THE THOMIST A SPECULATIVE QUARTERLY REVIEW OF THEOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY EDITORS: THE DoMINICAN FATHERS oF THE PRoviNCE OF ST. JosEPH Publishers: VoJ.. XXV The Thomist Press, Washington 17, D. C. APRIL, 1962 No.2 THE PHILOSOPffiCAL ASSUMPTIONS, IMPLICIT AND EXPLICIT, OF ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PffiLOSOPHY OF ffiSTORY 0 INTRODUCTION NE of the most characteristic elements in the worldview of contemporary man is the consciousness of historical time. Over and above the consciousness of physical time, shared by all rational creatures, the accelerated .social transformations of the last two centuries have given the man of today a peculiar awareness of the workings of the time process mhumart institutions. It is for this reason that our age shows an unprecedented interest in the historical sciences. It is natural enough, therefore, that certain minds should turn to " meta-historical " studies as they have been· called, philosophical interpretations of man's historical .process as it has been revealed by the labours of Palaeontology, Anthropology, Archaeology, and History. Among these studies, the work of Arnold Toynbee is outstanding. 1 1 The present study is based upon Prufeaaor Toynbee'a principal work, A· Study of Hiato'I"'J (London: Oxford University Press) as published in 1955 (2nd Edition 201 JOHN THORNHILL Toynbee's essay, it should be emphasised, is not formally an historical work, but presupposes the labours of History properly so-called. The relationship between History, in the strict sense, and an interpretation of the historical process such as Toynbee has undertaken may be understood if their formal objects are compared. (Evidently, they are concerned with one and the same material object.) The formal object of History is the inteUigibility of the past, inaofar as it remains particularized, in the individualized historical situation. 2 Meta-historical studies, on the other hand, seek an . understanding of the inteUigibility of the historical process which passes beyond the (}(Y(WTete historical situation to the universal laws and principles which are realized in the historical process. _ The intellectual light employed by the historian-his historical wisdom, one might say-is not necessarily expressed in universal philosophical principles, rathJ;!r it shows an affinity with prudential knowledge, intuitively comprehending a concrete situation. It is, in brief, a cultural affinity withthe object considered, with the ethos and outlook of the period under consideration; 8 only indirectly, therefore, would the historian employ the habit of philosophy. An interpretation of the historical process, on the other hand, precisely because it is seeking an understanding of the historical process's intelligibility in itself, must invoke as its light the principles of the intelligibility of all reality, namely principles arising from reflection. for Vols. I-VI); 1st Edition for Vols. "'11-X). In a number of briefer works Toynbee has presented various important aspects of his theoiy in essay form. This theory, however, is found in its entirety in A Sttuly of Hiatory. • The object of genuine historical scholarship is not, however, the superficial factual chaos of the newspaper but a deeper attaining of reality, in which the events of the past present an order, a hierarchy of significance, a pattern of casual relations. The worth of historical study will be measured by the extent to which it has comprehended this reality, and revealed the order which is to be found in it. Outstanding among recent studies on the nature of history the work of H. I. Marron, De la Ctmnaiaaance Hiatorique (Louvain, 1954). Cf. p. 47. . 8 It is the merit of Marron's work; just cited, to have established once and for all the importance of this aspect of historical method. · Cf. Toynbee. ·A.. op. cit., pp. 287, 86, 66, 102, etc; u; ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY It was only to be expected, therefore, that Arnold Toynbee's study of history, begun according to an empirical method- · Professor Toynbee constantly calls his work an " empirical study" 4-soon takes on a genuinely philosophical character. In his comparative study of history, the brilliance of Toynbee's powers of induction is recognized by even the most outspoken of his critics. There can be no doubt that induction has a real part to play in a comparative study of history, but its function is to prepare for the formal considerations of such a study, namely, the interpretation of the historical process in the light of philosophical principles: that is, in the light of truths concerning the natures of those realities which are implicated in the historical process, the nature of man and the perfection towards which he is ordered, the nature of society, etc. It is not an oversimplification to say that the basic weakness of Professor Toynbee's essay is his confusion as to the function of formal philosophy in an interpretation of history such as he has undertaken. It is the purpose of this article to show the nature of this confusion, and to point the way towards the true role of philosophical principles in the philosophy of history. On the one hand, as we shall see, our author mistrusts philosophy as such. Since the post-Cartesian philosophies are of no assistance to him in his intensely humanistic study, Toynbee endeavours to found his interpretation upon common sense and upon the metaphorical expression of universal truths. On the other hand, the inherent logic of the task he has set himself forces him, willy-nilly, to adopt a certain standpoint on several basic philosophical issues, and to carry out his .study in the light of philosophical principles. We propose to set out and evaluate the philosophical assumptions, both implicit and explicit, which underlie Arnold Toynbee's interpretative study of history. To set out immediately to criticize the ' ex professo ' philosophy of our author would misrepresent the richness of his thought. His philosophy was born of a reflection upon the 'Cf., Ibid., I, 448. 146, 800, 425; ill, ll9, 129, 188, etc. 204 JOHN THORNHILL intuition of the social nature of man and true human values as realized in history, and he himself bears witness that his efforts to translate that intuition into philosophical terms has not done justice to the realities it contained. Speaking of " the age-old philosophical problem, never yet solved, of the (social) ' common will,' " he concludes: " We know with our minds that we have encountered these civilizations simply as objects of our thought-as intelligible fields of study-but we cannot express our notions of them in words without treating them to some extent anthropomorphically as ' men of like passions with ourselves.'" 5 We consider, therefore, that the exposition best gauged to enable the reader to penetrate and appreciate the mind which conceived A Study of History will be one which first displays the dimensions·· and complexity of its guiding intuitions. This conceptual framework having been traced, one is prepared for an examination of our author's efforts to interpret and complete his concepts in a formal philosophy. These two steps will constitute the principal members of the present essay. Basic Philosophical Insights It would be true to say, as anyone familiar with Toynbee's great work will recognize, that A Study of History is an immense investigation of the commonly accepted concept " civilization," seekillg to reveal the reality or realities it contains. In his attempt tO define the concept of " civilization "-a concept is often clear enough to permit its distinction from others before it reaches that degree of clarity whereby it can be distinctly defined-our writer makes use of certain philosophical insights. First of all we intend to set out the manner in which a penetrating social insight is employed to prepare a definition of civilization. The various elements of definition which have emerged will then be synthesised. In the light of another ethical intuition, this definition will be seen as providing a basis for • Emphasis added. Cf. V, 18, note, where the same problem is implied for Primitive Societies, described as " one and indivisible." ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY the formulation of " laws " and " pathological norms " in the consideration of the life of a civilized society. Even at the outset of the investigation, the concept of " civilization" was not a confused notion, unworthy of a place in the realm of the scientific. llluminated by a philosophic insight, it made possible that sureness arid equilibrium in a painstaking process of comparative history characterising the pre-war volumes of the Study. That intuition, admirable and profound, was-as we have said-the intuition of man's social nature in its concrete realizations throughout the course of history. 6 And, if the philosophic insight into the social nature of man provided a basis upon which the study of history could be constituted, the clarification was reciprocal. Many times the thought of Arnold Toynbee, as it scrutinized the historical realizations of man's sociability, returned to this mother-idea and guiding concept, until the Aristotelian definition, " social animal," becomes almost a refrain in the pages of his Study. 7 The intuition. becomes clearer and more deep, and little by little the elements of a philosophy of society begin to group themselves in the reflections shared with the reader as the author guides him among the vistas of comparative history. 8 What is the nature of this principal insight which guided Professor Toynbee in his attempt to clarify and define the con• cept, " civilization "? When he speaks of " social action,'' " social life," " social heritage," his thought is cutting more deeply than the jejune signification of these terms in common parlance. This new philosophical dimension we wish to suggest by coining the phrase: " primordial social fact." Though the 6 This soundness of social insight is admitted even by. those who reject the general theory of A Study of History, e. g., Marron, op. cit., pp. 20!l-203. 7 Cf., Toynbee, A Study of History., I, 173 and 454, note. 8 In Toynbee, we have perhaps the most of aJl criticisms of that false liberalism which Rousseau bequeathed to the nineteenth century: not only is " atomism " rejected as false, but the natural state ideal of the " noble savage " associated with it is convincingly interpreted as a sign of a malady in the social structure of those who conceive it (V, 377). In this, Toynbee acknowledges a debt to Oswald Spengler, Df!Jl" Untergang des Abendlandf!Jl"s (Munich: 1920, Vol. I, p. 286) . 206 JOHN THORNHILL term is not Toynbee's we have no doubt that he would immediately recognize the concept as his own.9 This concept is made up of two elements: First, the recognition that basic social reality lies much deeper than juridical forms of society/ 0 "That mankind cannot exist and cannot be studied except in a social environment, 11 or that there is no human activity which does not connote social relations: in the words of a contemporary sociologist, " the stress on the consciousness of the end of society in some textbookS . . . makes it almost impossible to subsume peoples as ethnological and cultural communities under . . . a general concept of society, though there is no doubt that it constitutes a community in the most radical sense of the word." 12 The second element of this insight is the contingency of this fundamental social reality-it is a " fact." All men are social by nature, but the constructs which this sociality effects are eminently contingent, dependent on countless circumstances and antecedents of time and place. It was this primordial engagement in society, coming from the very constitution of man's nature, and animated by the restlessness which the antinomy of an infinite end and finite, inconstant means itnplies/ 8 which Arnold Toynbee has utilized as a guiding principle in seeking to define a civilization. In the pages which follow we wish, by means of a series of illustrations, to- show the manner in which our author has employed this intuition. 14 9 The term " social contract " has not been used, though it clearly is in the same line of thought as our " social fact," since this term implies an exaggerated liberalism. 10 Arnold Toynbee's view of political forms and institutions is reminiscent of " Tonnies' distinction between " society " and " community " (Gemeinschaft and Gesellschaft ") . But the similarity is such that if there were any dependence it would be remarkable that a pen so ·adroit at marshalling authorities had omitted to call upon that of the great sociologist. We find a similar conception in pages of de Gobineau cited by Toynbee (le Comte, J. A.-" Essai sur l'lnegalite des Races Humaines," Paris, 1858-5, 4 vols.) -Cf. I, for a remarkable citation. 11 Toynbee, A., op. cit., I, 179. 