THE THOMI T
A SPECULATIVE QUARTERLY REVIEW
OF THEOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY

EnrroRs:

THE DoMINICAN

Publishers:

VoL. XX

FATHERS OF TRE PROVINCE OF ST. JosEPH

The Thomist Press, Washington 17, D. C.

APRIL, 1957

INTRODUCTION

No.2

TO METAPHYSICS

approaches to the text of Aristotle's Metaphysics
are used by many scholars today. The first is by way
of historical and philological analysis. This method
tends to dismember the text and reduce it to disordered
ments which are supposed to represent the different stages of
Aristotle's thought, or of his school, or the vagaries of his
ancient editors. Thus far no substantial agreement is to be
found among the authors who have pursued this method. Is
it not because the exegesis of a text must first of aU be one
which enters into the author's thought? Aristotle wrote as a
philosopher, not as a philologist, and if we do not read him in
his own light we are sure to " discover " contradictions where
they do not exist.
The second method is to read Aristotle philosophically but
still with historical preoccupations. The effort here is to show
his position as a unique stage in human thought, different

_l

121

WILLIAM H. KANE

from that of any other thinker. His must be seen as a" pure
postion " opposed to other positions. Thus the problem becomes one of recovering the " genuine Aristotle " in contrast
to his disciples or his commentators. This method leads inevitably to a minimizing interpretation, because it excludes
from the account much that is implicit in the text, and turns
differences of emphasis into differences in doctrine.
But if our concern with Aristotle is mainly philosophical, the
historical approach can be regarded as merely ancillary, and
then a third method is appropriate. This is to regard Aristotle
as a teacher from whom we can learn something of the truth.
When we approach him in this way we seek to grasp his meaning according to his own mind, with all its implications about
the t:ruth of things. We are not concerned about how he came
to know what he is teaching, nor to compare him with other
teachers, but to follow his lead and to see things which he
points out and helps us to see. It is this third approach which
I shall use in this article, trying to see what care the Philosopher
takes to introduce the beginner to first philosophy.
A careful study of Aristotle's metaphysics may raise in our
minds more questions than the text itself seems to answer.
Nevertheless, there is one point which stands out with particular clarity, and this is the caution with which we are introduced to the science of the first principles and causes of being
as such. Aristotle does not lead us immediately into a sea of
difficult questions where our minds must inevitably and hopelessly founder. He does not assume that we already know
what the task is which we are trying to accomplish, or whether
it is worth the effort, or whether other attempts have been
made, or to what extent others have succeeded or failed, or
whether it is genuinely possible, or how we should proceed
with this final consideration of philosophic t:ruth.. Rather, he
meets us on our own ground, and beginning with what we
already know he leads us boldly on to an understanding of the
ambitious inquiry which we are undertaking.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

128

The futroduction to a science is designed to render the beginner docile and eager to perfect his knowledge by his own effort
together with the help of the teacher. 1 It is not expected that
the ordinary student will be able to make progress in his studies
unaided, particularly not in difficult matters. The reasonable
way to learn is by cooperating with a teacher who already
knows the scope and order of the discipline, who can distinguish
between the known and the unknown, and who can point out
the right path and maintain it with right reason. In order to
begin a long and difficult course of study, the student must
first of all be convinced that an understanding of the subject
is useful for something or is even desirable for its own sake.
Then the natural curiosity of the mind must be awakened by
the challenge of earnest questions or by the clash of opinions
about the subject of inquiry. Finally, the student must be confronted with real difficulties which enable him to appreciate
his ignorance and to see clearly that he needs the help of his
teacher in order to make direct and sure progress in learning.
In a word, the beginner must believe that with the help of
his teacher he can achieve knowledge which he sincerely desires
to possess. Without the desire to know, he will do nothing.
Without the conviction that the knowing, even though difficult,
is really worth-while he will not desire to know. He will not
hope to learn nor begin to study unless he believes that the
learning, however difficult, is desirable and genuinely possible
with the help of the teacher. The introduction to a science is
aimed at arousing in the mind of the beginner these dispositions
favorable to learning.
·
Now we shall try to follow our teacher as he introduces us
to the science which we call metaphysics but which he called
first philosophy, or simply wisdom. Aristotle begins with the
challenging statement that each man naturally desires to know,
in the sense of perfect knowing. 2 What this manner of knowing
is and the general ways of achieving it, he has already analyzed
1 St. Thomas, de Anima,lect. 1, n. 2.
• Met. A,uso aiS.

124

WILLIAM H. KANE

in his logical works, with which the student presumably has at
least some acquaintance. Furthermore, he has analyzed natural
things in general and human nature in particular throughout
the physical, psychological and moral works, and with these
also the student is supposed to be more or less familiar. Thus
the opening statement is not merely an appeal to ordinary
experience, but a challenge to recall the disciplines already
learned, and an invitation to whet the appetite for something
more and better.
Natural desire to know causes
Indeed, we love even sensory knowledge, and particularly
seeing, not only because this knowledge is useful for the business
of life but also because it is delightful and desirable for its
own sake. Animals, too, have sensory knowledge, and in varying degrees. All of them have the sense of touch, and some, but
not all, have memory. These are capable of a certain prudence
and have an aptitude for learning, but only those which have
hearing can be taught. Thus the animals other than man live
by sensory discrimination and memory, and manifest little of
related experience.
Over and above memory and experience, man lives by art
and reasoning. Human experience arises from memories, and
seems similar to art and science because it yields a certain
skill. Yet experience is limited to the singiulars which have
been perceived and remembered, whereas art includes knowledge of the cause. For the purpose of acting, experience and art
may not seem to differ, although the man with experience does
better in practice than the man who has the art without
experience. This is because experience, like action, is concerned
with singulars, while art is knowledge of universals which may
not include the knowledge of singulars.
Nevertheless, we think that knowledge of the cause and the
ability to solve difficulties pertains rather to art than to experience, and we suppose that artists are wiser than men of mere
experience. This seems to indicate that wisdom depends more

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

125

upon knowledge of the cause than upon anything else. Those
with experience do indeed know that something is so; yet they
do not know why. But the wise know the cause and why it is
so. Thus we think that the master-workers know more perfectly
and are wiser and more honorable than the manual workers,
not because of what they can do, but because they know the
causes of the things which are made, whereas the others do
not understand what they do, but act through mere custom.
Furthermore, the sign of perfect knowing is the ability to teach,
and this belongs rather to art than to experience. Nor do we
regard any sensory knowledge whatever as wisdom. Even
though the senses give us the best knowledge of singulars, still
they tell us only that something is so, not why.
During the course of time men of genius have developed
various arts not only for the production of useful things but
also for pleasure. These men are admired and honored for their
more excellent knowledge, and they are for this reason considered wise, rather than for the utility of their inventions.
Later on, after many of these arts had been perfected to serve
the needs and pleasures of life, the theoretical sciences were
developed by men who had leisure for thought, and these men
especially were reputed to be wise. Thus we see that what men
have called wisdom is in all cases an excellence in knowing or
acting, and particularly a knowledge of causes. For the man
of experience is wiser than the man without experience and with
mere sensory perception; the artist is wiser than the manualworker; the architect is wiser than the mechanic; and in the
theoretical or speculative sciences there is more of the nature
of wisdom than in the active ones. Hence we conclude that
wisdom itself, which is what we are pursuing, is the knowledge
of certain causes and principles.

The reach of wisdom

If we consider the characteristics of the man who is called
wise, we shall be able to determine what sort of causes and
principles these are which must be known
order to possess

WILLIAM H. KANE

wisdom itself. 3 In the first place, a man who is wise knows aU
things, as far as is fitting-not everything in detail. He knows
not just the things of ordinary perception, but things which are
great and wonderful and difficult to learn. His knowledge is not
doubtful but certain; he knows the causes of things; his knowledge is not merely useful but desirable on its own account; he
is able to teach, and to persuade and rule others.
Now, the man who knows the most universal science which
treats of the first causes of things and their principles has in
an eminent degree the characteristics of the wise man. He
especially is one who knows all things, because he knows all
particulars in their universal causes. These causes are very
great and difficult to know, because they are far removed from
the nature of sensory things. The most universal science is most
certain, because it is developed from fewer and simpler principles, just as arithmetic is more certain than geometry. This
science gives us knowledge of the first causes of things, and is
above all others desirable for its own sake because it attains to
that which is most knowable, namely, the first principles and
causes by which other things are and are known. It is most
instructive because it is knowledge of the first causes, and
authoritative because it extends even to the final cause, which
is the supreme good and end of all. This science, therefore,
which is wisdom itself, is knowledge of the first causes of things.
The dignity of wisdom

The science of first causes is theoretical knowledge, that
is, knowledge for its own sake, not for the sake of production
or action. 4 This characteristic of wisdom itself is dear from
its very origin. The quest for knowledge of the truth is and
was born of wonder.
those men of genius saw something
which impressed them as unusual and great, and which they
did not understand, they began to wonder about it and to
inquire into its whys and wherefores. At first they wondered
3 Ibid., 982 a5.
"Ibid., 9Sf.l bn.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

127

about the more ordinary difficulties, but later they raised
questions about greater matters, such as the appearance of the
heavens and the origin of the world. They acknowledged that
they were ignorant of these great things which they desired to
know, and so they philosophized in order to escape ignorance.
Even the lover of myths is in a sense a philosopher, that is,
lover of wisdom, because the myth is composed of wonders.
Thus it is clear that they were pursuing science in order to know
the truth about things, not for mere utility. Indeed this kind of
knowledge was first sought by men who already possessed
almost all that is required for human life and comfort, and so
it was sought for the truth itself, not for any other advantage.
Furthermore, this science is entirely liberal or free. Just as a
man is free who acts for himself and as master of self, not the
servant of others, so wisdom alone among all the parts of philosophy exists for its own sake and is the only free science,
because it is the most universal science and treats of the first
causes of all things.
Yet we must confess that this science is not a human possession. Knowledge so broad and free is not something which a
man can master. Man can neither possess it perfectly nor can
he use it when he pleases, because human nature itself is not
perfectly free, but in many ways a servant of its needs and
infirmities.
Nevertheless, this knowledge is most honorable and most
desirable, because it extends to the first cause of all things,
namely, to God, and is a sharing in the knowledge which
belongs especially to God.
If we should be so fortunate as to attain this science of first
causes, we must end in something which is the opposite of our
starting point. We begin our search with wonder that things
are as they are, but we must end in the contrary and better
state, because we shall possess the truth and cease to wonderthough not entirely so, because we cannot perfectly possess the
truth which we seek.

1!!8

WILLIAM H. KANE

Other attempts to philosophize
In our study of physical science we learned that natural
things have principles, causes and elements by which they are
made and constituted. There we acknowledged four kinds of
causes, namely, material causes together with formal, efficient
and final causes. Now we shall consider what others who
philosophized before us have had to say about the principles
and causes of things, in order that we might either find some
other kind of cause or be convinced that our account was sufficient.5 A brief history of early Greek philosophy is possible,
and is of permanent value because the problems and doctrines
which were current then are typical of the main philosophical
positions which have been taken down to the present.
The early philosophers agreed in assuming or admitting
that there is some distinction between appearance and reality.
They thought that the true reality of things lies beyond or .
within the passing show of mere appearance. However, they did
not agree in determining what this genuine reality is, or how
to account for the changing world. Some thought that the real
stuff of the world is a fluid substance which abides under
different shapes and forms, for instance, water or air. Others
denied that there is anything stable, and asserted that the
only reality is an ever-changing fire which is perpetually dying
and flaring up again. Still others thought that things are not
so simple, and that more causes are required in order to give a
complete account of them. The world is so complex that we
must admit many different kinds of things, and there must be
a mover or cause of motion among them, and an intellect to put
them in order. However, others thought that it is sufficient to
admit countless atoms or tiny particles, all of the same kind,
all falling in a void and· by mere chance forming various combinations. Again, others thought that the numbers or mathemathical things are the genuine reality, and still others thought
that this reality consists of species which exist apart from
• Ibid., 988 b.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

129

sensory things and which are somehow imitated or participated
by sensory things.
Thus all the early philosophers admitted a material principle
from which things are made and constituted. Some admitted
also an efficient cause as the source of motion. Some admitted
a formal or specifying cause which existed either in sensory
things themselves or separated and apart from sensory things.
No one, however, clearly admitted a final cause as a distinct
kind of cause which moves and activates things by being
loved or desired. Nor does it seem that anyone sufficiently
explained the complex processes of this world by the causes
which he admitted. About all these things many difficulties
remain, and much more needs to be determined.

The possibility of attaining wisdom
At this stage of the inquiry the beginner knows that the
way to philosophy is long and arduous, and he may even have
doubts whether anything worth-while can be attained. He
needs to be reassured that the search for truth is not hopeless,
however difficult it may be.
In fact, from one point of view the attainment of truth is
easy. 6 Each one of us can declare some truths about things,
and what every one can do is not difficult. Even though the
contributions of each individual may be slight, still from the
investigations and discoveries of many a great store of truths
can be collected. In this way, by patient and cooperative effort
and sometimes by brilliant discoveries, the various arts and
sciences have been wonderfully developed. Furthermore, each
one of us naturally and easily knows the very first principles of
all reasoning from which the arts and sciences proceed and
which are the seeds of wisdom.
From another point of view the determination of truth is
difficult for us. We cannot know everything at once, and it
is hard to know both the whole and the part. Things are very
complex, and we must first take the trouble to resolve the
whole by patient analysis into its parts. Then we must investi• Met. a, 998 a80.

130

W1LLIA:M H. KANE

gate the simple parts in themselves. Finally to complete our
task we must compose or synthesize the parts in relation to
each other and to the whole. This work of investigating the
truth is long and difficult not only because our intellects are
feeble but also because many things are not well proportioned
to our minds. Some things are so small or so imperfect that
they are almost unintelligible, whereas others are so great
and so perfect that they exceed our comprehension.
However, we can help one another in this quest for truth,
and what is impossible for the individual is possible by cooperation with others. Those who succeed in the investigation
of some truth can help others directly by sharing the truth
which they have found. Even those who have not been able to
determine the truth can help others indirectly, because through
frank expression of opinion and reasonable discussion the truth
more dearly appears. Indeed, we are indebted to the wise and
the unwise, and we should give thanks to aU who have aided
us in the attainment of so great a good as knowledge of the
truth.
The task of investigating truth is divided among the various
arts and sciences, but not equally. 7 The arts, for instance,
include knowledge of the causes of those things which we can
make, yet this knowledge is not just for its own sake but for
the work of production. The theoretical sciences are concerned
with things which we cannot make, and so it is in these sciences
that we seek knowledge for the sake of truth. We possess the
truth about something when we know it as it is. But things
are as their causes make them to be, and so in order to know
the truth about them we must know their causes. Some things
are variable and corruptible, and so the truth about them is
likewise variable. How<:;ver, there are also incorruptible things,
and the truth about these is invariable. With greater reason,
then, their causes are invariable and can be known with unchangeable truth. Thus as something is in regard to its being,
so is it also in regard to truth. Now, in this science which is
'Ibid., 993 bl9.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

131

wisdom we seek the first causes of being. Therefore, the
gation of truth pertains chiefly to this science.

Reply to a difficulty
But are the causes infinite in number or kind? If so, there
are no first causes, and the search for them is bound to faiL
In reply to this difficulty we can admit that there are many
causes of different kinds: efficient causes which are the dynamic
principles of motion; material causes from which things are
made and composed; final causes which are the goals of desire,
for the sake of which something is done; formal causes by which
things are of determinate kind or species. However, it is not
obvious that the causes are infinite, and careful consideration
will show that in each kind and series of causes there is both
a first and a last. Therefore, ordered causes are not infinite in
number or kind. 8
In regard to motion and its efficient causes, it is manifest
there is something which is here and now moved, for
instance, a stick or a stone, and this is moved by something
else which is the mover. This mover is the proximate efficient
cause in the ascending order, and is a mover moved by something else. Now, regardless of how many causes of this type
there may be in the series, each is a mover moved, and is an
intermediate cause. Each depends for its activity on another,
not merely on another mover moved like itself, but on another
which is a mover unmoved. This is the first principle of
motion, the first efficient cause. Without the mover unmoved
there could not be a mover moved, nor could there be any
motion whatever. The series of movers and moved is terminated in a first unmoved and a last moved, and so is not
infinite.
Among material causes there are different ways in which
something is made from something else. In certain cases the
changes are :reversible, and in others they are not reversible.
Where there is a natural order of succession within the same
• lbid., 994 a.

132

WILLIAM H. KANE

subject, with a determinate beginning, middle, and ending, as
in the birth and maturing of an organism, the change is not
reversible. Nor is it infinite, because it is terminated with
something which is first made from something else and something which becomes last. In cases where there is no determinate order of succession, for instance, among elements and
compounds, the changes are reversible. However, they fluctuate
between extremes which are terminated, and so these material
causes are not infinite. Likewise, when something is simply
generated or corrupted, the change occurs between definite
terms: the natural body in act becomes something potential,
and this body in potency becomes actuaL Therefore, material
cases are not infinite in any given series.
In the order of final causes, there is something which is first
done for the sake of something else, as a man walks in order
to aid digestion. This is desired for something else, namely,
health,
health is desired for happiness. In this order of
causes there is something which is desired for its own sake
which is the only sufficient reason why each of the others is
desired, without which nothing would be desired. Therefore,
the order of final causes is terminated, not infinite.
In regard to the formal cause by which a thing is of determinate kind or species, this is signified by our definition of
the thing. In defining we mention the genus and difference,
and these terms are sufficient to express the essence of the
thing. The definition is not improved upon if we multiply the
terms, nor would things be knowable if the terms were infinite.
However, we think that we do know when we have determined
the causes, and this we could not do if the causes were infinite.
Therefore, granting that we do know some things, the causes
are not infinite in number, and it is genuinely possible
us
to determine the first causes of things.
The need for proper method
But what method shaH we follow in this strange venture?
The fact is that there are different habits of thought and

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

138

language, and men seek and receive truth in different ways. 9
Our usual manner of thinking, whether natural or acquired, has
great power over our judgment of details, because it is the
customary that is intelligible, and that which is not customary
seems somewhat unintelligible. Thus some persons prefer the
mathematical way of thinking and speaking, and do not care to
receive in any other way, whereas others refuse the abstract
and :intelligible and require a sensory example. Others mistrust
their own judgment, and desire always to have the word of an
authority. Some demand a most exact reason in every instance,
whereas others are impatient of exact reasoning and regard it
as quibbling.
Hence the student must be instructed before hand concerning
the method of each discipline. He should not try to learn at
once both the science and the method of the science, because
it is very difficult to do both at once, and not easy to get even
one of them. For this reason he should learn logic before any
of the other sciences, and become familiar with the general
way of proceeding in an scienceS.10 The method proper to each
science should be considered near the beginning of each discipline. The exact procedure of mathematics
not be
demanded in all sciences, but only in those which treat of things
without regard to sensory matter. Hence the method of natural
science is not that of mathematics, because natural things are
subject to change and variation, and so cannot be known
with mathematical accuracy. In natuml science we must first
determine what nature is, and then we can see what the proper
subject of the science is, and what causes and principles must
be investigated in the science.
Now we shall consider how we must proceed to develop this
science of the first causes and universal truth of things. First
of all we must set forth our questions and doubts before we
try to determine the truth. 11 These doubts arise from two
sources, namely, from what other philosophers have said about
• Ibid., 994 b3l.
10

11

St. Thomas, II Metaphys., lect. 5, no. 885.
Met. B, 995 a23

184

WIT..LIAM H. KANE

the principles and causes of things, and from what they have
overlooked and failed to consider.
Those who desire to investigate the truth should begin by
doubting well, and should consider carefully the difficulties
which occur, because the investigation of truth which follows is
simply the solving of doubts or questions previously raised. A
doubt in the mind is like a fetter of the body. Anyone who
desires to untie his bonds must first examine them carefully to
see how they are tied. In like manner, anyone who wishes to
solve a doubt in his mind must examine all the difficulties and
their causes. Indeed, one who wishes to inquire into truth
without first considering the difficulties is like a man who does
not know where he must go, and consequently does not know
whether he should stop or go on. In like manner he who does
not have a previous doubt which he wishes to solve cannot
know whether or not he attains the truth which he seeks,
because he does not know the goal of his inquiry, which is
manifest to one who first knows his own question. Furthermore,
the student is able to judge better the validity of the doctrine
proposed if he knows from the start the reasons for the different
views.
For these reasons Aristotle usually begins his instructions
by proposing the doubts concerning the matter in hand. In
this way the art of the teacher imitates nature, for just as
nature stimulates us to learn by exciting wonder at great and
unaccustomed things, so the teacher arouses and guides our
desire to learn by the doubts and questions which he proposes.
But in his other works Aristotle asks only a few questions
at a time, and then proceeds directly to solve them; here,
however, he proposes all the questions at once, and later works
out answers to them in an appropriate order. There are,
perhaps, two reasons for this procedure. 12 First, because in this
science we undertake a universal consideration of truth, and so
we do not face merely a few particular questions, but must
inquire universally about the causes of all being and all know!12

St. Thomas, II Metaphya., lect. 1, nn. 848, SM.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

185

edge. In the second place, the questions which are here proposed are the chief ones on which philosophers have differed.
In his inquiry into truth Aristotle does not follow the same
method which was used by other philosophers. He begins with
sensory things, which are more manifest to us, and from these
proceeds to immaterial things; whereas other philosophers attempted to apply intelligible and abstract notions to sensory
things. Hence Aristotle preferred to list all the problems at
once, and to solve them later on in their proper order.
The problems which pertain to a science are of two kinds,
namely, problems of method and problems pertaining to the
things which we desire to learn in the science.13 In conformity
with the general rules of procedure given above, Aristotle lists
first the problems which pertain to method in this science, then
the problems concerning things which we desire to learn in
the science.
The general facts concerning scientific method and their
proper reasons are set forth in the organon or works on logic,
where the general requirements for scientific knowledge are
analyzed, and we are shown how in general we must proceed in
order to attain such knowledge. We think that we have
achieved scientific knowledge of somthing, in the sense of
genuine understanding, when we know the principles, causes or
elements of things. Scientific knowledge is there defined as
knowledge of the cause of something, knowing that it is the
cause of this and not of something else, and that it cannot be
otherwise. 14 Knowledge of this kind is had by demonstration,
that is, by reasoning from principles which are true, first and
immediate, prior and better known than the conclusion, and
causes of the conclusion.
This kind of knowing is developed from three elements,
which at each step must be previously known, namely, the
principles, the subject which we investigate, and the attributes
which can be demonstrated of the subject. 15 The principles are
11 Ibid., lect.
n. 846.
"Anal. Post. I, 71 b9.
16 Ibid., 76

136

WILLIAM H. KANE

of two classes, namely, general ones which hold for all subjects
of investigation, and special ones which hold for particular
subjects. Each subject for scientific investigation is in general
a supreme genus of things, and includes all its parts or species. 16
In order to demonstrate the attributes of a subject, we must
know that the principles which we employ are necessary truths,
and we must know not only that the subject exists but also
what it is, or what are its necessary causes, whether as a whole
or in part. The attributes which can be demonstrated of a
subject are the properties which belong to it by reason of its
essential causes. This knowledge of the necessary principles and
causes of a subject known as the necessary reasons for its
attributes is the end of goal or scientific investigation.
The method of a science is proportioned to the end intended
in the science. In a theoretical science, such as this one is, the
end intended is knowledge of the truth concerning the principles
and causes of the subject. The subject of a theoretical science
is something which is not made by man, but which has its own
principles and causes which can be known by us and through
which we can demonstrate the attributes of the subject, both
as a whole and in part. Therefore, the problems of method
are concerned with the determining of the subject as a whole
and in its parts, and with the principles which hold for the
subject, and the causes which can be used as middle terms in
demonstrating the attributes of the subject. Thus there are
two sets of problems concerning method, namely, problems
concerning that which determines the unity of the science as a
whole, that is, concerning the causes or middle terms used for
demonstrating, and concerning the subject itself with the principles which hold for it, and problems concerning that which
determines the parts or divisions of the science, which correspond to the parts of the subject.
The end or goal of scientific investigation is knowledge
of the principles and causes of the things which comprise the
subject. Concerning these there is another set of problems, 11
16

Ibid., 86 a37.

17

Ibid., 89 b!i!il.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

137

and we inquire first whether they are, then how they are, in
order that we might determine what they are, and so demonstrate their attributes and the attributes of the subject. Finally,
in view of the truth which we have determined, we can judge
of the difficulties which remain.

Aristotle's list of problems
The problems of metaphysics which Aristotle lists are concerned with the method and the content of the science. He
begins with problems concerning method, and inquires first
about that which concerns the unity of the science,
about
18
that which concerns the parts of the science. Next he lists
problems concerning the goal
our inquiry, asking
the
first principles and causes: whether they are and
they are
in truth, and in the opinion of others.
The problems concerning method are:
first,

the

science as a

L whether the investigation of the first causes belongs to one or
to more sciences,
)2. whether such a science should survey only the first principles
of substance, or also the first principles of all demonstrations,
3. whether one science deals with all substances, or more than
one,
4. whether all of these sciences are alike or are some of them
forms of wisdom, others something else;

second, those concerning the parts of the science:
5. whether sensible substances alone exist, or others also besides

them,
6. whether these others are of one kind, or are there several
classes of them,
7. whether our investigation is concerned only with substances
or also with their essential attributes,
'"Met. B, 995 b5.

138

WILLIAM H. KANE

8. whether we inquire into the general terms such as same and
other, prior and posterior, etc.,
9. whether we must inquire not only what each of these is but
also what are its attributes.

The problems concerning the goal of our inquiry are:
first, those concerned with the facts:
HI. whether the principles and elements of things are the genera
or the parts existing in each thing,
H. ·whether they are the remote or the proximate genera,
12. whether there is besides the matter anything that 1s a
cause in itself or not;
:1.3. whether this can exist apart from matter,
14. whether it is one or more in number,
15. whether there is anything apart from the concrete thing;

second, those concerned with their manner of existing:
16. whether the principles are limited in number and m
both the formal ones and the material ones,
17. whether the principles of perishable and imperishable things
are the same or different,
18. whether all the principles are imperishable, or those of perishable things are perishable,
19. whether unity and being are the substance of things or are
they attributes of something else-the hardest and most
perplexing of problems,
20. whether the principles are universals or like individual things,
21. whether they exist potentially or actually,
22. whether they are potential or actual in any other sense than
in reference to movement;

third, those concerned with the principles proposed by others:
23. whether numbers and lines and figures and points are a kind
of substance or not,
24. whether they are separate from sensible things or present in
them.

This list of problems can be arranged in outline as follows:

INTRODUCTION

139

TO METAPHYSICS
causes

relating to the unity of the scienco:
of method

/

/

'\.'\.
/

'

. 2-4
SUbJeCt

/substances

relating to the parts of the science :

/ /
Problems
'\.

'

l

/

'

5-6

attributes 7-9

universals 1 0-11
whether they are: /

'\.

'

'\.

of the principles

'\.

'

/
'\.

'\.

'

'

/

'

12-15

16-20

how they are: /

'

'\.

'

separate

one or many

"'\."'\.
mathematical

potency or act 21-22
/as substances 23

things:

'
The problems concerning method relate to the efficient and
as separate

24

formal causes of the science and to its subject matter. The
unity of the science is determined in the order of efficient
causality by the principles of demonstration, which include
knowledge of the causes of the subject as proper middle
terms, and in the order of formal causality by the proper
subject of investigation. The parts of the science are determined by the parts of the subject, that is, the subject matter.
The problems concerning the principles of things relate to the
final cause of the science: the end or purpose of our inquiry.

