THE THOMIST
A SPECULATIVE QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF THEOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

EnnroRs: THE DoMINICAN FATHERS OF THE PRoviNCE oF ST. JosEPH

Publishers: Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York City

VoL. VIII

APRIL, 1945

THE LURE OF BEAUTY
ROM THE fifteenth century to the present day the
western world has been drifting with more or less gay
abandon from the solid moorings of truth and goodness.
This vagrancy has been marked by two trends: an abandonment
of scientific philosophy and theology in favor of the elevating
experiences of esthetics, and a departure from classic Christianity under the guise of pursuing culture. The moderns give
full expression to this now ancient vagabondage as they chant
of the dawn of a new era of culture and revel in rhapsodies on
art and beauty.
Now, the allurements of beauty are very old. But they become extravagant when man despises true wisdom and departs
from moral goodness. The temptations of esthetics are many.
The mind of man has a desire to penetrate the material world
about him. In a limited way the esthetic experience satisfies
this desire, but at the same time it feeds the false hope that man
can exceed his intellectual perfection, which here below consists in universal truths, and rival the divine and angelic in149

150

JOHN FEARON

tellects in their total exploitation of the concrete individual.
In the face of a reluctance on the part of the material world to
expose its inner self to the human mind man artfully contrives
to give matter an intelligibility not its own in an attempt to
elucidate the beauty of his world. Loving the child of his own
mind fosters in man the temptation to rest in his image and
exult in his own self-expression. In a way this flatters the same
presumption that toppled Adam-that man can be the principle
of his own perfection. And just as there is a possibility of confusing the merits of esthetic and philosophic knowledge, there is
the possibility of confusing the beautiful and the good. Succumbing to this temptation leads to the modem cult of culture.
Disregard for truth and goodness makes the modern an easy
target for the wily one who capitalizes on any and all temptations. But sound doctrine can reduce the potentiality of these
temptations and rob beauty of its deceptive lure. The fundamental ideas of St. Thomas on beauty are the surest road to a
realization of the distinctions and limitations which belong to
esthetics.
St. Thomas lived in a beautiful age, sometimes called the
greatest of centuries. True, his observations on the beautiful
are scattered through his works in terse phrases pregnant with
meaning. He merely pauses to give a definition, to indicate
beauty's relationship to the good or to assign its place in the
Trinity. But this process is natural to the rapid pace at which
a theological synthesis must travel. Furthermore, it is well to
bear in mind that Divine Providence had definite designs upon
the genius of the friar from Rocca Sicca. In doctrinal matters
St. Thomas had one intent and purpose: to establish theology
as a strict science, the most perfect of sciences. IDtimately this
involved the production of a " summa " of Sacred Doctrine for
beginners. The magnificence of this work has been recognized
through the centuries, sometimes even with the silent encomium
of resting on the shelves reserved for research and reference.
Eric Gill once said " look after goodness and truth, and beauty
will take care of herself.'' 1 The Angelic Doctor took care of
truth.
1

Eric Gill, Beauty Looks After Herself, Sheed & Ward, N. Y. 1933, p. !M5.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

151

Pope John XXII gave Thomas Aquinas the title of Saint.
Pope Pius XI gave St. Thomas Aquinas the title of Universal
Doctor. This paper is not undertaken in the pontifical spirit
which would add the tile of Esthete to those of Saint and
Doctor. But perhaps it may help to lead the moderns back to
truth and goodness. Then" beauty will take care of herself."
I

In attempting to piece together the scattered fragments of
St. Thomas' esthetics into an integrated whole, harmonious
with the rest of his synthesis, the usual methodology of proceeding from the more known to the less known is indispensable. This procedure demands first of all that an accurate
though indistinct notion of the basic formality of beauty be
culled from the obvious.
From the viewpoint of logic and predication two facts are
obvious. First, we predicate the term beautiful of totally
diverse subjects. With a trace of poignance in the voice we say
that a symphony is beautiful; with the trill of youth the same
term is also predicated of certain characters of Hollywood fame.
Some classes of men are quite lavish with the word when referring to flowers and sunsets; the more religious will reverently
say that Mary is beautiful, that Christ is beautiful and that
God is beautiful. The second obvious fact gleaned from our
manner of speaking is that beauty, though predicated of diverse
things, is not used to designate all the individuals of any one
class. We say that certain individual women are beautiful, but
we do not apply the term indiscriminately to all women. The
inescapable truth is that some women are ugly. Though all
enjoy the same nature and the same femininity, reliable opinion
refuses to concede that all are beautiful. Thus it appears that
beauty is actually a composite characteristic embracing considerably more than essential constituents. As might be expected, the observant Aristotle was quite aware of the strictly
personal character of beauty and its peculiar incommunicability.2 He noted that association with the beautiful does not
s Aristotle, Problemata,

Bk. XXIX, 95la.

152

JOHN FEARON

produce beauty any more than association with the healthy
produces health.
In the order of experience two more facts are obvious. Quite
certainly esthetic experience is knowledge of some sort. On the
one hand sensile perception alone seems insufficient for the
discernment of beauty. On the other, it stands opposed to the
labored abstraction and discourse of reason typical of scientific knowledge. Knowledge of beauty is somehow intuitive. 2 "
Hence, knowledge of the beautiful eludes the mode of truth
which concentrates on the abstractive nature ofthe knowable.
It penetrates deeper and tends to exhaust the concrete complexities of the individuaL To sum it all up, this knowledge is
:intellectual, but somehow exhaustive and intuitive, like vision.
Our consciousness of beauty also includes delight. Esthetic
experience is happy. It gives spice to work-a-day existence and
refreshes the soul weighed down with care. Yet, thi.s delight is
something more noble than the joy engendered by tasty food
and fine old wines. It is a delight consequent upon knowing
the beautiful. We say we are delighted by the sunset. Actually
we mean that we are delighted with the perception of the sunset. In his simple wisdom St. Thomas captured all this in four
words: " Beauty is that which being seen pleases." 3
To ponder the obvious in this way may seem useless. Yet
only the obvious can provide the vague but all-important formalities which make it possible to plumb the depths of the
obscure. In the case of beauty these initial reflections quite
convincingly indicate that beauty involves the exhaustive
intuition of the whole individual with a consequent delight in
that intuition. "Beauty is that which being seen pleases."
Equipped with this formal notion as with an instrument it is
2 • It will be clear from the context that the term " intuition " is not employed
in this article in the sense of an immediate intellectual vision of the concrete individual. St. Thomas denies the possibility of such a vision to the human intellect in
its present state of union with the body. Here the term is used to indicate the
direct experience of the individual that man is capable of through the united
activities of his sense and intellectual faculties. Cf. "Notes on Intuition," by M.
de Munnynck, 0. P. in The Thomist, Vol. I (1939), pp. 143-168.
3 Summa
Theol., I, q. 5, a. 4, ad lum: "id quod visum placet."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

153

possible to clarify the more difficult concepts and answer
questions of a more basic nature.

n
In n.atural philosophy the vague concept of motion makes it
possible to formulate a more precise concept of nature wherein
motion is found. Similarly a vague notion of the formalities
specifying cognition enable one to discover the deeper truths
about the faculty wherein cognition is found. In like manner
the germinal observation that esthetic experience is a full intuition of the individual directly implicates the human intellect as
the subject of that experience. This approach leads immediately
to two problems: an analysis of the cognitive action already
termed intuitive, and an analysis of the more intimate characteristics of the cognitive faculty itself.
Actually the person appreciates beauty. But in the genesis of
this experience many faculties cooperate. The primary contact
of man with beauty is established by the external senses. These
are five in number: touch, sight, hearing, taste and smell. Sight
and hearing play the most prominent role. St. Thomas notes
that " those senses chiefly regard the beautiful which are most
cognitive, viz., sight and hearing as ministering to reason; for
we speak of beautiful sounds and beautiful sights. But in
reference to the objects of the other senses we do not use the
expression beautiful." 4 Still, a lesser role can be assigned to the
other senses without doing violence to St. Thomas. ln. referring
to the work of these two senses he did not say " solely "
(solummodo) but rather "chiefly" (praecipue) the senses of
sight and hearing. Though tastes and smells are not ordinarily
considered beautiful they do contribute in their own way to our
complete sense perception of beauty. For example, we are
charmed by the rose particularly because of its color and shape.
'Summa Theol., I-II, q. 27, a. 1, ad Sum: "llli sensus praecipue respiciunt
pulchrum qui maxime cognoscitivi sunt, scilicet visus et auditus ratione deservientes;
dicimus enim pulchra visibilia et pulchros sonos. In sensibilibus autem aliorum
sensuum non utimur nomine pulchritudinis; non enim dicimus pulchros sapores
aut odores . . . "

154

JOHN FEARON

However, its fragrance and texture also enter into our whole
perception of the rose.
Sight and hearing are here of greater importance because they
best serve the intellect and because through them most of our
knowledge is acquired. This is especially true with regard to
sight and the common sensibles. Since sight extends universally
to aU of them it is not only more efficacious but also more
powerful. 5 We can certainly neither touch, smell, nor taste
music, poetry and sunsets. Yet these are beautifuL By their
situational and functional associations with nutrition, smell and
taste are more at home in the dining room than at the opera.
The external sense representations of the concrete individual
objects of beauty are then conveyed to the internal common
sense and imagination, where they may be intensified and enhanced by fusion with the elements of previous experience. The
reproductive and retentive functions of imagination are of
considerable importance for this reason. The comparative
development or dullness of this faculty largely accounts for
the variations of taste among individual esthetes. Vivid imagination will bring a wealth of associated experience to each new
discovery of beauty. Unresponsive imagination will even fail to
grasp the totality of esthetic material offered by the senses.
This phenomenon is entirely in consonance with the old philosophic axiom that " whatever is received is received according
to the mode or capacity of the recipient." In connection with
the internal senses of man special mention should be made of
what the Angelic Doctor calls the particular reason. In man
the particular reason substitutes for the functions of instinct in
animals. It assembles and collects the individual intentions of
sense perceptions just as the universal reason assembles and
collects universal reasons. Furthermore, the particular reason
apprehends the individual as existing under a common nature.
This is possible only because of its intimate association with
the intellect in one and the same person. The obvious ad8 Comment. In "De Sensu et Sensato," lect. !i!, n.
"Per hunc etiam sensum
(visus) magis cognoscuntur communia sensibilia; quia quanto potentia habet virtutern cognoscitivam universaliorem, et ad plura se extendentem, tanto est eilicacior
in cognoscendo; quia omnis virtus quanto est universalior, tanto est potentior."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

155

vantage of this faculty is that it enables us to know this man
precisely as this man. 6
Next, this immediate sense perception confronts the intellect.
In using the expression, " beauty is that which being seen
pleases," St, Thomas did not wish to confine " being seen " to
the strict meaning of an exercise of the faculty of sight, even
though this is the primary signification of the term. According
to his own interpretation, " the word ' sight ' is originally applied to the act of sense, and then as sight is the noblest and
most trustworthy of the senses extended in common speech to
all knowledge obtained through the other senses . . . and
further it is referred to knowledge obtained through the
intellect." 1
He is careful to stress the predominant role of intellect in
the apprehension of the beautiful. " Beauty refers to the cognitive faculty," he insists, in distinguishing it from the universal
good. 8 But the exact nature of this intellectual act is not explicitly developed by the Angelic Doctor. However, there is
general agreement that sensile perception is insufficient for the
discernment of beauty. Animals are chronically unappreciative
of the beauties of art and nature alike. Even the most pedigreed
• In Aristotelia Librum De Anima, II, lect. IS, :n. S96-S98. " Si vero apprehe:ndatur in singulari, ut puta ·cum video colora tum percipio hunc hominem vel hoc
animal, hujusmodi quidem apprehensio in homine fit per vim cogitativum, quae
dicitur etiam ratio particularis, eo quod est collativa intentionum individualium,
sicut ratio universalis est coUativa rationum universalium.
"Nihilominus tam en haec vis est in parte sensitiva, quia vis sensitiva in sui
supremo participat aliquid de vi intellectiva. in homine, in quo sensus intellectui
conjungitur. In animali vero irrationali fit apprehensio intentionis individualis per
aestimativam naturalem, secundum quod ovis per auditum vel visum cognoscit
filium vel aliquid hujusmodi.
" Difl'erenter tamen circa hoc se habet cogitativa et aestimativa. Nam cogitativa
apprehe:ndit indi-viduum ut existens sub natura communi; quod contingit ei, in
quantum unitur intellectivae in eodem subjecto; unde cognoscit himc hominem
prout est hie homo et hoc lignum prout est hoc lignum."
• Summa Theol., I, q. 67, a. 1: "sicut patet in nomine visionis, quod primo
impositum est ad significandum actum sensus visus, sed propter dignitatem et certitudi:nem hujus sensus, extensum est hoc
secundum usum loquentium, ad
om:nem cognitionem aliorum se:nsuum •.• Et ulterius etiam ad cognitionem intellectus."
9 Summa Theol., I, q. 5, a. 4: " ••. pulchrum respicit vim cognoscitivam ... "

156

JOHN FEARON

dogs howl at a symphony. At the other extreme, there is agreement that this knowledge of beauty stands opposed to the
difficultprocesses of scientific reasoning. It can readily be admitted, however, that these processes J:p.aterially dispose the
mind for the perception of more intellectual beauty. The acts
of reason are essentially discursive. They move from the imYet the newly
mediately known to the mediately
acquired term is expressed in a judgment. Since sensile perception and labored discourse of reason are disqualified as constituting the esthetic intuition, the choice is limited to some kind
of judgment. For all beauty is true and knowledge of the
beautiful is true knowledge. But truth, which is the perfection
of knowing, is found only in judgment. Obviously then, the
intuition of beauty is basically some manner of judgment.
However, it must not be considered as a simple judgment of
principles nor as the conclusion of a well-reasoned syllogism.
Rather, it belongs to the class of judgments associated with
contemplation, a full intuition of the known. It exceeds the
order of abstraction and utilizes the harmonious contributions
of all the cognitive faculties of the person. Though the esthetic
intuition ultimately consists in this act of the intellect, the
internal and external senses must of necessity cooperate. 9
Obviously the knowledge of truth is verified equally in esthetic and non-esthetic cognition. Beauty and ugliness have a
common status relative to judgment. The peculiar note which
specifies esthetic cognition is that it is somehow exhaustive of
the known. It satisfies the mind. One can have true knowledge
of the nature of the known and still be highly curious about its
particular and individual notes. But when the intellect and
conjoined faculties spontaneously exhaust the knowability of
the beautiful, curiosity is absent. Only when knowability on
the part of the object completely connatural to the cognitive
• Summa Theol., I, q. 84, a. 7: "Unde natura lapidis, vel cujuscumque materialis
rei, cognosci non potest complete et vere, nisi secundum quod cognoscitur ut in
particulari existens. Particulare autem apprehendimus per sensum et imaginationem;
et ideo necesse est ad hoc quod intellectus actu intelligat suum objectum proprium,
quod convertat se ad phantasmata, ut speculetur naturam universalem in particulari
existentem."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

157

faculties captures the mind does esthetic experience occur. It
grows out of an accumulative process and contains within itself
all the perfections of the apprehension and judgment of truth
but in a more perfect and complete way. This conjoined
activity of the intellect and senses must be immediate (temporally) , without doubt and without discourse of reason; 10 in a
word, spontaneous. In this moment of the knowing process the
cognitive aspect of esthetic experience is essentially complete.
This is the basic meaning of the term " intuition " when applied
to the contemplation of beauty. It is entirely unnecessary to
invent either a new faculty or a new act of the intellect peculiar
to the intuition of beauty and peculiar to only a few esthetes.
However, it would falsify St. Thomas and it would falsify
experience to omit any mention of the grades of perfection
found in esthetic perception. Having isolated the basic truths
about this act, it is possible to expand their application without
running the risk of confusion. Basically esthetic knowledge is
contemplation or vision. It is concrete knowledge of the beautiful. It exploits the knowability of an object completely connatural to the mind of man. There are the common traits
realized in the esthetic knowledge of peasant, poet and philosopher alike. Mention has already been made of the role of the
internal senses in accounting for differences is esthetic tastes.
Bodily dispositions, temperament, and experience all have an
influence upon intellectual ability. However, over and above
the level of sense certain characteristics of individual intellects
also influence the operations of this faculty. The mind of man
has a certain plasticity which enables it to acquire various
habits or dispositions. These perfections in turn materially
dispose the intellect to respond to a fuller measure of beauty.
They attune the mind to the more intellectual aspects of the
beautiful. The most important of these habits in the natural
10 Summa Theol., Suppl., q. 92 (94), a. 2: " ... sicut Socrates, et filius Diaris,
et amicus, et alia hujusmodi, quae per se cognoscuntur in universali ab intellectu,
in particulari autem a virtute cogitativa in homine . . . Hujusmodi autem tunc
sensus exterior dicitur sentire, quamvis per accidens, quando, ex eo quod per se
sentitur, vis apprehensiva (cujus est illud cognitum per se cognoscere) statim et
sine dubitatione et discursu apprehendit. . . . "

158

JOHN FEARON

order is philosophical wisdom or metaphysics. Inasmuch as
metaphysics leads to the contemplation of the universal causes
of being it transcends the proper object of the human intellect.
It discerns deeper realities and considers diverse realities under
a common aspect and does not descen!f to the proper notes
of natural and moral objects. It reduces such diverse things as
creator and creature to a unity, not of univocation but of
analogy .11 Because man is a speculative creature this presupposes the discipline of logic and physics. Because man is a
moral creature it also presupposes the discipline of moral virtue,
especially temperance. 12 The study of philosophy is not the
work of a day. It is a lifetime effort. It demands intense and
prolonged intellectual concentration. Lest man be lured from
this devotion to thought, strong habits must moderate the unreasonable demands of his animal nature. Human experience
bears ample witness to the inescapable connection between wisdom and temperance. There is a certain asceticism demanded
in the esthete who would improve the natural endowments of
his intellect. The intellectual facility and acumen which the
habit of metaphysics brings to the mind of the esthete is not
without labor and suffering.
The second of the intellectual habits which dispose the mind
for fuller esthetic knowledge is peculiar to the Christian. By
tae infused habit of Faith and the acquired habit of theology,
the Christian is enabled to approach God no longer under the
aspect of being, but as He is in Himself. The ultimate perfec11 I Sent., Prolog. q. 1, a.
corp. et ad !tum: "Aliqua cognitio quanta altior
est tanto est magis unita et ad plura se extendit: unde intellectus Dei qui est
altissimus per unum quod est ipse Deus omnium rerum cognitionem habet distincte.
Ita et cum ista scientia sit altissima et per ipsum lumen inspirationis divinae
efficaciam habens. ipsa unita manens non multiplicata diversarum rerum considerationem habet, nee tantum in communi, sicut metaphysica, quae considerat omnia
in quantum sunt entia non descendens ad propriam cognitionem moralium, vel
naturalium. Ratio enim entis cum sit diversificata·in diversis non est sufficiens ad
specialem rerum cognitionem; ad quarum mauifestationem divinum lumen in se
unum manens, sec. Dion. efficaciam habet."
" Creator et creatura reducuntur in unum, non communitate univocationis sed
analogiae."
12 Summa Tkeol., IT-II, q.
a. 1, ad

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

159

tion of theology as a science is the contemplation characteristic
of theology as wisdom. This habit also demands definite intellectual and moral preparation. It was not mere chance that
led the Beloved Apostle to write " Every one that loveth is
born of God and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth
not God." 12 " Moral virtues impede the vehemence of unruly
appetites and quietly but firmly wall off the tumult of exterior
distractions, 13 and prepare the way for acquired contemplation.
In turn this is but an approach to the contemplation which
proceeds from the gift of Wisdom, " the gift which makes us
judge rightly of divine things by a certain connaturalness and
union with God which is effected by Charity." 1.4 Under the
egis of the Holy Ghost the soul is swept along through life and
through death to the vision o£ the Triune God, the summit of
esthetic experience, perfect and immediate union o£ the intellect
and God. Night vanishes and eternal day appears. However,
it is to be noted that theology in this life attains its object in a
dark manner with relative and negative knowledge, since
theology is based on Faith and Faith is o£ things not seen. The
full vision o£ God is reserved for the blessed in heaven.
Though the name contemplation is common to connatural
esthetic knowledge, metaphysical wisdom, theology and the
Beatific Vision, the essential characteristics of esthetic knowledge are not realized in each. Metaphysics gives certain knowledge and contemplates reality. Yet metaphysics as such does
not descend to the concrete individual. And the beauty that is
connatural to man is to be found in just the precise characteristics that metaphysics abstracts from. Hence, the role of metaphysics in esthetics is simply to dispose the intellect and render
it capable of discerning with ease the deeper aspects of the
beauty which is connatural to man. Likewise, theology gives
I ln. 4, 7 and 8.
Theol., ll-ll, q. 180, a. 2: "Virtutes autem morales impediunt vehementiam passionum et sedant exteriorum occupationum tumultus. Et ideo virtutes
morales dispositive ad vitam contemplativam pertinent."
10 Summa Theol., II-IT, q. 45, a. 4: "sapientia quae est donum Spiritus Sancti
sicut dictum est facit rectitudinem judicii circa res divinas, vel per regulas divinas
de aliis, ex quadam connaturalitate sive unione ad divina."
12 "

n Summa

160

JOHN FEARON

certain knowledge and contemplates reality. It has the further
perfection of considering reality in its concrete individuality.
It knows God under the very aspect of His Deity. However, in
this life theology is based on Faith and not on vision. Though
divinely certain, theology is obscure. Hence, even theology
fails to provide the full intuition of its object which is characteristic of esthetic knowledge. Like metaphysics, theology disposes the mind to know deeper truths. However, its proper
role is to prepare the mind for the esthetic contemplation of
God in heaven. In this life, though we know that God is beautiful, we do not see His Beauty. While a wayfarer the theologian
pursues the Beauty of God, but never captures it.
In this brief account of the contact of the soul with beauty
a wealth of detail has been neglected. In analyzing the intuition
of beauty the basic realities are of more importance. Having
evidenced them the next step is to outline the inner characteristics of the faculty thus felicitously affected. Since it was
asserted that knowledge of the beautiful was connatural to the
knower, this serves as a valuable point of departure from which
to undertake a study of the intellect itself.
Despite the needless friction between idealism and realism, all
men are realists at heart. The human intellect cannot be satisfied with dreams about centaurs and peppermint mountains.
When words fail even the most vociferous idealist picks up a
club to do battle for the reality of his ideas. Generally spea;king,
the human intellect concentrates on two spheres of reality,
forms and relationships. 15 Upon seeing a strange gadget for the
first time one immediately asks what it is and what it is for. In
covering reality the senses deal with the more material accidents
since these are highly individual and individual matter itself is
unintelligible. For present purposes it is sufficient to note that
the human intellect is a potency having for its object real sub'"Joannis a S. Thoma, Cursus Philosophicus, III, p. 114 b9ss: "Ex omnibus
enim praedicamentis substantia et relatio per se pertinent ad' intellectum, substantia
quidam quia per se non potest movere sensum nisi per aliquod accidens externum
quo reddatur sensibilis. Remota vero accidente sola substantia non est cognoscibilis
nisi ut quidditas quod est proprium objectum intellectus. Relatio autem quia
indiget collatione et ordinatione ut cognoscatur quae est propria intellectus."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

161

stantial forms and relationships. In referring to the latter, St.
Thomas says: "It is proper to reason to know order. Whereas
the sense faculties know things absolutely, only the intellect
or reason can know the order of one thing to another." "6
In order to particularize these general statements about the
intellect and its object, and in order to assign the natural basis
for the various grades of perfection in esthetic cognition, several
distinctions are necessary. First, the intellect has a twofold
potentiality.
Its natural potentiality regards those objects
which can be known by its own natural agency. Since the
natural agency of the intellect depends objectively upon the
images presented by the senses, its natural potentiality is confined to reality which has some association with matter. Such
reality is either associated with matter as a constituent part or
has matter as a subject. It may also have an association with
material things only by a certain similarity, as in the case of
our :relative and negative knowledge of God. However, over
and above this natural potentiality, the intellect has an obediential potentiality relative to the agency of God. Thus even
the vision of separated substances and God Himself can fall
within the scope of the intellect. 17 The particular significance
of this distinction to the esthete is that his Most Beautiful One
cannot be seen with the eyes of his mind unless God Himself
elevates the created intellect. This experience is reserved for
the blessed.
16 In I Ethic., lect. 1: "quia
sapientia est potissima perfectio rationis, cujus
proprium est cognoscere ordinem. Nam etsi vires sensitivae cognoscant res absolute,
ordinem tamen unius rei ad aliam cognoscere est solius intellectus aut rationis."
17 S. Thomae, Comp. Theol. ad Fr. Reginaldum, I, c. 104: "Est autem aliquid in
potentia dupliciter: uno modo naturaliter, respectu eorum scilicet quae per agens
naturale possunt reduci in actum: alio modo respectu eorum quae reduci non
possunt in actum per agens naturale, sed per aliquid aliud agens. . . . Sic autem
et circa intellectum nostrum accidit. Est enim intellectus noster in potentia
naturali respectu quorumdam intelligibilium, quae scilicet reduci possunt in actum
per intellectum agentem, quae est principium innatum nobis, ut per ipsum efficiamur
intelligentes in actu. Est autem impossibile nos ultimum finem consequi per hoc
quod intellectus noster sic reducatur in actum: nam virtus intellectus agentis est
ut phantasmata, quae sunt intelligibilia in potentia, faciat intelligibilia in actu.
. . . Consequimur igitur ultimum finem in hoc quod intellectus noster fiat in
actu, aliquo sublimiori agente quam sit agens nobis connaturale .... "

162

JOHN FEARON

Again, it is necessary to distinguish between the proper and
adequate objects of
intellect. The proper object of the
intellect is connatural to man as human. The adequate object of the human intellect is connatural to man as intellectuaL
Thus, as precisely human, the intellect is confined to the
essences of material beings. As a spiritual faculty potentially
all things, however, it can and does transcend those limits by
use of analogy and considers being as being, without regard to
matter. St. Thomas says:
It is connatural to us to know those things which have their being
in individual matter inasmuch as our soul by which we know is also
the form of some definite matter.
However, this soul has two cognitive levels. One of them is the
act of a corporeal organ and it is connatural to this faculty to know
things inasmuch as they are found in individual matter, wherefore
the senses know only singulars. The other cognitive faculty of the
soul is the intellect, which is not the act of any corporeal organ.
Hence it is connatural to us to know intellectually natures which do
have their being in individual matter though they are not known
precisely as existing in individual matter but as they are abstracted
from it by the consideration of the intellect. Thus by the intellect
we are able to know things universally, which is far above the
faculty of sense. 18

Since the intellect regards its object universally it can transcend
the particular aspects of its object. 19 Thus being in all its totality
18 Summa Theol., I, q. 12, a. 4: "Ea igitur quae non habent esse nisi in materia
individuali, cognoscere est nobis connaturale, eo quod anima nostra, per quam
cognoscimus, est forma alicujus materiae. Quae tamen habet duas virtutes cognoscitivas. Unam, quae est actus alicujus corporei organi. Et huic connaturale est
cognoscere res secundum quod sunt in materia individuali, unde sensus non
cognoscit nisi singularia. Alia vero non est actus alicujus organi corporalis. Unde
per intellectum connaturale est nobis cognoscere naturas, quae quidem non habent
esse nisi in materia individuali; non tamen secundum quod sunt in materia individuali, sed secundum quod abstrahuntur ab ea per considerationem intellectus.
Unde secundum intellectum possumus cognoscere hujusmodi res in universali; quod
est supra facultatem sensus."
19 Summa Theol., I. q. 79, a. 7: " ..• si aliqua potentia
secundum propriam
rationem ordinetur ad aliquod objectum secundum
rationem objecti
non diversificabitur ilia potentia secundum diversitates particularium differentiarum. . . . Intellectus autem respicit suum objectum secundum communem
rationem entis, eo quod intellectus possibilis est quo omnia fieri."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

163

is opened up to the consideration of the mind. By its natural
potentiality the intellect can transcend its proper object and
explore with analogy, though in a limited way, even beings
which lie only within its adequate object. However, the obediential potentiality of the intellect is exercised properly within
the sphere of the adequate object.
These precisions relative to the knowing faculty establish
several conclusions pertinent to the doctrine on beauty. First,
esthetic knowledge need not be restricted to the material order
as far as the intellect is concerned, though the connatural mode
of knowing beauty will be confined to the proper object of the
intellect, the physical world of matter and form. Second, the
more intellectual varieties of beauty lie outside the proper object of the intellect and hence of necessity involve the use of
analogy as far as our knowledge of them is concerned. Full
intuition in this sphere is not the lot of mortal man.
In a rapid analysis of esthetic experience the connatural and
properly human aspects are of. prime importance. They provide
the clues for making precise the confused concept with which an
understanding of beauty must begin. With appropriate adjustments it is then possible to apply that concept of the loftier and
more complex aspects of the question. Until the basic germinal
notion is fully explicated, however, the strictures of method
permit only a general consideration of the complexities.

ill
It has been seen that the complete capture of the mind by
beauty which constitutes the exhaustive intuition is conditioned
ultimately by the knowability of the object. In natural philosophy any penetration of motion and nature leads ultimately
to the principles of nature which make motion possible: matter,
form and privation. In our analysis of the general concept of
cognition and intellect, immateriality appears as the ultimate
principle which makes cognition possible. Similarily a full
understanding of the knowledge man has of beauty leads ultimately to the exterior principles which cause esthetic experience.
Since knowledge of the beautiful has something in common

164

JOHN FEARON

with any intellectual perception, beauty itself will have the
general attributes of knowability, reality, fonn, and order. In
applying these attributes to beauty, St. Thomas rather constantly refers to, them as integrity, proportion and clarity. In
a typical passage he says, " For beauty three things are required. In the first place integrity or perfection, for whatsoever
things are imperfect by that very fact are ugly; and due proportion or consonance; and again clarity--thus brightly colored
objects are said to be beautifuL" 20

Integrity
Even to one uninitiated in philosophical terminology integrity
connotes completeness. It has something to do with a nose on
every face and two ears astride each head. This is also the
sense in which St. Thomas uses the term. Ordinarily he associates it with the term perfection. For him perfection and
integrity are really the same thing, differing only conceptually.
It is a case of the bottle being half full or half empty. Perfection
signifies positively what integrity signifies negatively. A thing
is perfect so far as it has attained its full essential and functional
stature. In respect to this same totality the term integrity
signifies that no parts are lacking. 21
The most tangible application of integrity holds for the
quantitative order. When we think of parts and wholes we
think first of these factors in respect to things having magnitude, like the pie and its pieces, the jig-saw puzzle and its
pieces. An integral puzzle has no parts lacking. A pie half eaten
is no longer a whole pie. However, integrity also applies to
essential wholes, compounds of matter and form. In respect
20 Summa
Theol., I, q. 39, a. 8: "Nam ad pulchritudinem tria requiruntur.
Primo quidem integritas sive perfectio; quae enim diminuta sunt, hoc ipso turpia
stmt. Et debita proportio sive consonantia. Et iterum claritas, uncle quae habent
colorem nitidum, pulchra, esse dicuntur."
21 /n de1 Div. Nom., c. !2, lect. I: "Integrum
et perfectum idem videntur esse;
differunt tamen ratione, nam perfectum videtur dici aliquid in attingendo ad
propriam naturam; integrum autem per remotionem diminutionis, sicut dicimus
aliquem hominem non esse integrum, si postquam attingit propriam natumm,
aliquo membra mutiletur."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

165

to the essence of physical things, matter and form are parts just
as essence and existence are the parts of spiritual substances. 22
For example, the soul is the formal part of man. When his soul
departs he is neither integral nor beautiful. At least ordinarily
we do not refer to cadavers as beautiful.
Furthermore, the Angelic Doctor distinguishes between
operational and existential perfection and integrity. In his own
words: " Integrity is twofold. One considers the primary perfection which consists in the existence (esse) of a thing; the
other considers the secondary perfection which consists in operation." 23 Thus, for example, by the endowments of nature a
man may lack nothing of his existential perfection as a man.
Yet virtue and the acts of virtue add an operational perfection
to him which gives him a positive fullness typical of truly
human beauty.
Since the notion of integrity involves the whole and its parts
it may be thought that it does not apply to God. To answer this
difficulty St. Thomas distinguishes between a whole that depends on its parts and a whole that is prior to its parts. Thus,
the material parts of a house are prior to the house and the
whole house depends on them. The integrity consonant with
this arrangement is typical of the whole created order. However, in the Platonic notion the whole precedes the parts after
the manner in which we say that the parts of a house are in
the mind of the builder which is a whole. In this sense integrity
to God. It is the integrity which belongs to His
can be
And so it is ultimately with each nature. Each has
Est
• 2 Summa Theo., I, q. 8, a. 2, ad Sum: " ... totum dicitur respectu partium.
autem duplex pars: scilicet pars essentiae, ut forma et materia dicuntur partes
compositi, et genus et differentia, partes speciei; et etiam pars quantitatis, in quam
scilicet dividitur aliqua quantitas."
•• IV Sent., d. 26, q. 2, a. 4: " duplex est integritas. Una quae attenditur secundum perfectionem primam, quae consistit in ipso esse rei; alia quae consistit in
operatione."
"In de Div. Nom., c. !l, lect. 1: "Totum autem hie non accipitur secundum
quod ex partibus componitur sed prout secundum platonicos totalitas quaedam
dicitur ante partes, quae est ante totalitatem quae est ex partibus, utpote si
dicamus quod domus quae est in materia est totum ex partibus, et quae praeexistit
in arte aedificatoris, est totum ante partes."

2

166

JOHN FEARON

an integrity proper to it. For example, man's nature calls for
two arms and a head. Hence the Venus de Milo is no longer
the statue of a woman, nor can she be called a beautiful woman.
But it is the statute of a feminine torso and artists generally
agree that it is a beautiful torso.
From this brief summary of integrity four conclusions can
be adduced which pertain to the consideration of beauty. First,
integrity has more than a mere quantitative denotation. It can
be expanded to cover the whole scale of beings. Second, though
integrity is very broad in its application it is not appropriated
to all natures in precisely the same way. Third, in considering
the integrity proper to any one nature the common notes of
integrity must be coupled with the peculiar adjustments proper
to that nature. Fourth, mutilation, privation and diminution
are the trade marks of the ugly.

