceding analysis brought us to the conclusion that the proper object of the human intellect in its state of union with the body r. the quiddity or nature existing in a corporeal thing: intellectus autem humani qui est conjunctum corpori proprium objectum est quidditas, sive natura, in materia corporali existens.12 TTiis doctrine is repeated in countless places in the writings of St. Thomas. In the Commentary on De Anima, for example, we find him saying that “the proper object of the intellect is the quiddity of a thing, but this quiddity is not separate from I longs, as the Platonists supposed.” ls A further example is the lollowing one from the Summa: “The object of our intellect in ¡Is present state is the quiddity of a material thing.” 14 Since terms like “quiddity” and “nature” have various connolations in the vernacular, one of our first tasks is to clear up I Ik- meaning they have in the present context. Etymologically, quiddity (Latin: quidditas) denotes the idea we have in mind when we reply to the question, what is it? or, simply, what? II ilin: quid). This idea is the quiddity or quidditas. The quid dily, then, means the inner nature of a thing, its essence, or lh.it by which it is the sort of thing it is. The senses, it will be i< membered, can perceive only the external accidents <>l a , " Cf. Text VI, “The Human Intellect Is an Abstractive Faculty,” p. 253. I "Summa theol., la, q.84, a.7. " In III De Anima, lect. 8, no. 717. u Summa theol., la, q.85, a. 8. 112 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology thing, but the intellect can reach to its very being or nature. It is true, of course, and worth noting, that the intellect can also conceive the properties and accidents and appearances of things as essences or essentially, that is, in the manner of quiddities. But the immediate and primary function of the intellect is to apprehend the essences of things. Furthermore, the quiddity that constitutes the proper object of the human intellect is the abstract nature of a thing, which means the nature considered apart from all those conditions by which it exists as singular and individual. As St. Thomas notes, it is proper to I lie human intellect to “know a form existing individually in corporeal matter, but not as existing in this in­ dividual mal ter. But to know what is in individual matter, not as existing in such a matter, is to abstract the form from the individual mailer which is represented by the phantasms.” 16 b) Com/xn/soii with the proper object of other intellects.— Considerable light is shed on this matter by comparing the propei object oí the human intellect with that of other faculties ol knowledge, win lhei sensory or spiritual. St. Thomas does so in more than one place.1* At lhe lowest level is sense, a faculty bound to a bodily organ. Its piopi'i iil>|crl i lhe form as existing in corporeal mattci “forma prout in materia corporali existit.” Next in mdci is the human intellect, a faculty not bound to any bodily oigan II. object, we have said, is the form existing, in corporeal mallei, but not as it exists in such matter: “forma in materia quidem <l every other, because the intellect as such is the faculty of being. I») Nevertheless, what is contained in the proper object is 114 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology not apprehended in the same manner by the intellect as what lies beyond.—Here we encounter something of a difficulty. What, we ask, is the good of affirming a special object in re­ gard to our intellect when, in fact, it is capable of going beyond this object? The answer is that only the quiddity of sensible things is apprehended directly and in its specific nature. Other things are apprehended only secondarily, that is, indirectly or through the medium of the proper object. If, like the singular, they are grasped in conjunction with the proper object, we say they are known indirectly; if, like transcendent or spiritual realities, they arc not conjoined to the proper object, they are known comparatively or by analogy. Accordingly, even though all being is accessible to the hu­ man intellect, its activity is specified in the first instance by the knowledge of material essences. Immaterial beings must be con­ ceived by analogy with the concepts we form of bodily beings. Doubtless, this latter circumstance puts our intellect at a cer­ tain disadvantage What it means, as St. Thomas likes to re­ peat, is that the human intellect occupies the lowest rank in the scale of intellect. c) Corollary the unity of the intellectual faculty.—Because its scop< r. milimih d, the intellect, unlike sense, is not divided into scveial polemics Its notion of being includes and com mauds all possible distinctions of object. If, nevertheless, we speak of certain distinctions in regard to the intellect, these terms do not imply a real diversity of potencies. Thus, reason (dr.< msivc intellect) is not really distinct from intellect (intuitive intellect). Tire former is to the latter as movement to rest. Both operations are acts of the same po­ tency.17 Also, the practical intellect (the faculty governing practical life or action) is not really distinct from the speculative intellect (the faculty of pure knowledge, or knowledge for its own sake). Tin . 17 Cf. Summa theol., In, <|.79, a. 8. The Object of Human Intellect 115 is no more than an accidental distinction; for, it is accidental to the object apprehended by the intellect to be translated into action. But what is accidentally related to the object of a potency is not sufficient ground for diversifying the potency.18 It is on this same principle that St. Thomas does not hold intellectual memory to be really distinct from intellect proper. The formality of past as past (ratio praeteriti), the distinctive mark of memory, is an accidental qualification as far as the ob­ ject of the intellect is concerned. As for the conservation and reproduction of species, which are also conditions of memory, St. Thomas takes the view that the intellect as a single potency can account for these additional functions.1’ The only real distinction in this connection is that of active and passive intellect, a distinction, however, not based on the object, but on a difference of disposition in the potency. The active principle in the production of the intelligible species is the agent intellect; it actualizes the possible or knowing intel­ lect, which, from this point of view, is passive.20 III. THE HUMAN INTELLECT AND THE VISION OF GOD i. Presentation of the Problem a) Is it possible to see God?—All being, we have said, is accessible to the human intellect. But does this mean that it < an have a direct and immediate knowledge of the divine be­ ing? Any obstacle to such knowledge certainly would not be on I he side of God, since the divine being is perfectly in act and hence utterly intelligible. The limitation, if any, must lie in our intellect. Between every potency and its object must exist .1 certain proportion; but in the present case the object is un-11 11 Cf. ibid., a. 11. 1 " Cf. ibid., a. 6. 10 Cf. ibid., a. 7. 116 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology questionably infinite, and the potency a created entity and therefore manifestly finite. St. Thomas states the difficulty in the form of an objection. “There must be some proportion,” so goes the argument, “between the knower and the known, since die known is the perfection of the knower. But no proportion exists between the created intellect and God; for there is an infinite distance between them. Therefore the created intel­ lect cannot see the essence of God.” 11 In principle, to be sure, there is no reason why a finite in­ tellect should not be able to acquire some measure of knowl­ edge about God’s essence by reasoning from created effects to their cause; bul what would seem to be altogether beyond the capacity of such an intellect is that it should have an immediate and direct apprehension of this essence, so as to see God face to face, as I he phrase lias it. Yet the Christian faith unequivo­ cally declares that such a vision is the very end and purpose of human life. Our problem, therefore, centers around the possi­ bility of see ing I he divine essence, a problem that is primarily theological bul also concerns the philosopher, at least to the extent of 1 defined by them; and so it is not correct to say that the human intellect is formally the faculty of the divine. God is mil -.l 1 ii lu 1 < formas universales a conditionibus particularibus, quod esi luno .0 l• SI Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, Pars IV, q.6, .1 ijó Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology tellect is a passive potency, it must be reduced to act. This actualization, as we know, is brought about by the conjoint operation of the agent intellect and the phantasm, the one acting as principal, the other as instrumental cause. The first effect of this combined action is to modify the knowing faculty entitatively by producing in it a real accidental determination, which is the species considered entitatively. Besides this, there has to be a second determination, one of the intentional order, the effect of which is to actualize the intellect with respect to its intentional potency. Only then, strictly speaking, can the act of knowledge take place. Once the intellect is actualized by the species in both orders, entitative and intentional, it itself elicits the act of knowledge, and in this respect it is not passive but active. The second, that is, intentional determination or informa­ tion may 01 may not follow on the first, the entitative. When, for example, the intellect ceases to think about an object, the lath a is no longei intelligibly or intentionally present; never­ theless, it retains its entitative presence in the manner of a “habitus." On the strength of this abiding entitative presence, the intellect < an subsequently elicit the same act of knowl­ edge whcnevci it again receives the corresponding intentional determinat ion ...... donnation. Here, in the entitative survival of the species, Iks the explanation for the possibility of pass­ ing repeatedly hom the latent or un-thought idea to the actually-thought idea; which, in a word, is the meaning of intel­ lectual memory. c) The role of the species in the act of the intellect.—We have already noted that as soon as the possible intellect is in­ formed by the spec ies, it is ready to move from potency to act. This transition is brought about by the activity of the faculty itself once it is objectively, that is, intentionally determined or disposed to its act by the species. Like every action, the act of the intellect presupposes a potency and a form. In the case The Object of Human Intellect 137 at hand, the potency is naturally present in the soul and the form is simply the received species. With that, the condi I ions for the act of knowledge are fulfilled. In this connection, also, we ought to point out, at least in passing, that the species or form (of the object) received by lhe intellect is not at all that which is known, quod cognoscitur, but only that by which the knower knows, quo cognoscitur." What is directly apprehended is the object or thing itself. The species, which is the initial or preparatory phase in the process of knowledge, is not known directly, but only secondarily through an act of reflection. We shall have more to say on this particular topic when dealing with the mental word.46 d) The species as a likeness of the object.—Even though, as we have insisted, the species is not the object that is known directly, we must not conclude that it has no connection with this object. On the contrary, the very function of the species is to unite the object with the intellect, causing it to be present in the intellect. The species performs this role by being a likeness of the object. Being like the object, it can take its place in the mind. The source, it may be recalled, for this general notion of species as likeness or similitude is Empedo­ cles, with his doctrine that like is known by like. He was wrong, however, in thinking that the likeness in question had to be understood as a physical facsimile. Instead, it should be con­ ceived as a reproduction of the intentional order, for the mode of existence in the mind is not the same as in reality. Furthermore, it is important to keep in mind that the like iicss of the thing is not necessarily a complete and exhaustive r<‘ presentation, but admits of degrees of reproduction. Indeed, lhe human intellect, as we shall have more than one oc< .c.ion Io repeat, does not at first glance or, to change the mctiplioi. by one stroke cut clear through the surface of a thing, Io have, 4,1 Cf. Summa theol., la, q.85, a.2. 4,1 Cf. Text VIII, “The Role of the Species in Intellection,” p. :<>(> 138 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology as it were, a full view of its real essence on the spot. At the outset it perceives the essence rather vaguely, through the medium of very general concepts; for, the first likenesses or species represent the object mostly in its very common aspects. The real work of the intellect consists, precisely, in evermore determining and defining the general content of these, our primitive concepts. + CHAPTER 7 Tke Affinity of the InteUeff and the Growth of Intelleffual Knowledg Part One: The Activity of the Intellect + BESIDES the two already-explained factors entering into intellectual activity and forming its groundwork, namely, I he proper object and the formation of the intelligible species, SI. Thomas enumerates two other integral elements of this .«livity. These are understanding or intellection {intelli itere) mid the interior conception of the intellect {conceptio intel lectus), in which the intellect contemplates its object. 'One who understands,” writes St. Thomas, “may have a relation to loin things in understanding: namely to the tliiiir. tindei llood, to the intelligible species whereby his intelli/'ciuc is x39 140 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology made actual, to his act of understanding, and to his intellec­ tual concept.” 1 Accordingly, we shall have to consider these two additional elements, that is, intellection itself and the conception or mental word of the intellect. Then, coming back for a moment to the phantasm, which lies at the origin of intellectual activity, we shall have to explain that this activity always implies a ref­ erence or return to the sensible object. In dealing with this whole question of intellectual activity, moreover, St. Thomas himself, more often than not, comes to it by way of interpret­ ing a theological doctrine, notably that of the divine genera­ tion of the Word, the result being that his discussion generally speaking goes beyond Aristotle. Our presentation of the matter, therefore, will be along the lines of these larger developments in St. Thomas.’ I. INTELLECTION a) Intellection is the ultimate perfection of the subject.— Accoiding Io Aiislotle, it is characteristic of physical activity to ]> r . in souk way from the agent to the exterior thing, with the cilccl of producing a change in the latter. But we know, from what lias been said about intellect, that in intellectual activity the situation is not at all the same. The higher one goes in the s< ale ol living beings, the more one finds an inner­ ness of activity, and I he less the subject has recourse and refer­ ence to things outside. What this means is that the higher a12 1 “Intellectus autem in intelligendo ad quatuor potest habere ordinem: scilicet ad rem quae nilcllir.ilnr, ad speciem intelligibilem, qua fit intellectus in actu, ad suum inlcllir.1 c* nd conceptionem intellectus” (De Pot., q. 8, a. 1). 2 Our principal icl<-i< i" * •. will be to the following texts of St. Thomas: Contra Gentiles, I 55; De Potentia, q.8, a.i; q.9, aa.5, 9; De Veritate, q.4, a.2; Summa theol<'f.i‘i‘', la, q.14, a.4; q.27, a.i; q.34, aa.i, 2. As for the commentators, consult in particular John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, IV Pars, q-,l> 2; cd. Reiser, III, 3448- The Activity of the Intellect 141 being is in the scale of life, the more it advances from transitive activity to immanent activity, of which certainly, intellectual knowledge is the most perfect instance. It follows, then, that in intellection or intellectual knowl­ edge, what is changed is not the exterior thing but the know­ ing subject himself. On several occasions St. Thomas points out that this modification of the knowing subject may be com­ pared to the receiving of existence (esse) in a concrete essence. “To understand,” he says in explaining this particular item, “is not an act passing to anything extrinsic; for it re­ mains in the operator as his own act and perfection, as existence is the perfection of the one existing: just as existence follows on the form, so in like manner to understand follows on the intelligible species.” * Thus, as in the order of being the “esse” represents the ultimate perfection of a thing, so, in a similar way, does in­ tellection (intelligere') in the order of knowledge and, more generally, in the order of activity. Moreover, the perfection inherent in intellection is, as already indicated, an immanent one, which means that it is appointed for the good of the subject and does not produce an outside effect, being so to speak its own term. We have here simply to do with some­ thing ultimate, an ultimate term. b) Intellection is an action in the predicament of quality.— In discussing the special character of intellection, John of St. Thomas, who has a knack for getting things properly classi fled, goes to some length showing that intellectual activity belongs to the predicament of quality.4 Intellection, he observes, • “Intelligere non est actio progrediens ad aliquid extrinsecum, sed main t in operante sicut actus et perfectio ejus, prout esse est perfectio cxislmlr,, sicut enim esse consequitur formam, ita intelligere sequitur specum m lelligibilem” (Summa theol., Ia, q. 14, a.4). Cf. also ibid., q.34, a 1 ini 2; John of St. Thomas, op. cit., q.11, a.i, Dico ultimo (ed. Rcim-i, III. 350 f.). *Op. cit., IV Pars, q. 11, a.i, Dico secundo; ed. Reiser, III, ;.|6 II i42 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology denotes a certain kind of action; but action strictly speaking implies a corresponding passion or a being-acted-on in another subject (patient), which undergoes a change from the action. This condition, however, does not exist in intellection, since the change it produces is all in the agent or knower. As we have said, intellection, considered precisely as action, does not act upon another, and so does not have an outside effect. Briefly, because it is wholly a disposition of the agent or faculty, intellection cannot be placed in the predicament of action proper but must be referred to the predicament of quality. Our main interest in this particular point is that it serves to emphasize the difference between cognitive activity, which is the perfect example of immanent action, and physical or transitive action. In other words, to act is something far differ­ ent for a spirit and a material thing. Many unnecessary diffi­ culties incident Io the study of knowledge arise from the failure to heed this elementary truth, if not indeed truism. c) Intellei lion is virtually productive of an exterior term, the mental word -Wc have said that intellection is an imma­ nent activity, producing no outside effect. Still, matters are not quite so simple as wc have depicted them. As understood by St. Thom as. intellection does in fact produce some sort of term or <0/ Knowledge [New York: Scribner’s, 1938] pp. 144-155, which, howcvei, altogether omits Appendix I as well as the others); M. D. Roland Cora tin, Rev. Sc. Phil, et Théol., 1925, pp. 200 ff.; F. A. Blanche, Bull. Thom., 1925, PP- 361 ff. The Activity of the Intellect 149 b) The texts of St. Thomas.—On first reading the texts in which St. Thomas expresses himself on the immediate appre­ hension of the intellect, there would seem to be no hope of reducing them to a consistent statement. We find, on the one hand, a series of texts that are unequivocally on the side of immediate realism, and, on the other hand, another group that are just as categorically to the contrary, affirming that the mental word itself is the term or direct object of knowl­ edge. In support of immediate realism there is, for example, the perfectly clear presentation in the Prima Pars,11 where St. Thomas declares that what is directly known is the thing itself and not the species, which is only known on reflection: quod cognoscitur est res. Other passages are even more explicit, as this one from the Contra Gentiles: “That this same intelligi­ ble species is not the thing which we understand, is evident from the fact that to understand a thing is quite distinct from understanding its intelligible species; and the intellect does this when it reflects on its action.” 12 According to this passage it is perfectly plain that the “intelligible intention,” the mental word, is apprehended only in an act of reflection, and that the thing alone is known directly. Other texts, unfortunately, seem to say just the opposite. Thus, in De Potentia St. Thomas asserts that “that which is un­ derstood in itself {per se) is not the thing that is known by the intellect, . . . [but] the first and direct {primo et per se) object in the act of understanding is something that the inl< I lect conceives within itself about the thing understood.” 11 11 Summa theol., la, q.85, a.2. 12 “Quod praedicta intentio non sit in nobis res intellecta, indr uppun 1 quod aliud est intelligere rem et aliud est intelligere ipsam inlcuiioir m intellectam, quod intellectus facit dum super suum opus reflectilm” (< mi/m Gentiles, IV, 11). 13 “Id autem quod est per se intellectum non est res illa ....... ■, uuiih i per intellectum habetur, . . . Hoc ergo est primo et per w int ■, 1 15° Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology In between these seemingly contradictory passages we find some, moreover, that appear to be aimed at reconciling the others, as the following one from De Veritate: “The intellectual conception is a medium between the intellect and the thing known, because through its mediation the intellectual opera­ tion attains the thing. Hence, the intellectual conception is not only that which is understood (id quod intellectum est) but also that by which the thing is understood (id quo res intelligitur). Consequently, that which is understood can be said to be both the tiling itself as well as an intellectual conception (sic quod intelligitur possit dici et res ipsa et conceptio in­ tellectus)." 14 Again, “The word,” so reads another passage, “is compared to I he intellect not as that by which it appre­ hends ils object (j< ( I of knowledge was the modification or impression .....lu< cd in the knowing subject. Naturally, then, what one would stress in presenting the Aristotelian 14 “Conceptio inlcllo to-. <-.l media inter intellectum et rem intellectam, quia ea mediante opci.ili...... Iclleclus pertingit ad rem. Et ideo conceptio intellectus non solum o.I ul quod intellectum est, sed etiam id quo res intelligitur; ut sic id quod ml el I igitur, possit dici et res ipsa, et conceptio intellectus” (De 'Veril., q |, n a ad 3). 16 Comment, in Joan ., c. 1. The Activity of the Intellect 151 llicory of knowledge is the immediacy or directness of knowl­ edge. In speaking as a theologian, on the other hand, one would want to show that there is a term interior to thought, and so be led to emphasize the quality of immanence found in the act of knowledge. With this in mind, it may not be too bold to suggest that in expressing himself on the matter in question St. Thomas simply did not take the trouble to call attention to the con­ text of his assertions in every instance, being more intent on building up his case in one or the other direction as the occa­ sion demanded. Accordingly, the texts that are most truly representative of his thought, and which ought therefore to be given priority, are those in which both aspects of knowledge, that is, both its immanence and its immediacy with the ex­ terior thing, are set forth. All in all, then, provided that we know how to interpret the statement, it is quite correct to say that what is apprehended by the intellect is both the thing itself and the conception of the intellect: et ipsa res et con­ ceptio intellectus. Consequently, the mental word can be both what is understood, quod intellectum est, and that by which understanding takes place, quo intelligitur. It is indeed a term, but only a relative one; the ultimate or absolute term is the thing itself.16 d) The mental word as a formal sign.—Sometimes the men­ ial word is further explained as a sign, a development which, apparently, should be accredited to John of St. Thomas.” So understood, the interior conception of the mind is a sign of the thing that it represents. Note well, however, that there arc two kinds of signs, one instrumental, the other formal The proper characteristic of the instrumental sign is to conduct the mind to something other than what is immediately pm l ived, u1 Cf. Text VIII, “The Role of the Species in Intellection,’’ ;> .•<><> 17 Cf. Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, Log., Pars Ila, q.za, 1111 1, 1; ed. Reiser, I, 693 ff. 1^2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology that is, to something other than the sign itself: quod praeter species quas ingerit sensui, aliud facit in cognitionem venire. Thus, where I see smoke, I conclude there is fire, which is something other than the smoke itself. The formal sign also leads to the knowledge of something other than itself, but in such a way as to produce this knowledge within itself and in a direct manner, without an intermediate step of the mind. In this case the apprehension of the sign, and of the thing signified, are simultaneous. There is no doubt that if the mental word is a sign, it has to be a formal one. Unlike the instrumental sign, the mental word is not something that is known first, and then leads us to the knowledge of another thing. Instead, it is something in which another thing is directly and immediately understood. Applied to the intellect, this interpretation means that even though the nature 01 essence of the exterior object is apprehended in and through a te rm immanent to the mind, it is nevertheless ap­ prehended immediately. We s< c, then, that the doctrine of formal sign preserves the simultaneity ol the two aspects of intellectual knowledge which can be scpaialcd only at the expense of the objective validity of this knowledge These two aspects are its immanence or interiorness, and its immediacy with the nature of the external thing. Without immediacy we cannot avoid the breakdown of knowledge which is inherent in every allegedly mediate real­ ism, according Io whii h the mental image is installed, portrait­ like, as the immediate object of knowledge. Not less important is it, however, to nr.r.l on the immanent character of knowl­ edge, for without tin . .r,pc cl we become entangled in the sort of immediacy that < nmol distinguish between entitative and intentional union, thus making no sense whatever. 5. Synoptic View of the Act of the Intellect The integral act of the human intellect involves, as we have said, four elements tin faculty itself, the intelligible species The Activity of the Intellect 153 that actualizes the faculty, intellection or understanding, and the mental word. These several elements are not arbitrarily as­ serted; they are requirements imposed by the metaphysical principles underlying activity in general and intellectual ac­ tivity in particular. Still, it ought to be borne in mind that to analyze something is not necessarily to dismember its reality. Despite the number of principles or factors of which it is constituted, the act of knowledge bears a real unity; in fact, what strikes us most at first glance is not its manifold charac­ ter, but its basic unity. By way of conclusion to this particular heading on intellectual activity, we shall therefore quote at some length a chapter from the Contra Gentiles to which we have already referred and which contains an excellent, over-all account of the process of intellectual activity, both describing the steps of the process and intimating the real continuity from the first to the last: The external objects which we understand do not exist in our in­ tellect according to their own nature, but it is necessary that our intellect contain their species whereby it becomes intellect in act. And being in act by this species as by its proper form, it under­ stands the object itself. And yet the act of understanding is not an act passing into the thing understood, as heating passes into the object heated, but it remains in the one who understands, yet bears a relation to the object understood, for the very reason that the aforesaid species, which is the formal principle of intellectual opera tion, is the image (similitudo) of that object. It must furthermore be observed that the intellect informed by the species of the object, by understanding produces in itself a kind of intention of the object understood, which intention is the miliiir (ratio) of the object as expressed in its definition. This indeed r, necessary, since the intellect understands indifferently a thing nl> sent or present, and in this point agrees with the imaginai..... y. 1 the intellect has this besides, that it understands a thing as puiule from material conditions, without which it does not exisl in i< alily, and this is impossible unless the intellect forms for ¡1st II 1 li< ilm. said intention. 154 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology Now this understood intention, since it is the term, so to speak, of the intellectual operation, is distinct from the intelligible species which makes the intellect in act, and which we must look upon as the principle of the intellectual operation, albeit each is an image of the object understood: since it is because the intelligible species, which is the form of the intellect and the principle of understand­ ing, is the image (similitudo) of the external object, that the in­ tellect in consequence forms an intention like that object: for such as a thing is, such is the effect of its operation. And since the under­ stood intention bears the likeness of a thing (est similis alicui rei), it follows that the intellect by forming this intention understands that thing.18 III. rill'. RETURN TO THE PHANTASMS The starling point of intellectual knowledge, whose process wc have just analyzed, lies in sense knowledge, or, to be more specific, in the phantasms. According to St. Thomas, phantasms or images aie tumid not only at the beginning of the intel­ in Inal pun i . but also at its term, where they serve as a link between the intellect and the external object. Consequently, both in aiqiming new knowledge and in considering knowl­ edge ,di> ady possessed, the intellect cannot apprehend anything except by .. ...... g Io the phantasms: nisi convertendo se ad phantasmala fin-. "< onvcision” or turning to the phantasm is not the same thin;', a. tin intellect’s initial access to the sensi­ ble specie', in indi i to abstract the intelligible species; hence it denotes souk I lung, nioie than the mere fact that knowledge by the intellect !>< gms m the sensible. We shall have occasion to speak of tin n.ilinc of this return to the phantasm in the second part of the present chapter, specifically in our discus­ sion of the knowledge of the singular. At the moment, we are only concerned with tin tact of this “conversion.” 18 18 Contra Gentiles, I. i, ( 19 On this point sec Summa theol., la, q.84, aa.7, 8; q.86, a.i; q.89, a.i; Cajetan, In lam Pail , <| K.|, a.7; John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philo­ sophicus, IV Pars, q.io, ,| (n.r.ci, III, jzzff.j. The Activity of the Intellect 155 a) Proof from experience.—In the principal text on this point, which occurs in the Summa,20 St. Thomas appeals first of all to experience. Two facts serve to prove that the intellect must return to the phantasm in order to know. The first is that the activity of the intellect breaks down, in part or altogether, when certain corporeal structures sustain injury, depending on the nature and extent of the damage. Since, on the other hand, the intellect itself does not make use of a corporeal organ, the obstruction in question must reside in the sensory processes that are required for intellectual knowledge. So, for example, when the imagination fails, intellectual knowledge becomes impossible. The second fact of experience is perhaps even more imme­ diately convincing. The gist of it is that whenever we try to understand something, we naturally form and turn to certain images in which to inspect, as it were, what we are aiming to grasp intellectually. As St. Thomas has it: “Anyone can ex­ perience this of himself, that when he tries to understand some­ thing, he will form certain phantasms to serve him by way of examples, in which as it were he examines what he is desirous of understanding.” 21 b) Proof from deductive reason.