12 Messner, J., Social Ethics: Natural Law in the Modem World (St. Louis: 1952, pp. 108-104). Emphasis added. 18 The place of finality 'in A Study of History will be considered at length in the latter part of this article. "It is not our therefore, to review the whole theory of the Study, but ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 207 The " primordial social fact " begins to exercise its illumi. native function in the Introduction to "A Study of History": a quest for "the intelligible field of historical study." A " parochial state " is excluded, for its history is unintelligible without appeal to social forces whose field ranges far beyond its boundaries. 15 The higher community which begins to take shape goes by the name of " civilization." The most superficial observation recognizes certain traits peculiar to civilized communities. Although the timespan of man's habitation of the earth extends for some 800,000 years, civilizations are comparative newcomers in our field of observation, having existed for about 6,000 years. 16 In comparison with another easily recognizable social group, the " primitive society," civilizations are few in number. 11 The number of human beings which a civilized society embraces dwarfs the tiny primitive society.l!t On an empirical level, the civilization begins to assume tangible proportions as " an intelligible field of historical study.'! In the reply to an objection that this concept is too vague to be turned to practical account, our author leaves his investigation on inductive lines to make use of the philosophical, insight of the " primordial social fact." After noting that " an intelligible field of historical study " is a social genus, of which " civilizations" and " primitive societies " are diverse species, he sets out to determine the essential difference which exists between them. The generic feature colij.mon to the life of each of these societies is termed" mimesis," and is defined: "the acquisition, through imitation, of social ' assets '-aptitudes or emotions or ideas-which the acquisitors have not originated for themmerely to draw upon a aufficitmtly TepTesentative series of illustrations to achieve this purpose. •• Cf., Toynbee, A., op. cit., I, 17 :If. '"Ibid., I, 174. 17 A provisional survey will reveal 21 civilizations, liVing and dead, while the number of extant primitive socities reaches the vicinity of 650, to B!J.Y nothing of those without number which have perished with the passing of time (cf. I, 147 :If.). 18 Ibid., I, US. 208 JOHN THORNHILL selves, and which they might never have come to possess if they had not encountered and imitated other people in whose possession these assets were to be found. 19 The differentiation of this " mimesis " introduces a specific distinction between civilizations and primitive societies. In primitive societies, as we know them, mimesis is directed " towards the older generation of the living members, and towards the dead ancestors who stand, unseen but not unfelt, at the back of the living elders." In a society in process of civilization, mimesis is directed" towards creative personalities which command a following because they are pioneers on the road towards the common goal of human endeavours." 20 The relatively recent appearance of civilizations poses the problem of the Genesis of Civilizations, to which a special section of the Study is devoted. The empiric classifications of civilizations has brought to light a certain diversity among civilizations themselves. Some are "unrelated" to any earlier civilized society, having appeared out of the historical gloom of the primitives. Some, on the other hand, are " affiliated " to previous civilizations. The problem of genesis, therefore, becomes twofold, and Arnold Toynbee offers a twofold explanation in the light of the " primordial social fact." The theory proposed for the origin of " unrelated " societies need not detain us here, being merely an extension of the principle of" mimesis" already outlined. The foundation of a new " affiliated " civilization on the ruins of another member of the species merits our consideration as revealing a new and penetrating application of the "social fact" principle. Our author points out that a student of Hellenic history and a student of Western history, 21 occupied with identical periods, 19 "In this Study, the Greek words (p.•piuu from p.•p.e'iuOat) are used in order to avoid the connotations of ' unintelligent imitation ' or ' satirical imitation ' which attached to the derivative English word 'mimicry.'" (I, 191, note). 20 Ibid., I, 192. 21 For Arnold Toynbee, HeUas (the Greco-Roman world) and The West (our own society) represent two distinct civilizations. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 209 will find that their studies include little common ground: " they are concerned respectively with two histories which overlap in time but which are nevertheless distinct from one another." The student of Hellenic history follows a particular social stratum which first occupies the surface, then begins to disintegrate and disappear. The student of Western history follows a social stratum which lies below the Hellenic stratum and comes to the surface after its disappearance. Each stratum enjoys a certain historical autonomy. Not that it has no relationship whatsoever with the other; but those relationships which it does have are as with something distinctly foreign. For Gibbon, the student of Hellas, both the Christians and the Barbarians appeared as alien underworlds, as cancerous growths, of relevance only insofar as their agency hastens the dissolution of Hellas. " I have described the triumph of Barbarism and Religion," he writes as he brings his history to a close. Professor Toynbee points out that the Barbarians and the Christians, considered in this relation to Hellenic society, are best described as the "External" and the "Internal Proletariat"; and, in the definition of a " proletariat " given in a note to this passage/ 2 the illuminating part played by the " primordial social fact " is made explicit: " The word ' proletariat ' is used here and hereafter in this Study to mean any social element or group which in some way is ' in ' but not ' of ' any society at any given stage of such a society's history.'' Indeed, here we are in the midst of the best thought of " A Study of History," which Arnold Toynbee will unfold at length in the sections, " Growth," " Breakdown," and " Disintegration." We propose to outline them here ' per modum unius ' because of the analogous manner in which the social insight is used to interpret the vicissitudes of history in each of these phases. During the period of "Growth" of a civilized society, the " social fact " is characterized by a sharing of the rank and file -through mimesis-in the fruits of " creative " effort on the •• Ibid., I ,41. 210 JOHN THORNHiltL part of a minority. 28 The" responses'' of this group of leaders prove equal to the " challenges " presented to the society as a whole and the social body moves forward as one, continually enriching its social patrimony with the benefits of successive " creative responses " and " adaptation " 2 ' " Breakdown" comes to a society when the " Creative Minority " proves incapable of providing a solution to the challenge of a social situation. 25 The difficulty remains unsolved and social disruption follows. The rank and file are no longer drawn on by leaders who-' ex hypotheBi '-have proved uncreative. They begin to withdraw their mimesis. The process of" DiBintegration" has begun. The leaders of society, finding that the charming " music of " has deserted them, turn to the "drill sergeant's word of command" in an effort to · maintain order in the body social.26 The " Creative Minority" of the period of growth is replaced by the " Dominant Minority" of disintegration. 27 The masses, of being "robbed of their social heritage," 28 deracinated in the disorders of a society in crisis, become the" Internal Proletariat": the membership of which is by no means incompatible with the possession of material assets. 29 Disillusioned by the bankrupcy of the social framework in which they find themselves, they are ripe for the germination of a social movement of alien inspiration in the bosom of the disintegrating society.80 In the language of our term of reference, a new " social fact" is born. 81 •• Ibid., ill, !46. •• Ibid., IV, lSI. n Ibid., III, 19i fl. •• Ibid., V, 19. •• Ibid., V, 68. •• Ibid., IV, 119 fl. •• Cf., definition of a "proleto/riat," above. (The "External Proletariat" will be considered below.) 80 Not necessarily alien to the civilization at large, but always alien at least to the " W eltafi8Chau.u.ng" of thB Dominant Mitwritg. Cf. V, 888 fl., "Alien and Indigenous Inspirations." 81 Cf. "Schism in the Body Social," V, 85-888, passim. Some of the many reactions possible in the soul of those called upon to play their part in a society " Schism in in the process of disintegration· are acutely described in the the Soul," V, 876-068. They are " attempts to step out of the ranks of a phalanx whose 'social drill • has failed to work-with the result that the uncreative mass, which formerly followed its leaders through intricate evolutions in orderly formation, .ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY ill The delicacy of Toynbee's "empiric" approach is in sharp contrast with the dogmatism of Oswald Spengler.82 The Englishman is anxious however to glean what truth he can from the work of his German predecessor,83 and we find the Ideaforce (Ursymbol) of Spengler's theory reflected in the considerations of the section entitled " Differentiation throo,gh Growth." 8 ' For Toynbee the differentiation which characterises distinct civilizations is accounted for by the concrete realization of the " social fact." If we consider the various communities into which a civilized society is articulated, we find that-by reason of varied reaction to the common challenge of the society-they develop peculiar traits. This process of differentiation is cumulative. " ' A fortiori,' " remarks Professor Toynbee, " a completely separate society facing a series of challenges quite distinct and diverse will develop characteristics which typify it and set it apart from other civilizations." 86 For the author of A Study of HiKtory, the social heritage thus differentiated, by the very reason of its organic genesis in the frame of a particular body social, constitutes a coherent whole: ". . . it is one of the characteristics of civilizations in process of growth that all the aspects and activities of their social life are coordinated into a single social whole, in which the economic, political, and cultural elements are kept in a nice adjustment with one another by an inner harmony of the growing now stands immobilized, irresolute and apprehensive: a helpless target for hostile attack," pp. 877. The more extreme of these attempts are doomed to failure because " it is intrinsically impossible for the Soul, insofar as it is living in the outward life, to, extricate itself from its place in the current of the ' everrolling stream' by taking either a flying leap backward upstream into the past or a flying leap forward downstream into the future. The archaistic and the futuristic Utopias alike are Utopias in the literal sense of being localities which have no real existence," p. 885. •• DM Untergang., cf. Vol. I, 248 for Spengler's conception of the "Ursymbol." •• Cf., Toynbee, op. cit., Ill, ISS; IV, 11. •• Ibid., m, s77 ff. as Ibid., m, s77-s78. 212 JOHN THORNHILL body social." 36 The elements of a definition of civilization are beginning to emerge. Our next consideration opens up a completely new aspect of the Toynbee theory. The examples we have drawn upon so far concerned the " primordial social fact" within the structure of a civilized social body. Now let us look beyond the pale of civilized society and allow the author to explain the function of social engagement among those primitive peoples who come in contact with a civilization at its periphery. The social ' elan ' of a growing civilization cannot but attract the allegiance of the primitives with whom it is in contact, and their mimesis is directed towards the civilized society's creative effort "as a means of self-education for the party by whom the act of mimesis is performed and as a tribute of admiration and token of friendship for the party towards whom the mimesis is directed." 37 The gradual and peaceful absorbing of these neighbours into the body social of the civilization is the natural consequence. The process is by no means rapid because the inherent harmony of the social heritage 38 leads to its integral assimiliation-a profound transformation. (V, 201). The crisis which accompanies a " breakdown " introduces a distinct change in the social pattern: " the estrangement of the proselyte. 