How the problems are solved
In :regard to all of these problems Aristotle admits that it is
hard not only to determine the truth but even to make dear
what the difficulties are. 19 These two things he attempts to do
in the pages which follow. First he considers each problem
dialectically, and manifests the difficulties which confront us in
one way or another. Then he develops the science of first
principles, this wisdom which we are seeking, according to the
canons of correct method and the requirements of the subject,
and he answers the difficulties in due course.
10

Ibid., 996 al5.

140

WILLIAM H. KANE

In order to
a science, we must first determine the
subject of scientific inquiry, that is, something which is knowable in a scientific way. A subject is knowable in a scientific
way if we can determine its necessary principles, causes or
elements, and can understand that these are the necessary
reasons for the attributes, whether of the principles themselves,
or of the subject, or of its parts.
Hence the first problems which must be solved are those
which are concerned with the subject of the science and the
subject matter; then the principles of demonstration and the
causes of the subject must be determined; finally, the attributes
of the principles themselves, and of the subject itself, and of its
parts, must be demonstrated, and any difficulty which remains
must be answered in view of the truth which has been determined.
Therefore, in developing the science which we are seeking,
Aristotle first determines the subject of inquiry and the subject
matter. 20 Since we are now seeking the first principles and
causes of things in general, not in particular, then there must
be something of which they are the first principles and causes,
that is, some effect which is proportioned to the first principles
and causes. This is not a particular kind of being, but being
in general, or being as being, which has first principles and
causes, yet is not itself the first cause or principle. Being as
being includes not only the primary instance, namely, substance, but also the proper attributes of substance, and anything which is called a being and said to be in respect to
substance as its primary subject. In this science we are
seeking the first principles and causes of substances in
general, whether sensory ones or not sensory, and of their
proper attributes, and so this science is distinct from other
sciences which treat of particular kinds and species of substances. For this reason it belongs to wisdom, not to any other
science, to treat of the axioms or basic principles of all our
knowledge. These principles of proof are related to everything
•• Met. G, 1008 a17.

INTRODUCTION

TO METAPHYSICS

141

that is, and so to being as being. Consequently, Aristotle proceeds to explain and defend these principles of understanding,
not by means of direct proofs, but by means of nominal definitions and indirect arguments. 21
In the next place, Aristotle defines the terms which are
employed in this science to signify not only the principles,
causes and elements, but also the subject, its parts and its
attributes. 22 There is special reason to consider the meanings
of words in this science, because it is the most universal science
and its terms are used in many different senses which must be
carefully distinguished and set in order if we wish to a void
confusion.
After solving these preliminary problems, Aristotle begins to
investigate the subject of the science. First he shows that the
subject of this science is distinct from the subjects of the other
sciences, whether theoretical or practical.Z 3 Here he admits
that if there is no substance other than those which are formed
by nature, then natural science will be the first science in
dignity; but if there is an immovable substance, the science of
this must be prior, and must be first philosophy. This is the
science which treats of being as being, and of the attributes
which belong to it as being. Then he distinguishes being as
being, together with all that is proper to it, from accidental
being and from being in the sense of being true, that is, logical
trutho These he dismisses, and then proceeds to treat of
being as being with the aim of determining its causes and
attributes.
First he considers the essence of sensory substance and its
definition in terms of genus and specific di:fference.24 Next he
considers the intrinsic principles of sensory substance, namely,
matter and form; 25 then potency and act; 26 and then demonstrates attributes of substance. 27
After this Aristotle reviews from natural science the things
Ibid., 1005 al8.
•• Met. D, IOH.! b34.
•• Met. E, 1025 b.
"'Met. Z, Hl£8 alO.

21

25 Met. H, 1042 a£4.
•• Met. Q, 1045 b35.
•• Met. I, 1052 al5.

142

WILLIAM H. KANE

which enable us to rise in thought from sensory things to the
immobile. 28 Then he investigates the first extrinsic causes of
being, namely, the immobile efficient and final causes. These
he seems to identify in the necessary principle which is at
once the unmoved mover, the necessary being and the necessary
good. 29 On such a principle, he says, depend the heavens and
the world of nature. 80 Here on the summit of thought Aristotle
pauses to gaze in admiration and to deduce some of the attributes of the first principle. Then he argues that there are other
immaterial substances with admirable attributes, and proceeds
to manifest the order of being as such to its own inner harmony
and to the first principle. Finally, he treats of mathematical
things, which other philosophers have held to be the fust
principles. These he admits are substances, but they do not
exist apart from sensory things.
WILLIAM

Albertus Magnus Lyceum for
Natural Science,
Dominican House of Studies,
River Forest, Illinois

•• Met. K, 1065 b5.
•• Met. L, 1072 bill.
•• Ibid., 1072 bl4.

H. KANE, 0. P.

TOWARD A THOMISTIC THEORY OF
SENSATION

W

HEN we investigate sense-intuition and interrogate
its implications to the end of determining the extent
of its contribution to our knowledge, we are not
isolating ourselves in a "fine point" of philosophical inquiry.
Such an investigation is as basic as it is subtle .. Profound stirrings in the areas of philosophy of nature and metaphysics
witness to this fact.
It is true that genuine physical theory, beyond certain
epistemological involvements, no longer has philosophical pretensions. It is no less true that this acceptance of more modest
boundaries does not begin to remedy positively the evil effects
sustained by philosophy of nature in its unfortunate combat
with the empirical sciences.1 There can be little doubt that a
crucial ground demanding rehabilitation is occupied by senseintuition.
Long in the service of an exclusively quantitative and
material analysis of objects, its role has been rigidly circumscribed. For the most part it has been reduced to registering
pointer readings. Constantly checked against mechanical devices and increasingly supplanted by them, its testimony is
neither expected nor desired to contribute positively to science
at this level. With the recognition of the radical insufficiency
of such knowledge, with the growing conviction that we have
here only the corpse of reality, there is an implied demand for
the restoration of a full, unimpeded natural activity to sense
experience. 2
Similarly, when some of our contemporary thinkers undertook the revindication of metaphysics, they found themselves
J. Maritain, Philosophy of Nature (New York, 1951).
• V. Smith, Philosophical Physics (New York, 1950).

1

143

144

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

forced to begin by repudiating the Kantian equation of a
priori and metaphysical knowledge. In thus opposing a " transcendental science " wherein ideas are altogether independent
of a sensory origin and exercise a constitutive function which
is in no way based upon the implications of perception, they
have been led to re-examine the crucial part played by this
initial moment of the knowledge act in a properly metaphysical
approach and procedure. 3
If, then, it is plain that a thorough reconsideration of sensation from every possible point of view is in order, it should
be equally obvious that such a study is vast in scope and in
need of data from many sciences. The present study does not
pretend to be exhaustive. It considers sensation only under the
aspect of its objectivity, 4 and this objectivity, in turn, only as
it is presented in a selection of texts from Aquinas and his
classical commentators.
However limited the area of this article may appear at first
within it is to be found
glance, there is reason to believe
that which is most basic to an adequate theory of sensation.
When we affirm objectivity, we implicitly affirm those epistemological and speculative values so conspicuous by their absence
in theories of knowledge whose point of departure is a rejection
of objectivity. Moreover, we find that the reasoning of St.
Thomas here, as in so many other instances, is a deep and
fruitful mine, the exploration of which should lead us toward a
true and comprehensive view of sensation in its relationship to
the total meaning of human knowing.
s J. Owens, "A Note on the Approach to Metaphysics," New Scholasticism,
XXVIII (4), 4.54-476.
• It must be noted that terms central to this discussion have suffered significant
alterations in meaning. Thus, objectivity, intuition, and experience are today
frequently regarded as having no reference to actual existents. Similarly, sensation
is sometimes used to indicate purely internal affections rather than awarenesses of
the external senses. If we are not to be hopelessly entangled in unresolvable
difficulties of communication, we must insist at the outset that these terms be given
their original and primary signification. Cf. L. Noel, Le Realisme lmmediat.
(Louvain, 1938), p. 205; F. Gregoire, "Notes sur les termes 'intuition' et 'experience,' " Revue Philosophique de Louvain XLIV (1946), 401-415; F. H. Heinemann,
"The Analysis of Experience," Philosophical Review, L (1941), 569; A. Hammond.
"On Sensation," ibid., L (1944), 260-285.

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

OBJECTIVITY

THEORY OF SENSATION

OF SENSATION

145

IN ST. THOMAS

Because we do not find an ex professo examination of this
question in Aquinas, we are forced to search out the relevant
texts and, from a study of them, seek to determine his position.
In establishing the order of this investigation, it was thought
best to follow the lead given us in the actual experience of
sensing. Such a procedure seems to avoid an arbitrary forcing
of the texts while yet establishing an essential unity. At the
same time it emphasizes an undeniable correspondence between
the doctrine of the Angelic Doctor and this irrefutable data.
Here, then, the significant moment appears to be that of the
actual impinging of the datum on the sensory organ. In this
contact, Aquinas sees the objective grounding of all human
knowledge. Immediately discovered in it is the object as
directly present and actually existing. We will consider first
this effectively exercised activity of the sense-object and, following this, its immediate presence, its objective constitution,
its actual existence.
When he defends (against Plato) the hylomorphic unity of
man, Aquinas lays out " certain ways by which human nature
might be saved." Within one of these" ways" we find a statement of singular significance for us. It is directed specifically
against the Platonic conception of the soul as mover and the
body as that which it moves. A consideration of the sensitive
soul in the act of sensing, observes St. Thomas, does not at
suggest such an agent-patient relationship. On the contrary,
sense exhibits itself as a passive power which must be initially
moved by an external stimulus. Thus he dearly affirms, in
close agreement with Aristotle, the specifying element of all
true sensations: the effectively exercised activity of an exterior
sensible on the sensorial organ. 5 The same doctrine is emphatically and unequivocally repeated elsewhere: " If the organ of
the sensing being is not moved by something outside, but by
6

11 Contra Gentiles, c. 57.

146

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

the imagination or some other higher power, there will not be a
true sensation." 6
It seems that we have here, in germ at least, the solution of
the problem which has anguished philosophy since the advent of
Descartes: do the senses attain real, objectively constituted
beings, or are they confined to images and subjective modifications of the soul? If the sense power is passive and only
actualized by an external stimulus here and now affecting it,
the objective and existential validity of this same excitant
would certainly appear to be assured.' In this very activity of
the sensibly qualified thing on the organ, do we not immediately
know it as existing, as directly present, as independent-in its
very action and existence-of the sensing subject?
Having seen the passivity of the sense power with respect to
its object, we are in a better position to understand the ground
of the distinction made by Aquinas between the act of sensing
and the acts of remembering or imagining: "Now it is proper
to sense to take cognizance of things present." 8 Obviously, for
an immediate physical activity of the datum on the organ
demands an immediate, physical presence. On the contrary, in
neither remembering 9 nor imagining 10 is the object present in
the here-and-now exercising of its existential act. Indeed, so
essential to the specification of the act of sensing is the actual,
direct presence of the object that John of St. Thomas-basing
himself solidly on the texts of his master-affirms it impossible,
• IV Sent., d. 44, q. 9, a. 1, sol. 3; cf. also Su·mma Theol., I, q. 76, a. 8; II de
Anima, lect. 12, 13.
7 This objective
validity is not incompatible with a certain relativity from the
viewpoint of quiddity or essence. Cf. Maritain, Les Degres du Savoir, 5th ed.
(Paris, 1946).
8 Summa Theol., I, q. 15, a. 2; cf. also q. 15, a. l; q. 35, a. l, ad
q. 14, a. 9;
q. 78, 4; De Verit., q. 3, a. 3, ad 8.
9 De Memoria et Reminiscentia, Lib.
Un., lect. 1, n. 306. "Ostendit quod
memoria non est praesentis; sed hoc dicit pertinere ad sensum, per quem neque
futurum, neque factum, id est praeteritum, cognoscimus, sed tantummodo praesens.

"
11 de Anima, lect. 6 ,n. 302. "Dicendum est igitur, quod animalia imperfecta,
ut in tertio dicetur, habent quidem phantasiam, sed indeterminatam, quia scilicet
motus phantasiae non remanet in eis post apprehensionem sensus; in animalibus
autem perfectis remanet motus phantasiae etiam abeuntibus sensibilibus."
10

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

THEORY OF SENSATION

147

even to the divine power, to cause a sensation in the absence of
an object. 11
Because the sense organ is actualized only by an actually
acting, present excitant, man cannot cause sensations at will.
Commenting on the De Anima of Aristotle, Aquinas notes as a
significant difference between scientific and sensitive knowledge
that we are able to consider the object of a science at pleasure
since we have it within ourselves, but that it is not in our power
to sense -a sensible object because such an object is not possessed
in this habitual manner. 12 If, then, man can in no way cause
true sensations, but is here rigorously dependent upon an
effective extra-subjective stimulus, it can only be that, in true
sensations, he is moved by what is objectively existing anci
objectively constituted. Now, inasmuch as human knowledge
takes its rise from sense-data, this suffices to ground it in
objectively existing things.
But are we able to say that a sensibly qualified thing here
and now affecting the sensorial organ assures us of the actual,
immediate presence of a being, a natura habens esse? Certainly
existing beings as existing are not the proper object of a sense
power. Must we not rather say, at most, that the intellect
deduces or infers the existence of real beings from sense data?
This is not the reasoning of Aquinas who, though distinguishing the powers of man, never morcellates man himself. Nowhere does the Angelic Doctor say that the senses alone know
their objects as existing, nor the intellect alone, either, for that
matter. In the De Veritate, he reminds us of a truth which
all simple men know, but which some philosophers forget:
properly speaking, it is neither the senses nor the intellect
which knows but man who knows through both of them. 13 It
is true that things as
are not properly the object of the
senses as such, but they are sensible per accidens: "When
we see someone speaking or moving, we, through our intellect,
apprehend him as living; hence, we are able to say that we see
11

John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., P. IV, q. 6, a. 1.

II de Anima, lect. 12, n. 375, 376.
13 De Verit., q. 2, a. 6, ad S.
10

148

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

him to live." 14 Now this apprehension comes about through
the cogitative power, or particular reason: " It belongs to the
cogitative sense to apprehend individuals as existing and as
endowed with a common nature. Such a knowledge is possible
only because of its intimate conjunction with the intellectual
faculty to which it is united in one and the same subject." 15
We cannot forget, therefore, that in us the act of sensing is
impregnated with intellectuality. Though analytically separable, they are functionally so continuous that no radical
cleavage can be effected between sense and intellect in the
actual exercise of human knowing. In sober truth, we must
say that we know, in the very act of sensing, the excitant
affecting the sensory organ "ut existens."
To attempt to compass within a few pages the profound
teaching of St. Thomas on the objectivity of sense-intuition
would be presumptuous in the extreme. We have merely tried
to sketch broadly what we believe to be the more fundamental
aspects of his position. However, by viewing his doctrine again
through the eyes of his classical commentators, we hope to
illuminate in greater detail his two precious insights: a) there
is given to us in the first shock of the sensible contact an ens.•
a thing known as existing: b) this existent is grasped immediately in an intuition at once sensible and intellectual. In
Cajetan we will find careful determinations specifying the
nature of this ens, and in John of St. Thomas an approfondissement of that intuitive act which apprehends it.
THE Primum

Cognitum IN CAJETAN

It is noteworthy that Aquinas fixes the proper object of
man's intellect neither above nor below his human status:
the proper object of our intellect is a nature having its "to
be" in a concrete particular. 16 If there are some scholastics who
confine the intelligence to a realm of existentially indifferent
"II de Anima, lect. IS, n. 896.
16 Ibid., n. 896.
10 Summa Tkeol., I, q. 84, a. 7, c.

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

THEORY OF SENSATION

149

essences, they have missed or ignored the Angelic Doctor's
fundamental realism. Cajetan, well-schooled in the mind of
his master, formulated this basic truth in a justly famous
phrase. That which man knows properly and first of all is
ens concretum quidditati sensibili. In the P1·oemium of his
commentary on the De Ente et Essentia, he carefully develops
its meaning.
There are three ways in which being may be known by us.
According to the first, termed by Cajetan "abstractio totalis," 17
we proceed
toward ens considered as being
in general, the most universal of predicates. Now, ens so
considered is, as it were, an all-embracing genus, which contains
implicitly everything that in any way is; hence, it is the least
specifying, least actual, and the least intelligible of all predicates. The reason is not hard to find. When, by remotion from
the specific actualities of things, we aim simply at a more and
more extensive visualization rather than at an essence or a
nature, we arrive only at a commou trait, an average. We may
abstract " rational animal," for example, from man in a simple
attempt to locate him in a larger class, or we may so abstract
"rational animal" as precisely attaining the type of being that
man specifically is, " the locus of intelligibilities " within him
which is the object of a science. Abstractio totalis corresponds
to the former act of thought that neglects those aspects (or,
better, inspects) which specify a nature. 18 This ens of abstractio
totalis, an ens of maximal vagueness, potency, and darkness,
is not the ens of the primum notum.
17 We note here a difference of terminology between Cajetan and the doctrine of
Aquinas as stated in the De Trinitate, (q. 5, a. 8.). The abstractio totalis spoken
of here is pre-scientific and, common to all sciences, it specifies none. The abstractio totius mentioned in the De Trinitate as proper to the first order of
abstractive visualization, Cajetan includes within the abstractio formalis, for this
is a scientific abstraction properly so-called. Cf. Maritain, Philosophy of Nature
(New York), pp. 1£-24.
18 Cajetan,
De Ente et Essentia, p. 7. "llla autem abstractio non fit per considerationem alicujus quod sit de ratione materiae, et non per considerationem
alicujus, quod sit de illius ratione: sed potius fit per separationem eorum, quae
suut de ratione formalis, ab his quae sunt de ratione materialis."

150

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

There is a second way of knowing being arrived at by an
abstraction which Cajetan terms "abstractio formalis." Here
we proceed actuality-wise, aiming ever at the ratio of a thing.
According to the degrees of this type of abstraction the sciences
differ, for this is truly scientific visualization. Its direction is
toward maximal ·specificity, actuality, and intelligibility. But
this, again, is not the ens of the primum notum. 19
If the ens concretum quidditati sensibili is neither the ens
of abstractio totalis nor the ens of abstractio formalis, what
is it? Cajetan answers that it ought now to be clear. Grasped in
an act which is neither an abstractive isolating of its quiddity
nor an abstractive remotion in the direction of a general class,
this being is seen as immediately inscribed in and entirely
enveloping the concrete particular. Though no phase or part of
the sensible thing prescinds from it, it cannot be said to belong
to it on the grounds of its very particularity. Were this so,
it could not ,be found (as it is found) in each and every object
of experience. Here three important precisions must be noted:
the ens which is first given to the intellect is seen in the thing,
but not as a partial view. It includes the totality, all that in
it is.20 (The totality in question is, of course, an actual whole,
an existing being, not a universal or virtual whole.) Finally,
this global knowledge is vague rather than clear. We have here,
then, an analogical ens which, in this concrete realization, includes inchoatively the ens of metaphysics.
Gilson pays tribute to the classical formula of Cajetan, but
he remarks that ens concretum quidditati sensibili does not
do full justice to immediate realism, for " it is the concrete
sensible itself which is known as being." 21 Before examining
this observation, it seems necessary to point out a basic agreement: the ens of which Cajetan speaks is not something other
19 This is not to imply that the ens attained in abstractio formalis is not derived
from the primum notum, but that the latter contains the former inchoatively and
not as abstracted.
2 ° Cajetan, loc. cit., p. 7. " ... non est separatum
aliqua dictarum abstractionum
a quidditate specifica vel generica."
•• Etienne Gilson, L'etre et L'essence (Paris, 1948), p. 295.

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

THEORY OF SENSATION

151

than the concrete sensible to which Gilson :refers" In the
Proemium, as we have noted in the preceding paragraph,
Cajetan dearly affirms that the object of our first concept is
an actual beingo22 Moreover, it is the totality of that actual
being, substance and accidents together, that is grasped as
being in this initial acL 23 Hence, a careful reading of Cajetan
:reveals the ens of the primum cognitum as the subject of that
perceptual judgment in which, as Gilson rightly insists, the
concrete _sensible itself is known as being"
What, then, does the French Thomist find wanting in this
phrase which he nevertheless acknowledges as" justly famous"?
It would seem that he fears a possible misreading, a misreading
encouraged, perhaps, by the formula itself and aided, too, by
our natural bent toward a kind of "spatialized thinking"" We
might, for example, consider this ens as a kind of substrate
underlying the concrete quiddity or regard it as contained in
sensible trappings somewhat as a gem is enclosed in a box"
The error here is the failure to include the thing in its total
actuality within being, an error against which Cajetan was, as
we have seen, careful to secure himself" To cast a doubt upon
the ontological content of the accidental determinations of
beings given in experience is to imperil immediate realism
itself" Inasmuch as Gilson forces us to take account of the
precisions by which Cajetan himself clarifies the meaning of this
phrase, he contributes in no small measure to a proper understanding of it. If, however, we view it within its context in the
Proemium, the danger of a misinterpretation seems slight and
the formula loses little, if any, of its excellence"

22 Cajetan,
loc. cit., pp. 7-9. In opposition to the view of Scotus that the ens
of an actual being cannot be known vaguely but distinctly only, Cajetan affirms
as the ratio of this intellectual act: "quod intellectus feratur in objectum secundum
id quod actualiter in eo, non penetrando ipsum."
23 Ibid., " ... quandocumque
intellectus, fertur in ens actualiter ipsum concipiendo
et nesciendo separare ens a substantia et accidente, habet de ente cognitionem
confusam actualem."

152

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

SENSE-INTUITION

AND JOHN OF ST. THOMAS

With John of St. Thomas as guide, we hope to bring together
at this point the doctrine of Aquinas on the objectivity of sense
intuition and Cajetan's reflections on the primum cognitum.
The specfic contribution of the Portugese Dominican seems to
invite such an effort, for he clearly affirms: a) the unique,
indispensable role of the sense in directly, physically contacting
the ens concretum; b) the precise nature of that intuition by
which we grasp in their very act of existing the realities present
to sense.
John of St. Thomas so translates the classic phrase of Cajetan
as to leave no doubt regarding its particular, concrete reference.
We are not speaking here of an abstracted ens, but ens " as
concretized and inscribed in some determinate thing." 24 Now,
what is it that is first of all known in this concrete totality? It
is neither this singular precisely as singular nor its nature precisely as a quiddity. To say that the particular thing is known
qua particular is to confuse the proper objects of sense and
intellect. 25 But if ens concretum is not known as the senses
alone would know it, i.e., singularly, neither is it known as
the intellect alone would know it, i.e., quidditatively. In grasping the particular sensible, the intellect " does not prescind from
its quiddity (for this is impossible), but it does not know it
by penetrating its inner constitution and the causes of its
being." 26 Having excluded both a merely sensitive and a purely
intellectual grasp of the primum cognitum, we have but one
alternative, an alternative which is, happily, in perfect agreement with the testimony of conscious experience.
In its first thrust, the concrete particular is known only with
respect to whether it is (quoad an est) , and this is to know it
in that which is common to it in its singularity and in its
nature. 27 Simultaneously and inseparably one, both sense and
John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., P. I, q. 1, a. 3.
•• Ibid.
•• Ibid.
27 Ibid., "Hoc autem est cognoscere aliquid commune ipsi singulari et ipsi naturae;

24

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

THEORY OF SENSATION

158

intellect come into play here: sense, for without it no contact
with particular existents is possible; 28 intellect, for " to be "
will always escape the sense power considered only in its proper
activity. Within the indissoluble unity of this act, it is possible,
nevertheless, to signalize the crucial role of sense-intuition.
John of St. Thomas has, in fact, emphatically done so. He
seems to have deeply realized the urgency of paralleling
Cajetan's ens concreturn quidditati sensibili on the side of
being with a cognitio concreta sensationi on the side of knowledge.29 With vigorous insistence, he reaffirms the objectivity of
sensation. More than this, inasmuch as a purely sensible intuition can neither explain our knowledge of particulars as existing nor ground experimentally our intellectual knowledge, he
further specifies the nature of this intuition as not merely
sensitive but quasi-intellectual. 30
Ordinarily it is said that a sensation is impossible if the
species impressa should fail, for any reason, to inform the
organ. Properly understood, this would seem to be a sufficiently
accurate statement,
species radicaHy depends upon the
object both in its coming to be and in its preservation. By
a simple process of elimination we may arrive at this fact. A
species may be expelled: a) by a supervening contrary, b) by
a defect of the organ, c) by a removal of the object. The first
is impossible because intentional species lack cont:raries/ 1 the
second is eliminated automatically because we here presuppose
the integrity of the organ in the sensing subject. Hence, i.t can
only be that the removal
the object is the direct and
de utroque enim datur cognitio quoad an est, et sic ipsum esse sen an est ut concretum seu applicaturn alieni singnlari sensibili erit prirnum cognitum intellectus."
28 11 de Anima, lect. 12, n. 376. " ... quia etiam .sensibilia aunt de numero
singularium, et eorum quae sunt extra anirnam .... "
29 Gerard
Smith. "A Date in the History of Epistemology," The Maritain
Volu1ne of THE THOMIST (1934), p. 254.
30 John of St. Thomas, Log. II, q. £3, a. l. "In sent.entia divi Thomae intellectus
non habet speciem directam singularium, et tamen potest res singulares corporeas
intuitive videre, quando sunt praesentes per sensum."
"'John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat. P. IV, q. 6, a. 1. " ... species intentionales
carent contrario, simul enim informant potentiam species albi et nigri, calidi et
frigidi, odoris suavis et insuavis, aliquidem haec sirnul sentiri videmus."

154

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

immediate cause of the removal of the species. Continuous,
immediate experience ratifies this fact. When the car just ahead
of us passes over the hill, we no longer see it; when the singer
finishes his song, we no longer hear it. Even in the event of a
collision at some distance from us and whose sound reaches us
only after a slight interval, it remains true that the real
movement of the air continues, informing the organ so that it
is an actual, present noise that we hear. It can be asserted
without qualification, therefore, that a presence of the species
is equivalent to a presence of the object, and a removal of the
object inevitably involves a vanishing of the species.32
Although it is correct to say that an object cannot be sensed
in the absence of its species, an important clarification is demanded at this point. Granted that, naturally speaking, a
real presence of the object is required as immediately causing
the species, is it not possible to the divine power to conserve
the species miraculously, even in the absence of an object? The
fact that it depends upon an actual being for its existence
would seem to present no particular difficulty, for God who is
the lpsum Esse Subsistens is certainly able to supply it even
in the absence of a real being. John of St. Thomas does not
hesitate to say that this is not possible, not even to the divine
omnipotence. When the external sense truly and properly elicits
its act, it does not suffice that the species should be in the sense
representing something as present; it is required that the object
itself be present as terminating the act. 83 It is to be noted that
the species impressa does not terminate the act of sensing; in
the object alone which has its" to be" outside the one seeing,34
every genuine sensation must be resolved: "Because it is from
•• Ibid., " ... remota obiecto, species evanescunt et cognitio cessat."
•• Ibid., " Loquimur ergo quando sensus exterior vere et proprie elicit actum; et
de hoc dicimus essentialiter postulare, quod obiectum exterius, in quod fertur, sit
praesens physice, in quod talis actus immediate terminetur, nee sufficit quod species
sit in sensu repraesentans aliquid ut praesens, sed requiritur quod ipsum obiectum
praesens sit, ut terminet actum."
•• John of St. Thomas here recalls the teaching of Aquinas (Summa Theol., I,
q. 14, a. 9). God cannot he said to have vision of possible things "because those
things which are seen have their ' to be ' outside the one seeing."