—The preceding facts can be verified on a priori grounds as well, inasmuch as the return of the phantasm is enforced by the very conditions surrounding the proper object of the human intellect. This object is the quiddity or nature of sensible things, which nature exists only in the singular, that is, in corporeal matter. The nature oí a stone, for example, is such as to exist in this particula 1 '.lone. Consequently, the nature of a stone or any material thing whatever cannot be known “completely” and “truly” unitit be understood as existing in the individual. The individual, however, is apprehended only by the senses or in the phantasms; 20 la, q.84, a.7. Ibid. i$6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology and so for the intellect to come to know its proper object, it must of necessity turn to the phantasm, there to behold the universal nature existing in the individual. St. Thomas puts the argument as follows: The proper object of the human intellect, which is united to a body, is a quiddity or nature existing in corporeal matter. . . . Now it belongs to such a nature to exist in an individual, and this cannot be apart from corporeal matter; for instance, it belongs to the nature of a stone to be in an individual stone, and to the nature of a horse to be in an individual horse, and so forth. Wherefore the nature of a stone or any maIerial thing cannot be known completely and truly (complete et vere) except inasmuch as it is known as existing in the individual. Now we apprehend the individual through the senses and the imagination. And, therefore, for the intellect to understand actually ils pmpi > object, it must of necessity turn to the phantasms in order to peiccivc I he universal nature existing in the individual.22 c) Conclusion: the continuity between operations of the in­ tellect and the imagination, or of intellectual and sense knowl­ edge in general.—The doctrine of return to the phantasms clearly indícales that Thomistic philosophy, while uncompro­ mising in .dinining the essential and irreducible distinction between inh ll< < lti.il and sensory knowledge, is not less em­ phatic in its opposition to isolating and insulating these two forms of knowledge lioin cadi other. Evidence of this fact, if evi­ dence were needed, is that the Thomistic doctrine of knowl­ edge insists on the pie.encc of the image both at the beginning of the intellectual pioccss, where it serves as material for the intellect to woik on, and al the end of the process, where it preserves the continuity bel ween the intellect and its object. Indirectly, then, I lie singular can become the object of knowl­ edge for our intellect, and since our practical life deals with the concrete, the inlcllci I lias constantly to refer to the singu­ lar. Though initially and essentially the faculty of the abstract 22 Summa theol., la, 11.7. The Activity of the Intellect 157 and the universal, the intellect thus emerges as the faculty of the concrete individual as well. These facts make for a psychol­ ogy rich both in depth and complexity; and if all too often it is paraded forth in nothing more than threadbare formulas that make it appear simple, one need hardly be reminded that ap­ pearances may not be reality. More than one learner, if not teacher, has been taken unaware by this apparent simplicity. Part Two: The Growth of Intellectual Knowledge The divine intellect, and also the angelic intellect with re­ spect to its proper object, attain by one stroke the complete and perfect possession of the knowledge to which they are proportioned. The human intellect, however, which is lowest and weakest in the scale, gains its perfect act or complete knowl­ edge, not at once but in progressive fashion. “Every power proceeding from potentiality to actuality,” writes St. Thomas, “comes first to an incomplete act, which is the medium be­ tween potentiality and actuality, before accomplishing the perfect act. The perfect act of the intellect is complete knowl­ edge, when the object is distinctly and determinately known; whereas the incomplete act is imperfect knowledge, when the object is known indistinctly, and as it were confusedly.” ” These remarks of St. Thomas, metaphysical and theoretical as they are, need no learned endorsement; they are simply borne out by every man’s experience regarding his intellect nal <11 deavors. Since, moreover, the problem of the growth of Innnan intellectual knowledge is too many-sided to be treated in lull here, we shall limit ourselves to unraveling certain dilln nlii< . connected with it, in the hope of throwing some li,".hl on the more important points involved. 11 Summa theol.. la, q. 85, a. 3. 158 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology I. THE INITIAL DATUM OF THE INTELLECT AND THE APPREHENSION OF THE ESSENCE a) The initial apprehension of the essence.—It is clear that the proper object of the human intellect, which is the quid­ dity of a sensible thing, must somehow be found in what this faculty grasps at first sight. St. Thomas indicates as much in a considerable body of texts. To the unsuspecting mind these texts might even give the impression that the essence is at the very first glance so apprehended as to be disclosed in its entirety. St. Thomas says, for example, that “the intellect reaches to the bare quiddity of the thing,”24 and that “the intellect can im­ mediately conceive the quiddity of the sensible thing.”26 Would it not seem, then, that we can comprehend at once and in full, say, what man is, or a horse, or any sensible thing? Nevertheless, taken literally and at face value, statements like the ones just quoted are so obviously contradicted by experi­ ence that it is impossible to regard them as the full and formal expression ol St. Thomas’ mind on the matter. Can anyone seriously propose that a mere glance is enough to discover the real and inmost nature of things around us? Besides, as is usually the case in su< h circumstances, there are other passages in which St. Thom e, -.peaks in a different vein altogether. “Sub­ stantial forms in themselves {per seipsas),” he states explicitly, “are unknown; but we come to know them by their proper accidents.” 20 Eb.cwhcie he argues that we do not know the essential différend -, oí things,27 and that our knowledge of the quiddity must b< I >y way of the accidents and the effects of 24 De Verit., q. io, n.6 ml ' 25 In Boet. de '¡'iinit.il' <| 6, a.3. 26 “Formae substmli.il' |« 1 m ipsas sunt ignotae; sed innotescunt nobis per accidentia propria" (De S/>iritualibus Creaturis, a.11 ad 3). 27 “Quia differentiae o 1.1 sunt nobis ignotae, quandoque utimur accidentibus vel effectibus loco eurum” (De Verit., q.4, a.i ad 3). The Activity of the Intellect 159 a thing.28 Such assertions would seem to be in clear disagree­ ment with the others we have cited. In the mind of St. Thomas, however, there is here no real, and no irreducible contradiction, since in one and the same article he himself declares both that the intellect in its first op­ eration apprehends the essence of things and that the substan­ tial forms are unknown.26 Clearly, then, there is need of examining more closely what it is that the human intellect really grasps in its first operation or apprehension. b) Priority of knowledge of the more universal.—St. Thomas himself provides the clue to the answer of the foregoing diffi­ culty, if difficulty it be. According to a well-founded principle of the Thomistic doctrine of knowledge, what the human in­ tellect first knows is the more universal or the more general, so that the course of human knowledge is from the more to the less universal.30 What this means is that our first apprehen­ sions are not of the specific essences but of the more general aspects of things, and therefore our primitive concepts are cor­ respondingly general. The more general notion “animal,” for example, is prior, that is, known antecedently to the less gen­ eral notion “man.” The same principle applies to all other objects of human knowledge. St. Thomas points out, moreover, that knowledge that is more general, is also more confused, which means lacking in distinctness and depth. Applying this principle to the first apprehension of the intel­ lect, we shall have to say that what is known of things in the first instance is indeed the essence, but under its most common aspect, namely, the aspect of being; the intellect merely knows its object as something that is. To put it somewhat differently —and this is equally fundamental in Aristotelian philosophy 28 “Nos autem quidditates rerum ex accidentibus et effectibus cognocimus” (Contra Gentiles, III, 91). 29 De Spirit. Creat., a. 11 ad 3, 7. 80 Cf. Summa theol., la, q.85, a. 3. i6o Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology —the first notion conceived by the intellect, and the one to which all others are reducible, is that of being,31 though not precisely being as formally conceived and defined by the meta­ physician, but as apprehended in its most common and least determined meaning. Briefly, in its first apprehension of things the human intellect knows them only indiscriminately as be­ ings. c) The progressive discovery of the essence.—Beginning with its first apprehension, the intellect advances step by step toward the further discovery of the object, pursuing its inquiry both in the order of essence and being. In the ordci of essence the intellect seeks to determine the specific differences of things, so as to determine their position in the scale of genera and species. The eventual goal of this search is the discovery of the specific nature that corresponds to the ultimate or complete definition of a thing, as, for in­ stance, the definition of man as an animal endowed with reason. In the onl< i of being, moreover, the intellect may continue to probe and Io elucidate the most universal determinations of the notion ol being,, such as the transcendental properties of unity and tnitli and goodness. This line of development is the work of metaphysics. All in all, then. Io keep this discussion to its main point— the complete disioveiy and determination of the essence by the intellect lies ovci tli.it long and difficult road beginning with its initially ill dt the thing. Proportionately speaking, therefore, by keeping, in mind the exact meaning in each case, the term “quiddilas sensibilis” or sensible quiddity can be applied to the appi< In h ¡ion of the intellect at both extremes of this road (as well as at all intermediate points), that is, both 31 “Illud autem quod ginno nilrllectus concipit quasi notissimum, et in quo omnes conceptione. ksoIviI, . a cus” (De Verit., q.i, a.i). The Activity of the Intellect 161 to the initial discovery in which the intellect grasps the general notion of being, and to the ultimate apprehension in which, ideally, it encompasses the complete definition of its object. d) The inerrancy of the first apprehension of the intellect.— It is a central teaching of Aristotelian psychology, repeated at almost every turn, that in regard to its proper object, which means in its essential operation, a faculty of knowledge can­ not be in error. Accordingly, the human intellect cannot be mistaken in its first apprehension of the essence of things. circa quod est non potest falli.32 This statement, to be sure, can easily be misinterpreted, but it need not be, provided we remember what has been said so far about the first apprehension of the intellect. The fact is that in its first operation, which the Scholastics call the “indi­ visibilium intelligentia,” the mind or intellect is inerrant, that is, always true; the immediate apprehension of the object does correspond to the object as it exists in reality. But this initial understanding, as we have said repeatedly, is a very general and peripheral knowledge, far removed from the adequate expres­ sion of the essence of the thing that constitutes its complete definition. Such a definition, if it is achieved at all, can come only after long search and analysis and comparison, a labor that is as difficult as it is involved; and in the course of this successive labor error may indeed creep in. If, for example, one should de­ fine man not only as a rational but also as a winged creature, one should be mistaken; but one should also have gone beyond the first operation of the mind in regard to man, beyond the “indivisibilium intelligentia.” Error, therefore, is possible, but not so long as the intellect remains strictly within the order of simple apprehension, which is the first operation of flic mind. Error comes in subsequent operations, indirectly and, often at 82 Cf. Summa theol., la, q.85, a.6. 1Ó2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology least, inadvertently. Here again St. Thomas’ teaching is not nearly so simple as it is made out to be in some textbook ver­ sions. II. THE INTELLECTUAL DISCOURSE ("DISCURSUS”) Even within the limits of the first operation of the mind a certain growth in knowledge is possible. But it is not in the activity of the first operation that St. Thomas finds the basis of distinction between lhe human intellect, which is discursive in nature, and the angelic and divine intellects, which are es­ sentially intuitive. St. Thomas observes: "The angelic and the divine intellect have the entire knowledge of a thing at once and perfectly.” The human intellect, on the other hand, ad­ vances in knowledge though composing and dividing in the act of judgment, and through reasoning: componendo, divi­ dendo, cl ratiocinando.’* Compared with the higher spirits above him, win. h .ne intelligences in the proper sense, man theiefoic e. a ica aining rather than an intellectual being: animal rationale. The human intellect, to repeat, must resort to composing, dividing, and ic.r.oning because in its first encounter with a thing it does not al lain perfect knowledge of the object, but only a general under,lauding of one of its aspects, its quiddity or nature; and tin. Inowledge of the nature, as we know, is only approximalivc al fust, admitting of progressive, if not in­ definite, developme nt hollowing its first apprehension, the in­ tellect must continue Io discover, by degrees, the various properties and accidents of the thing together with the further elements comprised m its essence. To acquire this increase of knowledge, the inl< 11« • I most proceed by way of comparison ss “Intellectus angelic ir. < l 'Io..... '■ statim perfecte totam rei cognitionem habet” (Summa theol.. Ia. '| '■ 11 '.)• 84 Ibid.; cf. also Ia, <). çH, 14 b 4' The Activity of the Intellect 163 and analysis, joining further determinations to the general no­ tion of being, and disjoining others; which is to say it must pro­ ceed by way of judgment and, in the matter of inferential knowledge, by way of reasoning. St. Thomas analyzes the discursive character of the human intellect in the following passage: Since the intellect passes from potentiality to act, it has a like­ ness to things which are generated, which do not attain to perfection all at once but acquire it by degrees. So likewise the human intellect does not acquire perfect knowledge by the first act of apprehension; but it first apprehends something about its object, such as its quid­ dity, and this is its first and proper object; and then it understands the properties, accidents, and various relations (habitudines') of the essence. Thus it necessarily compares one thing with another by composition or division; and from one composition and division it proceeds to another, which is the process of reasoning.35 The foregoing description, let it be said again, while com­ plete as to the essentials, is nevertheless a mere general state­ ment, greatly simplified and conventionalized, of the course of human thought in the concrete. Corollary: knowledge as activity.—Initially, according to Aris­ totelian and scholastic doctrine, a faculty of knowledge is es­ sentially passive or receptive; it is, to use a classical analogy, a clean slate on which the external world must leave its inscrip­ tion. In the modern philosophical mind this view of the matter, when first approached, almost invariably produces a certain un­ easiness. For, the modern philosopher is inclined to take just the opposite view. As he secs it, the intellect is more properly an active faculty. Happily, his difficulty is more apparent than real; and if our preceding discussion has shown anything at all, it is that the intellect is not only a passive but also, in fact one might say especially, an active faculty. 36 Summa theol., la, q.85, a. 5. 164 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology St. Thomas himself by no means overlooks the active role of the intellect. Indeed, the intellect has an active part even at the beginning of all its knowledge; for, it must take the initia­ tive in abstracting the intelligible species from the phantasm, without which there can be no reception of the species. More­ over, intellection itself, engendered within the very bosom as it were of the faculty, is a vital activity, which further evidences its fecundity in the production of a mental word. Besides, in order to acquire a clear and distinct knowledge of its object our intellect, as wc have insisted all along, has to perform an immense labor upon and beyond its initial data. Also, it is worth noting that the mind not only reproduces reality truly and faithfully, but over and above this it constructs for itself a whole world ol beings that do not exist in reality, namely, beings of reason, entia rationis. On all these counts, and more, the human intellect declares itself a faculty endowed with ac­ tivity. Ncvci thcle important as it is to insist on the active charactci of tin intellect, hardly less imperative is it to bear in mind that the essential act of this faculty, the “intelligere” or under­ standing, is aitivily only in a higher sense, implying strictly speaking ncithci progression nor movement, its perfection residing in the vciy absence or cessation of motion, that is, in immobility. In a very profound sense, for the intellect to under­ stand is to be: intvllif',ere est esse. Whatever change or succes­ sion occurs in lli< hie of thought is always in function of eventual and final r< pose, or, if one prefers, in furtherance of that fullness of activity that constitutes life’s highest attain­ ment, namely, the pine contemplation of the object + CHAPTER 8 Knowledge of the Singular and of the Soul Part One: Knowledge of the Singular and the Existent Thing "h UP to this point we have depicted intellectual knowl­ edge as knowledge in the abstract and of the universal. We have insisted that the intellect must divest the intelligible ob­ ject of its matter and its individualizing conditions. Therefore, in apprehending its object, which is the essence of material things, the intellect prescinds not only from everything that causes it to be singular but also, note well, from the very fact of its existence in reality. The concrete individual, such as Peter, or this man and this table, lies outside the proper object of our intellect. I may indeed form an abstract and universal idea of an individual thing; but this is knowing the individual 166 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology quidditatively. It is not an intellectual apprehension of the thing in its concrete reality. Still, common experience shows that the intellect makes constant reference to individual things. St. Thomas notes three circumstances in which the fact is clearly observable.1 One is when the intellect forms propositions in which the subject is a particular being, as in “Peter is a man.” It is impossible to explain how propositions of this sort can be formed unless the intellect have previous knowledge of both terms involved, especially, in the present example, of the term “Peter.” An­ other illustration occurs in the intellect’s practical function of directing human action, something it cannot do without referring to things in the concrete singular; hence it must know such cornicle beings. The third case in point has to do with the intellei I's apprehension of itself in its own activity. Obviously, the intellect is a singular entity, and so is capable of knowing, al least the singular object that it is. The problem, then, is to reconcile these two equally assured theses, namely, that I he object of the human intellect is abstract and univei.al, ami I his same intellect can also know the concrete singular. In 'I I..... . philosophy this problem gives rise to two separate bul i< late <1 md convergent lines of inquiry, the one bearing on the knowledge of the singular as singular, and the other on the I mm I, . I of its existence. Accordingly, we shall consider these I wo points in order; but to keep the matter from becoming ovciinvolvcd we shall limit the immediate discus­ sion to our knowledge of physical realities. As for the soul’s knowledge of itsell ami ils conscious activities, and the knowl­ edge of transccmlcnl oalilics, such as God and the angels, together with the exp< liem e that is proper to certain mystical states, these things aie b< Iba left aside for the moment. We shall come back to som<. d not all, of them in the sequel. 1 Cf. Summa theol, In, <| ,i.r. Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 167 I. THE KNOWLEDGE OF SINGULARS 1. The Teaching of St. Thomas a) Knowledge of the singular is only indirect.—This is the position of St. Thomas, which, resting on principles that are basic to his whole philosophy, is logically unassailable. Here is how he explains his teaching, in terms that are clear and to the point: Our intellect cannot know the singular in material things directly and primarily. The reason of this is that the principle of singularity in material things is individual matter, whereas our intellect, as we have said above (la, 85, 1), understands by abstracting the intelli­ gible species from such matter. Now what is abstracted from in­ dividual matter is the universal. Hence our intellect knows directly the universal only. But indirectly, and as it were by a kind of re­ flexion (indirecte et per quamdam reflexionem), it can know the singular, because, as we have said above (la, 85, 7), even after abstracting the intelligible species, the intellect, in order to under­ stand, needs to turn to the phantasms in which it understands the species, as is said in De Anima, III, 7 (431 b 1). Therefore it under­ stands the universal directly through the intelligible species, and in­ directly the singular represented by the phantasm? b) The meaning of return to the phantasm.—How is one to understand this “conversio ad phantasmata,” or return to the phantasm, which is essential to the indirect knowledge of the singular? Whatever the explanation, one thing is cer­ tain: the “conversio” in question is the same as the one that meets with attention in the problem whether the intellect can know without the medium of images or phantasms. Here wc are asking just how this return is achieved. St. Thomas describes the process as follows: 2 Summa theol., la, q.86, a.i. See also la, q.14, a.11; q.tjy, a.2; Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 20; De Veritate, q.xo, a. 5. 168 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology The mind has contact with singulars by reason of something else in so far as it has continuity with the sensitive powers which have particulars for their objects. . . . Thus, the mind knows singulars through a certain kind of reflection, as when the mind, in knowing its object, which is some universal nature, returns to knowledge of its own act, then to the species which is the principle of its act, and, finally, to the phantasm from which it has abstracted the species. In this way, it attains to sonic knowledge about singulars.8 According to this description the intellect grasps the singular by turning its awareness to the origin of its act. Reflecting on this act the inlelh■< I discovers that its principle is the intelligible species, which in I tu n is derived from the phantasm. Since the phantasm is always singular and particular, it is the medium by which the intellect is, so to speak, in contact and continuity with sense l.iiowh l ils knowledge, the phantasm.4 A further question, howcvci, i whether in this act of turning to the phantasm and knowing, the singiil.n, the intellect produces a proper concept of it. l'or I In answer we turn next to the commentators. 2. Elucidations o/ the Commentators a) Regarding th. "aiguitW knowledge of the singular pro­ posed by Cu/chm.—According to Cajetan the intellect has no proper concept of the singular but apprehends it through an­ other concept (<•>»!<■/>/«/ alieno'), which does however apply and refer in some way Io the singular.5 In explanation ol his view he cites the following comparison. Take, he says, the notion of infinite wisdom. When we think 8 De Veritate, q. i<>, n i, * Cf. Text X, “The Kiiim I, of Singulars,” p. 272. 8 Cf. In lam Part., q Mfi, 1, n. vii. Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 169 of infinite wisdom we have in mind something of which we cannot have a proper but only an inadequate concept. So, too, with the singular as singular. We can indeed understand what the singular is when conceived universally, but we cannot conceive what it is in particular or as singular. We can under­ stand what Socrates is essentially or universally, but we cannot have a proper concept of Socrates in his individuality, that is, of “Socrateity.” How, then, does the intellect know Socrates the individual? Cajetan answers that it knows him arguitive, which means through a kind of reasoning process. Thus, we conceive what man is and what singularity is; but we also know that man so conceived, or universal man, does not exist. Therefore, we “argue” or conclude that there is in reality some singular thing which differs from universal man by a difference we cannot conceive quidditatively; and this thing is “Socrateity” or Socrates in his individuality. In this view, then, we do not have a formal and proper representation of the singular, but we in­ fer the singular from another concept (conceptu alieno) when finding, upon reflection, that the origin of this concept is in the singular, so that the singular is contained, obscurely and connotatively, in the abstracted concept. Accordingly, the con­ cept of “Socrates” is nothing more than the universal concept of “man,” but referred by a sort of implicit reasoning process to the singular person perceived by the senses. b) The concept of the singular according to John of St. Thomas.—John of St. Thomas takes a different view." Ac­ cording to him our concept of the singular, while not direct and adequate, is nevertheless proper and distinct. Otherwise, he believes, it would be impossible to discriminate between one individual and another, or to form perfectly clear judgments regarding individuals, such as “Peter is a man” and ''John was not Christ.” The main difference would seem to be Hint in 8 Cf. Cursus Philosophicus, IV Pars, q.io, a.4; ed. Reiser, III. v ■ 0 lyo Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology his view the mere advertence of the intellect to the image­ bound origin of the concept is enough to associate it with the singular, whereas Cajetan thinks that the intellect must resort to a kind of reasoning process in order to refer the concept to the singular. In both instances, however, we have a concept of the singular, say of Socrates, a concepi which, when coupled with sense knowledge, specifically with the image or phantasm, applies only to Socrates. John of St. Thomas was not unmindful that his opinion en­ tailed some difficulties. One of these pertains to the funda­ mental Aristotelian teaching that intellectual knowledge is first and foremost oí the universal, even though each concept must be retened Io an image, which represents, not the uni­ versal, but the singular. But if mere reference to the image suffices for (he concept of the singular, it would seem that in the beg,innin;’ .ill our concepts are proper and distinct (though admittedly induc, I), concepts of the singular instead of the universal. To this objection John of St. Thomas replies that what de­ termines the com opt is the term of the movement of thought.7 In appichciiding an object the intellect may stop at the universal, or it may move on to the singular, which is contained cmuiol.ilivcly and obscurely in the universal. In the first case we have a universal concept, which is the only kind that represents lh< object directly and adequately; in the second case, a loneepl oí the singular, one which represents its object only indina fly and inadequately. But it is by one continuous act that the intellect grasps the universal and moves from the universal Io the singular. Parenthetically, it may be noted that this way ol poili.tying the knowledge of the singular has the advantage ol undeilining the real unity of the activity of the mind, a unity llial is sometimes lost sight of through overemphasis on the dr.Im< lion of faculties and their objects. T Loc. cit., (Reiser, 111. i ( miming to motion is not contingent but necessary. Yd. Imn dn I actually know that Socrates is run­ ning when iiiiiiinr . aine this fact is not necessary but con­ tingent? St. Thomas explains the question in much the same manner as the knowledge ol ih< singular; and, in fact, the two problems reduce to one, seeing ih al matter is the principle both of con­ tingency and siiig.iilaiily or individuation. Accordingly, the contingent, like I he singular, is apprehended directly by sense and indirectly by the infelled. In the words of St. Thomas: "The contingent, < mi ad. n <1 as such, is known directly by 8 Cf. Summa theol. la. n H(>. a.}. Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 173 sense and indirectly by the intellect.” 0 Briefly, this means that the intellect knows concrete existence in and through reflec­ tion on the phantasm, which is to say indirectly. Only the senses have a direct perception of this existence. So much for a preliminary explanation of the matter. The whole question admits of further clarification from another quarter, as we shall see in a moment. 2. The Knowledge of Vision or “per praesentiam” a) The divine knowledge of vision.—St. Thomas’ most com­ plete word on knowledge of the contingent occurs in connec­ tion with the special case of God’s understanding of the same.9 1011 Basically, we may distinguish two kinds of knowledge in God. One is His knowledge of vision (scientia visionis), which is of things in their concrete existence, whether of things past, present, or future. The other is His knowledge of simple under­ standing (scientia simplicis intelligentiae), which pertains to those possible realities that He could produce but never has and never will.11 In general, this distinction corresponds to the distinction in the human intellect between its apprehension of the concrete existent and its abstractive knowledge. For this reason it is not without present interest to examine more closely the difference between the two types of knowledge found in God. John of St. Thomas,12 basing himself on certain passages in St. Thomas,13 concludes that the knowledge of vision differs from the knowledge of simple understanding in that the former adds to the latter something which, strictly speaking, is out9 “Contingentia, prout sunt contingentia, cognoscuntur directe quidem sensu, indirecte autem intellectu” (ibid.). 10 Cf. Summa theol., Ia, q.14, a. 13. 11 Ibid., a. 11. 12 Cursus Philosophicus, Log., Pars Ha, q.23, aa. 1, 2; cd. Reiser, I, 722 ff. 13 Particularly from De Veritate, q.3, a. 3. 174 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology side the order of knowledge or representation (extra genus notitiae'), this additional element being the presence of the thing known. In the knowledge of vision, therefore, the thing, though conceived in an abstract manner, is seen and under­ stood as present. The “vision” of something, as John of St. Tliomas observes, always denotes the apprehension of an object that really exists. In modern usage the more common term for this sort of knowledge is “intuition” or “intuitive knowledge.” The interpretation of John of St. Thomas is confirmed by the fact that St. Thomas himself, when treating of the actual knowledge of (he contingent, always speaks of the presence of I he thing. In its formal meaning, therefore, knowledge of vision is knowledge per praesentiam, which is to say knowledge lh.it comes from the presence of a thing. b) The knowledge of vision of the human intellect.—John of St. Thoma., with whose interpretation we agree, applies the foregoing, analyse, to human knowledge. As we know, this knowledge al Inst is abstract and conceptual. It must thereforc midcipn some sort of modification in order to attain and embi,ni ( ........... in the concrete. Conformably to the afore­ said anal\sr. >>l (.ml's knowledge, we shall have to say that bcfoie the hum.in intellect can apprehend the existence of the concrete iciilily, tin concept, which prescinds from exist­ ence, must be n ha ieii, resulting in the knowledge of the self becoming in­ creasingly important. With respe. I to the metaphysical aspect of the question at hand, one mav asl . as many modern philosophers have done, whclhei the appii heir.ion of the self is not the first principle of knowledge, whal< v.< ... ipsam novit.1* This remark, frequently cited by St I homas, embodies a spiritual and psychological tradition that lo all appearances is the exact opposite of the more sense-bound intellectualism of Aristotle. Either, then, one must choose bclwicn these two positions or find a way of reconciling them, it that be possible. What is here al sial c and this should be evident at once— is the very nature 01 ...... a most structure of the human being. 18 “Non enim cognis. unir. intellectum nostrum nisi per hoc, quod intelligimus nos intelligei. " (In III De Anima, lect. 9, no. 724). 17 “Unumquodque ..1.1.11<- . st secundum quod est in actu, et non secundum quod est m uii.i'' (Summa theol., la, q.87, a.i). 