Proportion
Like integrity, proportion or consonance also has a variety
of applications the first of which is quantitative. This priority,
however, is only in the order of knowing. St. Thomas says,
"Proportion according to the first imposition of the term signifies a habitude of quantity to quantity according to some
determined excess or equation, but it is further translated to
signify every habitude of anything whatsoever to another." 25
The two factors involved in the general notion of proportion are
habitude and plurality. No one says, .. I am just like me." In
every proportion at least two terms are necessary. 26 Underlying this duality, of course, some type of unity is necessary.
Habitude or order, however, can exist on various levels. First,
there is the familiar order of the parts of a body. As St.
Thomas puts it, we say a man is beautiful when he has a
" decent " proportion of the members of his body with respect
•• IV Semt., d. 49, q. 2, a. 1, ad 6um: "Proportio secundum primam nominis
institutionem, significat habitudinem quantitatis ad quantitatem, secundum aliquem
determinatum excessum vel adequationem, sed ulterius est translatum ad significandum omnem habitudinem cujuscumque ad aliud."
•• IV Sent., d. 16, q. 8, a. 1: "Et quia in qualibet proportione oportet esse ad
inus duos terminos, nihil enim sibi ipsi proportionatur, sed alteri .... "

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

167

to quantity and situation. 27 His arms should be neither too long
nor too short for the rest of his body; his nose neither too big
nor too small for his face. Quantitatively he should be well
proportioned. He also needs a certain graceful disposition of
his limbs and parts. A gentleman tying his shoes, for example,
generally assumes a somewhat unsightly posture. All physical
beauty must realize this type of consonance even though each
does it in his own way.
Over and above material proportion and bodily beauty in
man there is also a co1;1sonancemore proper to him as human.
Virtues insure a conformity between his actions and his rational
nature. Thus, virtue adds a special beauty to man. This is particularly true of the virtue of temperance. Temperance not
only establishes an order in human life (all virtues do this) but
it also restrains man from those deordinations which are typically bestiaF 8 And whereas temperance puts a proper order
in man with respect to what is animal in him, charity and the
theological virtues rightly order him to what is above, God.
Regardless of outward appearances the saint is always more
beautiful than the sinner.
Again a difficulty arises in applying the ordinary notion of
consonance to God. In God there is no real plurality. Still God
does have consonance since He contains all proportions within
Himself as in a cause. All created consonances are but manifestations of this consonance of the All Beautiful One who is the
first cause of all order. It is impossible to outline the inexhaustable manifestations of God's. consonant beauty. The
world is full to overflowing with interwoven order. Ages upon
ages of poets and painters and saints will never dry up this
unfathomable well of beauty. Only with our heads in heaven
•• In de Div. Nom., c. 8, lect. 5: "Sic enim hominem pulchmm dicimus propter
decentem proportionem membrorum in quantitate et situ."
28 Summa Theol., II-II, q. 141, a. 2, ad Sum: "Pulchritudo
conveniat cuilibet
virtuti, excellenter tamen attribuitur temperantiae duplici ratione. Primo quidem
secundum rationem communem temperantiae ad quam pertinet quaedam moderata
et conveniens proportio. . . . Alio modo quia ea a quibus refrenat temperantia sunt
infima in homine, convenientia sibi secundum naturam bestialem ... et ideo ex
eis maxime natus est homo deturpari. Et per consequens temperantiae, quae
praecipue turpitudinem hominis tollit."

168

JOHN FEARON

will we begin to gather the beauty of earth and heaven into our
heads.
Even from these few ideas on consonance two conclusions
rather obviously follow. First, with respect to proportion a
thing may be beautiful from one point of view but not from
another. A man may be well proportioned corporeally but if he
has not subordinated his lower appetites to reason and his
reason to God he is spiritually and literally as ugly as sin.
Second, since consonance regards not only the proper nature
of each but also the circumstances of each one's existence, it is
not only a general but also a very particular attribute of the
beautifuL

Clarity
The third metaphysical element of beauty ofl'ers no difficulties. It is simply brilliance or splendor of form. Brilliance
is originally associated with light and color. Light and color
:render objects more visible. For example, in the dark it is
unfortunately difficult to discern whether the door is open or
shut or just ajar. Though clarity applies primarily to an accidental form, it is translated to apply also to substantial forms. 29
Forms or essences of things are not only their intrinsic principle of constitution but also the source of their intelligibility.
In the world of corporeal nature these forms are mixed with
their limiting counterpart, matter. Matter of itself is unintelligible. Hence, the more form succeeds in overcoming the limitation of matter and the less it is immersed in and :restricted
by matter the more brilliantly form appears to our minds.
Since immateriality is the principle of intelligibility, there is an
ascending gradation in clarity reaching from material beings to
Pure Act. The clarity of God is the source of all clarity in
creatures. They are but reflections from the " font of all light."
However, God Himself, though He is the summit of intelligibility, immateriality and cladty, exceeds the capacity of our
created intellects. In this life our minds are unable to perceive
•• ln de Div. Nom., c. 4, lect. 5: "Forma. autem a qua. dependet propria. ratio
rei pertinet ad claritatem."

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

169

His brilliance directly. They are like the eyes of the owl in the
face of the noon-day sun.
The world of nature is situated between two sets of faculties,
one human, the other divine. 80 On our side we know the truths
of this world because they are true. We love the goods of this
world because they are lovable. We delight in the contemplation of the beauties of this world because they are beautiful.
With God it is different. Things are true because He knows
them. They are good because He loves them. They are beautiful because He made them so. God imparts beauty to all created
beauty according to three orders of causality: efficient, final
and exemplary.
The divine beauty is efficiently causative in three ways: in
imparting existence, in moving all things and in conserving all
things in their being. From His beauty all things have received
their existence. " From this beauty comes existence to all existing things." 31 But " clarity is also of the consideration of
beauty. Every form through which a thing has existence is a
certain participation of the divine clarity .... Similarly it
is also said that consonance is of the reason of pulchritude.
Whence all that pertains to consonance in any way whatsoever
proceeds from the divine pulchritude . . . all concord of
rational creatures as regards the intellect (for they who hold
the same ideas are one in concord) , as regards friendship, communion in action, and universally whatever union creatures
have, they have in virtue of this beauty." az
80 Q. D. de· Veritate XI, q. 1, a. !!: "Res ergo naturalis inter duos intellectus
constituta, secundum adequationem ad utruinque vera dicitur; secundum enim
adaequationem ad intellectum divinum dicitur vera in quantum implet hoc ad quod
est ordinata per intellectum divinum ... ad intellectum humanum in quantum
nata est de se formare veram aestimationem. . . . "
31 In de Div. Nom., c. 4, lect. 5:
"ex pulchro isto provenit esse omnibus
existentibus."
•• In de Div. Nom., c. 4, lect. 5: "Claritas enim est de consideratione pulchritudinis. . . . Omnis autem forma, quam res habet esse, est participatio quaedam
divinae pulchritudinis. • . . Similiter etiam dictum est quod de ratione pulchritudinis est consonantia; unde omnia quae qualitercumque ad consonantiam pertinet,
ex divina pulchritudine procedunt, et hoc est quod subdit quod propter bonum
divinum sunt omnia rationalium creaturarum ' concordiae ' quantum ad intellectum

170

JOHN FEARON

What is the motive of this divinely beautiful Agent? "It is
the nature of a perfect agent to act through love of what he
has ... Because (God) has His own proper pulchritude, He
wishes to multiply it through communication of His own similitude." 33 God's beauty exercises final causality inasmuch as
" all things are made that they may somehow imitate the divine
pulchritude. Third, it is an exemplary cause because all things
are distinguished according to the divine Beauty, and a sign of
this is that none care to represent or make effigies unless they
are beatuiful." 34 A man enthralled by the beauty of reality
naturally tends to express his reaction. Beauty elicits his artistic
operations. It enters into the very shape and form of his painting and poetry. So too, the Divine Artist imitates His essence
outside Himself. Imitation, of course, involves exemplary
causality.

IV
In sketching what St. Thomas has to say about the conditions which give the beautiful its intelligibility, the discussion
leads quite naturally to the source of integrity, consonance and
clarity. It is like following the stream back to the pure crystal
spring whence it began. It is a progressive inquiry in the line of
causality. Having reached the ultimate in that direction it is
necessary to about face and seek out the proper effect of beauty
and its intuition. St. Thomas says that " beauty is that which
being seen pleases." To complete an appreciation of what he
means by that formula an explication of the final term is indispensable. A brief consideration of his doctrine on appetition
in general is fundamental to an understanding of the exact
(concordant enim qui in eamdem sententiam conveniunt), et amicitiae quantum ad
affectum, et communiones quantum ad actum, 'vel ad quodcumque extrinsecum; et
universaliter omnes creaturae quantumcumque unionem habet, hahent ex virtute
pulchri .... "
•• In de Div. Nom., c. 4, lect. 5: "Omnia enim facta sunt ut divinam pulchritudinem qualitercumque imitentur.
Tertio, est causa exemplaris, quia omnia
distinguuntur secundum pulchrum divinum, et hujus signum est quod nullus curat
effigiare vel repraesentare nisi ad pulchrum .... "

"'Ibid.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

171

nature of this delight. Having isolated it in its properly human
mode, it will then be possible to delve into the more complex
modes of delight in contemplation.
The Angelic Doctor distinguishes three kinds of appetite:
natural, elicited sense and the elicited intellectual appetite
which is the will.sG The natural appetite is a tendency rooted
in and identified with the nature of a thing for its proper good
antecedent to apprehension. It has no need of apprehension
because it is one with the determined nature. Hence it operates
of necessity.
The elicited sense appetite is a tendency to a particular good
convenient to animal nature, following its sensile perception.
The objects of this appetite are singular concrete goods. It
desires this particular delectable object but never moves toward
goodness in the abstract. Its movements are always accompanied by corporeal changes in the organism, the emotions.
Unlike natural appetite it does not have a simple necessity in
respect to its object but necessarily moves toward its good
only after the perception of that good by sense.
The elicited intellectual appetite is similar to the sense
appetite in that it needs to be preceded by cognition. It differs
in that it follows intellectual cognition which has for its object
not only singular things but primarily universal essences. Because the intellect penetrates to universal truth it also penetrates to the universal reason of goodness. The only necessity
associated with the will is in relation to this universal good,
bonum in commune. As regards particular goods contained
under this universal it is entirely free. Properly speaking, emotions are not found in the will, but its movements are parallel
to those of sense appetite; hence we also speak of them as
emotions: love, hate, fear, sorrow, joy, desire, hope, despair,
anger and the rest.
Now, just as the cognition of beauty was an accumulative
process involving many faculties and many acts of these faculties but issuing into completion only in the fullness of intellectual judgment, so the charm peculiar to the experience of
•• Q. D. de Veritate, q. 25, a. 1.

JOHN FEARON

beauty is also an accumulation of various appetites issuing
in a special kind of delight. First of all, the natural appetites
of sense and intellect are allayed. Beautiful things are proportioned in themselves and proportioned to the senses. " Sense
derives pleasure from things duly proportioned, as being similar
to itself, for sense too is a kind of ratio like every cognitive
power." 36
The intellect also has a natural appetite for reality which is
satisfied only in judgment where truth is found. " Truth itself
is a certain good as intellect is considered as a thing and truth
as its end." 37 On the side of elicited appetition, the emotion of
joy in the sensile order must remain extrinsic to what formally
constitutes the delight associated with beauty. The reason for
this is that sense is incapable of any but a direct relation to the
good. Its delight necessarily terminates in the object of sensibility rather than in the contemplation of that object. To
assign the delight of knowing the beautiful to this faculty is to
identify the beautiful and the good, a confusion certainly foreign
to the mind of St. Thomas, who insists on their rational distinction.38 The presence of emotion in the esthetic sentiment is
undeniable. However, as a disposition it contributes to the
integrity rather than to the essence of the experience. Emotion
also enters into esthetic delight by way of overflow from the
well-being of higher faculties.
Joy in knowing the beautiful is the satisfaction of our intellectual faculty of desire, the will, reposing in the proper good of
its cognitive counterpart. 39 The happy exercise of the intellect
coupled with a fullness of knowledge or truth produces the
metaphysical well-being or perfection of this faculty, thus satisfying its natural appetite. This flowering of the intellect is
36 Summa Theol., I, q. 5, a. 4, ad lum: "Unde pulchrum in debita proportione
consistit, quia sensus delectatlll' in rebus debite proportionatis, sicut in sibi similibus;
nam et sensus ratio quaedam est, et omnis virtus cognoscitiva."
37 Su=a Theol., I, q. 82, a. 3, ad lum:
"Unde et bonum quoddam verum est.
Sed rursus et ipsum verum est quoddam bonum, secundum quod intellectus res
quaedam est, et verum finis ipsius."
•• Summa Theol., I-II, q. 27, a. 1: "Bonum dicitur id quod simpliciter complacet
appetitui; pulchrum autem dicatur id cujus apprehensio placet."
•• Su=a Theol., I-II, q .. 27, a. 1.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

173

immediately gathered up by the will, which then rests contented
in the contemplation which its neighbor enjoys. For " the end
and perfection of every other faculty is contained in the object
of the appetitive faculty .as the particular is enclosed in the
general." w Beauty is thereby establiShed in direct contact
with the intellect and indirect and mediate contact with will.
This complex relationship saves it from identification with
either truth or goodness.
" The beautiful is the same thing as the good; differing only
conceptually. That being good which all things desire, it is of
the nature of good that the appetite is allayed by it: but it is
of the.nature of the beautiful that the appetite is allayed by the
sight or knowledge of it . . . and so it is clear that 'the beautiful adds over and above the good a certain order to the cognitive potency. So, let that be termed good which simply gratifies
the appetite; but let that be termed beautiful the mere apprehension of which gives pleasure." n
To summarize briefly the connatural mode of delight in the
beautiful: there is a natural soothing of the senses charmed by
colors or sounds. There is a satisfaction of the intellect's natural
desire for existent reality. The perfect vision of the intellect is
gathered in by the subject's own elicited appetite which delights
in it as in a good. Furthermore, as cognition of the beautiful is
particularized, so too will be· the delight. This accounts for the
delight connected with the 'properly human mode of appreciating beauty. It completes the explication of the Thomistic
definition of beauty as that which being seen pleases.
•• Bum'I1Ul. Tkeol., 1-11, q. 11, a. 1, ad 2um: " .... perfectio et finis cujuslibet
alterius potentiae continetur sub objecto appetitivae sicut proprium sub communi.
• . • Unde perfectio et finis cujuslibet potentiae, in quantum est quoddam bonum,
pertinet ad appetitivam; propter quod appetitiva potentia movet alias ad suos fines,
et ipsa consequitur finem quando quaelibet aliarum pertingit ad finem."
..1 Bum'I1Ul. Theol., I-ll, q. 27, a. 1, ad Sum: " ... pulchrum est idem bono sola
ratione differens. Cum enim bonum sit quod omnia appetunt, de ratione boni est
quod in eo quietetur appetitus. Sed ad rationem pulchri pertinet quod in ejus
aspectu seu cognitione quietetur appetitus • . . unde sic patet quod pulchrum addit
supra bonum quemdam ordinem ad vim cognoscitivam; ita quod bonum dicatur id
quod simpliciter complacet appetitui, pulchrum autem dicatur id cujus apprehensio
placet."

174

JOHN FEARON

Again it would be unfaithful to St. Thomas and experience to
pass over without comment the more perfect modes of delight
in contemplation. Just as there are various and progressively
more perfect grades both in knowing and in the knowable, there
are also fuller and more perfect realizations of the delight
associated with contemplation. The Angelic Doctor approaches
his discussion. of these latter by carefully and precisely distinguishing a twofold joy found in contemplation. 42 The first
springs from the very perfection of the cognitive act itself.
" Delight follows upon a perfect operation." 43 The second is
rooted in the object inasmuch as the beautiful is also the beloved. This is not a distinction between two totally different
kinds of.delight. Again it is a matter of accumulation. The delight in seeing the beloved adds a new formaJity to the delight
of perfect operation. For example, a man may delight equally
in seeing two women of equal beauty. Yet if one of them is his
wife he takes a special delight in seeing her. There are two
reasons for this augmentation. Love stimulates the mind to an
ever fuller knowledge of the beloved. It is characteristic of
lovers to have lengthy conversations. They are anxious to find
out more about each other, to know each other better. Again,
love effects a material disposition in the will which blends itself
into all the future movements of that faculty. Love makes the
will capable of new and intense desires, new hopes, new fears,
and fuller joys .
.. Summa Tkeol., ll-ll, q. 180, a, 7: " ... aliqua contemplatio potest esse
delectabilis dupliciter. Uno modo, ratione ipsius operationis, quia unicuique delectabilis est operatio sibi conveniens secundum propriam naturam vel habitum. Contemplatio autem veritatis competit homini secundum ·suam natw;am, prout est
animal rationale. Ex quo contingit quod omnes homines natura scire desiderant:
et per consequens et cognitione veritatis delectantur. Et adhuc magis fit hoc
delectabile habenti habitum sapientiae et scientiae, ex quo accidit quod sine difficultate aliquis contemplatur.-Alio
modo contemplatio redditur delectabilis ex
parti objecti, in quantum scilicet aliquis rem a.mata.m contemplatur; sicut etiam
accidit in visione corporali quae delectabilis redditur non solum ex eo quod ipsum
videre est delectabile, sed etiam ex eo quod videt quis personam amatam. Quia
ergo vita contemplativa praecipue consistit in contemplatione Dei, ad quam movet
caritas ... inde est quod in vita contemplativa non solum est delectatio ratione
ipsius contemplationis, sed etiam ratione ipsius divini a.moris."
. 43 Aristotle, X Ethic. IV, 6; 1174, b2S.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

175

Obviously the delight which enters into the definitive formula
of beauty is the delight concerned with intellectual operation.
The joy in knowing is the proper effect of the natural mode of
esthetic experience. Certainly this natural mode is greatly enhanced when the beautiful one is also the beloved. This love
should be understood as the natural emotion of friendship. Just
as human science, both metaphysical and moral, disposes the
intellect and makes it capable of appreciating more intellectual
beauty, so too human love disposes the will and makes it
capable of an added delight in contacting the beautiful. Thus
the full and integral stature of the natural mode of esthetic
experiences emerges, no longer isolated in a definition, but adequately expanded to cover the totality of normal experience.
This experience is common to good men and evil men alike.
However, for its full appreciation one should be disposed by a
certain amount of logical and moral discipline, and one should
have the appetites well rectified.
Mention has already been made of another mode of contemplation reserved for the good Christian. There is also a contemplative delight that is typically theological. With regard to
this delight the same distinction between joy following perfect
intellection and joy following upon knowing the beloved applies.
However, the delight in simply knowing is not the precise
formality of theological contemplation as it was in esthetic experience. Theological contemplation must have charity for its
motive. Still this does not mean that it ceases to be contemplation, i. e., intellectual. It only means that the moving principle
of this intellectual action is in the will.44 And just as it has its
motive force from the affections it also terminates in affection.
Yet, antecedent to this termination in the will another virtue
intervenes to solidify the contact between man and God. The
first effect of contemplation upon the will is to elicit an act of
"Summa TheoZ., II-11, q. 180, a. 1: "Et propter hoc Gregorius constituit vitam
contemplativam in < caritate Dei ' in quantum scilicet aliquis ex dilectione Dei
inardescit ad ejus pulchritudinem conspiciendam. Et quia unusquisque delectatur
cum adeptus fuerit id quod amat, ideo vita contemplativa terminatur ad delectationem, quae est in affectu, ex qua etiam amor intenditur."

176

JOHN FEAilON

devotion from. the virtue of religion.46 Before the will of· man
can fully rejoice in the knowledge of God he must surrender
himself to the principle and end of his existence by devotion.
The price of his joy is an enslavement to God, the will of
promptly abandoning himself to whatever pertains to divine
worship. 48 Only when thus clothed can spiritual joy seize upon
his soul.41 He must not only be a lover of the Divine Goodness
but a slave to the Divine Principle before he can hope to experience the Divine Beauty. And" this contemplation of divine
things which is had by wayfarers though imperfectly is more
delightful than all other contemplation however perfect it may
be, because of the excellence of the one contemplated." 48 This
experience develops in the life of a Christian as the gifts of the
Holy Ghost become more operative and finally terminates in
the vision of God in heaven of which the Psalmist says, " They
shall be inebriated with the plenty of thy house; and thou shalt
make them drink of the torrent of thy pleasure." 48 "
Obviously the devotional approach .to theological· beauty is
inescapable. Without the theological and moral virtues there
can be no godly esthete. These virtues must "make straight
the way " in the human will. Only he that loves is born to God
and knows God. Theology itself no longer gropes after God
under the common aspect of being. By building upon the
principles of Faith which have fallen from His own lips it reverently contacts its object under the very aspect of His Deity.
In this life it is limited by the darkness of Faith. Still it is a
beginning of the full. vision of the Triune God in Heaven.
Even these few considerations of esthetic experience and
theological contemplation point out quite definitely two differ•• Summa Theol., ll-II, q. 82, a. S, ad 1um: " Consideratio eorum quae nata
sunt dilectionem Dei excitare, devotionem causa.nt."
•• Summa Theol., II-II, q. 82, a. 1: "Unde devotio nihil aliud esse videtur quam
voluntas quaedam prompte tradendi se ad ea quae pertinent ad Dei famulatum."
07 Summa Tkeol., II-II, q. 82, a. 4: " ..• devotio per se quidem et principaliter
spiritualem laetitiam mentis causat."
•• Summa Tkeol., II-II, q. 180, a. 7, ad Sum: " Sed contemplatio divinorum quae
habetur in via, etsi sit imperfects, tamen est delectabilior omni alia contemplatione
qua.ntumcumque pcrlecta, propter excellentiam rei contemplatae."
••• Ps. 85, 9.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

177

ent ways of looking at beauty, two different approaches to
" that which being seen pleases." One attains the beauty that is
connatural to man. The other pursues the beauty that is connatural to God. Theology has God for its proper object. God is
the focal point of Sacred Doctrine. The beauty of this world
falls within the embrace of theology only inasmuch as it has an
order to God who is the efficient, final and exemplary cause of
all created beauty. On the other hand, the natural mode of
esthetic experience concentrates on the beauty of this world
which lies within the proper object of the human mind. Since
man himself is most connatural to man, human persons and
human affairs occupy the center of this stage. Ultimately these
two approaches to beauty differ because the mind can take two
different attitudes toward reality and can terminate in two
different ends. In contemplating an image the mind can terminate upon the image itself, its colors and proportions, its
intrinsic properties. But the mind can also approach an image
precisely as an image and terminate in the thing for which it
is an image. 49 For example, the local photographer and the
proud father both gaze upon a photograph. The photographer
centers his thoughts upon the photograph itself, the lights and
shadows and arrangement. But the father centers his thoughts
upon the bouncing baby boy of which the. picture is but an
image. The theologian approaches this world as an image of
God. For him the beauty of creation is but a symbol of the
beauty of the Creator. His thoughts and affections do not
terminate in the creature ·but tend toward God. The natural
esthete concentrates upon the beauty intrinsic to the world. He
takes the world quite literally. His thoughts and affections
terminate in created beauty. This is the fundamental distinction between the two approaches to beauty. One takes the
world literally and the other takes the world symbolically. One
terminates in the beauty that is connatural to man. The other
tends toward the beauty that is connatural to God.
•• Summa Theol., ll-ll, q. 108, a. 8, ad Sum: "motus qui est in imaginem in
quantum est imago refertur in rem cujus est imago, non tamen omnis motus qui
est in imaginem refertur in eam in quantum est imago. Et ideo quandoque est alius
motus specie in imaginem, et motus in rem."

178

JOHN FEARON

v
The step by step procedure from the obvious to the obscure
in delving into the meaning of " that which being seen pleases "
leads to a fuller appreciation of that formula in all its varied
aspects. The gradual ascent of the mind brings ever more complex applications into view. However, this procedure has to be
reversed before moral science can be brought to bear on these
complexities. A full understanding of the morality of esthetic
experience involves a descent from the vantage point of metaphysics.
The metaphysician universalizes the factors of cognition,
appetition, integrity, proportion and clarity. He reduces them
to their basic characteristics. For him appetite is neither natural,
sensile nor rational, but simply appetite. However, his generalizations do not proceed from logical confusion but from formal
discernment. Only from this point of view is it possible to
understand St. Thomas' statements about beauty and good.
Beauty, like goodness, is primarily in things, in objective
reality. The Angelic Doctor says, "The beautiful is the same
thing as the good, differing only conceptually. That being good
which all desire, it is of the nature of good that the appetite is
allayed by it; but it is of the nature of the beautiful that the
appetite is allayed by the sight or knowledge of it . . . and so
it is clear that the beautiful adds over and above the good a
certain order to the cognitive potency. So, let that be termed
good which simply gratifies the appetite, but let that be termed
beautiful the mere apprehension of which gives pleasure." 50
The first thing to note about this text is that being is the
basic point of :reference. The same reality is both beautiful and
good. However, they are not to be totally confused. Each has
a proper formality. Good adds to the notion of being a transcendental relation to the appetite. Beauty adds to a being a
transcendent intelligibility which contacts the cognitive potency
directly and the appetite indirectly. In differentiating goodness
from beauty the cognitive and appetitive potencies are intro•• Summa Theol., I-II, q. !'l7, a. 1, ad Sum.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

179

duced as correlative points of reference. In this passage, St.
Thomas does not probe into the reasons in being which underlie
the different relations. In other places he consistently assigns
integrity,
and clarity as the proper reasons of
beauty. 51 In speaking more deliberately of the good he also
consistently assigns mode, species and order as the proper reasons of good. By mode he understands a commensuration to
material and efficient principles prerequisite to form. Being
outside these causes the form has existence; by species he understands the specifying form itself; by order he understands an
inclination to an end, or a final cause. 52
Mode, species and order are the reasons in being underlying
its transcendental relation to appetite which constitutes the
good. Good thus has the character of a final cause. Integrity,
consonance and clarity are the reasons of beauty which order
beauty to cognitive potency. This gives beauty the character
of a formal cause. In reality beauty and goodness are the same
thing. Conceptually they differ. This is the general outline of
the metaphysical analysis of beauty and goodness.
For a fuller understanding of the connection between beauty
and goodness, and in order properly to synthesize the two, it is
necessary to delineate with accuracy the precise roles of mode,
species and order in good, and integrity, consonance and clarity
in beauty. First, as regards good St. Thomas says that the
word has a double signification. It signifies not only the relationship of perfectibility but also the basis or cause of that
relationship. He says that order is the relationship itself, species
and mode the cause. Species and mode materially dispose the
object and render it remotely appetible. To be an end, to be
perfectible of another, is what formally completes the reason of
good. 58 This order or transcendental relation in good to reduce
"'Summa Theol., I, q. 89, a. 8.
•• Summa Theol., I, q. 5, a. 5.
Q. D. de V eritate XI, q. 21, a. 6: "Et per hunc modum ratio boni respectum
implicat: non quia ipsum nomen boni significat ipsum respectum solum, sed quia
significat id ad quod sequitur respectus, cum. respectu ipso. Respectus autem qui
importatur nomine boni, est habitudo perfectivi, secundum quod aliquid natus
est perficere non solum secundum rationem speciei, sed secundum esse quod habet

180

JOHN FEARON

an appetite into efficiency is the formal element among the
three proper reasons of good. Order is what gives the good the
character of a :final cause.
Beauty also signifies both a reference or order to cognitive
potency and the basis or cause of that reference. Clarity is what
formally completes the reason of beauty. Integrity and proportion materially dispose the object. For example, color is the
material cause in the object of sight, but light is what formally
completes the reason of visibility. 5 " Clarity itself implies arelationship to cognitive potency just as order itself implies a
relationship to appetite. Integrity and consonance are the
dispositions for clarity just as mode and species are the causes
which render the good perfectible of another. The assimilation
of beauty .by a cognitive potency presupposes integrity and
consonance. But information actually takes place because of
the clarity of form: This element of beauty which enables it to
inform or actualize a cognitive faculty is the formal complement
among the three proper reasons of beauty.
St. Thomas gives the basis for synthesizing these various
reasons of good and beauty by taking appetite as the basic
point of reference. " That the appetite terminates in good, in
peace and in beauty does not mean that it terminates in diverse
things. From the very fact that one desires the good one also
desires beauty and peace: beauty inasmuch as the thing is modified and specified in itself, which is included in the reason of
good: but good adds the order of perfectibility to another.
in rebus. . . . Sic igitur inter ista tria qua.e Augustinus ponit, ultimum, scilicet
ordo, est respectus quem nomen boni importat; sed alia duo, species scilicet, et
modus, ca.usant ilium respectum. Species enim pertinet ad ipsa.m rationem speciei;
qua.e quidem secundum quod in aliquo esse habet, recipitur per aliquem modum
determinatum, cum omne quod est in aliquo sit in eo per modum recipientis. Ita
igitur unumquodque bonum in quantum est perfectivum secundum rationem speciei
et esse simul, habet modum, speciem et ordinem. Speciem quidem quantum ad
ipsa.m rationem; modum quantum ad esse; ordinem quantum ad ipsam habitudinem
perfectivi."
•• I Sent., d. 45, q. 1, a. 1, ad 1um: "in objecto alicujus potentiae est duo considerare: scilicet illud quod est materiale, et illud quod formaliter complet rationem
objecti, sicut patet in visu: quia color est visibile in potentia, et non efficitur visibile
in a.ctu nisi per a.ctum lucis. Similiter dico quod illud quod formaliter complet
rationem voliti est finis, ex quo est ratio boni. . . . "

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

181

Hence whoever desires the good by that very fact desires
beauty." 55 From this it is clear that the proper reasons of
beauty, both formal and material, a:re regarded by the appetite
as the material reasons of good. However, since the formal
element of beauty has the character of a formal cause it is
properly related to cognitive potency just as the formal element
of good which has the character of a final cause properly relates
it to appetite. But what is formal in beauty is only material in
the good.
From this metaphysical point of view the :reasons of beauty
are an approach to good and the inseparable companion of the
good. However, as these reasons are contracted and applied to
different subjects important adjustments must be made. When
God is the subject of beauty and good they are reduced to
unity. In God there is no distinction between the reasons of
goodness and His Good, between the reasons of beauty and His
Beauty. "In the first cause, namely God, a distinction must
not be made between beauty and pulchritude (the reason of
beauty) so that His Beauty would be something different from
His pulchritude. This is because the first cause contains all
things in oneness because of His simplicity and perfection.
Though in creatures beauty and pulchritude differ, in God they
are contained as one and the same thing .... " 56 God is supersubstantially beautiful and the supreme and only purely honest
good, the final cause of all that is. The enjoyment of His Beauty
is inseparable from the love of His Goodness.
In creatures, however, the reasons of beauty and goodness
are contracted and participated in multiplicity. Creatures have
beauty and goodness. They are not beauty and goodness. Furthermore, in creatures there are various levels of beauty and
55 Q. D. de Veritate XI, q. 9!2, a. l, ad l!ilum: "appetitum
terminari ad bonum
et pacem et pulchrum non est terminari in diversa. Ex hoc enim ipso quod aliquid
appetit bonum, appetit simul pulchrum et pacem: pulchrum quidem in quantum
est in seipso m:odificatum et specificatum, quod in ratione honi includitur; sed
bonum addit rationem perfectivi ad alia. Unde quicumque appetit bonum, appetit
hoc ipso pulchrum .... "
•• In de Div. Nom., c. 4, lect. 5: " ... in causa prima, scilicet Deo, non sunt
dividenda pulchrum et pulchritudo, quasi aliud sit in eo pulchrum et pulchritudo;
et hoc ... propter sui simplicitatem et perfectionem .... "

3

182

JOHN FEARON

goodness. There is a physical beauty of body and a spiritual
beauty of soul. Certainly the truly beautiful man will be a
complexus of these various participations though the mind can
isolate one or another according to its tastes. There is also a
created participation of the honest good. Virtue is sought for
its own sake. But actually even virtue has an aspect of utility
in that it is a means to beatitude. The entitative good of
existence, of course, is common to all. Corporeal beauty is often
associated with utter uselessness. Feminine charm can lead the
soul of man away from God. The best cooks are sometimes
quite ugly. In creatures the beautiful and the good are not
necessarily one and the same thing as in God. The isolated
beauty of the creature is not always the infallible approach to
man's true good.
The morality of esthetic experience depends ultimately on
the coincidence of beauty and goodness. There is no problem
about the morality of beatitude. Nor is there any problem
about the theological approach to beauty. Theology has God
for its object and views created beauty as a symbol leading to
fuller knowledge and deeper love of God. God is the infinite and
ultimate honest good. Knowing Him and loving Him and serving Him is the highest moral perfection of man. Only pride can
turn this to man's condemnation. But the case is quite different
with the natural mode of esthetic experience, which takes
created beauty quite literally, rests in its isolated perfection
and enjoys its soothing effects. When beauty is taken out of
its divine context and severed from the commensuration of the
honest good, it is not necessarily good in itself. It can be good
or bad depending upon the attitude man takes toward it.
Prudentially considered, this type of esthetic experience is only
a useful good. It is for man's recreation. It is a remedy for the
pain of weariness from the day's toil. It refreshes the soul in
preparation for tomorrow's work. And work is ordained ultimately to contemplation. Only when thus ordered to the honest
good does the natural mode of esthetic experience assume the
character of true moral goodness.

THE LURE OF BEAUTY

183

VI
But this unfortunately is not the way the moderns look at
beauty. Their historic disregard for the truths of philosophy
and theology makes them easy prey to the lure of beauty. With
unfailing ingenuity they confuse the natural and the sublime
and level of perfections which should remain sharply distinct.
The modern approaches the beauty that is connatural to man
with all the devotion that belongs to the beauty that is connatural to God. He endows the natural mode of esthetic experience
with all the advantages and none of the disadvantages of
theological contemplation. Since the analytical notion of contemplation applies somehow to both he drops out the perfections of each and picks and chooses to his heart's content.
Apparently in possession of all the grandeur of theology and
philosophy, he becomes progressively more confirmed in his distaste for" scholastic encumbrances." The palpitating satisfactions of a mangled esthetic are readily available to the ingenius
and the artistic. But the unfortunate result is that a mind
which was made to know God is satisfied in knowing itself. For
infatuated with the child of his own intellect, the modern distains that "Child" of the mind of God, the Incarnate Word
which is the only source of fallen man's return to wisdom.
Having abandoned the solid moorings of truth and goodness
it is little wonder that modern artists have turned to cultivating
the ugly. With self-expression as a first principle their art
necessarily conforms to themselves. In a measure the beauty
of nature satisfies man's desire to know the concrete individuaL
Its effulgence and intelligibility make this possible. However,
to emphasize the common notion that esthetic experience is
intuition of the material individual and to deny the further
limitation that this presupposes beauty in the object paves the
way for the art of ugliness. The next step is to eliminate the
conditions of beauty and impose by art an intelligibility that is
neither true nor good. Hence, in the interests of complete
freedom the modern masterpiece is utterly ugly.
Furthermore, in the very rational and analytical notions of

184

JOHN FEARON

beauty and good there is a certain coincidence which is realized
fully only in God. The modern applies that coincidence quite
shamelessly to the creature. This confusion completes his
abandonment of classic Christianity and rounds out his new
religion of culture. He makes man's perfection consist in a
life devoted to beauty for its own sake. Since his beauty is
automatically good there is no need for the rigors of religion and
the discipline of the sacraments. There is no need for virtue.
There is no need for mortification. His cult is culture. Deep
insights, intuitions and genius are his code. Beauty for its own
sake is his creed. Like the chemist who isolates oxygen, the
modern pursues beauty in a free state, liberated from God and
liberated from the Church. But what the modern makes his
perfection the Saints have shunned for folly. The Saints first
looked after goodness and truth and beauty took care of herself.
What the moderns need is a return to goodness and truth, to
virtue and theology, then "beauty will take care of herself."
JoHN FEARON,

Dominican House of Studies,
Washington, D. C.