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

THEORY OF SENSATION

155

these objects that all our knowledge takes its rise and in them
that it is finally resolved, it must be that the external senses
are first moved by these objects in receiving from them their
species and that, in these same objects, knowledge should
finally be terminated." 35 Here we note two moments, as it
were, within the act of sensing: the first, a producing of the
species in the sense, is assuredly possible to the divine power;
with respect to the production of the species, the senses do not
essentially demand the presence of the object. 86 The second,
however, pertains to the very specification or ratio of sensation
and, hence, cannot be supplied even by the divine omnipotence.87
The rigorous necessity of the real, physical presence of an
object to terminate the act of sensation results from a two-fold
condition: a) the external senses are ultimate among our cognitive powers and, as such, are the only source of experiential
knowledge for us; 38 either we contact real beings through them,
or we can never contact them at all; b) it is only in experience
that our intellectual knowledge can be resolved; thus, this
resolution in things themselves is the unique source of certitude
in the human order of knowing. 39 Lest, however, we believe him
to be merely postulating to save what must, at all costs, be
saved, he invokes the compelling testimony of experience. If
the presence of the object were not required, we could taste our
food without touching it, and we could see as well in darkness
as in light. To say such things, he remarks, is absurd, and with
that he leaves the matter. 40
•• John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., P. IV, q. 6, a. 1.

•• Ibid., ". . . moveri ab obiectis et procedere ab ipsis species effective, possit
suppleri a Deo infundente vel producente speciem in potentiis loco obiecti. . . ."
37 Ibid., " ... quod secundum suppleri non potest, quia pertinet ad specificativam
rationem sensationis externae quatenus extra est."
88 He is not speaking here of angelic knowledge which does not demand such a
reaolutio in things themselves: " Cum autem angelus certificetur per species desuper
infusas, non habet experientiam de re quantum ad certitudinem cognitionis per
resolutionem in ipsam rem."
•• John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., P. IV, q. 6, a. 1.
•• Ibid., ". . . si remoto obiecto externo posset sensus illud percipere, ergo posset

156

SISTER M. ALOYSIUS

It would seem that the last word has been said. In view of
the representationism initiated by Descartes, his contemporary,
it is well for us that the great Dominican commentator considered the further question: do not the external senses form
an image, a species expressa, that they might know their
objects? 41 Although there is no necessity on the part of the
object (i. e., it is neither absent nor immaterial) , it would seem
that the act itself, considered as such, ought to have a terminus.
To this bit of seeming, John of St. Thomas opposes the text of
Aquinas in the Contra Gentiles which points clearly to the
immanent nature of this act. 42 The ratio of the act of sensing
in no way demands a terminus beyond itself, for it is not a
transitive action at all. The fundamental reason, however,
which determines us here to a decidedly negative answer has
already been adduced in other contexts, directed always to the
saving of human knowledge from the same dead end. 43 There
can be no mistaking it. What is at stake here is the ultimate
validity of all our knowledge. If the object is not immediately
attained here, it is simply not attainable by us.
If we grant that the external senses terminate directly in
things themselves, must we not still ask how a purely sensible
intuition can possibly suffice to ground all our knowledge? On
the other hand, if intellectual cognition commences only with
the concept, can we say that all our knowledge is ultimately
grounded in experiential cognition? John of St. Thomas does
not hesitate to make this latter claim/ 4 nor does he shrink from
speaking here of a quasi-intellectual intuition terminating in
real beings by means of sensation. 45 This is the only intuitive
oculos in tenebri videre et posset gustus et tactus obiectum non contactum sentire,
quae omnia absurda sunt."
"John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., P.·IV, q. 6, a. 4.
•• I Cont. Gent., c. 100. " Dico autem operationem in ipso manentem per quam
non fit aliud praeter ipsam operationem sicut videre et audire .... "
•• John of St. Thomas, Phil. Nat., P. IV, q. 6, a. 4. " ... quia cognitio sensitiva
essentialiter est experimentalis, experientia deducta ab ipsis obiectis et ex motione
eorum in sensus. De ratione autem talis cognitionis est, ut in illam ultimate
resolvatur omnia nostra cognitio utpote ab ipso inchoata."
UJbid,
•• John of St,
Log. II, q. 28, a. 2.

TOWARD A THOMISTIC

THEORY OF SENSATION

157

intellection accessible to us. 46 Experience everywhere and·
always affirms it as a fact, and abstract knowledge demands it
as its alpha and omega, if it is to be something more than a
dream. 47
SISTER M. ALOYSIUS, s. s. J.
Nazareth College
Nazareth, Michigan

•• The a priori intuition postulated of human knowledge by Kant is ascribed to
angelic spirits by John of St. Thomas. He notes, also, a misinterpretation of
Cajetan which would deny the intuitive character of all knowledge involving 11
species or verbum. cf. Phil. Nat.
" When John of St. Thomas undertakes the experiential validation of our
intellectual knowledge, he does so by intimately relating two classical Thomist
doctrines: the indirect knowledge of the singular and the conversio ad phantasmata.
"Licet intellectus noster non habeat speciem impressam directe repraesentantem
singulare, habet tamen ex adjuncto ordine et rejlexione ad phantasma conceptum
proprie repraesentantem illud . . . et hoc sufficit ut dicatur habere notitiam
intuitivam rei praesentis." (Log. II, q. 23, a. 2.)

THE PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY AND THE
STABILITY
CIVILIZATIONS

M

y purpose is to examine philosophically the cycles of

growth and decline of past civilizations in order to see
what it is that has prevented these societies from
being stable, and to discover the means that would cause a
civilization to be stabilized in its growth. The reader will see
that the essay is based on the studies of the problem made by
Professor Toynbee. He has shown convincingly in the latest
volumes of his Study of History that there are no laws of
historical cycles by which mankind is inexorably bound to live
through one civilization after another, that is, to undergo one
such historical cycle after another. 1 He does not, however,
definitely answer the question as to the source of regularities
in the history of civilizations. Instead, using the terminology
of C. G. Jung, he mentions the possibility that cyclical" laws"
of history may be imbedded in the collective unconscious of
man. 2 Consequently, he does not propose as definite a solution
as he might to the problem of cycles.
In carrying the work of Professor Toynbee further in these
pages, I take the opportunity of utilizing the philosophy of
history as I understand it. At the beginning I describe what the
philosophy of history seems to be to me and then I apply it to
the problem. In turn, the analysis of the question of cultural
stability enables me, in the last pages, to clarify further the
nature of the philosophy of history. The reader will find that
my view of the philosophy of history is decidedly ethical and
that the virtues and their derivatives occupy the central place
1 A. J. Toynbee, A Study of History
(Oxford, 1984, vols. i-iii, 1989, vols. iv-vi,
1958, vols. vii-x), Vol. IX, pp. 888 ff.: "Are Laws of Nature Current in History
Inexorable or Controllable? "
• Ibid., pp. 8fl8 ff.

158

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

159

in the scheme. My theories on the philosophy of history have
been caused in part by the work of Professor Toynbee. Yet
he is, as he has told me, an historian, not a philosopher by
training, and the profound and obscure philosophy of history
that lies in his work is the result, not of philosophical speculation, but of humane and empirical study of history, characterized by a deep religiousness. I think the philosophy of
history, described philosophically below, secundum quid, is
a continuance of that of Professor Toynbee. The definitely
Christian and Catholic orientation of my theory is opposed to
the indefiniteness of his religious views, but that does not
prevent mine from being the continuance of his philosophy.
In using the term civilization, I am taking a word which
was not used until the eighteenth century and, like the term
culture, did not signify" society" until the nineteenth century. 3
.But I do not use the term, civilization, in a special sense which
would distinguish between a civilization and a culture; rather,
I follow the usage of Professors Maritain and Toynbee, who
prefer to make the two terms synonymous. The words, civilization and culture, do not only indicate a special quality of a
society or commonwealth, but also signify the general society
or commonwealth itself. 4 It seems to be more faithful to the
way in which the facts of history really happen to assert the
identity of culture and civilization instead of any difference
between them.

I.

THE NEED

FOR PHILOSOPHY

OF HISTORY

The philosophy of history, as I understand it, is the fourth
part of a " quadrumvirate " of four ethical disciplines, M onastica (personal ethics) , Oeconomica (domestic ethics) , Politica
(political ethics), and Histmica (cultural ethics). I assume
3 Cf. civility, civilization and culture in:
A New English Dictionary on Historical
Principles, edited by J. A. H. Murray (Oxford, 1893), Vol. HI.
• A Study of History, Vol. HI, p. Q2l n. 3; J. Maritain, True Humanism, trans.
M. R. Adamson (London, 1950), p. 88. However, it is important to distinguish
between what Professor P. A. Sorokin calls the "meaningful" and the (efficient)
" causal " aspects of the civilization; or between what he also terms the " cultural

160

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

that, just as the ethical training of a person in regard to
personal matters needs to be supplemented by training in the
domestic and the civil virtues, so too, the ethical training of an
individual in civil matters needs to be fulfilled by a training
in the cultural virtues. Sanctity can express itself not only
in personal, domestic and political courage (say, that of
patriotism) , but also in a cultural courage. That is to say,
there is the good of the state beyond one's private good, and
there is the good of the civilization or culture above and beyond
the good of the state. Though a person may possess piety in
the line of patriotism, he may be vicious in respect to the culture
and civilization of which his parochial state is only a part. 5 I
call this ethical point of view a philosophy of history; it is not
exactly a philosophy of politics, and it is a philosophical fulfillment of the study of history. Political science is traditionally
limited to the study of a small part of history, and it is universally separated from history in the division of departments in
the liberal arts college. It is not unreasonable, on the face of
it, to look for a philosophy which especially fulfills the study of
history.

A. The Amplitude of Philosophy of History
Historica, the philosophy of history I have referred to, is
partially a science of politics, having for its object the culture
or civilization instead of the national state. Yet, though it is
in part political, there comes to mind a number of reasons why
Historica might well have a distinct place alongside of lJf onastica, Oeconomica and Politica in a general division of ethics.
and social systems," Sorokin, Social Philosophies of an Age of Crisis (Boston, 1951),
p. 205; or between what Professor J. Maritain calls the "community " and the
"society "-Man and the State (Univ. Chicago, 1951), p. 27---or between what
may be termed " order " and " jurisdiction."
6 The late Professor N. Berdyaev has expressed this moral pointedly:
"No one
can ever clearly explain and justify the fact that. undoubted vice and sins in an
individual person-pride, self-conceit, egoism, cupidity, hatred, blood-thirstiness,
brutality, lying and theft should assume the appearance of virtues and gallantry in
the state and nation, nor can any one justify their doing so." Slavery and Freedom,
trans. R. M. French (London, 1948), p. 142.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

161

First, it distinguishes between the virtues of a citb;en as such
and the virtues of the person inasmuch as he participates in a
community that is less tangible, more noble and more complex
than a national, provincial or municipal state; that is, it distinguishes between what I term the political virtues and the
cultural virtues. The cultural virtues, to speak only philosophically, are those grouped around charity and the four
cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude and temperance,
and particularly the higher virtues which are associated with
justice, such as religion and piety. 6 If cultural ethics were
simply made part of politics (as it is in Plato's Laws), then
:religion would be ordered under politics. In a Christian society
this outlook would tend toward a caesaro-papism not unlike
that which has plagued Eastern Orthodox Christianity.
Cultural virtues, as I understand them, have the culture for
their object; and I mean by culture the synthesis of economic,
social, political, artistic and philosophical things that pertain
to a civilization, all of which are more or less vitalized and
coordinated by at least a natural religiousness. 7 As a matter
of fact, no higher culture or civilization has ever achieved its
cultural accomplishments and perfections in any duration less
than several hundreds of years. Further, as a matter of fact,
" St. Thomas Aquinas makes a detailed analysis of the virtues "potentially
included in justice " (those named by Cicero, religion, piety, gratitude, revenge,
observance, truth), Summa Theologiae II-II, qq. 80-103.
7 Even the virtue of religion itself has cultural
matters for its object, although
God is its end. St. Thomas says concerning the virtue of religion: "Now due
worship is paid to God, insofar as certain acts whereby God is worshipped, such as
the offering of sacrifices and so forth, are done out of reverence for God. Hence it
is evident that God is related to religion not as matter or object but as end; and
consequently religion is not a theological virtue whose object is the last end, but
a moral virtue which is properly about things referred to the end." ( op. cit.,
H-II, q. 81, a. 6 corpus.) As Holy Scripture says: "the sons of Israel all alike
began making their contributions to the Lord with readiness and devotion of heart."
Matthew 18 : 20. Insofar as it is cultural, religion is the cultural virtue par
excellence. Non orans privatur optatis, ,,icut negligens cultor, privatur fructu agri:
(Annotation, Summa Theologiae, II-II, q. 83, a. 1, n. l Marietti Edition, 1948)
and this may be understood in a natural sense as well as supernatural like sacrifice:
oblatio sacrificii pertinet ad ius naturale (op. cit., q. 85, a. 1.), the obligation of
sacrifice is an obligation of natural law as well as divine law.

162

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

no higher civilization has ever manifested itself in any society
which was not formed of many more or less autonomous states.
Consequently, the understanding of the nature of culture presupposes an historical study of culture. The philosophical
knowledge of a cultural ideal (a complete culture) must include
temporal and spatial knowledge in somewhat the same sense
that a philosophical study of human nature must contain
references to " before and after " or " here and there " in the
spiritual and bodily functions of man in his span of earthly
life. Such a cultural ideal (a complete culture or civilization of
indeterminate duration) is the object of the cultural virtues and
vices. This is exactly the reason why the definitions of the
cultural virtues and vices have a temporal and social, as well
as spiritual, amplitude not to be found in the personal and
political virtues and vices.
Let me give an example of a vice. Besides the untoward
rivalries and envies which happen on a strictly political level,
there are envies which occur on a cultural level. Thus Professor
Jung has said that the two schools of philosophy, the Cynics
and the Megarians, manifested a widespread envy of everything
that Plato and his kind held sacred. 8 Besides the envy of a
less cultured society which the Megarians evinced for their
conquerors, the Athenians, there was also the envy of the
Cynics, the followers of Antisthenes, the proletarian and nominalist,-an envy shown for the culture Plato had lived and
taught. Illustrated here are two commonplace occurrences of
cultural envy: that assumed by a political state for a finer
commonwealth and that imbibed by a social class for a superior
society. Shown also are two consequences of the vice: the
division between member states of the civilization and the
schism between social classes.
Second, the historicaJ and temporal breadth of outlook in
philosophy of history far exceeds that traditionally found in
political theory. 9 Indeed, the philosophy of history looks not
8 C. G. Jung, Psychological Types (London, 1946), pp. 38-50.
• Professor E. Voegelin, in his book, The New Science of Politics (Chicago,
1952), p. 1, although asserting the distinction between a theory of politics and a

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

01<' CIVILIZATIONS

163

only past the good of the national state to that of the civilization, but also past the good of any one planned civilization.
Ultimately, it looks to the cultural good of all humanity, the
most universal human good on the natural or profane level, and
points to, seeks to be fulfilled in, a still higher domain where
it cannot enter as pure philosophy; namely, the domain of the
Civitas Dei, of which temporal society might be a province or
suburb. Third, such an ethical doctrine has a good deal in
common both with the assertions of some famous philosophers
of history and with the findings of eminent historians. There
is, for example, a dependence upon a comparative study of
civilizations in this cultural ethics as there is likewise, in other
studies and philosophies of history. Examples may be found
in the philosophies of Vico and Spengler, both of whom have
abstracted the characteristics common to several civilizations. 10
Fourth, to the degree that it finds guiding and ordering principles common to historians, it provides a guidance and order
for the writing of history (that is, the political and social history
which is ordinarily taught in colleges). I do not mean that the
philosophy should replace the facts as the source of historical
knowledge. 11 But, incidentally, it brings under the light of
philosophic reason those more or less hidden presuppositions,
intentions and urges that motivate the work of historians. For
theory of history, has stressed the unity of one with the other. "The existence of
man in political society is historical existence; and a theory of politics, if it
penetrates to principles, must at the same time be a theory of history .... An
inquiry concerning (political societies as representatives of a transcendent truth), if
its theoretical implications are unfolded consistently, will in fact become a philosophy
of history."
1 ° Cf. G. Vico, The New Science of Giambattista
Vico, trans. T. G. Bergin and
M. H. Fisch (Cornell Univ., 1948), pp. 313 ff., nn. 947 ff; 0. Spengler The Decline
of the West, trans. C. F. Atkinson (New York, 1939), Tables, pp. 429 ff.
11 Historians
point out that a personal set of values does influence historical
writings. But the historian's philosophy of life and his values do not
the.
historical facts and sequence of events from directing his historical account of
"wie es eigentlich gewesen" (Ranke). For example, Professor M. Mandelbaum
has " shown that regardless of the theory of values one accepts it is fallacious to
hold valuational judgments determine the content of historical knowledge." 'l'he
Problem of Historical Knowledge ( New York, 1938), pp. 190 ff.

164

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

example an "historical fact" has essentially a cultural quality
and philosophy can clarify this.

B. The Inadequacy of Historical Science
The teaching of social and political history through the media
of lecturing in the classroom and publishing in the literary world
fails to achieve its purpose unaided, namely, that of correcting
the present under the guidance of the past. The trouble for
the common man has lain in the unassimilability of the vast
amount of details, public events and human relations which
have shaped the explanation and narrative of historians. For
the ordinary man, the contingencies of private life and of life
under the laws and customs of a state present no great difficulty.
Each person has his outlook; he knows on the whole what a just,
honorable course of conduct is. But it is quite otherwise with
the comprehensive relations that history has to do with. Social
and political historians, whatever their ultimate purposes were,
have-if conscientious-mirrored in their own works the complexity of historical events. If a philosopher of history were to
use the method of the historian, his philosophy would fail to
reveal dearly or teach effectively the ethical lessons of the
past because it would be too erudite in history. A man acting
as historian and philosopher, led by the very generality of his
outlook, would impose a tremendous burden of erudition on the
student of his philosophy, an imposition which the ordinary
man is incapable of receiving. It follows, therefore, that social
and political history itself, with all the attention it must
faithfully give to the significant concrete historical facts, cannot be a satisfactory substitute for philosophy of history. Even
in the hands of the philosopher, the method of history defeats
the purpose of philosophy,

II.

THE SouRcE OF HIST9RICAL DEcLINES

The philosophy of history is immediately concerned with the
good of civilization and with the moral virtues (and vices)
that pertain to it. But, as a matter of fact, the outstanding

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

165

problem of this study at the present day is the question: how
can Western (or any other) Civilization avoid the decline
and death that his been the fate of many preceding cultures?
The question is more trenchant in the degree that mankind has
the power to kill itself universally by means of atomic bombs.
The obvious fact of growth, decline and fall that has occurred in
several civilizations in the past can be expressed by the term,
" historical cycles." Then, I may state the problem: what can
the Christian philosopher do to break and end the succession
of historical cycles in which past civilizations have declined
and fallen? For if, as St. Augustine says, this world is a school
house, not a treadmill (ergastulum) / 2 then these historical
cycles belong neither to the divine nor the human order. They
would seem to have deficient being; in themselves they seem to
be evil. Yet, so compelling is their presence in history that the
ancient Greeks and Romans, taking a lesson from the physical
world, universally argued that the spiritual and political world
of man is eternally subject to its own cycles. As for us, like
the ancients, we are faced with the stubborn fact of the past
existence of historical cycles. If the philosophy of history that
I have been describing, and if the cultural virtues which I
mentioned, can truly serve the good of a civilization, the first
problems to which this philosophy must address itself are those
of the source, prevention and cure of historical cycles.

A. The Nature of Historical Cycles
The morphology of higher cultures or civilizations, in particular the similar movements of growth and decline in different
civilizations, has been studied extensively in modern and contemporary times. Professor Toynbee, in his Study of History/ 3
having eliminated some 600 primitive societies, enumerates 21
distinct civilizations in historical times, of which five survive
today, 14 and he has discovered certain characteristic activities
St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei, Bk. 21, Chap. 15.
Toynbee, op. cit.
" Ibid., Vol. IX, p. 189 n.
12

13

166

DAVID Eo RICHARDSON

and catastrophies which have been common to many fallen
civilizations. At the risk of trying the patience of the reader I
will present some pertinent findings of Toynbee; it is necessary
for me to do this because it makes possible the discovery of
the source of historical cycles. 15
If we study the history of past civilizations we can note the
following: After several hundred years young civilizations enter
upon a" time of troubles," which is characterized especially by
the advent of unusually great wars; again, after 400 years more
the disintegration of a civilization has proceeded to such a
point that it succumbs to the rule of one "universal state " in
which certain cultural bonds holding the civilization intact are
replaced by the military bonds of a more or less benevolent
despot. After 400 more years the moribund civilization often
loses its self-identity and often disappears. The process of
disintegration, from the beginning of the time of troubles, is
marked by a well-spaced succession of historical catastrophies;
the most obvious events are the extreme destructions of war.
For example, in the Hellenic (both Greek and Roman) Civilization, the Atheno- Peloponnesian War instituted a time of
troubles, and the Roman civil wars of the first century B. C.
terminated the troubles in a universal state. These catastrophic
events are called routs or relapses, and they are followed by
historical acts of partial regeneration which are called rallies.
There have been an equal number of routs and rallies in the
civilizations which have fallen; the number is st the last
relapse, that of the death agony of the universal state, not
being followed by a rally. Fallen civilizations have had two
main periods, one of social growth and one of social disintegration; and the period of disintegration has had two parts, the
first, the time of troubles and the second, the age of the universal state. Empirical study reveals that in the fallen civilizations each (if not cut off by an alien intruder) has taken
15 For the remainder
of the paragraph following, except where indicated, I draw
upon the summary ("Argument")
of Toynbee's Study, presented by D. C.
Somervell and A. J. Toynbee: A Study of History, Abridgement of Volumes 1-Vl
(New York. 1947), pp. 567-589.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

167

nearly exactly 400 years to run out a time of troubles and an
additional 400 years to go through the period of the universal
state. 16
For example, the Solonian economic revolution in Athens
had produced in the eighth and seventh centuries R C. a commercial economy in the Hellenic city-states. The political
isolation of the individual member states of the civilization was
made unfeasible by their new economic interdependence. The
effort to transcend the city-state political sovereignty and
isolation provoked extreme resistance and this ensued in the
breakdown of the civilization. 17
In the Hellenic Civilization this first :rout occurred 481 B. C.,
the time of the outbreak of the Atheno-Peloponnesian War.
The first rally consisted in the attempts, in the 50 years prior to
the Hannibalic War in 218 B. C., to reinvigorate and unify
politically the civilization. The first relapse occurred during the
century of castastrophic warfare between Rome and other
states and within the Roman Commonwealth (218-31 B. C.) .
The rule
Augustus, a second "' rally " established a universal
state. 400 years had elapsed between 481 and 31 B. C. A third
relapse of the Hellenic Civilization occurred in the collapse
after the death of Marcus Aurelius in A. D. 180. The last
"rally" began with the accession of Diocletian in A. D. 284,
and the final collapse of the civilization ensued in A. D. 378,
About 400 years had elapsed between 31 B. C. and A. D. 378.
3} beats of routs and rallies measured the decline of the culture
in the 800 years from 431 B. C. to A. D. 378. This 800 years of
disintegration is divided into a time of troubles (400 years)
and a universal state (400 years) .18
There is a peculiar and ominous significance in the regularity
of these figures, and also in the regularity of the number (3i)
of routs and rallies that occur during the 800 years of social
disintegration. Besides these, there are other cyclical regularities in human transactions, particularly in the intervals of
A Study of History, VoL VI, p.
Vol. IX, pp.
Ibid., Vol. VI, pp.
'"ibid., pp.
"The Rhythm in Hellenic History."
16

17

168

DAVID B. RICHABDSON

war-and-peace in several civilizations, in the business cycles of
an industrialized Western society and in various discernible
rhythms. 19

B. The Dynamism of HistOTy
The history of a civilization is a human history whose movement, for better or for worse, has its dynamic wellsprings in
the volitions of man. Man's power to seek real or apparent
" goods " for his personal, domestic, civil, national or cultural
satisfaction, virtuously or viciously, causes history to move.
Every past civilization, it seems, tended to progress from one
set of outlooks and ambitions to another and from one revolution to another. There can be no explanation of this motion,
except that the members of each civilization pursued a successive series of" goods," ends or purposes, each differing from the
other, the earlier goal becoming less attractive than those that
replaced it. It is far beyond the limits of the present study to
determine specifically the succession of main " goods " through
which the members of a falling civilization proceed. But we
can observe that there are serials of personal, domestic and
political (and even cultural) "goods," which serials have been
similar in several fallen civilizations, and that the parts of the
respective serials-the goods-have been similar too. Thus the
Indic, the Babylonic, the Andean, the Orthodox Christian, the
Minoan, the Hindu, the Far Eastern and the other civilizations
have had similar serials of succeeding ideals, and the ideals, the
"goods" have been similar too. An example of an ideal or
"good" is that of egalitarianism. Thus Paulicianism arose in
Asia Minor in the ninth century when the Orthodox Christian
Civilization was declining. The strength of the Paulician egalitarian ideals is to be seen in the Albigeiisian heresy of the
mediaeval Western Civilization; for the Albigensians were inspired by Paulician notions. 20
If we make a general and rapid reconnaissance of. these
•• Ibid., Vol. IX, pp. 822, 228-284, 291-295.
•• Cf. The Decline of the West, Vol. I, p. 294, Table I. Vol. II, p. 425; A Study
of History, Vol. IV, pp. 864-869, 624-684.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF

169

purposes and " goods " in the fabric of history, we will be able
to see the need of the philosophy of history that I am proposing. In all branches of ethics, in the cultural as well as in the
political, domestic and personal, we are concerned not only
with those goods that are fully good, but also with those
"goods" that mask the face of evil. In order to discipline
himself in the virtues which dispose him toward the good, man
has also to study the greater and lesser goods and the vices.
If we consider briefy the history of civilizations, in this light,
our survey becomes at the same time a preface in cultural
ethics.

C. Characteristics of Growing Civilization
Past civilizations have originated in the anarchic scraps and
remnants of previous societies. 21 Thus the Hellenes developed
a civilization of city-states following upon the barbaric anarchism of a Post-Minoan interregnum. New civilizations have
manifested their unity of outlook in many ways, religious,
political, artistic, intellectual, etc. There is an awareness of the
civilization and of the surpassing excellence of the social and
political institutions which have come into being. Indeed,
we may speak of an invigorating and pious exultation of man
in the goodness of the social and political forms and customs by
which the new civilization has manifested itself. That moving
force of historical progress which we found to be the volitions
of man is now a desire for personal, domestic, political and
cultural perfection, which at the same time more or less religiously exults in the excellence that the culture has already
discovered. We find a greater and finer exultation in Christian
civilizations than in the pagan because, whereas the latter have
had only the experience of natural religions, the former have
had the inspiration of a Divine revelation. It is this life-giving
exultation, founded in at least some degree of religiousness, an
exaltation of established social and political forms (such as
aristocracy or any rooted institution) , which outstandingly
21

Cf. for example, ibid., Vol. IX, pp. 291-2.