18 De Trinitate, IX, 4 Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 179 Is man no more than an embodied spirit? Is he not perhaps endowed, also, with the powers of a pure spirit, an angel— at least to a latent degree? Clearly, to raise these questions is to bring into debate nothing less than the essential nature and definition of man. St. Thomas, it need hardly be said, understood the real meaning of the problem; and in general, here as almost always, he holds to the Aristotelian line. Interestingly enough, however, he was not to go all his life without manifesting some mis­ givings in favor of the view of the matter found in the Chris­ tian, specifically in the Augustinian, tradition. Indeed, in some of his earlier writings, for example in De Veritate, he evinces a considerable measure of agreement with the Augustinian notion of the soul’s self-knowledge. Some years later, however, when discussing the same question in the Summa, he was to show greater reserve toward this view, while not, it would seem, rejecting it altogether. In the following pages, therefore, we shall examine his manner of dealing with the problem in two places of major importance, namely, his treatment in De Veritate 19 and his subsequent handling in the Summa,20 these to be followed by a brief account of his answer to the problem —for it is a problem—regarding the knowledge which the separated soul has in and of itself, apart from supernatural considerations.21 Having seen and understood what St. Thomas propounds in these articles, we shall also have met with his utmost thought on the subject. Furthermore, we shall have had a practical illustration of the way St. Thomas handles a question on which Aristotle and St. Augustine are seemingly at odds. 10 De Veritate, q. 10, a. 8. M Summa theol., la, q.87, a.i. 21 Ibid., q.89, a. 1. 18o Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology II. CRITICAL EXPOSITION BY ST. THOMAS i. Assimilation of the Augustinian Legacy In De Veritate 22 St. Thomas submits the matter of the soul’s direct knowledge of itself to a thoroughgoing critique. The question he raises is this: whether the intellectual soul (mens) knows itself directly through its essence, or indirectly through being actualized by species abstracted from phantasms— “Utrum mens scipsam per essentiam cognoscat, aut per ali­ quam speciem.” Both sides of the question are set forth at length. The Aristolclian view in favor of indirect knowledge through species, “per speciem,” is presented in a series of six­ teen objet lion.'., followed by another series of eleven in support of the An.',ir.I mi ni thesis of direct knowledge through the essence, “per c .sentiam.” Thus, the issue is met head on, so to speak. Si. I liom i. be,',ins the body of the article by noting that knowledge ol lhe soul through itself may be taken in two ways. It may mean the knowledge by which the soul knows itself in those aspci !■. that arc proper to it alone, knowing itself as something com u l< ami individual, existing in this particular be­ ing. This is individual and concrete knowledge. But knowledge of the soul lhiou; li il'.< II may also mean the knowledge by which it knows itself in Iliose aspects that are common to all souls. This is universal ami absl ract knowledge, by which the nature of the soul is known < >m present interest does not lie in this latter knowledge, lh< development of which pertains to the scientific study ol lhe •ami. Rather, our immediate attention centers on this rudiim nlary, prescientific, and experimental grasp which the soul lur. of itself. Here again, however, a dis­ tinction must be made Eor even this primitive knowledge of itself may be urlihil. by which the soul knows itself through 22 De Veritate, q. io, n.H Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 181 its acts, as Aristotle affirms; or it may be habitual, by which the soul, it may be granted with St. Augustine, knows itself through its essence. Since the distinction made here by St. Thomas between actual and habitual knowledge is crucial to the whole problem under discussion, we must take a further look at these terms for their meaning in the present context. a) The actual knowledge of the soul through itself.—St. Thomas explains very clearly what he means by this actual self-knowledge of the soul. Here are his own words: “Concern­ ing the actual cognition by which one actually considers that he has a soul, I say that the soul is known through its acts. For one perceives that he has a soul, that he lives, and that he exists, because he perceives that he senses, understands, and carries on other vital activities of this sort.” 23 For Aristotle, at least, the point made here by St. Thomas is not only a primitive but an irreducible datum of experience, since Aris­ totle gives no hint of a more direct knowledge of the soul. I know myself in and through my conscious activity, and in no other way. When this activity ceases, the awareness of myself likewise comes to a halt. In Aristotelian doctrine, moreover, this conclusion can be established on a priori grounds, since it follows from the earlier-mentioned metaphysical principle underlying the Aris­ totelian theory of the knowability of things in general. Aristotle, in other words, insists that a thing is knowable or intelligible in so far as it is in act. Before the reception of the species, however, the intellect is only in potency with respect to the order of intelligible objects. Consequently, the intellect is not knowable or intelligible directly through itself, but only be­ comes knowable after being actualized by a species. It is 28 “Quantum igitur ad actualem cognitionem, qua aliquis considerat se in actu animam habere, sic dico, quod anima cognoscitur per actus suos. In hoc enim aliquis percipit se animam habere, et vivere, et esse, quod percipit sc sentire et intelligere, et alia huiusmodi vitae opera exercere’’ (De Veritate, q. 10, a.8). 182 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology through the species, therefore, that the soul actually knows itself. Aristotle leaves no doubt on this point. b) The habitual knowledge of the soul through itself.—In order that the soul know itself by habitual knowledge, the inter­ vention of a species is not necessary. This knowledge it can have from the mere fact that it is present to itself. St. Thomas expresses himself as follows: “Concerning habitual knowledge I say this, that the soul secs itself through its essence, that is, the soul has the power to enter upon actual knowledge {actum cognitionis') of il self from the very fact that its essence is present to it.” 24 This knowledge, he explains, is comparable to possessing the habit of a science. One who possesses the habit of a science, a mathematician for example, can immediately and by his own < lloils proceed to consider the things that fall under that sciente. Similarly, within the soul there lies what­ ever it needs Io accomplish this knowledge of itself. As St. Thomas observes, “The essence of the soul, which is present to the mind, is enough for this [i.e., for the perception of its existence .ind Hit activity within it], for the acts in which it is actually ........ived proceed from it.” ” So mut h fm St Thomas’ statement on the matter. Even his stale ni< nt, however, may not have satisfied all our queries. What, exactly, r. the ieal import of this habitual knowledge enunciated by St Thomas? One false impression should be dismissed at once 'The habitual knowledge in question is not at all actual, and it is not conscious. It has nothing to do with 24 “Quantum ml cogmlioiiriii habitualem, sic dico, quod anima per es­ sentiam suam se videt, ut rsl ix hoc ipso quod essentia sua est sibi praesens, est potens exire in :i< tum • < >/i 1111< >i us sui ipsius” (ibid.). 25 “Ad hoc sufficit sutu i i nl Iu ¡mimae, quae menti est praesens: ex ea enim actus progrcdiuntui, in i|iiibui actualiter ipsa percipitur” {ibid.). St. Thomas, howcvei. dm ■■ nul mean to suggest that the habitual knowl­ edge in question is a tialul piop, , m fact, he says explicitly it is not: “Ad hoc autem quod percipiat n.i rssc, et quid in seipsa agatur attendat, non requiritur aliquis li.it •. ,| .„[ hoc . . .” Then follows the passage just quoted in this present note Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 183 that ill-defined yet uninterrupted awareness of self that goes with all our conscious life. We are here simply at the highest level of the soul’s being. There is no doubt that what St. Thomas has in mind is to accentuate the ultimate nature of the soul, showing that it is inherently capable of knowing itself in the way an angel, meaning a pure spirit, knows himself. Nor need this be cause for undying wonder. The human soul, let it be remembered, is spiritual through and through. As such, it is intelligible by its very nature. And since it is not only in­ telligible but also intelligent, in so far as it is intelligent it is clearly present to itself. In principle, therefore, the human soul by its very nature possesses whatever is necessary to credit it with an act of direct knowledge of itself. Still, it may be asked why in the present life the human soul does not always actually know itself in this way; why, in other words, this latent capacity to know itself directly is not actually and continuously realized. The answer lies in the fact that in the present life its proper mode of knowing is abstractive; it now knows by turning to the phantasm, both to acquire the intelligible species by which at present it must be actualized, as well as to accomplish the act of knowledge after having been informed by the species. This circumstance bars direct knowledge of the soul. As for the reason why it must now turn to the phantasm, that is another question, not over­ looked by St. Thomas, but falling beyond our immediate con­ cern. In its state of union with the body, therefore, the soul’s habitual knowledge of itself is not constantly actualized. But is there ever an instance in this life when it is so actualized? Or—and this comes to the same thing—may we say that the actual knowledge mentioned earlier is a partial and acquired actualization of the habitual knowledge in question? To these points we find no explicit answers in St. Thomas; but his re­ plies to several of the pro and con arguments preceding the 184 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology body of the article suggest that in his view the actual knowl­ edge spoken of in the article is a sort of continuation of the habitual knowledge, at least in so far as it relates to the mere existence of the soul, and not to its essential nature. Thus, in one reply, commenting on St. Augustine’s assertion that the soul knows itself through itself, he writes as follows: “We must understand these words of St. Augustine to mean that the mind knows itself through itself, since from itself the mind has the power to enter upon the act by which it actually knows itself, by perceiving that ¡I exists." 20 *24* 2. Handling of I he Problem in the Summa Reading SI. Thomas’ discussion of this same problem in the Summa,'-"' one cannot but feel that here he is more reluctant, though not alliigclhcr unwilling, to concede anything to the August mi.in I i.idilion. Here, in other words, the application of Air.loir h.in pinu iplcs to the question at hand is more rigid. The com hr I'm anived at in the body of the article is that I he only knowledge I he soul has of itself is through its acts. “Therefore,” so mu. his conclusion, “the intellect knows it­ self not by ils < . .< nee, but by its act.” 28 The reason on which this verdict is based we already know. A thing is knowable or intelligible in mi I n .,. il is in act. But with respect to the order of intelligible nhp. I .. mu intellect is in pure potency. Hence the aforesaid deleinnn.ilion. Having stated this, St. Thomas further notes, re. in I Veritate, that the soul’s self-knowledge is nevertheless twofold. Il may be particular or experimental, 20 “Dicendum, quod vribiuu Augustini est intelligendum quod mens seipsam per seipsam lopuo-.. il, quod ex ipsa mente est ei unde possit in actum prodire, quo sc m lu.ilih i cognoscat percipiendo se esse” (De Veri­ tate, q.io, a.8 ad 1 in coulnii itun). Cf. Text XI, “The Know I. dpc of the Soul Through Itself,” p. 274. 27 Summa theol., I.i. q . .1 1 28 “Non ergo per csscnli.im 111111. '.rd per actum suum se cognoscit in­ tellectus noster” (ibid.). Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 185 as when Socrates perceives he has an intellectual soul by per­ ceiving that he understands. Or it may be universal and scien­ tific, as when we learn the nature of the human intellect from knowledge of the intellectual act. After going through the article in the Summa one naturally wonders whether here all habitual and direct knowledge of the soul has been definitely eliminated. The text itself seems to indicate that it has not been ruled out. If one studies carefully what St. Thomas says about the particular knowledge which the soul has of itself, it will be seen that the adequate basis for this, as for habitual knowledge, is the mere presence of the soul to itself. “The mere presence of the mind,” observes St. Thomas, “suffices for the first [i.e., particular knowledge].”28 Furthermore, the term of knowledge is the same in both cases; in particular knowledge as in habitual knowledge, what one knows is the existence of the soul and its activities, not its essential nature. The individual perceives that he has an intel­ lectual soul whenever he takes note of his intelligent activity. “Socrates or Plato,” writes St. Thomas, meaning anyone, “per­ ceives that he has an intellectual soul because he perceives that he understands ( intelligere ).” 80 Thus the instrumentality of the act of the intellect is always required, but once again the ultimate ground for this particular awareness of self would seem to be that intelligible presence of the soul to itself which is conveyed in the notion of habitual knowledge. 3. The Case of the Separated Soul In its present condition, which is that of union with the body, the intellectual soul is largely cloaked in obscurity. This is particularly true of its ultimate reality, the core of its being. 20 “Nam ad primam cognitionem de mente habendam sufficit ipsa mentis praesentia” (ibid.). 30 “Socrates vel Plato percipit se habere animam intellectivam ex hoc quod percipit se intelligere” (ibid.). 186 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology To find some way of portraying the soul in its separated con­ dition would therefore be a most welcome as well as enlighten­ ing experience. St. Thomas, with all the forthrightness of the metaphysician that he is, does not shrink from contriving a theoretical conception of the separated soul’s manner and being.31 What he says on this subject will give us further insight into the nature of our intellectual activity. At the very outset, this inquiry poses a dilemma regarding the union of body and soul. If we accept the view of the Platonists that the soul’s union with the body is not substantial but accidental, I hen separation is its natural state, and the problem of its manner of knowing apart from the body does not exist. For, on Ihal supposition death simply means that the soul is u lc.i'.i <1 Io its natural condition of a pure spirit, inherently and icdiately prepared, like any such spirit, to know intelligible objects without benefit of phantasms. But this solution meiely creates another problem for which it has no answci What, in other words, would be the reason for union ol bod) and ami if this union, far from working to the good ol lhe soul, indy redounded to its embarrassment? On the olliei hand. J the. union is natural and for the good of the soul inasmuch a -, lh< body makes possible the procurement of phantasms wilhoul which knowledge is impossible, naturally speaking it would a cm (hat after death the soul, having no body, is incapable ol Imowing anything at all. St. Thomas cm mnv< nls this dilemma by saying that there are two modes ol under,landing for the soul, corresponding to its two different modes <>l existing, one in union with the body and the other in scp.milioii from it. United with the body, the intellectual soul know, by turning to phantasms; disjoined, it knows in the mannei ol pirn spirits, that is, by turning to objects that are by nature actually n 11 < 11 igible ( intelligibilia simpliciter). But he hastens to add and this is the real point he wants to 31 Cf. Summa theol., In, <| > i i Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 187 make—that the soul’s mode of knowing when united with the body, like its mode of existing in the body, is the natural one, whereas the other is preternatural. “It is natural for the soul,” he declares, “to understand by turning to the phantasms as it is for it to be joined to the body; but to be separated from the body is not in accordance with its nature (praeter rationem suae naturae), and likewise to understand without turning to the phantasms is not natural to it (praeter naturam).” ’2 In the mind of St. Thomas, therefore, there is no doubt that the best (natural) condition for man is to be united with the body, possessing the kind of activity that accords with this union. But St. Thomas is not unmindful that to this conclusion another objection can be raised. If, as we have said, the soul is fundamentally capable of knowing in the manner of pure spirits, what possible advantage is there to its having to resort to an inferior mode of knowing, since to know by turning to objects intelligible by nature is better than to know by turning to phan­ tasms? St. Thomas disposes of this objection by explaining that the human soul, being lowest in the order of intellectual substances, could not acquire precise and distinct knowledge of things if its only manner of knowing were that which is proper to higher spiritual substances. “While it is true,” he notes, “that it is nobler in itself to understand by turning to something higher than to understand by turning to phantasms, nevertheless such a mode of understanding was not so perfect as regards what was possible to the soul. . . . Therefore to make it possible for human souls to possess perfect and proper knowledge, they were so made that their nature required them to be joined to bodies.” ss Accordingly, the reason why it was good for the soul to require a body was to enable it to gain proper and adequate knowledge of sensible things, which clear knowledge of such 32 Ibid. 33 Ibid. 188 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology things it, unlike higher spiritual substances, could not acquire without the sensible media of images. And with these remarks we have reached what appears to be St. Thomas the philoso­ pher’s 34 last word on the union of body and soul and its bear­ ing on the activity of man as man.33 III. CONCLUSIONS AND COROLLARIES i. Summary of the Doctrine of St. Thomas a) The soul’s knowledge of itself.—In the present life our natural condition is that of an incarnate spirit, whose deepest roots, however, are those of a pure spirit. As incarnate spirit, our soul knows it•.< If t hrough its acts, that is, through intelligible species, pci species; but in its capacity of a pure spirit it is ob­ jectively (that is, knowably) and immediately present to the intellect. This is the meaning of the soul’s habitual knowledge of itself as set forth in De Veritate. As soon as, or whenever, an act of al>-.li.i< live knowledge comes to pass, the intellectual soul apprehends itself immediately, perceiving, not its essen­ tial iialmc, but its existence inasmuch as it understands itself to be the piim iplc of the knowledge at hand. There is every reason Io l>ch< v< that in this becoming aware of itself the soul experiences a p.iilial realization of that primordial capacity to know itscll Ihiough itself which St. Thomas calls habitual knowledge. Basu .illy, then, it would be as a pure spirit that the soul becomes aware <>f j|s< If. As soon as its ties with the body are broken, the soul ,i it becomes its immediate and proper object of knowledge; ,md (hen its preternatural condition as an actual spirit, separate .mil subsistent, is fully revealed. 34The text says, "St. | . ........ ||)C philosopher" advisedly, as St. Thomas is here speaking of the painted soul’s "natural” knowledge, not of its supernatural knowledge. In I n i, In is careful to note that "the knowledge of glory is otherwise < < I to the elimination of the external thing as the immediate objet I ol I nowledge, the three great French systems of thought im . ...... cd e arlier are at one, there being little to choose between the < Icai and distinct idea of Descartes, the primitive fact ol Maine de Biran, and the immediate data of consciousness pul toiwaid by Bergson. In the one case the self or ego is reduced to a thinking substance, in the other to de­ liberate conativc elloil, and in the third to pure duration. But in all of them the inun< diale knowledge of the intellect stops short of the external <>1 >j< •< I, coining to halt at an object interior to consciousness. In ( ¡crinan idealism the first principle or starting point of knowlcdis still the self, reflectively appre­ hended; but here it loses all semblance of substantiality, even Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 191 where it is grounded in a subject, as the subject itself is held to be in constant flux, having no abiding identity. So under­ stood, the self is nothing more than the first and unconditioned positing (thesis) of an act of the mind. St. Thomas, following Aristotle, takes a different course. For him, as we have repeatedly said, the proper object of the hu­ man intellect lies in the material thing, exterior to the mind. In this view, much more moderate than the preceding ones, the particular problem is to find a satisfactory explanation for the assimilation by the mind of an object so different from itself. But the Aristotelian doctrine has the untold advantage of be­ ing more in harmony with the facts in the matter. Both Aris­ totle and St. Thomas insist that human understanding is in the first instance turned outward, grasping something other than itself. But it is also capable of turning inward; for intellectual activity is immanent, and it is also reflective. More profoundly, there resides within us the wherewithal for existing and under­ standing in the manner of a pure spirit. When that condition shall have come to pass, the self will become the immediate and direct object of our thought. In our present condition, however, this sort of understanding is not possible except, as we have seen, on that greatly reduced scale implied in the soul’s habitual knowledge of itself. In the state of separation, when soul is no longer united to body, our whole understand­ ing will be in the manner of a pure spirit, yet still imperfectly so, not reaching the perfection of the higher spirits. All in all, then, the doctrine that holds the self to be the original and precedent object of awareness is not without some foundation. The doctrine of St. Thomas, however, while less pretentious, is more comprehensive and objective, that is, accordant with stubborn reality. IÇ2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology APPENDIX The Knowledge of Higher (Spiritual) Realities In his comprehensive treatment of human intellectual knowl­ edge in the Summa, St. Thomas classifies this knowledge ac­ cording to the gradation of objects which it can consider. These objects are of three general kinds: material things, which are below the intellect in the order of being; the soul itself, which is on the same level; and spiritual substances, which are above it. We have already discussed the knowledge of material things and of the soul itself. Still to be considered, though briefly— since this is not the place for its detailed discussion—is the problem of man’s knowledge of spiritual beings. St. Thomas notes two instances of such knowledge, one relating to the angels, the other to God. a) Man's knowledge of the angels.—In the Summa St. Thomas devotes two articles to this particular point.37 Much of his discussion in these articles deals with the opinions of cer­ tain commcntalois, especially those of Averroes and Avempace, ac( ohIih” to wl.... i man’s blessedness consists in knowing the separate subslam < -, These opinions do not concern us here. As for St. Thoma .' own leaching, it may be summed up in two principal items: i) that in its present state the human intel­ lect cannot know immaterial substances in themselves (secun­ dum seipsas); and •’) ,ll;l1 by analogy with material things it can gain some knowledge of their nature, but this knowledge is indirect and impelh' * I. These conclusions will be readily admitted by those who accept the over-all them y of knowledge taught by Aristotle and St. Thomas. But whclhei or not we accept this theory, experi­ ence itself testifies that w< have no immediate and direct knowl­ edge of spirits. As for the in;inner of knowledge and communica87Summa theol., la, <1 11 Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 193 tion among pure spirits themselves, St. Thomas discusses that question in his treatise on the angels, reaching definite conclu­ sions of his own. But what he says about it does not apply specifically to the human soul in its present state of union with the body, and so we need not press the matter further. b) Man’s knowledge of God.38—If in its present state our intellect is unable to have a proper knowledge of created spiritual substances, all the greater is its inability to acquire a proper and direct knowledge of God. To repeat a previous as­ sertion, the human intellect is not the faculty of the divine; its direct and proper object is not God. Still, the human intellect by its own resources can come to some knowledge of God. From the knowledge of sensible things His existence can be known. Also, by analogy and, as the theologians say, by way of nega­ tion and eminence {via remotionis et eminentiae) we can gain some knowledge, however imperfect, of His nature and per­ fections. It is for the metaphysician to treat of these matters at length and in detail. Suffice it to have noted that even for the human intellect as now constituted, there exists an ave­ nue of approach to these higher realities. Part Three: Conclusion. Historical and Doftrinal Position oj St. Thomas’ Theory At the risk of some repetition we shall conclude our entire discussion of St. Thomas’ doctrine of intellectual knowledge with a further summary of its general character and achieve­ ment, noting first its principal sources and the advances made by St. Thomas, and then comparing it with the approach of modem philosophy to the same problem. 38 Ibid., a. 5. 194 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology i. Philosophical Origins of the Thomistic Doctrine a) There is no disputing that in the main St. Thomas en­ dorses the Aristotelian theory of knowledge, considering it as a via media between the utter sensism of Democritus and the Platonic theory of ideas. Of these two extreme views, more­ over, it was the latter especially which circumstances conspired to single out for his attention and adjudication. For all that, however, St. Thomas could not ignore whatever had been said and thought on the subject since Aristotle. Con­ fronting him were, besides the Aristotelian doctrine, two other important sources oí philosophical speculation. One of these was the Auguslinian tradition, of which he made some modified borrowing,s. Among the most noteworthy adoptions are his assimilation of the Augustinian notion of knowledge through the eternal icasons (rationes aeternae) and his incorporation, in amended I.... . of the principle that the soul knows itself through il'.clt In the hands of St. Thomas these notions are skillfully inlcgialcd with the Aristotelian scheme of knowledge, to which in linn they lend increased depth and dimension. Alongside of the Align'dinian theory of knowledge, moreover, St. Thomas loitnd •.< kinship with the Aristotelian tradition and with certain < l< m< nls of St. Augustine’s thought, St. Thomas’ doctrine of know ledge displays strong characteristics of its own. And il, as r. line, il is more Aristotelian than any­ thing else, the end | hi< I is an Aristotelianism carried to new heights and pronnm in <■ Wc cannot detail all the points improved upon by SI Thoni.r., Significant, for example, are his contributions to the com < pl of immateriality and to such mat­ ters as the object of llic inh llcct, the active aspect of the intel- Knowledge of Singular and of Soul 195 lectual process, the mental word, and the soul’s knowledge of itself. In all these questions Aristotle is materially surpassed. Not less notable for enlarging our understanding of the na­ ture of intellect is his teaching on angelic and divine knowl­ edge, the product in large measure of his own creative thought Here we are introduced into every realm of spiritual being, com­ prising every order of intellect, from our own which is lowest, to the highest which is God. This hierarchical conception of intellect is as impressive as it is comprehensive, and one is not surprised to find St. Thomas applying himself to it with ob­ vious liking. For, here lay a challenge suiting his genius, the genius of a man who, better than all others, knew how to re­ duce great questions to order and unity. 2. The Thomistic Doctrine Compared with the Modern Approach a) In modern philosophy the most typical approach to the problem of knowledge is, without a doubt, idealism, meaning subjectivism. In its modern dress idealism goes back to Des­ cartes; he laid its foundations, insisting that the immediate and primary object of the intellect is the thinking self. After him it grew by leaps and bounds, its growth outdone only by its unending variety. In Kant it still lacks complete fulfillment, since he retains a transcendent reality over and above the world of phenomena. But this distinction is done away with by his successors. With them, idealism reaches its ultimate and logical term, becoming a philosophy of pure immanence, where all knowledge is self-knowledge. Thus idealism, beginning with an impassable barrier between subject and object, ends with an impossible identity of subject and object. The ground roots of idealism, however, are older than Des­ cartes. They may be traced to that irreparable cleavage between sensory and intellectual knowledge, between objects of sense and objects beyond sense, which Plato had been the first to ig6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology inflict. Plato, it is true, admitted that in the beginning our knowledge is of sensible things; but these are constantly chang­ ing and subject to endless variation. Consequently, they can­ not satisfy our intellect, which seeks what is unchanging and abiding. The mind, therefore, cannot find its proper object in the material world. Freed from all outside dependence, it is self-sufflcient, its object being itself, or at least within itself. b) It was this extreme partitioning of sensible and intelligi­ ble object to which Aristotle and his followers took particular exception in Plato’s doctrine. Their position is that the neces­ sary and the changeable object, the object of sense and the ob­ ject of intellect, arc received one with the other by the knower, both deriving from the same external reality. Nor is this a mat­ ter of mere choice with them, since the facts of experience it­ self bear witness -magis experimur, says St. Thomas39—that the intellect receives its object from sensible things. This view of knowledge may well offer some difficulties not cncoimlctcd in tin idealist account, all the elements of which seem Io I all in place at once. But what the Aristotelian ex­ planation foilc its in simplicity it more than gains in credibility, attending as it / I he primacy of will.—Offhand, one might expect that the will ought to be superior to the intellect, the reasons being the following, i) The rank of a faculty, so it would seem, is detent.... ... by its object. But the object of the will is the good, which designates a thing according to the full­ ness of its perfeci ion, irn hiding in particular its ultimate act or perfection : existence Tims I he object of the will appears to be more perfect than the nunc abstract object of the intellect, 9 Cf. Summa theol., la, <| 8/, lie Veritate, q.22, a.11. The Will 203 which is the true. 2) Since it moves the intellect, the will is seemingly master of it, the more so that the object of the will, which is the good or the end, is first and foremost among the causes. 3) A supernatural argument for the pre-eminence of will can be formulated from St. Paul’s teaching that the most perfect habit or virtue is charity, which resides in the will: major autem horum est caritas. Between habits and the potencies they perfect, however, there must be correspondence. Presum­ ably, then, the will, the seat of charity, cannot but be the highest faculty. b) Reasons in favor of the primacy of intellect.10—Despite the aforesaid arguments, St. Thomas insists that, absolutely speaking, the intellect is superior to the will. His reasoning may be summed up in the following statements. 1) The more simple and the more abstract a thing, the nobler and higher it is in itself: quanto autem aliquid est simplicius et abstractius, tanto secundum se est nobilius et altius. 2) The object of the intellect is more simple and more absolute than the object of the will: objectum enim intellectus est simplicius et magis absolutum quam objectum voluntatis. The first of these statements is merely an application of the general principle that immateriality is the root or foundation of knowledge. The more immaterial the mode of being of the object of a faculty, the more actual and more perfect the object, and, correspondingly, the more removed from matter and so the more perfect is the potency related to the object. The second statement is an illustration of the first. It implies that the in­ tellect is higher than the will because of the difference in their respective objects. The object of the intellect, which is the quiddity or essence of things, does not include concrete ex­ istence; whereas the object of the will, which is the good, en10 In addition to the references in note 9, the reader may also consult Cajetan, In lam Partem, q.82, a. 3, and John of St. Thomas, Cursus Philosophicus, IV Pars, q.12, a. 5 (ed. Reiser, III, 403 ff.). 