39 The stagnation of society is soon reflected in the mood of its primitive neighbours. The elements of social interaction, which before the " breakdown" were in nice adjustment among themselves: the cultural, the political and military, the economic and technical, now become disjointed,' 0 36 Ibid., III, 152. This coherence of elements in the patrimony of a civilization and some of its consequences are considered in Parts IX and X of the Study in considerable detail. Cf. VIII, 542 ff. We shall have further occasion to consider this topic. 37 Ibid., V, 198. 88 As we have noted, the life of a society in growth displays a harmony of the elements of its social interaction-were this not the case, the society would have failed to meet some challenge in the process of self-determination and its growth would have been impeded (V, 199). 39 Ibid., V, 194, 198. 40 Toynbee employs the apt simile of white light's diffraction into the components of the spectrum. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 218 and the mimesis of the primitives is directed more and more to the superficial: the economic, the political and military-a militarism which within the society itself has undergone a rapid and disproportionate evolution in the internal struggles symptomatic of a society in crisis! The brilliant period of expansion which may follow by reason of this superficial mimesis soon proves to be shallow and precarious. 41 The newly learned arts of war will be employed in resisting the encroachments of the "Dominant Minority," which resorts to force to maintain the ascendency once assured by the charm of creativeness. 42 The boundaries of the civilized society begin to harden, a " sure sign that the Secession of the External Proletariat has taken place . • • • " 43 The implications for the " primordial social fact " are inescapahle. 44 A civilized society is apt not only to encounter other societies around its confines, primitive and civilized, but also to come into interaction with the social 'elan' of another society of a past age. This encounter, called a " Renaissance," 45 provides our final instance of the social insight. In his criticism of "A Study of History," Peterim Sorokin devotes many pages to the fundamental concept of the coherence of individual civilizations and their functions. 46 One of the points he makes may serve to bring into relief the illuminative role of the "social fact" insight. "None of the great civilizations," he says," is dead in toto"; and on a later page he further clarifies his point of view: " Plato's Aristocracy, Timocracy etc., are perennial political systems which ... never perish." 47 We meet here a problem to which Arnold Toynbee has deu Ibid., V, 201. •• Ibid., V, 198, 199, 202. •• Ibid., V, 194. •• The " VOlderwanderung " and other typical phenomena which follow such an estrangement are considered at length in Part XIII, "Heroic Ages," Vol. XIII. •• For a discussion of Western shortsightedness in speaking of" The Renaissance," cf. IX, 1-4. •• Social Philosophies of an Age of Crisis, Boston, 1951, pp. liS ff. •• Op. cit., p. 220, 227. 214 JOHN THORNHILL voted much thought, 48 and the position he assumes depends precisely upon the " primordial social fact." The " social fact " in process of concrete realization must not be identified with ideologies and inspirations, communicated to the social process by means of a "renaissance." Before their vital assimilation into the " social fact," they are not social realities but social "ghosts" (to use Toynbee's expression) and even after their assumption into an alien social ' elan,' they retain a peculiarity and display certain laws of operation: for example, they always retain an affinity and attraction for those elements with which they previously formed a social fabric. 49 To this point of Sorokin's critiCism, Toynbee would reply that he has forestalled it in more than one place: appealing to the social insight. Treating of a similar conception in the thought of the nineteenth century historian E. A. Freeman, 50 he criticises his exaggeration of the continuity between Hellenic history and Western history. 51 The ,"evocation of 'ghosts' from the life of an ' apparented ' society . . . one of the outstanding traits in the morphology of history " can only be appreciated when the nature of " apparentation " and " affiliation " is apprehended with reference to the " primordial social fact." We have set out this doctrine on an earlier page. These reappearing social and cultural ideologies are not "survivals" as Freeman and Sorokin presume, but " revivals," living a new life in a distinct social construction, in the " social fact" of another civilization. 52 •• Particularly in Part X, " Contacts between Civilizations in Time: Renaissances." •• Interest in the literature of another age leads to the investigation of its political theories. A mere glance at the Index of Contents, Part X, will give some idea of the erudition which has lead the author to his conclusions. 50 " The Unity of History," in Comparative Politics, London, 1873, p. 306. 51 Cf., Toynbee, op. cit., I, 43-44; 153; IX, 645-648. 52 The difference between the points of view of Toynbee and Sorokin is not without relation to what Paul Ricoeur has called the various " levels " of the study of history (Histoire et Verite, Paris, 1955, pp. 80 ff.). Ricoeurs' "aspect anonyme et abstrait de l'histoire des techniques et des arts de la et de la conscience " (p. 87) corresponds more to the point of view of Sorokin-who sees a continuation of Ottoman civilization in our own society in " such practices as poloplaying, the wearing of pajamas and the drinking of coffee" ("Social Philosophies ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 215 The empirical findings of comparative history, scrutinized under the light of a philosophical intuition, have begun to yield a clearer understanding of the nature of a " civilization." The elements of a definition begin to group themselves. The pattern of a civiiized society, now mMe surely perceived can provide a basis for the fMmulation of certain laws and functions, the ultimate quest of A. Study of History.58 We shall now attempt to set out elements of a definition of civilization according to the mind of Arnold Toynbee. Such a synthesis is not without value in that nowhere has it been explicitly drawn up by our author. A civilization is the product of a certain process of growth. Social bodies are in healthy growth when their life is more and more interiorized: in the words of Professor Toynbee, " the criterion of growth " is the transference of the field of action from the macrocosm to the microcosm." 5 The challenge which occasions a response destined to give birth to a civilizationof the " first generation " 55-is of a gross physical kind, for example, the desiccation of the Mediterranean basin. 56 The social action which constitutes the successful response brings in its train a new and more interior challenge: the ordering of human relations within the nascent society, and so on. For the student of Hellenic society-as Toynbee was..,-the Greek city-states provide the classical example of the progressive interiorization of the Challenge-and-Response pattern. Until the last decades of the eighth century B. C., social rela4, ..• ," p. 227) Toynbee's study is carried out on a level which would correspond with Ricoeur's "niveau existential . . . de l'aventure historique de l'homme concret " (pp. 82, 87) • •• At least in the pTe-war writings; the change of emphasis in the post-war volume as acknowledged by the author will be considered in a note below. ••Ibid., V, 894. •• We have noted already, at the beginning of this section, the two-fold pToblem of the genesis of civilizations. •• Cf. the hypothetical reconstruction of the genesis of the Egyptian Civilization, I, 802-815. We should note that, for our author, environment alone does not explain the appearance of civilized life, any more than do peculiar racial characteristics. Cf. "Race and Environment," I, 207-271. This problem will be considered in relation to human freedom later in this article. 216 JOHN THORNHILL tions were successfully organized within the economic framework of independent agricultural communities. At that time, the challenge of over-population began to make itselUelt. Some cities responded by colonization; others by a more interior change of their way of life. Sparta chose the ' cul-de-sac ' response of attempting a militaristic expansion at the expense of her Hellenic neighbours. Athens, with her response of intercity trade became " the education of Bellas." 67 But economic success poses deeper problems of the political order. To an economic problem, Athens devised an economic solution; this solution gave rise to a new and more interiorized challenge, the erection of a political framework of inter-city-state law and order, in which the new economic life could evolve.68 The deepening of problems in the field of human relations calls for a more and more perfected sense of . moral responsibility.69 We should note at this point that the benefits of civilization are not confined necessairly to the period of growth. The Universal State, one of the phenomena " that stand out as landmarks in the histories of civilizations" (I, 162), marking a rally in the process of disintegration, calls for a new achievement in the field of administration. The flowering of philosophies marks the period of crisis of a civilization!"' Ibid., I, !U; III, 50 ff.; 122 ff. •• " The Athenians failed to respond successfully to this political challenge which arose out of their successful response to the foregoing economic challenge, and this failure resulted in the breakdown and disintegration of the Hellenic Civilization." •• Ibid., II, 211. In the West today, "when the challenge of Industrialism is being transferred from the sphere of technique to the sphere of morals, the outcome is still unknown " (ill, 215) . The place of morality will be considered in detail presently. 80 " If the Roman administrator was an altruistic agent of the Hellenic dominant minority's practical ability, the Greek philosopher was a still nobler exponent of its intellectual power; and the golden chain of creative Greek philosophers, which ends with Plotinus circa 208-62 A. D. in the generation that lived to see the Roman public service collapse, had begun with what was already grown up in 481 B. C., when the Hellenic Civilization broke down. To retrieve, or at least to mitigate, the tragic consequences of that Roman administrator's life work, and the philosopher's labours produced a more valuable and more durable result than the administrator's, 17 ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 217 Our brief synthesis brings us now to the very centre of Arnold Toynbee's thought, where we come closest to the definition of civilization. Social life is evolved on three planes: the" economic," the" political" and the" cultural": ". . . it is one of the characteristics of civilizations in process of growth that all aspects and activities of their social life are coordinated in a single social whole, in which the economic, political, and cultural elements are kept in nice adjustment with one another by the inner harmony of the growing body social. On the other hand, when a society breaks down and goes into disintegration, it is one of the symptoms of this social malady that the previous harmony between the economic, political and cultural elements in the body social gives way to discord ... " (III, 152) .61 Elsewhere, we find a valuable extension of this thought. These various planes of social life are widely divergent in "value." 62 The" cultural element" is the" soul and life-blood and marrow and pith and essence and epitome " of a civilization, " while the political and ' a fortiori' the economic elements are, by comparison, superficial and non-essential and trivial manifestations of a civilization's nature and vehicles of its activity." 63 The overemphasis, for instance, of these superficial political, economic and technological elements in our Western Society today is a sign of malady, 64 and the far reaching effects of this just because they were less closely woven into the material texture of the disintegrating society's life" (V, 89-40) . "We have dwelt on this Babylonic philosophy of Determinism because it has a greater affinity than any of the Hellenic philosophies with the still perhaps rather callow philosophical speculations of our own Western World in its present Cartesian Age. On the other hand there are counterparts of almost all the Hellenic schools of thought in the philosophies of the Indic and the Sinic World." (V, 57-58) This linking of periods of philosophical ferment with broader social patterns is not without interest for the historian of philosophy. (Cf. also IX, 180 ff.-" The Indices Vols. VI and X under "Philosophy"). Eclecticism of Congenialities "; V, 61 Ibid., III, Emphasis added. 