0. P.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION OF PRACTICAL
VALUES

P

LANTS, animals, and men are contingently vital beings,
and as such are. subject to constant attacks by other
forces which threaten to deprive them of their perfection
of vitality. They must be able to orientate themselves properly
to the world of external reality if they are to continue on in a
state of life. Activity of many sorts is incumbent upon all of
them if they are to live; but the activity demanded for life is
not a disconnected, random activity, nor is it merely a speculative activity concerned only with contemplation of truth as
such. In the plant domain there is no knowledge, no possibility
of self-determination-in short, there is no psychic consciousness of any sort. But in the animal and human kingdoms there
is a conscious life. The animal and the man must become aware
of values, of subtle overtones accruing to each and every object
of external reality existing in the milieu in which animal or man
must seek the conditions needed for maintenance of life. This
knowledge is not a speculative knowledge, it is interested rather
in action. But art and prudence also are intetested in action,
and as a consequence it might be objected that there is confusion here in our distinction. Let it suffice to note that art
and prudence are virtues of an intellectual nature, that their
knowledge has a certain rational element which differentiates
it from the pure sense knowledge which we encounter on the
first level of psychic life. Moreover, the knowledge of art and
prudence is orientated toward supplying the conditions for a
higher type of life, a type not demanded for the simple predication of life on the physical level. The knowledge and consequent activity which men and animals share are concerned with
the maintenance and propagation of physical life; their proper
causality never rises above the sentient order. These capacities

185

186

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

for knowledge and action on the sense level are traditionally
called instincts, and our purpose is to investigate their nature.
To categorize briefly the methods of considering instincts,
we may say that instincts can be considered as psychophysiological phenomena of the cognitive order, or as biological functions. Those adopting the latter point of view may be divided
into the mechanists and the vitalists. We are not as yet
interested in investigating the nature of the knowledge of instincts, the transcendental relationship existing between this
type of knowing power and the external world. We are here on
the first level of abstraction where we shall consider properties
of material vital forms by that abstraction proper to the biological sciences.
Instinctive activity is a phenomenon that has been one of the
first properties of animal life remarked by all observers of vital
activity. And among the striking characteristics of instinctive
activity, its purposeful and unlearned method of functioning
is paramount: from the very moment of birth creatures endowed with locomotion move about in their environment in
such wise as to seek and appropriate those things which are
conducive to the maintenance of life. The sensations that rush
pell mell are in some manner sifted and judged, whereupon the
useful are responded to positively and the harmful negatively.
That is the fact-the explanation is more doubtful. Is there
some factor in the instinctive process which is not to be predicated of the matter as such, but rather is a principle entangled
in the matter of the body? We have arrived at the point
whence arose two schools of biological thought, the Mechanists
and the Vitalists. 1
With the doctrine of Descartes the great dichotomy of reality
was effected: all things could be classed either as spiritual, or
thought, reality-in this realm all extension was excluded, or as
matter, or extended reality-here all thought was excluded.
The psychic was co-extensive with the realm of thought, and
all outside of the psychic was to be equated with matter.
1 I do not intend to' go into a historical study of the doctrines on instinct held by
various philosophers and ,psychologists. An excellent historical treatise on this
matter can be found in the book of J. Drever, Instinct in Man, cc. 1-3.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

187

Descartes is the first man we wish, to consider, not so much
because of any important doctrine that he might be able to
render on the nature of instincts, as because he is a source of
influences that were later to bear upon the development of the
concept of instincts. The passions of the soul are to be distinguished, according to him, from those of the body. The
passions of the soul are all those perceptions or cognitions found
in us which are not caused by the soul, and which derive from
things from without. 2 But to be a passion of the soul properly
so called, such a perception cannot have any cause other than
the soul. Of such a nature are joy, anger, and other psychic
states caused either by excitation of the nerves or by some other
cause. 3 The perceptions or passions of the body are hunger,
thirst, and other such natural appetites, to which affective
states such as " pain, heat and other affective states which we
experience in our members " can be joined. These affective
qualities are not in the objects outside us, but in ourselves. 4
Descartes did not interest himself in a psychological investigation of these perceptions or passions, for he considered the
passions explicable in terms of animal spirits which were transmitted along the nerves. 5 He did, however, have some idea of
what shall later be refined into the concept of an instinct. The
external world arouses in us various passions not because of
qualities in the physical objects, but because of the different
manners in which they aid or harm us. The passions dispose the
soul to desire things which are by nature of use to the organism,
and which ordinarily dispose the body to execute actions whereby we shall carry out some activity encompassing a useful end. 6
Descartes, Les Passions de l'Ame, part I, art. 17.
Ibid., part I, art. 25.
• Ibid., part I, art. 24.
• Ibid., part I, arts. 27 and 46.
• Ibid., part ll, art. 52: " Je remarque outre cela, que les objets qui meuvent
2

8

les sens n'excitent pas en nons, diverses passions a raison de toutes les diversite qui
sont en eux, mais seulement a raison des diverses fao;;ons qn'ils nons peuvent nuire
on profiter, on bien en general etre importants; et que l'usage de toutes les passions
consiste en cela seul qu'elles disposent l'ame a vouloir les choses que la nature dicte
comme aussi la meme' agitation des
nons etre ntiles, et a persister en cette
esprits qui a coutume de Ies causer dispose le corps aux mouvements qui servent a
!'execution de ces choses .... "

188

WILLIAM

A.

This is an important observation by Descartes, for it is pregnant with meaning for the theory of instinct. But Descartes is
more important in the history of the theory of instinct because
of the framework of thought which he set up, and within which
he confined all speculation on vital phenomena. We should not
be deceived, by the statements set forth by Descartes in his
treatise on the passions of the soul, into thinking that he is a
vitalist. For Descartes there were only two realities, extension
and· thought.· These were mutually exclusive. Thought and all
psychic processes-passions, sensations, etc.-were the attributes of the soul; and the soul was predicated of man alone. All
that was below man, even though it exhibited vital phenomena,
was not psychic but only mechanic, determined by laws of
chemistry and physics. Thus was set up a dichotomy of reality
which forced all investigators to attribute vital manifestations
to the rational soul alone, and to deny all vital predicates to
those beings which are not rational. This means that the animal
nature was to be regarded as a machine incapable of any psychic activity. With the philosophical tenets furnished by the
Cartesian teachings, biologists could approach the study of nonrational, or animal, life with the preconception that all phenomena found. there would be explicable by the same principle
used in the realms of physics and chemistry. 7
In the more elaborated forms of the mechanistic interpretation of vital activity, we find two chief trends: one explains life
on the basis of tropism, the other on the basis of reflex action.
Of the tropism theory, Loeb may be cited as the chief proponent among modern biologists, while Spencer and Pavlov are
well known for their advocacy of the reflex theory.
7 Malebranche,
a direct disciple of Descartes' teaching, gives fine expression to
the logical results of the Cartesian dichotomy when he says: "Les animaux n'ont
done ni intelligence ni ame, comme on l'admet habituellement. Tis se reproduissent
sans le savoir, ils ne souhaitent rien. Tis mangent sans satisfaction, ils crient sans
souffrances, ne craignent rien, ne connaissent rien et, lorsqu'ils agissent d'une fac;on
qui semble indiquer de !'intelligence, c'est parce que Dieu a cree les animaux pour
les maintenir en vie et qu'il a forme leurs corps de telle fac;on que machinalement
et sans crainte ils eyitent tout ce qui pourrait amener leur perte." Quoted by F.
Buytendijk, Psychologie des Animaux,

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

189

According to Loeb the current idea of instincts as manifestations of purposeful behavior irreducible to physico-chemical
principles is a " diehard " remnant of the old a priori doctrine
of "design" in the universe. 8 The truth can be learned about
instincts by showing that they are founded on principles which
are valid in physics. The most striking phenomena to prove the
purely material nature of instinctive activity are to be found
in cases of heliotropism. There are other types of tropisms
which play an important part in instinctive action, such as
chemotropism and stereotropism, but Loeb has dealt primarily
with the heliotropism in his book The Organism as a Whole.
The positively heliotropic animal cannot tear itself loose from
the attraction of light, for it is bound to seek the light with the
same blind determinism that marks any chemical or physical
reaction. Thus Loeb explains the basis of his theory:
. . . Animals possess photosensitive elements on the surface of
their bodies, in the eyes, or occasionally also in epithelial cells of
their skin. These photosensitive elements are arranged symmetrically in the body and through nerves are connected with symmetrical groups of muscles. The light causes chemical changes in the
eyes (or the photosensitive elements of the skin). The mass of
photochemical reaction products formed in the retina (or its homologues) influences the central nervous system and through the
tension of energy production of the muscles. If the rate of photochemical reaction is equal on both eyes this effect on the symmetrical muscles is equal, and the muscles of both sides of the body work
with equal energy; as a consequence the animal will not be deviated
from the direction in which it was moving. This happens when the
axis or plane of symmetry of the animal goes through the source of
light, provided only one source of light be present. If, however,
the light falls sidewise upon the animal the rate of photochemical
.Teaction will be unequal in both eyes and the rate at which the
symmetrical muscles of both sides of the body work will no longer
be equal; as a consequence the direction in which the animal moves
will change. This change will take place in one of two ways, according as the animal is either positively or negatively heliotropic;
in the positively heliotropic animal the resulting motion will be
toward, in the negatively heliotropic from, the light. Where we
8

J. Loeb, The Organism as a Whole, 288.

190

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

have no central nervous system, as in plants or lower animals, the
tension of the contractile or turgid organs is influenced in a different
way, which we need not discuss here. 9

That these tropistic actions are beneficial to both the individual and the species-thus fulfilling all the purposes for which
the concept of instincts was instituted as an explanation of a
particular type of vital activity- is proved by Loeb from his
experiments with the caterpillars of Porthesia chrysorrhea. 10
Loeb's theory, therefore, reduces all explanations of vital phenomena to a strict mechanism, and offers as corroboration of its
tenets definite experimental proof. But biologists have not been
unanimous in their acceptance of his explanations. Buytendijk
and Jennings have examined the statements of Loeb and have
found them insufficient; consequently, our attention must now
turn to the refutation of the tropism theory.
Jennings has done extensive work in investigating the validity
of the tropism theory, and through his experiments with infusoria he has added many facts which cause doubt to be thrown
upon this theory.
According to Jennings there are two main points in this
theory: (1) All movements of organisms, be they approach or
flight, can be attributed to orientation, by which is meant that,
without any self-determination on the part of the organism,
it must either approach or withdraw from the source of stimulation. (2) The stimulating force controlling movement does
not produce its effect upon the whole body but only upon that
" Ibid.,
° Cf. ibid., 280-288. Loeb extends his tropism theory to explain certain activities

1

in higher animals such as man. For instance the love a man has for a woman is
only a complex tropism consisting of secretions of the sexual glands into the blood
stream, coupled at the same time with memory images of the beloved. Removal
of the sex glands will cause the disappearance of the affection. "L'amour constant
d'un homme pour un sujet feminin determine nous peut apparaitre comme un
exemple de volition persistante et pourtant c'est un tropisme complique, par lequel
des substances des glandes sexuelles sont deversees dans le sang et, des images
mernoratives definies en sont les facteurs determinants. L'ablation des glandes
sexuelles fait disparaitre !'amour et Ia substitution des glandes sexuelles d'un sujet
par celles d'un autre sexe conduirait a l'inversion totale des instincts sexuels."
Quoted by Buytendijk, op. cit., 58-54.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

191

part where it directly impinges. In those parts of the body
which are directly affected, it causes direct changes in the state
of contraction of the motor organs of the directly affected
part of the body, and to these direct changes is due the movement of the organism. 11 The problem, then, shapes up into
two questions to which an answer must be sought: (1) Is the
behavior we observe in these organisms brought about by
orientation in the manner demanded by the tropism theory?
(2) Is there conclusive evidence that the stimulus acts directly
up the motor organs of that part of the body which the stimulus
affects? We shall here set down the results obtained by Jennings
from his experiments in which he subjected small organisms to
various types of stimuli.
1. Reactions to mechanical stimuli. The mechanical stimuli
consisting of touching or striking the body with a hard object
over a definite area do not serve too well to set up the conditions necessary for a tropistic reaction; but they will serve to
give us some general information on the reaction to stimuli.
Mechanical shock as a rule causes animals to turn away from
the source of the stimulus, and in higher animals the turning
away is usually from the side stimulated. What is worthy of
note is that Jennings finds that in ciliate infusoria the movement
of avoidance is not due to an external but to an internal factor:
sylonychia turns to the right whether it is stimulated on the
right or the left side, the dorsal area, or the anterior end. Consequently, we cannot say that the action is merely upon the
motor organs of the part stimulated, for if this were so there
would be no explanation for this constant turning to the right
11 Jennings, Behavwr of Lower Organisms, 92. In the same place he gives the
following quotation from Loeb in which these two points are set forth: " The
explanation of them (the tropisms) depends first upon the specific irritability of
certain elements of the body surface, and, second, upon the relations of symmetry
of the body. Symmetrical elements at the surface of the body have the same
irritability; unsymmetrical elements have a different irritability. Those nearer the
oral pole possess an irritability greater than that of those near the aboral pole.
These circumstances force an animal to orient itself toward a source of stimulus in
such a way that symmetrical points on the body surface are stimulated equally.
In this way the animals are led without will of their own either toward the source
of stimulus or away from it."

192

WILLIAM A. GERHARD

no matter where the stimulus is applied. The organism must
react as a whole, and directly, to the stimulus-not partially
and indirectly. How else can this constancy of action be explained? 12
Studies on the reaction of the flatworm to mechanical stimuli
have been made by Pearl, and from his experiments he concludes that when the flatworm turns towards the source of
stimulation in a positive reaction the cause is not to be sought
in the simple explanation of the motor organs of the stimulated
part reacting alone and directly, but rather in the unified
response of the organism.
A light stimulus, when the organism is in a certain definite condition, sets off a reaction involving (1) an equal bilateral contraction
of the circular musculature, producing the extension of the body;
(fl) a contraction of the longitudinal musculature of the side stimulated, producing the turning toward the sti:rtmlus (this is the
definitive part of the reaction); and (3) contraction of the dorsal
longitudinal musculature, producing the raising of the anterior end.
In this reaction the sides do not act independently, but there is a
delicately balanced and finely coordinated reaction of the organism
as a whole, depending for its existence on an entirely normal physiological condition.13
Such experimental data serve to throw no little discredit upon
the postulate of the tropism theory in which it is stated that
all movement is explicable by the reaction of the motor organs
in the part directly stimulated. For here we see the entire
musculature reacting with a unified movement in response to a
stimulus.
2. Reactions to chemicals. Considering reactions of this
type as they bear upon the postulate concerning the orientation to stimuli which the organism is forced to assume by the
nature of the stimuli, Jennings concludes from his studies in
various sorts of Ciliata, Bacteria, Flagellata, Rotifera, and flatworms, that nowhere has the typical reaction been found to
take the form demanded by the tropism theory. In these organisms he has observed a certain motor reflex consisting of a
'"Jennings,

op. cit., 94-95.

18

Quoted by Jennings, op. cit., 95.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

193

backing away, followed by a turning toward a structurally defined side, but without any regard for the direction whence
comes the diffusion of the chemical. According to the tropism
theory, the organisms should assume a definite position to the
stimulating source, which should figure as the dominating factor
in determining action of these organisms, but the facts deny
this postulate. 14
3. Reactions to .light. The phenomenon manifested in the

reaction to stimuli of light has served as the chief basis for the
theory of tropisms. In the presence of light the organism usually shows a definite orientation towards the source of the
stimulus: the axis of the body will usually move parallel to the
light, be it in approaching or retreating from the light. This
fact appears to serve as fine corroboration of the tropism theory,
but the matter must be more thoroughly investigated. The
question remains whether or not this orientation takes place
with the determinism characteristic of the physical laws which
the tropism theory claims explain all vital activity. In the case
of bilateral animals, it is found difficult to test the theory because the animals may turn toward either side, and, consequently, it is a problem whether the turning is due to the direct
action on the motor organs of the part affected, or is the result
of the organism reacting as a whole to a stimulus because of
some physiological change induced by the stimulus. 15
Jennings has carried on experiments with Stentors having a
negative phototaxis; the point he wished to show was that these
animals turned away from light not in a reaction to a difference
in illumination, as the tropism theory demands, but rather in
reaction to a structurally defined side without any regard for
the direction whence the light comes, or for the side of the
><Jennings, op. cit., 96, quotes the following from Pearl's study on flatworms'
reaction to chemicals: "Planaria does not orient itself to a diffusing chemical in
longitudinal axis of the body is parallel to the lines of diffusing
such a way that
ions. Its reactions to chemicals are motor reflexes identical with those to mechanical
stimuli. The positive reaction is an orienting reaction in the sense that it directs
the anterior end of the body toward the source of stimulus with considerable pre•
cision but it does not bring about an orientation of the sort defined above."
15 Jennings, op. cit., 98-99.

194

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

animal upon which it falls. The typical motor reaction of a
Stentor which appears in the response of the animal to mechanical, chemical, and heat stimuli, is to stop or swim backward a
short way, then turn to the right aboral side, and continue its
forward motion. When a Stentor moves from the shaded area
into a lighted area, Jennings has observed the following positions of the animal and the respective reactions from each
position:
A. Reaching the lighted portion with its aboral side directed
toward the light, the Stentor performs its usual turn toward
the aboral side, thus swinging its anterior end toward the source
of light. But this is in opposition to the orientation postulated
by the tropism theory, for that posulate states that the animal
will always assume a position in which its body axis is parallel
to the rays of light. What actually happens is that the anterior
end is swung past the point where the light falls on it directly
until the animal is again directed into the shadows.
B. The Stentor may arrive at the lighted portion with its
aboral side directed away from the light, whereupon, turning
as usual to the aboral side, it swings the anterior end away from
the light source.
C. Again upon entering into the light with the aboral side
directed upward or downward or in some other intermediate
position, the Stentor will turn to the right aboral side no matter
which way this side is directed. 16
Jennings has concluded, therefore, that the reaction of Stentor
is one of the whole organism, resulting from an illumination of
the whole organism. The direction of the light makes no difference in the reaction: the reaction is always the same, i.e., turning towards the right aboral side until the anterior end is removed from the light. There is not observable any fact showing
that direct orientation to the light is present, as demanded by
the tropism theory. According to this th,eory the turning of
the organism should be directed into the line of the external
source of energy, should be determined by the side upon which
'"Jennings, op. cit., 76-77.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

195

this force impinges. But, in fact, the reaction is not determined
by external factors, rather it is regulated by internal factors;
that is to say, the animal determines its reaction to the stimulus
and is not the inert pawn of a material force acting upon it.
In the Stentor the typical reaction to a light stimulus is not that
demanded by the tropism theory. For instance, in a Stentor
placed at a right angle to a source of light falling upon its right
side, the tropism theory would state that the reaction would
consist of a ninety-degree swing of the anterior end, facing away
from the stimulus. What actually happens is that the anterior
end is swung in an arc towards the light until the anterior end
has somewhat passed the hundred and eighty degree angle,
and is pointing diagonally away from the stimulus. 17
From these experimental data passed in review here, we may
safely conclude that the postulates of the tropism theory are not
borne out in reality. Orientation, as understood by the proponents of the tropism theory, cannot account for the movements
of animals into, or out of, certain regions; for these movements
are not orientated with a strict determinism imposed by the
external agent. Rather they are movements depending upon
internal factors of structure and of conditioning by experience.
Even in the case of phototaxis, where it seems that tropism
has some basis for its assertions, there is not a determinism, but
rather a typical movement or motor reaction independent of the
source of the stimulus is observable. Again, the facts deny the
assertion that the organism does not react as a whole to the
stimulus, but that only the motor organs of the part stimulated
react directly. No matter upon what side the Stentor receives
the stimulus, its typical motor reaction is towards the right
aboral side. In these experiments. with mechanical, chemical,
and light stimuli, the organism has always appeared to react
as a whole, and not as a part, to the new element introduced
into its vicinity. Armed with the experimental data afforded by
Jennings we may turn to answer two questions: Is the positive
or negative movement of an animal imperative or forced? Are
17 Jennings, op. cit., 48-45. For diagram illustrating the last statement see page
44 of same work.

196

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

all changes in direction of movement to be explained by the
unequal action of some stimulus upon the sides of the body?
Clearly, the movements are not determined imperatively by the
external factor, as is shown by the Stentor who may take any
direction in swinging its anterior end away from the light. If
these movements were determined as are physical phenomena,
there could be no variation ill the course of reaction followed.
Nor can the second question be answered in the affirmative, for
the Stentor carries out its typical motor reaction of turning
toward the right aboral side no matter what side of the body
is stimulated.
Beside the tropistic mechanists may be placed the reflex
mechanists who explain vital phenomena on the basis of reflex
action. This form of mechanism differs from the tropistic form
in that it is limited to those vital beings in which a nervous
system is discernible. The advocates of this theory deny any
factors in behavior that transcend the material. The milieu in
which the animal moves, and to which it must orientate itself,
has no significance, no potentialities for activity upon the
organism, beyond the physical energies with which it bombards
the senses of the animal. But, be it noted, in delving into the
nature of the environment, or object, determining the animal's
activity, we have at the same time been gaining insight into the
animal's powers of apprehending external fact. For between an
operative power and, its object there. is a perfect proportion,
so that neither the power nor the object has any meaning without reference to the other .18 Consequently, if for the reflex
mechanists the environment of the animal is a mass of merely
physical nerve stimuli, then it follows that the animal is nothing
more than a mass of in some way coordinated afferent and
efferent nerve
connected to appropriate receptor and
effector organs.
Spencer begins his treatment of instinct by describing it as
a compound reflex action. 19 Instinct is to be distinguished
18

eCTT!
19

b,
.q o€ TDV alcr87]TOV ePEP'YeLa real TijS alcr8-ljcrews
p.ev rca! p.la, TO o' elva! ov TO av'ro avTais.

Aristotle, De Anima,

H. Spencer, Principles of Paychology, I,

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

197

from simple reflexes in which a single impression is followed by
a single contraction; nor is instinct merely a more developed
form of reflex in which a single impression is followed by a
combination of contractions. In instincts there is both a combination of impressions and a combination of contractions; both
the directive and executive side are complex and grow more
complex the higher the instinct is. 20
But Spencer does not place instinct on the same level as
simple reflex action as the latter is found in internal visceral
functions. He sees in instinct a reduction of many diffused
simultaneous stimuli into a unified system of impressions. This
unity is brought about by the rapid procession of the stimuli
through some ganglion which is subject to the influence of all
of the stimuli, and to the particular change characteristic of the
action of each. These changes, he thinks, are recorded in some
sort of rudimentary consciousness. Moreover, instinct differs
from simple bodily activity in that it answers to more specialized features of the environment, while the simple reflex will
react to the general relations existing between all organisms
and their environments? 1
In the course of evolution certain internal states-whose
nature is difficult to determine-have come to follow each other
in a certain order, and each time they become more closely
joined until finally these states become inseparable. Subsequently one state cannot be aroused without having the joined
states spring into being at the same time. Here, then, is the
evolution of an instinct: the repetition of certain psychic states
arranged in a definite order becomes embedded in the nature of
a species after generations in which the identical experience has
been repeated. Eventually there is an automatic connection
set up between the modes of reaction and the external relations
constantly experienced. Instinct, therefore, results from the
closer and closer adhesion of definite inner states in response to
definite objects in the environment exercising a physical influence upon the subject. Instinct is the expression of a heredi20

Ibid., I, 433-434.

4

n

Ibid., 434-435.

198

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

tary relationship of subject to object evolved by generations of
identical experience. 22
For Pavlov and most members of the Russian school, there
is no source of motivation except the physiological one, and all
internal and external activity can be considered successfully
" from a purely physiological angle!' All activity can be explained on the basis of neurological facts, for. the nervous system is that physiological factor which integrates all parts of the
organism within itself and orientates it in regard to the environment in which it finds itself, tending to set up an equilibrium
between the two. Pavlov distinguishes between the two functions by terming the former, the inner synthetic process, the
lower order of activity; and the latter, that concerned with behavior, the higher order of activity. Motion is the visible
manifestation of the higher animal behavior. It results from the
skeleto-muscular activity in which there is a hierarchy of functions; on the lower levels there is activity of single muscles,
while on the higher level there are small groups of muscles
acting as functional units. As we rise in the order of activity,
we encounter locomotor acts in which there is a higher integration. Besides this activity there is an activity of the organism
of a special type. It consists of movements destined to propagate the species and preserve the organism. These functions
consist of motor and secretory reactions. Such actions consist
of two distinct aspects: there is a complete synthesis between
activity of internal organs for the carrying out of a definite type
of external motor activity; secondly, these synthesized movements are ruled by a rigid law which makes them susceptible
to the influence of only definite kinds of stimuli. These mechanically determined movements are " unconditioned reflexes,"
called by some " instincts, tendencies, inclinations, etc." 23
Ibid., 436-442.
I. P. Pavlov, "A Brief Outline of the Higher Nervous Activity," Psychologies
of 1930, 207: "At the present moment, on the basis of thirty years of experimentation carried out by me together with my numerous co-workers, I feel fully justified
in asserting that the total external as well as internal activity of a higher animal,
such as a dog, can be studied with complete success from a purely physiological
angle, i. e., by the physiological method and in terms of the physiology of the
22

23

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

199

The anatomical basis of these activities is to be found in the
basal ganglia and the cerebral hemispheres. The basal ganglia
of themselves are not capable of executing the proper" analysis
and synthesis of the external milieu " without the aid of the
cerebral hemispheres. These hemispheres gather together the
various stimuli, differentiate between them or combine them so
as to make of them " signals of basic and necessary conditions
of the external milieu." With this refining of the influences from
the external world, the ganglia, whose activity is towards this
world of outer reality, can adjust their activity so that it can
orientate the organism in its activity towards the objects about
it in the way best suited to the interests of the organism. 24
nervous system. . . . The activity of the nervous system is directed, on the one
hand, towards unification, integrating the work of all the parts of the organism,
and, on the other, towards connecting the organism with the surrounding milieu,
towards an equilibrium between the system of the organism and the external conditions. The former part of nervous activity may be called lower nervous activity
in contradistinction to the latter part, which because of its complexity and
delicacy, may justly take the name of higher nervous activity, which is usually
called animal or human behavior. The chief manifestation of higher animal behavior, i. e., its visible reaction to the outside world, is motion-a result of its
skeleto-muscular activity accompanied to some extent by secretion due to the
activity of glandular tissues. The skeleto-muscular movement, beginning on the
lower level with the activity of separate muscles and of small groups of muscles
on the upper, reaches a higher integration in the locomotor acts, in the equilibrium
of a number of separate parts, or of the whole organism in motion, with the force
of gravity. Moreover, the organism in its surrounding milieu, with all its objects
and influences, performs special movements in accordance with the preservation of
the organism and of its species. These constitute reactions to food, defense, sex,
and other motor and, partly, secretory reactions. These special acts of motion
and secretion are performed, on the one hand, with a complete synthesis of the
internal activity of the organism, i.e., a complete synthesis of the internal organs
for the realization of a given external motor activity; on the other hand, they are
excited in a stereotyped way by definite and not numerous external and internal
stimuli. We call these acts unconditioned, special, complex reflexes. Others attribute
to them various names: instincts, tendencies, inclinations, etc. The stimuli of these
acts we shall call correspondingly unconditioned stimuli."
24 Ibid., QOS: " The anatomical substratum of these activities is to be found in
the subcortical centers, the basal ganglia nearest to the cerebral hemispheres. These
unconditioned, special reflexes constitute the most essential basis of the external
behavior of the animal. However, alone these responses of the higher animal
without any additional activities, are not sufficient for the preservation of the
individual and the species. A dog with extirpated cerebral hemispheres may manifest all these responses and yet, abandoned, it unavoidably perishes in a very short

200

WILLIAM A. GERHARD

Pavlov's doctrine is a pure expression of the most radical
theory of mechanism as the ruling principle of all animal and
human activity. By setting up the basal ganglia and the
cerebral hemispheres as the judges at whose decisions the organism responds to the inrush of the external stimuli, he has with
the utmost directness reduced all life to a reciprocal action of
chemical and physical forces in which there is no room for selfdetermination. At best the physico-chemical forces, under the
modality of living matter, exhibit the phenomenon of being
conditioned to respond to other stimuli than the naturally
ordained stimulus. But this ability of modified, conditioned
response is not due to an essential or radical difference between
living and inanimate matter; there are certain properties of
matter which can be realized only under the conditions accruing
to what we call life.
As a point of departure in our brief consideration of the
mechanist doctrine, we should note that mechanism reduces the
animal to a mere reflex machine. The animal is one expression
of physical phenomena. Yet in decerebrated animals we have
evidence which does not entirely justify the mechanistic hypothesis. For such animals, although there is a reaction to physical
stimuli, the sensations have no meaning; there is no perception
in the proper sense of that word. Fer instance, a decerebrated
falcon will leap at a mouse introduced into her cage, but once
the mouse is seized nothing further happens? 5 For animals thus
time. In order that the individual and the species be preserved a supplementary
apparatus must, of necessity, be added to the basal ganglia-the cerebral hemispheres. This apparatus makes a thorough analysis and synthesis of the external
milieu, i. e., it either differentiates or combines its separate elements in order to
make of them or their combinations numberless signals of basic and necessary
conditions of the external milieu, towards which is directed and set the activity of
subcortical ganglia. In this manner the ganglia have the opportunity to adjust,
with fine precision, their activity to external conditions-finding food where it may'
be found, avoiding danger with certainty, etc. Moreover, a further important detail to be considered is that these numberless external agents, now isolated and
now combined, are not permanent but only temporary stimuli of subcortical ganglia,
in accordance with the incessant fluctuations of the environment, i. e., only when
they signal correctly the fundamental and necessary conditions for the existence of
the animal, which conditions serve as unconditioned stimuli of these ganglia."
•• M. Prince, The Unconscious, !l35.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

201

maimed there is no difference between objects as far as significance is concerned. These facts, of course, seem to substantiate
the mechanistic hypothesis concerning animal behavior. Yet
this is too simple and shallow an explanation. The decerebrated
animal does not prove conclusively that animal behavior is the
result of merely mechanical activity. It shows that for the
perfection of animal action there is demanded as a prerequisite
a perfect neural foundation including as its most important
factor an intact cerebrum. That the neural basis is necessary
as a partial cause cannot be denied by anyone; but there is a
great difference between attributing to the cerebrum the function of a partial cause and predicating the cerebrum as the
proper and only cause of animal activity.
Animal activity is marked by an apparent teleology which
cannot be explained satisfactorily on a purely neurological basis.
It is objected that teleology is a concept read into animal activity by the human; but by teleology in animal action we mean
only that there is observable in animal functions that action
resulting in attainment of goals beneficial to both species and
individual, and this is a type of action identical with that action
of ourselves which we term teleological. That the cerebrum and
all neuro-muscular and skeleto-muscular apparatus in the animal is necessary as a partial cause in the functioning of the
animal is not denied. But that the cerebrum or any other part
of the physiological organism can be predicated as the proper
cause of animal activity, we say, is not apparent. The experiments with decerebrated animals are not conclusive proofs of
the mechanistic theory. Indeed, even a man such as Loeb has
recourse to an entity like memory to account for the anomalies
in the action of these maimed animals? 6
These decerebrated beasts act without purpose yet they still
have their " inherited neural arrangements and dispositions."
But even with these assets the animal cannot behave with that
teleology which is observable in the activity of a normal organism. Th.e crucial point is not that the actions of the animal are
•• Prince, op. cit., !75-!76.

202

WILLIAM A. GERHARD

interfered with, but that the direction of these actions has been
destroyed. It is difficult to believe that the cerebrum, which
does not differ essentially, but only in complexity, from the subcortical levels, should be able of itself to induce into a milieu
the distinctly immaterial note of significance or meaning.
Schraeder eloquently states that for the pigeon deprived of its
cerebrum
... everything is only a mass of matter in space, it moves aside
for every pigeon or attempts to climb over it, just as it would in the
case of a stone. All authors agree in the statement that to these
animals all objects are alike. They have no enemies and no friends.
They live like hermits no matter in how large a company they find
themselves. The languishing coo of the male makes as little impression upon the fema1e deprived of its cerebrum as the rattling
of peas or the whistle which formerly made it hasten to its feeding
place. Neither does the female show interest in its young. The
young ones that have just learned to :fly pursue the mother, crying
unceasingly for food, but they might as well beg food of a stone. 27

As the quotation states, relations such as that of enemy and
friend, or mother and offspring, no longer exist for this animal
which has become a physiological reflex automaton. But in the
cerebrum we would only have had a greater synthesis of the
physical energies given off by the corporeal or material part of
that object known by the animal to be a friend or an enemy, an
offspring or one not of the brood. There is here some element
not contained in the purely physical energies, something that
cannot be sensed. By no power of synthesis of nervous impulses
can there be introduced the note of friend or enemy. To account
for this more subtle aspect of an object which determines the
reaction of a normal animal to this object, we must look to
some other factor, a factor not allowed for by the pure mechanist. That the cerebrum is a partial cause in animal activity is
to be conceded completely, and consequently its destruction
will hinder the animal in its functions. The hindrance will not
be, however, on the directive side, but only on the motor side.
To account for the lack of direction we must have some power
that can interpret the meaning of the impulses received and
•• Quoted by Prince, op. cit., !l86.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

208

synthesized by the cerebrum-there must be a psyche, a vital
force, capable of giving direction to those motor acts begun by
the impulses that are received in and synthesized by the cerebrum. Only a double causality consisting of a psychic as well
as a physiological, which is primarily neural, activity can account for animal behavior.
With this final consideration of mechanistic theories we have
come to the end of the part of this study in which we have been
able to consider the question of instincts with the abstraction
proper to biological sciences. Heretofore we have been involved
in an investigation whose principal concern was to sift out
principles from the mass of sense data furnished us from observation of animal life. We have now reached the point at which
we go behind the wall of sense data to investigate the source of
these activities that we have observed. Here we encounter the
difference between the mechanistic and the vitalistic biologists:
the former deny that there is a " beyond the material " realm
in which to seek for the source of the animal's activity; while
the latter posit the existence of some immaterial principle residing within the vital material being as the source of its mode
of activity. But even the vitalistic biologist cannot pierce the
veil of phenomena to consider this immaterial principle-that is
proper to the philosopher of nature whose habitus scientiae is
such that it fits him to consider the nature of this vital principle,
this form whose connatural mode of existence is in matter. 28
28 The division of sciences, laid down by Aristotle in his treatise De Anima, I, 408
b, 9-16, and later elaborated by St. Thomas in his Oommentarium supl'!r Boethii de
Trinitate, q. 5, is of special relevance for those engaged in studies of biology,
epistemology, or psychology. The confusion of these three fields and the consequent invalidation of conclusions arrived at, is largely due to an ignorance of the
proper orientation of the respective sciences, of the principles commanding each of
these sciences, and of the application of these principles in these three departments
of knowledge. Both the biologist and the psychologist find their proper place in the
first sphere of abstraction where forms are considered which can neither be thought
of nor exist without a relationship to matter. In this sphere one abstracts entirely
from the individuality proper to material beings, and considers them as material
beings qua such. Yet within this sphere whose proper object is ens mobile seu
sensibile, the investigator can follow an ascending or descending progression; i. e.,
insofar as one follows the ascending progression the analysis will emphasize the
term ens, the investigation will concern itself not 'with that which is more material

204

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

In all of the theories so far reviewed there are certain elements of truth, but they have failed to analyze the specific
nature of instinct with sufficient acuteness. In the instinct it is
true that the reflex mechanism is of essential importance, but
this activity is not to be equated with instinct. It is true that
instinct seems to be somewhere between pure reflex activity and
intelligent operation; and, too, the idea that instincts are a
sympathetic intuition or divining of one object by another has
a place in a theory of instinct. But in none of these attempts
to explain instinct has there been a sufficiently accurate analysis
and specification of instinct. It is the purpose of the following
portions of this article to give a more accurate description of
the instinct as it exists in all beings sharing in the animal
nature. But our task must go further: each instinct is one element of a higher power of the animal nature. The animal is
endowed with a certain discrimination constituted by an
amalgamated whole of instinct modified by experience. Our
immediate problem, however, is: What is instinct?
Two recent scholars, McDougall and Buytendijk, have done
very much to clarify the concept of the instinct. A summary
of their views may be stated in the following manner: the instinct is an inherited or innate disposition of the psycho-physical
entity, by which the organism is determined to be attentive to
certain objects in its environment, to experience a certain tone
but within that which is more formal. Such is the procedure of the philosopher of
nature, in our case the psychologist, whose purpose is not to content himself with
the manifestations of the vital principle, but rather to investigate the nature of this
principle which is the most formal aspect of vital material being. The biologist, on
the other hand, will proceed by the descending analysis, stressing the mobile seu
sensibile aspect, until he has arrived at the purely phenomenological facts which
refuse further analysis. The biologist is concerned with the material manifestations
of the activity of the psyche: he will observe manners of local motion, of feeding,
of generation, colors, size, etc., of various animals.
The field of the epistemologist is that of the third order of abstraction, where
one considers forms which do not depend upon matter either for existence or intelligibility. Here is classed the transcendental relation which is proper to knowledge, since knowledge is such a relation between the object and the knowing power.
Neither knowing power nor object of knowledge is intelligible without this relation
to each other; while the actuality or perfection of the knowing power is that of the
object.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

205

of feeling upon the perception of this object, and to react, or at
least to experience an impulse to react, in a certain manner to
this particular object. The reaction does not take place at all
times and everywhere, but is conditioned by spatia-temporal
relations and involves a certain excitation from outside as well
as certain internal forces. The instinctive action ordinarily involves a complexity of acts which follow each other according
to certain definite laws and depend upon each other in the
execution of the whole process. 29
We must emphasize the fact that the instinct is not merely
an innate disposition to certain kinds of movement; as Buytendijk remarks, it is a psychic basis for various kinds of
activity. The specificity of an instinct is not to be sought in
physiological mechanisms but rather in the psychic life. The
physiological factor is an essential part -Df instinctive activity
but it is of the essence of instinct in function of material cause.
A material cause can never account for the specificity or intelligibility of anything; its role is that of the determinable. Insofar as instinct is physiological it is on the same level as any
other physiological activity; yet since the physiological factor
is a part of the essence of the instinct, we cannot neglect it.
Between the structure of an
and its instinctive actions
we find a very close bond, so that the structure of the animal
will make possible and facilitate the performance of the instinctive action. As an instance of this we may cite the fieldspider which, when its foot is seized by an enemy, can detach
this member immediately from the rest of the body, and thus
29 W. McDougall,
Social Psychology, 30: "We may, then, define an instinct as
an inherited or innate psycho-physical disposition which determines its possessor to
perceive, and to pay attention to, objects of a certain class, to experience an emotional excitement of a particular quality upon perceiving such an object, and to
act in regard to it in a particular manner, or, at least, to experience an impulse to
such action."
Buytendijk, op. cit., 109: " ... Il est preferable de definir !'instinct dans le.
sens le plus large, comme Ia base psychique d'un complexe d'actions que l'animal
execute par nature (inn e), sous des conditions speciales de temps et de lieu,
actions prevenant d<excitations exterieures et d'influences internes de l'organisme.
Ce complexe d'actions est constitue d'une serie d'actions elementaires, qui dependent
Jes une des autres suivant des lois fixes et qui se succedent les unes les autres."