204 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology compasses a thing in all its concrete reality. Consequently, the former is more abstract and more immaterial than the latter; and these conditions, according to the first of the two statements under consideration, render the object of the intellect, and therefore the intellect itself, more noble and higher. In De Veritate 11 St. Thomas invokes another reason, one that concerns the manner in which the intellect and the will attain their object. The intellect, observes St. Thomas, takes posses­ sion of its object in more intimate fashion; therefore, the faculty of knowledge is superior. What I know, in other words, is present in the faculty of knowledge through the species of the thing, but what I desire is not similarly present in the will, since I desire it in the existence it has in itself. But to be in possession of tin < si < Hence of a thing is more perfect than to be propcily disposed to this thing as it exists outside oneself.11 In brief, absolutely speaking, cognitive assimilation by the faculty of knowledge is more perfect than effective union through the will. St. Thomas' reasoning on this point is not merely an ad hoc tactic. In hrs ticatise on beatitude he carries his logic to its ultimate conclusion in declaring that our supreme happiness formally consists not in an act of the will, nor in fruition by the will—this being a i< suit of happiness—but in the knowledge or vision of God. Ncvcilhclcss, the delight of the will is a necessary and essential an omp......... nt of the act by which the faculty of knowledge, the intellect, comes in possession of our ultimate end.13 Among medieval Scholastics and the commentators of suc­ ceeding ages this question of priority between intellect and will provided the matciial lor a great many discussions, which 11 Q.22, a. n. 12 “Perfectius autem < -a. simpliciter et absolute loquendo, habere in se nobilitatem alterius rei, quam .id h in nobilem comparari extra se existentem” (ibid.). 13 Cf. Summa theol., In llar, <1.3, n.4. The Will 205 it would take far too long to examine. In general, however, the Scotist school maintains the superiority of the will, and many others agree with them. Be that as it may, the Thomistic argu­ ments to the contrary rest on metaphysical ground that is un­ assailable. There is no denying, either, that in arguing for the pre-eminence of the intellect St. Thomas was again taking his stand with Aristotle, who in his inquiry regarding the highest happiness leaves no doubt that according to him the primacy belongs to knowledge,14 and that pleasure or delight is an out­ come of knowledge, supervening upon the act of contempla­ tion, “like the fairness of youth on those in the flower of life.” 15 c) Relative superiority of the will.—Absolutely speaking, we have said, the intellect excels the will. There is, however, one general circumstance in which the opposite holds true, when, in other words, to will an object is better than to know it. This happens if the object in question is higher in the order of being than the intellect. Practically speaking, this condition prevails for all objects whose excellence surpasses that of the soul itself; and it applies most of all to God. In this life, therefore, the primacy belongs to charity. St. Thomas sums up his position as follows: “The love of God is better than the knowledge of God; but, on the contrary, the knowledge of corporeal things is better than the love thereof. Absolutely speaking, however, the intellect is nobler than the will.” 16 In this passage, let it be noted, St. Thomas is speaking of the present condition of man. In the beatific vision it will again be more perfect to know than to love.17 14 Cf. Nicomachean Ethics, X, especially 7, 8. 15 Ibid., 4, 1174 b 32. 18 Summa theol., la, q.82, a. 3. 11 Cf. Text XIII, "Superiority of Intellect over Will,” p. 284. 2o6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology 2. How the Will Moves the Other Powers of the Soul In the order of specification,18 which means with respect to its object, the will is determined by, or depends on, the intellect, since only what is known can be willed: nil volitum nisi praecognitum. In the order of efficient causality, however, which is the order of exercise, it is the will that moves the intellect and, more generally, all other powers of the soul, excepting the vegetative, which are not directly subject to it.19 The reason why the will is mover of the other faculties lies in the nature of its object. As St. Thomas explains, whenever a number of potencies are interrelated, the one whose object is the universal good has the role of movei in regard to potencies whose respective object is a pailieulai good. St. Thomas compares this role of the will Io the office of a king, whose concern is to secure the good ol the whole kingdom, and who by his orders moves lesser officeholde r, placed in charge of particular regions of the realm. Siniilaily. the obj<•< I of the will is not a particular good, but the good or the end universally, whereas other faculties are di­ rected c.ie h low .ml I In particular good proper to it. Therefore the will, com huh , Si Thomas, moves the other powers of the soul; a conclusion, moicovcr, that is borne out by experience. However, the will docs not move all powers of the soul with the same immédiat y Ils Inst and most immediate action bears on the intellect and >|■, a< I ivity. Compared with universal good, the object of the inlcllci I. the true, is only a particular good. Hence the will can pul I In intellect to use for its own purposes. As noted earlier, the. is what happens in the human act when, moved by the will’s ml< ml urn of tire end, the intellect seeks the 18 For further explanation ol s/iei i/ication and exercise with reference to the will, see below, p. 21 4 18 On the question of the will moving the intellect and the other faculties of the soul, see Summa thcl, la, q 82, a.4. The Will 2crj means by which the end can be obtained, deliberates about the means available, and finally decides which is preferable. Thereupon, in concurrence with the imperative judgment of the intellect (the imperium), the will sets in motion the other powers of the soul whose instrumentality may be required to complete a given action. These powers are the faculties of sense knowledge, sense appetite, and locomotion. The will’s control over these faculties, however, is not absolute: they can also be influenced by other factors. For example, the internal as well as the external senses, and the passions of the soul, may be stimulated and otherwise affected by bodily conditions. Over these, therefore, the will has only political (or qualified) control as compared with despotic (or absolute) dominion. As a matter of fact, among the elements of behavior falling within the scope of voluntary activity, most difficult to assess from the moral point of view are the movements of passion and emotion, which have a strong bodily resonance. Being sensory in character, such experiences cannot reside in the will itself, al­ though the will can and does harbor sentiments that are purely spiritual, such as the love of God or the ardent desire of truth. Nevertheless, even as intellectual activity is intimately related to the activity of sense knowledge, so is the activity of the will, even in its highest form, in closest association with the well­ springs of those sensory responses that sprout into feelings or swell into emotions. Indeed, not the least task of the moralist consists in explaining how these two faculties of different or­ ders, will and sensitive appetite, react upon each other, and how this reciprocal attraction influences human conduct. Our only purpose here has been to call attention, once more, to the fact that while for purposes of study we may carefully separate the powers of the soul and their activities, we must never forget that in the concrete all these powers and activities are knit to­ gether in closest union, stemming from and stirring, all of them, in one and the same living subject. 2o8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology III. FREE WILL i. The Psychological Notion of Freedom Since freedom is a word that has many greatly different mean­ ings, it is important to make clear just what we mean by it in the present discussion. a) External freedom and internal freedom.—In its most gen­ eral sense a free act is one that is done without constraint: I am free to do something because nothing compels me to it. Com­ pulsion, moreover, can bear both on the external act and on the internal act of willing itself. To the absence oí external coercion corresponds freedom of external action, which is variously named according to the kind of activity involved. Thus, we have physical freedom when we have the pow< i Io move about freely to a degree that is not en­ joyed, say, by a pi r.on inmate; civil freedom when we possess the right oi powei lo act according to our wishes within the frame­ work ol society, political freedom when we enjoy the right to lake part, pmsiianl lo constitutional provisions, in the govern­ ment ol a stale oi nation; and freedom of conscience when we may express........ mvictions in public. To the absence ol internal coercion corresponds psychologi­ cal freedom oi I he mm i power to will freely. This is freedom in the basic sena II means that the will has the power to determine whethei il will act or not act, as well as the power to will one thing oi lo will another. External freedom is contingent on internal freedom, since the first has no meaning, without the second. But the converse is not necessarily true Even though I should be deprived of my external freedoms, the ficcdom of my will remains—supposing, of course, that I am not al o bereft, temporarily or permanently, of my reason. In the discussion to follow only this inner or psy­ chological freedom is undci consideration. The Will 20g b) Spontaneity and freedom.—We have just said that free will is not identical with the mere absence of external compul­ sion. We must further observe that it is not altogether inter­ changeable with the power of spontaneous activity, which, in a way, comes from within the subject. Doubtless, one oi the dis­ tinguishing marks of a free act is its spontaneity; its principle or source is not from without but from within the agent. The free act originates from myself. All this is perfectly true, but the fact remains that spontaneity and freedom are not equivalent terms: the one does not necessarily include the other. For a better understanding of the distinction, consider for a moment the various grades of beings whose activity can be called spontaneous. First, it should be noted that some actions are completely de­ void of spontaneity; these are called violent. They are imposed on a being from the outside and go against its natural inclina­ tion. In the view of the ancients, for example, lifting a stone is a “violent” action, since it is contrary to the downward pull which it is natural for a stone to exert. Such an action is in no way produced from within the thing that is moved. Opposed to violent action is movement that proceeds from within, from the nature of a being. Even here, however, a dis­ tinction must be made, as both the natural movement of living and nonliving things proceeds from within, yet there is a great difference in their respective activities. Inanimate beings do in­ deed move themselves, if by self-movement we mean that their activity springs from and is governed by an inherent principle, which is their form or nature. But form and nature are received from another, once and for all, when a thing comes into being. In tire order of action, therefore, inanimate beings are pure in­ struments, possessing self-movement or spontaneity in the quali­ fied sense that their natural activity proceeds from an intrinsic principle. Among living things, on the other hand, and especially among animals, spontaneous or self- movement reaches a much higher 210 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology degree. Since living beings are organic in nature, self-movement in them means that they are active and passive at once, one part acting on another. Their principle of movement, therefore, lies more completely within. This inherency is more pronounced in sentient than nonsentient beings, since the movement of ani­ mals qua animal results from sense knowledge, a higher imma­ nent activity than vegetative life. For their sense impressions animals, to be sure, depend on something outside, but their re­ action to these impressions hinges, in part at least, on their own evaluation of them, even though this evaluation is purely in­ stinctive, and not reflective. It is only in beings endowed with reason that spontaneous movement reaches I he point where action is free in the strict sense of the word. The root of this freedom resides in the will’s having dominion ovci the practical judgment on which its acts depend. Since I he will controls this judgment, it can determine whether it will a< I or not act, and do this or do that. Summing up, we may say that freedom of the will includes spontaneity ol ,i< lion, but spontaneity, like the absence of ex­ ternal cock mu. i . not enough to constitute free will. c) Ncccs.s<■ true if the will never desired anything of necessity. Their an . however, as St. Thomas is careful to point out, certain things regarding which the will is not free.20 But not all necessity is ol one kind; and it will help us to under­ stand what is meant by n< ccssary will if, with St. Thomas, we keep in mind the following classification of necessity: 1) Natural or absolute necessity, which follows from the na­ ture of a thing. By the very nature of a triangle, for example, its three angles must equal two right angles. 2) Necessity of the end, which means that a given end necessitates a given means, il this happens to be the only means 10 Cf. Summa theol., In, <|.8i, iin.i, 2. The Will 211 of attaining the end. In this way nourishment is necessary for life. 3) Necessity that is imposed by an external agent, so that one is compelled from without. This is the necessity of coaction, and corresponds to violent action. The application of these distinctions to the will is readily made. As remarked earlier, necessity of coaction is utterly in­ compatible with will, since what is “violent” can be neither free nor according to nature. But the other two necessities have their place in the activity of the will. The will is moved by natural necessity, since it is necessarily attracted by the good in general, or the ultimate end. It is impossible for me not to want good as such, which is to say my happiness. In this respect the will is comparable to the intellect, which necessarily adheres to first principles. Furthermore, the will is moved by necessity of the end, which means that whenever the will desires something it necessarily desires the means without which this end cannot be attained. This necessity refers especially to those means without which the ultimate end is unobtainable, such as, according to St. Thomas, existence or life itself and the desire to see God. The necessary desire to sec God, however, presupposes the ac­ quired conviction that happiness consists in the vision of God. Apart from things that arc necessarily willed, there are count­ less others that do not move the will of necessity, because even without them it is possible to arrive at whatever end one may have in mind. Between them and the end there is no necessary connection. It is in this area that we find true psychological freedom, namely, within the realm of goods which are not neces­ sarily associated with the end and which may, therefore, be willed or not willed. 2. Existence and Nature of Free Will One of the perennial questions of philosophy is whether man is really free; whether, to use St. Thomas’ phrasing of the prob- 212 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology lem, man has the power of free judgment (liberum arbitrium'). Not a few philosophers have been of the opinion that man’s will is not free. Setting their arguments aside for the moment, we shall first turn our attention to the reasons ordinarily given in favor of free will. The main ones are these three: the testi­ mony of consciousness, the nature of the free act itself, and the requirements of morality. The term “testimony of con­ sciousness” lends itself to ambiguity, and, as a matter of fact, its full implication docs not appear apart from a consideration of the nature of the fice act itself. This explains why St. Thomas does not present these two proofs as distinct arguments. We shall follow his example. a) The requirements of morality.—No free will, no morality! It would be easy lo « labórate on this theme, which, so far as it goes, docs const il ul e a most valuable argument. But whatever else may be said on this score, St. Thomas has given us the whole smii and aib.lance of it in the following terse rejoinder: “I answci lli it m.in lias free will: otherwise counsels, exhorta­ tions, commands, pioliibitions, rewards, and punishments would be in vain.” *' To this, nothing material could be added. b) The nalme <>/ the free act.—The pivotal argument for free will, howcvci, the one that stays all others, is based on the nature of the lice act ilsclf. Admittedly, it is conscious experience that reveals this act Io us, but only when this experience is put through the crucible ol metaphysical analysis does the testimony of consciousness bccomi a decisive argument. Hence, also, the custom of refen in;’, Io I lie pu scut argument as the metaphysical proof, or the proof fiom llie nature of the will. For the basic explanation of the free act St. Thomas always appeals to the rational nalme of man, particularly and more di­ rectly to his faculty ol judgment. Some beings act without the power of judgment; ollieis, through the intervention of a judg­ ment. If the judgment is inslinclive, not resulting from rational 11 Summa theol., la, q.83, n.i. The Will 213 insight, as in the case of brute animals, then there can be no freedom in the act. But if, as in the case of man, the judgment derives from deliberation and comparison instituted by reason, then the ensuing act is a product of free will. This power of free determination is possible because in contingent matters, in judg­ ments that are not intrinsically necessary, reason may take any of several opposite courses. Since human actions have to do with particular matters, and since these matters as performable are contingent realities, man’s reason can form various practical judgments concerning them, none of the judgments being de­ termined or necessary. In short, the freedom of man’s will is a necessary consequence of his rational nature. St. Thomas pre­ sents the argument as follows: Man acts from judgment, because by his apprehensive power he judges that something should be avoided or sought. But, because this judgment in the case of some particular act, is not from a natural instinct, but from some act of comparison in the reason, therefore he acts from free judgment and retains the power of being inclined to various things. For reason in contingent matters may follow oppo­ site courses. . . . Now particular operations are contingent, and therefore in such matters the judgment of reason may follow oppo­ site courses, and is not determinate to one. And forasmuch as man is rational is it necessary that man have free will.22 With respect to the subject or agent, therefore, freedom has its source in reason; with respect to the object, it lies in the con­ tingent or particular nature of the goods confronting the agent. In terms of the object we may, as St. Thomas often does, state 22 “Sed homo agit judicio, quia per vim cognoscitivam judicat aliquid esse fugiendum vel prosequendum. Sed quia judicium istud non est ex naturali instinctu in particulari operabili, sed ex collatione quadam rationis, ideo agit libero judicio, potens in diversa ferri. Ratio enim circa contingentia habet viam ad opposita. . . . Particularia autem operabilia sunt quaedam contingentia; et ideo circa ea judicium rationis ad diversa se habet, et non est determinatum ad unum. Et pro tanto necesse est quod homo sit liberi arbitrii, ex hoc ipso quod rationalis est” (Summa theol., Ia, q.83, a. 1). 214 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology the argument for free will as follows: In face of contingent or particular goods the will remains free; only the absolute or uni­ versal good necessarily moves it. These two proofs, moreover, the one from the object and the other from the rational nature of man, are complementary, since the human or free act is the product of the reciprocal application of intellect and will. As for the experience or consciousness of freedom which is often invoked as an argument for free will, this refers specifi­ cally to the awareness of the nonnecessary character of the judgments on which my eventual decision rests. I may judge that a given means would be effective for the attainment of an end in view, and so I decide upon it; but at the same time I am aware that the reason or motive which prompts me to act is not irresistible, or compulsive. The good with which I am con­ fronted is a contingent or particular good; therefore my choice cannot but be free. In a word, my consciousness of being a free agent is I lie consciousness of having a reason which judges and evaluates; it is not I lie feeling of an instinctive impulse coming, so to speak, from nowhere, as it is so often imagined.23 c) Exercise (/nd specification^—The indetermination of the will may be appio.n lied from yet another point of view. We say that an act is fice when it is not caused by a good that neces­ sarily moves the will But this absence of predetermination in the will may result from two sources, from the order of exercise and from the order of specification. For example, time may be two or more different means of arriving at a given < ml, say two different roads leading to a town I want to visit. Since there is nothing in the nature of things that compels me Io lake one road to the exclusion of the other, I am free to choose between them. This freedom to choose one thing ovei .mol Ik i means that my act is free in the order of specification. Bui even if we suppose there is only one road, I am still free, since my visiting the town, which neces23 Cf. Text XIV, “Man Ila', tree Will,” p. 286. The Will 215 sarily requires taking the only road, is a particular good, and so does not present itself as absolutely necessary. Consequently my will remains free to decide to go or not to go. And this power to will or not to will is called freedom of exercise. It scarcely needs mentioning, moreover, that both the freedom of exercise and specification rest on the contingent or particular character of the goods in question. From the standpoint of the agent, however, freedom of exercise is more basic, as even with­ out the other it is enough to guarantee freedom. But when free­ dom of exercise is lacking, no free will is possible at all; whereas when specification is not free but self-imposed and necessary, as in the case of only one means being available, the will is still free, not to choose between means, but to act or not to act. d) Election {choice) and the practical judgments—As was noted earlier in examining the various steps of the free act, intellect and will work conjointly in producing it. This reciprocal movement or determination reaches a decisive stage at the last practical judgment. Suppose that having experienced a wish for something, I decide to pursue it {intentio finis). Several means being available, I deliberate about them. Sooner or later I must decide upon one. How is this final decision made? It is made by the will, but only after the intellect has judged that this par­ ticular means should be chosen. Through the last practical judg­ ment {judicium practicum) of the intellect, I determine the means to be adopted, and through an act of the will I choose it {electio). In this process the judgment of the intellect and the choice of the will are applied concurrently. Which of the two, it may be asked, is the determining factor? The answer is that both are determining, but from different points of view. In the order of specification, I have chosen because I have judged; in the order of exercise, I have judged because I have chosen. These two steps, choice and practical judgment, are distinct; yet it is important to bear in mind that one determines the other, each in its own order. The free act, therefore, pro- 216 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology ceeds from intellect and will together. Since in the last analysis, however, the final decision is made by the will through the act of choice, we say that freedom has the will as its subject, but reason as its cause: radix libertatis sicut subjectum est voluntas, sed sicut causa est ratio.1* 3. Freedom and Determinism Despite the common opinion of mankind, which clearly ac­ knowledges the existence of free will, there have always been philosophers and schools of philosophy who, in one form or an­ other, stoutly defend the opposite view, declaring the human act inexorably determined by fate and destiny. Not all philoso­ phers, however, base I heir views on the same reasons. According to some man is not free because, as just said, he is under the rule of destiny, or because he is like a cog in the cosmic wheel, whose own movement is necessary and deter­ mined. Others believe freedom is impossible because of theo­ logical reasons, since freedom, they say, would be incompatible with divine foreknowledge or predestination. This view is not unlike the philosophy of fate or destiny. Still others allege that freedom is conliary Io the principle of causality, or to the con­ servation of cneigy, 01 more generally, it is a denial of the regu­ larity of the laws ol nature. At least from the standpoint of science, it is said. I he only acceptable conclusion is an uncom­ promising determinism. It is not our intention Io enter upon a critical examination of these and similar o|....... is. 1'his task must be left to the course in general philosophy or, preferably, to metaphysics, inasmuch as the questions raised aie mainly metaphysical and must go to metaphysics for adequate answer. There is one form of deter­ minism, however, that calls Im some special attention here, since it is more immediately com vincd with psychology. This is psy­ chological determinism, the discussion of which may help to 14 Summa theol., la llac, <|. 17, a r nd 2. The Will 217 define anew certain aspects of the doctrine of free will explained above. a) Psychological determinism.—Perhaps the best statement of this form of determinism appears in Leibnitz, whom it is customary to consult for an explanation of it. Leibnitz pro­ pounds this doctrine in connection with his criticism of the so-called theory of freedom through indifference, which Descartes had apparently enunciated and espoused before him. According to the theory of indifference free will consists in the will being completely indifferent regarding the various motives upon which choice is based. The will, therefore, is supposedly in a state of perfect equilibrium respecting all motives, and when it makes a choice it does so by an impulse that is absolutely self-initiated, and in no way conditioned by anything outside the will. The free act, then, is one that arises from such an unconditioned im­ pulse. Leibnitz was quick to see, and had lit tle difficulty in showing, that the so-called absolute indifference of the will in regard to all possible motives was a delusion. As a matter of fact, the will, as he pointed out, is attracted in different degrees by different motives, since sonic prove stronger than others. Ac­ cording to Leibnitz, however, the strongest motive must prevail, an eventuality that is only proper inasmuch as, in his view, even the divine will can but will what is best. Notwithstanding, the act of the will, he believes, remains spontaneous and is inspired by reason; consequently it still deserves to be called free. Whatever its merits or demerits on details, in general we may observe that despite the good intentions of its author, the Leibnitzian theory of free will does not succeed in avoiding outright determinism. The strongest motive necessarily prevails, even as the universe itself is the best possible. All speculation about the possibility of other choices or other worlds remains just that: idle speculation. In opposition to this and similar views it must be maintained 218 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology with St. Thomas that the will does not determine itself without motive, and, furthermore, that it is not necessarily determined by the so-called strongest motive. Indeed, the contention that the strongest motive must prevail is not founded in fact or experience, but is gratuitously asserted. What is a fact of experi­ ence is that prior to choice we find ourselves engaged in deliber­ ating over and examining various motives, all of them holding out some attraction for us. Then we single out one of them and decide to follow it. The decision taken does indeed depend upon the motive; in fact, it is because I judged this particular motive to be best in this instance that I acted upon it. But the motive prevails only because the will settled upon and chose it. Hence, it actually becomes the strongest, but only because I made and wauled it so. Consequently, in my free act there is both déterminai ion by reason and spontaneous self-determina­ tion by the will Without this appeal to both reason and will, the free a< I < an be neither safeguarded nor accounted for. b) W/iy t/ie will moves in this or that direction.—Our study of I he lice a< I has shown that it does not admit of determina­ tion by the sliongcsl motive in the Leibnitzian sense. This is not to deny, howevei, that in choosing the will may be more influenced by one motive or circumstance than by another. In De Malo St. Thomas goes into some detail regarding the rea­ sons why the will >< -.j><>u«b. to one motive rather than another.24 Considered as pi<>< < < ding from the will, which means in the order of exercise, the In e act is interiorly conditioned or moved by God alone, yet so as Io act conformably to its nature, that is, freely and not by necessity. Considered from the .landpoint of specification, however, or as depending on the intellect and exclusive of the absolute good, whose moving power over the will is absolute and neces­ sary, the free act may lake one course rather than another for any one of the following lime reasons. Either one motive has 16 Cf. q. 6, art. unica. The Will 219 become dominant, being so appraised by the intellect and ac­ cepted by the will, as when a man chooses what is suitable to health because it suits the will. Or, only one motive or circum­ stance may have been considered—a frequent occurrence. And lastly, the disposition or character of the subject may be the reason why one object interests him more than another. One who is stirred by the onrush of passion or labors under the burden of habit will naturally be inclined to so judge of the im­ pending situation as to suit his passion or habit. It is for this reason that the same object does not make the same impression on the angry man and one who is calm, on the virtuous and the corrupt, on the sick and the well. Tire ways in which emo­ tions, habits, and similar conditions influence the choice of the will are varied and infinitely complex. Ordinarily, however, such influence does not overcome the will. If wc except the cases, mentioned earlier, where specification necessitates one’s choice, and those unusual instances where the storm of passion tem­ porarily deprives an individual of the use of reason, which is his faculty of judgment, the will when confronted with particu­ lar goods always retains its essential power to determine itself or not to determine itself, to act or not to act. CONCLUSION: COMPARATIVE STANDING OF THE THOMISTIC DOCTRINE OF FREE WILL In signal agreement with that of Aristotle, the Thomistic doctrine of free will stands between two extremes, between the extreme of the indeterminism that regards the self-initiated act of the will as the product of a nonmotivated spontaneity, and the extreme of the determinism that believes the will must bend to the strongest motive. In general, though by no means in every detail, the first represents the view, say of Descartes or Bergson, and the second typifies the rationalism of the Leibnitzian era. For St. Thomas, on the other hand, free will results neither 220 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology from nonmotivated spontaneity nor from an overpowering mo­ tive; yet it includes both spontaneity and motivation, each in its own way determining the other. As more than once men­ tioned, this reciprocal determination is variously expressed as specification on the one side and exercise on the other, as prac­ tical judgment and election, or more profoundly, since they are the bases for the other relations involved, as intellect and will. Once more, then, freedom is both from will and intellect; from the will as from ils subject, and from the faculty of reason as from its cause: radix libertatis est voluntas sicut subjectum, sed sicut causa est ratio.1* We see, therefore, why St. Thomas can define free will indifferently as intellect endowed with ap­ petite, intellectus appetitivus, or—and this is perhaps better— as appetite endowed with intellect, appetitus intellectivus. In the alliance of these (wo terms, appetitive intellect and intellective appetite, is to be found whatever meaning and mystery free will provides. ••Summo lheol, In line, q.iy, a. i ad 2. + CHAPTER 10 The Human Soul I. PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS + a) Resuming the study of the soul proper.