62 We would underline this use of the term "value" in the consideration of the strnctural planes of social life. Its implications will prove 'important in the discussion of social finality in the latter part of this article. 68 Ibid., V, u For considerations of Technology, cf. III, 185, 155 ff., 178-174; IV, 40. !18 JOHN THORNHILL discord in the whole body social extend even to the study of history by Westerners, so that this discipline has become in great part vitiated by a blindness to all but the economic and political planes, upon which the West lives.66 To recognize certain values which transcend the purely economic and political planes and which may be grouped under a generic title, " cultural," is one thing; 66 probing into the precise nature of these cultural values is more difficUlt. Upon analysis, however, the reflections and observations made during the course of the Study bring to light some interesting principles. We have a pointer in what we have already noted above: that social cooperation shoUld provide conditions for realizations which are continually more" interiorized," more" Human." Indeed, societies which (either by reason of the extreme nature of the challenge they face, or because of their misdirected manner of response) conform themselves to a way of life which renders impossible further " interiorization " are condemned to abandoning the way of civilization and " reverting to animalilnn." 61 Their social functions resemble more the instinctive cooperation of insect societies than human society, guided by norms of adaptation and intelligence.68 The implications of this concept will be examined more fUlly in the following chapter. The fine arts provide the most delicate criterion of the ' elan ' •• Ibid., I, 149-150, 164. •• Cf. ill, 195 for an example of Arnold Toynbee's shrewd reoognition of higher spiritual values, in contrasl!ing H. G. Wells and Shakeapeare: the former failed to understand "human character, in his positiVistic "classification and docketing of the outer man," while the latter succeeds " by an intuitive sympathy of one soul with another" transfering the "spiritual .treasure •.• from the macrocosm to the microcosm." "'Ibid., ill, 79, 87-88. •• Thus the Esquimeaua:, by reason of the extremity of their challenge evolved a pattern of life wh'ich rendered them slaves of that environment and made all further civilized progress impossible (ill, 4) . Sparta, on the other hand, set out to solve the Malthusian challenge by a militarization and self discipline whiCh would enable her to conquer her neighbours in Hellenic society. In so doing, she "sold her birthright" in that society (ill, 61). She became the alave of her own militarism, and stagnated while other members of the society gloried in their creative achievements (ill, 67, 70). Cf. Pericles' praise of the Athenian "Commonwealth," ill, ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY !l19 of civilization. The relationship of the characteristic styles of a civilization with its extension is a commonplace;69 What is more, relationship is found between the vagaries of artistic endeavour and the patholow of society. A mania for the colosfor example, is associated with disintegration, when " a declining society is apt to hasten the day of its dissolution by squandering its diminishing store of vital energy in material performances on an excessive scale, not so much out of a wanton megalomania as in a vain effort to give the lie to its own unacknowledged but agonizing consciousness of incompetence and failure and doom." 70 One of Professor Toynbee's greatest insights, and one to which, it has been said, he does not remain faithful in the postwar volumes of the Study, 71 is his recognition of syncretism as a cultural manifestation of the " schism in the soul" which underlies the social 'disorders of disintegration: " ... a negative sense of promiscuity then comes to pervade every sphere of social activity. In the sphere of social intercourse it results in a blending of incongruous traditions and in a compounding of incompatible values ( ; in the media of language and literature and visual art it declares itself in the CUITency Of a 'lingua franca' (KOLnJ) and Of a similarly standardized composite style of literature and painting and sculpture and architecture; in the realm of philosophical ideas and of religious beliefs and practices it produces ritual and theological syncretism" (V, 881) .72 His categoric reassertion of the primary place of moral values within the society's activities of the cultural level is characteristic of Toynbee's intellectual vitality: indeed, Ethics becomes an " indispensable science, always and everywhere '' in the •• Ibid., m, 878-879. •• Ibid., m, 154. 71 Cf. Christopher Dawson, "Dr. Toynbee's Turning Away: Changed Views," Tablet (London), March 1957. 70 Emphasis added. Cf. also IV, 51-5!ill; V, 158. (For another aspect of eclecticism, cf. IX, 180 ff.) JOHN THORNHILL study of history. 73 The observation that dissolute morals often presage social or a deploring of the social consequences of moral irresponsibility on the part of promoters of the press and cinema 75 is not remarkable; but we consider as signal the judgment that " even a merely economic world order can not be built upon merely economic foundations ": 76 moral principles are declared to be the only foundations upon which an international law and order can be founded/ 7 ·The prominent place of religion in " A Study of History " is well known. 78 In the pre-war writings, religion was seen as the deepest foundations of the life of a society. The future of our own civilization was seen as depending upon the restoration of its Christian basis: " ' Man shall not live by bread alone ' ... to offer bread alone is almost as uninviting as to offer stones for bread." Although the social structure erected by Gregory the Great, St. Benedict and the other founders of Western Christendom was avowedly make-shift, it was built, not upon economic sands, but upon the solid foundations of religious "'"Ibid., IV, 195-196. "'"Ibid., I, 446, note. u Ibid., IV, 505. •• Ibid., IV 184. •• " Economic Nationalism may be defined as an exploitation of the apparatus of the parochial state for the purpose of promoting the economic interests of the population of that state at the expense of the rest of mankind. On the moral plane such a policy is indefensible in any circumstances ... " (IV, 174). The statesmen of Balance of Power politics " behave as idolatrous tribesmen; and, in their worship of their prejudice, and covetousness, they . . . (are) prone to break moral laws that they would never have dreamed of breaking, and to perpetrate crimes that they would never have dreamed of perpetrating, in their private affairs" (IX, Cf. X, •• In his latter volumes-those published after the war--our author champions a union of the best elements in all the higher religions. But is this not the very syncretism which Professor Toynbee, _in a flash of genius had divined as one of the most profound manifestations of disintegration? Such a criticism, in fact, is made by Christopher Dawson (Tablet, March 1957) who, while declaring his admiration for the thought in the pre-war volumes, detects in the later writings a "profound residual Liberalism " which Professor Toynbee "unconsciously retains in spite of the scorn 'he pours on Victorian Liberal fallacies." These remarks constitute in our eyes the most noteworthy criticism which has been made of A Study of History. In fairness to our author, however, we must point out that he can appeal to the very first volume of the Study for a passage which shows syncretism was not without possible social benefits in his mind, even in the earlier writings: on p. 88, Christianity itself is judged a syncretism. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY flfll rock. From being a tiny society in an out-of-the-way comer of the world, it has grown like the grain of mustard seed into a tree in whose branches all the other living societies have come to lodge.79 In view of their special agency in social matters, it is evident that political institutions must receive particular consideration in the formulation of a definition of civilization. A review of Arnold Toynbee's thought on this matter will greatly illuminate the teaching we have just outlined: the social structure of a civilized body, and the capital place of morality in the norms ruling such a structure. Just as the economic, so the political plane in a healthy body social should be in vital contact with the values of the more radical cultural plane. In disintegration, we have noticed, mimesis has been withdrawn from leaders who, having proved themselves incapable of the charm of creativeness, must resort to coercion in order to maintain the unity of the body social. Toynbee makes his own the words of Francis Bacon, " honours in free monarchies and commonwealths had a sweetness more ,than in tyrannies, because the commandment extendeth more over the wills of men, and not only over their deeds and services." 80 The " parochial state," the name which ·so often designates that familiar institution in the pages of A Study of History, already tells us something of the limited nature of its function in the life of a society. For Professor Toynbee, this -local segment is not a " perfect society " in the Aristotelian sense. It is merely an institution on the political level of the life of a civilized society (civilization) . It should take its place in the whole gamut of values, the harmony of which is of the essence of health in the body social. If, by rights, the political institutions of local units should play a comparatively modest role in the life of a society, in point of fact, the enormity which most frequently manifests itself in a decadent civilization is their exaggeration out of all •• Cf. also V 198, 875 note. 80 Ibid., IV, 124, note. JOHN THORNHILL proportion to their prerogatives. The stage is reached where "Great Powers" claim to be a universe in themselves, 51 and demand a worship which does not fall short of idolatry. 82 Such a situation soon degenerates into a militarism which devastates the whole fabric of society .88 Arnold Toynbee sees an eloquent example in the history of the Byzantine Civilization. From the eighth century onwards, the spiritual forces which should have been envigorating the life of that society on all levels, were " restricted to a single institution-the East Roman Empire-which was confined to one plane of social life (the political), and had been erected there by its worshipper's own hands." As if that were not ruinous enough, from the tenth century the " unworthy object of worship" was further restricted by the aspirations of two social segments of the Orthodox Society-the Greeks and the Bulgars-to the honours of empire. The struggle which ensued crippled the life of Byzantine society beyond recovery. 84 This is " an aberration into which the Orthodox Christian Society has not been alone in falling. Our own Western Society has set its feet upon the same path of destruction after.having made a promising start upon the path of Life." 85 The enormity of this exaggeration is shown by a recourse to ethical principles of the cultural level. We have already referred to this insight into the ethical foundations of social order when assembling the elements of a definition of civilization. It is an intuition, comparable to that of the " social fact," providing a norm for the healthy functions of civilized society which has proved invaluable to the author of A Study of History. Nationalism is condemned because, as idolatry, it is a perversion of the right order of things 86 which calls for a " loyalty " extending to the whole of the society of which one is a member, and " worship," not of the creature, but of the Creator.81 Idolatry is defined as: " an intellectually and morally purblind worship of 81 Ibid., I, 9; V, 189. ""Ibid., IV, 166, 848. •• Ibid., m, 15o, 167-168. ••Ibid., IV, 404-405, 8!t0 if. •• Ibid., IV, 405. ""Ibid., IV, 808. 87 Ibid., IV, 404. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY the part instead of the whole, of the creature instead of the Creator, of Time instead of Eternity." 88 In his condemnation of Auguste Comte, Toynbee's mind is made clearest as regards the peculiar worship due to the Transcendent Creator. 89 Would not the worship cease to be idolatrous if it extended to the whole of human society, leaving none but God " out in the cold "? A vital question, notes Arnold Toynbee, to which not only Communists and Positivists would give an affirmative answer, but also " the more numerous adherents of a vaguer, yet perhaps just on that account more representative, school of humanist thinkers and humanitarian men of action whose outlook has become the dominant ' weltanschauung ' of our Western Society in its Modem Age." But, demands our author, if the substituter of an "image of Humanity" for the presence of the Living God "'can proclaim: " I am monarch of all I survey; My right there is none to dispute; " is the boast which Cowper has placed in the mouth of Alexander Selkirk without bitterness? The monarch is a castaway; he must " pay for his undisputed dominion by living in a spiritual solitude which is an abomination of desolation." 