206

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

flee its assailant. But the detached member continues to give
evidences of life by a continuance of its contractions; and these
movements are of the greatest help to the field-spider, for its
traditional enemies-coleopters, etc.-will eat only that food
which is living. Consequently the attacker occupies himself
with this pseudo-vital appendage while the field-spider escapes. 30
From the structure of an animal or insect we may often
deduce the operations which the organism will perform in its
instinctive action. An instance of this is given by the silk glands
of the spider. From the existence of these glands, productive
of a silk-like fluid, we may deduce the fact that this organism
will spin a web; but the form of this web cannot be determined.
The form of the web is to be according to that which is useful
or harmful to the spider-and it is psychic factors which determine this. Again, it is only by a close cooperation between the
structure of the animal and the actions of instinct that the end
of the instinct can be attained. Excellent examples of this are
the cases of mimetism where we find animals and insects using
idiosyncracies of their color or configuration to enable them to
escape enemies by blending into their surroundings either in
color or in shape. 31
A further, and quite trenchant, analysis of the part played
by physiological elements in instinctive activity is given by
McDougalL Between the psychical and physiological aspects of
instinct there is a fine balance, a complete correlation, so that
on each level we may distinguish three phases in the activity.
op. cit., 110.
Bnytendijk, op. cit., 110-lll. Buytendijk points out that the physiological
and the psychical elements in an instinct are indissolubly bound together to attain
an end useful to the organism. Hence any theory of heredity such as that of the
variation or the acquired characteristics theory is invalid, since there must be a
concomitant change of both activity and structure: " ... TI en resulte que structure
et maniere d'agir sont luees indissolublement dans un meme but d'utilite. Ceci nons
donne une indication importante sur Ia theorie de l'origine des instincts. Certes,
Ia conception simpliste que les instincts, meme que les particularites corporelles,
seraient issus d'une selection de variations ou par l'heredite de proprietes acquises,
trouve dans ces faits des objections quasi irrefutables. En efl'et, la structure devrait
varier avec Ia conduite. Avec !'acquisition d'une nouvelle habitude, la structure de
l'organe devrait egalement etre modifiee hereditairement."
so Buytendijk,

91

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

207

The physiological activity is in every instinct to be divided into
an afferent, a central, and an efferent phase. 32 It is noted at
once that this is a division commonly used when dealing with
the nervous system. Such a division is found formally in those
animals possessing a neuro-muscular system, but the same concepts may be applied to those in which there is no such structure, for their activity also presupposes these three physiological
phases, no matter what may be the structures by which they
occur. To receive the impressions that pour in upon the sensory
apparatus there is the mechanism of the nervous system; but
under certain circumstances we find that the animal reacts to
the situation at certain times and in certain places in a unique
manner, a manner that shows purpose in the entire course of the
action. Out of the melange of influences pouring in upon the
neuro-muscular organism some have been singled out as of
prime importance, and it is these influences that set off the
activity of the animal. There are at the afferent inlet certain
sets or patterns of nerves fitted to receive the impulses set up
in the end organs. These neurones elaborate the impulses, and
according to the manner in which these neurones are constituted, and according to their way of acting, the content of
the sensory part of the psycho-physical process is determined. 33
Following upon this initial reception and elaboration of a
stimulus by the afferent neurones, the excitation spreads to the
central part of the nervous set-up. In the neuro-muscular
animal this central part consists of spinal and brain centers
whose function is to elaborate and correlate the excitations
received by the afferent nerves and to distribute them to the
various end organs by means of the efferent fibres. This correlation and distribution is necessary so that the impulses may be
shunted into those channels which will aid in the most effective
carrying out of the instinctive action. The terminus of the
32 McDougall, op. cit., 83.
•• Sensation is not constituted nor explained by this sensory functioning, nor are
we here explaining the process of sensation. The present discussion is concerned
only with the physiological basis of instinctive activity; there is a psychical correlate
where the problem of sensation has its proper place.

208

WILLIAM A. GERHARD

excitation is finally reached when the impulses have been
shifted into the efferent phase by the administration of the
central part. This is the motor phase of the instinct complex,
and consists, in the higher animals, of glands or muscles.
Either a gland or a muscle is set into action to effect the appropriate activity according as the structure of the central part has
directed the impulse received into one or the other. 34
We must, however, remember that the physiology of instinct
is the material cause, the undetermined part, the unintelligible
aspect. The three phases of instinctive activity can be specified
and fully understood only because of their correlation with the
three phases of the psychic activity which constitutes the specificity and consequent intelligibility of the instinct. The psychic
correlate of the receptive or afferent physiological activity is
cognition; of the central activity it is the affective phase; and
of the efferent or motor activity, it is the conative phase. 35 Since
knowledge must proceed analytically, and, as Bergson says,
cannot catch life in its upspringing, we must consider these
three phases of instinct separately. Instinct as actually found
in living beings, comprises an affective and a cognitional aspect.
•• McDougall, op. cit., 84. McDougall states that the instinctive process is
modifiable both on the afferent and efferent sides, but not in the central part. The
principal methods by which the afferent side may be conditioned are listed by
McDougall as: (1) A specialization of the afferent inlet evidenced by the fact that
animals will no longer flee at a certain sound made by an object if no harmful effect
A modification " in accordance with the principle of
follows from the object.
association in virtue of temporal contiguity," and this we find evidenced in the
case of wild creatures which at first do not fear men until the appearance of the
human is accompanied by the report of a gun and the death of some of the animals:
soon the mere appearance of the human incites the instinct of fear even before or
without the noise of the gun. (8) A modification by " reproduction of similars ";
in this case' a sense-impression bearing certain resemblances to the native excitant
object of the instinct serves to excite the instinct in virtue of the resem.blance
it bears to the specific object. An example of this is seen in a horse shying away
from a stick in the road because of the resemblance it bears to a snake.
Regarding the bodily movements by which the motor phase of the instinct is
accomplished, there is an equal capacity for modifications. The movement com·
plexes of tlie animal are of many and varied types, but the brute's movements are
relatively limited as compared to the many combinations that can be built up in
man by training. Cf., ibid., 88-84:
•• McDougall, op. cit., 27.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

fl09

But let us say here and now that the most formal phase of instinct is not its appetitional, but rather its cognitional, aspect.
Instinct is not primarily a striving for, but a knowing of, the
object. The striving for or the affective attitude toward the
object is secondary to the knowledge.
We shall then in the first place consider this conative aspect
of instincts. This conative aspect is a psychic entity, an impulse, an urge to action which drives the organism to act. The
preceding parts ot the instinctive activity-cognitional
and
affective-are orientated towards this striving aspect, which is
the terminal activity. Closer analysis of conation will require
that we first answer the question whether or not the conative
phase is conscious activity. The answer to this question must
be prefaced by the following distinction: the conation characteristic of all instincts must be conscious impulse since it is the
result of two previous conscious states, perception and affective
tonality. That the summation of the instinctive process could
be outside the field of consciousness is contrary to fact; instinct
is essentially a bipolar phenomenon consisting of a relationship
between two objects or, more properly, between two dynamisms.
With the perception of the stimulus object the agent immediately becomes conscious of a desire or aversion according to
which it reacts to the object. The object of an instinct is not
a pure object of knowledge, it is an end-object, i. e., one that
per se generates some sort of affective state which of its very
nature implies that action be instituted in regard to the object.
But consciousness is not necessary for the existence of an instinct: we possess instincts even when we are not conscious of
them, for certainly we never lose the instincts of sex, hunger,
desire for self-preservation, but we are not always conscious of
them. What do we mean when we say we have instincts even
.though we are not conscious of them?
McDougall and Nunn have spoken of the horme as that
principle within us which accounts for the purposeful dynamism
evidenced by instinctive activity; and Nunn has distinguished
between hormic activities, as those embracing all purposeful
activities of men and animals, be they conscious or unconscious,

210

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

and the properly conative actions embracing only the conscious purposeful activities. 36 This distinction, however, can
also be found in the Aristotelian philosophy of nature, for
Aristotle has pointed out that the ontological substratum of all
physical things may be considered either as an underlying, sustaining, and permanent substratum of the accidental qualities
of the being, in which case it is called substance; or as a dynamic, an orientated principle of activity, in which case it is
named nature. 37 This horme, therefore, spoken of by McDougall
36 T. P. Nunn, Education, ltii Data and First Principles,
"We need a
name for the fundamental property expressed in the incessant adjustment and
adventures that make up the tissue of life. We are directly aware of that property
in our conscious activities as an element of ' drive,' 'urge,' or felt tendency towards
an end. Psychologists call it conation and give the name conative process to any
train of conscious activity which is dominated by such a drive and receives
from it the characters of unity in diversity and what Bosanquet called ' coherent
adaptiveness and progressiveness' .•. (Nunn then refers to many unconscious
activities expressing themselves in action.) None of these purposive processes may
be called conative, for they lie below, and even far below, the conscious level; yet a
super-human spectator, who could watch our mental behavior in the same direct
way as we can observe physical events, could see them all as instances of the
same class, variant in detail, alike ... in the general plan. In other words, he
would see that they all differ from purely mechanical processes by the presence of
an internal ' drive,' and differ from one another only in the material in which the
drive works and the character of the ends towards which it is directed. To this
element of drive or urge, whether it occurs in the conscious life of man and the
higher animals, or in the unconscious activities of their bodies and the (presumably)
unconscious behavior of lower animals, we propose to give a single name--horme
(15P!l-'TJ). In accordance with this proposal all the purposive processes of the organism are hormic processes, conative processes being the sub-class whose members
have the special mark of being conscious."
McDougall, "The Hormic Psychology," Psychologies of 1930, 31: "The hormic
theory projects a completely systematic and self-consistent psychology on the
basis of its recognition of the whole of the organized mind of the adult as a structure
elaborated in the service of the hormic urge to more and fuller life. Every part of
this vastly complex structure it regards as serving to differentiate the hormic impulses, and to direct them with ever-increasing efficiency towards their natural
goals in a world of infinite complexity that offers a multitude of possible routes to
any goal, possibilities among which the organism chooses wisely according to the
richness of its apparatus of sensory apprehension and its span of
integration of many relations, the effective organization of its memory, the nicety of its
discriminatory judgment, and its sagacity in seizing, out of a multitude of possibilities offered by sense-presentation and memory, the possibilities most relevant
to its purpose."
•• Aristotle, Pkysiea, II, 192 b,

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

!lJl

and Nunn, is the Aristotelian nature. The vital, sentient organism is not merely a conative urge nor a dynamism, for these are
merely manifestations of some principle that constitutes the
essential being of the organism. Here, then, in the nature of the
organism we find the basis for that conation or urge that is
manifested in the purposeful activity in instincts.
The instinctive activity is what the Aristotelians would call
the actualization of the potency. In its potential state the
instinct exists as an appetite when considered in this conative
phase, a tendency of the specific nature of which it is a determination. Returning to the question of whether or not instincts are conscious, we find that Drever has supplied us with
a very helpful distinction. 88 In instinctive functions there is no
consciousness of the ego. To catch the ego demands that the
being be capable of disinterested reflective thought, that the
being know without adopting any affective attitude towards the
object known-and this is predicated of a rational being only.
Such consciousness is " personal consciousness." But there is a
lower level, " subpersonal consciousness," in which two divisions
exist: in the first the sentient being is not conscious of the ego,
but only of the affections attaching to the ego when confronted
with some perceptual object. For instance the dog is probably
88 J. Drever, "Instinct and the Unconscious," British Journal of Psychology, 1919,
88: " ... The unconscious or subpersonal consciousness will be consciousness mainly
at or below the perceptual level, and therefore consciousness in which appetite and
instinct will have the fullest play, but to identify the unconscious with instinct is
impossible. The unconscious is wider than instinct, though undoubtedly instinct
plays in the realm of subpersonal unconsciousness a part that is certainly more
prominent, if not more important, than in the realm of personal consciousness.
I might represent the strata of consciousness schematically in some such way as the
following:

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

not conscious of his ego when food is presented to him; it is only
the desire for food, the restiveness of the awakened impulse
within him, that floods his consciousness. Here on this perceptual level is the actuality of instinct, for with the perception
there is set up an emotional tonality accompanied with an
impulse of desire. Here is the horme, the conation, the nature
in act. But below the perceptual level exists what Drever calls
appetite. This is the dormant dynamism of the nature. The
appetite is the tendency of the nature, the horme., the conation
in potency, and for its actuation it stands in need of perception.
Appetite is not a conscious phenomenon; it exists undoubtedly,
but existence and consciousness, or existence and activity, are
not to be equated.
There is one objection, however, that may be lodged against
the division of the psychic factors concerned in instinctive activity as McDougall states it. While the physiological aspect of
instinctive activity corresponds to this threefold division into an
afferent, central, and efferent phase, the psychological activity
of instinct is not quite so definitely divisible. We have spoken
of the conative aspect of instinctive activity, we have stated
that this hormic activity is the actualization of certain appetitive potencies possessed by the principle accounting for sense
life within the organism. But what is the difference between
this conation and emotion, which is given by McDougall as a
second-the central-phase of instinct? If there is to be a real
distinction between conation and emotion, they must be the
works of separate faculties. But then to conclude thus would
be to set up a tripartite division of the sentient psyche for which
there seems to be no adequate foundation. We would have,
by the act of sensation; an appethen, a
titive-represented by what we called the conative activity; and
some medium or hybrid faculty- represented by what we
named emotion. This, it appears, is an extravagant and uncalled-for interpretation. Emotion is an accompaniment and
strengthener of conation, it is a mental state of an affective
character by which the individual responds to a particular situation because he is aware of its pleasant or painful character;

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

213

this response is not of the psychic part only but includes intrinsically response of the physical part also"39
But in this very definition we find terms such as " pleasant "
and " painful," which need explanation. The definition is not
wholly intelligible because an emotion is an effect dependent
upon a cause. It is only after we have investigated the cause of
the emotion that we shall be able fully to understand the nature
of emotion. As :McDougall pointed out, there is a phase of the
psychical activity in instinct which precedes emotion, namely,
the cognitive or perceptive phase. It is now our duty to consider
this.
Knowledge is not a concept that can be applied univocally
to each knowing being" Even in the intellectual realm knowledge exhibits its analogical character: there is a knowledge
which in itself :finds its perfection and there is another knowledge which is truncated until it is carried out in some sort of
action. Both are knowledge, but they share in a community
containing intrinsic and irreducible differences. But on still
another plane we may use the term knowledge-that of the
senses. The sensations we have are one form of knowledge; and
through them a rapprochement of the most intimate kind is
effected between the world about us and our own ego. The
colors, tastes, sounds of objects come to exist within us exactly
as they exist in the outer world, except that their modality is
different. From this humble source-the colored or sounding or
tangible object-arises all knowledge.
But note how dispersed the activity of sense knowledge is:
it is exercised through five different powers, whereas intellectual
knowledge is exercised through the intellect alone. The individual senses, then, are manifestations of the sentient psyche,
channels through which its activity flows. The nature of the
sentient psyche is such that it does not enjoy that unity of
action, that indivisibility, that the rational psyche displays in
the process of thought. When we exercise our powers of thought
we can, in certain privileged instances, pierce straight to the
39 In this definition I have not added materially
anything to that given by R.
Allers in his article, "The Cognitive Aspect of Emotions," Thomist, IV, 1942, 590.

5

214

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

core of an essence; with one act we can embrace its intelligibility
to the extent it is granted the human mind to know; and this
knowledge can be set forth in a definition. 40 The intelligibility
of an object on the intellectual level is unified, it is contained
within the essence. There is no need of ancillary intellectual
powers to aid the reason in its activity.
But what of the sensible qualities of tl:.e object? Here we do
not find the same unity: sensible qualities are dispersed, they
exist under varied modalities. More than one act of knowledge
is required to gather together the full sensible attributes of an
object; nor, moreover, can we speak of the perfection of knowledge on the sense level until we know all these various modalities as constituents of one object. Hence the need for the
diversified activity of the sentient psyche becomes apparent:
the eyes know the object as colored, the ears as sounding, etc.,
but no one of the senses fully embraces the object as sensible.
To clarify the question still more we may cite the division
of sensible attributes. To each of the senses there is assigned
some one defined sensible quality--color to sight, sound to
hearing, etc. Each sense power is capable of itself of knowing
this particular attribute of an object. But, over and above
this knowledge, we know such sensible facts as magnitude,
movement, shape, all of which we know by the senses, but all of
which demand the activity of more than one sense. These objects are called common sensibles, and by their nature need more
than one sense power to exercise its activity if they are to be
known. 41 A third class is composed of objects that are sensible
only per accidens: here we come to a judgment of the relation
between sensible qualities and an attributed quality transcending the sensible intelligibility as such. For instance when the
sheep sees the brown wolf and flees because it knows the wolf
40 I do not, of course, intend to imply that that which cannot be defined is unintelligible. This would make of the first principles of all sciences nothing but
nonsense. For who can define the principle of contradiction?
41 Cf. B. Muller-Thym,
"Common Sense, the Perfection of Pure Sensibility,"
Thomist, II, 1940, 321-322, for an excellent discussion, supported by many texts, of
the fallacy of the teaching in which it is contended that the object of the central
sense is the common sensible.

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

215

to be inimical to its well-being, the knowledge of the harmfulness of the wolf is in no way intrinsically connected with the
brown color of the wolf. The connection or relation between
the color and more intangible note of enmity is purely accidentaU2 The sensibles, then, are the object of the external
senses, and the common sensibles are perceived by two or more
of these senses. Thus this division serves to show the impossibility of explaining the knowledge of a sensible object through
the activity of only the external senses. We may sum up at
this point by saying that in the external senses we find sense
knowledge in an imperfect state; it is in some way truncated.
The knowledge possessed by each sense is in a state of progression, orientated by its very nature to a greater perfection and
synthesis. The sensible world is neither color nor sound nor
taste nor touch-but it is rather a combination of all these.
As we have already remarked above, sense knowledge is
characterized at its first level-that of the external senses-by
a diverse modality of action. Yet all the senses have a certain
common character: they can know sense qualities; consequently
we may conclude that they have some common root, some
central point, in which they all commune. In this central sense
we may expect to find the imperfect activity of each of the
external senses synthesized by a single act into the highest perfection of sense knowledge. It is, therefore, in the central sense
that we have the solution to the problems that have presented
themselves. 43
The existence of this sense was considered and accepted by
Aristotle when he considered the psychological fact that, although each particular sense was fitted by nature to know its
proper sensible and to discern differences between its proper
sensible and other sensibles, we could distinguish between the
sweet and the red-and this not in a per accidens manner as
•• Aristotle, De Anima, III, 4S5 a, l-425 b, 4.
•• I have chosen to translate the traditional phrase sensus cmnmunis by the
phrase " central sense." I consider this preferable to " synthetic sense " since the
latter seems to emphasize too much an activity-synthesis-which,
although of prime
importance, is not the specific property of this sense. The central sense is a power
of knowledge, and as such its specific action is not synthesizing but knowing.

216

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

one who sees a red apple and knows from past experiences that
it is sweet. 44 A distinction of this latter type is explicable psychologically by association; but how we can know the difference
between taste and sight is a question of critique.
For a judgment of the sense, therefore, there is a central sense.
It does not rise essentially above the external senses, for its
knowledge is confined to the individual, to the object as subjected to the conditions of space and time which accrue to it
by its material condition. The judgment in which we set forth
the difference of white from sweet is the apprehension of an
interior state. It is the awareness and subsequent statement of
the fact that the percipient subject has undergone a change;
and for the apprehension and statement of this fact there must
be a single power of knowledge. To suppose that a discernment.
of the difference between two sense qualities could arise from
the exercise of separate powers is as contradictory as to say that
two separate men, of whom one experienced the white and the
other the sweet, could judge between these two qualities as
being different. Judgment always presupposes a common subject perceiving and judging an act of existence in which two
essences either share or do not share. Although on the sense
level there is not a perception of the abstract essence, yet there
is needed for a sense judgment a common subject of such a
nature that it is capable of perceiving sensible existence as participated in by particular sensible modalities. It is in this
central sense, therefore, that we find a power capable of perceiving both sensible existence and the various kinds of participation in this existence; it is, consequently, a power that is
able to make judgments on the sense leveP 5
"Aristotle, De Anima, III, 425 b, 11-427 a, 15.
•• St. Thomas, In De Anima, ill, Lect. 8: "Posset enim aliquis credere quod
discernamus album a dulci non quadam una potentia, sed diversis: ut scilicet inquantum gestu cognoscimus dulce, et visu album. Hoc autem excludit dicens quod
non contingit discernere quod dulce sit alterum ab albo, separatis potentiis, id est
diversis; sed oportet ad discernendum ea, quod secundum aliquam unam potentiam
manifestum sit nobis. Ita enim esset si diversis potentiis sentiremqs dulce et album,
sicut si diversi homines sentirent. Hoc autem posito, manifestum est quQd altera
sunt ab invicem dulce et album, quia aliter patior ego a dulci quam tu ab albo.
Sed tamen diversitas ista non erit nobis per sensum manifesta; sed oportet quod

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

n7

When the central sense has been actuated we have arrived
at the peak of that order of intelligibility which concerns itself
with the forms of knowledge transmissible by physical forces
such as heat, light, taste, sound, etc. This action of the central
sense is but one on the way to building up a perception-it exhausts the intentiones sensatae. 46 Hence the knowledge of the
central sense results in an immediate experimental knowledge
of an objective quantitative being. Within this knowledge of
the central sense we may distinguish a proper and common
sensible -these are the intentiones sensatae. They cause a
change in either one or more of the sense faculties according as
they are proper or common.
If, therefore, the action of the central sense is specified by
knowledge of an objective qualitative configuration, inclusive of
both the proper and common sensibles, where in our economy of
sense knowledge can we place the accidental sensible qualities
such as concrete relations, particular value judgments, etc.?
These do not enter into the field of sensible knowledge until we
have reached a further integration.
All knowledge of the external sense level is experimental
knowledge, that is to say that it demands the physical presence
of the ob]ect known-such is the only type of knowledge of
which these senses are capable. But this experimental knowledge is further divisible into immediate experimental knowledge
unus sit, qui dicat quod alterum est dulce ab albo. Hoc enim est aliquid unum
verum, scilicet quod alterum sit dulce ab albo: ergo oportet quod illud unum ab
eodem dicatur. Sed· dictio est interpretatio interioris apprehensionis: ergo sicut
est unus qui dicit, ita oportet quod unus sit qui intelligat et sentiat, alterum esse
dulce ab albo. . . . Sicut igitur oportet quod unus homo, qui dicit alterum esse
album a dulci, sit qui cognoscit utrumque, ita oportet quod una potentia sit, qua
agnoscitur utrumque. Nam homo non cognoscit nisi per aliquam potentiam. Et
hoc est quod
ulterius palam esse quod non est possibile judicare ' separata '
idest quod aliqua ·sint diversa, ' separatis ' idest diversis; sed oportet quod sit
eadem potentia, quae utrumque cognoscat."
•• Of course, the imagination also includes among its functions that of preserving
these intentiones sensatae; but, since this is not a psychological study but rather a
critical one, I do not think it necessary here to enter into a discussion of the place
of the imagination in the economy of the internal senses. Likewise the memory
will not be dealt with explicitly except insofar as it is necessary to explain the
functioning of the cogitative or estimative power.

fll8

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

and "discursive experimental" knowledge. In the case of immediate experimental knowledge the term applied is " perception "; in that of discursive experimental knowledge it is " experience " (experimentum) . The difference between perception and sensation is constituted by the fact that the object of
sensation is either the proper or common sensible, but the
object of perception includes over and above this the " meaning " of the whole context, the accidentally sensible quality.
The discursive experimental knowledge differs from perception
in that it is not an intuitive act but one of " reasoning," one of
gathering bits of material from the present situation and from
memory-all of which enter into the formation of the judgment
concerning the here and now situation and the affective attitude
which should be taken toward it. 47
The accidentally sensible object which specifies both perception and experience as distinct cognitive phenomena is not an
object causing any physical change in the sense organ. Consequently none of the external senses is capable of perceiving
this type of sense quality. Knowledge of the accidentally sensible object is of a particular-and seemingly contradictorynature: there is always a need for a concomitant substratum of
pure sense knowledge which acts as a vessel in which to bear
this more abstract and immaterial knowledge. The relationship
between the particular type of proper sensible and the accidentally sensible quality is completely arbitrary: it may be a
white man or a yellow man. 48 The accidentally sensible quality,
•• S. Th., I, 48, 5, ad 9!: " Perceptio autem experimentalem quamdam notitiam
significat." Perception is limited to that which is immediately lmowable beyond
the tangible sensible qualities; its object is " statim quod ad occursum rei sensatae
apprehenditur." St. Thomas, Iru De Anima, II, Lect. 18.
St. Thomas, In Post. Ana., II, Lect. 9!0: " ... Ex memoria autem multoties
facta circa eandem rem, in diversis tamen singularibus fit experimentum; quia
experimentum nihil aliud esse videtur quam accipere aliquid ex multis in memoria
retentis .... "
•• St. Thomas, In De Anima, II, Lect. 18: "Secundum accidens sensibile dicitur,
ut si dicimus quod Diarus vel Socrates est sensibile per accidens, quia accidit et
quod sit album. Hoc enim sentitur per accidens, quia accidit ei quod sentitur per
se: accidit autem albo, quod est sensibile per se, quod sit Diarus, unde Diarus
est sensibile per accidens. Unde nihil patitur sensus ab hoc, in quantum hujusmodi.

"

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL VALUES

219

therefore, stands in a unique position in the hierarchy of knowledge: it can be known or conveyed to the knowing being only
through the instrumentality of the ordinary sense qualities, yet
it is in no way dependent upon any particular sense quality
either for its being or intelligibility. That is to say that the
relation between the particular color, sound, etc., and the meaning it conveys to the percipient subject is not determined: the
sheep experiences fear whether the wolf is gray or brown,
whether the woff is seen or its howl is heard or its scent is
caught. We seem to have here a case of the common nature so
entangled in the web of matter that it cannot tear itself free. 49
Examples of the accidentally sensible quality are hatred,
enmity, the concrete relationship of offspring to parent and vice
versa, concrete value judgments, etc. All of these can be reduced to the general categories of relationships of utility or
harmfulness between object and subject. 50
•• John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., q. 8, a. S; Reiser
b,
"Supponimus
dari species in sensibus internis, sicut datur cognitio. Quodsi illae potentiae internae
sunt altiores in cognoscendo, etiam requirunt altiores species vel autem altiori modo
ordinatas, ut cognitio elevatior elici possit. Specialiter autem quando objecta
repraesentata sunt altioris abstractionis, ut iil.tentiones insensatae, requirere videntur
aliquas species perfectiores et elevatiores repraesentantes tales intentiones, sicut
odlum, inimicitiam, filios, parentes, etc. Istae enim formalitates non repraesentantur
in sensibus extemis, et tamen cognoscuntur ab intemis, ergo datur aliquod principium repraesentativum illarum, quod non debet esse ita materiale et imperfectum,
quod sistat in ipsis rebus sensatis, sicut sistunt sensus externi; ergo perfectior
species debet esse quam species sensus extemi, quae solum repraesentat res sensatas.

"

St. Thomas, In De Anima, II, Lect. l!l: " ... Sciendum est igitur quod ad
hoc quod aliquid sit sensibile per accidens primo requiritur quod accidat ei quod
per se est sensibile, sicut accidit albo esse hominem, et accidit ei esse dulce.
Secundo requiritur quod sit apprehensum a sentiente: si enim accideret sensibili
quod lateret sentientem, non diceretur per accidens sentiri. Oportet igitur quod per
se cognoscatur ab aliqua alia potentia cognoscitiva sentientis. Et hoc quidem vel
est alius sensus, vel est intellectus vel vis cogitativa, aut vis aestimativa. Dico
autem quod est alius sensus; sicut si dicamus, quod dulce est visib,ile per accidens
inquantum dulce accidit albo, apprehenditur visu, et ipsum dulce per se cognoscitur
ab alio sensu, scilicet a gustu. Sed, ut proprie loquamur, hoc non est universaliter
sensibile per accidens, sed per accidens visibile, sensibile autem per se. Quod ergo
sensu proprio non cognoscitur, si sit aliquid universale, apprehenditur intellectu;
non tamen omne quod intellectu apprehendi potest in re sensibili, potest dici sensibile
per accidens, ·sed statim quod ad occursum rei sensatae apprehenditur .... "
" 0 Intelligible objects such as substance, relations, etc., also are aensibilia per

220

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

What then is this cognitive power by which these intentiones
insensatae, these intangible qualities, are reached on the sense
level? It must be a sense power since its object, though more
abstract than that of either the external or other internal senses,
does not lose the note of singularity. To this power of perceiving the significance, the meaning, the " form," of a concrete
situation, the name of estimative or cogitative power - the
former reserved for irrational animals, the latter for men-has
been given. In their essential nature and function the estimative and cogitative powers do not differ; however, there is a
difference in the range of the activities because the one cohabits
with an essentially distinct and higher power, that of abstract
thought; while the other is the highest power of knowledge
existing in the being. 51 This influence of the rational principle
upon the ·sensible powers of cognition is of very great importance in the matter of the estimative and cogitative powers,
and perhaps here better than in any other phase of psychology
we can see the repercussions on the sense level of the rational
principle. Both the cogitative and estimative power have as
their proper object the accidentally sensible quality, but their
method of considering this object differs.
Upon seeing a particular object, the rational being knows it
as, for instance, " this dog," and upon this perception there ensues a feeling of kindliness or fear toward this particular dog for
it has been classed under the heading of the useful or harmful
to this particular man. But there is more here than meets the
eye: in the very perception of this dog, the rational being is not
accidens; but here we are not interested in them. We merely wish to locate the
intentiones insensatae in their proper category of sensible qualities, namely, the
sensibilia per accidens.
51 J. of St. Th., Phil. Nat., q. 8, a.
Reiser,
b, 19-37; " ... Potentiae vero
apprehensivae distinguuntur penes diversam abstractionem seu immaterialitatem,
secundum quam trahat res ad se, et haec diversa, secundum quod magis vel minus
est dependens ab ipsa materiali praesentia objecti., Sequitur tertio cogitativam et
reminiscentiam in homine non distingui ab aestimativa et memoria sed esse ipsamet
potentias cum quadam perfectione participata ex conjunctione ad rationem,
secundum quam discurrere possunt circa sua objecta singularia, quod quidem
pertinet ad diversum modum operandi, non diversam potentiam quae solum ex
diversa immaterialitate o,bjecti diversificatur per se. . . . "

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

221

wholly concerned with the beast as a principle or term of action,
for by the very fact that he recognizes it as a particular member
of the animal species of dog, it is evident that a higher synthesis
has taken place, a synthesis that is not restricted to a mere
consideration of the relative harmful.J?.essor utility of the animal; but this particular object is known under the heading of a
common nature. 52 The collaboration between the intellect and
the sense powers at this particular level of knowledge is most
intimate. A" box piled on box" psychology, that is, a concept
of the powers of human cognition of such a nature that the
principle of each type of knowledge is completely independent
of all the rest, and works in isolation from any other principle,
shows its inadequacy when faced with knowledge of the type
obtainable by the cogitative power. The intellect is the principle and source of all cognitive activity in man, its influence is
all-pervasive, so much so that, although essentially sense knowledge in brutes and man is the same, yet the sense psyche is profoundly influenced in its functions by reason of the fact that it
exists in a rational being; its activity is ancillary and must be
suited to fit the needs of the reason. 53 Here in the case of the
cogitative power the force of the intellect is so powerfully felt
that in many ways this sense power seems to share in the privileges of the reason. The cogitative power does not merely perceive the utility or harmfulness of a particular object, it sees the
relationship existing between the present object and the other
objects of a like nature. The knowledge of the cogitative power
is not of an inferior sharing in a universal: such knowledge is
natural to the intellect alone- the cogitative power cannot
predicate a universal of a singular. It does not abstract a uni•• Our problem is not one of psychology but of critique; consequently we do not
consider how we know the individual in intellectual knowledge. For an excellent
article on the subject of intellectual cognition of the particular substance, see R.
Allers, "The Intellectual Cognition of Particulars," Thomist, III, 1941, 95-163.
53 Summa
Theologica, I, 78, 4, ad 5: " Illam eminentiam habet cogitativa et
memorativa in homine, non per id quod est proprium sensitivae partis, sed per
aliquam affinitatem et propinquitatem ad rationem universalem, secundum quamdam refluentiam. Et ideo non sunt aliae vires, sed eaedem perfectiones quam sint
in aliis animalibus."