170

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

characterizes the growth period of a civilization. And perhaps
the absence of this exultation, this great satisfaction with existing traditions, is the most outstanding characteristic of a civilization which had proceeded considerable on its decline. Such
an exultation may be conscious and aware of itself in the most
enlightened leaders of the culture, or, in the members of social
classes who actively participate in the life of the civilization, it
may, in a later and cooler age, be only symbolic and work metaphorically. Thus there are many symbols in an aristocratic
society. St. Thomas Aquinas wrote of this symbolism in the
thirteenth century: "Now it is to be observed that a person
may be honored not only for his own virtue, but also for
another's; thus princes and prelates are honored as standing in
God's place, and as representing the community over which
they are placed." 22
Exultation is nothing if it is not a personal satisfaction with
the object of human volition. And it is precisely a collective
and harmonious satisfaction in the various human goods that
a study of a growing civilization reveals. " A growing
zation can be defined as one in which the components of its
culture-an economic element, a political element, and a third
which may be called the cultural element par excellence-are
in harmony with one another; and, on the same principle, a disintegrating civilization can be defined as one in which the same
elements have fallen into discord." 23 It follows that if the
numerous " goods " sought and enjoyed by the members of a
civilization, are in harmony with, reinforce one another, a
greater cultural satisfaction (or exultation) will exist in those
persons than in the members of a disintegrating society. But
a harmony exists in the culture only if there exists an order
that transcends the parochial states and classes that belong to
the culture.
History shows us very dearly that a reasonable order and a
22 Summa Theologiae, H-H, q. 63, a. 3, resp. This statement occurs in St. Thomas'
treatise on the moral virtues potentially included in justice; namely, religion, piety.
gratitude, revenge, observance and truth.
23 A Study of History, Vol. IX, p. 7.

HISTORY AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

171

more or less true ethical norm coordinates (cum granis salis)
all the aspects and activities of the social life of a growing
civilization. In contrast, such a norm does not order the actions
of a declining civilization (aside from the activities of individual persons, families, groups or particular nations) .24 A cultural norm of this kind (a truly ethical norm in Christian
commonwealths) is really present in the growing civilization,
even though the cultural leaders may be unconscious that their
religion or ethics implicitly includes it as well as political,
domestic and personal norms. Such an end can most truly
operate in that Christian civilization whose individual members
act for cultural goals, while at the same time seeking communion with one another in a supra-cultural, divine, Goal. As
Professor Gilson says, " the city of man cannot exalt itself, in
the shadow of the Cross, except as a suburb of the City of
God." 25

D. Characteristics of the Breakdown .of Civilization
As a cause of the harmony and unity of a growing civilization,
there does exist some good, or group of goods, in which the
aspirations and cultural joys of the active individual members
agree. As a condition of the great discord and disunity into
which the member-nations, classes and individuals of a civilization fall, in a time of troubles, there must exist a number of
"goods" in which the cravings of the peoples do not agree.
Somehow a dialectic of feelings, emotions and desires, which
had proceeded from one historical challenge to another in a
condition of relative harmony, takes a tum for the worse.
Nations, classes and individuals create unusually poignant conflicts of purposes, mutually conflicting goals, some of which are
contrary to the good of civilization. The condition which allows
.. The breakdown of the Hindu Civilization, about A. D. 1175, was made
possible by the discord and military conflicts into which the member states fell.
Ibid., Vol. VI, pp. 301, 237.
•• E. Gilson, Les Metamorphoses de la Cite de Dieu (Paris, 1952), p. 291. La
cite des hommes ne peut s'elever, a l'ombre de la croix, que comme le faubourg de la
Cite de Dieu.

172

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

this breakdown to occur seems to have been, in the history of
past civilizations, a widespread dissatisfaction with the status
quo. If we consider the great amount of violence and conflict
of all kinds that characterize history in any era, in the young
culture as well as the old, the blunt fact that a young civilization may have encountered an historical vicissitude, a moral
challenge, that was momentarily too great for it to overcome
successfully is not surprising. 26 The history of a culture is so
full of irrational and violent tides of events and diabolical
occurrences that, in a time of conflict the unity of the civilization may be seriously impaired. If we seek to find the source
of the breakdown of such a fallen commonwealth, we will of
course find it before the event, that is, in the civilization while
still in a state of growth. Briefly, then, past civilizations have
stopped growing and begun to decline when the members of the
general society started to strive for mutually conflicting political, social, domestic and personal "goods." There has been
a widespread rejection of the civilizational order (because of
some past failure of the culture to overcome an historical
obstacle).

E. Characteristics of the Decline of Civilizations
But a description of the breakdown cannot suffice to show
the source of the general decline (and fall) of a civilization. If
we consider the breakdown of the society by itself, it is not
truly a breakdown; it might, if considered alone, be only another
great vicissitude in the course of a growing civilization. We
need to consider (briefly) the typical course, during four
centuries 27 that past civilizations have taken in their time of
troubles. General motivations and .. goods " will be revealed
and thereby the study will be put within the purview of ethics.
The whole historical process during the time of troubles may be
described as one in which both the member societies and the
social classes within the great commonwealth successively be•• See note
and main text above.
•• A Study of History, Vol VI, p.

Vol. IX, pp.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

173

come acutely conscious of themselves and of their peculiar
ideals. The state (whether city-state or nation) becomes an
overwhelming ideal, a good unto itself; and the good of the state
somewhat blinds the eyes of its enfranchised citizens to the
good of the civilization. At :first, there are aristocratic states,
which exist with reference to ancient aristocracies of noble
families and leaders of cults. The old order of the growing
civilization prevails so strongly that the guidance of the state
still emanates in many ways from the aristocratic classes. But
as the " good," or ideal of the state becomes clearer and more
attractive, the state becomes absolute; the ideal of the nation
more and more outweighs the other traditions and sympathies.
The absolute state, with an absolute ruler, in principle sets
itself up as the opponent of the aristocratic state. The absolute
state may, as it did in Greece in the era of the second
Tyrannis, for the :first time seek support in the unprivileged
part of the nation. The " people " :first emerges as a political
entity. Usually, in its turn, the ideal of political absolutism has
been replaced violently by revolutionary ideals antithetical to
the old traditional orders. Englishmen evaded this catastrophe
by replacing the ideal of absolute kingship, in 1688, with the
ideal of class rule, hidden in the notion of a :representational
government. In such revolutionary times the dialectic of historical events and of ideals that began at the time of breakdown
of the growing culture has progressed to a stage which differs
:remarkably from the somewhat religious and hierarchical order
of the ancient epoch. What there is of that religious complex
of traditions and ideals, which has not died or disappeared in
Western Civilization, has been swept away by revolutionary
violence in fallen civilizations. The unclassed, the " people "
(the middle class), to whom the absolute state appealed for
support against the old aristocratic orders, has become aware
of its peculiar " goods," its Rights. Now it employs its strength
for itself, and as a class opposes all the rooted institutions, the
absolute state, the " crown," the aristocratic orders-all the
:representatives of symbolic tradition. At this stage in the
history of a declining culture we may speak of the ascendency

174

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

of Pure Reason. " Goods " and ideals of many kinds are set
up by an arrogant Reason which has purified itself of the
beloved traditions of the old orders. Thus, in the Indic Civilization, the Sankhya (nir!svara-the "godless") philosophy
was developed around the fifth century B. C., an era of general
intellectual revolt and innovation in the Indic Time of Troubles.
Why is the national life of states deprived of the exaltation of
traditions and ideals which had worked symbolically and
metaphorically in the religious minds of ancestors? We can note
at least that the deprivation occurs by virtue partly of the very
force of the new ideals of pure reason, and partly of the corrupting effects of social and military conflicts within an erstwhile
ordered civilization. Old exultations pass away and old social
symbols become incomprehensible, and they are replaced by
tangible interests and by the cravings of revolutionary thinkers
to see their conceptions actualized.
A second " rout " in the history of fallen civilizations begins
to occur at this time, a relapse into violent wars and disorders.
Since the time
breakdown, the ruling orders, aristocracies or
"crowns," of states, have tended to ignore the exigencies of
world order and foreign policies. And the new class, the
" people," has been interested exclusively in securing their
" rights." Such happened in Greece in the fifth and fourth
centuries B. C. For Plato and Aristotle, democracy meant
" mob rule " to a considerable degree. This new urban,
"people's" class cannot really act properly in its own interests
-that of "Man "-it lacks the guidance of any positive goal,
whatsoever, that might be proper to its own interests. It has
only the precarious and negative unity of being in the opposition. As for constructive goals, the interests of the various
groups that comprise it pull all ways. All agree in wanting to
be free from something. But the intellectuals want justice, the
moneyed people want a free path to business success; others
desire to obtain rest from the social troubles and to preserve
old traditions. The fear in the" people's" class and its aversion
from the more or less religious attitudes and social institutions
of old are so deeply felt, that it is ready to rescue or acquire

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

175

its freedom by means of a dictatorship which acknowledges
no rules. Accidental, political regimes begin to replace governments of high and unshakable traditions. A new element
appears, exerting influence on the course of events, an " internal
proletariat," to use Toynbee's term-au urban group of rootless
persons, standing outside of all social linkages, containing an
uprooted peasantry, an intelligentsia, a declassed nobility,
ruined business men, unemployed and drifters. Their power far
exceeds _their number because they are always present in the
cities, ready to form into mobs; they are devoid of any taste
or desire for orderliness. In past civilizations the social order
has become, at this stage, a kind of " Liberalism " which
obtains a degree of social tranquillity, both from the ideals
of a pure reason and the orderly requirements of a new and
huge system of finance. This liberalism, propounding both the
freedom of a critical reason and that of a new finance, seeks to
make the state an instrument serving its purpose.
In this era, the center of gravity of political policy, already
de jure transferred from the Crown to the people or their
representatives, is passing de facto from the latter to unofficial
groups and personages. Such happened in the Roman Commonwealth around
B. C. and subsequently, when the Equites,
originally a select cavalry reserve corps, made themselves into
financiers and later into a privileged class in political affairs.
Chance and accident play a greater and greater role in the
history of governments; old forms and institutions weaken in
their hold on the sentiments of citizens; the negative unity of
the " people," the unclassed, gives way to a positive disunity
of aims, and the force of mob elements strengthens. In the
degree that political order loses hold, possibilities open up for
energetic individuals ambitious to have political power. The
civilizational order begins to hang upon the accidents of unbridled personal regimes, the meteoric careers of obscure men
who suddenly obtain supreme powers or suddenly lose them.
A series of wars and social catastrophes now accompanies an
accelerated demolition of old institutions. The time of troubles
for the culture ends in extraordinary violence and disorder; the

176

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

civilization succumbs to the rule of a " Caesar " and to the
dead peace of a universal state, such as that of the Roman
Empire.

F. The Social Goods that are not Good Enough
When we consider this epitome of instability in the histories
of fallen civilizations from their breakdown to their entrance
into a universal state, we see how the historical process has
been moved by the volitions of man. The goals and " goods "
which succeeded one another have successively engaged the
aspirations of national states, social classes and individuals.
There are two outstanding conditions to be observed in the
morphology of cultural decline: First, it has been an historical
movement, a movement because the maker..s of history have
been powerfully attracted by more or less great ideals and
purposes. Second, it has bee.n an historical decline, a decline
because an order and a peace in the growing civilization has
given way to a disorder within the civilization, within national
states, in social classes, in families and in the souls of men. It
is a great irony that the dynamic pursuit of ideals or perfections
by the members of a civilization, whence occurs its historical
movement, can compel and hasten its decline. For example,
the pursuit of statism, of parochial self-interest by the member
states of such fallen civilizations as the Hindu or Babylonic
aggravated their times of troubles and hastened their declines.
We are indeed witnessing irony in its most real sense: the
irony of the good that is not good enough. The phenomenon
is all the more ironic because the social evils, consequent upon
the weakening of the goods, have multiplied tremendously in
the decline of civilizations, in human eyes completely out of any
proportion to their historical source.
We cannot ascribe the cause of the almost unbelievable catastrophes and slaughters that have occurred in declining cultures
merely to the wickedness of man by any human calculationsany more than could the ancient Israelites have assigned the

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

177

cause of the plagues of locusts to themselves. 28 Here, it becomes
a question of the divine Providence of God; for we can find no
lesser cause of the tribulations that are visited upon the
members of a civilization when once natural religion (at least)
and humility that informed the growing culture have been
cast off. It is from this point of view that we can comprehend
the decline of civilizations.
No deliberate decisions have caused civilizations gradually to
weaken. Instead, the citizens and the member societies of past
commonwealths, at the point of breakdown of the growing
culture, have abandoned the pursuit of at least a natural order
and religion binding the whole society, and have sought particular aims. This historical dialectic occurs because of a gradual
change in the conscience and awareness of the human participants during the culture's time of troubles. All the while that
the culture pursues one political or cultural good after another,
the conscience of the citizens of the civilization secretly
corrupts.

III. THE SouRcE oF THE REGULARITY OF " HISTORICAL CYCLES "
A. The Dehumanization of Cultures
Up to the present, none of the civilizations that completely
disappeared have been Christian. This remark extends to the
Hellenic Civilization; St. Augustine wrote De Civitate Dei
partly in order to show that the Roman Commonwealth fell
because it had not been informed by the Faith and the Old
and New Laws. 29 However, in the Hellenic culture and all
others which have disappeared, some kind of religiousness has
occurred during the vigorous years of the societies and manifested itself in various pagan rites and practices. Insofar as this
natural religiousness has turned men's minds towards a justice
which transcends human customs and vacillations, and inasmuch as it has given some knowledge and love of the divine
•• Deuteronomy 28. cf. II Kings 24.

•• De Civitate Dei, Bk. 4, Chap. 84; Bk. 22, Chap. 22.

178

DAVID B. RICHAHDSOX

Lord of the world, to that degree it has strengthened and
stabilized civilizations in which those men lived. We can speak
of a certain devout attitude that informed all past civilizations
when they were young and vigorous, even though the religious
sense was inadequate and unsatisfying in pagan societies. 30
But in the most orderly portion of a civilization's life, that
of youth and growth, the feelings, thoughts, plans and transactions of individual human beings are subject to interference
from one another. 31 Nevertheless, during a civilization's time
of growth there exists a :rational order of human wills and
intellects which is able to guide the tremendous energies of its
citizens in such a reasonable way that we can describe this
history as one of growth rather than decline. Such was the case
with the Greeks, prior to the beginning of the Atheno-Peloponnesian War in 431 B. C. The Greeks had called themselves
Hellenes. They recognized a common race and language and
30 What is this religiousness of which I \Vl"ite? In defining the virtue of religion,
St. Thomas Aquinas quotes Cicero iu saying: " 'religion consists in offering services
and cermonial rites to a superior nature that men call divine' " (op. cit., II-H, q.
80, a. 1, sed contra, quoting Cicero, Rhet01-ic, II, 53). The subject matter of
religion is certain acts whereby God is worshipped, and it refers those acts to God
as its end (ibid., H-H, q. 81, a. 5, corpus). The interior acts of religion are devotion
and prayer; and the exterior acts are adoration, sacrifice, oaths, adjurations and
invocations. For St. Thomas the virtue of religion pertains to what is true in
paganism and to the completion of it in the Catholic faith, worshipping God iu
the three Persons. Though Aquinas does not treat religion as a genus of which
Christianity would be a species, yet he mentions the religion of the Jews "who
offered first-fruits to the Lord with a most ready and devout mind'" (ibid., II-II,
q. 8!i!, a. 1, corpus, quoting Exodus, 35 20, 21). It does not seem contrary to St.
Thomas' intention that analogously as the New Law is the fulfillment of the Old
Mosaic Law, so Christianity is the fulfillment of those pagan religions, past present
and future, which Cicero's term includes. And just as it is possible for acts of
superstition (the contrary of religion) to occur in a Christian in " offering divine
worship in a manner it ought not," so likewise it is all the more possible in pagans
"in offering divine worship to 'whom it ought not" (ibid., II-U, q.
a. 2,
corpus). As to the kinds of superstition, worshipping in an undue mode, giving
divine worship to a creature (idolatry), fortune-tel1ing and magic, these are the
very contrary of the acts of religion (ibid., a. 2 ff). Consequently, when I mention
the " religiousness " of some non-Christian civilization I am not referring to that
religion insofar as it is an idolatry or a superstition but insofar as it has aspects,
however sporadic and fragmentary, which constitute some genuine religiousness.
•• Cf. A Study of History, VoL IX, pp. 334 fi.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

179

a common type of religion and culture over and against that
of the barbarians and the Persians. 32
The same multitudinous energies, once they escape a reasonable guidance, become possessed of a demonic force. 33 We
noted, for example, that the Hellenic civilization underwent a
series of catastrophic political and social wars after 431 B. C.
Generally speaking, we observed that at the beginning of a time
of troubles in a fallen civilization there begins a rigid dialectic
of routs, -rallies, and :relapses, whose time intervals are amazingly regular. The rhythm manifests a process that flows from
some source other than the voluntary decisions of men. And
the eras of peace and creativity in this period mark, not the
growth, but the decline of the civilization. When the order of
a humble reason in the governance of the civilization begins to
disappear, as disorder and unbalancing conflicts begin to increase, the quasi-instinctual inclinations of man take advantage
of the partial relapse from their virtuous subservience to reason.
Within the civilization, anarchic and mob-like conditions
begin to characterize the agreements and disagreements of the
member national societies. These conditions make it possible
for a very real dehumanization to permeate the collective
wisdom that informs the civilization. It becomes pertinent in
some degree to call the civilization (the terrestial "city of
man") the "city of swine," because of the animal-like feelings,
emotions, desires and complacencies that men have. And in the
opportunity afforded by the continued history of cross-purposes
of wills and judgments in the civilization, these appetencies take
unto themselves whatever authority the human reason has
neglected to assert. 34 And insofar as they have ruled, the human
reason has been ruled by them; to that degree the reasonable
"goods" of man have been replaced by the "goods" of
emotions, desires, feelings and complacencies. And this topsyturvy disorder present in the ends and volitions of men is, of
course, a vicious state of affairs. It is particularly in those
32 Cf. Herodotus, Bk. VIII, Chap. 144.
•• Cf. A Study of History, Vol. IX, pp. 331-33:!.
•• Cf. ibid.

180

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

cultural virtues which order men to the good of the civilization
that the rule of reason and of right will is replaced by the rule
of emotions and of sensory appetities, and, therefore, in which
the moral virtues are replaced by the vices. For the civilizational goods and the corresponding virtues have in human
history been the least known of the political and cultural imperatives that I think are incumbent upon the will of man.
And it has been possible for men to live virtuously in their
personal, domestic and civil or national affairs while being
unconscious of their vices in respect to the civilization. As St.
Augustine points out, it was possible for Roman leaders to
sacrifice personal comfort in their service of the self-glorification
of the Roman Empire above the other Hellenic states, 35 but the
personal and political virtues of the Roman civil servants were
belied by a vice which opposed the good of the Hellenic
culture: pride, and one which we can term " cultural pride."
The significant fact, for our purposes, is the element of
undeviating and cyclical necessity that then imposes itself upon
the human affairs of the culture. Social transactions begin to
revolve abnormally-and we shall see how-in exactly the
same type of necessary cycles in which the animal, vegetable
and mineral worlds revolve. Not only does the comparison
between declining civilizations and sub-human spheres refer to
the occurrence of cycles, but also the emergence of "laws"
expressing exact time sequences. The advent of a " Caesar "
and his universal state, midway through the process of cultural
breakdown, does not prevent these "laws" from functioning.
His bureaucratic dictatorship replaces the organic, internal and
unifying agents and ideals of the civilization and the elan of
its lesser national societies by an external agent holding an
amalgamate together by force. From that time a psychology of
the crowd (foule) more and more accurately characterizes the
cultural and all the other moral acts of the members of the
culture. To conclude, the order of the civilization is the first
of all moral orders to suffer in the breakdown of a culture; it
disappears the most completely in the downfall of the culture.
•• De Civitate Dei, Preface.

HISTORY AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

181

Is there a lawful origin of the amazing regularity of historical
vicissitudes in the histories of fallen civilizations which Toynbee
has empirically observed? Cyclical "laws" themselves cannot
be considered to be a part of human nature, for philosophical
as well as theological reasons. Historical cycles are not an
inherent law of the sociality of man, but an evil; for they
manifest the destruction of the greatest work men are capable
of building, a civilization. 86 Cycles are indeed a natural evil,
though civilizations have been perverse in their idolatries, and
though societies have been so sinful and rotten as to deserve
extinction in the minds and wills of their citizens. For although
God in His Providence puts all historical troubles and cultural
declines to good uses, not the least of which has been to instruct
mankind, still any civilization is a great natural good, and its
destruction is a great natural evil.
B. The Regularity of Historical Cycles
I have dwelt upon these particular inhuman aspects of the
decline of civilizations because, if we note the dehumanization
of the cultural order, it will help us to understand historical
cycles. The cyclical qualities of fallen civilizations have sometimes been likened to the biological growth, decline and death
of living beings. But the evidence of history points towards a
conclusion which can be stated in terms that are even less noble
than those of the biologist. We saw that the source of cultural
decline is associated with the losses of a natural religiousness
(at least), of political sagacity, of virtue and sense of purpose.
For example, at the time of breakdown of the Egyptiac Civilization after about 2400 B. C., law, political order and the
religion were attacked by the people. 37 The Bolshevik rebellion
of the Egyptiac people against the government of the pyramid
builders was of a destructive nature. However, the question
at present concerns the regularity which has been present in
36

Est enim civitas principalissima eomm quae humana ratione constitui possunt.

St. Thomas, In Libros Politicorum Aristotelis (Rome, 1951), Prooemium S. Thomae,
nn. 7.
37 A Study of History, Vol. IV, pp. 408-411.

182

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

historical cycles; for example, the span of 400 years, common to
fallen civilizations, which has measured the turning of the wheel
from the time of breakdown to the time of universal state. The
answer, I think, is to be found in the rigid regularity that characterizes unthinking and necessitated natural activities in all
levels of the merely physical world.
This physical regularity is imitated in the course of history,
not exactly (1) because of the dehumanizing of human decisions, nor (2) because of the sins of men, but on account (8)
of the material and physical condition in which man has been
created. Man is not a pure soul or spirit, but an incarnate
spirit, composed of flesh and blood as well and depending on
the material conditions common to the entire physical universe
for his earthly existence. Bearing in mind this condition of
mankind, let us consider an analogy taken from the science of
chemistry in order to understand the historical problem. So
long as an external agent does not bring a purely chemical
process to an abrupt halt or change the natures of the interacting substances, the chemical process can occur and reoccur with
more or less exactly the same time sequences. The chemist can
show us a beaker partly filled with a colorless solution; he can
then measure a test-tube containing another colorless solution;
pour one into the other and predict exactly how many hours,
minutes or seconds will transpire before the mixture suddenly
turns a brilliant scarlet color. And, of course, the experiment
can be repeated many times, done with other containers, different quantities of the same solutions and carried out with
variations in the dexterity and gestures of the performing
chemist. What is more, if the experiment is repeated, there
will be infinite new variety in the relations of all the billions
and trillions of ions, atoms and molecules reacting with one
another in trillions of reactions. And yet, in the immense complex of activities, the time interval is always the same, no
matter how often the chemist may repeat the experiment-so
long as he uses the same physical materials.
I think 1t is possible to argue from the chemical analogy to
the temporal regularity of routs and rallies in the decline phase

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF' CIVILIZATIONS

183

of fallen civilizations" It will also throw light on the rhythms
of challenges and responses that occur in a civilization when in
a state of growth" And to mention the latter is to speak of our
own Western Civilization if it is, as I believe, still healthy and
VIgorous"
Just as there are certain time lags involved in the travel of
one ion or atom through the solution before it meets another to
react with it, so in a civilization there are definite time lags
involved in the communication of knowledges and emotions
between the thousands or millions of individual persons belonging to the commonwealth" There are time intervals in the
dialectic of images and fancies that develop in history from one
generation to another, some of which successively enthrall and
depress the souls of those who know them" There are likewise
durations of time in the dialectic of emotions and quasiinstinctual actions that succeed one another or grow or decline
in intensity from one era to another" Historians of philosophy
have shown that there are dialectics of ideas or concepts that
ravel or unravel themselves in years, decades and centuries" All
these various timelags are rather independent of the reason and
the free will of man" They are, on the contrary, caused by the
physical and material condition of man" He exists in time
because he is material, and the vast natural dialectic of emotions and instincts, of images and fancies, of concepts and
ideals, follows upon his physical condition. All these acts of
the appetitive and knowing powers of man, even those of his
immortal spirit, are developed in time, transmitted in time and
are reexperienced in time-that is, over a duration of time"
Given the concrete condition that follows upon human
nature, these temporal dialectics articulate every historical
activity of man" And it is here that we may find part of the
reason why rather exact temporal " laws " of historical cycles
have characterized the instability of fallen civilizations" This
historical repetitiousness is similar to the temporal uniformity
that occurs in the repeated experiment with chemical solutions"
Some proximate end both in the chemical and the historical
process is pursued by powers; by means of these powers the

184

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

reacting agents move towards the goal. And in both cases, in
the historical and the chemical processes, the material conditions in which the powers operate impose a necessary duration
of time upon the respective " histories." The powers, in the
chemical reaction, are the physical potentialities of the chemical
substances. The powers in the historical process of the civilization, are the appetites, both rational and sensory, of the
human beings involved. But what is the proximate historical
goal and " good " in the case of man? It surely is not the
instability, that is, the catastrophes periodically occurring in
the breakdown of a civilization, which correspond, in my
analogy, to the terminus of the chemical process. These human
and historical goals must be personal, domestic, political and
cultural " goods " in order to motivate the historical process
which man undertakes and undergoes. At the beginning of the
cultural breakdown, these "goods" are less fragmentary, less
unreasonable and less vicious than the " goods " which motivate
the memb«n·s of the civilization near the end of the breakdown.