90 Not that the author of A Study of History denies all place and function within a society to local political institutions, though one could wish for more clarifications on this capital point. The writer becomes at times so engrossed in his thesis of the enormity of disproportioned self-conceit in local segments of a society, that he would give the impression of denying them any legitimate place in the life of the society. Other pas'sages, however, make it clear that this is not Professor Toynbee's intention. In the period of growth, for instance, segmentation of the body social is made a condition of social vitality and progress. When a society is confronted with a challenge, the 88 Toynbee, A Study of Histo1'1J, IV, Cf. Contents Vol.· IV, p. ff., for the many forms of idolat'f1J which can beset a society. The teleological implications of this ethical thought will be considered below. 89 "The Religion of Humanity," IV, 800 ff. DO Ibid., IV, 808-808. JOHN THORNHILL response is only effected by a" withdrawal-and-return" of one of its parts in the role of a" creative minority," and the subsequent adoption of the creative response by the other parts through mimesis. Thus, e. g., Athens became" the education of Hellas " in finding responses to the common problems of that society. Italy played a similar role in the Western Society when Feudalism was no longer serving as an adequate political framework. 91 The false step in both of the cases just cited was not the setting up of a more evolved form of local government, but the failure to respond to the subsequent formidable challenge of establishing an oecumenic political order ruled by higher moral values, within which the intensified life of these newly established units could unfold itself in peace and harmony. 92 In another context, the political institution is recognized as an instrument for the establishing of social order within the local community. 98 The object of our article to this point has been to set out the philosophical concepts which guided the author of A Study of History. We have seen that these concepts group around two intuitions: " the primordial social fact," and the ethical foundations of social order. In the light of the forst, the concept, " civilization," was progressively brought into relief and the elements of a definition were assembled. In the light of the second insight, the definition was further clarified and norms for the vitality of the body social were indicated. The truly philosophical nature of these guiding principles is not difficult to recognize; and it was natural that, in the course of their application to comparative history, they would give rise to the formation of a body of philosophical reflections intended to explain and complete them. Arnold Toynbee's philosophical interpretation of his concepts will be reviewed in the next section of the article. •• Cf. Indices, Vols. III and VI, under "Athens" and "Italy." •• Cf. IV, 18, 175, 184, 819. •• Cf. IV, 191, "The Impact of Industrialism upon Private Property"; V, 48-49. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 9l9l5 Explicitated Philosophical Principles: A. Criticism In the pages which follow, we intend to examine critically the philosophical principles which guided Arnold Toynbee, seeking their origin and measuring their worth. This we shall do, first by critically examining the individual elements of Professor Toynbee's philosophy, and then by showing the illuminating role a true philosophy of finality would have exerted in the thought of our author: thereby giving the section a broad division into two parts. It is not long before the reader of A Study of History becomes aware of the influence of Henri His authority is tirelessly appealed to; his characteristic phrases are echoed in the language of Professor Toynbee; 95 and more basically, his reaction to· the universal application of the method of the physical sciences is reproduced, 96 the very nature of the Creator's intervention in the evolutionary ' elan,' 97 as well as its progress towards a " superhuman " state, are exj>ressed in the language of Bergson's "new philosophy." 98 •• The two works of Henri Bergson many times Cited by Professor Toynbee are L'Evolution Oreatrice and Les Deux Sources de la Morale et de la Religion. Our author prepared the notes for A Study of History between June 1927 and June 1929 (VII, p. vii), at which time L'Evolution Oreatrice (which first appeared in 1907) had gone through many editions. Lea Deux Sources appeared in 1982. From an intimacy shared with the reader (IX, 898) we learn that it was our author's custom to read one or two books at the time of writing the various parts of his Study, to assist 'in the ordering of ideas, and we may conclude that the recently appeared work of Bergson was on his table as he wrote the first volumes in 1988 (Cf. Preface to First Edition and Note on the following page). It certainly gets a lion's share of the footnotes. •• Notably "difference in kind not only in degree," sounding the cry of release from the shackles of Positivism: I, 44, 46, 158 etc., etc. •• Compare Bergson's "physico-morphic fallacy " with Toynbee's "a-pathetic fallacy," I, 8, on which page our author notes as "conceivable" Bergson's conception of the nature of intellect as " specifically constructed so as to isolate our apprehension of physical nature in a form which enables us to take action upon it" (L'Evolution Great., 24th ed., pp. 64-179. The capital "Challenge-and-Response" pattern is foreshadowed in Bergson's explanation of intellectual progress: in satisfying a need by intelligence man creates a· new one, so that consCious activity remains open, free, and creative-as opposed to the hardened reactions of instinct. (Cf. Collins, J.: A History of Modern European Philosophy, Milwaukee, 1954, p. 886). •• Ibid., I, 249. •• Ibid., I, 159. JOHN THORNHILL Bergson's fundamental thesis, the debunking of Positivistic pretensions, would have appealed to the Englishman whose vigour_of spirit and Hellenistic formation had enabled him to attain to a conception of reality which the bleak empiristic tradition of his native milieu could not express. Moreover, how congenial to the philosopher of history the evolutionistic conception of the new philosophy its preoccupation with time and duration! But the genius of Arnold Toynhee is social and ethical, rather than metaphysical. Whereas for Toynhee the metaphysical bases of the Bergsonian philosophy were of secondary interest, 99 for its author, the Bergsonian system is a rigorous elaboration of a primary metaphysical datum, the intuition of duration. 100 We shall see that individual philosophical elements reflecting the influence of Bergson, of which Professor Toynhee makes use in A Study of Histnry, are rarely associated with their metaphysical bases in the Bergsonian system. We have already made reference to a key text in any philosophical study of the thought of our author in which he distinguishes things " encountered as objects of thought" and their " expression in words," and in which he confesses the inadequacy of his own philosophy to solve the fundamental social problem of the " cori:unon will." 101 This philosophical inefficacy may be accounted· for on two scores: one concerning philosophy in general, and the other social and ethical philosophy in particular. The first, touching upon a question as old as philosophy itself, is the problem of universals and the validity of analogy in philosophical expression. It is a problem which is perceived by Professor Toynhee and with which he wrestles many times in the course of his ten volumes.102 He inclines towards the •• Cf. III, 90: " Bergson finds the same bent in the metaphysical as well as in the social 8peculationaof the Platonic Aristotelian philosophy." (Emphasis added). 10 °Cf. Collins, A Hiat., pp. 819-820. 101 Ibid., I, 448. 102 In view of his keen sense of God's ineffable transcendence, Toynbee regards Cf. VII, 467-468, for all knowledge we can have of Him as "anthropomorphic": ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF mSTORY oplliion that all analogical expression is no more than metaphorical, and delights in describing his own notions in simile, in parable, and in " the language of mythology " which " is an intuitive form of apprehending and expressing universal truth " in which " even the philosopher in · his highly sophisticated quest might succeed in penetrating beyond the furthest limits to which reason and logic could carry him." 103 This problem, not peculiar to the work of Arnold Toynbee, is clearly too vast to receive particular consideration here. Once more it is interesting however to notice the influence of Bergson. On the one hand, this philosophical mentor opens the way to the embracing of a reality richer than the atomized data of· positivistic observations; but, at the same time, the French philosopher's mistrust of conceptual knowledge and his exalting of an intuitive knowledge which seeks expression in metaphor and figure, incline the Englishman to the view that any· expression of spiritual reality will be :ilo more than metaphorical. Artist that he is, the author of A. Study of History exploits the figurative genius of the English language to the full. Toynbee is at his best in the field of social thought. On this account, we consider that the most valuable critique of his philosophy will be one which bears upon this particular field. To our mind, the social and ethical philosophy of A. Study of History remains imperfect because of an ambiguous concept of finality in the mind of its author. a summary of Professor Toynbee's view of man's "anthropomorphic " knowledge of God. In his final volume he summarises his viewpoint by likening our knowledge of God to the dog's knowledge of man (X, 1). It is symptomatic of the rifts in . modem culture, so well perceived by our author himself, that a man of his imposing erudition has had very little contact with a whole world of philosophical thought. That such a comparison as his has a long and venerable history in the best Aristotelian tradition of analogy would probably oome as something of a surprise to our author. In this teaching, poetic intution, so precious to Bergson and Toynbee, finds a very precise place. 10 " ill, 269, and note. Cf. I, 200, 278, 297 and note 442; ill, 222; X, 228, for attempts to formulate a relationship between the poetic and the philosophical. 10 ' Bergson does not reject the " scientific method," but he limits the object of intellect to a view of things in the function of mathematical regularities and spatial stabilities (Collins, A Hist., p. 816). This conception cannot fail to recall to mind the Kantianism which it was Bergson's dearest wish to overcome. JOHN THORNHILL The problem of teleology is one with which the philosopher of history· must soon come to grips, for if his primary inspiration is the agency of Time in human realizations, the change correlative with time only becomes intelligible in respect to some direction and term. 105 In this matter, Professor Toynbee's choice of philosophical guide in the interpretation of his concepts could hardly have been less fortunate. If finality had no particular interest for Bergson, perhaps our author would have been induced to look to other philosophical traditions and thus have hit upon expressions much more connatural to his genius; but teleology is a problem familiar to Bergson/ 06 a problem badly formulated of which the issue remains confused/ 07 This confusion is reflected in the mind of Arnold Toynbee. His thought is too independent and realistic, as we shall see, to succumb completely to the impasse of Bergson's decisive rejection of teleology, but this rejection haunts him throughout the Study. 108 106 ln the words of a scholastic axiom: "motus specificatur a termino "-movement has its nature from the terminus towards which it is directed. Our author recognized this truth when he wrote, " In order to obtain a value-scale for civilizations which, instead of being simply relative, is in some sense absolute, we must compare them, in respect of value not only with one another, but also on the one hand with the common goal of their endeavours, and on the other hand with the primitive. societies from which they are distinguished by a common specific difference." (I, 176, emphasis added) 106 The philosopher of evolution, just as the philosopher of history, can not long escape this problem. 107 Cf. Maritain, J., La Pkilosopkie Be:rgsonienne,Paris, 1914, Ch. IV and especially p. 885. 