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

versal concept, it cannot rise above the particular, the here and
now; but it does have a certain power of speculation. It knows
the object to be an object of knowledge, the modality under
which its apprehension of the object takes place is primarily
that of action, namely, the knowledge of the object calls for
some sort of action-either attraction toward or :flight from
the present situation -but the knowledge of the cogitative
power is not as immediately and narrowly determined to action
as is that of the estimative power. Before acting we know the
object as a particular manifestation of something that is useful
or detrimental; the object is an object of knowledge. On the
contrary, the knowledge of the estimative power shows more
determinism: the object is not one of knowledge, but purely of
action. 54
Another difference--again one of degree and not of essencebetween the cogita,tive and estimative powers, following from
the greater indetermination of the cogitative power due to the
profound influence exerted on it by dwelling in a substantial
unity with the intellect,S 5 is the ability of the cogitative power
54 St. Thomas,
In De Anima, II, Lect. 13: " ... Si vero apprehendatur in
singulari, utputa cum video coloratum, percipio hunc hominem vel hoc animal,
hujusmodi quidem apprehensio in homine fit per vim cogitativarn, quae dicitur
etiam ratio particularis, eo quod est collative intentionum individualiurn sicut
ratio universalis est collativa rationum universalium. Nihilominus tamen haec vis
est in parte sensitiva; quia vis sensitiva in suo supremo participat aliquid de vi
intellectiva in homine, in quo sensus intellectui conjungitur. In animali vero irrationali fit apprehensio intentionis individua!is per aestimativam naturalem, secundum
quod ovis per auditum vel visum cognoscit filium, vel aliquid hujusmodi. Differenter
tarnen circa hoc se habet cogitativa et aestimativa. Nam cogit;ativa apprehendit
individuum ut existens sub natUI'a communi; quod contingit ei, inquantum unitur
intellectivae in eodem subjecto; unde cognoscit hunc hominem prout est hie homo,
et hoc lignum prout est hoc lignum. Aestirnativa autem non apprehendit aliquod
individuum secundum quod est sub natura communi, sed solum secundum quod
est terminus aut principium alicujus actionis vel pa,ssionis; sicut ovis cognoscit hunc
agnum, non inquantum est hie agnus, sed inquantum est ab ea lactabilis; et hanc
herbam, inquanturn est ejus cibus. Unde alia individua ad quae se non extendit,
eJUS actio vel passio nullo modo apprehendit sua.aestimativa datur animalibus, ut
per earn ordinentur in actiones proprias, vel passiones prosequens vel fugiendas."
•• It must always be remembered that we do not argue that the cogitative power
is of a higher order per se than the estimative. The difference between them is
only in their mode of operations: the action of the cogitative power, because of its
dwelling in an intellectual nature, is a. final activity in an order that is not final-

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

223

to gather and correlate the data of individual perceptions in
such wise that from these purely contingent individual perceptions it can arrive at a substratum of necessity. This necessity,
of course, is not that which is predicated of essences as known
by the intellect. We have differentiated above between perception and experience, stating that perception is of the nature of
an intuition while experience is a conclusion arrived at by reasoning from material presented by the memory, imagination,
and the present situation.
Perception precedes experience both temporally and naturally, for it is only by many perceptions that the sentient
nature can come to that cognition we call experience. When first
the animal nature is confronted by the world of objects that lies
about it, there are within the organism no sources of knowledge
and action save the innate dynamism of its own nature. These
sources of knowledge and action are the instincts: in the young,
raw animal psyche they are not correlated, not disciplined by
any higher force than themselves. From birth the animal
nature is given, with the gift of life, an urge to perpetuate its
own life, and for this purpose it possesses the rudimentary
powers of knowledge which we call the cognitive phase of instinct. By these powers of knowledge the force of the instinctive
action is set off, as Lloyd Morgan's chicks showed when, upon
coming fresh from the egg, they began pecking at bits of corn.
But as perception follows upon perception, a profound modification of activity occurs: this is the development of animal
intelligence, a synthesis brought about on a higher level of
cognition than that of the individual instinct. From perception
experience has been derived: the colors of objects have not
changed nor have their shapes been altered, but a deeper mutait is always oriented toward a higher and more terminal act of knowledge, that of
the intellect. Thus its mode of action is profoundly modified as compared to that
of the estimative power, whose action is not oriented toward a higher order but
is completely terminal.
J. of St. Th., Phil. Nat., q. 8, a.
Reiser,
a, 87-b,
" ... Unde eadem
potentia intellectus procedit et cum discursu in aliis sine variatione potentiae et appetitus sensitivus in nobis participat aliquid libertatis ... et tamen non est alia
potentia specie diversa ab appetitu sensitivo non habente talem libertates."

WILLIAM A. GERHARD

tion has occurred-namely, in their significance. 56 It should
not be thought that we consider the animal intelligence to be a
collective being made up of the cognitive powers of the individual instincts; nor do we mean by the animal intelligence a
power distinct from the cogitative or estimative power-they
are the same. Instinctive knowledge is the primitive functioning of the cogitative or estimative powers, it is analogous to the
knowledge of the first principles of being and truth on the intellectual level. Instinctive knowledge is not innate qua knowledge any more than is the knowledge of the principle of contradiction; but it is more readily and immediately generated qua
knowledge thai). is the principle of contradiction, because sensible knowledge is more easily gained, is more connatural to us
than is abstract knowledge. 57
56 Buytendijk, op. cit., 104-105: " ... La perception de formes et la qualite complexe
des representations prouvent que l'animal ne reagit pas a une association d'excitations exterieures, mais a la " signification " que cette association possede pour lui,
de meme que pour nous, les objets conservent une signification speciale independament de la gradeur et de !'emplacement, de la couleur, le l'eclairement, etc. Des
la naissance cette signification des objets existe deja chez de nombreux animaux.
La proie est reconnue immediatement comme telle par beaucoup d'animaux, des
leur venue au monde. Mais par contre, la signification de diverse objets n'est
acquise que par !'experience .... Toutefois, par l'eiperience, les objets per<;us
acquierent une signification differente et, a un age plus avance, l'animal con<;oit done
son entourage d'une tout autre, fa<;on qu'apres la naissance .... "
57 Such an explanation
of instinctive knowledge is in harmony with the continuity of perfections throughout all of creation. There is no abrupt breaking point
where suddenly a perfection of being is found that was not at all adumbrated at
some lower level of being. Even where there is an essential difference between
strata of being, we still find in the higher levels of the lower stratum a hint of
what we shall find in its essential perfection on the next higher stratum. For instance the difficulty of determining the borderline cases existing between the animate
and inanimate universe is well-known to botanists and biologists. How this principle
of continuity holds in knowledge is well expressed in this quotation from Aristotle,
Historia Animalium (translated by D. W. Thompson), 8. I. 588 a, 1-588 b, 4:
"In the great majority of animals there are traces of psychical qualities or attitudes, which qualities are more markedly differentiated in the case of human beings.
For just as we pointed out resemblances in the physical organs, so in a number of
animals we observe gentleness or fierceness, mildness or cross temper, courage or
timidity, fear or confidence, high spirit or low cunning, and, with regard to intelligence, something equivalent to sagacity. Some of these qualities in men, as compared with the corresponding qualities in animals, differ only quantitatively: that
is to say, a man has more or less of this quality, and an animal has more or less of

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

225

What is the nature of this knowledge that we call experience?
In the first place it is not merely memory: memory contributes
its wisdom gathered from the past but it is concerned only with
the past, it cannot correlate the present and the past. From the
many perceptions the cogitative power comes to realize that
there is a certain community between objects of one class.
Sensation presents us with a certain situation, memory supplies
vestiges of past like experiences, and from this mass of information the cogitative power is able to group certain objects under
definite headings.
This grouping of classes of objects is the "reasoning" that
the cogitative power is capable of. 58 But this classification, this
reasoning, must have a basis, a ratio operandi, that cannot be
the universal nature-for only the intellect can know this-but
rather the ratio must be of a sensible, singular character.
Animals also have a knowledge which is analogous to experience-this is exemplified by Kohler's experiments with apes
in their attempt to reach food, or in the maze-running of ratsbut again there is a difference in the " reasoning " process of the
cogitative and estimative powers. As we have said above, the
object is considered by the estimative power purely as a principle or term of action, but by the cogitative power it is known
as a particular manifestation of a common nature before it is
considered as a term or beginning of action. Consequently, we
cannot speak at all of any " reasoning " in the case of the estimative power, for it does not reach the object under the
modality of knowledge, but primarily and only as an object that
is harmful or useful. For instance, when an animal modifies its
some other; other qualities in man ara represented by analogous and not identical
qualities: for instance, just as in man we find knowledge, wisdom, and sagacity,
so in certain animals there exists some other natural potentiality akin to these.
The truth of this statement will be the more clearly apprehended if we have regard
to the phenomena of childhood: for in children may be observed the traces and
seeds of what will one day be settled psychological habits, though psychologically
a child hardly differs for the time being from an animal; so that one is quite justified in saying that, as regards man and animals, certain psychical qualities are
identical with one another, whilst others resemble, and others are analogous to
each other."
•• Cf. Aristotle, Post. Ana., II, 100 a, 4-6; St. Thomas, In Meta., I, Lect. I.

226

WILLIAM A. GERHARD

way of doing a particular action, it is not because the same
action is considered as performed more pleasurably one way
than another. In other words, the animal cannot see a common
nature existing under two different modalities. It only knows
one type of action or one object as mo:re pleasurable than
another. The animal knows that acting this way impedes the
movement less, or this object satisfies some appetite better,
than does some other mode of action or some other object of
appetite. The animal knows two things exercising in some
particular way the relation of a term-for example, a dog recognizes bread and meat as two terms of its desire for food, but it
does not recognize them as of a common nature sharing differently in this common nature. 59 Bread and meat are known to
him as two terms of an activity of which one is more pleasant
and satisfying than is the other, hence the dog is prone to eat
the meat rather than the bread. The estimative power of the
animal can know signs-the dog cowers when it sees its master
holding a stick-but it knows the sign as a representation of
either a pleasant or painful concrete experience. Never does
the estimative power know the object as pleasurable or
painful. 60
•• Cajetan, In S. Th., I,
1: " ... Ovis novit agnum ut terminus lactationis,
non quod oportet earn apprehendere ipsam relationem termini, quod esset apprehendere in actu signata; sed quia apprehendit agnum ut exercentem relationem
termini lactationis. Et simile est in aliis. Ex talibus enim apprehensionibus
relationum causantur passiones."
60 J. of St. Th., Log. II, q. 21, a. 6; Reiser, 685 b, 7-686, a, 12: " ... 'Ex memoria praeteritorum flagellorum vel beneficiorum contingit, ut bruta apprehendant
aliquid quasi amicum et prosequendum vel quasi inimicum et fugiendum.' ...
Ratio hujus praeter quotidianum experientiam qua videmus bruto moveri signis,
tum naturalibus, ut gemitu, balatu, cantu, etc., tum ex consuetudine, ut canis
vocatus nomine consueto movetur, qui tamen impositionem non intelligit, sed
consuetudine ducitur. Praeter hoc, inquam, videmus brutum uno visa ill aliud distinctum tendere sicut percepto adore insequitur aliquam viam, vel fugit visa ramo
vel igno transversa in via divertit, audita rugitu leonis tremit aut fugit, et sexcenta
alia, in quibus non sistit. brutum in eo, quod sensu exteriori percipit, sed per illud
in aliud dicitur. Quod plane est uti signa, scilicet repraesentatione unius non solum
pro se, sed pro altero distincto, a se. Et quod hoc etiam extendatur ad signa ex
consuetudine, ex supra dictis constat, quia cum aliqua bruta sunt disciplinae capacia, non statim a principia aliqua percipiunt, quae postea consuetudine procedente
cognoscunt, ut canis non statim a principia movetur, cum vacatur tali vel tali

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

The cogitative power, on the contrary, does not know merely
two pleasurable things, but by reason of its position as a
ministerial, a non-terminal power whose activity is directed to
the higher activity of the intellect, it can exercise a higher mode
of intellection. It knows the thing as pleasurable or painfuland such knowledge is different from that wherein we know a
pleasing or painful thing. The latter presupposes no greater immaterialization of knowledge, no power of comparing two things
as contained under the common nature. But the former is
capable of distinguishing the substratum, the reason, from the
pleasure or pain. Such a statement appears to grant to the cogitative power a degree of abstraction that puts it exceedingly
close to the intellect's ability, but further consideration will show
that such is not the case. In the first place the cogitative power
never knows anything under the modality of goodness-this is
strictly an intellectual activity-nor does it ever penetrate to
the substantial form in which this goodness inheres as an attribute of being. The sphere of knowledge of the cogitative
power is circumscribed by the useful and the harmful which are
represented in the consciousness of the sentient being as the
pleasurable and painful. The cogitative power does not know
pleasure as such-this would be to know the universal; but it
does know the object as a value object.
The intellect can apprehend the absolute form of an object
as good, and this is a knowledge which can be obtained by the
intellect per se. Moreover, this goodness is inherent in the
object itself, accruing to it by the very reason of its existence;
it is an absolute goodness. On the sensory level we do not find
absolute goodness any more than we find absolute truth. 61 The
cogitative power does not penetrate to the absolute form, it is
nomine, et postea movetur habita consuetudine. Ergo utuntur aliqua bruta signis
ex consuetudine; nam ex impositione ipsa nominis non moventur, quia non innotescit illis impositio ipsa, quae ex voluntate imponentis dependet."
61 The interesting phenomenon of a colored object which under one type of light is
of one color and under another type of light changes its hue, shows the mutable
character of the intelligible object on the sense level. We cannot speak of the
" true " color in the same sense as we do of the truth of an essence. Truth, like
being, is analogous.

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

stopped in its operation much before that. Its duty is to form
value judgments of particular objects. But these value judgments on the sense level have none of the disinterested quality
that is shown in a judgment of the intellect about the good. The
knowledge of the cogitative power is intimately connected with
the orective activity of the sentient soul which in turn is regulated by a harmony existing between the object and the subject. This harmony, or connaturality, between object and subject is not an absolute attribute of the object known, rather it
is a relationship which has no existence unless there be a knowing subject endowed with orective powers. That is why the
good on the sense level does not enjoy the absolute quality
possessed by the good on the intellectual leveL Indeed, on the
sense level we cannot speak of the good, but rather of the useful and the pleasurable. There is, therefore, in the object some
ratio agendi, some formality causing an orective activity on
the part of the subject, which is not existing absolutely but
demands a knowing subject. Value at the level of the cogitative
power means the arousal of pleasurable emotions upon the perception of an object. The cogitative power knows .the rationes
agendi in an object, it knows the value of an object, but it
knows it not in a disinterested manner for its activity is always
accompanied by an orective or affective state. 62 The knowledge
of the cogitative power is perfected not in knowing, but in
directing the activity of the appetite. The useful and the harmful are not absolute attributes of being as is the good, but they
are pure relations. These are not relationships of an abstract
order, but they are concrete relations. They are relations
founded not on the ontological, absolute nature of the object
and the subject, but upon the physical nature of both. The
object of the cogitative and estimative powers is the good of
the sense level-which is the useful-and it is no more absolute
than is the true on the sense leveL63
62 For a discussion of the role of emotion in knowledge see the article of R. Allers,
"The Cognitive Aspect of Emotions," Thomist, IV, 1942, 589-648.
63 Cajetan,
In S. Th., I-II, 32, 1: "Et quod forte fallit putantes oppositum, est
quia non advertunt quod relationes sunt in genere formarum activarum ut apprehensae; quamvis non sint in genere activarum formarum ut existentes. Et qui

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

229

The central sense, as we have seen, mediates the knowledge
which is analogous to truth on the intellectual level; the value
side of sensible being, the rationes agendi, is known by the
cogitative power. This knowledge of the cogitative power,
like that of the estimative, releases an orective movemep.t; but
unlike the estimative, the cogitative power can distinguish between the ratio agendi as an object of knowledge and as a term
of the orective activity. This does not imply a knowledge of the
category of relations: the cogitative power can distinguish between the aspect of value as knowable and as the term of
activity. On the contrary, once the estimative power has cognized the object as a term of activity and the orective activity
has been released, this power has accomplished its task. Of
course its influence is exerted in a guiding of the activity of the
appetites in their seeking of the object. The estimative power is a
terminal power in an order that is terminal; for in the irrational
animal there is no higher power to which the activity of the estimative power is subordinated. Like the cogitative power, the
estimative power is accompanied in its activity by affective
states, and with the arousal of the affective states, the value perception is not dulled but rather becomes more distinct. These
powers of value perception become more open to the reception of
the knowledge of the value aspect of the object. But by reason of
its being rooted in a rational nature, the cogitative power enjoys
a greater immateriality, a greater indetermination in action,
than does the estimative power. Both are supreme in the order
of sensory evaluation, but the estimative power proceeds in a
more material manner than does the cogitative power: its term
is never known as an object of knowledge, but always as a term
of action. Its whole activity is in directing the appetites in their
seeking of, or fleeing from, the object; it does not know the object as causing the arousal of the appetites. The cogitative power,
on the contrary, is cognizant of the object perceived under its
value aspect, as causing the arousal of the appetites. The cogineget hoc, neget quoque aestimativam, cujus objectum sunt intentiones insensatae,
elicitae ex sensatis, ut utile, amicum, inimicum, etc.; ex quibus causantur passiones in
animalibus."

6

230

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

tative power, by reason of the greater immateriality it enjoys
by dwelling in the rational soul, is capable of a certain reflection
so that it knows the concrete situation as a particular manifestation of the useful or harmful. It perceives the concrete situation
under a common nature, which is not the universal, but is this
more proximate, this
formality, namely, the value
aspect of the ratio agendi of the object. Its knowledge is not
the pure contemplation exercised by the intellect when it knows
the good, for the knowledge of the cogitative power is inevitably
accompanied by an orective state; but the cognitive and orective are not mingled together in an inextricable union as occurs
in the irrational animal where the object is apprehended solely
as a term of action. In the cogitative power the act of knowledge, the value perception, predominates, so that, despite the
constant concomitance of the orective state, the object is first
and always considered as an object of knowledge, and the act
of knowing is always distinguishable from the affective states
accompanying it.
Instinctive knowledge, therefore, is analogous to knowledge
of the first principles of the practical intellect. But as this is
knowledge on a lower level- that of sense- the instinctive
knowledge is generated immediately upon perception of the
value aspect of an object or situation. The knowledge whence
springs instinctive actions is the primitive operation of the cogitative and estimative powers; it is not a perfect knowledge in
the sense that it cannot be modified by experience, but it serves
as a foundation, a principle according to which the cogitative or
estimative power can evaluate all experience that it may later
have. Instinctive knowledge is quite as inadequate, it needs
further determination quite as much as does the principle, " Do
good and avoid evil." In the determination of these general
principles of the sense level, these intuitions of the sensory good,
the cogitative power is capable of a much higher and more refined result than is the estimative. For the estimative power,
lacking that power of reflection whereby its act of knowledgethe value-object existing in the subject as an object of knowledge-is distinguished from the accompanying affective state,

INSTINCTIVE

ESTIMATION

OF PRACTICAL

VALUES

231

cannot rise to a knowledge of the rationes agendi, the sensible
forms of good, and thus comprehend, by a process of combination of data supplied by the memory and the present situation,
a common nature under which certain individuals are contained.
On the other hand, the cogitative power is capable of this distinction between its own act-a knowledge of the rationes
agendi-and the concomitant affective states. It does not reflect upon its act in the pure manner of the intellect, for the
knowledge of the cogitative power is always one of value, one
somehow having a reference to affective tonality. Its knowledge
of its own act is mediated by means of the accompanying affective states. Even in the act of knowing its own operation, therefore, the cogitative power is not entirely divorced from affective
tonality. It is because the cogitative perceives its act as the
reason for the affective activity, as the ratio giving rise to the
emotions, that it can know its own act. And in knowing its act
as the ratio for the emotional reaction, it can distinguish between the formality of a sensible good as formal cause-object
of knowledge-and this same formality serving as final causeterm or principle of action. We speak in terms proper to the
intellect, but to elucidate somewhat more we may say that the
object known to the cogitative power as a formal cause is not
known qua formal cause; rather it is known as an object
possessing the sensible form of good, that which is the term or
principle of activity. It is because the cogitative power can by
its reflection know the difference between the object as a sensible formal cause-an object of knowledge which is the term of
its own activity-and the object as a sensible final cause, the
de facto sensible good existing here and now, the term of the
activity of the affective state. These two aspects of the individual object or situation are distinguished by the cogitative
power.
The cogitative and estimative powers, therefore, are the
faculty of animal intelligence; the instincts are the primitive
functionings of these respective faculties. But the role of the
cogitative power is of much higher order than is that of the
estimative power, for the cogitative power is profoundly modi-

232

WILLIAM

A. GERHARD

:fied and orientated in its operation by the fact that it is subservient to a higher order of cognition, the intellect. The full
significance of the estimative power is known when the animal
has reacted to a useful or harmful situation; the nature of the
cogitative· power is not entirely clear until
have considered
the higher end toward which it is directed and under whose
hegemony it operates, namely, the intellectual virtue of
prudence.
WILLIAM A. GERHARD
630 Fifth A venuet,

New YMk, N. Y.

THE VALUE OF CREATION

T

HE OLD Testament is cosmologically as well as historically incomplete without the New. For it is only in
the Revelation of the Trinity that the distinctive Mosaic
doctrine of creation ex nihilo becomes capable of satisfactory
articulation. The Name of Yahweh was indeed told to Moses.
But in the Plenitude of Being, which is the Godhead, creation
is obviously gratuitous. It is only in the generation of the Word
that the Deity is necessitated, as it is only in the Subsistent
Love of Father and Son that the Generative Act is necessarily
adequated. Moreover, it is because of the Eternal Act of selffulfillment that creation becomes intelligible. If God is substantially One but subsistently Three, the separate subsistence of
created substances is still gratuitous but no longer inexplicable,
as it remains in non-Christian thought. In Christian thought
God is One and Other and therefore the possibility of others
who are not one with Him becomes at least tenable. Thus
Christian cosmology is freed of the rigid Hellenistic rationalism, as neither the Hebrew nor the Mohammedan cosmologies
could be.
It is, then, the distinctive note of non-Christian thought that
its wisdom is always of creation and never of God as He is in
Himself. It is by the contemplation of the Christian doctrine
of the Trinity that the philosopher may discover the meaning
and value of the existential universe, i. e., of God and His creatures. All doctrines of the One remain ultimately unintelligible
unless the One is the Three in One. For the manifestation of
the Good which is expressed by creation is inexplicable in its
origin unless the Good is primarily self-fulfilling. Creation as
such is inadequate for the Creator except insofar as He is
Creator. Yet, unless God is self-fulfilled intra se, namely, by
the Trinity, He is necessitated to become self-fulfilled extra se,
which is by emanation, not creation. If, however, He is self283

234

JAMES F. KELEHER

fulfilled intra se, the creative movement is clearly understood
as free. But it is only as a free action that creation is intelligible. As necessary, it is, of course, untenable.
This is not to say, however, that the solution of the problem
of the One and the many becomes self-evident. Rather it is
given existential status which no Christian dialectic can deny.
For if creation is worth the price of the Redemption it can
hardly be a kind of emanation which occurs and recurs inevitably. H all things are one with the One, the Incarnation
and the Redemption are both meaningless. But while the Incarnation and the Redemption explain the creation as we know it,
the meaning and value of creation must be sought as it was in
the beginning.
That God made all things for Himself is an immediate corollary to the statement that He made all things. The question
being asked herein is why He made things at all when He was
obviously free not to do so. By a common agreement among
Christian thinkers the process of creation is the outpouring of
Divine Goodness in mode, species, and order, to use the classic
phrase of St. Augustine. I do not find, however, that any
Christian philosopher has answered adequately the question as
to the motivation of the creative process, the why which the
how presupposes. Certainly God does not need creation to
show His Goodness, since He is Good, i.e., self-fulfilled, without creation. Yet He does create.
It seems to me that God wills proximately, i.e., from our
point of view, to create on account of the possibility of the goodness of things as they are to exist outside God. Although the
Trinity Itself is a Plenum of Being, Truth, and Goodness which
is incommunicable as such, yet It is communicable and communicated imperfectly as separately created and subsistent
essences. These are of, by, and for God. However, they are not
in God as subsistent essences but only according to their modes
of being, truth, and goodness. Although the Divine Essence
includes all possible essences in the sense that their proper perfections are verified in a higher way in God's essence, yet it
does not include them as they are in themselves according to

THE VALUE OF CREATION

their limitations and imperfections. Therefore it is as they are
in themselves that they receive existence from God. He wills
them on account of the possibility of their goodness as separable
and subsistent. And since this separable goodness is other than
the Divine Perfection Itself, God is free to create or not to
create. But God loves each and all things less than He loves
Himself, hence ultimately on account of Himself.
Thus, while creatures exist for God, by God, and in God (according to the modes of created being) they also exist in themselves, each according to its mode. And they have value as such
for God, not only as in the Divine Perfection of God Himself.
Moreover, the value of creation is limited for God to the total
possibilities of the separate essences actually existing in His
Eternal Presence. Even humanly speaking, this is a great value.
For God it must be much more valuable. Again, from the point
of view of every creature which has not been self-corrupted,
both its own being and the created universe are of intrinsic
value, since they are both independent and interdependent. But
from the point of view of the intelligent and non-vitiated
creature, creation is not limited in value to the totality of
creation. For the modes, species, and orders of creation are so
complex as to indicate an Absolute Infinity which creates and
conserves them for the terms of their existence. And in grasping
the necessity of the Absolute Infinity, the created intelligence
transcends the limitations of creation to see through a glass
darkly the Being, Truth, and Goodness of the Creator.
Historically considered, Christian existentialism arises initially from the Revelation given to St. Peter that the Old Law
no longer applies to the followers of the New. 1 But St. Peter
was a Pope and therefore inclined to move slowly. It was the
philosopher, St. Paul, who forced the issue publicly. 2 By insisting that the Church be Catholic, not Mosaic, St. Paul forced
the revolution in human thought out of which developed eventually the concept of the integrity of the individual existent as
such. But that concept is still revolutionary in practical human
Acts of the Apostles, x-xi.
• Galatians, ii-iv.

1.

236

JAMES F. KELEHER

affairs, and has been by no means fully developed even in
speculative philosophy. Yet a totalitarian universe, as well as
a totalitarian state, is alien to Christian philosophy. It is in
God, not in the universe, that the Beatific Vision is found.
Since religion is, after all, a practical human affair, with its
own preoccupations, the ontological concept of the individual
existent appears somewhat late in Christian thought. Even in
the highly fecund philosophy of St. Augustine, the intrinsic
existential values of creation are always implied rather than
explicated. St. Augustine shares perhaps uniquely in the benevolence of God toward creation. But he lacks the divine
assurance that each creature is, under God, a going concern, a
subsistent essence. St. Augustine meditates on the wonders of
creation only in order to leap from them to the wonders of the
Creator. For St. Augustine the imperfect is of value only as it
manifests the Perfect. But, from the point of view of God
Himself, the separately existing created beings, even though
imperfect, are themselves lovable, not indeed with an Augustinian-Platonic love but certainly with an Aristotelian love. By
Aristotelian love I mean, of course, a love which desires the
good of the other. 3
God, then, desires the existence of created being, even though
its existence is, from the point of view of God, imperfect. He
sees the possibility of the less than perfect outside Himself as
the possible good of created being. These possibilities are infinite in God but become finite in themselves when established
outside God. Yet even as finite they partake of the Infinite
Being of God. They adhere and inhere to God according to
their respective modes of being. In creating, God is manifesting
Himself outside Himself. The Divine Essence is not imitable.
But It is donable or else it is not participible. Even in creating,
God does not depart entirely from Himself. He maintains some
• Nicomachean

Ethics, VIII, 3, 1156b, 5-10. For me the capital text here is

oiiTo< '"fd.p ·r' O."'faiJd. op.olws {3ov/>.ovro.< aAA?]Ao<s, ft a"'fo.IJol, O."'faiJo< 8' el<Tl K.o.IJ' o.vrovs.

(For they wish the appropriate good to each other as good, and they are good in
themselves.) Aristotle is describing only the love of human friends for one another.
But I think the text also describes the love of God for His creatures and of
intelligent creatures for God.

THE VALUE OF CREATION

287

giving of Himself outside Himself. The Essence of God is both
donable and participible.
Yet, since God is moved to create by the possibility of the
creature as good in itself, the creative act is not the manifestation of the Divine Goodness as such. It is the manifestation of
the goodness of the creature as existent. St. Augustine tried to
express the situation by maintaining that creatures are not de
illo (of God) ; they are only ab illo (by God) .4 But although
St. Augustine stated the opposition between creationism and
emanationism by his use of ab and de illo, his distinction did not
settle the problem definitively. For a creature which is only ab
illo and not de illo is antinomious in Christian philosophy.
Indeed, by identifying the N ous of Plotinus with the Logos
of St. John, transforming the Ideas of Plato into Divine Exemplars, and then finding the Stoic rationes seminales as the
historic expression of the Exemplars, St. Augustine himself
made the universe also de Deo in one way or another. Thus,
since creation is both of and by God, its existence apart from
God is good in the sight of God. Yet, since the modality of the
creature is a determinate essence, the existence of the essence is
also determinate. And, as determinate, the individual existent
has its own autonomy, its own incommunicability or integrity,
its own subsistence.
Hence it is Boethius rather than St. Augustine who is the
philosopher of the Incarnation. For it is Boethius' original
doctrine of subsistence which provides the ontological foundation for the doctrine of the Hypostatic Union. However, the
Boethian doctrine of subsistence not only throws light on the
Incarnation; it also explains creation. For, since, as St. Thomas
says, " properly speaking, subsistent things are truly created," 5
the value of creation for God is in the subsistent essences. God
does not love His creatures because He needs them, or even
because they need Him. He loves them because they are lovable
in themselves.
Since the essence is of God and the existence is by God, the
De Natura Bani, Cap. I.
• Summa
I, q. 45, a. 4, c.

4,

J .AMES F. KELEHER

necessity for a real distinction between essence and existence
has been apparent since Boethius first made the distinction. 6
What is not so apparent, although it is a commonplace of
philosophic discussion, is the real distinction in the subsistent
essences of matter and form. Aristotle, of course, is the author
of this most famous distinction of them all. And, in re-examining the validity of Aristotle's discovery, the historical background of that discovery seems to me most important. The
careful examination of his own background which Aristotle himself makes regularly before resolving disputed questions has made
it a " common notion " in the history of philosophy that Aristotelianism represents a final synthesis in the progress of human
inquiry. And the Aristotelian doctrine of matter and form is
certainly a distinctive and definitive doctrine of the Philosopher.
However, it is no denial of the greatness of Aristotle to note
that he failed to solve satisfactorily many important questions
in philosophy. And, although he solved the question of matter
and form in a manner which has been accepted generally as
satisfactory for twenty-three hundred years, the Aristotelian
analysis of individual substance seems to me unacceptable in a
creationist ontology. For, in common with every other type of
natural wisdom, Greek wisdom, including Aristotle, is incapable
of having a valid ontology because it lacks the concept of
creation.
Aristotle shares with the Milesian philosophers the notion of
a primary but concrete substratum from which and to which
all physical change is ordered. The still unanswered question
put by Aristotle to Plato: whatever do the Ideas contribute to
sensible things/ springs from this autochthonous concreteness
of Aristotle. So far as I know, however, no one has asked
Aristotle what the substratum contributes to sensible things. I,
however, do ask the question. And in neither Aristotle nor any
Aristotelian do I find a satisfactory answer. Certainly the
God of Moses and St. John does not need any indeterminate
6 Quomodo rubstantiae in eo quod sint, bonae sint, cum non sint substantialia
bona. Rules II, VI, and VIII.
7 Meta., I, 9, 99la, 10.

THE VALUE OF CREATION

239

substratum in order to manifest His Goodness. Nor does He
need a matter co-created with the form, as SL Thomas can be
construed to suggest, 8 in order to establish the order of creation.
For if we reject both Platonic Forms and Aristotelian matter as
unverifiable and unwarranted abstractions, we are still left with
simple essences proceeding translucently from the Divine
Essence.
The finding of translucent essences proceeding from the
Divine Essence by the free creative fiat of the Divine Will reiterates the historic Christian doctrine of the value of the individual existent in itself. The direct and immediate ontological
relation of every creature to his Creator is found only in the
Judaeo-Christian culture, with its distinctive creationist basis.
If, however, all subsistent essences, spiritual and physical, are
simple rather than composite, the Peripatetic solution of the
problem of generation and corruption must also be denied. For
that solution is, of course, based on the assumption that there is
an
substratum common to all substantial change,
called prime matter. Now the history of prime matter is a long
and rather honorable one. Since Aristotle used it to get the
Forms down to earth, the concept of prime matter has survived,
with some variations, until today. Matter has been satanized
by Plotinus 9 and deified by David of Dinant. Against the
Gnostics, Clement of Alexandria exorcised it of eviP 0 Then St.
Augustine 11 gave to matter the substantial character which
Aristotle had refused it merely by saying "No," after he had
almost reasoned himself into saying "Yes." 12 The substantiality of matter remains as a common assumption of medieval
thought until St. Thomas revived the historic Aristotelian concept of the indeterminate substrate. But, while St. Thomas
defended the Aristotelian doctrine of the eternity of the world
as logically possible, his acceptance of creation in time as historically true led him to construe matter as intrinsically cosubstantial in the Augustinian manner rather than extrinsically
co-substantial in the Aristotelian. But the systematic developSumma Theologica, I, q. 44, a. 2.
• Enneads, I, 8. 5.
10 Stromata, VII, 3.

8

11
12

Confessions, 12, 7.
Meta., Vll, 3.