—We have already discussed the soul in general in our chapter on the nature and the degrees of vital activity.1 Among other things, we saw that the soul as such, which means any soul, may be defined in preliminary fashion as the first principle of life, since this is the notion of it that comes naturally, as it were, to the inquiring mind and is commonly accepted by all philosophy. Next, considering the soul in terms of the hylomorphic theory of substance, we found that it is the substantial form of the body, a doctrine that is not common to all philosophy but pe­ culiar to the Aristotelian school. From this interpretation of the soul, moreover, we deduced a number of its properties. Being the formal principle of a living being that is one, the soul itself of each such being must be one, and only one, in every instance; hence it is also indivisible and, in essence, present in its entirety in every part of the body. Furthermore, conformable to the gen1 Chapter 2, “Life, the Soul, and Its Activities.” 221 222 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology eral laws of physical substances, the soul must also disappear (in formal language: corrupt) when the composite substance of which it is the form disintegrates or corrupts. Apart from corruptibility, the aforesaid properties belong to all souls, including that of man. As previously noted, however, the human soul, being the principle of a higher degree of life, which is intellectual life, also enjoys special prerogatives, so that it gives evidence of differing from lower souls not merely in degree but in kind and in its very being. It is this special nature and these special prerogatives of the human soul that we must now explain more thoroughly. b) The human soul in the philosophy of Aristotle.—One of the essential contributions of Platonism was its enduring ratifica­ tion of a world of intelligible reality completely separate from matter, a world to which the human soul itself belonged. In reaction to what seemed to him an ultra-intellectualism in Plato, Aristotle, as we know, propounded his original definition of the soul as the substantial form of the body. In doing so, however, Aristotle had not, and did not pretend to have, solved the entire problem of a mind, a nous, that could be substantially united to the body and yet be purely spiritual. He was only putting it off; and as a mallei of fact we find him again raising it when he takes up the question of the intellectual activity of the soul.2 In this further consideration of the human soul Aristotle plainly acknowledges that it possesses properties revealing it to be altogether different from material realities. It was clear to him, as Anaxagoras had suggested, that the reality of the human mind must be free of all admixture, that is, devoid of all cor­ poreal natures, seeing Ibal il is in potency with respect to all forms or determinations ol such natures, and so could not be actually constituted by any of them.3 Moreover, he asserted that 2 Cf. De Anima, III, 4, 5. • Ibid., 4, 429 a 18-28. The Human Soul 223 mind considered as active or agent power is separate from matter, and it is eternal and immortal.4 In an earlier context we mentioned that the obscurity of these crucial passages on the intellect were to give rise to various in­ terpretations, the most common one before St. Thomas having been that Aristotle affirmed the existence of an intellectual prin­ ciple that was indeed spiritual, but absolutely separate from matter, and one and the same for all men. Thus, individual and personal immortality of the human soul went by the board. c) The interpretation of St. Thomas.—Like all Christian philosophers St. Thomas knew from revelation that the human soul is spiritual and personally immortal. On this there could be no compromise. We are not surprised, then, to see him give these texts of Aristotle an interpretation that salvaged not only the spirituality but also the personal immortality of the soul. In his view the soul is still the form of the body; but beyond that it has spiritual and subsistent being in every individual, and it is individually incorruptible. These points will be considered in the next portion of the present chapter, in which we treat of the nature of the human soul. The Christian tradition, however, and particularly the Au­ gustinian depositions, have greatly enhanced our knowledge of the human soul. In fact, the Christian teaching unveils the spirit world in all its breadth and depth, comprising not only the human spirit but also the angelic and the divine. We shall have to inquire, therefore, whether the human soul may not bear the mark of its kinship with the world above, and whether it may not be so constituted as to admit of participation even in the upmost life of that world. Though largely theological, philosophy can offer some preliminary answers to these ques­ tions; and this we shall do in the concluding part of the chapter. 4 Ibid., 5, 430 a 17, 24. 224 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology II. THE NATURE OF THE HUMAN SOUL Three brief statements, one implying another, sum up the es­ sential teaching as to the nature of the human soul. They are: i ) the human soul is spiritual; 2 ) it is subsistent ( that is, it can exist by itself, apart from the body); and 3) it is incorruptible. a) The human soul is spiritual.—The nature of the human soul, it will be recalled, can be known to us from its operations only, since these alone, and not the soul itself, are directly per­ ceptible. Our present interest lies in the operation that is spe­ cifically characteristic of man, intellectual understanding. The spiritual nature of this activity is seen both from its object and from its manner of apprehending the object. The object of intellectual knowledge. The intellect can know all corpon al nalmcs. This fact precludes the intellect being entitalivcly constituted of any of these natures. Hence, it is not corporeal but spiritual. St. Thomas develops this argument as follows: 11 is clear lli.it by im ins of the intellect man can have knowledge of all cor].... al tilings Now whatever knows certain things cannot have any of them in its own nature; because that which is in it naturally would impede the knowledge of anything else. Thus we observe that a sick man’s longue being vitiated by a feverish and bitter humor, is insensible to anything sweet, and everything seems bitter to it. Thcrcfoic, d the intellectual principle contained the nature of a body it would be unable to know all bodies. Now every body has its own dclei minute nature. Therefore it is impossible for the intellectual principle Io be a body? Furthermore, not only is the intellect incorporeal, but its ac­ tivity cannot be exercised through a bodily organ, because such an organ, having a delaminate nature, would again prevent the intellect from knowing, all bodies. “The determinate nature of that organ,” observes St. Thomas, “would impede knowledge 6 Summa theol., la, q.75, a 1. The Human Soul 225 of all bodies; as when a certain determinate color is not only in the pupil of the eye, but also in a glass vase, the liquid in the vase seems to be of that same color. Therefore the intellectual principle which we call the mind (mens) or the intellect has a proper (per se) operation apart from the body.” 8 The manner of apprehending the object. Tire intellect appre­ hends its object in universal and abstractive fashion, which means independently of all material conditions. Thanks, more­ over, to its abstractive process, the intellect can conceive purely spiritual realities. But it could do neither the one nor the other if in its operation it depended on matter or a material organ. For these reasons intellectual activity is purely spiritual. At this point of the argument we can apply the axiom agere sequitur esse: like operation like being, and conversely. From the spirituality of the operation, therefore, we may immediately infer the spirituality of its principle. Accordingly, the spirituality that is a necessary condition of intellectual knowledge, is re­ quired not only for the act but also for the potency producing the act and, ultimately, for the being in which the potency is rooted. b) The subsistence for substantiality') of the spiritual soul.— That the human soul is subsistent of itself, a “hoc aliquid,” as St. Thomas terms it, is also immediately deducible from the arguments for its spirituality. Briefly, the radical principle of any operation must be a subsistent being, one that does not inhere in another. But the spiritual soul, the mens, is the ultimate or radical principle in man of his intellectual, meaning spiritual, activities; consequently it is a spiritual subsistent being, which is to say a spiritual substance.7 8 Ibid. T The argument for the substantiality of the soul is sometimes put in the following, perhaps less formal, terms: Accidents must inhere in a substance, and spiritual accidents in a spiritual substance. Intellectual operations, however, are spiritual accidents; hence the soul, which is their ultimate subject of inherence, is a spiritual substance.—Translator’s note. 226 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology The subsistence or substantiality of the soul, however, raises the question whether Plato was not right in teaching that the soul is, so to speak, sufficient to itself for its operations as well as its being, and that its presence in the body is only accidental and to no advantage? If, in other words, the soul has its own act of existence, what ground is there for saying that it is also the form of the body, or that the human individual is still essentially one being and not two? The answer to this problem, as St. Thomas explains, is that subsistence may be of two kinds. It may be such as to include lhe complete species or essence, as in this stone, this plant, and Ibis man. Or it may not include the com­ plete essence, as in lhe human soul without the body. Taken as substance, therefore, lhe human soul is complete, since it can exist by itself. Taken as species or essence in relation to man it is not complete, since lhe soul alone is not the complete essence of man, bul the soul and body together. This is what St. Thomas means when he wrilcs: “It follows that the soul is a particular thing (//oc alit/uid) and that it can subsist of itself, not as a tilin'’, having a loniplclc species of its own, but as completing the human species by being the form of the body. Hence it likewise follows thaï il is both a form and a particular thing.” 8 c) The iiKniitiplilnlily of the human soul.—The incor­ ruptibility, and lin icloic the immortality of the human soul fol­ low from its spirituality and substantiality. A thing may corrupt per accidens or aci >l spirits above it, and perhaps not a little with the supreme Spiiil. St. Thomas certainly thought so, as we had some occasion to observe in speaking of the knowledge of 10 “Potest etiam hujus hi ■> " q>i signum ex hoc quod unumquodque naturaliter suo modo esse de.idi nil. Desiderium autem in rebus cognoscen­ tibus sequitur cognitionem Sensus autem non cognoscit esse nisi sub hic et nunc, sed intellectus :i | q >i «•! i< iniit esse absolute, et secundum omne tempus. Unde omne habens intellectum naturaliter desiderat esse semper. Naturale autem desiderium wm potest esse inane. Omnis igitur intellectu­ alis substantia est incorruptibilis” (Summa theol., Ia, q.75, a.6). Cf. Text XV, “The Human Soul Is Immortal,” p. 289. The Human Soul 229 the soul through itself. It is once more to the basic structure of the human soul that we now turn our attention.11 a) The intellective structure of “mens."—To designate the spiritual soul of man St. Thomas uses the term mens. Occa­ sionally he applies it to pure spirits (angels), who are called totaliter mens, but generally its meaning is confined to the in­ carnate spirit that is our soul. As to the more particular point whether this term refers merely to the intellective potency, or to the essence of the soul as well, the answer is that like the term intellectus, the word mens covers both, denoting sometimes the faculty of intellect and sometimes the intellective soul itself. In general, therefore, we may say that when St. Thomas speaks of “mens,” he means the spiritual soul as the principle of our higher, or spiritual, operations. What, then, is the inner nature or structure of “mens”? The key to this inmost realm of the soul may be found in a con­ sideration of the nature of those higher created spirits called angels. If raised to the proper degree of immateriality, any being, it should be noted, not only possesses its own form but is ca­ pable of receiving the form of other things: it is then a subject that can know. If, moreover, this being is wholly devoid of mat­ ter, it is immediately intelligible in itself. Such is the pure spirit or angel. What characterizes the angel is that he is both, and at the same time, intellect and intelligible object in act; and, be­ sides, the intelligible object which answers to his essence is im­ mediately present to his faculty of knowledge or intellect. All the conditions for the act of knowing himself are thus realized: his intelligible object is his essence, it is intelligible in act, and it is immediately present to his intellect. The angel, therefore, knows himself through his essence, per essentiam, and this es11 Those to whom it is accessible will find more detailed consideration of the nature of the soul in A. Gardeil, O.P., La structure de l’âme et l’ex­ périence mystique (Paris: Gabalda, 1927), I, 47-152. 2jo Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology sence, to repeat, is also the proper object of his faculty of knowl­ edge. Coming now to the human soul, we find both its present and its future condition comparable to the angel’s, though not to the same degree in both instances. In the state of separation the human soul thinks and knows, though still imperfectly so, in the manner of an angel. Already in this life, therefore, it must possess the power to know itself directly, at least in latent form, that is, in the manner of a habit. This, as a matter of fact, is what St. Thomas means in saying that the soul knows itself through itself by habitual knowledge. Accordingly, in so far as the human soul is a spirit, a "mens,” its distinguishing mark is to be an intelligent subject whose intelligible object (itself) is immediately present to it. In the present life of union with the body, however, Ilie a< Iiializ.ation of the radical capacity to know itself directly which lies at the heart of the soul, is impeded; it is impeded by the soul’s having to turn for its present, abstrac­ tive knowledge to sensible things. In the following quotation John of St. Tilomas gives an excellent statement of the matter at hand: As for the content ion that in the present state our soul is not objectively [i.c., as an object of knowledge] present to and united with the intellect, though it is united with it subjectively (as the source and principle ol intellect ), I will say that this objective union is already realized essentially (in specie) and virtually (in virtute), even as the state of scpaiation is already present virtually. However, this objective union is not now actually manifested, though even now it actually exists in the intellect; and the reason why it is not actually manifested lies in the soul’s having to turn to sensible things in order to know, a circumstance that prevents it from know­ ing itself immaterially purely through itself. Therefore the intellect in emanating from the soul, emanates from it both as from an in­ telligent source and as from an intelligible object, but from an ob­ ject not in this life actually manifesting its intelligibility in a purely spiritual manner and immediately through itself. For, the soul’s The Human Soul 231 immediate intelligibility is impeded by the soul’s having to turn to sensible things. Consequently, this intimate and innermost union of soul with intellect, whether in the order of being or of knowledge (tarn in ratione intellectualis, quam intelligibilis), is not evident before the state of separation.12 In fine, what this means is that while the natural condition of the soul is to be informing the body and exercising its ac­ tivities in union with the body, in principle and in latent man­ ner it already owns whatever it needs to live as a pure spirit. We find here yet another illustration of the dual nature of man, a nature that is both embodied and spiritual. In varying degrees this twofold aspect of being both body-dependent and body­ transcendent emerges at every level of his conscious life, indeed of all life, and it could not but exist at the very core of his be­ ing. b) The soul as image of God.—Ennobled as the soul of man is by its close kinship with pure spirits, it is still more splendid and glorious by another kinship which the Christian teacher may not overlook. For the soul is not only like the angels: it is like God. Did not the Creator say: “Let us make man to our image and likeness”? 12 The entire philosophy of the soul of St. Augustine, and in consequence of the Middle Ages, was inspired 12 “Ad id quod dicitur de anima nostra, quod pro praesenti statu non est praesens, et unita intellectui objective, licet sit unita subjective, et ut sustentans illum, respondetur quod pro hoc statu illa unio objectiva, et in ratione speciei ibi est in virtute, sicut status separationis ibi est in virtute, sed non in actu manifestatur, etiamsi actu jam existât in intellectu, propter conversionem ejus ad sensibilia, ex qua impeditur intelligere seipsam immaterialiter pure per seipsam. Itaque intellectus, ut emanat ab anima, emanat ut a radice intelligente, et ut ab objecto intelligibili, sed non actu manifestante intelligibilitatem suam pure spiritualiter, et per se immediate pro isto statu, sed impedita manet intelligibilitas ob conversionem ad sensibilia; et ideo illa conjunctio ad intellectum intima tam in ratione in­ tellectualis, quam intelligibilis non operatur manifestationem usque ad statum separationis” (Cursus theologicus, In lam Part., q. 55, disp.21, a. 2, n. xiii). 18 Gen. 1:26. 2^2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology and illuminated by these words of Holy Writ. St. Bonaventure above all, who was much occupied in reading the imprint and vestige of God in all creation, took special delight in tracing His image in the soul. Doubtless, this approach to the soul takes us beyond pure philosophy. We are here in the realm of faith and revelation; but, then, it must be remembered that our Christian masters of times gone by, though well aware of the difference between faith and reason, made no pretense of eliminating one or the other from their search of truth. If, then, we want a true appreciation of what they taught on the soul, as well as on other matters, we cannot limit the discussion to the domain of reason, but must penetrate the confines of revelation.14 In speaking of the soul as image of God, Christian writers and teachers attached a very particular meaning to the word. An image, for them, was not simply a likeness. Two things may be like each oilier without the one, properly speaking, being an image of the olln i. To be an image a thing has also to be the expression of anolhci, so that an image proceeds from its model or exemplar. This “procession,” moreover, must result, not merely in a distant resemblance, but in a specific likeness, ex­ pressing an authentic kinship of nature. Not all creatures, there­ fore, can be called images of God, though all bear His imprint, since they proceed I.... i I Inn. Strictly speaking, only intellectual creatures merit this title. All things below them are but “ves­ tiges” of God. Examining the mallei more closely, we discover that the intelligent creature is an image of God from two points of view, the one more profound I han the other. For, we may consider the human soul as a cic.itcd expression both of God’s one nature and of the trimly of 1 lis Persons. So far as the spiritual soul has intellectual life it is already an image of God’s nature. But we also observe in lhe soul a certain “procession” of the mental word from the intellect, and a certain “procession” of love from the will. One may therefore see in it the image of the 14 On man as the image of God sec Summa theol., la, q.93. The Human Soul 233 trinity of the divine Persons, who are distinguished by the re­ lations existing among Them, the second Person being in the relation of the Word to the Father, whose expression the Word is, and the Holy Spirit, who is Love, proceeding both from the Father and the Word. For his discussion of the soul as image of the Trinity, St. Thomas was indebted to the various analyses, both ingenious and penetrating, of the soul and its properties which he found in St. Augustine’s De Trinitate. To facilitate the direct consid­ eration of the mystery of the Trinity, as well as of other mys­ teries of God, St. Augustine tried to find analogies in the life of our own spiritual soul. If, for example, we consider the human soul from the standpoint of its potencies or habits, we meet with one analogy in the triad: mens (mind), notitia (knowl­ edge), and amor (love); and a second in the triad: memoria (memory), intelligentia (understanding), and voluntas (will). In the first, “mens” designates the potency, and “notitia” and “amor” the habits that dispose the potency to its act. In the second analogy, which is more perfect, “memoria” signifies the habitual knowledge of the soul, "intelligentia” the actual cogni­ tion proceeding from habitual knowledge, and “voluntas” the actual movement of the will proceeding from thought.15 To be sure, the true meaning of such analogies and images, which are drawn from the deepest recesses of the soul, can be seen only by the light of faith, or in terms of a psychology that is based, at least in part, on supernatural doctrine. Here, then, we have touched on a matter which, as intimated earlier, ex­ ceeds the scope of the present work. Still, in setting forth the nature of the soul according to St. Thomas it would have hardly been proper to omit all mention of that aspect which the Angelic Doctor considers its highest endowment, namely, its being the image of God even as to His hiddenmost being, and, in consequence, capable of sharing His inmost life.18 16 Cf. De Veritate, q. 10, a. 3. 18 Cf. Text XVI, “The Image of God,” p. 292. 234 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology CONCLUSION TO THE WHOLE a) To conclude this whole presentation of the soul accord­ ing to St. Thomas, may we first of all advert once more to the method followed by him. A mere glance is enough to show that the difference between his procedure and that of most modern psychologists is considerable, if not fundamental. The moderns, for the most part, do not go beyond the level of immediate ob­ servation and approximate or provisional explanation, whereas the psychology of St. Thomas rests at all points on metaphysical ground and is never completely removed from the metaphysical terrain. It seeks above all to discover the deeper aspects of hu­ man nature, and always with a view to establishing the founda­ tions of that Inf lu í hie of the soul which rightly commands the attention oí I he theologian rather than the pure philosopher. And yet, it must not be forgotten that in the Aristotelian tradition, to which Si. Thomas adheres, the study of the soul conics as a lofi< al continuation of the inquiry into the nature of physical ......... poieal being. Consequently, even though in this philosophy ol man the spiritual side of his nature eventually stands oui in hold iclicf, the fact remains that his corporeal or biological side is the shilling point for the study of the soul and never loses ils meaning or relevancy throughout the inquiry. For reasons ol hicvily, however, we have had to sharply curtail the inspection of the considerable part that empirical observa­ tion and analysis play in I he investigations of Aristotle espe­ cially, and scarcely less in I hose of his followers. Consequently, unless these limitai ions Io oui study are kept in mind, the reader could quite possibly conn away with a faulty impression. For, we have far from taken complete survey of many areas of psy­ chological exploration Iliai seriously occupied the minds of earlier masters and disciples in the tradition, such as the study of the senses and their aclivilics, or the probing of such more elusive phenomena as dreams and sleep and memory. Add to The Human Soul 235 this that these men also displayed remarkable insight in studying the moral aspects of psychological activities, notably in the analysis of the passions and emotions. Here, too, however, we have had to be satisfied with occasional and passing mention. Accordingly, set forth in all its wealth and detail, the psychology of Aristotle or St. Thomas might well present a decidedly dif­ ferent appearance. The essential form and features, however, would still be the same. b) As for the position or basic conception of the psychology of St. Thomas in relation to what came before and after, the substahce of what needs to be said, has been said. We have seen that compared with its antecedents, St. Thomas’ psychology, like that of Aristotle, takes the form of a “via media.” Plato had indeed, and none before him, succeeded in extricating the ac­ tivity of thought (nous) from the activity of sense; but he had also left behind him the complete divorce of ideas from matter, of mind from body. Aristotle kept the distinction but did not rest until he was satisfied that soul and body had been restored to substantial unity; and St. Thomas made sure that as far as he was concerned this unity should not again be destroyed. St. Thomas, however, had also to square himself with the demands put on him by the Christian teaching. With him, therefore, the higher reaches and manifestations of the soul grow in im­ portance: the soul, without ceasing to be the form of the body, finds a rightful place in the order of pure intelligences. This bifocal approach of St. Thomas to his study of the soul accounts for the fullness and the richness, but also for the com­ plexity and sometimes seeming uncertainty of the psychological doctrine he has bequeathed. Perhaps what we learn better from St. Thomas than from anyone else is that the human soul lies at the crossroads of two worlds, so that his psychology looks in two directions at once. From one side it appears extremely em­ bodied, extremely biological, resembling in no small measure the approach of modern investigation with its heavy accent on 236 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology man’s organism. From the other side it seems just the opposite, extremely disembodied, and extremely spiritual. So it is that the bilateral nature of man reveals itself at almost every turn. We see it now in the bodily dependence yet radical independence of the soul, now in the immanence yet transcend­ ence of its being and operations. Our faculties, we note, are re­ ceptive potencies, the soul having to gather its raw materials from the outside before it can begin its activity. Perforce, con­ sciousness or mental life is kindled from without. On the other hand, vital activity—the operations of the soul are manifestly such—is also immanent; in fact, its distinguishing mark is not only to proceed from within, but also to terminate in the being in which it originates. Already discernible in vegetative life, the quality of immanent or self initialed activity becomes more pronounced as one mounts the scale of life, its highest instance in man being the knowledge; ol the soul through itself. Not a few modern thinkers make much of the immanent character of the activity of the mind. It is interesting to note that St. Thomas was far from overlooking 01 minimizing this aspect of thought, which in man, however, is still impci feet. In the higher spirits life is essentially immanent, yet only in < ’»od docs it reach its absolute perfection, since His life is ull< dv mid eminently immanent. Compared with that of the angels. and even more of God, the quality of immanence in man is not realized in all respects, because his activity always depends on something other than himself: on the world of matter in the. life, and still in the next on the pri­ mordial action of God Doubtless, there exists in man a spirit in the true sense of the woid, but the natural condition of this spirit is to be in the body And if, as is true, man’s higher self is the image of God, it 1,111 :l distant one. In the body or out, the spirit of man, let alone his body, is at every moment and in every manner totally dependent on God. + Texts + THE writings of St. Thomas so abound in fine in­ stallments relating to the study of psychology that one is al­ most at a loss when attempting to draw up a list of illustra­ tive readings. Besides the Commentary on De Anima, which remains the prime source, we have in the Summa theologiae (la. qq. 75 to 89) a virtually complete exposition on the soul and its faculties and operations. Indeed, these ques­ tions from the Summa may be taken without hesitation as the best over-all account of the subject matter treated in the foregoing study; and the student who wants to have more than a nodding acquaintance with the psychology of St. Thomas could not do better than go through them care­ fully, article by article, some hundred in all. Since these questions, however, are readily available in translation,1 we 1 The questions referred to can be had in English translation in Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas, edited by A. C. Pegis (New York: Random House, 1945), and in the complete American edition of the Eng­ lish Dominican translation of the Summa theologiae (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1947).—Translator’s note. 2 37 2^8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology have chosen only two articles among them, both from the question having to do with the knowledge of material things (q. 85, aa. 1-2). From the various commentaries on Aris­ totle, in which St. Thomas generally proceeds at greater length and in greater detail than elsewhere, we have made no selections at all. By this omission we do not imply that the commentaries arc unimportant—they are supremely important; rather, this course is dictated by the practical limitations of choice in such a wealth of material. Most of our texts, then, are from the Quaestiones Dis­ putatae; for, these writings not only are replete with psy­ chological discussions, but they are usually unexcelled when it comes to handling a problem in whole. Furthermore, what wc have said as to the integral character of the psy­ chological seel ion of the Summa applies as well to the body of psychological doctrine to be found in the Quaestiones Disputatae. <■■.]»<•< ially in the Quaestio de Anima. Like the former, Hu l.illci. loo, is so extensive and so coherently arranged as to present yet another entire treatise on the soul? I. THE DEGREES OF IMMANENCE IN VITAL ACTIVITY (Contra Gentiles, IV, 11) The whole psychology of St. Thomas is built around a hierarchical conception of life. Accordingly, of all the pas­ sages that might serve as an introduction to the subject, none could be more appropriate than the following excerpt 2 The texts are reprinted in English from individual sources. These have been mentioned in the Acknowledgments at the beginning of the volume, and are again separately idcnlilud and acknowledged after each selec­ tion.