108 The conception of finality which Bergson so rightly rejects is, in reality, a Leibnizian "bogey." (We shall have occasion to return to this rationalistic conception) . Our subsequent exposition will show Toynbee's independence in the details of this doctrine. We may conveniently summarize Be:rgscm:a mind on the question of teleology. With regards to the whole movement of the elan, Bergson was constrained to admit a certain finality Collins, A Hist., p. 887), which he hastens to declare is not the Leibnizian one. In fact, he attempts to confine his explanation of " directian " to the order of efficient causality (Maritain, La Pkilos. B., p. 885). In a particular stage of the elan, he denies all finality, whether it be considered ' qua elan' (Collins, p. 881) or whether it be considered as an act of human freedom (Collins, pp. 824-825). ln the correlated question of morality, teleology finds no place since Bergson's "closed morality" is infraintellectual, while his "open morality" is supra-intellectual (Cf. Collins, p. 845; Maritain, Ibid., p. !t61 ff.) . ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 229 Let us now examine Professor Toynbee's conception of finality, and the manner in which his Bergsonian inhibition prevented that conception from coming to a philosophical maturity and exerting its true role as a guiding principle. Though for the modem mind the term " finality " is immediately applied to the progressive movement of the universe/ 09 this application of the concept is a derived one. For Socrates and Aristotle, the philosophers who :first attained to the notion of finality, it finds its most intelligible realization, as far as the human enquirer is concerned, in the individual act of man, the intellectual agent. It is by analogy with this type that finality is applied to the motion of the universe, under the direction of the Supreme Cause, Intellectual ' par excellence.' Aristotle formulated the classical definition of final cause as " that for the sake of which a thing is." 110 As we have already noted, any essay in the :field of philosophy of history is unintelligible without some finalistic principle o£ judgment, 111 and in fact .A Study of History is dominated from the first volume to the last by the recognition of a " goal of human endeavours." 112 Man's evolutionary progress is ensured when his liberty is properly used to direct his social endeavours Oxford Dictionary. Aristotle, Met. V, !l, 1018aS!J; A certain confusion is introduced into this particular question of finality by the general problem of analogy already referred to. Professor Toynbee protests " ... the idea of 'direction' can have no literal application except in the physical world, and we must be on our guard against going astray when we apply the same idea metaphorically in the psychic field " (ill, 124-1!l.?); which is true and well said. The Aristotelian would hasten to add that, similarly, to speak of an end " moving " is to speak metaphorically: but beneath that metaphor is had a clear concept of a peculiar form of causality (" for the sake of which ") , distinct from the efficient causality of the literal meaning of the metaphor. The Aristotelian moderate realist would maintain that this concept could be expressed, if more awkwardly, in a non-metaphorical We may note that this emphasis of the metaphorical character of finalistic expressions in A Study of History, leads to a certain equivocation in the use of the terms " end " and " goal," which may signify either " finis " in the formal sense or " terminus " in a purely physical sense. 111 Toynbee, op. cit., I, 176, already cited. Cf. I, 176. 110 lbid., 194; III, 172, 878, 888; IV, 5, US 128, 24.4 etc. This goal is described 109 110 as a " community of saints " OT a " superhuman" state. 230 JOHN THORNHILL towards a state of perfection which is envisaged by certain leaders. In other words, man's social striving is for the sake of a certq,in end: it is finalistic.118 In the mind of the author of " A Study of History," man's social ' elan ' is not directed solely by the human agencies involved, but the " First Cause" intervenes in some ineffable way,114 directing the creature towards the goal of "superhuman " perfection. In the Part, " Law and Freedom in History," apropos of the cyclic phenomenon of the historical process we find a splendid metaphor for this agency of the Creator in History: these cycles are not vain repetitions, but " wheels that God has fitted to his own chariot " for the purpose of conveying it " towards the driver's intended goal." 115 True, in its context this. passage is not unconnected with the new emphasis the writer's thesis has received in the post-war volumes -undoubtedly making him more susceptible to the idea of . finality-but in the Parts published before 1939 we find the same conception expressed in almost identical terms. 116 Indeed in the very first volume, " the omnipresent power " of a " transcendent first cause " receives recognition as illuminating A Study of History .117 What is more, the Creator Himself constitutes the goal of human endeavours. 118 118 We have noted that even Bergson found himself constrained to admit a certain teleology in the course of .the " Elan Vitill "-towards the appearance of " selfconscious duration," man. But this cautious admission comes " post factum." He would not concede a foreseeable goill, which he considers as necessarily involving a Leibnizian predeterminism (Cf. Collins, A HiatOTy •.• , p. 881), and which would not square with his understanding of intellectual knowledge. 1 " The interrelation between human freedom and the universal agency of the Firat Cat£Be is not discussed by our author. The coexistence of freedom and certain necessities in the historical process in the section, " Law and Freedom in History " is considered from a' de facto' point of view. 11 " Ibid., IX, 174. 116 Ibid., I, 169, "God's Work" is declared a necessary element in human progress and necessary to the conception which will guide the author throughout the whole Study. The figure of the wheels appeared already in IV, 85. On the previous page the metaphor is the shuttle and the loom, " in which there is manifestly ' a progress towards an end.' " 110 Ibid., I, 249. For a passage in which the Bergsonian inhibition is very evident, cf. I, 801. 118 Ibid., Cf. lli, 890; X, 8. Perhaps the citation of the Koran in each of these ARNOLD J'. PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 28'1 Given such a constant undertone of finality in the thought of Arnold Toynbee, it is bewildering to find what almost amounts to its explicit rejection when it comes to be considered philosophically. Such a consideration is essayed in the section, " The Nature of the Growth of Civilization." 119 Its examination shows the ambiguity which exists in our author's mind, as well as the confusing intrusion of Bergson. " Is this element of direction an essential feature in the process of growth? " asks Professor Toynbee. 120 " Direction" is certainly only verified metaphorically in its present application.121 In the psychic field, we must lodk for a different metaphor, for" the movement of the Psyche is not' directed,' either by a deterministic push or by a teleological pull " (ibid. 125) . The Bergsonian inspiration of this declaration is put beyond all doubt by the two long passages from Les Deux Sources de la Morale et de la Religion which immediately follow. We quote the significant central assertion: 122 "Pure mechanism" (and) "pure teleology" (are both rejected because) "on both hypotheses alike the creations of Life are predetermined, since on the one hypothesis the future can be deduced from the present by a calculation, while on the other it is delineated in the persent by the form of an idea-with the consequence, in either case, that Time is of no effect." To the attentive reader of these passages, two things are clear: firstly, that the teleology which Bergson rejects is the degenerate form proposed by Leibniz,128 conceived after a places indicates that we are passing from the field of reason to that of Faith, acknowledged by our author (Cf. e. g., lX, 880 note). The Creator's intervention just discussed is affirmed on rational grounds (Cf. IX, 174). 110 Ibid., ill, 1U-127.' "" Ibid., m, 124. 121 Cf: note 108. 12 • Bergson, H. Lea Deua: Sources, pp. ll9-120, 288-289. 1 • 8 Cf. Bergson: L'Evolution Creatrice (Paris, 1917, pp. 65-57) Leon Husson: L'Intellectualiam de Bergaon (Paris, 1947, p. 81 note) Collins, A Hiat • ••. p. 881. The conception of Leibniz is well summed up by F. Thilly (A Hiatory of Philoaophy, revised by Ledger Wood, New York, 1958, p. 891). As bodies act according to efficient causes or motions constituting "divine automata" (Monadol()gy, Sec. 64), so " souls act according to the laws of final causes by means of desire, ends and JOHN THORNHILL mathematical model. And well does he reject it, recognizing that it can not be reconciled with the creative function of human liberty. He was in error, however, if he thought that in debunking the Leibnizian conception he had finished with teleology as such. The second thing which will become evident to the reader of these passages is the basing of Bergson's position (as so many others in his philosophy) upon his doctrine of conceptual knowledge as spatialized and imperfect in its representation of reality, apt to assist making but not doing,124 and by means of which it is impossible to " foresee the forms that Life creates: " 125 only by intuition, in which one assists at the creation of these forms, can they be known. When, therefore, Professor Toynbee states on the following page, " a teleological formula may be adequate to express any single term in the progression; but it may become misleading when it is applied to the summation of the whole series," 126 a statement, certainly, which Bergson would not have admitted -it becomes clear that his philosophical mentor has confused rather than clarified the issue in his mind. The hesitant citations which provide an alternative " teleological formulation of the transit from one integration to the next differentiation " 127 means" (Ibid., Sec. 79). " God ... has arranged his universe in such a way that it works without interference from him" (Thilly-Wood, loc. cit.). It is to be noticed that the passages quoted from Bergson already betray an ambiguity of conception (Cf. Maritain, La Philos. B., p. 885). With regards to Toynbee, the philosopher of history, we may recall that Hegel's reinstating of Rationalism-removing the Kantian problem by the expedient of identification of subject and object in knowledge-introduced into the philosophy of history of the 19th century a notion of finality which is not without affinity with the Leibnizian conception (Cf. Maritain, On the Philosophy of History, New York, 1957, p. . It was natural therefore that Toynbee, striking away from the previous dogmatic tradition of the " new science " (Cf. IX, 895), anxious to safeguard the precious element of human freedom, would view with suspicion a dogmatic philosophy of teleology. 124 Cf. Collins, A Hist . ... , p. 846. 125 Bergson, Les Deux Sources .•• , p. 119. 126 Toynbee, A., op. cit., V. The text continues, " ... and in attempting to express this whole--in which the essence of growth consisttt-we shall find the concepts of mastery and articulation more illuminating than any others." 127 Huxley, A., Brave New World (London, 1982, pp. 106, 209); Smuts, J. C., Holism and Evolution (2nd ed., 1927), pp. 185-7 (Cf. X, 285). ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 288 from the pens of Aldous Huxley and General Smuts, can only confirm this impression. The passage concludes on a note of dissatisfaction: " Perhaps this is as far as we can penetrate into the nature of the growths of civilizations ... " 128 So much for the whole movement of the ' elan ' of a civilization. One of the last passages quoted made reference to the teleology of a "single term in the progression," and to this conception we now propose to turn our attention. Let us consider Professor Toynbee's conception of, firstly: individual moments of social progress in general, and secondly: individual moments under the particular aspects of the exercise of liberty and the implication of morality. The most potent principles employed in A Study of History are sociological ones. Clearly, finality (planning, " creating;' cooperating, for the sake of an end envisaged) can not be refused a place in the concrete realizations of social activity. Indeed the all-important "Challenge-and-Response" pattern of the growth of civilizations is basically a :finalistic one. How often the author formulates the goals which were not achieved by civilized societies-a failure which spelt their ruin! 129 Does our author recognize the profound :finalistic truth implied in his words when, discussing the plight of a Soul that has " been called upon to play its part in life in the tragedy of social disintegration," he writes: it " cannot repudiate all movement or aim or purpose " for that would be " committing outright spiritual suicide? 