JAMES F. KELEHER

ment of matter as the principle of individuation by St. Thomas
is authentically Aristotelian, in opposition to the AugustinianFranciscan insistence on matter as a concrete potency, prope
nihil (almost nothing) rather than prope aliquid (almost
something) .
But whether as prope nihil or prope aliquid, the concept of
matter as substantial still persists in Western thought. Even
the Berkeleian rejection of materialism, while furnishing an
illuminating and fruitful moment in .the progress of human
inquiry, is defective by reason of its confusion of substance with
matter. The affirmation of the ontological character of individual substance remains a pre-requisite to ariy valid account
of the universe and is eminently indispensable to the account
which is suggested herein. For, unlike Berkeley, I accept the
common experience of mankind as pre-emptive in philosophy.
The basic insight of common experience consists in the
discovery of similarity and diversity in the complex of existence.
If only from the practical necessities of human living there is
manifested a more or less orderly dynamism of distinctive
essences. It is the task of practical wisdom to understand as
far as possible the diversity of apparent similars and the similarity of apparent diversities in order that men may enjoy a
life which is truly good by the proper employment and enjoyment of things as they are. Again, the task of speculative
wisdom is properly that of discovering a fundamental unity of
purpose in the diversity of experience in order that this diversity may be ultimately intelligible. Thus it seems that the ends
of practical and speculative wisdom are the same. To get in
tune with the universe, one must be in tune with the entire
complex of existence, including Creator and creation. And since
the Creator must have wanted something different from Himself through His creative activity, a fundamental pluralism is an
inevitable conclusion of speculative as well as practical wisdom.
The reality of substantial change is the fundamental insight
of Aristotle as the fundamental pluralism of being was Plato's.
But the common error of these two great thinkers was the
doctrine that forms· as such are fixed and immutable. It is true
that forms as we know them are fixed and immutable. But the

THE VALUE OF CREATION

essences themselves are per se contingent. For there is a real
distinction between essence and existence even in the spiritual
order of created existence. The incorruptibility of spirit can
mean, properly, only that it is not subject to the physical laws of
change. For, since it does not have in itself the basis for its own
existence, the spirit is forever dependent for existence on its
Creator. We do not need faith to hold the immortality of the
spirit, i. e., to know that it is not subject to physical death. But
we do need faith to hold with positive certainty that finite
spirits persist forever in existence.
Both physical and spiritual essences, then, are subject to
change. But they are not indiscriminately mutable. Both their
actualities and their possibilities are limited. Neither spiritual
nor physical essences are immutable and universal forms limited
by the potency of matter to individually less perfect existences
than the forms themselves maintain in the Divine Essence. All
created essences are limited by the mode of their existence,
which is outside the Divine Essence. To repeat, God does not
need an indeterminate substratum which limits the perfection
of creatable essences as they exist in the Divine Intellect. For
as created the essences are per se limited, although subsistent.
Each subsistent essence is individual, contingent, perfectible,
and non-eternal. The universality, necessity, immutability and
permanence which characterize the ideas by which we know
the essences are, of course, fundamentally in re. But actually
there exist only the subsistent essences, which have transcendental, generic, specific, and particular qualities according to
their singular modes of being. There is a community of beings,
which includes God as the One Who made the many. But there
is no community of being. For each being is singular, although
only God is unique.
We have, then, both the Unicity of God and the intrinsic
unity of each created being. Each creature is in God but it is
also in itself. For it acts by its own power. That power is
limited to the activities proper to the creature, to its internal
and external capacities. And these are more or less determinable. To tranfer our own cognitional inadequacies to the things
we know, by considering them as either indeterminate or inde-

JAMES F. KELEHER

terminable, is, it seems to me, another kind of ontologism. For
the progress of human thought indicates that the mystery of
the universe is subjective rather than objective. We do not
know all there is to know about anything. But we certainly do
know more and more about everything. And whatever may be
the historical derivation of any particular existent, it is limited
to a mode, a species, and an order of existence which are
revealed to diligent search.
That the present mode, species, and order of things will continue to exist we do not know. That they will be replaced by a
different existential situation we also do not kn-- w. There
is no present evidence that they will be, although there is, of
course, evidence available that the mode, species, and order of
things have changed in the past. But we do know that the
subsistent essences persist in existence eaoh as itself. Things
are not just " haecceities," as the Scotists maintain. They are
rather" ipseities," to use a new term in philosophy.
Bytheuseoftheterm "ipseity," Iintendtoindicateapodictically that things subsist in themselves. This, of course, neither
idealist not materialist will admit. For the idealist knows only
God, not the ipseities which God creates. The world is too
much for the idealist, as it hardly is for God. Even the exuberant dialectic of the Subtle Doctor could never get him out of
the Divine Essence. And, of course, Scotus didn't want to get
out. However, to paraphrase the comedian Durante, "everyone does not want to get into the Act." For the Pure Act which
is God has also its Integrity, its Unicity. God created the
ipseities to be themselves, not to become absorbed in Him.
For He does not need us. Moreover, we must remember our
materialistic brethren, who will have nothing to do with Him.
For them neither God nor the ipseities exist. They find a great
deal of activity but no actuality. Matter, matter, everywhere,
and never a sign to show it as it really is.
The ipseities, then, are generally distinguishable but they are
imperfectly known even in concreto. They are autonomous.
But they are not monadic. For they interact with one another.
And in these actions they are entelio. They have functions and
ends which are approximately determinable. However, al-

THE VALUE OF CREATION

243

though they are purposive, the ipseities are also incompetent
in themselves. For they are self-subsistent extrinsically only,
not intrinsically. Not only the individual but also the species
may vanish from the earth. And since things are self-subsistent,
but only extrinsically, therefore they require a Creator to account for their production and persistence in existence.
I have now returned to the Divine Essence whence I came.
For, since the ipseities are determined to a limited autonomy
of being, there must be a transcendent Power which determines
them. And that Power is Itself determined or not determined,
that is, finite or infinite. If it is finite, it is determined by some
other being. And so on until the Infinite Being is found. For,
as Aristotle pointed out, " those who maintain the infinite
series, eliminate the good without knowing it." 13 Moreover,
the ipseities themselves cannot be construed as limiting or
determining God, because it is they who are limited themselves
and this in the very fundament of their being. Again, there is
no eternal Law in the universe except the Law of the Love of
God. There is no universal finite order evident to us by which
the Creator might be determined. There is no Reason in us
nor in things. But there are rationes or finite orders both in us
and in things. And thus it seems to me that there must be an
Infinite Reason both in and above the various finite rationes
present to us. And this is the Immanent and Transcendent
God.
I am, then, attempting to induce herein to an infinite and
irresistible Purpose from the preliminary generalization that
there are countless finite purposes, some of which are attained
and some not attained. I infer that there is a Purpose. But my
knowledge of It is approximate. For, if my inference is correct,
God knows exactly what He is doing but we do not. We are,
however, evidently expected to inquire, since we each have an
intelligence which is capable of doing so. Moreover, since our
minds are discursive, not intuitive, we must expect to change
them sometimes.
JAMES

Mineola, N. Y.
'" Meta., II, 2, 994b, 12.

F. KELEHER

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST
BY JOHN OF ST. THOMAS*
Translated from the Latin by
JAMES

M. EGAN, 0. P. and WALTER D. HuGHES, 0. P.
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springsBecause the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
-GERARD MANLEY HoPKINS.

" Send forth thy spirit and they shall be created and thou shalt
renew the face of the earth." These words suggest the background
of a dead and dreary world, a chaotic mass of unformed matter.
No order or· meaning reveals itself to the mind. No minute beauties
catch the eye, no glorious vistas lead it off to far horizons. But
down from the heavens-sweeps the Spirit of God, and as He passes
order springs out of chaos, beauty out of ugliness. With loving
gentleness, the Spirit of Love conquers the inertia of matter and
creates a world of mystery and splendor. What a moment before
seemed an impossible task is accomplished, because God sends
forth His Spirit and renews the face of the earth.
The inertia of matter is superable as wax in comparison with the
hardness of a human heart turned from God. The original chaos
somehow seems ordered in contrast to the chaos existing in the
minds and hearts of men today. It is a fact that we cannot escape.
And we must do something about it. At present the burden of our
Faith and the burden of our Charity lie heavily upon us. Constantly
*EDITOR's NoTE: In publishing this English translation of John of St. Thomas'
treatise on the Gifts or the Holy Ghost, THE THOMIST is departing from its usual
practise of presenting only works of original speculation. However, since this
year marks the tercentenary of the publication of the treatise (published by
Didacus Ramirez, O.P.), the editors wished to honor the great Thomistic commen·
tator by making one of his finest works available to the English-speaking
'l'o the translation have been prefaced an historical introduction by Walter D.
Hughes, 0. P. and a theological introduction by James M. Egan, 0. P. The out.
lines that appear in different places throughout the work are not to be understood
as being a part of the original text of John of St. Thomas; they are original with
the present translators.

244

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

245

we pray God to send forth His Spirit and renew the face of the
earth.
In the first transition from chaos to order the Spirit worked
alone; this is no longer universally true. By preference, He now
works through and with others. In fact, He works through the
Catholic Church, the mystical body of Christ, of which He is the
souL That is why the Catholic Church is the principal agency in
bringing about the kingdom of God on earth. If order is to be
restored to the world, it must be brought by the Spirit of God
working in the Church and in her members.
The Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Love, is also the aU-pervading
Spirit of Wisdom. " For wisdom is more active than all active
things, and reacheth everywhere by reason of her purity. For she
is a vapour of the power of God and a pure emanation of the glory
of almighty God. . . . For she is the brightness of eternal light,
and the unspotted mirror of God's majesty, and the image of his
goodness. And being but one, she can do all things; and remaining
in herself the same, she reneweth all things, and through nations
conveyeth herself into holy souls, she maketh the friends of God
and prophets. For God loveth none but him that dwelleth with
wisdom. For she is more beautiful than the sun, and above all the
order of the stars: being compared with the light she is found before
it. For after this cometh night, but no evil can overcome wisdom.
She reacheth therefore from end to end mightily, and ordereth all
things sweetly." 1
It is about time, therefore, that we realized the need for a new
outpouring of the Holy Ghost, Who alone can guide us in the
extraordinarily complex task of winning the world back to Christ
and to His Church. The more we realize the need of the Holy
Ghost's aid, the more we should desire it and pray for it. But
further we must be sure that we are prepared to receive His
assistance when He gives it. A renewed study of the traditional
doctrine on the gifts of the Holy Ghost is necessary at the present
time; we receive these gifts at our baptism, we hear about them
during catechetical instruction, and then forget about them for the
rest of our lives.
There must, then, be a deeper appreciation of the part played
in the spiritual life by the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and by the
' Wisdom, vii, £4-viii, 1.

7

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

Holy Ghost Himself. The classic treatise on this subject is the
one by the great Thomistic commentator, John of St. Thomas,
which is presented here in translation.
The translation is prefaced by two introductions. The historical
introduction needs no explanation. The aim of the theological
introduction is to place the treatise on the Gifts of the Holy
Ghost in line with the general Thomistic teaching on the spiritual
life. Moreover, since John of St. Thomas treats very summarily two
questions allied to that on the Gifts concerning the fruits of the
Holy Spirit and the beatitudes, they will receive a more detailed
consideration in the introduction.

A. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.
With his life given in the service of the Spanish crown, his soul
devoted to God, and his pen dedicated to the whole world? John
of St. Thomas bore the burdens of others in fulfillment of the law
of Christ. In his measure and in his time, he filled what was wanting
in the suffering of Christ by his wholehearted devotion to God.
His pen supported beleaguered orthodoxy and Thomism in theological controversies whose reverberations have not yet subsided,
while his mortal life, given to the service of his adopted nation and
its king, was crushed under the burdens of the crumbling Spanish
empire.
In mundane affairs John of St. Thomas was a minor actor,
standing half in the spotlight, half in the shadows, while the principals were dicing for the destinies of Europe. Under the Providence
of God, his very entry on the scene was occasioned by the needs of
the Spanish crown. To assure the devolution of that crown to a
head worthy of its imperial glory and Catholic heritage, Philip IT
brought to Spain, as companion of his own weak and incorrigible
son Don Carlos, the Archduke Albert of Austria. 8 In the archduke's
company during his journey to the Iberian Peninsula-while " Don
Juan of Austria was riding to the sea "-was Albert's secretary,
Peter Poinsot. When Archduke Albert was made a cardinal and
Didacus Ramirez, friend and earliest biographer of John of St. Thomas, as
well as first editor of his work, phrased it thus: " . . . unus persona, multus officio,
Deo Regi, et Orbi deservians, mente Deo, Vita Regi, calamo orbi." Preface to
Volume IV of Cur8U8 Tkeologicus, Madrid, 1645, Lyons, 1663, Cologne, 1771, Paris,
1981.
"Cf. James Echard, Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum, IT, p. 538b.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

247

viceroy of Portugal, his secretary went with him to Lisbon. There,
not later than 1583, Peter Poinsot met an,d married Mary Garcez.
Of this union of equally noble Austrian and Portuguese families
were born two sons, Luis, who is rescued from oblivion by his
connection with his brother/ and John, who was born and "born
again" on July the ninth i:n the parish of St. Mary of the Martyrs
in the hectic year which followed the defeat of the Armada in
1588.5 Seven years later, because of the changing fortunes of Spain,
Albert and Peter Poinsot went to the Low Countries, but John
remained in Portugal for almost a decade. 6
During that space off the stage of the public activities of Albert's
household, John was enrolled at the famous Jesuit University at
Coimbra. There he studied the arts and philosophy while Shakespeare was writing Macbeth and Francis Bacon was advancing
the death of philosophy with the Advancement of Learning. 7
During his single year of theology at Coimbra 8 he probably heard
of the Jesuit-Dominican controversy on grace, begun when he was
born and then entering a critical stage for the rectors of Coimbra
and their confreres. 9 Moreover, it is not unlikely that he saw but
never heard Francisco Suarez, since, after his unhappy visit to
• Luis Poinsot received his Bachelor of Arts degree from Coimbra at the same
time as John (Archiv. Conimbricensis Universitatis, Autos e graos, Vol.
fol.
He then entered the school of law. In 1610, already a professed religious in
the Order of the Most Holy Trinity, he returned to Coimbra to study theology
(ibid. Provas de Cursos, Vol. 8, fol.
After teaching in various places, he
returned to Coimbra in 1637. He attained to the chair of theology named after
Durandus in 1648 and that named after Scotus in 1653. He died in 1655 (ibid.
Processos das cadeiras, Vol.
fol. ll7v). Cf. Cursus Theologicus Joannis a S.
Thoma., ed. Sollemne, Paris, 1931. Appendix vii, p. lxix.
5 July 9, 1589' is universally agreed upon as the date of his birth, but his birthplace and parentage are almost as much disputed as those of Homer. Cf. Didacus
Ramirez, op. cit.; Echard, op. cit. ll, pp. 555 ff. Vincentius Baron Duo postremi
apologiae libri, Paris, 1666, and Cursus Theologicus, ed. Sollemne, appendix xv, p.
lxxxvi.
• Cf. W. T. Walsh, Philip Il, Sheed and Ward, 1937, p. 708; and Archiv.
Conimbric. Universit., Provas de Cursos, Vol. 7, fol. 2.
7 In unanimous agreement the examining board of Jesuit Fathers
gave John of
St. Thomas his baccalaureate in arts on March 11, 1605. (Archiv. Conimbric. Universit., Autos e graos, Vol.
fol.
8 That year
(October 14, 1605 to March, 1606) was spent under Fr. Jeronimo
and Fr. Salvador, Trinitarians, at Coimbra. (Archiv. Conimbric. Universit., Provas
de Cursos, Vol. 7, fol. ll3v .)
• Cf. Alfred Whitacre, 0. P., Dublin Remew, vol. 186, no. 372, p. 71.

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

Rome, Coimbra's greatest doctor did not resume his public lectures
until October 1606. 10 By that time John Poinsot had left Portugal
and had once more appeared upon the public scene with his father
and the other intimates of Albert, then Governor of the Netherlands.
Continuing his 'theological studies in Belgium, John Poinsot retired
deep into the scholastic life of the University of Louvain. During
his two ad,ditional years of theological study John came under the
influence of the Dominican master Thomas de Torres. By his life
and by his profound theological discourses the Dominican professor
instilled in John Poinsot a reverence for the religious life and an
insatiable desire for a thorough knowledge of the doctrine of St.
Thomas. For the " pearl of great price " offered him by Thomas
de Torres, John Poinsot was' willing to barter the company of his
parents, worldly goods, and all hope of civil or ecclesiastical
dignities.
Acting upon the suggestion of his Dominican preceptor, John
Poinsot went to the convent of Our Lady of Atocha in Madrid.
There he made his novitiate and pronounced his profession under
the name John of St. Thomas. 11 Although he had already received
his Baccalaureus Biblicus at Louvain-at the same time as Cornelius Jansenius, later bishop and heresiarch 12-he was required to
spend three years in theological study within the Dominican convent.13 He then spent several years in Madrid, teaching as artium
lector and exercising the important office of Master of Students,
planting and watering in the minds and hearts of his younger
on confession
' 0 Despite the best efforts of Father Suarez, one of his propositions
and absolution wa.s condemned by a decree of the Holy Office, Juue 20, 1602.
Suarez returned to Coimbra in January, 1606. Cf. R. de Scorraille, Fran9ois Suarez,
Paris, 1913, ii, pp. 67, 81 ff.; and Denziger, Enchiridion Symbolorum, 1088.
11 His profession took place on July 18, 1610, according to the Catalogus of Jose
de la Concepcion, Madrid, 1747, fol. 149B. His choice of a religious name indicates
his devotion to St. Thomas, but the assumption of a religious nan..e was not rare
in Portugal even at that time. Cf. R. P. Mortier, Histoire des MaUres Gbnereaux
de l'Ordre des FrertNI Precheurs, t. v. p. 435.
12 Cf. Archives generales du Royaume,
Archiv. de l'Univ. de Louv., no. 507,
fol. 23 and 24r in Cursus Theologicus, ed. Sollemne, appendix viii, p. lxvii.
18 It does not seem possible to hold that he took the full seven-year course then
prescribed, respite the statement of Gabriel de Cepeda, 0. P .: " ... solo se dispenso
quando professo, de Sumulas y Logica, concurriendo con los demas estudiantes a oir
Filosofia.''

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

249

brethren the same Dominican spirituality which was even then
germinating the :first flower of American sanctity, St. Rose of Lima.
In 1620 John of St. Thomas began his formal theological expositions of the Summa Theologica of St. Thomas: After teaching for a
short time in Piacenza and Madrid, he was appointed associate
professor of theology at the University of Alcala. 14 At this famous
university, John of St. Thomas communicated without envy the
teachings of the Angelic Doctor which he had received without
guile. Under Dominican tutelage, John of St. Thomas, not unlike
his baptismal patron at Patmos, had received the book from the
hand of the angel and devoured it. His assimilation of Thomism
was so thorough that his contemporaries thought of him as a
" second Thomas," and second only to Thomas in his manner of
presentation. He lectured to classes larger than any others then
assembled in Spain, and he labored zealously to fashion square and
solid the living stones of the " fortress of Catholicism."
During his decade or more as associate professor as well as when
he succeeded his confrere Peter of Tapia in the principal theological
chair at Alcala, John of St. Thomas exercised the office of Qualificator of the Supreme Council of the Spanish Inquisition. 15 To
him was given the task of editing the index of prohibited books
and assisting in the preparation of difficult cases.16 With justice
and charity he fulfilled his duties in that providential institution
which kept from the borders of Spain the ravages of religious wars
like the Thirty Years War then raging throughout most of Europe.
His judicatory and scholastic duties, however, did not prevent
him from exercising the office of preacher. On. solemn occasions,
whether in the presence of a bishop, or before an assemblage of
dignitaries of his own Order, John of St. Thomas preached the
word of God in the church as he had expounded it in the classroom.17 Unimpeachable stability in doctrine and clarity in exposition marked his sermons with the same utility for souls which was
so characteristic of his counsels in the confessional.
Cf. R. P. Beltran de Heredia, Cientia Tomista, t. xiv (1916), p. 294.
Cf. Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit.; Quetif, Synopsis vitae Joannis aS. Thoma, Paris,
1667. Cf. Echard, loc. cit.
16 Cf. Memorial Historico Espanol of the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, t. xii,
pp. 155-156.
17 Cf. Jose de la Concepcion, op. cit., (Cursus Theol., ed. Sollemne, Appendix iv,
n. 8, p. lvi.)
14

15

250

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

His regency of souls in the confessional extended from King
Philip IV to the poorest persons in the Spanish dominions. Affable
and accessible to all, John of St. Thomas was calm and benign in
difficulties but adamant in maintaining the truth. Although he was
confessor to Philip IV for little more than a year/ 8 he gave the
troubled and vacillating monarch a determined course of moral
action. Moreover, in many affairs of state it was the impartial and
eminently practical judgment of John of St. Thomas which prevailed in factional disputes. Constantly at Philip's side, he was
indefatigable in his spiritual labors for the king and the realm. On
his advice Philip IV went to Saragossa in 1644 to encourage his
troops to victory after so many defeats. 19 Accompanying the king on
this campaign, John of St. Thomas gave Spain and its sovereign sound
counsel and heroic example. In the midst of the tumult and rejoicing of Philip's victorious army, this holy Dominican friar, the
greatest Thomistic theologian of the modern era, ended his mortal
life. He died either from fever or from poison on July 17, 1644.20
In accord with his own request, his body was taken to the Convent
of Our Lady of Atocha in Madrid, where his remains now lie under
the Altar of Christ.
Any evil men may recognize in the life of John of St. Thomas has,
let us hope, been washed away by the blood from Christ's wounds.
The good which God willed and accomplished in him and through
him gives evidence that he was a son of God, led by the spirit of
God.
Hunger and thirst for God's justice were characteristic of both
the zeal and the patience of John of St. Thomas. Trials and conCf. Didacus Ramirez, op. cit., and Quetif, loc. cit.
J. J. Panzirolus, Apostolic Nuntio to Spain, wrote to the Roman Curia:
" ... Si sono fatte molte consulte se era bene che S. Maesta si muovesse da
Saragozza e tutti sono stati per la negativa eccetto quella del P. Fra. Giovanni di
S. Thoma .... " Archiv. Vatic. Nunziat. di Spangna. Reg. 89, April 3, 1644. Cf.
Cu• sus Theol., ed. Sollemne, appendix xiii, p. lxxxiii.
20 T.
Soueges affirms, "D'apres Ramirez et Quetif, cette mort prematuree
tiendrait a des causes criminelles. Jean de Saint-Thomas aurait ete empoisonne."
Annee Dominicaine, Juin, ed. Jevain, Lyon, 1893, note on p. 365. Cf. R. P. Simonin,
Bulletin Thomiste, Sept. 1930, p.
Sufficient evidence has not yet been
advanced to prove any criminal cause for his death, but it would be imprudent to
deny that a confessor who taught " the naked truth " to Philip IV might have
aroused the hostility of the fawning courtiers and unworthy favorites (o whom the
king had previously delegated the conduct of public affairs.
18

19

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

251

tradictions evoked from the depths of his soul a prayer for " the
daily bread'' of divine strength, and adversity galvanized his holy
enthusiasm to even greater efforts in the service of God. When he
received the command to assume the office of royal confessor which
his humility dreaded, he conquered his aversion and said simply,
" My life is finished, and I am dead. Pray for me." 21 Since his life
was Christ and his death gain, with the strength of the holy ones of
God, he welcomed his final hour. His soul was clad in the armor
of Christ's sacraments and his powers of mind and heart, fortified
by the Gift of the Holy Ghost, were intent upon the omnipotence
and the mercy of God. 22
The Gift of Fortitude which conquered human fear in the soul
of John of St. Thomas was rooted in a filial Fear of God. That Gift
of the Holy Ghost which inspires the " poor of spirit " moved him
to a horror of sin. Calling upon God who " works all in all " to free
him from evil, he delighted in the will of God alone and coveted
only a holy disdain for earthly goods. His cell was bare and his
clothing poor. He never acquired for himself the slightest profit
from his labor and his publications, but with childlike simplicity he
submitted all to the disposal of his superiors. 23 Moreover, before
assuming the position of confessor to Philip IV, he stipulated that
he and his companion should receive mere sustenance and that the
remainder of his annuity should be distributed to the poor. Poverty
in exterior goods was complemented with paucity in the comforts
he allowed his own body. God pierced his flesh with fear, and fasts
and bloody scourging drained the dregs of self-love which remained.24 Filial fear of God was the beginning of his wisdom, but it
was not its enQ..
""Cf. Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit.
2l<Jbifl.

•• Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit. " Etsi pecuniis abundans quae ex tot librorum
impressionibus repetitis profluebant nee sibi servabat partem ... plena in magnitudine pauper, et plena in paupertate magnificus.... "
20 Ibid.
" ... quadrigesimali medio tempore totam, pane contentus et aqua,
studiorum laboribus, assiduaque virtutum exercitatione saginatus . . . sanguine
suo sui respersi libri contestantur, disciplinammque ac ciliciornm copiosa suppellectili perplenum scrinium proclamat." His humility was strikingly like that of
St. Thomas: " Solum excanduit quando his in Priorem Conventus Regalia de Atocha
amantissimi Fratres poposcerunt, quos licet fraternali prosequeretur effectu, ardentiori tamen conatu humilitatem colebat, alia etiam extra Ordinem dignitatum
(adhuc Episcopalis) munia repudians." Ibid.

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

Filial fear was germane to filial piety in the soul of John of St.
Thomas. Moved by fear, he protested as a returning prodigal, that
he was not worthy to be called a son of God, but· in his piety he
thanked God for the banquet of His graces. This banquet was but
the pledge that he would " possess the land " because he was
blessedly meek of heart. His meekness and humility of heart were
founded upon a filial affection for God and the sons of God. By
an impulse of the Holy Ghost he transcended his religious obligation
of gratitude for the blessings he had received, and he" gave thanks
to the Holy One and the Host High" because of His great glory.
Moreover, God's glory participated in by His sons founded a new
debt of justice which John of St. Thomas promptly rendered to all
his consorts in divine life. Trusting in a divine victory over temptations against complete submission to the Holy Ghost, he prayed
" lead us not into temptation." His piety towards those to whom
God had given faith in His Son was put to a severe test in the
Jansenist controversy. John of St. Thomas was called upon to
judge the doctrines of some of the staff at Louvain, since he was
adviser to Philip IV who held civil dominion over the University.
Representations were made to him by the Apostolic Delegate of
Spain and by several of the professors of Louvain. 25 However, he
lacked conclusive evidence that the accused were actually promulgating the sinuous spirituality condemned by Pope Urban VIII.
Until he had received ample information from impartial witnesses,
he was unwilling to condemn as heretics Catholic theologians
hitherto bound to him by their common piety toward their divine
Father.
The solid piety of John of St. Thomas was not founded upon
sentimentalism but upon the Gift of Knowledge. Led by the Spirit
of God, ·he became supremely conscious of the depravity of sin. In
this blessed mourning for his offenses against God's majesty, he
was comforted by prayer for the forgiveness of his transgressions,
and by hope in the mercy of God. His prayer for forgiveness was
implemented by the Sacrament of Penance, which he received, as
•• Cf. Cursus Theol., ed. Sollemne, appendix xiii and xiv. There is absolutely no
foundation for the statement, "Ce pere leur (Jansenistes) rendoit de bons offices
aupres du roy ... ,·made by P.R. Rapin, S.J., Mennoi:res, Paris, 1865 t. I, p. 16.
The Jansenists themselves did not claim him as favorable to their position, hence
he could not have given them the slightest indication of approbation.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

253

we have said, each day before celebrating Mass. 26 His hope had
its source in a living faith. His simple assent to the authority of
God prepared his soul for the Gift of Understanding. By the enlightenment of the Holy Ghost he was enabled to penetrate truths
hidden in Sacred Scripture arid in all the realms of the spiritual
life. With a pure heart he saw God in all things and he prayed for
the coming of His Kingdom.
For John of St. Thomas the coming of God's Kingdom meant
the fulfillment of the ardent desire of his soul. His charity impelled
him towards God, and the Gift of Wisdom enabled him to taste
and see the goodness of God in an experiental and mystical union.
Like St. Thomas, " . . . he gazed with the gentle eye of his intellect
at : .. Truth, whereby he acquired supernatural light, and science
infused by grace, for he obtained it rather by means of prayer than
by human study." 27 "Science infused by grace," the W'isdom
which is the light of life, ordered his contemplation, his life
and his writings. His contemplation revolved uniformly about
thoughts of God, never deviating to lesser things nor requiring
any reasoning process to elaborate the " savory science of the
saints." Wisdom produced in his soul a connaturality to divine
things, and in this prelude to future glory, he experienced an intimate and loving contact with the mysteries of salvation and the
hidden things of God. By the annointing of the Holy Ghost he was
taught to " hallow " the name of God and to contemplate " Divine
Truth and its universal radiation." By his teaching and his writing
he distributed to others the fruits of his contemplation. At his
death he protested before the Blessed Sacrament that he had never
taught or written anything he did not judge consonant with truth
and in conformity with the teaching of the Angelic Doctor. 28 In
virtue of the ordered tranquillity within his own soul, he was able
to become a " peacemaker " among men.
•• Didacus Ramirez, loe. cit. " . . . quotidianam Missae celebrationem, quam
generalis fere confessio praecedebat."
27 St. Catherine
of Sienna, Dialogue, tr. Thorold. Treatise oil Obedience, ch.
cxxxix. Cf. Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit. " ... indefatigabili semper studio desudans
pro tenenda veritate, pro Angelico Doctore defendensando, cuius verbo, voce, cuius
prosecutione ministerii oratione, jejuniis, frequentique disciplina communitus
vigilabat."
"" Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit. "numquam triginta annorum spatio aut scripsisse
aut docuisse quod veritati consonum, atque Angelico Doctori confome non judicaret.

"

254

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

The peace of Christ which John of St. Thomas brought to so
many souls was evidence of the inner breathing of the Holy Ghost
through the Gift of Counsel. Simple as a dove and wise as a serpent,
John of St. Thomas gave advice which was simple in its supernatural origin and serpentine in its adaptability to the contingencies
of human life. In Christ-like simplicity he directed to God, who
works all things according to the counsel of his will, his humble
prayer, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. With apostolic
constancy, he labored, as a good soldier of Christ Jesus, to bring
about a realization of God's will among men. Prelates and the poor,
royalty and theologians sought his counsel. To the poor he was a
father by his advice and his alms, and for those who had no friends
at court, he was a mendicant of mercy importuning the king. 2 !f
Peter of Tapia and John of Palafox, as theologians and as bishops,
found in the counsel of John of St. Thomas comfort in their anxieties and a secure guide in many difficulties. 80 To King Philip IV,
during whose reign the etiquette of the Spanish court was more
rigorous than its ethics, the advice of his Dominican confessor was
salutary in both the Kingdom of Heaven and the Spanish realm.n
The oral advice which John of St. Thomas was able to give
during his lifetime was confined to the kingdom of Spain, but the
work of his pen was carried throughout the world. His innumerable
replies to questions and difficulties proposed by prelates and theologians are for the most either lost or buried in the dust of diocesan
or university archives. However, three of his works in the vernacular have survived, because of their popularity and wide circulation. To assist missionaries to India in the salvation of souls he
wrote an explanation of Christian doctrine in 1640-the same year
in which John Milton was contributing to the loss of paradise for
so many souls by his second pamphlet on divorce. 32 Seven editions
29 Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit. " Hilarior nunquam, ac nunquem ditior quam quando
pauperum libellos Magno suo offerebat Regi, pro ipsis exorans usque ad ipsius
taedium exorationis, Regium dicens Confessarium Patris Pauperum, qui Regale
cubile facile nequeunt adire ut suas propalent Supremo Domino petitiones, nomen
et vocem habere."
8 ° Cf. Antonio de Lorea, 0. P.
El Siervo de Dios ... D. Fr. Pedro de Tapia,
Madrid, 1676. Jose de la Concepion, op. cit. tom. l.
81 Quetif,
op. cit. " ... sitque illi ab arcanis Confessionibus intimisque consiliis."
•s The work is called Explicaci6n de la doctrina christiana y la obligacion cltJ loa
fides en career y obrar, Madrid, 1640.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

255

of this compendium of Catholic doctrine and practices were published in Spanish before it was translated into Italian, Latin, Gaelic
and Polish. 33 For King Philip IV he wrote a directory for a general
and just before he died he wrote a brief treatise on the
preparation for a happy death. 35
The first major Latin work of John of St. Thomas, his Oursus
Philosophicus, was an exposition of the philosophical disciplines
according to the doctrine and the order of St. Thomas. 36 In his
bipartite treatment the first section, Ars Logica, includes treatises
on dialectical disputation and logical form as well as tracts on the
predicables, predicaments and logical instruments. The second
section, Philosophia Naturalis, is concerned with movable being in
general and local motion, alteration and augmentation (psychology) in particular. No ex professo consideration is given to natural
theology or ethics, since according to the custom of the time, these
matters belong to commentaries on the first and second parts of
the Sum11UJ, Theologica of St. Thomas. 87
Such a commentary on the Sum11UJ, Theologica began to absorb
the interest of John of St. Thomas soon after his philosophical work
had been completed. The material for his Oursus Theologicus was
accumulated during his twenty or more years of lecturing in
theology. It included, besides three prefatory tracts, all his expository theological disputations arranged according to the order of the
questions of the Sum11UJ, Theologica. The work of redacting the
manuscript from which he had dictated to his classes occupied a
considerable part of the last eight years of his life,88 but it was
never completed. The last disputation to benefit by his final corrections was his famous treatise on the Gifts of the Holy Ghost. 89
•• Echard, Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum, II, 589a and. 761b.
•• Breve tratado y muy importante, que por mandano de su Majesdad ea:cribio
el R. P. Fr. Juan de St. Tomas para saber hacer una confesion ganerol,
1644.
•• Practica y Conaideracion para ayudar a bien morir, 1645. Cf. Echard, op. cit.,
II, 589a.
•• Cf. Echard, op. cit., II, 588b.
87 Cf. Cur8U8 Philosophicus, ed. Reiser, Turin, 1980. p. xii.
"" Cf. Cursua Theologicus, ed. Sollemne, Paris, 1981. pp. ix and xviia.
•• Cf. Didacus Ramirez, loc. cit. The inscription given by John of St. Thomas
dates and locates the work. " Ad honorem Domini nostri Jesu Christi crucifixi,
Beatissimae Virginis ·B. Dominici et Thomae,
Aprilis 1644, cum essemus Caesaraugustae in expeditione Catalonica."

256

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

Throughout both his Cursus Philosophicus and his Cursus
Theologicus John of St. Thomas had but a single literary objective
-clarity. With the truth of his doctrine guaranteed by his faithful
adherence to the teaching of St. Thomas, he subordinated all
purely literary elements of his work to clarity of presentation. He
succeeded in presenting his thoughts clearly, 40 but at the same time
he sacrificed many of the elements of style which would have made
his work more readable. The solecisms and barbarisms which give
a certain harshness to his writings were not the result of ignorance
but a matter of deliberate choice. Under the Jesuit Fathers at
Coimbra, who were even then renowned for their teaching of the
humanities, John of St. Thomas studied the arts/ 1 and in many of
his prefaces he gave evidence of a graceful mastery of Latin. In his
disputations, however, and especially in those of the Cursus
Theologicus, he frequently allows the reciprocal affinity of words in
Latin construction to be carried away by the torrent of his thought.
His deliberate neglect of grammatical propriety and literary grace
would be a blameworthy burying of a talent if he did not have a
dominating purpose in view.
Desirous of simple clarity, he accommodated himself to the
manner of theological teaching then current in Spanish universities.
He chose to imitate the austere lucidity of Dominic Soto and
Dominic Banez rather than the more elaborate style which had
been fostered by Melchior Cano. 42 In making this choice he was
governed both by the Aristotelean Thomistic tradition 43 and by the
preferences of his auditors and readers. For his disciples were for
the most part that type of person-common to all ages 44-who
40 R. P. J. M. Ramirez, 0. P.
"clair et simple quique souvent diffus .... "
Dictionaire de Theologie catholique, Paris,
VIlla, p. 803.
41 Cf. Quetif, loc. cit.
•• Cf. Echard, op. cit., II, 176.
•• Aristotle: " The right thing in speaking really is that we should be satisfied
not to annoy our hearers, without trying to delight them: we ought in fairness to
fight our case with no help beyond the bare facts: nothing, therefore, should matter
except the proof of those facts." Rhetoric, ill, 1
tr. Roberts.
Boethius: " Adsit igitur Rhetoricae suedela dulcedinis quae tum tantum recto
calle procedit cum nostra (Ratio) instituta non ·deserit ... " De Consolatione
Philosophiae, II, 1, Migne, Patrologia Latina, LXIII, column 660.
St. Thomas: " ... ex quibusdam coniecturis ad suspicionem inducendam, vel
aliqualiter persuadendum; quod pertinet ad rhetoricam." Summa Theologica, 11-11,
q. 48, a. I.
•• St. Augustine mentions this type of person: " Sensi autem aliud genus hominum

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

257

distrusts truth when it is presented with elegance or eloquence.
They condoned rhetorical vices, but they condemned the slightest
deviation from truth. John of St. Thomas gave them discourses
freighted with meaning, yet he often allowed the vehicle of his expression to run upon serious obstacles. The structure of his
sentences was at times eliptical, anacoluthic and pleonastic. Barbarisms and -grammatical devices of his own invention were not
completely eliminated even from the amended texts. However,
despite this lack of attention to grammatical details, the literary
style of John St. Thomas remained vigorous and clear.
His use of illustration, comparison, repetition, and amplificationparalleled in English only by DeQuincey or Cardinal Newmangave his metaphysical language force and clarity. Even his apparent prolixity and inveterate habit of digression were natural
concomitants of his efforts to attain his primary objective of precision of intelligibility in the expression of truth. 45
Singleness of doctrinal and literary purpose has suffused the
whole body of his teaching with the light of eternal truth and
perennial charm. Throughout the three centuries since his death
his philosophical and theological disputations have been reprinted
many times, 46 and for all generations they have represented one of
the most profound penetrations and lucid expressions of Thomistic
thought.
Of his many disputations on Thomism none was more profound
in doctrine nor more eloquent of his holiness and apostolic activities
than his treatise on the Gifts of the Holy Ghost. At the very time
etiam veritatem habere suspectam, et ei nolle adquiescere si compto atque uberi
sermone promeretur." Confessionum Libri tredecim, Bk. V, c. 6. Migne, P. L.,

xxxn, no.