C. Freedom and Rhythms in Human History
We can observe that even during the growth phase of civilizations, and in the most stable and peaceful 38 eras, there are
conflicts, tensions, collective passions and idees fixes of many
kinds. These occurred in Western Civilization in such " quiet "
centuries as the thirteenth, and the eighteenth, if the culture
in that later age was indeed still in a state of growth. For
example, the Albigensian heresy arose in the thirteenth century
in Provence, and the military power acquired in fighting previously the Holy Roman Empire and then the Albigensians
greatly strengthened the French. By the end of the century
(during the reign of Philip the Fair) , the French asserted the
38 Peaceful is taken in the sense indicated by St. Augustine's dictum:
"the peace
of all things is the tranquility of order " (pax omnium rerum tranquillitas ordinis)
(op. cit., Bk. XIX, Chap. 13). Though a civilization in its time of growth is
subject to fierce internecine conflicts, nevertheless its "order " may be called
"tranquil " in comparison to the extremely violent disorders that occur in a time

of troubles.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

185

secular national ideal against the international authority of
the Church, to the great detriment of religion. In its turn, the
eighteenth century Western Civilization was a revolutionary
age, and the occurrence, in 1789, of the French Revolution, is
a material symbol that is none too great to represent the
turbulence of thought that preceded in the years before. 39
Also, let us note again that the dialectic of knowledges,
emotions, and desires follows its physically and materially
conditioned sequence in an era of cultural growth as well as in
an age of decline. Rhythms of historical events are present in
a culture during its age of grmvth. 40 But such a society possesses
some tranquility of order, a general peace which is governed by
a more or less religious human reason and will. A relatively
large degree of freedom on the part of the rational authority,
therefore, is present in the civilization, and the course of events
is proportionately independent of the instability, the cyclical
"laws " that characterize animal, vegetable and mineral worlds
and the world of man when it has been divested of the order of
right reason. Empirical study has revealed no strictly regular
:rhythms of historical events in the stable periods of past
civilizations. 41
In this era the leaders of the order, or at least a somewhat
religious unanimity of human purposes, have been able to place
the dialectics of events under the mastery of man. The rhythms
of one type of historical event or another have been lengthened
or shortened, interrupted or broken at the behest of human
purpose and authority. 42
39 Cf. P. Hazard,
European Thought in the Eighteenth Century, trans. J. L.
May (Yale, 1954), pp. l-UI.
40 A Study of History, Vol. IX, pp.
41 Ibid.
'"Historical cycles of civilizations have not occurred until the societies ceased
growing and entered a time of troubles. Then we may speak of 400 year intervals
and
beats, measuring the cycle of decline and death. For example, the breakdown of the Sinic Civilization occurred in 634 B. C., when the Tsin and Ch'u powers
collided in war. This was the first rout, to be followed by a first rally around the
time of Confucius (5.51-479 B. C.), when the Sung government succeeded in making
the Central Confederacy effective. The relapse, the Chan-Kwo--" the period of the
oontending states "-began about 403 B. C. No man caused the interval-that

186

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

But let us extend this analysis of freedom and rhythms to
human beings in a morphology of heroic ages and humanistic 43
eras. Let us also refer to the complex historical sequence of all
that is then physically communicable in man's material and
temporal condition. The forces of emotions and ill-moderated
desires, of disabling inertia and physical regularity imposed by
the material conditions of mankind, do not at once gain the
upper hand. They do not succeed in forcing the course of
history into a cyclical pattern until the civilization ceases to
grow and begins to decline. They necessitate only after the
civilization definitely breaks down. Probably, not even at that
time do they necessitate absolutely. If a breakdown of Western
Civilization occurred in the sixteenth century, the decline of
Western Civilization is not necessitated absolutely. Similarly,
there is no social " law" in human nature which requires man to
have business cycles of prosperities and depressions every fifty
years. It is only when the free conscious will of man is
frustrated that history becomes a confusion of contrary forces,
resulting in a vector no one has consciously sought.

IV.

THE NATURE OF PHILOSOPHY

OF HISTORY

As I said above, we must ascribe the vicissitudes of history
not exactly to the causality of man, but to the will of God and
His Divine Providence of the historical events where the good
was not good enough. Yet, one cannot understand the history
between the breakdown (634 B. C.) and the time of second rally, when the
conquest of Ts'i by Ts'in established a universal state (221 B. C.) -to be about
400 years. The second relapse in the decline of the Sinic Civilization occurred when
the dynasty of the Prior Han lost control for about 50 years preceding A. D. 9.
This was followed by a second rally, the dynasty of Posterior Han in A. D. 25. The
final relapse occurred in A. D. 172 when the Posterior Han and the Sinic Civilization
itself, collapsed (ibid., pp. 349 ff.). No man caused the interval of the universal
state to be about 400 years (221 B. C.-A. D. 172). No human being caused the
rhythm of decline to be Si beats. No individual sought the vicissitudes of the
Sinic Civilization.
•• The terms heroic and humanistic are based on Vico's periodization of national
histories. Thus he speaks of " heroic times, in which the states were aristocratic"
and of "human times in which free popular states or monarchies develop." The
New Science of Giambattista Vico, p. 314, nn. 950, and 951.

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

187

of civilizations unless one understands the social and political
" goods " which have appealed to the nobler part of human
nature during a time of troubles. From the viewpoint of philosophy of history, we do not have merely a problem of human
virtues or vices and divine reward or retribution, but also a
question of cultural and political goods which have proved
inadequate. The philosophy of history, therefore, has here a
double intent: first, an interest in the cultural virtues that
order the individual conscience to the good of the civilization,
and second, a concern with the nature of civilization itself and
with the social and cultural goods that serve the general order.
For the imperiousness with which various goods and ideals have
drawn the souls of men during the course of civilizations
indicates that these goods have a permanent place in the
cultural order which human nature requires. If philosophy of
history would order human conscience to the good of a civilization, it can expedite its task by anticipating, in its ideal of
a human culture, the purposes and goals that sometimes attract
the leaders of men.
In this sense, then, the philosophy of history is, at one and
the same time, the philosophy of civilization or culture. Its
ideal is the simultaneous presence of all the goods and perfections of a civilization at once. So long as we are thinking of
truly human goods, such a notion does not seem to be selfcontradictory; for, though the aims that succeed one another
in the later history of a civilization seem to be mutually exclusive; yet, that is not really so, if they are truly goods. They
have been mutually exclusive only in the sense that individual
persons have been excessively and unwisely enamored of them.
There does not seem to be an irreconcilable conflict between or
among such ideals as the following: Domestic Economy and an
Intricate and Beneficial System of Finance and Jndustry,
Liberty and Authority, Equality and Justice, Fraternity and
Rank, Urbanism and Ruralism, Monarchy, Aristocracy and
Democracy, Nationalism and Internationalism, Pluralism and
Unity, Reason and Faith, Humanism and Christianity, The
City of Man and the City of God. Such general goods have

188

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

been the source of the movement of vVestern Civilization. In a
time of growth the lesser goods have been sought in relation
to the ultimate good" We noted that when societies and citizens
have begun to pursue an ideal other than one perceived in at
least a natural religion and humility, their perception weakens
and their sense of values gradually disintegrates. But, on the
other hand, an ignorance of natural higher aspirations inherent
in man would jeopardize, if not individual virtue, at least the
foundation of a culture. Nothing less is involved than for men
to seek the simultaneous realization of all the true perfections
that could be historically realized in the course of a civilization"
It is what Vico called the total presence of man to himsel£,44
or the total historical presence of a society to itself 45-a reflective presence of many historical moments in one moment" For
then the " goods that are not good enough," those ideals which
we noted could not prevent the downfall of civilizations, might
neither be over-emphasized nor neglected"

V"

SuMMARY AND CoNCLUSION

The stability of civilizations is a concern of moral philosophy,
particularly a part of ethics which I would term historica,
the philosophy of history" First, the individual conscience
needs to be oriented beyond the municipal or national or imperial good to the cultural good, and the culture cannot be
subordinated to human politics. Second, such a doctrine can
be called philosophy of history: incidentally, it clarifies
nature of historical science, it comprehends much in its historical outlook, suggests guiding values in the writing of history
and makes the moral teachings of history the possession of the
common man" The innumerable, minute and concrete preoccupations of historical science prevent the latter from performing
the work of philosophy of history"
In a science of the stability of civilizations, an analysis of
"A. R. Capanigri, Time!! and Idea, the Theory of History in Giambattista Vico
(London, 1953), p. 66.

'"Ibid., pp. 1SS-l::J6,

HISTORY

AND THE STABILITY

OF CIVILIZATIONS

189

their instability (that is, of historical cycles) is in order.
Historical cycles, those obvious phenomena of growth, decline
and fall of many civilizations, manifest the instability of the
general commonwealths which have disappeared. In the first
period, a civilization is unified by various cultural bonds and
outlooks, and this era may last an indeterminate number of
centuries. But in the history of fallen civilization, a great
motion of disunity amongst the member states institutes a time
of decline, of international and intranational disturbances. The
decline of these general societies is exactly a dehumanization
of the individual persons and of the culture. The regressive
movement of the whole commonwealth is instituted by a violent
set-to of cross-purposes among each and every particular state
and between lower and higher ideals of the cultural leaders. The
group attitudes and collective decisions, particularly of the
member polities of the culture, fall from the guidance of a
humble reason. First on the plane of the civilization and later
at narrower levels, the decisions and actions of men fall into a
necessary sequenceo The group of societies in the commonwealth begins to behave, at the level of the civilization, like a
mob. In the divine Providence of history the slackening of
rational guidance by cultural leaders has allowed civilizations
to decline according to a " law " of historical cycles. And this
"law" has no proper place in the world order, except to manifest the regularity in time that the uniformity of material things
imposes on physical processes, and on spiritual processes when
they have been subordinated to the animal and physical realms
in man and his environment.
Ironically, man's pursuit of noble ideals, as well as spurious
" goods," has brought about the breakdown of fallen cultures.
For the very movement of civilized history, whether of stable
growth or of unstable decline, issues from the tendencies and
aspirations of the human spirit. An inordinate dissatisfaction
for the status quo has removed the member states and peoples
from the proper order of the culture, and once that order has
been definitely lost the pursuit of " statism " has instituted a
series of changing ideals. The leaders of the member groups

190

DAVID B. RICHARDSON

societies crave in temporal succession a number of "goods"
whose conflicting natures disrupt the civilizational and cultural
unity. Disorder proceeds from within the civilization, within
national states within social classes to a universal disorder in
the souls of men.
Yet decline is not only a matter of cultural, political, domestic and personal virtues and vices, but also a subject of various
true ideals or goods which the changing consciences of intellectuals discover during their culture's regress. (For, of course,
in the very descent, the order of fallen civilizations has had
tremendous momentum, sufficient to maintain civilizing processes and construct wonderful elaborations of political, social
and economic structures). Philosophy of history, consequently,
ought to consider divers goods and ideals that come to light
during civilized history, as well as cultural virtues and vices.
Man needs to seek the simultaneous accomplishment of all the
true perfections that may be realized in the course of a civilization. Thus the philosophy of history, a Christian philosophy,
seeks the stability of whole, integral culture through the cultural
and theological virtues. Such a philosophy recalls: « Vain is
the builder's toil, if the house is not of the Lord's building;
vainly the guard keeps watch, if the city has not the Lord for
its guardian"; 46 and reasserts: " Glorious is God in his saints,
wonderful in majesty, marvellous in his doings." 47
DAVID

University of Detroit,
Detroit, Mich.

•• Psalm 126 : 1-2.
07 Exodus 15 : 11.

B. RICHARDSON

THE PHILOSOPHY OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE

I

N referring to Christian Science, one may use advantageously an irritating literary device of the sixteenth century
and call the system " a philosophical religion and a religious
philosophy!' Which of these it is preeminently it is almost
impossible to say; while Scripture is one of the points of departure, Scripture must be interpreted only in the light of
certain philosophical speculations of a rationalistic nature,
speculations made first by Christ and then expressed cryptically
in the New Testament, where they have been available for
hundreds of years but understood for the first time by Mary
Baker Glover Patterson Eddy of Bow, Massachusetts, United
States of America, i.n the nineteenth century.
Christian Science and Mary Baker Eddy are no less inseparable than Christian Science and Christ. The Bible and Science
and Health are treated as equals; they lie side by side in the
Christian Science Reading Rooms. 1 In the standard Sunday
services, passages from both books are read aloud. :Moreover,
there is within the church a rigid set of laws governing the
writings of Mrs. Eddy to insure that they be preserved exactly
as they were left by their author's last revision. 2 Mrs. Eddy
'A Reading Room functions as an "every-day" church, a species of oratory,
where the faithful can come to read the passage from Scripture and Science and
Health prescribed by the Christian Science organization for each day. The silence
observed in the Reading Rooms has about it a church, rather than a library, quality.
2 All her life after
the first publication of Science and Health Mrs. Eddy was
engaged sporadically in revising the text. This resulted in a large number of new
editions, each of which made its predecessor obsolete. Consequently, every loyal
Christian Scientist was expected to purchase a copy of each new revision as it
came off the press.-Edwin F. Dakin, Mrs. Eddy, the Biography of a Virginal
Mind (New York: Blue Ribbon Books, 1930), p. 292. Since the death of Mrs.
Eddy, however, no changes have been made in the writings of the founder; in
fact, extreme care is taken that these writings shall be preserved without alteration.
In accordance with this policy, it was explained to the present writer in a Christian

191

ROSEMARY ZITA LAUER

had proclaimed personally in 1895 that there should no longer
be pastors in her church, but Science and Health itself should
be regarded as the pastor. 3 This place of eminence which
Science and Health holds among Christian Scientists, its seeming equality with Scripture, is explicable in view of Mrs. Eddy's
conviction that the work was divinely inspired and was even a
kind of spiritual child begotten through Mrs. Eddy's communing with the deity, just as the spiritual Christ-not the
physical Jesus, but the Divine Principle which was in Him-was
the fruit of the first Mary's communing with the Holy Spirit. 4
Science Reading Room that " we " do not copy JYirs. Eddy's writings, because " we "
might inadvertently omit or change a word and thereby change the meaning of the
text.
"we" would be purporting to be giving Mrs. Eddy's words when
actually "we" would not. Fortunately for the purpose of this paper, the Christian
Scientists of St. Louis had donated to the public library copies of their official
textbooks, and the public library has not undertaken to enforce the prohibition
against copying.
3 Article II, section 1, of the Church By-Laws reads as follows:
"The Readers
for the Mother Church shall be a
and a woman, one to read the BIBLE and one
to, read SciENCE AND HEALTH WITH KEY TO THE ScRIPTUREs." Section 2: " lit shall
be the duty of the First Readers to conduct the principal part of the Sunday
services, and the Wednesday evening meetings." Section 4: "The First Readers
in the Christian Science churches shall read the correlative texts in SCIENCE AND
HEALTH WITH KEY TO THE ScRIPTURES: and the Second Readers shall read the
BmLE texts. The reading from the ScRIPTURES shall precede the readings from
AND HEALTH. The Readers shall not read from copies or manuscripts, but
from the books." Section 5: "The Readers of SCIENCE AND HEALTH WITH KEY TO
THE ScRIPTURES, before commencing to read from this book, shall distinctly announce
the full title of the book and give the author's name .... " Section 6: "These Readers
... shall read understandingly and be well educated. They shall make no remarks
explanatory of the l.E:ssoN SERMON at any time. . . . This By-Law applies to
Readers in all ,the branch churches."-Manual of the Mother ChuTch.
• Cf. Dakin, op. cit,, pp. 191-2, for excerpts from The Christian Science Journal,
in which this idea is propounded. There are also indications that Mrs. Eddy
regarded herself as "the woman" of the Apocalypse and Science and Health as
"the child." Cf. Science and Health, "The Apocalypse." In the "Mother's Room"
of the new First Church erected in Boston in 1894 there was a large window
depicting " the four Marys-the mother of Jesus, Mary anointing the head of
Jesus, Mary washing the feet of Jesus, l\1ary at the resurrection; and the woman
spoken of in the Apocalypse ... "-perhaps "Mary" Baker Eddy.-Daily InterOrgan, Chicago, Dec. 31, 1894, quoted in Pulpit and Press (Boston: trustees of
the will of Mary Baker Eddy), no date of publication, chapter entitled, "Clippings
from Newspapers,'' With reference to the "Divine Principle," it may be noted that

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE

193

The results of Mrs. Eddy's communings with the Divine Principle constitute an interesting philosophical "system," interesting to the professional philosopher, however, not as a serious
explanation of reality or as a magnificently self-consistent
rationalization, but rather as a curiosity or as an example of
the seemingly everlasting vitality of idealism and its appeal to
those who are desirous of easy solutions to the problems of
intellectual error and moral and physical evil. Eddyism, as
a philosophy, does consider the perennial questions of metaphysics, psychology, epistemology, and ethics. While the enun-ciations of the proposed answers is not free from inconsistencies,
still a general, over-all position is quite evident throughout the
numerous " official " publications of Christian Science. It is this
general position which will be outlined here.
Just as any other philosophical system, Christian Science
begins with a number of principles: God is; God is immaterial;
God is intelligent; God is good. These principles have their
origin partly in Mrs. Eddy's own personal experiences of
truth. 5 The fact that such principles could be made to yield
Mrs. Eddy entertained the notion that one who understands Christian Science also
understands which words must be capitalized. Cf. Dakin, op. cit., p. 159.
• Cf. Fleta Campbell Springer, According to the Flesh (New York: CowardMcCann, 1930), Chapter 2. Also, Retrospection and Introspection (Boston:
Christian Science Publishing Company), chapter entitled. "Voices not our Own,"
in which Mrs. Eddy recounts her mystical experiences: "For some twelve months,
when I was about eight years old, I repeatedly heard a voice, calling me distinctly
by name, three times, in an ascending scale. . . . One day, when my cousin,
Mehitable Huntoon, was visiting us ... the call came, so loud that Mehitable heard
it. . . . That night, before going to rest, my mother read to me the Scriptural narrative of little Samuel, and bade me, when the voice called again, to reply as he did,
' Speak, Lord; for thy servant heareth.' The voice came; but I was afraid, and did
not answer." Cf. ibid., "Theological Reminiscence": "At the age of twelve I was
admitted to the Congregational (Trinitarian) Church. . . . In connection with this
event, some circumstances are noteworthy. Before this step was taken, the doctrine
of unconditional election, or predestination, greatly troubled me .... My father's
relentless theology emphasized belief in a final judgment-day, in the danger of
endless punishment, and in a Jehova merciless towards unbelievers. . . . My mother,
as she bathed my burning temples, bade me lean on God's love. . . . I prayed;
and a soft glow of ineffable joy came over me ... the 'horrible decree ' of predestination-as John Calvin rightly called his own tenet-forever lost its power
d\lVer me."

104

UOSEMARY ZITA LAUER

desirable conclusions was also very likely an important factor.
A further influence was Mrs. Eddy's association with Phineas
P. Quimby, a nineteenth-century forerunner of contemporary
psychosomatic practitioners; it was Quimby who, apparently,
made Mrs. Eddy realize the possibility that all physiological
effects had a mental cause. 6 She tells us that" in the latter part
of 1866 I gained the scientific certainty that all causation was
Mind, and every effect a mental phenomenon." 7 The fact that
she was suddenly cured of the effects of an injury at this time
appeared to her to be " the falling apple that led me to the
discovery how to be well myself, and how to make others so."
This was a miracle which the divine Spirit had wrought, " a
miracle which later I found to be in perfect scientific accord
with divine law." 8
From the original principles of Christian Science, if one interprets them in a univocal sense, certain metaphysical conclusions
follow as surely as night follows day: If God is, then whatever is not God is not; i£ all reality is God, then all reality is
intelligent, or Mind; if God is all reality and good, then evil
is nothing; if God is immaterial, then matter is non-existent. 9
This is the constantly recurring theme of the whole of Christian
Science literature. 10 Although Mrs. Eddy's idealism is of a
naive character, the difficulties-or, at least, certain of theminherent in her idealism have not escaped her attention: how
does one avoid pantheism if all reality is God; how does one
account for the individuality of human minds if God is all?
The first of these difficulties is solved with extraordinary ease
6

See bibliographical

notes.

• Retrospection and Introspection, "The Great Discovery."
• Ibid.
• Science and Health, " Science and Being ": " Divine metaphysics,

as revealed
to spiritual understanding, shows clearly that all is Mind, and that Mind is God.
omnipotence, omipresence, omniscience." "Divine metaphysics explains away matter.
Spirit is the only substance and consciousness recognized by divine Science. The
material senses oppose this, but there are no material senses, for matter has no mind.
In Spirit there is no matter, even as in Truth there is no error, and in good no evil.
... Spirit, God, is infinite, all."
10 An interesting
current example of this is an editorial attempt in the Christian
Science Sentinel, Feb. !<!0, 1950, to explain atomic power in terms of Spirit, Mind.

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTIAN

SCIENCE

195

-for " pantheism " is taken to mean " the presence of mind in
matter." In No and Yes we are told that Christian Science
refutes pantheism, for Christian Science "finds spirit neither in
matter nor in the modes of mortal mind " and " shows that
matter and mortal mind have neither origin nor existence in the
eternal Mind." 11 I£ pantheism, then, is taken to be some
conjunction of Mind and matter, and if matter is non-existent,
pantheism, of course, will be an impossibility. 12
The second problem, that of the individuality of finite minds,
or their relation to Mind, is more difficult of solution; the
attempted answer bears some faint resemblance to that of
Spinoza and involves the same implications of pantheism in the
generally accepted sense of that term. Whatever it is that
exists, it must be Mind, for matter and Mind are opposites:
" One is contrary to the other in its very nature and essence;
hence both cannot be real. If one is real, the other must be
unreal." 13 There are, however, angels and men in the universe.
Angels are "pure thoughts from God," God's representatives,
" who guide men, not to a false belief in self, sin, or matter,"
but " with white fingers they point upward to a new and
glorified trust, to higher ideals of life and its joys." 14 These
angels, together with human minds, reflect and express the
divine substance; God is seen in them as the sun is seen in the
rays of light that go out from it, or as a form is seen in a
mirror/ 5 Quite obviously, then, finite minds are dependent
upon the Divine Mind; the dependence, however, runs in the
other direction, too. Finite minds are God's idea as well as His
11 No and
Yes, published together with Rudimental Divine Science (Boston:
trustees under the will of Mary Baker Eddy), section entitled, "Is Christian
Science Pantheistic? " What is meant by " mortal mind " will appear later in the
treatment of Christian Science's philosophy of man.
12 In Christian Healing and Other Writings, chapter, "Christian
Science versus
Pantheism," Mrs. Eddy says that "by admitting self-evident affirmations and then
contradicting them, monotheism is lost and pantheism is found in scholastic
theology."
13 Science and Health, " Science of Being."

14 Ibid.
'"Ibid.

196

ROSEMARY

ZITA LAUER

reflection; this implies that "if there ever was a moment when
man did not express the divine perfection, then there was a
moment when man did not express God, and consequently a
time when Deity was unexpressed-that is, without entity." 16
The same theme is reiterated in" Science of Being": man is
God's image or idea, the "infinite expression of Infinite Mind";
man is coexistent and coete:rnal with Mind; " spiritual man's
consciousness and individuality are reflections of God," " emanations of Him." A single man, however, is not sufficient to
express or reflect God's fulness; there must be many-perhaps
an infinitude of-minds to express the infinity of God. Were
this expression or reflection lacking, the All would lose its
deific character and become less than God. 17
Besides this mutual dependence of the divine and human
minds, there seems to be an identification; for example: " The
term souls or spirits is as improper as the term, gods . ... There
is no finite soul nor spirit. Soul or Spirit means only one Mind,
and cannot be rendered in the pluraL" 18 " Spirit, the synonym
of Mind, Soul, or God, is the only real substance." 19 And yet,
"God is the parent Mind, and man is God's spiritual offspring!' 20 The only real existents other than God are His
eternal
and men-material " things " are the
thoughts of " mortal mind " and unreaJ.21 This, of course, is
somewhat like having one's cake and eating it, too: God is the
only true existent, the only Mind, and yet there are individual,
existing minds other than God. Mrs. Eddy, however, has
provided for the eventualtiy that those who read Science and
Health should find contradictions in it; there are, she says,
contradictions apparent only to those who fail to understand
the propositions of Christian Science well enough to pass judgment on them-and the only practical evidence one can have
16

11

Ibid., "Recapitulation."
Ibid., "Science of Being," "planks"

XXH-XXUI of the Christian Science

platform.
18 Ibid., " Recapitulation."
'"Ibid.
20 Ibid., "Science
of Being," "plank" XXIV.
n Ibid., " plank " XXVII.

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTIAN

SCIENCE

197

that he has attained a sufficient understanding is that he should
heal the sick in accordance with the principles of Christian
Science. 22
There is in the Eddy conception of metaphysics something
which has very likely never before been found in a philosophical
system: a position on the " metaphysics of childbirth." This
ontological obstetrical doctrine was taught by Mrs. Eddy in her
Boston Metaphysical College, where " nothing about childbirth was taught except that the proper way to deliver a child
was to make constant denial of everything, except the fact
of the child itself." 23 Mrs. Eddy, as perhaps every teacher,
whether of the metaphysics of childbirth or anything else, was
plagued at one time by a student who knew more about the
matter than she did. What, the student asked, is to be done in
case of a breech presentation? The answer was another example
of having things both ways at once: if the student is in
Christian Science, there will be no breech presentation; but, if
there is, one should call a regular practitioner. 24 The content of
the course can be rather well surmised from the fact that the
textbooks used in teaching metaphysical obstetrics were the
Bible and Science and Health. 25
In addition to the statement that man is God's idea o:r reflection or emanation or spiritual phenomenon, there is in the
authorized literature of Eddyism a rather elaborate analysis
of the nature of man, both as he is and as he will be once he
has attained to the perfect practice of Christian Science. Man
is not material at all; it is only the illusory man who appears
to have flesh and blood. Because man has been made in the
image and likeness of God, he could not be material: matter is
unlike Spirit. l\1an's senses are merely" mortal beliefs," unreal,
illusory; only mind is capable of perception and understanding.
A scriptural quotation, " If I bear witness of myself, my witness
22 Science and Health, "Some Objections Answered."
•• Dakin, op. cit., p.
•• Ernest Sutherland Bates, Mary Baker Eddy, the Truth and the Tradition,
(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1932), p. 258.
•• Dakin, op. cit., p. 241.

198

ROSEMARY

ZITA LAUER

is not true," is one argument for the unreliability of the senses,
for the physical senses themselves give the only pretended
testimony that there can be such a thing as matter; the senses,
however, are material themselves, and so the only evidence
possible is the untrue evidence they give of themselves. 26 Moreover, man, who reflects God, cannot be dependent on material
means for knowing or perceiving. The corporeal senses are the
one and only source of evil and error. Material things are only
as real as we make them, for what one sees or hears is only
a mode of consciousness. 27 Will power, too, is a mere illusion;
its blindness, stubbornness, and impetuosity make it impossible
that it should really govern man; man is governed by Truth and
Love, which are his motive powers. 28
The real man, not the illusory " mortal man " or the unreal
" mortal mind," which is erroneously supposed to be a " soul "
existing in matter-the real man is coeternal with God and is
in Hi.m; consequently, man can no more relapse from perfection
than God can cease to be the Divine Principle. Nor can man
cease to be: those who "die in the Lord" will awake from a
sense of death to a sense of life in Christ, "with a knowledge
of Truth and Love beyond what they possessed before ....
Those who reach this transition, called death, without having
improved the lessons of this primary school of mortal existence,
and still believe in matter's reality, pleasure, and pain,-are
not ready to understand immortality. Hence they awake to
another sphere of experience, and must pass through another
probationary state." 29
Just what it is that causes these "mortal beliefs" or these
" errors " or this inability to reflect Truth clearly is never
explained; nor is any account given of what it is or who it is
that experiences these errors, other than the statement that it
is "mortal mind." Mortal mind, however, has been cast out26

Unity of Good (Boston:

trustees under the will of Mary Baker Eddy)," There

is No Matter."

Unity of Good, " Seedtime and Harvest."
Science and Health, "Recapitulation."
29 Unity of Good, "Caution
in Truth."
27

28

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTIAN

SCIENCE

199

side the pale of reality; mortal mind itself is only a " mortal
belief," an illusion. The only reality left to error, and so to
man's body and senses, is that of being a non-existent delusion
of an illusory source of deceit.
In view of the fact that man is wholly spiritual, his begetting
is a wholly spiritual affair: " man is the offspring of Spirit ....
His origin is not, like that of mortals, in brute instinct." 30 Once
man has realized this truth, has understood that God is the
Father of all, that man and the universe have evolved from
Spirit, then there will be no more marriages, human generation
will cease, and the real, spiritual man, already created, coexistent with God, will be spiritually discerned. This is the state
to which Christ referred when He said man would neither marry
nor be given in ma.rriage. 31 Unfortunately, however, the world
is not yet prepared to accept these truths.
Some of Mrs. Eddy's disciples, nevertheless, to the founder's
great embarrassment, considered Divine Science sufficiently
advanced to have certain instances of" agamogenesis." A J\:Irs.
Laramine, one of 1\frs. Eddy's closest followers, was reported
to have said she knew of "three instances of pure mental conception among her students." 32 A certain Mrs. "\Voodbury
announced that she herself had conceived virginally, and gave
to her child the name, " Prince of Peace." This unusual
"demonstration" of the truth of Christian Science lost some of
its force when a l\'Irs. Rowe of Augusta, Maine, sued her
husband for divorce on the ground that he was contributing
all his earnings to the "Prince of Peace." As a consequence,
Mrs. Woodbury was excommunicated forever, and the Prince of
Peace was forcibly removed physically from the Christian
Science Sunday school. 33 In understandable spite, Mrs. Woodbury then proceeded to publish an account of Mrs. Eddy's
teaching on spiritual conception:
The substance of certain instructions
private is as follows:
80 Science and Health, " Marriage."
"Ibid.