130 That the precise in which this goal will be achieved, and the concrete means which must be created by human genius to reach it, can not be foreseen from the outset does not rule out the presence of finality. The end is more or less clearly 128 Toynbee, A., op. cit., V, IS ... Cf. V, IS, " ... we hesitated to apply (the convenient spatial metaphor of ' direction ') when we were attempting to comprehend the nature of growth." 109 " Arrested " civilizations adopted an abortive social pattern, which did not allow the development of human potentialities. " Broken down " civilizations fail, for the most part, to construct an inter-state political order based upon principles of morality, etc. (These questions have already been considered at length, above.) 180 Ibid., V, S8S-S84. 234 JOHN THORNHILL envisaged-though even this conceiving of the end, especially in the first instances of civilized society, is a splendid creative act! The means to the realization of that end must be found in an heroic process of trial and error, in the pangs of creation. Most profoundly understood, this magnificent creative effort is only intelligible in virtue of the vision of the end, which at every moment inspired and sustained it: to repudiate aim and purpose is to commit spiritual suicide! The Bergsonian alternative of the deterministic " push " of mechanism and the deterministic " pull " of Leibnizian teleology is not complete: the creations of human progress germinate within the spirit of man, by virtue of the conceiving of an end. 181 The social " values " which form the basis of a "pathology " of society reviewed in detail earlier in this article, are-as their name already implies-so many principles of the finalistic dynamism of society. We turn now to the particular consideration of the exercise of liberty in individual moments of social progress-intimately bound up with finality in the Aristotelian tradition, in the spirit of which this critique is being conducted. Arnold Toynbee is determined at all costs to preserve liberty from the philosophies of Determinism, be they Babylonic, 132 Positivist/ 53 or Marxist. 134 But it is one thing to reject certain deterministic explanations of history, and quite another to explain in what manner the free act distinguishes itself from the determined one. It is intellectually exhilarating to witness the powers of induction which are exerted to show forth in history the special agency of human liberty. As a starting point Toynbee notes the fact of the comparatively recent emerging of the phenomenon of civilization. The racial explanation of the rise of civilization is discredited in masterly fashion.m Nor can the uniformity of human nature, reacted upon by environment alone explain the rise of civilization;· an empiric survey shows the presence of Creativity " will be considered in the laat pages of this article. '"•Ibid., ill, 57. '"•Ibid., III, 185 Ibid., I, 207 18 " Ibid., IV, 85, note. cf. p. 288. 181 " ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 285 some other potent, intangible factor emanating from the human agency. Civilization, the initial environmental challenge and the material responses of which were almost identical, display little similarity in their spiritual characteristics-religion, art and even sociallife. 136 To determine the nature of this creative liberty, all important, if one is to comprehend the Genesis and Growth of Civilizations, Arnold Toynbee twice marshalls all the resources of intellect and erudition at his command. 137 Is it the recently published Les Deu:r; Sources, lying at his elbow, which keeps all thought of finality from his mind? The truth is that he neglects to consider liberty as something peculiar to man, and endeavours to explain it as a manifestation of the spontaneity common to the whole ' Elan Vital.' This confusion, in fact, exists already in Bergson who, not admitting an intellectual root of liberty, has great difficulty in avoiding its identification with pure spontaneity and vital determinism. 138 It is our opinion that, were it not for the intrusion of Bergson, Toynbee may have hit upon a more complete solution to the problem. Is he not inclining towards it in his own mind when he writes: " May (it) be that a certain faculty, latent in all alike, was evoked in those particular members, and in those only, by the presentation of a challenge to which the rest did not happen to be exposed" ? 189 Certainly, when he returned to the problem of liberty in the new context of the section "Law and Freedom in History," in post-war Volume IX, he formulates a simple and profound definition of liberty. 140 " The distinctive gift of Consciousnessis a freedom to make choices -between alternative courses of action for the Will, and between alternative ideas and beliefs for the Intellect; and ... this path of 188 The Egyptian and Sumeric civilizations both faced the challenge of the desiccation of Afrasia and initiated their civilized societies by the constructing of an irrigation system by way of :resPonse. 187 Cf. especially I, 27111.; ill, 11211. 188 Cf. Maritain, La Philos. B., p. 271; Cronan, E. P., Bl'3'gson and Free Will, in "The New Scholasticism," XI (1987), 1-57; Collins, A Hist . ... , p. 826. 180 Toynbee, A., op. cit., I, 818. uo Ibid., IX, 881. JOHN THORNHILL freedom has an inner law and other of its own which is manifest from within to the thinking, . planning, and acting personality itself ... " The basis in intellectual knowledge and the finalistic ordering now implied-precisely the elements which were denied him by Bergson-now render liberty intelligible and distinguish it from a blind spontaneity. 141 Morality in social activity is obviously linked with the problem of liberty which we have just considered. Men are free to determine the future for themselves, 142 and as we have seen at length in our previous section, this social activity must be founded upon principles of morality; idolatry-the changing of a relative into an absolute-is immorality of the most pernicious form as far as the social well-being is concerned. But, apart from these valuable principles, the nature of morality is not developed philosophically. Our author's philosophical counsellor would have been of small assistance. Bergson, to quote Maritain's pungent epigram, " preserves . . . all of morals except morality itself." Intellectual knowledge, as Bergson conceives it, could not provide the foundation of a peculiarly human perfection, the ordered self-making of the rational nature: morality in its genuine sense.143 To this point, our critique has been directed to the analysis of the philosophy which underlies the thought of A. Study of History, and in particular, the ambiguous nature of the central concept of finality. Now, we propose to put forth into the field of constroctive criticism, evaluating the function finality could play were this confusion removed. 101 To the end, Professor Toynbee is not satisfied with his conception of liberty. He writes in one black moment of the "possibility-improbable though he ·personally felt this to be-that the appearance of freedom in human affairs might be dissipated one day by a progressive increase in the candlepower of Science's dry light " (IX, 878) . "" Ibid., IX 881. "" Bergson's infra-intellectual (" closed ") and supra-intellectual (" open ") morality are forced upon him by his distrust of conceptual knowledge and his admission of only the intuition of duration ('in actu '). (Cf. Collins, A Hist • ..• , Maritain, La Philos. B .•• , pp. !WS-274.) ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 287 Professor Toynbee's attempt to express philosophically the nature of society is not satisfactory in his own eyes, as we have seen. The " common field of action '' has not sufficiently explained the unity existing between the various persons constituting a society: the " problem. of the ' common will ' " remains.144 We propose to demonstrate how finality can provide a sound basis for the resolution of that problem. This attempt to lay bare the ontological natUTe of society 145 is a witness to the keenness of the mind which conceived A Study of History. The problem is aptly posed, the erroneous extremes excluded, and a solution proposed whereby society is constituted by relations between the members-relations arising from the activity of the members in a common field. Thus society is defined" a relation between individuals ... (which) consists in the coincidence of their common field of action." 146 We concede that the conjunction of individual activities is of the nature of society, and that by reason of this activity many social relations are constituted, but we maintain that if we look more deeply into social re'ality we shall find a basis for this CO'Tir junction of activities-making it more than the mere " coincidence of fields of action," as Professor Toynbee's definition would have it. This basis consists in another order of relation: the relation of coprdination-arising out of the pursuit of a common end. Let US· develop this point, recalling the finalistic tenor in the thought of A Study of History as regards to both the whole movement of the body social and its individual moments. In the previous chapter we showed that, in our author's mind, the health and growth of a society are only· ensured if its social action is ordered towards the perfecting, in a human sense, of the community: which is as much as saying that social activity is for the sake of the pursuit of genuine human perfection. Every individual who gives his allegiance to a civilized society, in some way recognizes that membership in this new community will be of more benefit to him than a life of isola1 .. Toynbee, A., op. cit., I, 448. HG Ibid., m, 217 ff. ""Ibid., m, 28o. JOHN THORNHILL tion, or the old treadmill of primitive life. In some way, be it ever so crude, 147 he knows that his spirit is expanded, that he is perfected, and it is for the sake of that perfection he joins the social ' elan.' · We may formulate a conclusion: the activity of each member of a civilized social body is ordered-with more or less adequate comprehension-to the formation of a body of social institutions which provide a means to the pursuit of unhampered human perfection. This embracing of a common end specifically distinguished, e. g., from the cramped and static aims of a primitive community of which these persons were previously members-is the principle which unites their social activity. It explains, to our mind, the phenomenon of the " common will " and the unity of societies " encountered as objects of thought." 148 It may also help to justify the coherence of a civilized body social, above all in the period of growth, so important to the general theory of "A Study of History." In the Aristotelian tradition, this integral, unhampered good of man which is the end of society, constitutes the genuine sense of that much abused term " common good.'' 149 1 .. Cf. "Mimll8is" as set out earlier in this article. In IV, liS note, we find a discussion of a cognate question, tke more or lea11 perfect comprekenaionby various men of the good, according to Plato. us Ibid., I, 443. ua This term will make for clarity of expression, rendering unnecessary a laboured paraphrasing. But, because it is apt to assume a different signification in each new theory of society, it may be well to define it carefully. Simply speaking, social activity is for the good of the individual per110011 who are members of the society. The "common good " is 60 called, not insofar as society constitutes some entity taking precedence over the " good " of each member, but because the individual member cannot attain to his integral kv:trw.n perfection except in-aofa't-aa ke becomea a member of a 11ociety. Toynbee quotes Plato as contending that the personal happiness of a member of BOciety is of no account, " for the individual human being exists, not for his own sake, but in order to promote the welfare of the commonwealth of which he is a member " (ill, 95}. We must leave to specialists the interpretation of the mind of Plato in the context-the text cited, Republic IV, 419A-4!UC, does not appear to exclude necessarily a more benign interpretation. Be that as it may, the special problem of the manner in which, in certain circumstances, the particular good of some member must be sacrificed " for the common good " of society helps to illuminate the true concept of the common good: rather than being set aside for the sake of the collectivity, the good of the person ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY ft89 The social " values " of the various levels of life of a civilized society, recognized by Toynbee and set out in detail in the first part of this article, now take their place in this conspectus. The order which must exist in cultural, political and economic activities is dictated by the common good of the members: the elements of the cultural, pertaiiring more essentially to man's proper perfection than technology and politics, must not be impeded by the disordinate emphasis of these latter. If that harmony is broken, if the institutional complex is so deformed that the effectual pursuit of the common end becomes more and more questionable, with it the :finalistic principle which is the basis of unity in the society begins to perish. In time, should the process of disharmony proceed far enough, members of the society will begin to withdraw their membership-just as they gave it: sensing the perfection they were receiving from social communion-and give it to the distinct social movement of a nascent society whose vitality, despite its rudimentary character, offers greater promise of carrying them towards the realization of the common good. In Arnold Toynbee's mind, this integral good of mankind is constituted in a certain manner by the Uncreated Good. We have noted that God is declared the End of civilized endeavour. In the condemnation of idolatry, we have implicit recognition of the foundation of morality in this same finality.. Idolatry is the directing of social forces towards the creature instead of the Creator, to the relative instead of the absolute. 