•• In the introduction of the first volume of his Cursus Philosophicus he states
his purpose: " . . . ut ad brevem et consciam methodum pro viribus Logicae et
Philosophiae disciplinam iuxta S. Thomae sensum redigeremus. Id circo non solum
visum est eius solidam sequi et imitari doctrinam, sed ordinem, brevitatem
modestiamque aemulari." ed. Reiser, Turin, 1930. However, in his preface to the
second volume, he seems constrained to quote St. Jerome: " Nemo cogitur Iegere
quod non vult. Ego potentibus scripsi, non fastidiosis, gratis non invidis, studiosis,
non oscitantibus."
(II Apol. ad Rufinum, c. 83. P. L., XXIT, 476) ed. Reiser,
Turin, 1930.
•• The philosophical disputations were reprinted, in whole or in part, sixteen
times between 1631 and 1930. The theological disputations were reprinted in
Madrid, 1645-1656; Cologne, 1658; Lyons, 1663; Cologile, 1771; Paris, 1883; Paris,
1931.

258

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

he was giving his mortal life to assist Philip IV and the Spanish
army at Catalonia, he dedicated to the whole world the final
bequest of his theological labor for orthodoxy and Thomism. While
in all his works, he gave thanks to the holy one and the Most High
in words of glory, his treatise on the Gifts of the Holy Ghost
remains as his spiritual bequest to all who in docility to the Holy
Ghost bear the burdens of others in fulfillment of the law of Christ.

B. THEOLOGICAL

INTRODUCTION.

Father, the hour has come! Glorify thy Son, that thy Son may glorify
thee, even as thou hast given him power over all flesh, in order that to all
thou hast given him, he may give everlasting life. Now this is everlasting
life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou
hast sent, Jesus Christ.47

The revelation of Jesus Christ is the revelation of our eternal
destiny, the clear announcement that God wills us to be happy
everlastingly with Him in heaven. The life and death of Christ
were ordered to opening the gates of heaven to all those who
believed in Him and followed Him in the way of the Cross to
eternal glory.
A little thought helps us to realize what this promised life in
heaven really means, although we shall never exhaust its profundities. "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then
face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I
have been known." 48 Our Divine Lord has revealed to us the overwhelming truth that God wishes His intellectual creatures to be
eternally happy in possessing the same good that makes Him
happy. We know that God is infinitely happy; but why is he
happy? If (and this is an impossible conjecture) God did not
know His own inexhaustible goodness and love that goodness, He
would not be happy. For happiness is the conscious possession of
a good, infinite happiness the conscious- possession of an infinite
good. A spiritual good can be possessed only by knowledge and
love; so Christ has promised us eternal happiness in the face-to-face
knowledge of the divine essence and the love that follows such
knowledge. Our knowledge and love of God in eternity will be a
participation in the knowledge and love that God has of Himself.
It is only through an up.derstanding of the life of heaven that we
•• John, xvii, 2-S.

•• I Corinthians, xiii, 12.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

can grasp the meaning of the life of grace here on earth. For grace
has always been considered in Christian tradition as " the seed of
glory." Now the seed can be understood only by the fruit it is
ordered to produce. Here we encounter another tremendous truth
of Christian revelation; everlasting life begins, not when we die and
enter the kingdom of heaven, but at the moment we receive sanctifying grace in our souls.. " Grace," says St. Thomas, " is nothing
but a beginning of eternal life in us." 49 And he is simply echoing
the words of Our Lord: " He who believes in me has eternal life." 50
The life of grace, the interior life of the Christian, is an imperfect
participation in the life of heaven, for it, too, is basically a life of
knowledge and love of God.
These two truths can be expressed graphically through an
analysis of the intimate life of God and the life of grace here and
hereafter.
Life of God
Divine Nature
Divine Intellect
Divine Will.
Divine Understanding
Divine Willing

Life of Grace
On Earth
In Heaven
Habitual Grace
Habitual Grace
Virtue of Faith and
the Gifts
Virtue of .Charity

Light of Glory and the
Gifts
Virtue of Charity

Act of Faith, perfected
by the Gifts
Act of Charity
(Beatitudes)

Beatific Vision
Act of Charity, beatific
love

The divisions given for the life of God are, of course, made for
our understanding; in God no such divisions exist. However, we
must conceive of the divine nature as the fundamental principle of
all the divine operations. The intellect and will are the proximate
principles, while the acts of the divine intellect and will are specified
by the divine essence. We learn from faith that in knowing and
loving Himself God the Father generates the Son and with the
Son breathes forth the Holy Ghost. And those eternal acts of
knowing and loving account also for creation and all the works
that God produces outside the divine essence.
Our participation in the divine life is not a transient, fleeting
thing, but permanent according to the intention of God. We must
'"Summa Theol., II-II, q. 24, a. 8, ad 211Hl.
Johtn, iii, 86.

260

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

then be permanently proportioned to the object that is to beatify
us, the divine essence as it is in itself. This is the reason why we
receive so many virtuous habits at Baptism. Habitual grace is the
fundamental reality of our supernatural life, for it is a formal
participation in the divine nature; it is in us the remote principle
of all our supernatural activities. Of itself, it does not operate immediately; for action we need proximate permanent principles,
which are principally the virtues of faith and charity.
A glance at the outline will show the close relation between the
life and grace onl earth and in heaven; habitual grace, charity, and
the Gifts of the Holy Ghost remain the same. The only change
takes place in our knowledge; for faith will pass and vision will take
its place. Progress in the spiritual life on earth is measured by the
progress of faith and charity, in the knowledge and love of God.
We have passed over a host of other virtues that also find place
in the supernatural life of man; but a:ll these other virtues are
ordered to the perfection of faith and charity, for the substance of
the spiritual life rests in them. The virtue of hope is needed to
keep us marching toward the goal presented by faith, desired by
charity; it allows us to look forward confidently to attaining the
goal of life not on our own merits but by the omnipotence of God.
The moral virtues, prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance,
with all their parts, are required to establish order in the manifold
activities of human living. Man is a complicated being; his perfection can be won only through a multiplicity of operations, which
are rectified by virtuous habits. The natural perfection of man
lies in the acquired moml virtues. His supernatural destiny makes
greater demands on his moral life than a natural destiny would;
in order to satisfy these demands he receives from the divine Mercy
a full complement of infused moral virtues together with the three
theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity.
Looked at from the viewpoint of God and of the infused virtues
themselves, man's supernatural life is solid and stable; looked at
from the viewpoint of weak human nature, the supernatural life is
held in a fragile vessel that can easily be destroyed by mortal sin.
For the infused virtues alone, despite their great perfection, are
proportioned by God to human ways of operating; it is human
reason enlightened by faith and infused prudence that is the guide
for our supernatural activity. As St. Thomas points out: "Human
reason is perfected by God in two ways: first, by a natural perfec-

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

261

tion, according to the natural light of reason; secondly, by a certain
supernatural perfection through the theological virtues. Now while
this second perfection is greater than the first, the first is more
perfectly possessed by man than the second; for of the first man has
full possession, of the second, an imperfect possession, as it were,
for we know and love God imperfectly." 51
We have seen that the aim of the interior life on earth and of the
life of glory in heaven is the possession of God through knowledge
and love; certainly there is only One Who knows how to attain such
an end, Who knows at each moment what choices will lead to God
or from God, Who knows all the pathways to the goal, all the
obstacles that can be encountered on the way. Only God Himself
(by appropriation, the Holy Ghost, to whom our sanctification is
attributed) can be the infallible guide to heaven. The gifts of the
Holy Ghost are placed in the soul of the Christian in order to dispose him to receive the immediate direction of the Holy Ghost.
Our souls, like training planes, have two sets of controls: one,
human reason, illuminated by the virtues of faith and prudence,
which is our own set of controls; the other, the gifts of the Holy
Ghost, which are for His use alone. The purpose of these two sets
is different from that of the controls in the plane. True the Holy
Ghost, like the flight instructor, is ever ready to assist us in an
emergency, when our spiritual life is :in danger of being wrecked.
Nevertheless, the purpose of the gifts is not simply an emergency
control, for the spiritual life can never become an easy thing for us
to handle. Progress in the spiritual life implies a taking over of the
controls by the Holy Ghost. Human pride does not welcome the
idea that we cannot advance very far in the supernatural order under
our own control; yet if we desire to live supernaturally we must
allow the Holy Ghost to lead the way. If we insist, consciously or
unconsciously, on our own initiative, we are doomed to spiritual
mediocrity. With sufficient instruction we can learn to fly a plane;
no amount of instruction is sufficient for man to learn perfectly
the ways of living in God.
We should note the final sentence in the above quotation from
St. Thomas; and especially the reason he assigns: "for we know and
love God imperfectly." That reason is always valid while we are
separated from God by the veil of faith. Love is not imperfect in
51

Summa Theol., I-II, q. 68, a. 2.

8

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

itself; that is why it will remain unchanged in heaven. It is imperfect here below because of the imperfection of faith. Love is
always dissatisfied with the limitations of human knowledge, even
when enlightened by faith. The essential drama of the interior life
is played between love and knowledge, love always seeks more
knowledge, not for the sake Jf knowledge, but because of the object
loved. And as knowledge increases love increases and requires more
knowledge.
The gifts of the Holy Ghost are especially ordered to overcome
the inadequacy of knowledge. Of the seven gifts four are intellectual and perfect the virtue of faith: the gift of Understanding
gives faith a greater penetration of its own principles, the revealed
truths of tradition and Scripture; counsel perfects faith in its
practiCal extension to the multiplicity of human actions directed to
the final end; it guides immediately the activity of the three
affective gifts of Piety, Fortitude and Fear of the Lord; the gifts
of Knowledge and Wisdom perfect faith in its act of judgment,
whether the judgment is concerned with creatures or with God
Himself. How successful love is in its search for knowledge with the
aid of the gifts of the Holy Ghost cannot be adequately indicated
here. The evidence of success can be found in the lives of the great
mystical saints; they knew God through the veil of faith, but so
thin had become the veil that it was as though they saw God. Such
for example was the faith of Moses, according to the testimony of
St. Paul: "By faith he (Moses) left Egypt, not fearing the fierceness of the king: for he endured as seeing him that is invisible." 52
Further clarification of all these points will be found in the text
of John of St. Thomas; there is no need to delay further on them.
However, something should be added about the Fruits of the Holy
Ghost and the Beatitudes. St. Thomas links these very closely with
the gifts; John of St. Thomas refers to them briefly at the end of
his treatise; with the remark that the text of St. Thomas needs no
commentary. Nevertheless, in order to provide the reader with a
complete notion of St. Thomas' treatment, a few pages will be
added about his doctrine on these two scriptural points-the fruits
and the beatitudes.
St. Thomas' consideration of the beatitudes and fruits of the
Holy Ghost is contained in the two questions in the Summa
•• Hebrews, xi, 27.

THE GIFTS

OF THE HOLY GHOST

263

Theologica following the one on the gifts. In these two questions
he gives us some profound insights into the spiritual life, since for
him the fruits and the beatitudes are a consequence of the Holy
Ghost's influence in human life. His treatment of them is not
psychological, but theological and scriptural; in fact, the two questions are theological commentaries on two passages of Sacred
Scripture. The first passage is in the gospel of St. Matthew, the
familiar section of the Sermon on the Mount known as the beatitudes. The second passage is in the epistle of St. Paul to the
Galatians: 53 "But the fruit of the Spirit is, charity, joy, peace,
patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity, mildness, faith, modesty,
continency, chastity."
On these two texts St. Thomas erects his framework of the
spiritual life. For purposes of this introduction, a reversal of the
order of
Thomas will be made, for, as he himself says, all the
beatitudes are fruits, but not all the fruits are beatitudes.
The metaphor of the Pauline phrase " fruit of the Spirit" is
readily understandable. Our Lord said: "For by the fruit the tree
is known." 54 The tree of human life is also known by its fruit:
human action, good or evil. Now not everything that a tree produces is called fruit; only what has a certain perfection and contains
a certain sweetness in itself should be called a fruit. In fact, there is
only one fruit of the tree of human living-eternal beatitude, which
is the ultimate perfection of man and contains in itself all sweetness. In this sense, heaven is the only fruit of the Spirit. This fruit
is not produced by human action but is reached by it as a reward
of merit. On the other hand, the fruit of the Spirit spoken of by St.
Paul is the product of human action under the influence of the
Spirit. For just as a portrait is referred to as the fruit of artistic
action, a science, as the fruit of rational action, so a virtuous life is
as the fruit of the Spirit.
The fruit, or more commonly speaking, the fruits of the Holy
Ghost are actions that flow from the supernatural virtues planted
in the soul by the Holy Ghost; they do not possess the fullness or
maturity of the beatitudes, for they do not come from the special
inspirations of the gifts, but from the ordinary motions of divine
grace. Not every good action is a fruit, for many such actions,
especially in the early stages of the spiritual life, are produced with
•• V, 22-23.

•• Matthew, xii, 33.

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

difficulty and at great cost. When the soul delights in virtuous
actions it is enjoying the fruits of its earlier sacrifices-it has its
first assurance that it is sharing in the fruitful life of God.
The enumeration of the fruits by St. Paul might seem a haphazard arrangement; St. Thomas finds a definite order in it, for it
manifests the aims of the Holy Ghost's activities in the soul. The
Holy Ghost, through grace, orders human action-in relation to
man himself, in relation to his neighbors, and, lastly, in relation to
those things that are below him.
A man is rightly disposed within his own person when he has the
right attitude towards good and evil. The fundamental disposition
toward the good is love or charity, which is the first fruit of the
Holy Ghost, the Spirit of love. From union with the good springs
joy; he who has charity has the supreme good, God, and has joy in
that possession. Peace is the perfection of charity and joy; it requires two additional elements besides simple charity and joy. No
one can completely rejoice in the possession of a good unless he is
in undisturbed possession of it and thoroughly satisfied by it alone.
When the soul has overcome its
to created goods and
finds satisfaction in God alone, it is rightly disposed toward the
supreme good and is at peace. Yet, under the threat of evil, the
well-ordered mind is patient and it is longsufjering of the evil implied in the deferment of a desired good.
The relations of a man to his neighbor are right when, first of all,
he both wills good and does good to the neighbor; these are signified
by the goodness and benignity of St. Paul's enumeration. Secondly,
a man has the right a.ttitude toward evil, when with meekness he
bears any evil that his neighbor may do him; and, lastly, when in
faith, or fidelity, he refrains from injuring his neighbor by fraud or
guile.
The things that are inferior to man are his exterior actions and
his interior passions. These are rectified by the motion of the Holy
Ghost and bear fruit in modesty, continency and chastity.
St. Thomas admits that more or fewer fruits might be enumerated; he adds, however, that to these twelve all others can be
reduced and that they do present a comprehensive view of the
spiritual life. Nevertheless, St. Thomas seems to be more satisfied
with the beatitudes as a frame for his spiritual doctrine, for his
commentary on them is fuller and richer. The beatitudes are fruits
of virtue brought to a riper maturity under the rays of the gifts.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

In order for the reader to follow St. Thomas' exposition intelligently, several preliminary remarks must be made. First, just as
ultimately there is only one fruit, so there is only one ultimate
beatitude, the vision of God, wherein all the beatitudes mentioned
by Our Lord find their perfection. Yet he who has the firm hope
of attaining happiness is already happy to a certain degree. So the
man who, by the perfection of his virtuous actions, has a solid basis
for hope of eternal life is already blessed. The beatitudes, then, are
actions that imitate the beatifying actions of heaven, the knowing
and loving God. They are, of course, conditioned by the fact that
life on earth has not the perfection of the life in heaven, that many
obstacles to a full participation in happiness are found for sojourners in this world.
The second remark concerns the significance St. Thomas finds in
the form of the beatitudes as they were delivered by Our Lord.
Each contains two parts: the first part, except in the sixth and
seventh, mentions a meritorious action; the second part promises a
fitting reward. In his exposition of each beatitude St. Thomas
explains the meritorious action, points out the virtue and gift that
elicit it, mentions, in some cases, the obstacles that the action must
overcome, and manifests the fittingness of the reward promised by
Our Savior.
Lastly, as a foundation for his explanation of the beatitudes, St.
Thomas presents a resume of his doctrine on happiness. According
to the opinion of men, he says, happiness is to be found in a life of
pleasure, a life of action, or a life of contemplation. In the light of
divine revelation, the Christian knows that the life of pleasure is
contrary to true happiness; the life of action should be a preparation for true happiness, which really lies in the contemplation of
God, perfectly in the next life, imperfectly and participatively in
this life. The eight beatitudes are ordered in such a way as to
remove the obstacles of a life of pleasure, foster the active life as a
preparation for contemplation, and develop those virtues that
bring about immediately the contemplative life.

I. The Life of Pleasure.
The life of pleasure consists in two things-an affluence of external goods, especially wealth, honor, power, and an indulgence of
the passions both of the irascible and of the concupiscible appetites.

266

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

The objects that cater to man's pleasure are not evil in themselves; rather they are so good for the senses that they are easily
chosen in preference to greater goods. There can be no true happiness unless the urge for temporal pleasures is moderated by the
virtues; great happiness can be had only by those who, under the
inspiration of the Gifts, despite the allurements of these pleasures.
It follows, then, that the desires for wealth, power and honor
must be moderated, especially by the virtue of humility, which
strikes at the root of these desires, our own self-esteem; by the
inspiration of the gift of the Fear of the Lord one is led to despise
these goods for the excellence and abundance of goodness one finds
in God. Blessed are< the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven.
Wealth, power, honor are fragile goods of which one is easily
despoiled; yet many men place their security in them. To feel
secure, they must cling to these goods, fight to retain them. AU
the force of the irascible appetite is aroused for the protection of
these frail treasures. The virtue of fortitude moderates the impulses of the irascible passions; the gift of fortitude leaves man
utterly tranquil under the providence of God and indifferent to the
presence or absence of the external goods of fortune. Blessed are
the meek, for they shall possess the land; according to the Angelic
Doctor, it is not a question of the land of this world, but of the
heavenly kingdom, a secure possession of God, here and hereafter.
The pleasures of sense, which are the object of the concupiscible
passions, are sought by men as consolations for the trials of life.
Temperance is the virtue that moderates the use of sensual
pleasures; the gifts of knowledge and fear inspire the soul to a total
sacrifice of such pleasures, when necessary for the good of one's
own soul or of one's neighbor, and the voluntary acceptance of pain
and sorrow with the crucified Christ. Blessed are they that mourn,
for they shall be comforted, with the consolation of God's blessings.
In these three beatitudes the affective gifts are predominant;
however, while St. Thomas assigns the intellectual gift of knowledge to the beatitude of the mournful, he says that the inspirations
of knowledge and counsel are directive of the gifts of fear and fortitude in bringing the soul to this first degree of happiness.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

267

II. The Life of Action.
The fourth and fifth beatitudes are concerned with the active
life, which, in this context, involves the relations of one man with
another. Such relations are regulated either by justice or by gratuitousness. The obstacles to man's dealing justly or gratuitously with
his neighbor are his inordinate desire to possess temporal goods and
his unwillingness to associate with the needy or the miserable lest
such association diminish his own poor store of happiness.
Whatever is due to another is regulated by the virtue of justice;
under the inspiration of the gift of piety, man conceives an insatiable desire to fulfill all the works of justice. Blessed are they that
hunger and thirst after justice, for they shall have their fill. He
who even deprives himself in order to satisfy the demands of justice
need have no fear, for God will reward him fully, "a full measure,
pressed down and flowing over."
The virtue of liberality inclines a man to give his friends more
than justice demands. The gifts of piety and counsel push him to
seek out and alleviate all necessity and all misery wherever he can
discover it. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
He who has compassion for the misery of others will soon discover
that God has generously relieved him of all misery.

III. The Life of Contemplation.
Since the contemplative life is not a merit, but a reward, St.
Thomas' explanation of the sixth and seventh beatitudes is slightly
different from the preceding. He mai.ntains that in place of meritorious actions Our Lord mentions effects of the active life that immediately dispose to contemplation; and here he understands
" active life " as embracing all the preceding beatitudes or the whole
moral perfection of man. For the first three beatitudes perfect man
in himself, subdue his rebellious passions and leave him purified and
clean of heart. Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.
An analogy exists between the clear eye that has perfect vision and
the clean mind that alone is capable of seeing God, whether with
the darkened sight of faith or the bright vision of heaven. The
virtue of faith and the gift of understanding give the final touches
to the purification of the human mind that was begun by the
previous activity of the moral virtues and the gifts.

268

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

The fourth and fifth beatitudes set a man right in his relations to
his fellow man; the unity begun by these beatitudes is perfected by
the virtue of charity and the gift of wisdom. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God. A child imitates
his father to the best of his ability and Our Father is a " God of
unity and peace."
St. Thomas has established a correspondence between the seven
gifts of the Holy Ghost and the first seven beatitudes. But there
are eight beatitudes. The eighth, says the Angelic Doctor, is a confirmation and manifestation of all the others. Blessed are they that
suffer persecution for justice's sake, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven. At first, this might seem like a poor. explanation; yet
there is a sign of its appropriateness in the fact that the greatest
mystic saints and the greatest apostolic souls, the outstanding representatives of the contemplative and active lives, have eagerly
desired martyrdom and have always suffered persecution.
In the answer to the last objection in the last article of the
beatitudes, St. Thomas casts a quick glance over all of the beatitudes and manifests the progressive unification of the rewards
promised by Our Lord.
The rewards are also arranged in ascending order. For it is more to
possess the land of the heavenly kingdom than simply to have it: since we
have many things without possessing them firmly and peacefully. Again,
it is more to be comforted in the kingdom than to have and possess it, for
there are many things the possession of which is accompanied by sorrow.
Again, it is more to have one's fill than simply to be comforted, because
fullness implied abundance of comfort. And mercy surpases satiety, for
thereby man receives more than he merited or was able to desire. And yet
more is it to see God, even as he is a greater man who not only dines at
court, but also sees the king's countenance. Lastly, the highest place in
the royal palace belongs to the king's son. 55

"" Summa Theol., I-II, q. 69, a. 4, ad Sum.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

269

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST
I. IN GENERAL
A. The Treatment of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost in Sacred
Scripture (Chapter I)
B. The Distinction between the Gifts and the Virtues
(Chapte'r IT)
II. IN PARTICULAR
A. The Gift of Understanding (Chapter Ill)
B. The Gifts of Wisdom and Knowledge (Chapter IV)
C. The Gift of Counsel (Chapter V)
D. The Gifts of Piety, Fortitude and Fear (Chapter VI)
Ill. IN THEm ATTRmUTEs
A. The Number of the Gifts (Chapter VIT)
B. The Properties of the Gifts (Chapter VITI)
C. The Acts and Effects of the Gifts (Chapter IX)

270

JOHN OF ST, THOMAS

CHAPTER I*
THE TREATMENT

oF THE GIFTS oF THE

HoLY GHosT

IN SACRED SCRIPTURE

1. The gifts of the Holy Ghost are not within the ken of
natural philosophers and pagans. Divine Revelation alone can
give evidence of them, and Sacred Scripture, enumerating seven,
treats of them under the titles of gifts and spirits. Some explanation, then, of the Scriptural teaching concerning these special gifts
is prerequisite to a clear scholastic treatment.

2. All the divinely inspired words of Scripture both enlighten
and incline toward the formation of a spiritual man, perfect in the
OUTLINE OF CHAPTER I:

I.

REVELATION

AND THE GIFTS

A. Revelation, the Source of Knowledge of the Gifts (1)
B. Revelation and the Spiritual Man (2)
1. The Gifts and Spiritual Progress (3)
2. The Contact between the Holy Ghost and the Spiritual Man as
described by Our Lord (4)
a) The First Condition-interior disposition (5)
b) The Second Element--exterior communication (6)
c) The Third Element-the hidden motion of God (7)
3. The Exhortation of Isaias to Pusillanimous Souls (8)

II.

THE REASON

FOR THE

GIFTS

BEING

CALLED

Spirits

AND

Gifts

IN SACRED

ScRIPTURE

A. The Texts Relative to Each Title (9)
B. The Suitableness of the Name Gift (10)
l. The Gifts of love to overcome the twofold defect of virtue: on the
part of the person and of the virtue itself (11)
2. The Virtue of Faith and the Gifts in Contemplation (12)
a) The heavens " opened " only through the Gifts of the Holy
Ghost (13)
b) Luminous contemplation through the Gifts {14)
C. The Suitableness of the Name Spirit
L The Inspiration of the Holy Ghost (15)
2. The Spirituality or Heavenly Quality of the Gifts (16)
8. The Breath of God through the Kiss of His Mouth (17)
a) The Gifts in the Founding of the Church (18)
b) The Gifts in the Life of the Church (19)

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

way of God, since, as the Apostle wrote to Timothy, All Scripture
is inspired by God and useful for teaching, for reproving, for correcting, for instructing in justice, that the man of God may be
perfect, equipped for every good work. 1 With even greater reason,
then, this spiritual· state, a subtle motion and anointing of the
Spirit, in which He raises the heart on high by intimately pouring
forth His own self-The Spirit Himself raises and assumes man as
the hand of God strengthening 2-should be distinctly understood
from the very synthesis of texts and doctrinal teaching of the Bible.
In its serenity and light as the light of the morning, when the sun
rises, without clouds, 3 and by its rays, advancement is made in the
splendor of charity. The mind is stimulated to drive out the
allurements of the flesh and to cast off the works of darkness. This
advancement is given by the illumination of the Holy Ghost, as by
a master's instruction, according to the Prophet Isaias, he wakens in
the mornnig, in the morning he wakens my ear, that I may hear
him as a master, 4 and according to St. John, His anointing teaches
you concerning all things, and it is true and is no lie . ...
3. Only one who experiences and tastes that the Lord is sweet
can know the secrets of His whispering and the exaltation of His
sublime breathing upon the heart, since no one knows the hidden
manna and the new name written on a white pebble except him
who receives it. 6 This white pebble is the live coal which, as
Isaias recorded/ one of the Seraphim had taken from the altar with
tongs and held in his hand as he flew. By its enkindling and inflaming the soul, the lips of the .prophet are purged--the beginning
of the spiritual life, the purgative way. Moreover, even when the
prophet has progressed to the illuminative way, merely by the
common, manner and pattern of virtues, he is still prevented from
writing the new name. For the new name is in reality a new regulative principle and obligation-" name " often designates an obligation or office. The regulation and direction of the prophet's mind
in a merely human manner according to ordinary prudence is not
1 II Timothy, iii, 16.
(In the New Testament text exclusive use of either the
Challoner-Rheims or the Confraternity edition has not been found advisable.
Trans.)
• I John, ii, 27.
• Ezechiel, iii, 14.
6 Apocalypse, ii, 17.
• II Kings, xxiii, 4.
• Isaias, vi, 6.
• Isaias,
4.

272

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

sufficient for him to receive the new name. He receives it only
when he is directed by the finger of God and the excellence of
divine motion. The exact discernment of these things by experience is communicated to only a few, who have a certain connaturality to divine things. For others, any inquiry into these
truths must be carried on with great difficulty, by labor and the
contentious struggle of controversy.
4. As Cajetan has acutely observed, it was for this reason that
Christ Our Lord described the action of the Spirit and the spiritual
man in these words, The Spirit breathes where he will; and you
hear his voice, but you do not know whence he comes and whither
he goes; so is every one that is born of the Spirit. 8 The relationship
of the Spirit and of the spiritual man, who is formed through the
Gifts of the Holy Ghost, can be explained in no better way than by
this comparison indicated by Ou:r Lord, Who is truth itself. In His
words three elements in a spiritual man are described. The first
pertains to the interior dispositions. It is found in the phrase, The
Spirit breathes where He will. The second refers to the exterior
communication, and you hear his voice. The third is related to the
hidden motion of God, that impulse which cannot be grasped with
complete certainty. It is expressed in the words: And you do not
know whence he comes and whither he goes.
5. The first condition for discerning spiritual men is explained as
his interior disposition through the Gifts of the Holy Ghost. They
make a man feel exceedingly free, voluntary and unimpeded in
his operations. They remove confusion, impediments and restrictions, since where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. 9 For each
man is constrained by the bonds of sin. He stumbles upon the
shackles of his. own soul. The first thing that the Spirit does upon
entering a heart is to break the bonds of sin, with which man is
tied, and to crush the iron covering of his hardened heart. A man
then feels as though he were relieved of a great weight and ready
for action. Indeed, like a dove, he takes wing and flies, and :rests
in solitude. Truly there is no rest for the heart which has not flown
to God. The Seraphim, for example, stand still and fly at the same
time.
Now, lest anyone should err by thinking that those born of the
8 John, iii, 8. Cf. 'Cajetan, Commemtaria in Joannem.
• Cf. II Corinthians, iii,.'17.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

278

Spirit are agitated by a frantic impulse, like those possessed by an
evil spirit, the Lord requires as the very first step in the way of the
Spirit that birth from the Spirit contribute to man's freedom of
choice rather than take it away. For there would be a great loss
in merit if the Spirit determined the will and worked in it by
violence rather than by breathing and actuating its inclination.
For this reason the Apostle wrote that the spirits of the prophets
are under the control of the prophets. 10 This is interpreted by St.
Tho-mas to mean that as far as the use of the power of announcing
prophesies is concerned the spirits are subject to the will of the
prophet and are not like delirious ravings.
The Gifts of the Holy Ghost, therefore, are given to the soul
after the manner of habits, so that in a rational and voluntary way
the soul may be moved to those works to which it is directed by the
Spirit. Thus, those who are conducted by the Spirit are moved not
as slaves but as free men, willingly and voluntarily, since the principles which move them, though derived from the Spirit, are inherent
in their very souls. They are impelled to operations which by their
character and measure exceed all ordinary human standards. Hence,
the interior disposition of a spiritual man is such that he is free and
voluntary in the way of the Spirit. Those who do not feel themselves unimpeded in the things of the Spirit, and in the abnegation
of comforts and delights, but easily fall back into them, give evidence of not being motivated nor strongly inspired by the Holy
Ghost according to His Gifts.
6. The second condition required for the spiritual state is noted
in the words: And you hear His voice. By them, as Cajetan
remarks, Our Lord indicates that whoever is born of the Spirit or
moved by the Spirit, speaks by the Spirit, for from the abundance
of the heart the mouth speaks. In anyone who is born of the Spirit,
all sensible and exterior actions, and especially his conversations, are
from the Spirit. They are fragrant with the Spirit, for scarcely anything other than God or the ordination of things to God is mentioned. From this it is manifest that exterior deportment-,-the
control of the external senses, especially speech-is frequently indicative of a spiritual man. If any one does not offend in word, he is
a perfect man, able also to lead round by a bridle the whole body P
10

I Corinthians, xiv, S!il.

11 ]

ames, iii, !!.

274

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

Mortification of the tongue, moderation in speech, especially if this
be confined to divine things and matters pertaining to the Spirit,
is a great sign of the interior direction of the Spirit. Moreover,
anyone who turns freely to pleasantries and vanities, either to hear
or speak them, is still imperfect in the Spirit.
7. The third constituent is indicated in the words: and you do
not know whence he comes nor whither he goes. This describes the
profundity of the interior motion and direction of the Spirit. For
the soul does not know the origin of the motion, its procedure, nor
its end. The Spirit, on the other hand, knows thoroughly the inmost thoughts and secrets of the soul. For the Spirit searches all
things, even the deep things of GodY' Thus, as Cajetan remarks,
although the exterior expressions and works of a spiritual man may
be observed, the sources from which they spring and the divine end
to which they tend cannot be known. No disturbance therefore,
should arise from the fact that it is not known whose spirit is
present in these works, especially in difficult and extraordinary
works. For even if the Spirit should frequently move the soul
interiorly and arouse and urge it, whence this motion comes and
whither it is going, its beginning and end, cannot be known on
every occasion. The Spirit of God lies hidden. Many who wish to
proceed in all things with excessive caution and certitude are often
deterred from these motions of the Holy Ghost by their own narrowness of heart. They are not fit to be moved to great or difficult
things unless their hearts are free and they have confidence in the
interior assistance of God.
8. To timid souls who are crushed by pusillanimity of spirit and
misfortune, and who fear and doubt, the prophet Isaias cried out,
Why sayest thou, 0 Jacob, and speakest, 0 Israel: My way is hid
from the Lord, anfl rny judgment is passed over from my God? 13
Troubled in heart by the uncertainty of their way of life, they
thought their way was hidden from God, because they do not know
whence it comes or whither it leads. Yet even then they were being
moved by God to find freedom in His magnitude and not to cringe
in their own pusillanimity: Knowest thou not, or hast thou not
heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, who hath created the
ends of the earth: he shall not faint, nor labor, neither is there any
12

1 Corinthians, ii, 10.

13

Isaias, xl, f/.7.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

275

searching owt of his wisdo1f1:. It is he that gives strength to the
weary, and increases force and might to those who are not. Youths
shall faint and labor, and young men shall fall by infirmity (being
less fit. For they are youths in their heart and are weak in sustaining the way of the Spirit). But those who hope in the Lord
(for in Him the heart is freed by confidence) shall renew their
strength, they shall take wings as eagles (not as men, functioning in
a merely human way, but as eagles, elevated by the Gifts of the
Holy Ghost) they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and
not faint. 14 Not without reason, then, the wings of an eagle are
promised, even though it is not mentioned that men will fly, but
they will run and walk as men still living upon this earth. For
although these men are impelled and moved by the wings of an
eagle, which comes down from above, yet the Gifts of the Holy
Spirit are put into practice upon this earth, and they have their
place in ordinary actions. Moreover those who are moved and regulated by a communication of superior spirits and gifts are led by
the wings of ari eagle and they differ in many ways from those who
merely practise ordinary virtues. The latter are regulated by their
own zeal and industry. With toil, they walk upon their own feet
unaided. But those who are moved by the wings of an eagle are
swept along in the breath of a strong wind. Without labor, they run
in the way of God.
Why the Gifts are called spirits and
gifts in Sacred Scripture
9. In the Scripture these Gifts are called both by the name spirit
and by the name gifts. An example of the use of the name spirit
is found in Isaias: And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him,
the spirit of wisdom, and of understanding, the spirit of counsel,
and of fortitude, the spirit of knowledge and of godliness. And he
shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord. 15 The name
gift is used in the sixty-seventh Psalm: Thou hast ascended on high,
thou hast led captivity captive; thou hast received gifts in men. 16
St. Paul, when he was writing to the Ephesians, referred this passage
to grace as given according to the measure of Christ's bestowal:
Ascending on high, he led captivity captive; he gave gifts to menP
10
10

Isaias, xi,
Isaias, xi,

10

S.