32
33

given by Mrs. Eddy in

Bates, op. cit., p. 365.
Ibid., pp. 366-7.

ROSEMARY

ZITA L...I\.UER

If Jesus was divinely conceived by the Holy Ghost, or Spirit,
without a human father ... then women may become mothers
by a supreme effort of their own minds, or through the influence
upon them of an Unholy Ghost, a malign spirit ... she added the
oracular declaration that it lay within her power to dissolve such
motherhood by a wave of her celestial :rrod.34

As a final word on the nature of man in Christian Science, it
might be well to mention that for Mrs. Eddy" man" is ageneric term for all humanity. " Woman is the highest species of
man." 35 While this is considered in some circles as a truth
requiring no demonstration, it is difficult to see just how there
is room in a complete idealism for a distinction of the sexes.
Mrs. Eddy, however, does tell us that "the masculine mind
:reaches a higher tone through certain elements of the feminine,
while the feminine mind gains courage and strength through
masculine qualities." 36
With respect to ethics, there is only one basic Christian
Science principle: realize that sin is an illusion, that evil is the
opposite of good and ·therefore unreal, a mere delusion
" mortal mind." Such a· doctrine could, of course, result in
quietistic self-extinction through inactivity or in absolute licentiousness; the Christian Scientist, however, must judge his progress in Science by his observance of the Decalogue, He must
live a life that approaches the supreme Good; he must obey
God, be of one Mind with all others, and love others as himself. 31
Just as others who have adopted a kind of neo-Platonic emanationist theory, Mrs, Eddy was faced with the problem of
how God could know evil and yet not be its cause. Her answer,
though consistent with the rest of Christian Science, involves
the simple expedient of denying any divine knowledge of evil.
If God had any knowledge of sin, ·sickness, or death, these
would of necessity be eternal, for the divine idefl,s are coexistent
with God; but only the :real, Spirit, is eternaL Moreover, if God
•• Arena, May, 1899, quoted in Bates, op. cit., pp. 868-9.
35 Unity of Good, " Credo."
36 Science and Health, "Marriage."
37 Ibid., "Recapitulation."

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTIAN

SCIENCE

201

foreknew evil, He would foreordain it, for " foreknowledge and
foreordination must be one in an infinite Being. What Deity
foreknows, Deity must foreordain; else He is not omnipotent,
and, like ourselves, He foresees events which are contrary to
His creative will, yet which He cannot avert." 38
There appears to be in such an emanationist system no possibility of human freedom, except perhaps that of the Stoics: a
realization that all is caused by God and a tranquil resignation
to that causality. This, very likely, is the consequence of Mrs.
Eddy's early religious training in the Congregationalist doctrine
of absolute divine determination, plus her own rebellion against
the disagreeable aspects of predestination. Even though Mrs.
Eddy had ever entertained the notion of human independence
of win, which of comse she never did, almost certainly her
hysterical temperment would have urged her to barter freedom for an assurance of salvation and a guarantee that all that
is is God.
Christian Science has at least two practical applications, one
pedagogical, the other psychologicaL In the realm of pedagogy,
it serves the teacher of metaphysics as a superb example of the
consequences to be expected from taking univocally such te:rms
as "being," '"real," "truth," and "good!' Psychologically, it
has undoubtedly been of great benefit to those whose physical
disabilities have been the result of over-solicitude concerning
health and to those whose emotional difficulties have resulted
from fear, insecurity, and feelings of inadequacy. To the former,
the conviction that the body is a mere delusion is a release from
pathological concern for their physiological well-being; to the
latter, the conviction that all is good, that evil is an illusion,
that man is coexistent with God and, in some sense, identical
with Him-all this supplies the remedy for emotional trauma.
Moreover, the Christian Science precepts of morality, neighborly charity, and toleration of those who make little or no progress
in overcoming delusion-non-Christian
Scientists-all serve to
maintain an emotional balance which cannot be completely dis"" Unity of Good, "Ways Higher than Our Ways."

ROSEMARY

ZITA LAUER

counted despite its shaky metaphysical and religious foundations.
As has been the case with a number of deductive metaphysical systems, the founder of Eddyism came very near to
deducing herself out of existence; it is this failure to explain
what reality God's All-ness leaves to man that constitutes
perhaps the chief difficulty in Christian Science, once the
principles are granted. Secondly, there is the ever-recurring
problem of how " mortal mind," which is itself non-existent,
can be the source of all delusion, sin, error, and evil. Beyond
these very general observations, only a line-by-line analysis of
Mrs. Eddy's writings could present an adequate criticism. 39
Certain somewhat amusing criticisms may be brought against
Christian Scientists, however, on the basis of their failure to
conform conduct to theory. First of all, the very existence of
such a thing as a material copy of Science and Health is impossible in the system, and yet the delicate perfume of idealism is transmitted almost exclusively in these vulgar material
vessels. Secondly, no one on the early board of the Boston
First Church of Christ Scientist ever doubted the practical
reality of the coin of the realm. Further, Christian Scientists
have gone to great lengths in constructing bigger and
better, non-existent material church edifices; moreover, in the
" Mother's Room " of the Boston church a large part of the
wall was covered with mirrors, to reflect, no doubt, the nonexistent surroundings. This list could be extended indefinitely;
however, what can be said of Christian Scientists on this count
can be said almost equally of any idealism.
There is, nevertheless, one defection from the pure faith that
is worthy of more extensive consideration: "malicious animal
magnetism," referred to in early Christian Science circles as
M.A. M., the term acquiring its abbreviation because of its
frequent use. M.A. M. is the use of" mortal mind " to produce
some deleterious effect on another human mind. Mrs. Eddy
herself suffered frequently and even violently from the mali89 George M. Searle, C. S. P., has written
this sort of critique on Science and
Health in The Truth about Christian Science, the Paulist Press, New York, 1916.

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTIAN

SCIENCE

fl03

cious-animal-magnetic attacks of several of her enemies. On
such occasions, students of the Boston Metaphysical College, or
other close disciples, would be called in to counteract the
baneful influences of M. A. M. by concentrating on the enemy
and thinking him impotent to do any evil. Occasionally the
students would take turns at guard duty; at other times they
would gather, as many as thirty, in a circle and direct a massed
mental counter-attack against the suspected "malpractitioner." 40 In Science and Health it is suggested that the courts
of our land should take cognizance of such niental crimes;
" Whoever uses his developed mental powers like an escaped
felon to commit fresh atrocities as opportunity occurs is never
safe. God will arrest him." In the Church Manual, Article
VIII, section 6, the writer declares that it is the duty of every
Christian Scientist to " defend himself daily against aggressive
mental suggestion"; Article XI, section 7, states that members
of the church shall be excommunicated if they "mentally or
otherwise, persist in working against the interests of another
member." Finally, Mrs. Eddy herself declared that Mr. Eddy's
death was caused by " malicious mesmerism," by " mesmeric
poison." 41 It would seem, then, that one's non-existent" mortal
mind " is capable of causing delusion, not only in oneself, but
also in others. How this can be remains one of the problems yet
to be solved by Christian Science. However, in view of the rigid
confinement of Christian Science thought to a re-conning of
Mrs. Eddy's writings, without criticism or attempt at development, there is little likelihood that any solution will be offered
in the future, to this or to any of the other difficulties left
unsolved by Mrs. Eddy.
RosEMARY ZITA LAuER

Rosary College,
River Forest, Ill.

•• Dakin, op. cit., pp. 854-5.
" Ibid., p. 227.

204

ROSEMARY

ZITA LAUER

APPENDIX
The consistency with which dates of publication are disregarded by the Christian
Science Publishing Society indicates a policy, though no reason for this practice is
indicated. Such an omission, of course, especially in view of the numerous editions
of much of Christian Science literature, makes it all but useless to refer to page
numbers. For this reason, references are made to chapter headings instead. In
most cases, the chapters are short enough that the passage indicated can be located
without too much difficulty. A further difficulty is effected by Mrs. Eddy's penchant
for rearranging chapters in succeeding editions of Science and Health. Cf. Bates,
op. cit., pp. 153-4, for a table showing the various chapter headings of the first,
third, sixteenth, and last editions prepared by Mrs. Eddy.
With respect to Science and Health, it is at least very possible that Mrs. Eddy
is not alone entitled to the dubious honor of authorship. Ernest Sutherland Bates,
op. cit., p. 267, quotes James Henry Wiggin concerning the part Wiggin played in
preparing the famous work for publication: "I opened the package [the manuscript
of Science and Health, which Mrs. Eddy had requested him to edit] and gave a
scrutiny of the manuscript. Well, I was staggered! Of all the dissertations a literary
helper ever inspected, I do not believe one ever was a treatise to surpass this. The
misspelling, capitalization, and punctuation were dreadful, but those things were
not the thing that feazed me. It was the thought and the general elemental arrangement of the work. There were statements that flatly and absolutely contradicted
things that had preceded, and scattered all through were incorrect references to
historical and philosophical matters. . . . I was convinced that the only way in
which I could undertake the requested revision would be to begin absolutely at the
first page and rewrite the whole thing."
Edwin Dakin's Mrs. Eddy, the Biography of a Virginal Mind, New York, Blue
Ribbon Books, 1930, is probably the best, easily-obtainable work on the life of
Mrs. Eddy. It is well-documented. A "Publisher's Note" in the 1930 edition
indicates the difficulties involved in obtaining a factual biography rather than a
piece of Christain Science propaganda: "The publication of this popular edition of
Mrs. Eddy marks the failure of an organized Minority to accomplish the suppression
In the
of opinions not to its liking. . . . The book appeared on August Hl,
ensuing weeks it was reviewed by a score of men of character and of knowledge of
the subject, outside the organized Minority, in complete confirmation of our opinion
of its importance and fairness. This enthusiastic reception accorded by non-partisans
was accompanied by so virulent a campaign for suppression that if the issue had
been only a commercial one, it might well have seemed the part of practical wisdom
to withdraw the book. . . . Many stores were forced by threats to renolmce its sale,
and many to conceal it." On this question of control of information about Mrs.
Eddy and Christian Science, see Dakin, pp. 392 ff., where the work of the " Committee on Publication " is explained.
Dakin's biography t'ontains an excellent bibliography and a useful index. Mary
Baker Eddy, the Truth and the Tradition, by Ernest Sutherland Bates and John
V. Dittemore, one-time director of the Mother Church in Boston and a relapsed
Christian Scientist (New York, Alfred Knophf, 1932), contains an interesting list

THE PHILOSOPHY

OF CHRISTI4N

SCIENCE

205

of the students who were registered at the Boston Metaphysical College and a list
of books found in Mrs. Eddy's library at the time of her death.
The most important source, however, for data on Mrs. Eddy's life is Georgine
Milmine's The Life of Mary Baker G. Eddy and the HiatOT'!J of Chri8tian Science,
New York, Doubleday Page, 1909. Miss Milmine headed a staff of investigators
employed by McClure's Magazine in 1906 to scour New England to obtain sworn
statements about Mrs. Eddy from those who had known her personally. The
findings of the group, of which Willa Cather was a member, were published first in
McClure's and then, with other material added, by Doubleday Page and Co.
Dakin (op. cit., bibliography) states that he has information, appearing to be
accurate a_nd authentic, that a friend of Christian Science bought the copyright of
Miss Milmine's book and destroyed the plates from which it was printed. Consequently, the book is rare; copies, however, are available in the Library of Congress,
the New York Public Library, and the Boston Public Library.
.

NOTES ON OUR CONTRIBUTORS
WILLIAM H. KANE, O.P., S. T.M., is professor of philosophy at the
Dominican House of Studies, River Forest, Ill., and director of the
Albertus Magnus Lyceum of Physical Science. He is a frequent
contributor to THE THOMIST.
SISTER M. ALoYsiUs, S. S. J., M.A., formerly a professor of philosophy at
Nazareth College, is currently engaged in graduate studies at the
Catholic University of America, Washington, D. C.
DAVID B. RicHARDSON, Ph. D., a member of the department of philosophy
at the University of Detroit, is engaged in teaching and in the
preparation of a work on the philosophy of history.
RosEMARY Z. LAUER, M. A. is an assistant professor in the department of
philosophy at Rosary College and is a candidate for the Doctorate in
Philosophy at St. Louis University. She is a frequent contributor to
other scholarly journals and is a member of the Staff of Philosophy
Today.
QUITMAN F. BECKLEY, 0. P., J. C. B., LL.D., longtime Director of Catholic
Activities at Princeton University, is at present stationed at the
Dominican House of Studies, Washington, D. C.
LEWIS A. SPRINGMANN, 0. P., M.A., a graduate of the Novice Masters'
Institute, Santa Sabina, Rome, is presently a professor of Dogmatic
Theology at Trinity College, Washington, D. C.
RAYMOND SMITH, 0. P., S. T. Lr., Ph. D., author of The Logic of Alfred
North Whitehead, is Master of Students and professor of Fundamental Theology at St. Stephen's Priory, Dover, Mass.
LEO R. WARD, C. S.C., is a professor of philosophy at the University of
Notre Dame, and the author of Philosophy of Value, Values and
Reality, Blueprint for a Catholic University, Christian Ethics.

BOOK REVIE1VS
An Historian's Approach to Religion. By ARNOLD ToYNBEE. New York:
Oxford University Press, 1956. Pp. 327 with index. $5.00.
:Mr. Arnold Toynbee has an astonishing amount of information about a
great many things. How much knowledge he has about these same things
is disputed among authorities. As for wisdom that is something else again.
However, few critics would be disposed to question his methodology which
conforms to the accepted norms of historical research though the conclusions he reaches are often startling. Somewhow he manages to use a
scholar's tools, in an unscholarly fashion at least, in An Historian's Approach
to Religion.
The author has consulted a vast number of writers on subjects ranging
from astrology to Zoroastrianism. He is familiar with the Old and New
Testaments, with Buddhistic and Hindu texts, the Mahayanian bodhisattvas, the classical works (poetical and philosophical) of ancient Greece
and Rome, the German, Italian and French philosophers of the eighteenth,
nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and, of course, with contemporary
theories on man and the universe. But with none of these is Mr. Toynbee
completely satisfied. Nor has he given us his own convictions on these
questions, perhaps because he has no convictions. It would be difficult
to find a book that is so well written and so unsatisfactory.
In the first chapter Mr. Toynbee asks the question: "What is the
nature of the Universe? a question," he adds, "that all historians ought
to be trying to answer." It is certainly not the function of the historian
to discuss the nature of the universe. This is the philosopher's field. Mr.
Toynbee says the historian's point of view is one of his more recent acquisitions in relation to the historic era. But because of his preoccupation with
a time-space dimension in connection with the historian's viewpoint, the
author gets himself involved in a discussion that confuses him and consequently his reader, and this in spite of the apparent lucidity of his statements. For example, he has his historian viewing the Universe, which
includes the stellar cosmos, at one moment and the next moment the
Universe is considered as the earthly habitation of man.
According to Mr. Toynbee, "Man begins by worshipping Nature; when
he ceases to worship Nature he is left with a spiritual vacuum which he
is impelled to fill; and he is then confronted with the choice of substituting
for the worship of Nature either a worship of himself or an approach to
Absolute Reality through the worship of God or quest for Brahma or

207

208

BOOK REVIEWS

Nirvana." This religious issue, he adds, was raised by the recent rise of
the civilizations, and it has not yet been decided. " Man ... having reached
a stage in his history at which he is no longer willing to worship Nature
because he fancies that he has subjugated her-has been torn between
Man
and 1 God as the object of his worship, or between humlih
power or happiness and Brahma-Nirvana as his spiritual objective. (p. 21)
Mr. Toynbee concludes that in spite of Man's victory over non-Human
Nature, the worship of Nature is still embedded in the living higher religions. "Its presence is evident," he says, "in current Hinduism; it is
Mahayana and in Christianity, ·e. g., in the cult of the
also seen in
Mother of God and in the Sacrament of Bread and Wine." (The italics are
the present writer's.) The worship of Nature is to be found even in Islam,
"which is the most rational of all the living Judaic higher religions (Judaism,
Christianity and Islam) and Islam is a match for Judaism itself in the
severity of its monotheism and in the clearness of its apprehension of the
transcendent aspect of God."
In reading this book two facts must be kept in mind, namely, Mr.
Toynbee repudiates the Catholic doctrine of an infallible teaching authority
in matters of faith and morals and denies that Christianity, as Catholics
of divine truth. His appreciation
interpret it, is an exclusive
of Catholicism is conditioned by these facts.
In the volume under review the author gives us a book on comparative
religion. At great length he describes the content of the Higher Religions
of mankind.' Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism-all come
under his scrutiny, and although Mr. Toynbee is careful to point out in
the preface that his object in writing this book is to ask questions, not to
coin dogmas (the phrase is his own}, he does ask many questions and he
makes many affirmations which, if they are not dogmatic, come perilously
close to being so. Yet he leaves the solution of the religious problem, which
for him is the whole mystery of the Universe and man's place in it, to the
future, urging us in the meantime to rely on the faith in which we believe.
The choice of this faith he leaves to ourselves or to chance, ignoring divine
Providence and asserting that we can believe in our own religion without
having to feel that it is the sole repository of the truth. An infallible teaching authority, by which Catholics believe the depository of faith is protected,
is ruled out.
There is no doubt about Arnold Toynbee's place among educators in the
English speaking world. His ten volume work, A Study of History, established his reputation as a scholar and although critics have questioned his
competence as an historian, none have denied his preeminence in English
letters. In fact his literary style is so beguiling at times that the reader
finds it difficult not to agree with Mr. Toynbee even when he is convinced
that he is wrong.

BOOK REVIEWS

209

According to an appraisal of his Study of Hi.story made by Thomas P.
Neil of St. Louis University (The Historical Bulletin, vol. XXXIV, No. 3,
March 1956) , historiographers have both praised and blamed Toynbee.
They have accused him, says Neil, of writing bad history, or of not writing
history at all, of seeking refuge in religious mysticism, of trying to be
a prophet, of writing theological poetry in prose, of imposing in-conceived
laws on the past, of being a positivist, a pseudo-scientist, a determinist,
a poet relying on intuition. While no one would subscribe to this wholesale
indictment, An Historian's Approach to Religion substantiates many of
these accusations. He does write bad history. Mr. Toynbee says that he
is not writing history; he is writing about history. Be that as it may,
he writes bad, i.e., inaccurate history about Judaism and Christianity.
And in the opinion of this reviewer Mr. Toynbee is a positivist and a
determinist. If he were writing in the eighteenth century we should call
him an encyclopedist.
To this reviewer one of the most surprising things in the book is Mr.
Toynbee's unawareness of contradictory statements. True, he qualifies most
of his statements in such a way as to make them appear to harmonize with
whatever else he has said on the subject. And this wholly without guile.
Mr. Toynbee simply does not see the inconsistency of his position. Or
perhaps he is not inconsistent after all. H inconsistencies appear, the
author says that he is merely setting down what he finds. He rejects the
role of philosopher and at the same time modestly disclaims being a
professional historian. Such self-appraisal makes it difficult to evaluate
his work.
Although Toynbee insists that he is giving us an objective survey of
religion, he draws a parallel between Browne's Religio Medici and his
own work which he says might have been called Religio Historici. He
denies any intention of giving his personal viewpoint but insists that he
is giving the viewpoint of the Collective Human Intellect (sic!), which
is the result of professional and personal experience. His own or the
historians'? He does not say definitely. And it is this ambiguity that makes
it difficult for his critics to pin him down. He regards with suspicion any
philosophy of history, yet undertakes to interpret historical and religious
data.
The keynote to his Approach to Religion is the Time-Space factor in
history. "The human observer," he declares, "takes his bearings from the
point in Space and moment in Time in which he finds himself and is bound
to be self-centred." It is the historian's task to attempt to correct selfcentredness, which, he says, is one of the intrinsic limitations and imperfections not merely of human life but of all life on the face of the Earth.
He would have us believe that the initial self-centred standpoint " is natural
to the historian as a living creature."
(Mr. Toynbee's phrase) "Self-

210

BOOK REVIE\VS

centredness," he insists, " is evidently of the essence of Terrestrial Life;
for every living creature self-centredness is one of the necessities of life."
(Wherever capital letters are employed contrary to common usage the
capitalization is Mr. Toynbee's.) Self-centredness the author declares is
indispensable for the creature's existence! He admits that self-centredness
is a sin, an intellectual error and a moral error. "No living creature," he
says, " has the right to treat his fellow creatures, the Universe and God
or Reality" (the two are identified in Mr. Toynbee's mind), "as if they
existed simply to minister to one self-centred creature's demands." This
he declares is the sin of hybris or inordinate pride which brought Lucifer
to his fall in the Christian myth. " Self-centredness," he concludes, " is
thus a necessity of life and at the same time a sin that entails nemesis."
Clearly here, Mr. Toynbee is adumbrating the Christian doctrine of original
sin. Later on he speaks of free will, though how he reconciles these truths
with other statements, deterministic in tenor, is difficult to see. He does
not attribute man's acquisitiveness to original sin but maintains that it is
of the very essence of the human creature. St. Thomas Aquinas says the
proper object of the will is the general good and to desire it is an absolute
necessity. This results from the very nature of the will.
The historian's point of view which, according to Mr. Toynbee is opposed
to self-centredness, is one of Mankind's recent acquisitions. " It was not
accessible to Primitive Man because Primitive Man possessed no record
of the past." Mr. Toynbee is here giving us an explanation of the origin
of mankind which rules out divine revelation as a source of historical data.
He does not deny that the Judaeo-Christian religion like other higher
religions explains the origin of mankind through divine revelation which
is embodied in Christian traditions. But for Mr. Toynbee this is just as
true of Islam as it is of Christianity. His position seems to be that of
the theist who, while admitting the existence of God, is committed to the
doctrine of emergent determinism.
"It is evident," according to Mr. Toynbee, "that the Human Spirit is
in fact in a position to break out of its self-centredness as soon as it
interests itself in the lives of other people in other times and places for
their own sakes." This is a far cry from the pragmatism of William James
so popular a generation ago or from John Dewey's doctrine of the ultimate
perfectibility of man and it is just as far from the Christian teaching on
charity as a supernatural virtue. It is the point of view of one who subscribes to the doctrine of deterministic evolution, though I am quite sure
Mr. Toynbee would not admit this. Admitting the influence of environment
on an historian's point of view he says: " ... each generation of historians
in the Modem Age of Western history has been compelled to write its own
history, of the Graeco-Roman Civilization. Each successive generation sees
this identical period of past history in a new perspective." He says some-

BOOK REVIEWS

211

thing similar to this in interpreting the phrase " Son of God " found in
the Gospel narrative! Thus in Chapter 9, p. 130 he says in answer to the
question, what is Truth?: "In what sense did Christians in those very
early days before the statement of Christian belief began to be Hellenized
mean that Jesus was the Son of God, that He rose from the dead, that He
ascended into Heaven? Can we hold these beliefs in the original Christian
meaning of them whatever this may appear to have been in our own world
in our age? If we can and do hold these beliefs in a different meaning
have we or have we not as much right to our meaning as the original
Christians had to theirs? "
The author insists that he is giving us the accumulated evidence of historical research-his own and that of his fellow historians. What he is
really doing is posing questions on religion that arise from diametrically
opposed ideologies, supernaturalism and dialectical materialism with the
hydrogen bomb at its command. It is his law of challenge and response.
How will civilization meet this challenge? This is the principal question
in the book under review. He does not resolve it though he hazards some
prophecies.
It is beyond the scope of this review to treat in detail the development
of the author's theses through twenty chapters. Nor is this necessary if
the reader remembers Mr. Toynbee's extraordinary ability to place the
responsibility for his views on other's shoulders-historians, philosophers,
religious leaders and even poets. And he makes it all sound so plausible.
Perhaps because to him it is so.
Rejecting the cyclical theory of history made popular by Spengler, Mr.
Toynbee points out that the modern means of communication and transportation having narrowed the limits of the world, a problem in human
relations has arisen that resolves itself into his law of challenge and response,
and he leaves the solution of the problem to the future.
It seems to this reviewer that 1\'Ir. Toynbee, recognizing the threat posed
by technological developments, is urging mankind to rely more and more
on religious faith. " If we have faith," he says, " we shall have no fear
that it will fail to play its full part in helping human souls to enter into
communion with the presence behind the phenomena and to bring themselves into harmony with the Absolute Reality." Is he a pantheist or an
agnostic? It is difficult to say.
The missions of the higher religions are not competitive, they are
mentary, the author declares. "We can believe in our own religion without
having to feel that it is the sole repository of truth." The Catholic position
is that the Church founded by Christ is the sole repository of truth and
that this truth is protected by an infallible teaching authority.
It is obvious when discussing the Church as an institution that Mr.
Toynbee is either ignorant of her teaching, which is hardly credible, or

BOOK REVIEWS

he chooses to ignore it. The author is too good an historian to have ignored
reliable Catholic authorities who readily admit the mistakes of ecclesiastical
statesmen during the long period of Church history-yet he gives us a
thoroughly Protestant point of view on this subject-and Mr. Toynbee is
not, in this reviewer's opinion, a Protestant.
The distinctions between essentials and non-essentials in Christianity
are clearly and definitively set down in Catholic theology. If Mr. Toynbee
had consulted this source of information more frequently he would have
written a different essay in Chapter 19. He confuses ecclesiastical policy
and the reprehensible practice of ill-informed Catholics with sound theological doctrine. And he ignores the fact that even in matters theological,
where the Church has made no definitive pronouncements, the " Roman
Church " freely permits debate.
There is so much that is true in An Historian's Approach to Religion
that one wonders how the author could have drawn so many erroneous
conclusions from valid premises until he realizes that Mr. Toynbee is writing
out of character. Whatever else he is-and the author leaves us somewhat
confused on the point-Mr. Toynbee is neither a philosopher nor a
theologian.
When Mr. Toynbee writes on any subject he does so out of an abundant
store of information. In his own proper field his knowledge is encyclopedic.
But whether he is writing about history, abstract mathematics, nuclear
physics, psychiatry, politics or comparative religion he is always impressive.
And because his writings are characterized by erudition rather than
pedantry they can easily mislead the unwary.
An Historian's Approach to Religion will afford no little comfort to
free-thinkers, to employ an outmoded but trenchant designation, and supply
them, too, with abundant apologetic material. It is the opinion of the
present writer that the book is safe enough in the hands of the properly
equipped-and they should be reasonably instructed in philosophy, theology
and Church history--otherwise it is dangerous reading for Catholics.
QuiTMAN F. BECKLEY, 0. P.
Dominican House of Studies,
Washington, D. C.

The Life of Man with God. By THOMAS VERNER MooRE, Carthusian. New
York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1956. Pp. 416 with index.
$3.95.