—Tr. Texts 239 from the Contra Gentiles, in which the varions degrees of immanence associated with vital activity arc set forth in turn. Since, moreover, “vital” activity as here understood corresponds to “immanent” reality in the sense of the mod­ erns, it should be apparent that the directive principle of St. Thomas’ thought in the matter at hand bears significant resemblance to the thesis that was so largely to pervade the thinking of many modern philosophers, particularly in epistemology and metaphysics. (Collate with supra, “Life and the Degrees of Life,” p. 17.) Where things differ in nature we find different modes of emanation, and further, from the higher nature things proceed in a more intimate way. Now, of all things the inanimate obtain the lowest place, and from them no emanation is possible except by the action of one on another: thus, fire is engendered from fire when an extraneous body is transformed by fire, and receives the quality and form of fire. The next place to inanimate bodies belongs to plants, whence emanation proceeds from within, for as much as the plant’s in­ trinsic humor is converted into seed, which being committed to the soil grows into a plant. Accordingly, here we find the first traces of life: since living things are those which move them­ selves to act, whereas those which can only move extraneous things are wholly lifeless. It is a sign of life in plants that some­ thing within them is the cause of a form. Yet the plant’s life is imperfect because, although in it emanation proceeds from within, that which emanates comes forth by little and little, and in the end becomes altogether extraneous: thus the humor of a tree gradually comes forth from the tree and eventually be­ comes a blossom, and then takes the form of fruit distinct from the branch, though united thereto; and when the fruit is perfect it is altogether severed from the tree, and falling to the ground, 240 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology produces by its seminal force another plant. Indeed, if we con­ sider the matter carefully we shall see that the first principle of this emanation is something extraneous, since the intrinsic humor of the tree is drawn through the roots from the soil whence the plant derives its nourishment. There is yet above that of the plants a higher form of life, which is that of the sensitive soul, the proper emanation whereof, though beginning from without, terminates within. Also, the further the emanation proceeds, the more does it pene­ trate within; for the sensible object impresses a form on the ex­ ternal senses, whence it proceeds to the imagination and, further still, to the storehouse of the memory. Yet in every process of this kind of emanation, the beginning and the end are in dif­ ferent subjects; for no sensitive power reflects on itself. Where­ fore this degree of life transcends that of plants in so much as it is more intimate; and yet it is not a perfect life, since the emanation is always from one thing to another. Whercfoie the highest degree of life is that which is accord­ ing to the intellect; for the intellect reflects on itself, and can understand itself. There are, however, various degrees in the intellectual life: bec anse the human mind, though able to know itself, takes its hist steps to knowledge from without; for it cannot understand apart from phantasms, as we have already made clear (II, 50). Accordingly, intellectual life is more perfect in the angels whose’ intellect does not proceed from something extrinsic to acquire sell knowledge, but knows itself by itself. Yet their life docs not reach the highest degree of perfection because, though the intelligible species is altogether within them, it is not their very substance, because in them to under­ stand and to be arc not the same thing, as we have already shown (II, 52). Thercfoic, the highest perfection of life belongs to God, whose understanding is not distinct from His being, as we have proved (I, 45). Wherefore the intelligible species in God must be the divine essence itself. (From Contra Gentiles, Texts 241 trans, by the English Dominican Fathers. Reprinted by per­ mission of Burns Oates & Washbourne, Ltd., publishers.) II. THE HUMAN SOUL IS BOTH A FORM AND A SUBSTANTIAL INDIVIDUAL (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 1) The keystone to Aristotle’s psychology is that the soul is the substantial form of the body. To illustrate this central doctrine we have selected an extensive passage from the Quaestio Disputata de Anima, in which the point is fully discussed. It will be seen that the teaching of Aristotle is opposed both to the materialist doctrines of Empedocles and Galen and to the Platonic notion that the soul is to the body as the pilot to his ship. St. Thomas follows Aristotle in affirming that the soul is the form of the body, and states further, what is not so clear in Aristotle, that its existence is one of an independent substance. The precise question here raised, then, is twofold: Whether the soul is both a form and a determinate or particular individual, a “hoc aliquid.” St. Thomas opens the body of the article with a brief explanation of this phrase, observing that “hoc aliquid” means a substantial individual, and that this in turn implies two things, to subsist by itself and to possess a complete specific nature. Then follows the excerpt below. (Collate with supra, “The Aristotelian Definition of the Soul,” p. 24.) a) Now some men have denied that the human soul pos­ sesses these two real characteristics belonging to a particular thing by its very nature, because they said that the soul is a harmony, as Empedocles did, or a combination [of the ele­ ments], as Galen did, or something of this kind. For then the 2^2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology soul will neither be able to subsist of itself, nor will it be a complete thing belonging to a species or genus of substance, but will be a form similar only to other material forms. But this position is untenable as regards the vegetal soul, whose operations necessarily require some principle surpassing the active and passive qualities [of the elements] which play only an instrumental role in nutrition and growth, as is proved in De Anima (II, 4, 415 b 28 ff.). Moreover, a combination and a harmony do not transcend the elemental qualities. This posi­ tion is likewise untenable as regards the sentient soul, whose operations consist in receiving species separated from matter, as is shown in De Anima (II, 12, 424 a 16). For inasmuch as active and passive qualities are dispositions of matter, they do not transcend matter. Again, this position is even less tenable as regards the rational soul, whose operation consists in under­ standing, and in abstracting species not only from matter, but from all individuating conditions, this being required for the understanding of universals. However, in the case of the rational soul something of special importance must still be considered, because not only docs it receive intelligible species without mat­ ter and mat< 1i.1l conditions, but it is also quite impossible for it, in performing its propct operation, to have anything in common with a bodily organ, as though something corporeal might be an organ of understanding, just as the eye is the organ of sight, as is proved in De Anima (III, 4, 429 a 10-26). Thus the in­ tellective soul, inasmuch as it performs its proper operation without communicating in any way with the body, must act of itself. And because a thing acts so far as it is actual, the intel­ lective soul must have a complete act of existing in itself, de­ pending in no way on the body. For forms whose act of existing depends on matter or on a subject do not operate of themselves. Heat, for instance, docs not act, but something hot. b) For this reason the lat< 1 Greek philosophers came to the Texts 243 conclusion that the intellective part of the soul is a self-subsisting thing. For the Philosopher says, in De Anima (III, 5, 430 a 24), that the intellect is a substance, and is not corrupted. The teach­ ing of Plato, who maintains that the soul is incorruptible and subsists of itself in view of that fact that it moves itself, amounts to the same thing. For he took ‘motion’ in a broad sense to sig­ nify every operation; hence he understands that the soul moves itself because it acts by itself. But elsewhere Plato maintained that the human soul not only subsisted of itself, but also had the complete nature of a species. For he held that the complete nature of the [human] species is found in the soul, saying that a man is not a composite of soul and body, but a soul joined to a body in such a way that it is re­ lated to the body as a pilot is to a ship, or as one clothed to his clothing. However, this position is untenable, because it is obvious that the soul is the reality which gives life to the body. Moreover, to have life is the act of existing of living things. Consequently the soul is that which gives the human body its act of existing. Now a form is of this nature. Therefore the human soul is the form of the body. But if the soul were in the body as a pilot in a ship, it would give neither the body nor its parts their specific nature. The contrary of this is seen to be true, because, when the soul leaves the body, the body’s individual parts retain their original names only in an equivocal sense. For the eye of a dead man, like the eye of a portrait or that of a statue, is called an eye equivocally; and similarly for the other parts of the body. Fur­ thermore, if the soul were in the body as a pilot in a ship, it would follow that the union of soul and body would be an acci­ dental one. Then death, which brings about their separation, would not be a substantial corruption; which is clearly false. c) So it follows that the soul is a particular thing and that it can subsist of itself, not as a thing having a complete species of 244 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology its own, but as completing the human species by being the form of the body. Hence it likewise follows that it is both a form and a particular thing. Indeed, this can be shown from the order of natural forms. For we find among the forms of lower bodies that the higher a form is, the more it resembles and approaches higher princi­ ples. This can be seen from the proper operation of forms. For the forms of the elements, being lowest, and nearest to matter, possess no operation surpassing their active and passive qualities, such as rarefaction and condensation, and the like, which appear to be material dispositions. Over and above these forms are those of the mixed bodies, and these forms have, in addition to the above-mentioned operations, a certain activity consequent upon their species, which they receive from the celestial bodies. The magnet, for instance, attracts iron not because of its heat or its cold or anything of this sort, but because it shares in the powers of the heavens. Again, surpassing these forms are the souls of plants, which resemble not only the forms of earthly bodies but also the movéis oí the celestial bodies inasmuch as they are prin­ ciples of a certain motion through themselves being moved. Still higher arc brute beasts’ forms, which resemble a substance moving a celestial body not only because of the operation whereby they move their bodies, but also because they are capa­ ble of knowledge, all I... ph their knowledge is concerned merely with material things and belongs to the material order, for which reason they require bodily organs. Again, over and above these forms, and in the highest place, are human souls, which resemble superior substances even with respect to the kind of knowledge they possess, because they arc capable of knowing immaterial things by their act of intellection. However, human souls differ from superior substances ma.much as the human soul’s intel­ lective power, by its veiy nature, must acquire its immaterial knowledge from the knowledge of material things attained through the senses. Texts 245 d) Consequently the human soul’s mode of existing can be known from its operation. For, inasmuch as the human soul has an operation transcending the material order, its act of existing transcends the body and does not depend on the body. Indeed, inasmuch as the soul is naturally capable of acquiring immate­ rial knowledge from material things, evidently its species can be complete only when it is united to a body. For a thing’s species is complete only if it has the things necessary for the proper operation of the species. Consequently, if the human soul, inas­ much as it is united as a form to the body, has an act of existing which transcends the body and does not depend on it, obviously the soul itself is established on the boundary line dividing corpo­ real from separate substances. (From The Soul, trans, by John P. Rowan. Reprinted by permission of B. Herder Book Co., pub­ lishers.) III. INTERNAL SENSES AND EXTERNAL SENSES (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 13, ca. medium) In this article St. Thomas gives a synoptic description of the powers of the soul, ranging from the vegetative degree of life to that of the intellect. We have picked the portion relating to the four internal senses and the five external senses. The existence of these two distinct groups of facul­ ties of sense knowledge, and the number in each, have in the first instance to be gathered from experience, so that if here, as is readily seen, St. Thomas evolves his classification in a priori fashion, he is not suggesting that this analytical or deductive presentation has no regard to experience. And if his analysis of the several modifications pertaining, each, to a distinctive type of sensory experience, should seem to smack of a bygone simplification, there can be no com­ parable demurring in respect of the basic and abiding dis- 2^.6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology tinction, thoroughly made clear, between a strictly psycho­ logical response and its attendant bodily changes. The reader should note, moreover, that the Latin “immutatio,” which signifies the qualitative alteration peculiar to a know­ ing subject, is rendered in the following selection by “modi­ fication.” (Collate with supra, “The External Senses,” p. 51, and “The Internal Senses, p. 69.) a) Five things arc required for the perfect sense knowledge which an animal should have. First, that sense receive species from sensible things, and this pertains to the proper sense. Sec­ ondly, that the animal make some judgment about the sensible qualities received, and distinguish them one from another, and this must be done by a power to which all sensible qualities ex­ tend. This power is called the “common sense.” Thirdly, that the species of sensible things which have been received be re­ tained. Now an animal needs to apprehend sensible things not only when they ate present, but also after they have disappeared. And il is necessary I hat this also be attributed to some power. For in corporeal things there is one principle that receives, and another that telains, because things which are good recipients are sometimes poot retainers. This power is called imagination or “phantasy.” In the fourth place, the animal must know cer­ tain intentions whit h sense [i.e., the external sense] does not apprehend, such as the harmful, the useful, and so on. Man, in­ deed, acquires a knowledge of these by investigation and by in­ ference, but other animals, by a certain natural instinct. So, for example, the sheep flees naturally from the wolf as something harmful. Hence in animals other than man a natural estimative power is directed to this end, but in man there is a cogitative power which collates particular intentions. That is why it is called both particular reason and passive intellect [not to be con­ fused with possible intellect. a spiritual power]. In the fifth place, it is necessary that those things which were first apprehended by Texts 247 sense and conserved interiorly, be recalled again to actual con­ sideration. This belongs to a memorative power, which operates without any investigation in the case of some animals, but with investigation and study in the case of men. Therefore in men there is not only memory but also reminiscence. Moreover it was necessary that a power distinct from the others be directed to this end, because the activity of the other sentient powers en­ tails a movement from things to the soul, whereas the activity of the memorative power entails an opposite movement from the soul to things. But diverse movements require diverse motive principles, and motive principles are called powers. b) Now because the proper sense, which is first in the order of sentient powers, is modified immediately by sensible objects, it was necessary for it to be divided into different powers in ac­ cordance with the diversity of sensible modifications. For the grade and order of modifications by which the senses are altered by sensible qualities, must be considered in relation to immate­ rial modifications, because sense is receptive of sensible species without matter. Hence there are some sensible objects whose species, although they arc received immaterially in the senses, still cause a material modification in sentient animals. Now qualities which are also principles of change in material things are of this sort, for instance, hot and cold, wet and dry, and the like. Hence, because sensible qualities of this kind also modify us by acting upon us, and because material modification is made by contact, it was necessary that such sensible qualities be sensed by making contact with them. This is the reason why the sensory power experiencing such qualities is called touch. However, there are some sensible qualities which do not, in­ deed, change us materially, although their modification has a material modification connected with it. This occurs in two ways. First, in this way, that the material modification affects the sensible quality as well as the one sensing. This pertains to taste. For, although the taste of a thing does not change the sense 2^8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology organ by making it the tasted thing itself, nevertheless this modi­ fication does not occur without some change taking place in the thing tasted as well as in the organ of taste, and particularly as a result of moisture. Secondly, in this way, that the material modification affects the sensible quality alone. Now modification of this sort is caused either by a dissipation and alteration of the sensible object, as occurs, for instance, in the sense of smell, or by a local change only, as occurs in the case of hearing. So it is that hearing and smell sense not by contact with an object, but through an extrinsic medium, because they occur without a ma­ terial modification on the side of the one sensing, although ma­ terial modification does take place in the sensible object. But, taste senses by contact only, because it requires a material modification in the one sensing. Furthermore, there arc other sensible qualities which modify a sense without a material modification being involved, such as light and color, and the sense which apprehends these is sight. Hence sight is the noblest of all the senses and extends to more objects than the other senses, because the sensible qualities per­ ceived by it arc common both to corruptible and incorruptible bodies. (From The Soul, trans, by John P. Rowan. Reprinted by permission of B. Ilcidci Book Co., publishers.) IV. DIVISIONS OF APPETITE (De Veritate, q. 25, a. 1, ca. medium) Question 25 of De Veritate treats of “sensuality,” mean­ ing sensitive appetite. In the first article of the question St. Thomas gives a clear-cut explanation of the difference be­ tween: 1) natural appetite, 2) sensitive appetite, and 3) rational appetite or will. The importance of these notions justifies the inclusion of the present selection. (Collate with supra, “Divisions of Appetite,” p. 80.) Texts 24g Sense appetite stands midway between natural appetite and the higher, rational appetite, which is called will. This can be seen from the fact that in any object of appetite there are two aspects which can be considered: the thing itself which is de­ sired, and the reason for its desirability, such as pleasure, utility, or something of the sort. a) Natural appetite tends to the appetible thing itself without any apprehension of the reason for its appetibility; for natural appetite is nothing but an inclination and ordination of the thing to something else which is in keeping with it, like the ordi­ nation of a stone to a place below. But because a natural thing is determined in its natural existence, its inclination to some de­ termined thing is a single one. Hence there is not required any apprehension by which an appetible thing is distinguished from one that is not appetible on the basis of the reason for its appeti­ bility. But this apprehension is a prerequisite in the one who established the nature, who gave to each nature its own inclina­ tion to a thing in keeping with itself. b) The higher appetite, the will, however, tends directly to the very reason for appetibility itself in an absolute way. Thus the will tends primarily and principally to goodness itself, or utility, or something like that. It tends to this or that appetible thing, however, secondarily, inasmuch as it shares in the abovementioned reason. This is because a rational nature has a ca­ pacity so great that an inclination to one determinate thing would not be sufficient for it, but it has need of a number of dif­ ferent things. For that reason its inclination is to something com­ mon found in many things; and so by the apprehension of that common aspect it tends to the appetible thing in which it knows that this aspect is to be sought. c) The lower appetite of the sensitive part, called sensuality, tends to the appetible thing itself as containing that which con­ stitutes the reason for its appetibility. It does not tend to the reason for the appetibility in itself because the lower appetite 250 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology does not tend to goodness or utility or pleasure itself, but to this particular useful or pleasurable thing. In this respect the sense appetite is lower than the rational appetite. But because it does not tend only to this or only to that thing, but to every being which is useful or pleasurable to it, it is higher than natural ap­ petite. For this reason it too has need of an apprehension by which to distinguish the pleasurable from what is not pleasur­ able. It is a manifest sign of this distinction that natural appetite is under necessity in regard to the thing to which it tends, as a heavy body necessarily tends to a place downward; whereas sense appetite docs not lie under any necessity in regard to a particular thing before it is apprehended under the aspect of the pleasur­ able or the useful, but of necessity goes out to it once it is ap­ prehended as pleasurable (for a brute animal is unable, while looking at something pleasurable, not to desire it); but the will is under necessity in regard to goodness and utility itself (for man of necessity wills good), but is not under any necessity in regard to this or that particular thing, however much it may be appre­ hended as good or useful. This is so because each power has some kind of necessary r< lat ionship to its proper object. From this it can he understood that the object of natural ap­ petite is this thing inasmuch as it is of this particular kind; that of sense appetite is this thing inasmuch as it is agreeable or pleasurable (as watci inasmuch as it is agreeable to taste, and not inasmuch as it is watci ); and the proper object of the will is good itself taken absolutely. (From Truth, III, trans, by Robert W. Schmidt, S.J. Reprinted by permission of Henry Regnery Com­ pany, publishers.) V. THE BASIS OF INTELLECTION (De Veritate, q. 2, a. 2) St. Thomas’ best passages on why some beings can know and others not, are found in his discussion of God’s knowl- Texts 251 edge. One of these passages occurs in the Summa theologiae (la, q. 14, a. 1), but the most explicit text, reproduced be­ low, appears in the De Veritate, q. 2, a. 2. In its essentials the doctrine unfolded in these paragraphs traces back to Aristotle, who himself had understood that knowledge and knowableness go hand in hand with immateriality, and had defined knowledge as an event in which subject becomes object in a unique manner. St. Thomas, however, availing himself of certain contributions from Averroes, adds con­ siderable depth and development to the Aristotelian ac­ count of the matter. (Collate with supra, “The Nature of Knowledge in General,” p. 93.) When it is said that a being knows itself, it is implicitly said to be both knower and the known. Hence, in order to consider what kind of knowledge God has of Himself, we have to see what kind of a nature it is that can be both knower and known. Note, therefore, that a thing is perfect in two ways. First, it is perfect with respect to the perfection of its act of existence, which belongs to it according to its own species. But, since the specific act of existence of one thing is distinct from the specific act of existence of another, in every created thing of this kind, the perfection falls short of absolute perfection to the extent that that perfection is found in other species. Consequently, the perfection of each individual thing considered in itself is imper­ fect, being a part of the perfection of the entire universe, which arises from the sum total of the perfections of all individual things. In order that there may be some remedy for this imperfection, another kind of perfection is to be found in created things. It consists in this, that the perfection belonging to one thing is found in another. This is the perfection of a knower in so far as he knows; for something is known by a knower by reason of the fact that the thing known is, in some fashion, in the possession 2$2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology of the knower. Hence, it is said in De Anima (III, 5, 430 a 14) that the soul is, in some manner, all things, since its nature is such that it can know all things. In this way it is possible for the perfection of the entire universe to exist in one thing. The ulti­ mate perfection which the soul can attain, therefore, is, accord­ ing to the philosophers, to have delineated in it the entire order and causes of the universe. This they held to be the ultimate end of man. We, however, hold that it consists in the vision of God; for, as Gregory says, “What is there that they do not see who see Him who sees all things?” (Dialogues, IV, 33). Moreover, the pci feel ion of one thing cannot be in another according to the dclci mined act of existence which it has in the thing itself. I lence, if wc wish to consider it in so far as it can be in another, we must consider it apart from those things which determine it by their very nature. Now, since forms and per­ fections of things arc made determinate by matter, a thing is knowable in so lai as it is separated from matter. For this rea­ son, the subject in which these perfections are received must be immaterial; tor, if it were material, the perfection would be re­ ceived in it according, Io a determinate act of existence. It would, accordingly, not be in the intellect in a state in which it is know­ able, that is, in the way in which the perfection of one thing can be in another. Hence, those ancient philosophers erred who asserted that like is known by like, meaning by this that the soul, which knows all things, is malciially constituted of all things: its earth knows the earth, its walei knows water, and so forth. They thought that the perfer I ....... the thing known had the same de­ termined act of existence in the knower as it has in its own nature. But the form of the thing known is not received in this way in the knower. As the ( Commentator remarks (Averroes, In De Anima, III, comm. 17 & 18), forms are not received in the possible intellect in the same way in which they are received in first matter, for a thing must be received by a knowing in­ tellect in an immaterial way. 253 Texts For this reason, we observe, a nature capable of knowing is found in things in proportion to their degree of immateriality. Plants and things inferior to plants can receive nothing in an immaterial way. Accordingly, they are entirely lacking in the power of knowing, as is clear from De Anima (II, 424 a 32 ff.). A sense, however, can receive species without matter although still under the conditions of matter; but the intellect receives its species entirely purified of such conditions. There is likewise a hierarchy among knowable things; for, as the Commentator says (In Metaph., II, comm. 1), material things are intelligible only because we make them intelligible; they are merely potentially intelligible and are made actually intelligible by the light of the agent intellect, just as colors are made actually visible by the light of the sun. But immaterial things are intelligible in themselves. Hence, although less known to us, they are better known in the order of nature. Since God, being entirely free of all potentiality, is at the ex­ treme of separation from matter, it follows that He is most knowing and most knowable. (From Truth, I, trans, by Robert W. Mulligan, S.J. Reprinted by permission of Henry Regnery Company, publishers.) VI. THE HUMAN INTELLECT IS AN ABSTRACTIVE FACULTY (la, q. 85, a. 1) The comer stone in the Aristotelian doctrine of intellec­ tual knowledge is the theory of abstraction, for in this theory lies the answer to the crucial problem regarding the origin of such knowledge and its relationship to sense knowledge. The importance of this theory is reason enough for presenting the complete text—objections, body, and re­ plies—of the above-indicated article of the Summa the­ ologiae, which is a locus classicus to the discussion. Meriting 254 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology particular attention are the reply to the first objection, which explains the difference between abstraction relevant to judgment and abstraction attendant on simple appre­ hension; and the reply to the second objection, which de­ fines the degrees of abstraction. (Collate with supra, “Defi­ nition of the Proper Object of the Human Intellect,” p. m.) Whether Our Intellect Understands Corporeal and Material Things by Abstraction from Phantasms? Objection i. It would seem that our intellect does not under­ stand corporeal and material things by abstraction from the phantasms, For the intellect is false if it understands an object otherwise than as it really is. Now the forms of material things do not exist as abstracted from the particular things represented by the phantasms. Therefore, if we understand material things by abstraction of the species from the phantasm, there will be error in the intellect. Obj. 2. Further, material things are those natural things which include matter in theii definition. But nothing can be under­ stood apart from that which enters into its definition. There­ fore material things cannot be understood apart from matter. Now matter is the principle of individualization. Therefore ma­ terial things cannot be understood by abstraction of the uni­ versal from the particular, which is the process through which the intelligible species is abstracted from the phantasm. Obj. 3. Further, the Philosopher says (De Anima, III, 7, 431 a 15 ff.) that the phantasm is Io the intellectual soul what color is to the sight. But seeing is not caused by abstraction of species from color, but by color impressing itself on the sight. Therefore neither does the act of understanding take place by abstraction Texts 255 of something from the phantasm, but by the phantasm im­ pressing itself on the intellect. Obj. 4. Further, the Philosopher says (De Anima, III, 5, 450 a 13 ff.) there are two things in the intellectual soul—the pas­ sive intellect and the active intellect. But it does not belong to the passive intellect to abstract the intelligible species from the phantasm, but to receive them when abstracted. Neither does it seem to be the function of the active intellect, which is re­ lated to the phantasm as light is to color; since light does not abstract anything from color, but rather streams on to it. There­ fore in no way do we understand by abstraction from phantasms. Obj. 5. Further, the Philosopher says (ibid., 7, 431 b 1 ff.) that the intellect understands the species in the phantasm; and not, therefore, by abstraction. On the contrary, the Philosopher says (ibid., 4, 439 a 5 if.) that things are intelligible in proportion as they are separable from matter. Therefore material things must needs be under­ stood according as they are abstracted from matter and from material images, namely, phantasms. I answer that, as stated above (Q. 84, a. 7), the object of knowledge is proportionate to the power of knowledge. Now there are three grades of the cognitive powers. For one cognitive power, namely, the sense, is the act of a corporeal organ. And therefore the object of every sensitive power is a form as existing in corporeal matter. And since such matter is the principle of individuality, therefore every power of the sensitive part can have knowledge only of the individual. There is another grade of cognitive power which is neither the act of a corporeal organ, nor in any way connected with corporeal matter; such is the angelic intellect, the object of whose cognitive power is there­ fore a form existing apart from matter: for though angels know material things, yet they do not know them save in something immaterial, namely, either in themselves or in God. But the human intellect holds a middle place: for it is not the act of 2^6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology an organ, yet it is a power of the soul which is the form of the body, as is clear from what we have said above (Q. 76, a. 1). And therefore it is proper to it to know a form existing indi­ vidually in corporeal matter, but not as existing in this individual matter. But to know what is in individual matter, not as ex­ isting in such matter, is to abstract the form from individual matter which is represented by the phantasms. Therefore we must needs say that our intellect understands material things by abstracting from the phantasms; and through material things thus considered we acquire some knowledge of immaterial things, just as, on the contrary, angels know material things through the immaterial. But Plato, considering only the immateriality of the human intellect, and not ils being in a way united to the body, held that the objects of I lie intellect are separate ideas; and that we understand not by abstraction, but by participating things ab­ stract, as staled above (Q. 84, a. 1). Reply Obj. 1. Abstraction may occur in two ways: First, by way of composition and division; thus we may understand that one thin,'', docs ii<>l exist in some other, or that it is separate therefrom. Sc< ondly, by way of simple and absolute considera­ tion; thus wc iindeisland one thing without considering the other. Thus for the intellect to abstract, one from another, things which are not really abstract from one another, does, in the first mode of abstriction, imply falsehood. But, in the second mode of absl ia< I ion, lor the intellect to abstract things which are not really absliacl from one another, does not in­ volve falsehood, as clcaily appears in the case of the senses. For if we understood or said I liai color is not in a colored body, or that it is separate from il, I line would be error in this opinion or assertion. But if we consider color and its properties, without reference to the apple wlm h r. 1 olorcd; or if we express in word what we thus understand, tin ic is no