11

Psalm lxvii, 19.
Ephesians, iv, 8.

276

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

For although this passage may be interpreted as applying to all
supernatural gifts, whether virtues or other habits, or actual helps,
through antonomasia it is applied especially to the Gifts of the Holy
Ghost, which Christ showered so fully upon His Church after His
ascension. Note the words: thou hast received gifts in men. These
describe most accurately the Gifts of the Holy Ghost. God so gives
and distributes His gifts to men that through them men are made
subject to Him and rendered easily movable by His Spirit. Ordinarily men receive gifts from God; by these special gifts, God gains
men for Himself. By them men are led captive and made subject
to· Him. Receiving back His gifts, God accomplishes His works
with profit and usury. Hence the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, divine
favors in which men are gained by God, are more receptive of
divine impulse than self moving.
10. The ·name of spirit and the name of gift are especially suitable to these most perfect gifts. First of all, these two names are
most becoming to the Holy Ghost. He Himself is a spirit, for He
proceeds as the breath of Love and as an intense impulse. He is also
a Gift, since a will or love is communicative of itself. For a lover's
first gift is his own heart, and when this gift is received and deeply
appreciated by his beloved, it joins the two by an intense inner
bond. David expressed this, If you are come peaceably to me to
help me, let my heart be joined to you. 18 Those pledges or gifts,
therefore, by which the Spirit in a special way joins His heart to
human hearts by uniting them to Him and making them movable
by Him, are called spirits, since they proceed from the intensity of
His dynamic love. They are called gifts, because through them He
gives Himself to men and dwells in them.
11. As St. Thomas notes in his commentary on the eleventh
chapter of Isaias, these Gifts are given for the perfecting of the
virtues. This consideration casts more light on how these Gifts
proceed in a special way from love, and from the spirit of the heart
of God. It likewise makes clear how they become perfect and enkindle the fire of love. The Holy Doctor discerns a twofold defect
in virtue, one on the part of the one having the virtue, the other,
on the part of the virtue itself. As regards the one having the
virtue, the defect is not essentiaL It arises from his indisposition
18

I Paralipomenon, :xii, 17.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

277

and imperfect participation in the habit. This defect is removed
through an intensification or growth of the virtue. In. the virtue
itself, however, the defect is intrinsic, since such a habit has an. imperfection annexed to it. Faith, for example, is of its very nature
imperfect, inscrutable and obscure. The eyes remain enshrouded in.
darkness; according to Solomon, The Lord promised that he would
dwell in a cloud, 19 that is in Faith, St. Paul prayed that Christ may
dwell by Faith in your hearts. 20 This defect is removed by a further
perfection, which is called a Gift, because it exceeds the ordinary
manner of human operation. In this case it is the Gift of Understanding. This Gift enables the inteHect to penetrate more clearly
the suitability and credibility of the things of Faith. It enables the
intellect to discern the things of Faith both from error and from
things of sense.
12. These Gifts adorn and gild the virtues, making them more
resplendent. This adornment comes about by extending the virtues
to things which through themselves they could not attain. Solitary
and naked Faith, for example, leaves the soul in obscurity. Because
of this obscurity, men grow tired when they proceed by Faith
alone in the ordinary way of meditation, and they do not persevere
for long. Those contemplatives who desire to penetrate the mysteries of Faith need to use the Gift of Understanding. Those, however, who are not proficient in Understanding, but, nevertheless,
lay claim to reasoning and contemplatidn by naked Faith, know
little about contemplation. They wander or sleep in their meditations and are extremely tired, since Faith alone is not contemplation
but only assent. To such souls the things of heaven seem to be shut
rather than open-the eye of Jacob in a land of corn and wine, and
the heavens shall be misty with dew. 21 While the eye is in the land
of the Church militant, which is properly the land of corn and wine,
that is the sacramental corn and nascent wine, the heavens shall be
misty with dew, since they are hidden by the shroud of faith.
Hence, while the heights are sprinkled with dew which blinds the
soul, there can be no perfect contemplation in Faith alone.
13. The heavens must at times be opened, therefore, so that the
soul will not fail in its contemplation. The Holy Ghost accomplishes
this through the Gifts of Understanding, of Wisdom, and of
10

ll Paralipomenon, vi, I.

9

20

Ephesians, iii, 17.

Deuteronomy, xxxiii, 28.

278

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

Knowledge. There was a sign of this at the baptism of Christ: and
i1nmediately he ca1ne up fro?n the water. And behold the heavens
were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove
and co1ning upon him:}i2 Purified by baptism, the soul receives the
Faith. Moreover, it receives as a gift from the Spirit a kind of
understanding of heavenly things-an opening of the heavens no
longer clouded with dew. The more the soul increases in Understanding, the wider is the aperture in the het.vens for the soul to
behold the glory of God. The most marked evidence, then, of the
opening of the heavens and of the Gift of the Rely Ghost is joy
and a partial understanding of the glory of God. For this reason it
is said of St. Stephen, he being full of the Holy Ghost looked up to
hea-ven and saw the glory of God . . . and said, Behold I see the
heavens open! 23 Notice what strides the soul takes in the abundance
and plenitude of the Spirit. For when it is filled with these Gifts,
the heavens are torn asunder and the soul sees the glory of God.
It no longer dwells in the obscurity of Faith but it now explores and
contemplates the magnitude of God. Of this St. Bernard wrote:
" The information that the Spouse is fast approaching will be for me
a salutary exhortation and preparation for the worthy reception of
the supernatural visitation. For justice walks before him; 24 wrote
the prophet, and he added, Justice and judgment are the preparation of thy throne." 25 26 The saint then adds: "If you now feel
that burning eloquence and it sears your conscience into a recollection of sin, remember what the Scripture says: Fire shall co1ne
before him; 27 and you cannot doubt that he is close. Furthermore,
if you not only feel compunction, but totally turn to God as well,
vowing and determining to guard the judgments of His justice, then
you will know that He is already present, especially if you feel enkindled by His love." 28
14. It is necessary, therefore, for the soul to cast off the shroud
of unadorned Faith and to leap up to run with God. Through the
"" Mattkcw, iii. 16.
•• Acts, vii, 55.
94 Psalm lxxxiv, 14.
""Psalm lxxxviii, 15.
•• it. Bernard, Sermon 57 on the Canticle of Canticles; Migne, Patrolagia Latina,
CLX:X:Xffi, 1052c.
•• Psalm xcvi, S.
•a St. :Bernard, lac. cit., MPL, CLXXXIII, 1053.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

279

illumination of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, the soul enjoys a
multitude of spiritual feeling and a variegated understanding of
divine things. For the mind is clad in robes of many colors when
garbed with the glittering clothing of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost.
Faith, however, cannot, in this life, be illuminated or attain to the
vision of its object. It is founded upon the testimony of authority,
and it cannot extend beyond that testimony, the specific object of
Faith, to vision.
Held captive by the bonds of Faith, the soul remains in darkness. The flame of Love, however, can benefit the soul in this
regard, for love makes things clear. From love proceed the Gifts of
Understanding, of Wisdom, and of Knowledge. They break
through the mist of Faith, thereby opening the heavens. These
Gifts, therefore, are attributed in a special way to love or to the
Spirit (Who is Love) .. Hence St. Ambrose in his commentary on
the words, The fruit of the spirit is peace 29 remarks: " They are
called fruits because they refresh minds with genuine delight," 30
and in the Book on Paradise, cited by St. Thomas, he observes:
" The works of virtue are called fruits because those who possess
them are refreshed with a holy and genuine delight." 31 Inflamed
by love, the intellect rises from the obscure knowledge of Faith to
the luminous and clear contemplation of the magnitude and certitude of the mysteries, and the brightness of a flaming fire in the
night. 32 This night is the veil of creatures enshrouding and hiding
the majesty of His eternity, for over all the glory shall be a protection.33 Among the noctur11al shadows of this life the mind becomes aware of that lamp burning in the darkness. The intellect is
perfected by a loving heart since its objects are seen better under
the light of love. St. Bernard describes this beautifully. 34 "Fire,"
he says, " goes forth before Him, and yet He Himself is the fire."
With this difference, however, the fire which precedes brings pain
but does not torment, nor does it vex. It moves, but it does not
accomplish the work. It is sent in advance only to arouse, to
Galatiam, v, U.
St. Ambrose in Galatians, v, 22, MPL, XVll, 868. Cf. Cornelius a Lapide in
hoc loco, ed. Vives, XVLII, 568.
8.1 Ibid. De Paradiso, cap. 18. MPL, XIV, 806, 807. Cf. I-II, q. 70, a. 1, ad 2.
•• Isaias, iv, 5.
28

80

""Ibid.
•• Loc. cit., MPL, CLXXXID, 1058.

280

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

prepare and to recall to mind what the soul is by itself so that it
may appreciate what it will be by the grace of God. The fire which
is God Himself consumes, but does not cause suffering. It bums
pleasantly and cauterizes with joy, for it is a very devastating
ember which attacks vices, so that the soul may procure the recompense of God's anointing. In this way love brings more
luminous knowledge to the intellect by bringing God more frequently before the eyes of the mind. Hence, souls understand that
the Lord is present in the power by which they are transformed,
and in the love by which they are inflamed. Any soul desirous of
perfection should strive to have God present to itself, not only by
the dark assent of Faith, but by the illumination of the Gifts of the
Holy Ghost as welL
15. Furthermore, these Gifts are called habits or celestial gifts of
the Spirit, because they are regulated by divine inspiration. Now;
inspiration indicates a motion which comes from the outside. The
help of the First Cause, of course, is needed by man and every
creature for any motion, and in this sense the motions of all
creatures need a help which comes from the outside. Nevertheless,
a special help is needed in men when the inherent principles and
virtues are not sufficient for the accomplishments of that higher
sphere of activity which is made possible by the elevation of the
Gifts. Moreover, on this plane men need to be perfected by an
exterior principle and power both moving and adding a spirit, a new
and higher force, a more sublime rule of action. For the Spirit is
intimately related to power and strength. Hence, when a man is
disposed to operate by more than human principles, which he can
regulate and measure by principles proportioned to his human
nature, it is necessary that he receive the Spirit, a higher power,
moving him by a superior impulse and elevation. This accords
with David's statement: I opened my mouth and panted because I
longed for thy commandmentg. 35 The mouth of the soul pants. The
very inner spirit of the intellect and will which recreates the heart
and gives it its vital force, gasps with an open mouth. It sighs for
the fountain of supernal life. Lydia, the seller of purple, is described as she whose heart the Lord opened to give heed to what
was being said by Paul. 36 This opening of the mouth of the heart
36

Psalm cxviii, 131.

36

Acts, xvi, 14.

THE GIFTS OF .THE HOLY GHOST

281

is prerequisite to the reception of these Gifts of the Holy Ghost.
For closed mouth would not permit the Spirit to enter, while the
mouth which is open does not resist the Spirit. These spirits, vital
and divine, are given by God, so that the human heart will be
compliant with the movements of the Holy Ghost in that higher
sphere of action to which it is directed and elevated by God.
They are called gifts of the Spirit, therefore, since they come from
the outside through the inspiration of God, moving the soul to that
higher manner of acting in which the ordinary virtues of mere
human nature are insufficient. By such an inspiration and an opening of the heart, the Holy Ghost renders men readily movable for
higher accomplishments. As Isaias remarks, The Lord has opened
my ear, and I do not resist: I have not gone back. 81

a

16. For a man to be moved, therefore, to ·that higher manner
of acting, which is according to the measure of the Holy Ghost and
not merely according to a measure attainable through human
reason, these higher gifts are required. They adorn and elevate even
the virtues. They govern a man and measure his actions upon a
higher plane. Job testifies that His spirit adorned the heavens, and
his obstetric hand brought forth the winding serpent. 88 By their
very spirituality, the powers of the intellect and will are a sort of
heaven, elevated above the bodily powers. Furthermore, through
the ordination and regulation of the virtues they are directed in
their motion and they revolve like heavens. Adorned by the Holy
Ghost with the Gifts, the human heart may be raised to an even
loftier plane. It may then be regulated not according to the conbut accordstricted and impoverished standards of human
ing to the full scope of the Holy Ghost. When this is done, the
winding serpent is brought forth from the heart. For the spirit of
the devil not only dwells in the hearts of sinners, but even seeks to
wend its tortuous way within the hearts of spiritual men, to deceive
them with its false appearances and pretexts of spiritual elevations
-visions or interior illusions. This winding serpent is brought forth
by the same divine Spirit through whom the "heavens" are
adorned. For the human mind is illuminated by the Gifts of the
Holy Ghost, so that it may discern the machinations of the serpent
and may not be ignorant of his treachery, even when he transforms
himself into an angel of light. Likewise, the Gifts; enable the mind
87

Isaias, I, 5.

•• Job, xxvi, 18.

282

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

to tend heavenward by a straight course and a direct route, without
error and evasions. Thy good spirit shall lead me into the righfJ
land. 39 To direct himself to that right land and not to wander is
impossible for a man who lacks the breathing and inspiration of the
divine Spirit. Through the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, therefore, by
which the" heavens" are adorned, the winding serpent is extracted.
His wiles are made manifest and laid open to view, even when he
hides coiled and entangled amid the appearances of spiritual things.
17. Finally, the gifts are called spirits, because they both adorn
the soul and inspire it with the very breath of God. Embracing Him
as a Spouse, the soul receives the kiss of His mouth and the breath
of His spirit. The powers of the soul are made perfect and elevated to a higher plane. By the word of the Lord the heavens were
established; and all the power of them by the spirit of his mouth. 40
For the spirit of the mouth of the Lord establishing powers is the
spirit of those gifts coming from the kiss of the Lord. Since it is
impressed upon a soul burn.ing with heavenly desires, this kiss is so
completely effective that the soul drinking in His spirit becomes
totally transformed by a divine participation, and it draws away
from earthly things.
Sometimes this action leads to the death of the body, for it is
recorded of Moses that he died . . . by the commandment of the
Lord, 41 which Oleaster translates according to the Hebrew, died by
the mouth of the Lord. 42 The command of the divine mouth, then,
was a kiss of the Lord so strongly impressed upon the soul of Moses
that it exhausted its vitality and snatched him out of his body by
the intensity of spiritual love. Many of the saints felt such a kiss,
for St. Paul wrote, For if we were out of our mind, it was for God;
if we are sane, it is for you. 43 In that passage sobriety of action is
placed in contradistinction to intoxication of spirit in which the
saints abandon themselves to the powers of the Lord and become
mindful only of His justice. They are out of their minds for God
and sober towards their neighbor. Such is the divinely ·ordered
•• Psalm cxii, 10.
•• Psalm xxxii, 6.
41 Deuteronomy, xxxiii, 5.
42 Oleaster, Jerome, 0. P., d. 1563. Commentarium in Pentateuchum Moysi. Cf.
Echard, Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum, t. ll, pp. 182, 335.
•• II Corinthians, v, 13.

THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

283

wine cellar of love. In it Charity is so ordered that the soul in its
divine intoxication strives towards God with its full force and without restraint. Then with sobriety and modesty the soul allows its
love to overfl.ow upon creatures according to their worth and necessity, not giving itself over to them nor seeking them for themselves
but for God.
18. Therein lies the true understanding of spiritual love and of
that most obscure book, the Canticle of Canticles, which begins by
mentioning the kiss of the Lord: Let him kiss me with the kiss of
his mouth. 44 It is as if the love of the Holy Church began where the
life of Moses had its end. For he died by the kiss of the Lord, but
the Church began by the kiss of the mouth of God. Where the
law given through Moses had its consummation, the law of spiritual
love found its beginning. For its beginning was the kiss of the
divine mouth which is the Holy Ghost, proceedingfrom the mouth
of God, and embracing in His kiss the Father and the Son. This
abundance of love and intoxication of the Spirit was poured forth
upon the Church at Pentecost, and it :£!.owed down over the entire
body of the Church through the centuries: Like the precious ointment on the head, that ran down upon the beard (that is, the
manly fortitude), the beard of Aaron, which ran down to the skirt
of his garment as the dew of Hermon which descends upon mount
Sion. 45 The Church is worthy to be clothed with a more abundant
glory than that of Moses. Hence, Moses reached his consummation
in the kiss of the Lord, which is the Holy Ghost, and from that
very point on Pentecost the Church began. 46 For the Lord Jesus
sent His Spirit with such abundance upon the Church that it made
the disciples intoxicated, and many said of them, They are full of
wine. 47
19. So great and so efficacious were the Gifts of the Holy
Ghost which the Lord bestowed with such abundance upon His
Church, that they purified it from all wordly taint. They trans.. Canticle of Canticles, i, l.
•• Psalm cxxxii, f.!.
•• John of St. Thomas here follows an opinion on the origin of the Church that
is not traditionally Thomistic. St. Thomas teaches that the Church was born from
the open side of Christ on Calvary. His opinion is followed by Pope Pius XU
in the Encyclical "Mystici COi"por!s" (ed. America Press, p. 14). The Church
to its perfection on Pentecost.
was
•• Acu, ii, s.

284

JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

formed it with the purity and light of the Spirit and exalted it
above every measure of 'human frailty and natural reason. Once
the Church had tasted and drunk that wine of the Spirit, it could
say with the spouse, for thy breasts are better than wine, 48 that is,
made better by that wine of the Spirit, with which you inebriate.
These breasts of the Spouse are powers adorning the soul and offering overflowing breasts both to the mind and to the will. They are
made better by the wine of the spiritual gifts and are made fragrant with most precious ointments, since they proceed from the
Spirit of the divine mouth. This kiss of· His mouth is completely
spiritual and pure, not like that of passion, which although it is
done by the mouth, is not of the mouth but of concupiscence and
of the flesh. The kiss of the divine mouth is the kiss of speech, of
communication, of understanding, the kiss of the Word, and of
splendor. By the word of the Lord the heavens were established
(]JJ'I,d, all the power of them by the spirit of his rnouth. 49

(To be continued.)

'"Canticle of
•• P1alm xxxii, 6.

i, I; iv, 10.

BOOK REVIEWS
The New Testament in English. By RoNALD A. KNox.
Sheed and Ward, 1944. Pp. 573. $3.00.

New York:

Translation? Paraphrase? Commentary? The triple question is bound to
rise when one reads Msgr. Knox's "New Testament in English." In the
preface he hints at a departure from " ordinary methods " and indeed the
result is far from ordinary.
It is no pleasant thing to strike consciously a dissonant note in the hr··.
mony of praise that 'has gone up about this book. It deserves a great many
of the nice things that have been written about it. However, the publishers,
in their house organ, give us to understand that " critics may differ as
to whether this latest translation is very good or merely good, or perhaps
not so good," and a number of reviews so far seen also draw a line between
the "critic" and the "layman": the latter obviously being expected to
approve; the former, to disapprove. The "critics" ought to be the most
competent judges in this matter, and if they are so confidently expected to
disapprove, it would seem that there must be somewhere " the little rift
within the lute." And there is!
Good Latin and Greek scholarship is essential to a good translation of
the Vulgate, but there are other ingredients that enter into a good transThere must be, and it seems to me that it is the most important
of all, a high degree of accuracy, by which I mean fidelity to the originaL
A translation ought to reproduce as closely as is possible within the limits
of the newer language, the thought and expression of the original. Words
in any language represent mental concepts, and the concepts caused by the
language of the version ought to be the same as those caused by the language of the original. Where that is not true, we have no translation but
a paraphrase or a commentary. And a translation ought not to so interpolate and substitute that a merely possible interpretation is woven into
the text as the actual text itself. The proposal of a particular sense in a
disputed passage ought to be left to the commentaries and not interpolated
into the text. It is fidelity to the original that, in the last analysis, distinguishes a translation from a paraphrase or a commentary. It is its fidelity
to its original that we have praised so long in the Douai-Rheims Bible,
maintaining that that fidelity more than compensated for the supposedly
superior English style of the King James Version. The same defense cannot
be made of this new version.
One finds in this work an extraordinary number of minor interpolations;
modifying words and phrases that have no justification in the original text.

285

fl86

REVIEWS

Repeatedly such temporal particles as soon, afterwarcJ,s,still, already, when,
and the like, are inserted to give the text involved a precise modality that
is lacking in the original. John I, 1 reads: "At the beginning of time";
Romans Vlli, 38: "The height above us, and the depth beneath us";
Acts I, 8: "Enough for you"; Romans V, 6: "Were that hope vain";
I Cor. XIII, 4: "Charity is never perverse or proud." In Romans V, 8,
the simple affirmation "Oommendat autem charitatem suam Deus pro
nobis," becomes" As if God means to prove how well he loves us." Serious
enough for one who is interested in the true sense of Sacred Scripture is,
for example, the interpolation of the phrase of time in John I, 1 and I, 3.
" Which command is more lightly given " (Matt. IX, 5) is but one of several possible interpretations of " quid est facilius dicere." As with the in
principia of St. John, I think it the most probable interpretation, but I
know that it is not certainly the correct interpretation and that it is
certainly not an exact translation of either Vulgate or Greek. As has
been said, the ·proposal of possible interpretations ought to be left to a
commentary.
There are a great many passages that must be called mis-translations.
By what transmutation of language can the " mollibus vestitum " of Matt.
XI, 8 become "clad in silk?" Or what authority is there for rendering
Luke II, 52 as, "And so Jesus advanced in wisdom with the years?" In
Romans VI, 4, "per gloriam Patris" becomes "by His Father's power,"
but if St. Paul had in mind'precisely that attribute of the divinity which
is power, why did he write " glory "? Neither doxe of the Greek nor gloria
of the Latin means power in English. " Qui autem discernit " of Romans
XIV, 23 means something quite other than "He who hesitates." In Romans
V, 4 "Patientia (operatur) probationem, probatio vero spem," is rendered
" Endurance gives proof of our faith, and a proved faith gives ground for
hope," and it is difficult to understand how Msgr. Knox gets "faith" out
of either the Latin probatio or the Greek dokime. No one familiar with
the precision of speech of St. Paul and the exactness of the theological
concepts that underly his words, can condone such alterations of his text.
The Vulgate in Romans VIII, 3, has" Nam quod impossibile erat legi, m
quo infirmabatur per carnem," but here we have ...there was something
the law could not do, because flesh and blood could not lend it the power,"
and the text is thereby given a perspective quite alien to it in the original.
It is not, in St. Paul, a question of the law seeking or lacking the help of
the flesh, but of the flesh being a positive impediment to the fulfillment of
the law.
I do not intend to multiply examples. These are typical of far too much
of the translation, so much in fact that all sense of security in reading is lost.
It may be said that the " critic " or the theologian who wants the exact
wording of the text can always have recourse to the Vulgate or the Greek,
and that, as has been hinted, this is a translation for the " layman." Suck

287

REVIEWS

defense would be a sin against good Catholic English tradition as well as
against the science of Biblical translation and interpretation. We want
accuracy and fidelity above all else, laymen as well as theologians. That
was the thesis of the Douai-Rheims translators and, if I mistake not, it is
still the desire of English-speaking Catholics. We want to read in our English versions exactly what the hagiographer wrote and not what a translator
thinks he may have meant. If we want a particular private interpretation
of his meaning, we can always have recourse to a commentary.
Msgr. Knox's version has been praised for its clarity, and there is no
doubt that his style is lucid-one never has any difficulty in understanding
what Msgr. Knox means. One reads with pleasure and is tempted to forget
that faithful rendition of the divine word ought to take precedence over
all else.
I think that Msgr. Knox could write a splendid commentary on the New
Testament, and I sincerely wish that he would. I think also that if he had
respected more the " ordinary methods," he would have produced a distinguished and valuable translation-there are evidences enough of that
in this work-but I am not at all satisfied with this latest English version
of the New Testament.
WILLIAM A. McLouGHLIN, O.P.
Dominican House of Studies,
Washington, D. C.
11

History of Psychology, from the Standpoint of a Thomist. By RoBERT E.
BRENNAN. New York: Macmillan, 1945. Pp.xviii
277. $3.00.

+

It is an extremely difficult task to describe, even in its most general outlines, the history of psychology from its beginnings to the present time.
Dr. Brennan has solved this difficulty amazingly well. Of course, one may
wish that this or that name would appear, or that some chapters were
shorter so as to leave more space for others. But such ideas are probably
the result of one's personal predilections and may not be objectively
justified.
However, some names that ought to appear are missing: one is the name
of the great French neurologist, Marie, whose work inaugurated the restatement of our whole theory of aphasia and, therefore, of cerebral "localization"; another is that of Dilthey, who is more rightly to be considered as
the first to introduce the concept of an " understanding " as set over against
an" explaining" psychology. Spranger, who is credited with this, is, in fact,
wholly dependent upon Dilthey.
There are two other figures in the history of psychology, more important
and influential, whose names are not mentioned. More than any other
writer, Nietzsche is the inspiration for many current notions on human

REVIEWS

nature; and his counterpart, Kierkegaard, has already gained a marked
influence on certain philosophies and psychologies. No doubt the latter's
importance will be recognized more adequately since his works have been
translated into English.
This reviewer would also take issue with the author's presentation of the
psychology of Wolff; this thinker was much more sensible than he appears
in the usual disparaging statements about his system. Moreover, the philosophies of Kant and Hegel are not quite accurately characterized. It ought
not to be forgotten that the " thinking subject," either in Kant or in Hegel,
is not the individual mind: hence, it is not correct to say that " Hegel ...
rejected all reality beyond the thinking subject"; Hegel's reality is primarily the " absolute idea '' of which " the subjective spirit " is only a
passing manifestation.
Furthermore, the author characterizes Ki.ilpe's antecedents in the statement: " he worked in the spirit of Brentano though he was influenced
undoubtedly by Wundt "; rather, he began as Wundt's pupil and follower
and later came under the influence, not so much of Brentano, as of Husser!
(whose name also deserved mention).
The author sees, running through the history of psychology, and active
today, three main trends: one, materialistic, originating with Democritus;
two, idealistic, stemming from Plato; three, the combination of the two into
a true " anthropological " approach, the source of which is Aristotle. It is
in the light of this conception that he views the various schools and ideas.
In fact, the history of psychology cannot be written unless seen against the
background of a comprehensive philosophical view. The differences between
the many " psychologies " are primarily of a philosophical nature. Dr.
Brennan remarks that there is no such history conceived from the Thomistic
viewpoint. But there is none conceived from any other systematic viewpoint either. Thus, this little book is indeed something of a pioneering
work. Its author has succeeded in what he purposed to do: he has given
us a succinct survey of the main phases and ideas in the history of psychology; he has also made clear the advantage which, viewed merely from
the angle of usefulness in research and formation of theories, the Aristotelian-Thomistic conception of man has in comparison with the many
varieties of other philosophies which he manages to characterize.
As the author himself points out, his book is not all too easy reading,
because of the wealth of matter compressed in so little space. But it is
highly profitable reading and may well serve not only as an introduction to
the history of psychology, but also as a manifestation of the essence of
psychology itself.
RuDOLF ALLERs, M.D., Ph. D.
Catholic University of America,
Washington, D. 0.

BRIEF NOTICES

to

Speaking of How
Pray. By MARY PERKINS. New York: Sheed and
Ward, 1944. Pp.
Certainly we must welcome any book that really helps us to pray; such
is the latest book of Miss Perkins. She has accomplished this end, not so
much by telling us what prayer is, but rather by pointing out the need for
prayer and giving us, in generous quotations from the liturgy, the matter
for prayer. Her explanation of prayer comes rather late in the volume;
an earlier introduction of this would have been helpful to most readers.
Though she might be excused from any explicit discussion of the important
distinctions between the prayer of petition and meditative or contemplative
prayer, a firmer grasp of these distinctions in her own mind would have
added to the value of the work.
In an otherwise extraordinarily accurate doctrinal introduction, there is
one serious theological slip. The author is discussing the Incarnation in
relation to our Redemption. She points out that God might have redeemed
us in many ways: "Yet He chose, in His infinite Love, to make a human
nature capable of satisfying His Justice, repaying the debts of mankind;
capable of loving Him with a Love so great that it would undo the wrong
done to His Love by all sin; capable of meriting, for all mankind, the life
of grace and glory and everything necessary to achieve that life in its fullness; capable of giving that life of grace to all mankind" (p. 41). Not
even God could make such a human nature; even the human nature of
Christ had no such capabilities; all that Miss Perkins attributes to Christ's
human nature must be attributed to grace. It is true that without human
nature, Christ could not have accomplished all these things for us, but it
is not the principle of the accomplishment.

The Bond of Peace. By MICHAEL KENT. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945. Pp. 186.
Despite the assertion of the publisher's blurb to the contrary, this is a
work of apologetics, one of the most mature works to have appeared in
recent years from an American pen. The author has chosen a rather simple
device; he has chosen at random three history text-books by Non-Catholic
authors, selected from them passages about the medieval world, the Lutheran
reform, the gradual disintegration of European culture since the reform and
the prospects for the future. The.se passages are given in an Appendix. The
text of the work itself is a brilliant exploitation of the admissions that these
rather anti-Catholic historians had to make.

289

290

BRIEF NOTICES

The author's first work was a novel, The Mass of Brother Michel; this
present volume is thoroughly factual, but as gripping as a novel. In fact
it rises to a climax which is as startling as the solution to a mystery story;
it would be unjust to the author to reveal it. We can say that we agree
with it whole-heartedly.

The Bone and the Star. By DoROTHY DoNNELLY. New York: Sheed and
Ward, 1944. Pp. 205. $2.25.
This is another adult piece of apologetic literature. Miss Donnelly has
been criticized for the difficulty of the matter, especially in the first part.
However, there are any number of bright young . Catholics who read Frazer,
Wundt, Freud, and other modern writers; for them the present book should
not be too difficult. The author has given in the first part of her work a
faithful account of the world and human development in modern terms.
The data of ethnology and anthropology are carefully expounded. Having
presented the usual picture, she goes back to the biblical account and explains the same data from the standpoint of Genesis. She makes no dogmatic
assertions; she simply manifests the fact that the Bible can more rationally
account for the known facts about human development. Her work is a
satisfactory refutation of the Freudian explanation, for it shows that Freud
had to invent any number of myths to explain the known: facts, while the
facts can be easily explained in terms of Paradise and the Fall.

Medieval Studies: Volume Vl-1944. Toronto, Canada: Pontifical Institute
of Medieval Studies, 1944. Pp. 354. $5.00.
This issue of Medieval Studies contains the following articles by wellknown scholars: " The Mind of St. Augustine," by Anton Pegis; " Bonum
Commune Melius est Quam Bonum Unius: Eine Studie iiber den Wertvorrang des Personalen bei Thomas von Aquin," by lguatius Eschmann,
0. P.; "The Moment of Consecration and the Elevation of the Host," by
V. L. Kennedy, 0. S. B.; " The Hexameron of Robert Grosseteste. The First
Twelve Chapters of Part Seven," by J. T. Muckle, C. S. B.; "An Inquiry
into the Origins. of CourJ;ly Love," by A. J. Denomy, C. S. B.; "The Writ
of Prohibition to Court Christian in the Thirteenth Century," by G. B.
Flahiff, C. S. B.; " The Pilgrim Diary of Nikulas Munkathvera: The Road
to Rome," by F. P. Magoun, Jr.

Catholic Art and Culture. By E. I. WATKIN. New York: Sheed and Ward,
1944. Pp. 266, with index and illustrations. $4.50.
We certainly need a readable account of Catholic art and culture, one
that is based on sound principles of criticism and presents us with a broad

BRIEF NOTICES

291

view of the impact of the faith on cultural life. Mr. Watkin has attempted
such an account. It makes difficult reading, for he tries to sustain throughout the work three distinct metaphors, which are rather mixed up at times,
at least in the mind of the reader. It is not a comprehensive account, for
it omits altogether music and touches lightly on literature. The emphasis
is on architecture and painting. One gets the impression that the book was
written to prove a thesis-a private conviction of the author: viz., that the
baroque culture was the perfection of Catholic culture. The usual view is
that the baroque was the beginning of a decay of medieval culture. It is
not at all clear that Mr. Watkin has proven his thesis. In fact, quite the
contrary appears from his statements. For he has had to accuse the Middle
Ages of Puritanism and dismiss many of the saints as unnatural in order
to bolster his claim that the compromise with the world that made baroque
possible is the perfection of Catholic Culture.

The Natu1·e and Origin of Scientism. By JoHN WELLMUTH,S. J. Milwaukee:
Marquette University Press, 1944. Pp. 60.
Father Wellmuth frankly admits that his lecture is based on the
of Gilson and the Abbe K. Michalski. We are fortunate to have the researches of the latter made available in this form. However, the works of
both Gilson and Michalski present a problem. Gilson, in his Unity of Philosophical Experience, links St. Bonaventure with some unsavory predecessors
in the error of" theologism." Michalski, if Father Wellmuth's presentation
is correct, links him with some even more unsavory successors. For the
thesis of the lecture is that St. Bonaventure, by his lack of trust in human
reason, nullified to a great extent the influence of St. Thomas and became
the progenitor of modern scientism. The difficulty that presents itself is
the fact that St. Bonaventure is a Doctor of the Church. Does that mean
simply that he never en:ed in faith or morals? And are not the errors
attributed to him by Gilson and Michalski rather serious from the viewpoint of the faith? Would it not be truer to say that St. Bonaventure's
method of presenting the truths of faith and philosophy is perfectly legitimate, but easily distorted; that it was distorted by his disciples? It is also
easy to distort St. Thomas' method.

BOOKS RECEIVED
Bittle, C. N. The Whole Man. Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Co., 1945.
Pp. 687, with index. $3.50.
Croce, B. Politics and Morals. New York: Philosophical Library, 1°45.
Pp. !l04. $3.00.
De Brito, D. La Philosophie du Droit des Gens. Washington, D. C.:
Catholic University Press, 1944. Pp. !l54, with index.
Frank, E. Philosophical Understanding and Religious Truth. New York:
Oxford University Press, 1945. Pp. 209, with index. $2.50.
Giles of Rome. Errores Philosophorum. Edited by J. Koch, translated by
J. 0. Riedl. Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1944. Pp. lix
67, with index. $3.00.
Giordani, G. The Social Message of the Early Church Fathers. Paterson:
St. Anthony Guild Press, 1944. Pp. 356, with index. $4.00.
Goodspeed, E. J. Problems of New Testament Translation. Chicago: Uni210, with index. $2.50.
versity of Chicago Press, 1945. Pp. xix
Griese, N. 0. The" Rhythm" in Marriage and Christian Morality. Westminster: The Newman Bookshop, 1944. Pp. 131, with index. $2.25.
Hoek, K. van. Pope Pius XII: Priest and Statesman. New York: Philosophical Library, 1944. Pp. 106. $2.00.
Krzesinski, A. J. Nazi Germany's Foreign Policy. Boston: Bruce Humphries, 1945. Pp. 44. $.50.
Krzesinski, A. J. Religion of Nazi Germany. Boston: Bruce Humphries,
1945. Pp. 48. $ .50. '
Langraf, A. Commentarius Cantabrigiensis in Epistolas S. Pauli e Schola
Petri Abaelardi. Notre Dame, Ind.: Notre Dame University Press,

+

+

1944.

Reinhold, H. A. (Ed.). The Soul Afire. New York: Pantheon Books, 1945.
Pp. 413, with index. $3.50.