As the author states in the Introduction (p. ix): "This book is an
attempt to lead the reader onward in the service of God by making him
familiar with the spiritual life of man with God from
earliest beginnings

BOOK REVIEWS

218

to perfect union of the soul with God." And in the Epilogue (p. 858) :
" ... the all-important concept of this book ... (is that) each and every
human being is destined to be a friend of God."
" One consecrates oneself to God by accepting the will of God. The
more perfectly, and completely, and without reservation of any kind we
accept the divine win, the more perfect is our charity." (p. 216) The
spiritual life of man with God .is the life of charity. Charity, or friendship
with God is never opposed to, but rather demands, the perfect fulfillment
of one's duties in his state of life.
Charity is developed and persevered in by the consciousness of the
omnipresence of God; by going to God through Christ, especially in the
Mass and the Eucharist; by devotion to the Mother of God and her
Rosary; by prayer, particularly mental and liturgical; by spiritual reading
and retreats; by repentance and the practice of tenuntiation and fraternal
charity; by the elimination of fully deliberate venial sin, the conquest of
semi-deliberate venial sin and imperfection; by emotional control in the
development of the virtues. The gaining of indulgences has an important
and official place in the work of satisfaction. The function of the spiritual
director is of fundamental value, for " ... one who trusts solely in his own
judgment may go to injudicious extremes with the result that he gives up
most of his good resolutions." (p. 356)
Visions, locutions, especially the significant substantial
and
other (extraordinary) mystic graces are well treated. That these are not
necessary for sanctity', or full friendship with God, is dear from the insistence on the superiority of the theological virtues. Lukewarmness,
wherein one falls away from his first charity, is a too frequent occurrence
in the life of man with God. It is well described in its causes: habitual
deliberate venial sin; falling victim to the contagion of bad example; socalled common sense; inordinate relaxations however lawful in themselves,
etc;
The fundamentals of the end and means of man's life with God are
certainly orthodox. The author's approach and development, however, are
somewhat different. He uses the inductive method, perhaps too exclusively. The illustrations given are, for the most part, answers received
from " collaborators " to a questionnaire in Appendix U. This questionnaire, a modification of Chautard's Scale of the Spiritual Life, seeks to
determine which of its seven steps was the lowest, the highest, and the
present one for each collaborator.
It does not seem that the illustrations would have suffered any loss of
appeal, rather the contrary, had they peen used to exemplify the application of principles, or of charity, to living. Whereas it is true that current
examples of charity generally influence one more than historical accounts,
still the insistence on the value of ,present-day illustrations because they
are fr_om ordinary people rather than saints seems over-emphasized. These

214

BOOK REVIEWS

ordinary people are striving to be saints and sanctity, though perhaps
only the minority really seek it, ever remains ordinary. Too, the value
of the collaborators' accounts would have been increased had they been
approved by the spiritual director of the individual involved. The author
does not say they were or were not but it is evident some were not so
approved.
In commenting upon these responses and in the general explanation of
the issues involved the impression is sometimes given that the author's
analogies, drawn from his expert knowledge of psychiatry, stress too much
the similarity and not sufficiently the dissimilarity between abnormal and
normal behavior. Encouragement might thus be given to the individual's
proneness to excuse evil in himself. Analogies involving temptation, sin,
anxiety, mental depression and elation seem to minimize personal responsibility for ignorance, malice and inordinate passion. J\1an's knowledge of
the natural law and the ten commandments, his development of the virtues,
their perfection by the gifts; the fruits and beatitudes as acts of the giftperfected virtues, grace itself, and in particular the gift of wisdom perfecting
the virtue of charity (since the life of man with God is, as the author
rightly insists, a life of charity) should receive more prominent place in
the life of man with God.
For example, in explaining the descent from baptismal innocence to the
various depths of sinfulness this statement is made: "The answer, so far
as it is given by our material," (inductive method) " is the lack of proper
instruction in childhood and an inadequate home and either no living
parents to care for the child or parents who had no appreciation of a
spiritual life or were themselves in various ways morally inadequate."
(p. 113) Referring, on the following page, to many outside the Church the
author writes; "They sin, or rather, sometimes in an amoral manner cornmit sinful acts not knowing what they do. They are not really immoral."
And as an example of this the following case is cited: " ... I went against
the natural light of reason and committed serious sin ... I knew my acts
were wrong ... There was a stifling of remorse .... " At the very most the
distinction would be between formal and material sin; better between distinct and confused advertence. But certainly the distinction is not between
moral and amoral. There are no indifferent or amoral acts in the concrete
order of human actions.
Also, the impression is given of an unreal distinction in theology,
especially between the life of man with God in mystical theology and his
life with God in the non-mystical sphere. The author calls these " The
Two Ways." (Chapter XV) "And so we have before us now the two ways.
Let us name them: the Way of Peace and the Way of Patience. Most
devout souls living an interior life walk in the VVay of Peace. But from
time to time their Way of Peace leads them into the Way of Patience ....
And patience hides a hidden peace. . .. " (pp. 305-306) True, peace or

BOOK REVIEWS

215

patience may be the predominant element. But H1is would not mean two
ways, for charity is peace, the tranquillity of order, of love rightly ordered.
The beatitude of peace-makers is the act of gift-perfected charity. And
patience is part of the cardinal virtue of fortitude which, to be a virtue at
all, must be motivated by charity. So, since the life of man with God is a
life of charity, why not just one way, the Way of Charity, with its three
well-founded ages of purgation, illumination and union, each age being a
development and culmination of the one preceding? True, there are extraordinary mystical graces which may or may not accompany sanctity or
full-grown charity. True, the union of charity may be sensibly arid, even
painful, or consoling. But unity comes from the end and in the life of man
with God the end and way are one, namely, God who is Charity.
Since charity is perfected by the gift of wisdom and the fruit of wisdom
is infused contemplation, one would like to see an explicit statement that
infused contemplation is not an extraordinary mystical grace but rather the
normal and summit culmination of charity. The book indicates that the
prayer of quiet (a degree of infused contemplation) is found in most men
who habitually conform completely to the will of God, and that many who
do not attain it do not have this habitual and complete conformity. A life
of charity, then, is man's preparation for infused contemplation, which
ever remains God's gift.
The relation, however, among the following statements, for example, is
not too clear. l) "There are two roads to perfect union with God ....
One goes on through steep, rough paths with little change in scenery. The
other has many beautiful vistas that urge the traveler on to rapid ascent of
the heights of perfection. These vistas are termed in this book the mystic
graces." (p. ix) Q) " Our spiritual life commences with baptism. Baptism
may also be termed the beginning of our mystical life with God." (p. 9£)
3) " Under the term mystic graces are to be classified certain normal and
fairly common experiences of some of those who lead a devout life .... "
(p. 309) In a new paragraph on the following page the author continues:
" One form of the mystic graces is ... the prayer of quiet. The beginnings
of this prayer take place so early in our spiritual life and are found so
generally in devout souls, at least in its incipient forms, that we have given
it special consideration in treating of the interior life. Outstanding among
the various forms of the mystic graces are the prayer of union, ecstasy,
interiorly spoken words." But which of the mystic graces are ordinary,
normal for sanctity; which are not ;equired for this same sanctity? This
does make a difference both for the director and the directed.
Perhaps, the author solves this non-clarity by his distinction between the
metaphysical essence of infused contemplation and its psychological characteristics or manifestations. The metaphysical essence " is something
caused by the divine action on the soul through sanctifying grace .
but Infinite Wisdom and Almighty Power can perfect faith, hope and

216

BOOK REVIEWS

charity-though ordinarily perfected by God's raising the soul to infused
granting the
contemplation with its psychological manifestations-without
soul any quasi-perceptual realization of His presence or the glow of charity
or a conscious burning yearning to be with Him in eternal life. This perception, glow and yearning are the psychological manifestations of infused
contemplation. (cf. pp.
Yet confusing, in the light of the above distinction, is such a statement
as: "Perfect sanctity carries with it an abiding peace and consciousness of
the Divine Presence and the glow of charity .... " (p.
This would
seem to make the psychological manifestations of infused contemplation
necessary for perfect sanctity, and then what happens to the author's Two
Ways?
The third and fourth chapters consider cloistered contemplative life and
its apostolic value. What is, perhaps, implied here would have been better
stated. The apostelic life, cloistered or active, has its vital cause in contemplation. And sharing the fruits of one's contemplation in uncloistered
apostolic work is better than contemplation alone.
Because this book is concerned with the life of man with God it is
necessarily theological. It would seem, therefore, that more priority to the
theological aspects; a more explicit, rather than implied statement, of the
theological causes and effects; less insistence, except by way of explicitly
indicated analogy, on the psychiatric side of some human activity; an
adequate treatment of the virtues and all the gifts, of grace, and such
elements as are found in the life of every man with God; more deduction
from the principles of the spiritual life: these things would have removed
possible obscurities (an obscurity does not mean denial) and made the
work more valuable. The book is completed with a good index and a very
good and well ordered appendix of references to spiritual literature.
There is no doubt that this book will do much good. Any one reading it
thoughtfully cannot but be encouraged in his own spiritual life and drawn
to its intensification by persevering effort. The exemplification of the
difficulties, the progress, the generosity of men and women of aU ages living
in our day in all vocations of life and the subsequent rewards of the peace
and joy from the greater generosity of God can and should give every man
pause to ponder his life with God-or without God. A sincere placement of
oneself on one of the steps of the scale of perfection given in· Appendix H
could work holy havoc in the life of any individuaL
Whereas there are many possible ways of treating and stating man's
s;Y..ritual life, the end or purpose is the same. Father Moore has chosen
the inductive method and, drawing on his deservedly well-known fund of
psychiatric knowledge and experience, has turned the light of truth from
this science on man's life with God. The truths of theology and psychiatry,
of course, cannot be in conflict, Father Moore is and has been among the

217

BOOK REVIEWS

courageous pioneers in showing this absence of conflict in the practical
order. The purpose, the end of man's spiritual life " each and every human
being is destined to be a friend of God " the author accomplishes, and well.
LEWIS

A. SPRINGMANN, 0. P.

Trinity CoUege,
Washington, D. C.

Logic and Nature. By MARIE CoLLINS SwABEY. New York: New York
University Press. 1955. Pp. £11, with index. $3.75.
Conceptual Thinking. By STEPHEN KoRNER. Cambridge:
versity Press. Hl55. Pp. 308 with index. $5.50.

Cambridge Uni-

Essays in Conceptual Analysis. Edited by ANTHONY FLEW. New York:
St. Martin's Press. 1956. Pp. £74. $4.£5.
Nature and Judgment. By JusTus BucHLER. New York:
versity Press. 1955. Pp. 217 with index. $3.75.

Columbia Uni-

An Introduction to Deductive Logic. By HuGUEs LEBLANC. New York:
John Wiley & Sons. 1955. Pp. 256 with index. $4.75.
teachers of philosophy and
All of the above listed books were written
three, it will be noted, were published by university presses. AU are more
or less in the field of logic, or at least of logic as conceived by the modern
mind. This new appraisal of logic does bring aU the books also into the
areas of psychology and metaphysics. Finally, each book wrestles with the
problem of semantics.
Of the five authors involved, Stephan Korner emerges as a superb
sophical craftsman; Marie Collins Swabey would seem to possess the most
penetrating mind; Justus Buchler is the obscure member of the group;
Anthony Flew is a judicious editor; and Hugues Leblanc knows how to
write a textbook on symbolic logic. Korner tells the reader exactly what
he intends to do and then does it. He obviously has worked on his book
for years, has thought out every detail, and has the good sense to know
that a summary at the end of a section can be a great help to the reader,
and references to previous statements can make present claims sound more
feasible. Professor Swabey is like Korner both in her clarity of expression
and in the fact that both have a courtesy in their writing which makes
one more sympathetic towards them than had they simply blasted their
philosophical opponents without mercy. ActuaHy, Marie Collins Swabey
can be positively devastating in her criticism but she is always the lady,
sensitive to the opinions of others and willing to hear opposite views.
fi, past master of the art, has collected another fine series

218

BOOK REVIEWS

of essays, the majority of which were written in a polemic vein. For this
publication the authors have softened their vocabulary but not to the
point where the sharpness of their wit has been dulled. Of the five books,
this one prepared by Flew is the most relaxing and entertaining. Each page,
let alone chapter, has an air of expectancy about it. Unfortunately, like
Buchler's Nature and Judgment, some of the problems discussed seem rather
trivial. Unlike Buchler, however, these essays do not hide their meanings
behind coined words or obscure language. Probably the quickest, if not
the most just, way to describe Buchler is to call him a Whiteheadian
Deweyite. Last, and also least philosophically, is Hugues Leblanc. When
he is writing prose and not running off his. code of symbols, he reads something like the barker for a sideshow at the county fair sounds. However,
we can take more note of that later.
None of these books are by Aristotelians or even by out-and-out realists.
Buchler and Leblanc have already been identified. Korner, Flew with
his friends are conceptualists, and Marie Collins Swabey is a rationalist.
The volumes produced by this latter group contain many realistic theses.
In fact, Professor Swabey's book begins like the opening chapter of Aristotle's Physics. Her constant attempt is to read logical principles into reality
instead of realizing, as in fact she must, that she discovered real principles
in nature and that the logical and even metaphysical statement of those
principles certainly is not reality itself. Conceptual thinking is also infected
with the temptation to attribute more to the concept (which, of course, does
not mean "concept" in the Aristotelian versions, but rather, as Korner
puts it a concept is "any sign which in accordance with the rules governing
its use can stand in entailment relations to other such signs ... " p. 199 of
Conceptual Thinking), than to the reality from which all propositions
come.
In spite of these strictures, the books of Swabey, Flew, and Korner have
many fine observations of philosophical value which merit both reading
and attention. Yet, one gets the impression that all of these writers are
better critics of philosophy than original thinkers. Whenever they offer
something positive it is taken from another school of philosophy, usually
their own or realism, but when they present something new it is usually
rather second rate and certainly no great insight into the ancient problems
of human thought.
Taking the books separately for a moment, we shaH consider first of aU
Logic and Nature, which originally appeared in 1930. Passage of time,
plus some revisions, have enhanced this book's value, especially when one
realizes that the criticisms made almost thirty years ago .are just as true
today. Professor Swabey has two points to make: the first is that chance
is not the essence of things, and the second is that reason is supreme. Surely
Aristotelianism can go along with such a thesis and for the most part we

BOOK REVIEWS

219

can accept the conclusions of the author as true. Unfortunately, Marie
Swabey sets up a kind of conflict between reason and experience instead
of seeing sense experience as the handmaid of the intellect. Further, she is
handicapped by her implicit, and at times explicit (p. 39) desire to make
truth univocal.
Besides some very observations helpful for understanding Einstein's theory
of relativity, Professor Swabey is extremely valuable when she is on the
attack. Naturalism, logical positivism, pragmaticism, to mention a few,
are all subjected to some severe and telling criticisms. Many times in one
gem of a sentence she brings into bold relief the weakness of a system as,
for instance, when she gives the pragmatist's theory of truth in these words:
" Human nature is conceived as a sensory-affective ideomotor system, its
ideas arising as late intermediaries in the service of organic needs and tested
by environmental consequences." (p. 116) Yet to the end, Professor Swabey
continues her search for the logical principles which make nature what it
is; she discloses them but leaves one more convinced of the validity of
her opening chapter than the truth of her final conclusions.
Essays in Conceptual Analysis is good reading whether or not one agrees
with a single thing the authors have to say. Peter Herbst states the purpose
of the book neatly in his essay " The Nature of Facts " when he points
out that all the contributors feel that " certain sorts of linguistic study are
relevant to philosophy." (p. 134) As it turns out, all are so interested in
language that one is left quite out in the cold as just how to speak
philosophically.
If we take the last sentences from two successive essays, we may see the
difficulty. P. F. Strawson closes his contribution with these words:
" Neither Aristotelian nor Russellian rules give the exact logic of any
expression of ordinary language; for ordinary language has no exact logic."
(p. 52) E. Daitz has these concluding words in his chapter entitled "The
Picture Theory of Meaning": "Sentences and facts cannot correspond in
any way that suits the needs of a Correspondence Theory of Language."
(p. 74) Nevertheless, in the process the authors do manage to clear away
a great deal of nonsense from modern thinking such as the extreme position
once held by Wittgenstein and the equally far-fetched Theory of Descriptions of Russell. Possibly the best essay of the book is that of Flew himself
in one bearing the name " Philosophy and Language " and which turns
out to be a rather good defense of Aristotle.
Next there is Conceptual Thinking which may prove to be the most
important of the five books under review. It would be impossible to set
forth here the doctrine of the author and that leaves us with the regrettable
task of merely pointing out some weaknesses in the book. Before doing so,
it would be well to remark that anyone seeking a truly scientific treatment
of a conceptualist's mode of thought, Korner's volume is an ideal source
book.

220

BOOK REVIEWS

Aside from the epistemological unsoundness of the book, one must also
object to Korner's impatience with words and definitions which have long
been accepted and are still worthy of use. As a result of this attitude,
Korner comes up with some clumsy explanations of topics treated with
neatness and precision by Aristotle. Instead of using the notion of the
Predicables, the author prefers five primitive relations among his so-called
ostensive concepts: exclusion, exclusion-or-overlap, overlap, inclusion-oroverlap, inclusion. (p. 42) Of course, concept does not mean the universal
for Korner but for all practical purposes they amount to the same thing.
This awkwardness is characteristic of much that the author writes.
Later in the book, for instance, Korner eliminated truth and falseness on
the grounds that no one definition is acceptable to all. In their place he
offers appropriate and inappropriate. (chap. viii) Likewise he finds trouble
with the principle of contradiction (p. 75) and so dismisses it, although
in practice, of course, he continues to use it. (e. g., p. 131) The simple
logical device of the extension and comprehension of a word would have
made his treatment of the hierarchies of ostensive concepts so much simpler
(chap. xvii), but as it turns out, the book becomes more and more complex.
However, Korner is not obscure. A gloss of terms would make it easier
for the reader but even without such an aid, it is possible to follow
Korner's line of reasoning and objective. There are some notable contributions to philosophy in this volume, yet one wishes that the author had
been less casual with traditional modes of expression and more restrained
in his own terminology. Had he done so, he might have produced a truly
great work.
In Nature and Judgment, Justus Buchler follows the same road of original
vocabulary as that used by Korner. It is his own vocabulary and leaves
one with the sad impression that in order to read modern philosophy today
one must learn several dialects of English. The first half ·of this book,
concerned with "judgment" and "query," reads like the minutes taken
at a cocktail party gathering of philosophers at which all sound very
profound but say nothing other than the obvious.
Regardless of the shortcomings of Nature and Judgment, its author does
see the contemporary philosophical problem. As early as page nine he sums
up what has become pretty much the interest of recent philosophical
thought. He writes: " The sign-studies of Peirce, Royce, and Mead, together with the powerful work of Dewey, have done much to invigm;ate the
study of human utterance by suggesting the centrality of communication.
A host of mid-twentieth century 'linguistic '-minded writers, in pursuit
of 'analysis' and 'clarity/ have returned to the particularistic philosophizing of the lesser medievals and have interrupted the study of foundational questions." The subtitle of Korner's Conceptual Thinking. is "A
Logical Inquiry " and then there is Flew's collection of essays which includes
the word "
" in its title. Symbolic logic is part of the trend,

BOOK REVIEWS

221

as Leblanc well knows. Only Professor Swabey seems left out, but she
is one who knows the climate of modern thought and wants to change it,
although she would no doubt admit that there is something healthy in
it since men are again examining methods of approach to all problems.
In the end Buchler gets lost in the infinite, and that is a weakness of
the contemporary thinker. With Whitehead, he wants to explain every
possible influence of any one act. Man is trying to attain divine knowledge
which does know each thing down to its infinitesimal detail. Symbolic
logic is striving to achieve the language of this infinite. It is true that man
desires to know aU things but intellectual knowledge is not a knowledge of
the particular as such but a search for causes which are universal. Some
of the writers under consideration in this review are keenly aware of the
fact that such knowledge of detail is not available to man and even not
useful to him.
Marie Collins Swabey attacks this obsession with the infinite several
times in her book and especially points out weaknesses in the thought of
Russell and the whole structure of mathematical logic. Korner does not
spare Russell either and, perhaps more fundamentally, calls into question
the presuppositions of Boolean algebra itself. Finally, in Flew's collection
there are more frontal attacks on symbolic logic and the quest for the
infinite.
AU of this must be news to Hugues Leblanc who approaches symbolic
logic as though she were still the gay debutante of Russell-Whitehead days.
Her entrance into philosophical society certainly did create a great stir but
the passage of time has done what it always does to the debutante. It
has replaced her with a new one and now symbolic logic does not seem
so ravishingly exciting.
The very title, An Introduction to Deductive Logic, is enough to make
most logicians of the classical logic annoyed. By implication, one takes
it that this is the
A deduction and Leblanc apparently thinks so, as
he treats the Aristotelian logic as something from which a little can be
salvaged but nothing much beyond the categorical syllogism. (p. 17)
Without any explanation he informs the reader that traditional philosophy
had assigned mathematics a mythical subject named quantity (p. 6) and
later he finds fault with the Square of Opposition, (p. 66) but mainly
because he misunderstands it himself.
Nevertheless, as a textbook for mathematical logic, this volume ranks
with the classic one by Quine. Indeed, Professor Quine directed Leblanc
at Harvard. Without doubt, the book will further knowledge of this
subject but one doubts seriously that it will further progress in
Symbolic logic is no substitute for Aristotelian logic, let alone a
and coherent system of philosophy itself. In his Preface, Leblanc tells us
that his book is intended for advanced
hut he does not
tell us in what
are advanced; and also it is meant for

BOOK REVIEWS

graduate work in logic. Besides a very fine selected bibliography on
symbolic logic at the end of the book, there are also pages of excellent
exercises for the student.
Finally on this subject we should point out that some mathematical
logicians do not claim to be philosophers and most philosophers will admit
that they are not mathematical logicians. The fact is that mathematical
logic has not swept anyone off his feet other than the members of the
symbolic logic fraternity. By this we do not want to dismiss symbolic
logic, but its claims to greater exactness are simply not borne out and its
philosophical foundations are open to serious question.
By way of summary, we might say that these five volumes at least
indicate that the English speaking philosophical world is not asleep. The
modern philosopher in America, England, and Australia is facing the problems of men, seeking solutions, defending old and new positions, abandoning
false systems, and abreast with much of the thinking in the non-English
speaking world. Hence, to all these authors and for all these books, any
criticisms not withstanding, a warm word of congratulations is in order.
RAYMOND SMITH, o. P.
Dominican House of Philosophy,
Dover, Mass.

Ethical Value. By GEORGE F. HouRANI. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan University Press, 1956. Pp.
$4.50.
Dr. Hourani's designation of "value" is in terms of satisfaction, and
he believes that it is not possible to substitute for satisfaction some such
ideas as pleasure or happiness. Perhaps closer to his designation would
be " fulfillment of desire." But he would not allow us to say that value
or good-he does not sharply distinguish between them-is the desirefulfilling aspect of things. The satisfaction of which he speaks is a characteristic of the subject rather than of the object. He sums things up
{pp. 118-9): "It was maintained in previous chapters that the goodness
of experience is one thing-actual satisfaction; that that of things is
another-potential satisfaction; and that moral goodness is again different,
consisting of a will to produce good experiences and things." Good is
said to be analysable in terms of satisfaction, and right, as the best or top
good, in terms of good.
As for the ethical good, this likewise is put in terms of satisfaction. An
act is said to be good " in the event," if and so far as it " creates more
satisfaction than dissatisfaction on the whole, including its own intrinsic
satisfactoriness as well as that of its consequences, and distributes this

BOOK REVIEWS

satisfaction between persons with some degree of justice." No doubt this
statement is difficult, not merely because the sentence is long and a trifle
complicated, but because we have to appeal to the immediate in order to
know what " satisfaction " and " dissatisfaction " are and to suppose the
terms stand for something known in the same way by all men. Then, too,
it concludes with "justice," which we must suppose has to be delimited
in terms of " good."
At several places we find ourselves asking whether Dr. Hourani's definings
are enlightening and useful. They do not evidently make headway. For
instance, he says (p. 100): "It would be roughly true to say that an action
is ' morally good ' in proportion as the act is done from a good will, and
that a good will is one which wills an act which it thinks good 'in the
event.'" Now aside from the fact that a will does not think at all, we
seem to have gone around in a pointless circle. The author several times
does this; he never apologizes for it and seems to be unaware of a circular
statement's futility.
It is easy to see that the author is considerably under the influence of
Kant, both in doctrine and in language. He is even more under the influence
of the British " empirical " school of moral philosophers, and has made a
rather complete coverage of G. E. Moore, Ross, Broad, and Ewing. Besides,
he is frank in saying from the start that his chief interest is terminology.
As he says, his is a study in "linguistic behavior." In short, he studies
words.
We fail, for our part, to be overpowered by the" empirical" and factual
study-of good and evil, or emotions, or matter or peace or the personif an author's main lead is a word or any body of words. Here lies the
author's chief difficulty and shortcoming: the relations between words and
concepts and things. He assumes that if he picks up and threshes out
the way people use words such as " value," " good " and " right," he is
making an empirical study of value and good and right. Perhaps he is.
Perhaps these " things " primarily are words; but this is a point to be
shown and not assumed.
It is easy in any case to disagree with Dr. Hourani's observing of the
manner in which people do use the word good. I, on my part, seem to
observe them using it in this way: " Don't do that-it is bad for you.
Don't eat that-it is poison. Here, take this instead: it is good for you,
or take this: it is yet better." They are using the idea "good," we would
say, exactly as Aristotle uses it when he says, regarding a then recent
theory of ownership, that far from building up the state, it would tear it
down: "and surely that which is the destruction of the city cannot be
the good of the city."
In other words, Aristotle is saying-and we seem to be seeing people
mean-that the "to be" (esse) of the state, or of this state, or of this

224

BOOK REVIEWS

man, 1s m some radical way the good of the state or of this state or of
this man, and that that which helps a thing to be is an instrumental good
for it and that which deflates its being or even destroys it is bad for it.
So it seems to us that an approach from the way people use the words
" good " and " evil," does not obviously give a designation in terms of
satisfaction, but more radically in terms of being and not-being. Of course,
Aristotle's treatment of " good " in the first place may be looked on as
an outgrowth of his biological studies. But that perhaps is not a bad
place to begin a study of " good " in and for the living world and in and
for man, and we believe it readily possible to extend his designation to aU
types of real beings.
In other words, it seems to us that Dr. Hourani's approach to the study
of "linguistic behavior" is not based on dose observation. We maintain
that such an approach is not a sound one in any case. A much more
serviceable and empirical approach is by observing that things such as men
and ants and trees and stones are, and that at least some of them " desire
to be," each in its own kind of being. As Aquinas puts it, " Everything
desires to be (esse) in its own type of being." Or as he says elsewhere,
each thing resists disintegration. An empirical study might show such
to be generally, if perhaps not universally, the case. Then we might care
to go on and keep saying that everything, or nearly everything, desires
to be and resists disintegration. We could merely keep saying this entire
awkward lot of words. But people have found it convenient to use " good "
as a sort of shorthand for something in the whole observed empirical situation.
We take them to be saying that what goes with their being is good for
them, and to be assuming-it is a nice compliment to the intrinsic goodthat their being is in some sense their good. It may be that they desire
their being when and insofar as they lack it, and " rest in " it insofar as
they possess it. In that sense, it might be possible to find that a translation
of their acts, even more than of their words, would read " good " in terms
of satisfaction.
An empirical tradition that primarily studies words is the thinnest of
empirical traditions. Word behavior and linguistic gymnastics is the least
of all studies, so far as philosophy is concerned. We must think that, in
the study of values and ethics, it inbreeds quickly-which may be a good
thing. And just at this time when people are looking for foundations,
for something on which to build justice and peace and the good of human
survival itself, and are turning from current intellectual blind alleys toward
a natural-law· basis, nothing could seem
be more antedated than a
of value and ethical value based on words.

to

LEO

R. WARD, c. s. c.

BHIEF NOTICES
Contemporary Philosophy-Studies of Logical Positivism and Existentialism.
By the Rev. FREDERICK CoPLESTON, S. J. Westminster, Md.: The
Newman Press, 1956. Pp. 9.139. $4.00.
The sub-title of this book is more accurately descriptive of the contents
than is the title. As that sub-title suggests, the book is divided into two
parts. The first contains seven rather disjointed studies o£ specific aspects
of logical positivism. These essays are, for the most part, papers read on
various occasions, or articles published in various magazines; hence the
lack of any very strict unity. One misses particularly any straightforward
exposition of what logical positivism is, after the manner of Feiglo's classic
exposition, with the result that one has the sense throughout the first of
the book of being immersed in tangential studies. This is regrettable because it was Fr. Copleston who called attention, in the last chapter of
his Aquinas {Penguin), to the need for Thomists to familiarize themselves
with the analytic philosophy, including logical positivism. Yet this first
section is not without value. Chapter II (" Some Reflections on Logical
Positivism ") is a model of informed and urbane critical evaluation of a
vigorous contemporary philosophy, and Chapter VII ("The Meaning of
the Terms Predicated of God ") offers a distinction between objective and
subjective meaning which makes sense to contemporary intellects of the
medieval distinction between divine perfections considered in themselves
and the human mode of experiencing (analogically) those perfections.
The second part of the book opens with a chapter on Continental personalism (Mounier, Lavelle, Le Senne), and proceeds to a four-chapter
exposition of existentialism. This latter is done according to a now standard
pattern: an introductory chapter on the themes of existentialism, a chapter
on theistic existentialism (Kierkegaard, Jaspers, Marcel), a chapter on
atheistic existentialism (Heidegger and Sartre), a concluding critical chapter. The pattern is standard, but the performance is brilliant. What is
particularly notable about the concluding chapter is that in it existentialism
and analysis confront 'each other in an intellect basically Thomist. This,
I suggest, is significant Thomism.
As is well-known, Father Copleston has already published a three-volume
history of philosophy embracing the pre-Socratics through Suarez. The
outstanding merits of that history are the objectivity of its spirit and the
humane tone of its scholarship. Father Copleston never fails to do intellectual justice to any position, but he never loses his own center, either.