error in such an opinion Texts 257 or assertion, because an apple is not essential to color, and therefore color can be understood independently of the apple. Likewise, the things which belong to the species of a material thing, such as a stone, or a man, or a horse, can be thought of apart from the individualizing principles which do not belong to the notion of the species. This is what we mean by abstracting the universal from the particular, or the intelligible species from the phantasm; that is, by considering the nature of the species apart from its individual qualities represented by the phantasms. If, therefore, the intellect is said to be false when it understands a thing otherwise than as it is, that is so, if the word otherwise refers to the thing understood; for the intellect is false when it understands a thing otherwise than as it is; and so the intellect would be false if it abstracted the species of a stone from its matter in such a way as to regard the species as not existing in matter, as Plato held. But it is not so, if the word otherwise be taken as referring to the one who understands. For it is quite true that the mode of understanding, in one who understands, is not the same as the mode of a thing in existing: since the thing understood is immaterially in the one who understands, according to the mode of the intellect, and not materially, ac­ cording to the mode of a material thing. Reply Obj. 2. Some have thought that the species of a natural thing is a form only, and that matter is not part of the species. If that were so, matter would not enter into the definition of natural things. Therefore it must be said otherwise, that matter is twofold, common, and signate or individual; common, such as flesh and bone; and individual, as this flesh and these bones. The intellect therefore abstracts the species of a natural thing from the individual sensible matter, but not from the common sensible matter; for example, it abstracts the species of man from this flesh and these bones, which do not belong to the species as such, but to the individual [cf. Metaph. E, 1, 1025 b 32 ff.], 2^8 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology and need not be considered in the species: whereas the species of man cannot be abstracted by the intellect from flesh and bones. Mathematical species, however, can be abstracted by the in­ tellect from sensible matter, not only from individual, but also from common matter; not from common intelligible matter, but only from individual [intelligible] matter. For sensible matter is corporeal matter as subject to sensible qualities, such as being cold or hot, hard or soft, and the like: while intelligible matter is substance as subject to quantity. Now it is manifest that quan­ tity is in substance before other sensible qualities are. Hence quantities, such as number, dimension, and figures, which are the terminations of quantity, can be considered apart from sen­ sible qualities; and this is to abstract them from sensible matter; but they cannot be considered without understanding the sub­ stance which is subject to the quantity; for that would be to abstract them from common intelligible matter. Yet they can be considered ripait from this or that substance; for that is to abstract them from individual intelligible matter. But some things can be abstracted even from common intelligible matter, such as being, unity, power, act, and the like; all these can exist without matter, as is plain regarding immaterial things. Because Plato failed to considi a the twofold kind of abstraction, as above explained (ad i), he held that all those things which we have stated to be abstracted by the intellect, are abstract in reality. Reply Obj. 3. Colors, as being in individual corporeal matter, have the same mode of existence as the power of sight: and therefore they can impress their own image on the eye. But phantasms, since they arc images of individuals, and exist in corporeal organs, have not the same mode of existence as the human intellect, and therefore have not the power of themselves to make an impression on the passive intellect. This is done by the power of the active intellect, which by turning towards the phantasm produces in the passive intellect a certain likeness 25g Texts which represents, as to its specific conditions only, the thing re­ flected in the phantasm. It is thus that the intelligible species is said to be abstracted from the phantasm; not that the iden­ tical form which previously was in the phantasm is subsequently in the passive intellect, as a body transferred from one place to another. Reply Obj. 4. Not only does the active intellect throw light on the phantasm; it does more; by its own power it abstracts the intelligible species from the phantasm. It throws light on the phantasm, because, just as the sensitive part acquires a greater power by its conjunction with the intellectual part, so by the power of the active intellect the phantasms arc made more fit for the abstraction therefrom of intelligible intentions. Further­ more, the active intellect abstracts the intelligible species from the phantasm, forasmuch as by the power of the active intellect we are able to disregard the conditions of individuality, and to take into our consideration the specific nature, the image of which informs the passive intellect. Reply Obj. 5. Our intellect both abstracts the intelligible species from the phantasms, inasmuch as it considers the natures of things in universal, and, nevertheless, understands these na­ tures in the phantasms, since it cannot understand even the things of which it abstracts the species, without turning to the phantasms, as we have said above (Q. 84, a. 7). (Reprinted from The Summa Theologica with the permission of Benziger Brothers, Inc., publishers and copyright owners.) VII. THE AGENT INTELLECT The following readings on the agent intellect may be taken simply as a further development of the preceding article. The point is that if there is to be abstraction, the soul needs to have an active power of intellect which can refine, as it were, the sensible object of its material condr 2Óo Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology Hons and so bring it to the necessary level of immateriality. This is the burden of the first passage (A), which presents the body of article 4 of the Quaestio Disputata de Anima. It will be remembered, however, that Aristotle’s remarks on the active power of the intellect were not altogether conclusive in meaning, so that succeeding commentators debated whether the agent intellect was separate and, in consequence, one for all men. Indeed, most of them before St. Thomas, it will also be recalled, answered in the affirma­ tive. For many reasons St. Thomas could not subscribe to such an interpretation; and his discussion of the matter is set forth in the second passage (B), taken from article 5 of the same question on the soul. It should be mentioned, moreover, that the principal target of his comments in arti­ cle 5 is Avicenna, according to whom the agent intellect, the lowest of the separate intelligences, was the immediate source and giver not only of natural forms to terrestrial bodies, bul also of their corresponding intelligible forms or species to the possible intellect of man. (Collate with supra, “Tire Agent Intellect and the Abstraction of the Intelligible Species,” p. 123.) A. The Existence of the Agent Intellect (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 4) I answer: We must admit that an agent intellect exists. To make this evident we must observe that, since the possible in­ tellect is in potency to intelligibles, the intelligibles themselves must move [i.e., actuate] the possible intellect. But that which is nonexistent cannot move anything. Moreover, the intelligible as such, that which the possible intellect understands, does not exist in reality; for our possible intellect understands something Texts 261 as though it were a one-in-many and common to many [i.e., universal]. However, such an entity is not found subsisting in reality, as Aristotle proves in the Metaphysics (Z [VII], 13, 1038 b 8 ff. ). Therefore, if the possible intellect has to be moved by an intelligible, this intelligible must be produced by an in­ tellective power. And since it is impossible that what exists should be in potency in regard to something produced by it, we must admit that an agent intellect exists, in addition to the possible intellect, and that this agent intellect causes the actual intelligibles which actuate the possible intellect. Moreover, it produces these intelligibles by abstracting them from matter and from material conditions which are the principles of individua­ tion. And since the nature as such of the species does not possess these principles by which the nature is given a multiple existence among different things, because individuating principles of this sort are distinct from the nature itself, the intellect will be able to receive this nature apart from all material conditions, and consequently will receive it as a unity [i.e., as a one-in-many]. For the same reason the intellect receives the nature of a genus by abstracting from specific differences, so that it is a one-inmany and common to many species. However, if universals subsisted in reality in virtue of them­ selves, as the Platonists maintained, it would not be necessary to admit that an agent intellect exists; because things which are intelligible in virtue of their own nature move the possible intellect. Therefore it appears that Aristotle was led by this necessity to posit an agent intellect, because he did not agree with the opinion of Plato on the question of Ideas. Nevertheless there are some subsistent things in the real order which are actual intelligibles in virtue of themselves; the immaterial sub­ stances, for instance, are of this nature. However, the possible intellect cannot attain a knowledge of these immediately, but acquires its knowledge of them through what it abstracts from material and sensible things. (From The Soul, trans, by John 2Ô2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology P. Rowan. Reprinted, with slight alterations, by permission of B. Herder Book Co., publishers.) B. The Agent Intellect Is Neither Separate Nor One and the Same for All (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 5) I answer: It is obviously more reasonable to maintain that the agent intellect is unique and separate, than to hold that this is true of the possible intellect. For the possible intellect, in virtue of which we arc capable of understanding, is some­ times in potency and sometimes in act. The agent intellect, on the other hand, is that which makes us actually understanding. Now an agent exists in separation from the things which it brings into actuality, but obviously whatever makes a thing po­ tential is wholly within that thing. a) Contrary opinions.—For this reason many maintained that the agent intellect is a separate substance, and that the possible intellect is a part of our soul. Furthermore they held that this agent intellect is a specific kind of separate substance, which they call an intelligence. They held that it is related to our souls, and to the entiic sphere of active and passive qualities [i.e., the terrestrial sphere], as superior separate substances (which they also call intelligences) arc related to the souls of the ce­ lestial bodies (for they considered these to be animated), and to the celestial bodies themselves. Hence they maintained that, as superior bodies receive I licit motion from these separate sub­ stances, and the souls of the heavenly bodies their intelligible perfections, so also do all the bodies of this inferior sphere re­ ceive their forms and movements from the separate agent in­ tellect, while our soul receives its intelligible perfections from it. But because the Catholic faith maintains that God is the agent operating in nature and in our souls, and not some sep­ arate substance, some Catholics asserted that the agent intellect Texts 263 is God Himself, who is “the true Light that enlightens every man who comes into this world” (John 1:9). b) 1st refutation.—But this position, if anyone examines it carefully, is seen to be implausible, because the superior sub­ stances are related to our souls as celestial bodies are to inferior bodies. For, as the powers of superior bodies are certain universal active principles in relation to inferior bodies, so also are the divine power and the powers of different secondary substances (if the latter do influence us in any way) related to our souls as universal active principles. However, we see that there must exist in addition to the uni­ versal active principles of the celestial bodies, certain particular active principles which are powers of inferior bodies, limited to the proper operation of each and every one of them. This is particularly necessary in the case of perfect animals, because certain imperfect animals are found, for whose production the power of a celestial body suffices, as is evident in the case of animals generated from decomposed matter. However, in the generation of perfect animals a special power is also required in addition to the celestial power, and this power is present in the seed. Therefore, since intellectual operation is the most per­ fect thing existing in the entire order of inferior bodies, we need in addition to universal active principles (namely, the power of God enlightening us, or the powers of any other separate sub­ stance) an active principle existing within us by which we are enabled to understand actually. This power is the agent intel­ lect. c) 2nd refutation.—We must also consider this, that if the agent intellect is held to exist as a separate substance along with God, a consequence repugnant to our faith will follow: namely, that our ultimate perfection and happiness consist not in a certain union of our soul with God, as the Gospel teaches, saying: “This is life eternal, that you may know the true God” (John 17:3), but with some other separate substance. For it is 264 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology evident that man’s ultimate beatitude or happiness depends upon his noblest operation, intellection, which operation, in order to be fully completed, requires the union of our possible intellect with its active principle. For, indeed, anything passive in any way whatever is perfected [i.e., fully actuated] only when joined with the proper active principle which is the cause of its perfection. Therefore those maintaining that the agent in­ tellect is a substance existing apart from matter, say that man’s ultimate happiness consists in being able to know the agent intellect. d) 3rd refutation.—Moreover, if we give the matter further careful consideration, wc shall find that the agent intellect can­ not be a separate substance for the same reason that the possible intellect cannot be, as was shown (cf. arts. 1, 2, and 3). For, as the operation oí the possible intellect consists in receiving in­ telligible [species], so also does the proper operation of the agent intellect consist in abstracting them, for it makes them actually intelligible in tins way. Now we experience both of these opera­ tions in om selves, because we receive our intelligible species, and abstract them as well I lowcver, in anything that operates there must be some [orinal pi incipio whereby it operates formally, be­ cause a thing cannot opcaatc formally through something that possesses existence distinct from itself. But, although the mo­ tive principle of an activity [i.e., an efficient cause] is separate from the thing which it < air.es, nevertheless there must be some intrinsic principle whcicby a thing operates formally, whether it be a form or some soit of impression. Therefore there must exist within us a formal piineiple through which we receive in­ telligible species, and one whereby we abstract them. These principles are called the possible and the agent intellect respec­ tively. Consequently each exists within us. Moreover, [the formal intrinsic existence in ns of the agent intellect] is not ac­ counted for simply by the lad (hat the action of the agent Texts 265 intellect, namely, the abstracting of intelligible species, is carried out through phantasms illumined in us by its action. For every object produced by art is the effect of the action of an artificer, the agent intellect being related to the phantasms illumined by it as an artificer is to the things made by his art. d) Coexistence in the soul of both intellects.—Now it is not difficult to see how both of these can be present in one and the same substance of the soul: that is, the possible intellect, which is in potency to all intelligible objects, and the agent intellect which makes them actually intelligible; because it is not im­ possible for a thing to be in potency and in act with respect to one and the same thing in different ways. Therefore, if we con­ sider the phantasms themselves in relation to the human soul, in one respect they are found to be in potency, inasmuch as they are not abstracted from individuating conditions, although ca­ pable of being abstracted. In another respect they are found to be in act in relation to the soul, namely, inasmuch as they are [sensible] likenesses of determinate things. Therefore po­ tentiality with respect to phantasms must be found within our soul so far as these phantasms are representative of determinate things. This belongs to the possible intellect which is, by its very nature, in potency to all intelligible objects, but is actuated by this or that object through species abstracted from phan­ tasms. Our soul must also possess some active immaterial power which abstracts the phantasms themselves from material in­ dividuating conditions. This belongs to the agent intellect, so that it is, as it were, a power participated from the superior substance, God. Hence the Philosopher says (De Anima, III, 5, 430 a 16), that the agent intellect is like a certain habit and light. In the Psalms it is also said: “The light of Thy counte­ nance is signed upon us, O Lord” (Ps. 4:7). Something re­ sembling this in a certain degree is apparent in animals who see by night. The pupils of their eyes are in potency to every color z66 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology inasmuch as they have no one determinate color actually, but make colors actually visible in some way by means of a certain innate light. f) Last opinion.—Indeed, some men thought that the agent intellect does not differ from our habitus of indemonstrable principles. But this cannot be the case, because we certainly know indemonstrable principles by abstracting them from sin­ gulars, as the Philosopher teaches in the Posterior Analytics (II, 19, 100 b 4). Consequently, the agent intellect must exist prior to the habitus of first indemonstrable principles in order to be the cause of it. Indeed, the principles themselves are re­ lated to the agent intellect as certain of its instruments, because it makes other things actually intelligible by means of such principles. (From The Soul, trans, by John P. Rowan. Reprinted, with minor changes, by permission of B. Herder Book Co., pub­ lishers.) VIII: ’l l IF. ROLE OF THE SPECIES IN INTELLECTION (la, q. 85, a. 2) The notion of sp< < ics, or likeness of the thing known, is one of the essential elements in the Aristotelian doctrine of knowledge. The intelligible species is abstracted by the agent intellect from the phantasm, in which it exists in potency, and is received in the faculty of knowledge, which is the possible (or passive) intellect. This likeness of the thing, however, is not that which is known immediately (id quod), but that by which (id quo) the intellect knows. Correctly understood, then lore, the species not only pre­ cludes every form of subject ivism but is the only alternative to a subjectivist or idealist theory of knowledge. Indeed, the following article from the Summa is one of the capital 267 Texts texts on which Thomistic epistemology rests its defense of the immediacy or objectivity of knowledge. Neverthe­ less, it should be noted that this article does not treat every phase of the question relating to the term of knowledge, since the knowledge process also admits of a term that is immanent to the mind, namely, the mental word. (Collate with supra, “The Possible Intellect and the Reception of the Species,” p. 134, and “The Mental Word: Relative or Ultimate Term of Knowledge?” p. 148.) Whether the Intelligible Species Abstracted from the Phantasm Is Related to Our Intellect As That Which Is Understood? Objection 1. It would seem that the intelligible species ab­ stracted from the phantasm is related to our intellect as that which is understood. For the understood in act is in the one who understands, since the understood in act is the intellect itself in act. But nothing of what is understood is in the in­ tellect actually understanding, save the abstracted intelligible species. Therefore this species is what is actually understood. Obj. 2. Further, what is actually understood must be in some­ thing; else it would be nothing. But it is not in something out­ side the soul: for, since what is outside the soul is material, nothing therein can be actually understood. Therefore what is actually understood is in the intellect. Consequently, it can be nothing else than the aforesaid intelligible species. Obj. 3. Further, the Philosopher says (Perihermeneias, 1, 16 a 3, 7) that words are signs of the passions of the soul. But words signify the things understood, for we express by word what we understand. Therefore these passions of the soul, viz., the in­ telligible species, are what is actually understood. 208 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology On the contrary, the intelligible species is to the intellect what the sensible image is to the sense. But the sensible image is not what is perceived, but rather that by which sense perceives. Therefore the intelligible species is not what is actually under­ stood, but that by which the intellect understands. I answer that, some have asserted that our faculties of knowl­ edge know only the impression made on them; as, for example, that sense is cognizant only of the impression made on its own organ. According to Ibis theory, the intellect understands only its own impression, namely, the intelligible species which it has received, so that this species is what is understood. This is, however, manifestly false for two reasons. First, be­ cause the things we understand are the objects of science; there­ fore if what we understand is merely the intelligible species in the soul, it would follow that every science would not be con­ cerned with objec ts outside the soul, but only with the intel­ ligible species within the soul; thus, according to the teaching of the Platonists all science is about ideas, which they held to be actually understood. Secondly, it is untrue, because it would lead to the opinion of the ancients who maintained that what­ ever seems, is true, and that consequently contradictories are true simultaneously. loi if the faculty knows its own impres­ sion only, it can judge ol that only. Now a thing seems, accord­ ing to the impression macle on the cognitive faculty. Conse­ quently the cognitive faculty will always judge of its own im­ pression as such; and so evciy judgment will be true: for instance, if taste perceived only its own impression, when anyone with a healthy taste peiceivcs that honey is sweet, he would judge truly; and if anyone with a corrupt taste perceives that honey is bitter, this would be equally true; for each would judge according to the impression on his taste. Thus every opinion would be equally true; in fact, every sort of apprehension. Therefore it must be said that the intelligible species is related to the intellect as that by which it understands: which is proved Texts 269 thus. There is a twofold action (cf. Metaph. ®, 8, 1050 a 231050 bi), one which remains in the agent; for instance, to see and to understand; and another which passes into an external object; for instance, to heat and to cut; and each of these actions proceeds in virtue of some form. And as the form from which proceeds an act tending to something external is the likeness of the object of the action, as heat in the heater is a likeness of the thing heated; so the form from which proceeds an action remaining in the agent is the likeness of the object. Hence that by which the sight sees is the likeness of the visible thing; and the likeness of the thing understood, that is, the intelligible species, is the form by which the intellect understands. But since the intellect reflects upon itself, by such reflection it understands both its own act of intelligence, and the species by which it understands. Thus the intelligible species is that which is understood secondarily; but that which is primarily understood is the object, of which the species is the likeness. This also appears from the opinion of the ancient philos­ ophers, who said that like is known by like. For they said that the soul knows the earth outside itself by the earth within itself; and so of the rest. If, therefore, we take the species of the earth instead of the earth, according to Aristotle {De Anima, III, 8, 431 b 30), who says that a stone is not in the soul, but only the likeness of the stone, it follows that the soul knows external things by means of its intelligible species. Reply Obj. 1. The thing understood is in the intellect by its own likeness; and it is in this sense that we say that the thing actually understood is the intellect in act, because the likeness of the thing understood is the form of the intellect, as the like­ ness of a sensible thing is the form of the sense in act. Hence it does not follow that the intelligible species abstracted is what is actually understood; but rather that it is the likeness thereof. Reply Obj. 2. In the words the thing actually understood there is a double implication: the thing which is understood, and the 2jo Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology fact that it is understood. In like manner the words abstract universal imply two things: the nature of a thing and its ab­ straction or universality. Therefore the nature itself to which it occurs to be understood, abstracted or considered as universal is only in individuals; but that it is understood, abstracted or considered as universal is in the intellect. We see something similar to this in the senses. For the sight sees the color of the apple apart from its smell. If therefore it be asked where is the color which is seen apart from the smell, it is quite clear that the color which is seen is only in the apple; but that it be per­ ceived apart from the smell, this is owing to the sight, forasmuch as the faculty of sight receives the likeness of color and not of smell. In like manner humanity understood is only in this or that man; but that humanity be apprehended without con­ ditions of individuality, that is, that it be abstracted and conse­ quently considered as universal, occurs to humanity inasmuch as it is brought under the consideration of the intellect, in which there is a likeness of the specific nature, but not of the prin­ ciples of individuality. Reply Obj. v Theie arc two operations in the sensitive part. One, in reg,aid <>l impression only, and thus the operation of the senses takes place by the senses being impressed by the sensible. The other is formal ion, inasmuch as the imagination forms for itself an image of an absent thing, or even of something never seen. Both of these opeiations are found in the intellect. For in the first place theie is the passion of the passive intellect as informed by the intelligible species; and then the passive in­ tellect thus informed forms a definition, or a division, or a composition, expressed by a word. Wherefore the concept con­ veyed by a word is its definition; and a proposition conveys the intellect’s division or composition. Words do not therefore signify the intelligible species themselves; but that which the intellect forms for itself for the purpose of judging of external things. (Reprinted from The Summa Theologica with the per­ Texts 271 mission of Benziger Brothers, Inc., publishers and copyright owners.) IX. THE MENTAL WORD (De Potentia, q. 8, a. 1, ca. medium) St. Thomas’ discussions of the mental word usually occur in connection with and in elucidation of his theology of the Trinity. As here understood, the mental word is a term, or terminating point, of the intellectual process, immanent and apprehended objectively, that is, as the object of the intellect. Needless to say, the doctrine of a mental word in human knowledge requires careful handling. The follow­ ing passage from the De Potentia occurs in the discussion on the Trinitarian relations; in it St. Thomas summarizes his whole comprehension of the matter with pleasing adroit­ ness. (Collate with supra, “The Mental Word,” p. 143.) The one who understands may have a relation to four things in understanding: namely to the thing understood, to the in­ telligible species whereby his intelligence is made actual, to his act of understanding, and to his intellectual concept. This concept differs from the three others. It differs from the thing understood, for the latter is sometimes outside the intellect, whereas the intellectual concept is only in the intellect. Moreover the intellectual concept is ordered to the thing under­ stood as its end, inasmuch as the intellect forms its concept thereof that it may know the thing understood. It differs from the intelligible species, because the latter which makes the intellect actual is considered as the principle of the intellect’s act, since every agent acts forasmuch as it is actual: and it is made actual by a form, which is necessary as a principle of action. And it differs from the act of the intellect, because it is 2-j2 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology considered as the term of the action, and as something effected thereby. For the intellect by its action forms a definition of the thing, or even an affirmative or negative proposition. This intellectual concept in us is called properly a word, be­ cause it is this that is signified by the word of mouth. For the external utterance does not signify the intellect itself, nor the intelligible species, nor the act of the intellect, but the concept of the intellect by means of which it relates to the thing. Accordingly this concept or word by which our intellect understands a thing distinct from itself originates from another and represents another. It originates from the intellect through an act of the intellect; and it is the likeness of the thing under­ stood. Now when the intellect understands itself this same word or concept is its progeny and likeness, that is of the intellect understanding itself. And this happens because the effect is like its cause in respect of its form, and the form of the intellect is the thing understood. Wherefore the word that originates from the intellect is the likeness of the thing understood, whether this he the intellect itself or something else. And this word of our intellect is extrinsic to the essence of the intellect (for it is not the essence but a kind of passion thereof), yet it is not extrinsic to the intellect’s act of intelligence, since this act can­ not be complete without it. (From On the Power of God, trans, by the English Dominican Fathers. Reprinted by permission of The Newman Press, publishers.) X. THE KNOWLEDGE OF SINGULARS (De Veritate, q. 10, a. 5) The proper object of the human intellect is the abstract and universal nature of individual material things, the direct and singular knowledge of which pertains to the sense facul­ ties. It does not follow, however, that our intellect has no knowledge whatsoever of the singular; indeed, the testi­ mony of experience would seem to be conclusively in favor Texts 273 of such knowledge. This, too, is the view sustained by St. Thomas, noting, however, that human intellectual knowl­ edge of the singular is only indirect and reflexive. (Collate with supra, “Knowledge of the Singular and the Existent Thing,” p. 165.) As is clear from what has been said (q. 10, a. 4), human and angelic minds know material things in different ways. For the cognition of the human mind is directed, first, to material things according to their form, and, second, to matter in so far as it is correlative to form. However, just as every form is of itself universal, so correlation to form makes us know matte only by universal knowledge. Matter thus considered is not the principle of individuation. Designated matter, existing under definite dimensions and considered as singular, is, rather, that principle because form receives its individuation from such matter. For this reason the Philosopher says that the parts of man are matter and form taken generally, whereas the parts of Socrates are this form and this matter (Metaph. Z, 11, 1037 a 5-10). From this it is clear that our mind is not able directly to know singulars, for we know singulars directly through our sensitive powers which receive forms from things into a bodily organ. In this way, our senses receive them under determined dimen­ sions and as a source of knowledge of the material singular. For, just as a universal form leads to the knowledge of matter in general, so an individual form leads to the knowledge of desig­ nated matter which is the principle of individuation. Nevertheless, the mind has contact with singulars by reason of something else in so far as it has continuity with the sensitive powers which have particulars for their object. ’I’his conjunction comes about in two ways. First, the movement of the sensitive part terminates in the mind, as happens in the movement that goes from things to the soul. Thus, the mind knows singulars through a certain kind of reflection, as when the mind, in 274 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology knowing its object, which is some universal nature, returns to knowledge of its own act, then to the species which is the principle of its act, and, finally, to the phantasm from which it has abstracted the species. In this way, it attains to some knowledge about singulars. In the other way, this conjunction is found in the movement from the soul to things, which begins from the mind and moves forward to the sensitive part in the mind’s control over the lower powers. Here, the mind has contact with singulars through the mediation of particular reason, a power of the sensitive part, which joins and divides individual intentional likenesses, which is also known as the cogitative power, and which has a definite bodily organ, a cell in the center of the head. The mind’s uni­ versal judgment about things to be done cannot be applied to a particular act except through the mediation of some intermedi­ ate power which perceives the singular. In this way, there is framed a kind of syllogism whose major premise is universal, the decision of the mind, and whose minor premise is singular, a perception of the particular reason. The conclusion is the choice ot the singular work, as is clear in The Soul (III, n, 434 a 16-20). The angelic mind, '.nice it knows material things through forms that immediately refer to matter as well as to form, knows by direct vision not only matter in general, but also matter as singular. So, also, does the divine mind. (From Truth, II, trans, by James V. McGlynn, S.J. Reprinted by per­ mission of Henry Rcgncry Company, publishers.) XI. THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE SOUL THROUGH ITSELF (De Veritate, q. 10, a. 8) For an accurate account ol St. Thomas’ doctrine on this important but easily misread problem, not only does one Texts 2-75 have to collate a number of texts, but even more necessary is it to keep in mind the larger setting which happens to form the context to a given passage. The essential conclu­ sions explicitly or implicitly evolved by St. Thomas on this topic have already been pointed out in the expository part of our study, to which the reader is hereby referred (cf. supra, “The Knowledge of the Soul Through Itself,” p. 176). As for the present selection, in the second part (b) St. Thomas appears to be especially occupied with bringing into agreement his own views and the Augustinian formulas relative to knowledge “in the eternal truths.” For our pur­ pose we have deemed it sufficient to cite but a portion of this particular discussion, enough to indicate the general distinction underlying his train of thought. When we ask if something is known through its essence, we can understand the question in two ways. In the first, “through its essence” is taken to refer to the thing known, so that we understand that a thing is known through its essence when its essence is known, and that it is not known through its essence when not its essence but only certain of its accidents are known. In the second way, it is taken to refer to that by which some­ thing is known, so that we thus understand that something is known through its essence because the essence itself is that by which it is known. It is in this sense that we ask here if the soul understands itself through its essence. For a clear understanding of this question we should observe that each person can have a twofold knowledge of the soul, as Augustine says (De Trinit., IX, 4). One of these is the knowl­ edge by which the soul of each man knows itself only with reference to that which is proper to it. The other is that by which the soul is known with reference to that which is common to all souls. This latter, which concerns all souls without dis- 2?6 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology tinction, is that by which the nature of the soul is known. How­ ever, the knowledge which each has of his soul, in so far as it is proper to himself, is the knowledge of the soul as it exists in this individual. Thus, it is through this knowledge that one knows whether the soul exists, as when someone perceives that he has a soul. Through the other type of knowledge, however, one knows what the soul is and what its proper accidents are. a) With reference to the first type of cognition we must make a distinction, because one can know something habitually or actually. Concerning the actual cognition by which one actually considers that he has a soni, I say that the soul is known through its acts. For one perceives that he has a soul, that he lives, and that he exists, because he perceives that he senses, understands, and carries on othci vital activities of this sort. For this reason, the Philosopher says (Ethica Nicomachea, IX, 9, 1170 a 31 ff.) that we sense that wc sense, and we understand that we under­ stand, and because we sense this, we understand that we exist. But one pen vives that he understands only from the fact that he undcislands something. For to understand something is prior to undcistanding (hat one understands. Therefore, through that which il undci .lands or senses, the soul arrives at actual per­ ception of I he fad that it exists. Concerning habitual knowledge I say this, that the soul sees itself through its essence, that is, the soul has the power to enter upon actual cognition of itself from the very fact that its essence is present to it. Thr. is like the case of one who, because he has the habit of some knowledge, can by reason of the presence of the habit pciceive those things which fall under that habit. But no habit is required for the soul’s perception of its existence and its advertence Io the activity within it. The essence alone of the soul, which is present to the mind, is enough for this, for the ads in which it is actually perceived proceed from it. b) But, if we speak of the knowledge of the soul when the 277 Texts human mind is limited to specific or generic knowledge, we must make another distinction. For the concurrence of two elements, apprehension and judgment about the thing appre­ hended, is necessary for knowledge. Therefore, the knowledge by which the nature of the soul is known can be considered with reference to apprehension and with reference to judgment. If, then, we consider this knowledge with reference to appre­ hension, I say that we know the nature of the soul through species which we abstract from the sense . . . [Here follows an argument establishing the immateriality of the soul.] But, if we consider the knowledge which we have of the soul in the judgment by which we decide that it exists in such a way, as we had apprehended from the deduction mentioned above, we have knowledge of the soul inasmuch as “we contem­ plate inviolable truth. This is the truth from which wc define to the best of our power not the kind of mind each man has, but the kind of mind it ought to be according to eternal norms,” as Augustine says (De Trinitate, IX, 6). (From Truth, II, trans, by James V. McGlynn, S.J. Reprinted by permission of Henry Regnery Company, publishers.) XII. THE SEPARATED SOUL’S KNOWLEDGE [Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 15 corp.) Offhand, it may appear that the question of the sepa­ rated soul’s manner of knowing is of no interest to the psy­ chologist; in reality, however, it is a rich source of doctrine for anyone who, like St. Thomas, wants to penetrate to the core of human nature. If the focal problem of human psy­ chology is that of the union of body and soul, the ultimate reason for this union is never better realized than when we search, as far as we can, the separated soul’s manner of knowing. The basic reason is found on investigation to 278 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology be that without the body the human spirit’s knowledge of things, apart from supernatural infusion, could not be as complete and as perfect as it is now. In the present in­ stance, moreover, by his forerunning analysis, closely rea­ soned and manfully pressed, of the theories taught by the Platonists and Avicenna, St. Thomas makes us doubly sure that his adoption of the Aristotelian solution was not with­ out thoroughgoing knowledge of the whys and the where­ fores. (Collate with supra, “The Case of the Separated Soul,” p. 185.) Whether the Soul, When Separated from the Body, Is Capable of Understanding I answer: The fact that our soul in its present condition needs sensible things in order to understand, is the cause of the diffi­ culty cnf which the intellectualism of St. Thomas appears ralhci less stringent than is sometimes alleged or imagined. (Collate with supra, “Superiority of Intellect over Will,” p. 202.) A thing can be said to be more eminent than another either simply or in a certain respect. Foi something to be shown to be simply better than another the comparison must be made on the basis of what is essential to them and not on that of acci­ dentals. In the latter case one thing would be shown to stand Texts 285 out over another merely in a certain respect. Thus if a man were to be compared to a lion on the basis of essential differences, he would be found to be simply nobler inasmuch as the man is a rational animal, the lion irrational. But if a lion is compared to a man on the basis of physical strength, he surpasses the man. But this is to be nobler only in a certain respect. To sec, then, which of these two powers, the will or the intellect, is better without qualification, we must consider the matter from their essential differences. The perfection and dignity of the intellect consists in this, that the species of the thing which is understood is in the in­ tellect itself, since in this way it actually understands, and from this its whole dignity is seen. The nobility of the will and of its act, however, consists in this, that the soul is directed to some noble thing in the very existence which that thing has in itself. Now it is more perfect, simply and absolutely speaking, to have within oneself the nobility of another thing than to be related to a noble thing outside oneself. Hence, if the will and the intellect are considered absolutely, and not with reference to this or that particular thing, they have this order, that the intellect is simply more excellent than the will. But it may happen that to be related in some way to some noble thing is more excellent than to have its nobility within oneself. This is the case, for instance, when the nobility of that thing is possessed in a way much inferior to that in which the thing has it within itself. But if the nobility of one thing is in another just as nobly or more nobly than it is in the thing to which it belongs, then without doubt that which has the nobility of that thing within itself is nobler than that which is related in any way whatsoever to that noble thing. Now the intellect takes on the forms of things superior to the soul in a way in­ ferior to that which they have in the things themselves; for the intellect receives things after its own fashion, as is said in The Causes. And for the same reason the forms of things inferior to 286 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology the soul, such as corporeal things, are more noble in the soul than in the things themselves. The intellect can accordingly be compared to the will in three ways: (i) Absolutely and in general, without any reference to this or that particular thing. In this way the intellect is more excellent than the will, just as it is more perfect to possess what there is of dignity in a thing than merely to be related to its nobility. (2) With regard to material and sensible things. In this way again the intellect is simply nobler than the will. For example, to know a stone intellectually is nobler than to will it, because the form of the stone is in the intellect, inasmuch as it is known by the intellect in a nobler way than it is in itself as desired by the will. (3) With reference to divine things, which are superior to the soul. In this way to will is more excellent than to understand, as to will God or to love Him is more ex­ cellent than t<> know Him. This is because the divine goodness itself is more perfectly in God Himself as He is desired by the will than the p.nI■< ipated goodness is in us as known by the intellect, (From I 'mill. Ill, trans, by Robert W. Schmidt, S.J. Reprinted by pcimission of Henry Regnery Company, pub­ lishers.) XIV. MAN HAS FREE WILL (De Veritate, q. 24, a. 1 corp.) St. Thomas discusses lice will on a great many occasions in his writings. Tire following selection from De Veritate is perhaps more memorable than some others because it places the discussion of the will on a more comprehensive level by comparing the several kinds of principles of move­ ment found in nature as a whole. Also, it throws a sharp focus on the real source of freedom in man, namely, his dominion over his practical judgment. Man, in the final analysis, has free will because, and in so far as, he owns the Texts 287 power to judge his judgment, and hence to decide what he will or will not do. (Collate with supra, "Free Will,” p. 208.) Without any doubt it must be affirmed that man is endowed with free choice. The faith obliges us to this, since without free choice there cannot be merit and demerit, or just punishment and reward. Clear indications, from which it appears that man freely chooses one thing and refuses another, also lead us Io this. Evident reasoning also forces us to this conclusion. Tracing out by its means the origin of free choice for the purposes oí our investigation, we shall proceed as follows. a) Among things which are moved or which act in any way, this difference is found. Some have within themselves the principle of their motion or operation; and some have it outside themselves, as is the case with those which are moved violently, “in which the principle is outside and the being subjected to the violence contributes nothing,” as the Philosopher teaches (Eth. Nic., Ill, 1, 1110 a 1-3, b 1-4, 15-16). We cannot hold free choice to be in the latter inasmuch as they are not the cause of their own motion, whereas a free being is “that which is for its own sake,” as the Philosopher teaches (Metaph., A, 2, 982 b 26). b) Among the things whose principle of motion and activity is within themselves some are such as to move themselves, as animals; but there are some which do not move themselves even though they do have within themselves some principle of their motion, as heavy and light things. These do not move them­ selves because they cannot be distinguished into two parts, of which one does the moving and the other is moved, as happens in animals. Their motion is nevertheless consequent upon a principle within them, their form. Because they have this from the being which generated them, they arc said to be moved essentially by their genitor and accidentally by that which re- 288 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology moves an obstacle, according to the Philosopher (Phys., VIII, 4, 255 b 8-256 a 3). These are moved by means of themselves but not by themselves. Hence free choice is not found in these either, because they are not their own cause of acting and moving but are set to acting or moving by something which they have received from another. c) Among those beings which are moved by themselves, the motions of some come from a rat ional judgment; those of others, from a natural judgment. Men act and are moved by a rational judgment, for they deliberate about what is to be done. But all brutes act and arc moved by a natural judgment. This is evident from the fact that all brutes of the same species work in the same way, as all swallows build their nests alike. It is also evident from the fact that they have judgment in regard to some definite action, but not in regard to all. Thus bees have skill at making nothing but honeycombs; and the same is true of other animals. It is accordingly apparent to anyone who considers the matter aright that judgment about what is to be done is attributed to brute animals in I he same way as motion and action are attrib­ uted to inanimale nal mal bodies. Just as heavy and light bodies do not move themselves so as to be by that fact the cause of their own motion, so loo brutes do not judge about their own judgment but follow the judgment implanted in them by God. Thus they arc not the canse of their own decision nor do they have freedom of choice. But man, judging about his course of action by the power of icason, can also judge about his own decision inasmuch as he knows the meaning of an end and of a means to an end, and the rcl.iI ionship of the one with reference to the other. Thus he is his own cause not only in moving but also in judging. He is therefore < ndowed with free choice—that is to say, with a free judgment about acting or not acting. (From Truth, III, trans, by Robert W. Schmidt, S.J. Reprinted, Texts 289 with two minor changes, by permission of 1 Icnry Regnery Com­ pany, publishers.) XV. THE HUMAN SOUL IS IMMOR TAL (Quaest. Disp. de Anima, a. 14 corp.) In this article St. Thomas gives a well-rounded presenta­ tion of the formal argument for the immortality, or, more precisely, for the incorruptibility of the human soul. Briefly, being an operation that in itself is completely independent of the body and every bodily organ, intellection requires that its ultimate principle, the soul, be similarly free of all bodily admixture. This principle, then, is form without body. But substantial form without body cannot but be subsistent and hence incorruptible. To this formal demon­ stration, which is basic, St. Thomas adds two other indica­ tions of immortality by way of auxiliary proofs. (Collate with supra, “The Nature of the Human Soul,” p. 224.) It must necessarily be granted that the human soul is incor­ ruptible. In proof of this we must take into consideration the fact that whatever belongs to a thing in virtue of its very nature (per se), cannot be taken away from it; for example, animality cannot be taken away from man, nor can the even and odd be taken away from number. Moreover it is evident that the act of existing in itself is a result of a form, for everything has its act of existing from its proper form; wherefore its act of existing can in no way be separated from its form. Therefore things composed of matter and form are corrupted by losing the form that gives them their act of existing. Moreover a form itself cannot be corrupted in itself (per se), but is corrupted acci­ dentally as a result of the disintegration of the composite, 2 go Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology inasmuch as the composite, which exists in virtue of its form, ceases to exist as a composite. This, indeed, is the case if the form is one that does not have an act of existing in itself, but is merely that by which a composite exists. Now if there is a form having an act of existing in itself, then that form must be incorruptible. For a thing having an act of existing (esse) does not cease to exist unless its form is sepa­ rated from it. Hence if the thing having an act of existing is itself a form, it is impossible for its act of existing to be sepa­ rated from it. Now it is evident that the principle by which a man understands is a form having its act of existing in itself and is not merely that by which something exists. For, as the Phi­ losopher proves in De Anima (III, 4, 429 a 24), intellection is not an act executed by any bodily organ. The main reason why there is no bodily organ capable of receiving the sensible forms of all natural things is that the recipient must itself be deprived of the nature of the thing received; just as the pupil of the eye does not possess the color that it sees. Now every bodily organ possesses a sensible nature. But the intellect, by which we un­ derstand, is capable of apprehending all sensible natures. There­ fore its operation, namely, understanding, cannot be carried out by a bodily organ. Thus it is clear that the intellect has an operation of its own in which the body does not share. Now a thing operates in accordance with its nature {secundum quod est), for things that exist ol themselves have an operation of their own, whereas things that do not exist of themselves have no operation of their own. For example, heat in itself does not produce warmth, but something hot. Consequently it is evident that the intellective principle, by which man understands, has its own mode of existing superior to that of the body and not dependent upon it. It is also evident that an intellective principle of this sort is not a thing composed of matter and form, because the species of things are received in it in an absolutely immaterial way, as Texts 291 is shown by the fact that the intellect knows universals, which are considered in abstraction from matter and from material conditions. The sole conclusion to be drawn from all this, then, is that the intellective principle, by which man understands, is a form having its act of existing in itself. Therefore this principle must be incorruptible. This indeed agrees with the Philosopher’s dictum that the intellect is something divine and everlasting (De Anima, III, 5, 430 a 23). Now it was shown in preceding articles (arts. 2, 5) that the intellective principle, by which man understands, is not a substance existing apart from man but is something formally inhering in him which is either the soul or a part of the soul. Thus, from the foregoing considerations we conclude that the human soul is incorruptible. Now all those who held that the human soul is corruptible missed some of the points we have already made. Some of these people, holding that the soul is a body, declared that it is not a form in its entirety, but a thing composed of matter and form. Others held that the intellect does not differ from the senses, and so they declared that the intellect does not operate except through a bodily organ; that it does not have a higher mode of existence than that of the body, and, therefore, that it is not a form having an act of existing in its own right. Still others held that the intellect, by which man understands, is a separate sub­ stance. But the falsity of all these opinions has been demon­ strated in preceding articles. It therefore remains that the human soul is incorruptible. Two additional arguments can be considered as an indication of this: First, respecting the intellect itself, because we see that even those things which are corruptible in themselves are in­ corruptible so far as they are perceived by the intellect. For the intellect apprehends things in and through universal concepts, and things existing in this [universalized conceptual] mode are not subject to corruption. Secondly, the natural appetite also provides an argument for the incorruptibility of the soul. Natu- 292 Philosophy of St. Thomas: Psychology ral appetite cannot be frustrated. Now we observe in men the desire for perpetual existence. This desire is grounded in reason. For to exist (esse) being desirable in itself, an intelligent being who apprehends existence in the absolute sense, and not merely the here and now, must desire existence in the absolute sense and for all time. Hence it is clear that this desire is not vain, but that man, in respect of his intellective soul, is incorruptible. (From The Soul, trans, by John P. Rowan. Reprinted, with one minor variation, by permission of B. Herder Book Co., pub­ lishers. ) XVI. THE IMAGE OF GOD God created man to I lis own image. Following the ex­ ample of his Christ ¡an masters, St. Thomas meditated deeply on this sacred utterance, believing, rightly, that it could provide him with further clue to the inner reality of the human soul. As will be seen in the passages to follow, this image in the soul is manifold, since it may shadow forth both the divine nal me (73 formation of, 122-138 growth of, 157-163 and the mental word, 271-272 (Text IX) Plato’s theory of, 90 role of species in, 136-137, 266270 (Text VIII) of singulars, 167-170, 272-274 (Text X) 299 Index Intellectual knowledge (continued) St. Thomas and modern theories of, 195-196 Intelligere; see Intellection Intentional existence, 101, 102 Intentiones insensatae; see Non­ sensed species Internal senses, 69-78, 245-248 (Text HI) Introspection, 7 Irascible appetite 82-84, 199> see also Appetite JOHN OF ST. THOMAS concept of the singular, 169-170 concurrent causality of phantasm and agent intellect, 132-153 expressed species and sense knowl­ edge, 61 human soul’s kinship with pure spirit, 230-231 intellection as action in predica­ ment of quality, 141-142 knowledge of vision or “per praesentiam,” 173-174 mental word as formal sign, 151!52 objectivity of sense knowledge, 60-61 twofold passivity of intellect, 135 and note Judgment of existence, 175 free; see also Free will instinctive, 212-213 practical, 213, 215-216 rational, 162, 163, 286-289 (Text XIV) will’s control over practical, 210 see also Intellectual knowledge; Sense knowledge as activity, 163-164 of angels by man, 192-193 according to Democritus, 90 of essences, 158, 160, 162-163; see also Human intellect essential condition of, 99-100, knowledge; Knowledge (continued) 250-253 (Text V); see also I niinut ci iality in general, 93 94 of God by man, 193 of singularii, 167170, 272-274 (Text X); M'v also Singulars of vision and simple understand­ ing in God, 173 174 priority of more univcisal, 159 separated soul’s, 185188, 191, 277-284 (Text XII) Knowledge "per praesentiam,” 173 l75 psychological determin ism of, 217-218 Liber arbitrium; see Free will Life; see also Soul characteristics of, 17-18 degrees of, 20-24, 236, 238-241 (Text I) first principle of, 25 formal definition of, 18-19 grades or modes of, 41-42 materialist theory of, 27-29 Locomotive potency, 84-86 Leibnitz, theory of soul inadequacy of, 35 St. Thomas’ criticism of, 27-29 “Medium” in sense knowledge, 6465 Memory intellectual, 77, 115, 136 sense, 76-78 Mens designates spiritual soul, 229 intellective structure of, 229-231 an intellectual principle, 225 Mental word and beatific vision, 146 as formal sign, 151-152 as likeness, 147 as production, 146-147 reason for production of, 145-146 relative or ultimate term, 148-151 St. Thomas’ doctrine of, 143-151, 271-272 (Text IX) materialist 300 Methods of psychology introspective, 7 objective, 8-9 philosophical, 9 subjective, 7-8 theological, 9 Modification in the senses; see Al­ teration in sense, kinds of see Appetite Necessity, kinds of, 210-211 Nonsensed species, 75 Nutrition definition of, 44 and other activities compared, 45 natural appetite; OBEDIENTIAL CAPACITY, 120-121 Object of human intellect; see I In man intellect, Intellect Objectivity of sense knowledge in Aristotle and St. Thomas, 5860 John of St. Thomas on, 60 61 meaning of, 58 modern philosophies on, 58 and some modem Thomisfs, 6162 Objects division of intelligible, 105 division of sensible, <;C> 57, 105 formal and material, 104 PARTICULAR REASON; MW Cogitative power Passions, 84 Passive intellect; see Possible intel lect Passivity entitative and intentional, 135 of intellect, 134-135 of sense, 54-55 Phantasm meaning of, 129 meaning of return to, 167-168 potential intelligibility of, 130 proofs for return to, 155-156 return to, 154-156 Index Phantasmata; see Phantasm Plato on origin of intellectual knowl­ edge, 90-91, 196 theory of soul in, 30-32 Platonic dualism and the unity of living things, 35 Possible intellect reception of species in, 135-136 twofold passivity of, 134-135 Potencies five genera of, 41 real distinction of soul and, 38-39 of the soul, 38-42 specification of, 39-40 various objects of, 105 Potency, locomotive; see Locomo­ tive potency Practical intellect, 114 Primary sense qualities, 62 Protagoras relativism of, 143 subjectivism of, 150 Psychological determinism, 217-218 Psychological writings of Aristotle, 11 of St. Thomas, 14-15 Psychology and consciousness, 2, 6-7 as empirical science, 3 characteristics of Aristotle’s, 4; see also Psychology of Aris­ totle general notion of, 1-5 historical survey of, 2-4 methods and object of, 5-10; see also Methods of psychology of Descartes, 2; see also Descartes possible presentations of St. Thomas’, 9-10 rational and experimental, 4-5 sources of St. Thomas’, 15; see also Psychology of St. 1 liornas Psychology of Aristotle, the; see also Psychological writings development of, 12-13 natural philosophy and, 11-12 order of, 13-14 Index Psychology of St. Thomas, the; see also Psychological writings and man’s bilateral nature, 235236 a “via media,” 235 commentaries on, 15 historical position of, 235-236 method of, 234-235 principal works of, 14-15 rests on metaphysics, 234 sources of, 15 twofold approach to, 9-10 QUIDDITY as object of human intellect, 113“5 sensible, 160 see Cogitative power Reasoning; see Intellectual discourse Reflection in sense, 64 and note, 71 and note Relativity of sense knowledge, 60, 62-63 Reminiscence; see Sense memory Rousselot, P., The Intellectualism of St. Thomas, 124 ratio particularis; SECONDARY SENSE QUALITIES, 62 Self, the intuition of; see also Self-knowl­ edge of human soul in Aristotle and St. Thomas, 191 in modern philosophy, 190-191 modern theories of, 176 Self-knowledge of human soul according to St. Thomas actual and habitual, 180-184, 188, 191, 274-277 (Text X!) particular and universal, 184185 Aristotle on, 177-178 extent of, 189-190 St. Augustine on, 178, 180 JOI Self-movement, degrees of, 21-22 Sensation according to Aristotle, 51-52 and “spiritual” immutation, 54 and twofold reception of form, 54 Al as reception of form, 55 twofold passivity in, 54-5 5 Sense faculties and the “medium,’' 64 65 nature of, 63 64 Sense knowledge and expressed species, 61 and the "medium,” 64 65 objectivity of, 58 63; «<•<• alto Ob jectivity of sense knowledge object(s) of common, 57 per accidens, 57-58 proper, 57 relativity of, 62-63 Sense memory, 76-78 Senses external, 50-69, 245-248 (Text III) internal, 69-78, 245-248 (Text HI) and reflection, 64 and note passivity and activity of, 53-55 twofold alteration in, 45-55, 245248 (Text III) Sensible objects, division of, 56-57 Sensitive appetite; see Appetite Sensory consciousness, 71 Sensus communis; see Common sense Separated soul’s knowledge, 185188, 191, 277-284 (Text XII) Sight, Aristotelian theory of, 68 Singulars Cajetan’s “arguitive” knowledge of, 168-169 indirect knowledge of, 167 intellectual knowledge of, 167170, 272-274 (Text X) John of St. Thomas on concept of, 169-170 Soul; see also Human soul 302 Soul (continued) and essential presence in whole body, 221 and “neo-vitalists,” 30 Aristotle’s definition of, 24, 32-35 as “harmony” and “complexion,” 28 as studied in Aristotle and St. Thomas, 26-27 corruptibility of nonhuman, 36, 221 first principle of life, 2 5 hylomorphic solution to, 32-35, 221 incorruptibility of human, 226228 and note, 289-292 (Text XV) indivisibility of, 36, 221 is all things, 94 manner of knowing in separated, 185-188, 191, 277-284 (Text XII) mechanist theory of, 27-29; see also Materialist theory of soul Platonic theory of, 30 32 problem of the, 24 25 self-knowledge of human, 177191, 274 277 ( Text XI); sec also Sell knowledge of hu­ man soul subsistence of human, 225 and notc-226, 289 292 (Text XV) three kinds of, 40-41 unicity of, 35 Species; see also Mental word abstraction of intelligible, 131 as likeness of object, 137 concurrent causality of agent in tellect and, 132-133 impressed and expressed intelligible, 144 sensible, 55 intellection and the role of, 266 270 (Text VIII) intelligible object and the, 143, 149 Index Species (continued) nonsensed, 15 production of, 56 reason for, 55 separate intelligences and the re­ ception of, 108-109 “Spiritual” immutation of sense, 54 Spirituality of human soul from manner of knowing, 225 from object of intellect, 224-225 Spontaneity, compared with free­ dom, 209-210 Subjectivity of sense knowledge, 58 Subsistence of human soul, 22 5 and note-226, 241-245 (Text II) Substantiality; see Subsistence of human soul Superiority of intellect over will, 89, 202-205, 284-286 (Text XII); see also Intellect, Will of intellectual knowledge, modern and Thomistic com­ pared, 193-196 Thomas Aquinas, St. and mechanist theory of soul, 273° , and modern theories of intellec­ tual knowledge, 195-196 and Plato’s theory of soul, 30-32 on agent intellect, 127-128 on self-knowledge of human soul, 178-188; see also Selfknowledge of human soul on the vision of God, 116-120; see also Vision of God psychological writings of, 14-15 study of intellect in, 91-92 Thomas, John of St.; see John of St. Thomas Touch, one sense or many, 67-68 theories i in ni:«standing; see Intellection Unity of all powers in the soul, 207 of the living being, 35 of the soul, 221 Index VEGETATIVE LIFE, 43-49 Verbum mentis; see Mental word Vis (¡estimativa; see Estimative power Vis cogitative; see Cogitative power Vision of God, the and the human intellect, 115121 natural desire for, 118-120 possibility of, 115-116 Scotist view of desire for, 118 St. Thomas’ teaching on, 116-120 Vital emanation, degrees of, 22-23 WILL acts of the, 201-202 an intellective appetite, 220 and absolute or universal good, 213-214 and particular goods, 217-214 and the determining motive, 218219 3°3 Will (continued) and ultimate practical judgment, 215-216 as mover of the other powers, 206207 existence and nature of, 198 freedom of, 211-216, 286-288 (Text XIV); see also Free will manner of object’s presence in, 199 200, 204 necessary and free, 210-211 object of, 199 reciprocal determination of intel­ lect and, 215-216, 220 relative superiority of, 205 superiority of intellect over, 202 205, 284-286 (Text XIII) Will and intellect compared, 89, 202-205, 284-286 (Text XIII); see also Intellect, Will Word, mental; see Mental word