226

BRIEF NOTICES

One hopes that the present volume is part of the raw material of an
eventual volume devoted to the history of contemporary philosophy in
the same series.
JAMEs V. MULLANEY.
Manhattan College,
New York, N.Y.

El Evolucionismo en Filosof£a y Teolog£a. JuAN FLORS, Editor. Barcelona,
1956. Pp.

This work comprises the papers presented at the Congress of Ecclesiastical Sciences, organized by the Pontifical University of Salamanca on the
occasion of the Seventh Centenary of its foundation. The section on philosophy and theology has as the central theme of its studies " Evolutionism
in Philosophy and Theology": a theme, indeed, of great interest, in the
discussion of which some of the most distinguished authorities of the
scientific world on this matter, are here collaborating.
Evolutionism has become one of the most absorbing problems in modern
times. It is true that the question of man's appearance on the earth had
been discussed in the past century. But then it scarcely interested theologians and philosophers. Its study was limited to the :fields of natural
and exegetical sciences. Today theologians and philosophers also have had
to face the problem, spurred by the Encyclical Letter "Humani Generis,"
which not only marked the path, but also stimulated them to an attentive
and profound study of the question.
The Congress at Salamanca limited itself to studying anthropological
evolutionism, since it offers more difficulties and broader perspectives. For
this reason the collaboration of experts in the diverse sciences which have
a bearing on the evolutionistic doctrine has been necessary: biblical
exegesis, theology and philosophy on the one hand; biology, comparative
morphology and paleontology, on the other. The material in this volume
is arranged accordingly.
The following papers were presented: Present Situation and Sense of the
Problem of Evolutionism, by Fr. Augusto Andres Ortega, C. M. F.; Evolutionism in the Light of Philosophical Principles, by Fr. Charles Boyer, S. J.;
Evolutionism and the Latest Data of Paleontology, by Pietro Leonardi;
Time and Evolution, by Salvador Peris Torres; Evolutionism and Com/parative Morphology of the Nervous System, by Fr. Emmanuel Ubeda,
0. P.; Evolutionism in the Account of Genesis, by Fr. Luis Arnaldich,
0. F. M.; Evolutionism in the Fathers, by Dr. Eugenio Gonzalez; Evolutionism, Monogenism, and Original Sin, by Fr. Emmanuel Cuervo, 0. P .;
Evolutionism and the Distinction between the Natural and Supernatural

BRIEF NOTICES

Orders, by Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, 0. P.; Anthropological Evolutionism and the Magisterium of the Church, by Fr. Jose A. Aldama, S. J.
Although the prophecies of the founders of evolutionism have not been
fulfilled, we must admit that transformistic doctrines have achieved a vital
resurgence. It can be stated that in general the scientists of our day are in
some way transformists. Yet, however advanced the situation of evolutionism be considered, we cannot fail to notice the want of concrete data,
which can be forwarded only by the natural sciences. As long as the
creative action of God in the world, and the radical difference between spirit
and matter are maintained, the problem of evolutionism is no longer
religious or philosophical, but only scientific-that is, it must be solved by
scientific methods. From this point of view the attitude of the theologian
or the philosopher in reference to evolutionism would be one of complete
serenity and indifference. Neither the principles of faith nor the postulates
of reason are opposed to an evolution thus understood.
Progess in the study of evolutionism depends :almost exclusively on
paleontology. It is its function to offer the documents to prove the
" morphological continuity " which the precursors of evolutionism found
-to their astonishment-when classifying living beings. After a detailed
study of the data produced by paleontology either pro or contra the
evolutionistic hypothesis, Professor Leonardi concludes that much is wanting
in order to solve the question. Nevertheless, the facts that have been proved
so far, are sufficient to show the reality of the phenomenon of a "limited "
evolution not opposed to a well-interpreted creationism.
The doctrine of evolution is intimately linked to the origin of man as
told in Genesis. Fr. Arnoldich in his study on this point has tried to
concretize the literal· sense intended by the inspired author when writing
about the origin of Adam and Eve. His conclusions may be summarized
in the following points: a) In the texts concerning the origin of Adam and
Eve the sacred author merely affirms the fact of their creation, in which
God intervened in a special way; b) The circumstances of the mode of the
creation of both enter into the mind of the hagiographer as literary means
of expression independent of an objective historical reality; c) The nature
of the matter on which God operated in the creation of Adam and Eve
is not specified; d) Throughout the narrative the unity of the human species
is presupposed. This interpretation of the text in Genesis closes the door
to all integral and transformist materialism, but not to the possibility of a
well-understood creationist transformism.
From a theological point of view the evolutionistic doctrine touchesnay, it can easily compromise-revealed truths. There is no doubt that it
implies principles of faith as fundamental as the existence of God, creation
"ex nihilo," the difference between the natural and supernatural orders,
monogenism and the transmission of original sin. The ecclesiastical magisterium has had to intervene on several occasions: condemning at times,

228

BRIEF NOTICES

marking the bounds of action at others, but always counseling prudence
and caution in so delicate a matter as this.
In this work problems are discussed and explained extensively by competent experts. Undoubtedly the studious mind will find in there pages a
safe orientation in reference to revelation and a compilation of concrete data
and working hypotheses provided by the profane sciences.
FLORENCIO

TESTERA IGLESIAS,

0. P.

Dominican House of Studies,
Washington, D. C.

The Mind of Santayana. By RICHARD BuTLER, 0. P. Chicago:
Regnery Company, 1955. Pp. !233 with index. $4.00.

Henry

Very few critics of the works of a particular philosopher have had the
privilege accorded to Fr. Butler. He studied Santayana's philosophy
through the mouth of Santayana himself. For two years, almost to the day
of Santayana's death, he conversed weekly with the noted author, and
learned at first hand the full matured views of this unusual man. For
instance, he records that Santayana advised him not to use the five-volume
work, The Life of Reason, which is generally considered his greatest contribution but which he regarded as puerile and generally inadequate. Moreover, he was able to evaluate with considerable ease the elements of the
philosophical structure erected by Santayana inasmuch as he was allowed
to use Santayana's own annotated texts and to question him on the sources
and implications of his doctrine.
As a consequence of this unusual experience, Fr. Butler's evaluation
stands uniquely as a contribution of the first order to an understanding
of the mind of Santayana. It is not an exaggeration to say that anyone
interested in Santayana will have to consult this book, however much he
may be unwilling to accept the Thomistic critique of Santayana's philosophy
with which it concludes.
The book is divided into three parts. The first part-Backgroundsketches the elements that assisted Santayana in the formulation of his
view, the point being here made that the subjective, self-regarding approach
to philosophy is in the main the chief conditioning factor of the modern
approach, a personal epislemological adjustment to the real, with the
present-day philosopher still peering over the shoulders of Descartes and
Kant. Santayana was no exception. His main preoccupation was the determination of the nature of the really real, and what we know of it. Conditioned by his passionate attachment to materialism and Platonic idealism,
an objectively irreconcilable pair of philosophical attitudes, he evolved his

BRIEF NOTICES

philosophy of essences. Although he committed himself to a realist position,
his relation with reality rests on the most tenuous of premises.
In the second part-Exposition-the elements of Santayana's philosophy
are set forth: his deification of matter, which is the source of all that ispsyche or soul and spirit being mere modifications or evolutions of matter;
his notion of essence grasped by intuition, essence having no causal or
understood connection with existence, "irrational existence," which alone
is the object of knowledge, a knowledge which is achieved by " animal
faith," a naive trust or crude belief that something is " outside." The
principal occupation of the philosopher is the contemplation of the essences,
an experience of mystical exaltation and beauty in which knowledge as
such plays no part.
The third part-Criticism-passes
a penetrating judgment on the flaws
in Santayana's philosophy, and is to be recommended as a general epistemological critique on all the quasi-realist attempts to bridge the gap between
" what knows " and " what is to be known." Here the author points out
definitively where Santayana's theory has been tried at the bar of common
sense and the degree to which it has been found wanting.
The last few pages of the book-In Retrospect-contain some personal
reflections of the author on the last days of Santayana. Without doubt the
only one who will ever understand this unfortunate man will be a Catholic.
The Catholic faith was like a magnet that drew him throughout his life.
His whole life was a twisted tribute to the faith he admired but could not
accept. While he resisted its implications, he loved the beauty of the liturgy,
the person of Christ, the doctrinal orderliness of the Catholic Church. He
revered the Blessed Virgin and upbraided Protestantism for having rejected
her role in Christian life. At the same time he vigorously maintained his
materialism to the end. As one author has put his viewpoint: "there is
no God and Mary is His Mother." Only a Catholic priest could have
written the last word on Santayana. Fr. Butler has had that honor.
1

RoBERT

!J

F. CoNWAY, 0. P.

Trinity Coflege,
Washington, D. C.

Toward the Summit. By RAYMOND LEOPOLD BRUCKBERGER, 0. P. Translated by Sister M. Carnine, 0. S. F. and Alastair Guinan. New York:
P. J. Kenedy and Sons, 1956. Pp. 160.
This volume comprises three essays on the spiritual life written by Father
Bruckberger for French periodicals. For this reason there is lacking a unity
of theme which the reader may fail to understand unless he has read the
fine print on the fly-leaf. He win be at a loss in comprehending how

230

BRIEF NOTICES

anyone who needed the first lecture (and the author explicitly aims this
essay at those who need it) could possibly understand the third. For the
first essay (Credo in Unum Deum), on the existence and attributes of
God, is written for that large segment of modern society which either
denies God's existence or has an altogether irrational concept of His nature.
The third essay (The Role of the Saint in Human Society) is written not
only for those who know God but who love or desire to love Him. In
between these two extremes is a treatise (Returning to God) by the one
way given to man-the Sacred Humanity of Jesus Christ, the Way, the
Truth and the Life.
In the first essay Father Bruckberger starts from that dead end of the
modern world, Nietzsche's "Annunciation": God is DEAD, and proceeds
to prove from reason that God is very much alive. The classic proofs of
A,ristotle and Aquinas are presented in language alive with vivid imagery
and startling example. And the author does not stop when he has proved
the existence of the God of reason who satisfies the head, but proceeds
to show the necessity of the God of faith who alone can satisfy the empty
heart.
Concluding this mission in partes infidelium the author passes on to the
next essay (by a different translator) in which he presents the Church of
Christ as the only solution for the ills of unbelief. And in this piece,
whether by accident or design, it seems to this reviewer that there is an
abrupt change in style. This is one reason for the work's lack of unity
noted above. It seems to have been written not only for a different audience but by a different writer. The first essay shows us a writer completely
at home in the language and concepts of modern philosophy. In the second
he addresses a Christian audience in the language of Christianity. Catholic
readers will be more familiar with the style and content of this essay.
That is not to say that it is inferior to the first or that it is lacking in
reader-interest. Whatever interest it might lack for those to whom the
first essay was addressed, the Catholic reader who may have experienced
some difficulty in wading through the involved style of the first will find
the second much more his cup-of-tea, for it is as enriched as the first by
Father Bruckberger's gift of poetic expression.
In the third essay, which treats of the perfection of the Christian life,
the writer makes the mistake of too extensive quotation in a work of
such brevity. It is almost "as much the work of Peguy and Bernanos as
it is of Bruckberger. And in this treatise the author seems to feel that he
has a mixed audience--made up for one part of those to whom a defense
of the veneration of saints needs to be presented, and on the other of those
who can appreciate the mysticism of a St. John of the Cross. In this
essay, too, he seems to offer no free ground for the Christian between sinner
and saint, between the depths of evil and the heights of holiness. He draws

BRIEF NOTICES

a frightening picture of a Pharasaical figure which he satirically labels the
devotee or " human weed." Yet many of the characteristics of his " devotee " could well apply to the common Christian, nowhere near the heights
of sanctity but who is, nevertheless, in earnest about saving his soul:
" The devotee is more apt to concentrate upon purity or security in himself than on the honor of God. His basic motivation is fear. He fears
Hell; he fears the renunciations which mark the calling of a Christian; he
fears to set aside human respect, he skirts all dangers without being
ensnared by any of them, just as a canoe shoots the rapids of a river.
It might be said of him that he is ever inclined to convert the Christian
axiom, ' One must work out his own salvation,' into the profoundly unChristian and inhuman, 'Every man for himself.' His fear of taking a
chance leads to avarice. Now the saint, on the other hand, spends himself
without ceasing, so that he may give his whole life to God. The devotee
schemes and plans to avoid the slightest expenditure of self, the least
experience of suffering in either this world or the next. He gambles, indeed,
on holiness; but his gambling is always very careful, like that of those
cold gamblers who play roulette to the limit of ten francs each Sunday,
but who despise one who would allow himself to be ruined by a passionate
love of gambling.
" The devotee goes just so far in sin. He never burns his boats. The
sacrament of Penance appears to him as a way in which he may easily
reckon up the balance sheet of his evil deeds, whenever his good standing
in the sight of God appears definitely uncertain, and achieve once more
a clean slate. The devotee is remarkably astute, for he can dispense himself from the obligations incumbent upon members of human society by
invoking supernatural privileges, while at the same time he will plead
duties of his temporal state in order to excuse his disregard for the stricter
construction of the Gospel call to repentance. He is as busy as the beaver
who builds his dwelling place in the piles of a dock, and is thus equally
at the mercy of the hazards of land and water. And after all this, what?
In such an existence where is there room for the Cross of Christ? "
This reviewer could be wrong but it seems to him that Father Bruckberger has given here a perfect description of the imperfectly contrite.
And even for such, according to the opinion of the best theologians and the
dogmatic declaration of the Church, there is room in our Father's house.
It is for such that Purgatory exists. Hell may get not a few who persist
in that way of life but Divine Mercy will gather in many by imposing the
Cross they dread so much.
JAMEs

Dominican House. of Studies,
Washington, D. C.

R. CoFFEY, O.P.

BRIEF NOTICES

Calvin and Augustine. By BENJAMIN B. WARFIELD. Philadelphia: The
Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing Company, 1956. Pp. 515. $4.95.
As a thorough presentation of John Calvin's doctrine on the knowledge of
God, this collection of essays by Dr. Warfield is of indubitable value. The
author grasps firmly and faithfully adheres to Calvin's principal theses:
an innate knowledge of God in man, which is given opportunity to develop
through further manifestations of Him in nature and the .order of providence; the failure of this knowledge to bear fruit because of the corruption
of human nature by sin; and finally, the objective revelation of God,
embodied in Scripture, and brought into facus by the " interior testimony
of the Holy Ghost."
In the chapter on the "Doctrine of the Trinity," Dr. Warfield credits
Calvin with the " elimination of the last remnants of subordinationism, so
as to do full justice to the deity of Christ." (p. QSO). This statement,
together with its exposition, does not appear to render complete justice to
the unbroken orthodox tradition of Trinitarian theology. The allegation
that within the Church, up to the time of the Geneva Reformer, there
lurked a tendency to diminish the Godhead of the Word certainly is not
borne out by the examination of the confessions of faith edited in the
name of the Roman Catholic Church, from the Council of Nicea to the
Council of Trent.
Perhaps the single most significant feature of this volume, however, is
indicated clearly in the title. The attempt is made to forge a link of
continuity between the doctrine of St. Augustine and the system of Calvin.
It is summed up in a proposition cited with approval by Warfield: "Augustine was the precursor of the Reformation, and a precursor without immediate continuers." (p. 472)
The main emphasis in establishing this continuity had to be on St.
Augustine's supposed preference of the Scriptures to Tradition and the
authority of the Church. In the foreword, J. Marcellus Kik affirms that
" Warfield shows that with Augustine the Ch1,uch was the proximate seat
of authority, but not the ultimate seat of authority." (p. vii) The inference to be drawn seems to be that within Augustine's system lies the
dormant seed of Calvin's discovery, viz., that only the "interior testimony of the Holy Ghost" could sufficiently guarantee a saving knowledge
of God in the Bible.
The author's admission that Augustine differs from the Reformer at
least " in the place he gives the Church in communicating . " . grace "
(p. 47Q) is really the foundation of a genuine interpretation of St. Augustine's concept of how the organs of divine revelation are interrelated.
Whereas Calvin postulated from the outset an inner voice giving the
Scriptures the divine credit they deserve, St. Augustine presupposed their

BRIEF NOTICES

233

divine authority as an article of Catholic belief, and then read the Scriptures
according to the analogy of faith. Calvin sought to establish faith in the
Scriptures by a private and interior criterion, while with Augustine faith,
already established, was seeking to penetrate the reality symbolized in the
divinely inspired Word: fides quaerens intellectum. This is evident even
in the places cited by Warfield from the Confessions and the De Trinitate.
(p. 472)

Such an endeavor to make St. Augustine a champion of the Protestant
principle shows the importance of understanding the unity of Catholic
doctrine in the witness of the Fathers of the Church.
BoNAVENTURE

M. ScHEPERs, 0. P.

Dcnninican HoU$e of Studies,

Washington, D. 0.

Sapientia Aquinatis. Relationes, Communicationes et Acta lV Congressm
Thomistic lnternationalis. Rome: Catholic Book Agency, 1956. Vols.
Pp. 934.

Although the Fourth International Thomistic Congress was held in Rome
in September 1955, the Record of the Proceedings has just been received.
In two volumes of almost 1000 pages, it comprises papers read, under three
headings or sections, at this Congress. For each section a summary and
evaluation of the papers was given to the delegates by two competent
authorities.
In the first
Relation of St. Thomas' Teaching to the
Sciences in their present state-twenty-two papers appear, in English,
French, Latin, Spanish and German. (Papers were read in these languages
in the other groups as welL) These papers treat of various aspects of
the relations of Thomism with the natural and physical sciences.
The second section of nineteen papers discusses The Relation of St.
Thomas' Teaching to Hegelian and Marxist Dialectic, providing some
remarkable logical and metaphysical analyses of these two dialectical
systems.
In the third section, twenty-five papers discuss The Relation of St.
Thomas' Teaching to Existentialism. Here are covered various questions
raised by Existentialism, with a serious attempt at evaluation both of the
positive good in it, as well as of the errors and exaggerations to which it
gives rise.
Also included are the Address of welcome to the delegates by His Holiness,
Pope Pius XU (which appeared in the Autumn 1955 number of The Pope
Speaks) , together with twelve papers of wider scope read at the General
Sessions of the Congress.

BOOKS RECEIVED
Ashley Montagu, N. F. (ed.). Toynbee and History. Boston: Porter
Sargent Publisher, Hl56. Pp. 385. $5.00.
Athenagoras, tr. by Joseph Crehan, §. J. Embassy for the Christians and
The Resurrection of the Dead. Ancient Christian Writers, Vol. 23.
Westminster: Newman, 1956. Pp. 193 with index.
Aumann, 0. P., Jordan and Greenstock, David. The Meaning of Christian
Perfection. St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1957. Pp. 162. $3.25.
Ayer, A. J. The Problem of Knowledge. New York: St. Martin's Press,
1957. Pp. 258 with index. $4.50.
Bauer, Walter. Tr. by W. F. Arndt and F. W. Gingrich. A Greek-English
Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature.
Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1957. Pp. 909. $14.00.
Bochenski, 0. P., I. M. and others. The Problem of Universals. Notre
Dame: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 1956. Pp. 54. $.95.
Cassirer, Ernst. Determinism and Indeterminism in Modern Physics. New
Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1956. Pp. 250 with index. $5.00.
Colaboracion Cientifica de los Profesores y Doctores de Ia Universad. Miscelanea Comillas, XXIV. Santander: Universidad Pontificia ComiHas,
1955. Pp. 480.
Coomaraswamy, Ananda K. The Transformation of Nature in Art. New
York: Dover Publications, 1957. Pp. 245. $1.75 paper.
Cumont, Franz. Oriental Religions in Roman Paganism. New York:
Dover Publications, 1947. Pp. 320 with index. $1.75 paper.
---. The Mysteries of Mithra. New York: Dover Publications, 1957.
Pp. 239 with index. $1.85 paper.
Danielou, S. J., Jean. The Bible and the Liturgy. Notre Dame: University
of Notre Dame Press, 1956. Pp. 372 with index. $5.25.
Dawson, Christopher. Ed. by John J. Mulloy. The Dynamics of World
History. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1957. Pp. 489 with index. $6.00.
Dempsey, 0. F. M. Cap., Peter, J. R. Freud, Psychoanalysis, Catholicism.
Chicago: Henry Regnery Co. 1956. Pp. 209. $3.00.
De Vitis, A. A. Roman Holiday. The Catholic Novels of Evelyn Waugh.
New York: Bookman Associates, 1956. Pp. 88. $2.50.
Ferguson, John. Pelagius. Cambridge: W. Heffer & Sons Ltd., 1957. Pp.
206 with indexes. lliis.

BOOKS RECEIVED

235

Gallagher, Donald A. (ed.). Some Philosophers of Education. Milwaukee:
Marquette Univ. Press., 1956. Pp. lHl. $2.50.
Hatch, Alden and Walshe. Crown of Glory (the life of Pope Pius XII).
New York: Hawthorn Books Inc., Hl57. Pp. 251 with index. $4.95.
Healy, 0. Carm., Kilian J. Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the
Carmelite Reforms of Touraine. Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum,
1956. Pp. 184.
Hocking, William Ernest. The Coming World Civilization. New York:
Harper & Bros., 1956. Pp. 210 with index. $3.75.
Hugh of St. Victor. Tr. by Kevin Herbert. Soliloquy on the Earnest
Money of the Soul. Milwaukee: Marquette Univ. Press, 1956. Pp.
48. $1.50.
Jung, C. G. Tr. by R. F. Hull. Symbols of Transformation. (Vol. V of
his collected works.) New York: Pantheon Books, 1956. Pp. 596 with
index. $5.00.
Maimonides, Moses. Guide for the Perplexed. New York: Dover Publications, 1957. Pp. 473 with indexes. $1.85 (paper).
Maisels, M. Thought and Truth. New York: Bookman Associates, 1956.
Pp. 359 with index. $5.00.
Mandelbaum, M., Gramlich, F., Anderson, A. (editors). Philosophic
Problems. New York: The Macmillan Co., 1957. Pp. 762. $6.25.
Martin, Wm. Oliver. The Order and Integration of Knowledge. Ann Arbor:
University of Michigan Press, 1957. Pp. 355. $6.50.
Mora, Jose Ferrater. Ortega y Gasset. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1957. Pp. 69. $2.50.
Nelson, Leonard. System of Ethics. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University
Press, 1956. Pp. 308 with index. $5.00.
Noon, S. J., Wm. T. Joyce and Aquinas. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1957. Pp. 167 with index. $3.75.
Paul, Leon (ed.). The Vatican Picture Book. New York: Greystone
Press, 1956. 80 photographs and accompanying text. $2.95.
Proceedings of the Second Annual Convention of the Society of Catholic
College Teachers of Sacred Doctrine. Washington, D. C.: Dunbarton
College of the Holy Cross, 1956. Pp. 131. $3.00.
Russell, Bertrand. Logic and Knowledge (Essays 1901-1950). New York:
Macmillan, 1957. Pp. 382. $4.50.
Sambursky, S. The Physical World of the Greeks. New York: Macmillan,
1956. Pp. 255. $4.00.
Sapientia Aquinatis: Relationes, Communicationes et Acta IV Congressus
Thomistici Internationalis 1955. Rome: Catholic Book Agency, 1956.
Pp. Vol. I, 604; Vol. II, 324.

236

BOOKS RECEIVED

Sinnott, Edmund W. Matter, Mind and Man. New York: Harper &
Brothers, 1957. Pp. 225. $3.50.
Sullivan, S. J., John J. The Commandment of Love. New York: Vantage
Press, 1957. Pp. 138. $2.75.
Ten Hoor, Marten. Certainties and Uncertainties in Education. Columbus:
Ohio State Univ. Press, 1955. Pp. 56.
Tensing, Rev. Robert H. A Comparison of the Aristotelian-Thomistic
Analysis of Thought with the Analysis of a Modern American Philosopher. River Forest: Studium Generale of St. Thomas Aquinas.
Pp. 93.
Tertullian, Tr. by J. H. Waszink. The Treatise Against Hermogenes.
Ancient Christian Writers, Vol. 24. Westminster: Newman, 1957.
Pp. 178 with index. $3.25.
Tulane Studies in Philosophy, Vol. V. New Orleans: Tulane Univ., 1956.
Pp. 91. $2.00.
Wadham, Juliana. The Case of Cornelia Connelly. New York: Pantheon
Books, 1957. Pp. 276 with index. $3.75.
Wiesinger, 0. C. S. 0., Alois. Occult Phenomena in the Light of Theology.
Westminster: Newman, 1957. Pp. 294 with index. $5.00.
Zacharias, 0. C. D. Fr. An Outline of Hinduism. Alwaye, S. India: St.
Joseph Apostolic Seminary, 1956. Pp. 483 with index. $1.50.