150 In finalistic terms, we could define-it as the converting of intermediate ends-which should also be means towards the Supreme Endinto ends sought only for themselves. Such a perversion of_ the right order of things stifles the spirit of man, deprives him of the possibility of attaining the common good, and opens the way to social There are some loose ends in this doctrine of God as the is Tealised in a splendid way in that act of virtue which the sacrifice requires. A ultilitarian ethics, of course, is incapable of comprehending such a teaching, although it be the only soiution to a problem posed continually in practical reality. 1ao Ibid., IV, !!6!!. JOHN ·THORNHILL End of man-symptomatic of the necessity, at all costs, of a finalistic framework for the elaboration of a philosophy of history. God will be attained in the" communion of saints," that is, when sociai progress has proceeded so far that " mimesis "a great weakness in the functioning of society/ 51 is rendered unnecessary, since the whole of society has attained to the mystical intuition of the Life-giving Creator. This conception, of obvious Bergsonian inspiration, is gratuitous in its assumption of a universal evolutionary process, 152 and in its extension of this evolution to embrace the possibility of mankind's arriving ' en masse ' to heights of mysticism similar to that of the great Christian mystics. It is difficult to see how our author escapes his own criticism of the Marxist Utopia as an irrational relic of Judaic Messianism.1.58 Perhaps he would appeal to faith/ 54 but though we cannot doubt his sincerity, if he is not able to justify this faith, proving that it is more than a baseless credulity, is not this too to be suspected as another irrational relic of the Judeo-Christian tradition? 155 This unsatisfactory hypothesis of the " communion of saints '' becomes unnecessary if one recognizes that the common good is an analogous term which may be understood of the Uncreated Good-communion with whom, whether individually or socially/56 man finds his supreme perfection-and a created order which man must construct as a means to attaining this end. In considering this created order, Arnold Toynbee's mind is not clearly expressed, because he tends to conceive all created Ibid., IV, 199 ff. '"" The truth of this evolutionistic hypothesis is never questioned by Professor Toynbee. 158 Ibid., v, 178-179. 1 .. Cf., op. cit., IX, 880 note. 155 Is t'here not a certain inherent weakness in the position of both Bergson and Toynbee, proposing the Christian mystics as leaders who have far outstripped the rank and file of mankind, and at the same time offering an explanation of their mysticism which patently implies that the mystics' own explanation-prepared with great pains, in the case of the Spanish mystics, e. g.-was very naive in its "orthodoxy"? 158 This distinction could be introduced with benefit into Professor Toynbee's thought, without denying necessarily the intimate interdependence of the two. 151 ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY !l41 means as mere means, so that any valuing of them for their own sake is frowned upon. His conception would become clearer were he to introduce the distinction between mere means and intermediary ends.151 The latter are willed for the sake of attaining a higher end, and for the sake of their own inherent perfection. The created institutional complex which bears man on towards an ever more complete realization of human perfection is not a mere means; " relative " though it is and must always be considered-as our author justly points out-it deserves to be prized in itself for the wealth of human achievement it connotes. 158 This institutional complex-although it may be termed an ultimate end within its own created order-is finite in itself. Thus the very moment it ceases to open out onto the endless vista of unrealized human perfection, and is sought for itself alone, it ceases to possess the true character of COIIl!JlOngoodfor the spiritual nature of man knows no adequate end but an unlimited object. 159 167 The application of this distinction will help determine the rightful place of political institutions in the life of a body social. We have already drawn attention to a certain confusion in our author's mind on this point. 158 The sober Aquinas who wastes no superlatives, remarks: "Die autem qui instituit civitatem, fuit causa hominibus maximorum bonorum " (In I Lib. Politicorum, lect. 1, ed. Marietti n. 40). 169 It may be objected that this conception of the created common good---Qf its nature finite--and the positing of an infinite end as the only adequate end of man's spiritual aspirations is contradictory. (Cf. III, 226 fl'., " ••• like so many intuitions of the medieval scholastic genius, this answer to a practical question is no answer for practical purposes.") Abstracting from the Transcendental Common Good upon which social, as well as individual, life must open, we may observe that an end does not "move" in so far as it exists, but in so far as it is kn01JJ11, ("finis primus in intentione, ultimus in executions," is the scholastic tag). Now the institutional complex of a society may be comprehended and ronsidered in itselfand thus it is a finite entity, and (in a secondary manner) it is willed for its finite goodness. Or it may be considered under the formality of making possible further unlimited perfecting of the human person-and considered in this way, it is in a certa:in sense infinite, and connatural to man's spiritual nature (an ultimate end in its own. created order). Let us hope that the " oracle of scholasticism " has now explained itself more satisfactorily. It is to be regretted that Professor Toynbee's knowledge of scholastic thought would seem, like that of so many moderns, only second hand. In the prewar volumes, he cites the work, The Medieval Mind, Taylor, H. 0. (London, 1911). JOHN THORNHILL It is interesting to note the functioning of this principle in history. The former primitives who created the first rudimentary orderings of a civilized society on the Lower Nile, for example, were effectively pursuing the common good: for their responses were apt to carry them on towards an ever more rich human perfection. The Spartans, by way of contrast, with a social order and discipline which has captured the imagination of every age, had 'renounced the true common good-for their rigid institutional complex stultified the creative breath of the human spirit, and thus proved a '' reversion to animalism." To summarize our constructive criticism of Arnold Toynbee's social philosophy: this critique is· founded upon the common good, the finalistic principle of the unity of society; this common good is not the good of society which, as a higher organism, would take precedence over the hu:m,an " cells " which compose it/ 60 but it is the. good of the member of society, precisely in so far as human beings could " not exist at all--or at any rate humanly-without being in . . . social relation with one another." 161 This common good of man is an analogously realized term: in the Transcendental Order, it is the life-giving Creator towards whom every spiritual activity must be directed, while in the created order it is the institutional complex of a healthy society, which-as an intermediary enc.l-is of immense value in itself (end) , and has the function of opening the way for the human members of the society towards the Unlimited perfecting of human nature (intermediary). Men strive to attain the common good, exercising their liberty in the adapting Morality is that order which, according to the of means to He also knows E. Gilson's The Spirit of Medieval PkilOBOpky (Eng. translation London, 1986). In Part Vll, "Universal Churches," the Catholic position is upheld, somewhat unsatisfactorily, in several footnote comments by a "Catholic friend." 18 °Cf. ill, This passage corresponds substantially with our viewpoint. We would criticise, however, the refusal to admit not only organic unity, but also a certain " peracmolity " to society. Certainly society is a in a metaphorical sense only, but (in view of the unification of social activity by a common finalistic principle) to call this a " jictitiow personification " must be suspected as of the liberalistic social atomism which Professor Toynbee himself rejects. 1 " 1 Ibid., m, .. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 248 very nature of things, should exist in this exercise of liberty, and which alone can assure the attaining of the true end. The philosophy of history could well be defined as the consideration, in a philosophical light, of human changes. Since change is incomprehensible without reference to terms, finality in some form or other is indispensable in such a study. Similarly, the nature of change as it occurs in a certain subject and involves in some way the nature of that subject must capture the attention of the philosopher of history. On this account it may be well to conclude our article with the consideration of this problem, which troubled Toynbee--and Bergson before him-and which was of no small account in their embracing of evolutionism as an alternative to teleology. Both of these thinkers are at pains to emphasise the appearance of a new reality at each advance of the evolutionary process, epitomised in the expression " creation." Their thought can only be appreciated if it is borne in mind that they are reacting against a mechanistic conception of the process of thing, canonized in Rationalistic philosophy by the Leibnizian conception of physical and intellectual causes functioning like the running down of a piece of clockwork. They recognized that the process whereby reality is continually enriched-particularly in the sphere of human realizations-whereby something comes into being which before was not, could find no place in such a conception. But like so many Kantians after him; Bergson neglected to look beyond the unsatisfactory metaphysical system of Rationalism for the explanation of reality .162 The metaphysic of Leibniz, conceived as it was according to a mathematical model, did not fully appreciate what was probably the greatest metaphysical achievement of all times, Aristotle's recognition of the distinction within BEING between ACTUAL BEING and BEING IN POTENCY. Rooted in this metaphysical distinction of reality lies the 181 One is reminded of Toynbee's oft repeated criticism of the illusion that all progress proceeds in a straight line. 244 JOHN THORNHILL key to the true understanding of the great creations of civilized man .. In the unformed psyche of primitive man there existed a certain ordering towards self-perfection in social intercourse, of which the ' totums ' of primitive society were only a caricature. The tremendous effort which stirred these capacities out of a millenia! slumber, which actuated what was potentially traced in the configuration of the human psyche were acts of sublime creation. Is not this truth implicitly contained in a doctrine of social progress which must always be directed towards man's genuine perfection: namely one which follows the true configuration of the potentialities of his nature, the primacy of the spiritual over the material, the right ordering of economic, political and cultural values? Even abstracting from the metaphysical basis of such a conception, it certainly presents a more intelligible doctrine of human progress. 163 Essential, too, to this understanding of creativity is human liberty, the possibility 164 of accepting the elaborations of previous generations or of harnessing the tremendous energy locked in man's spiritual nature-its thirst for the absoluteand driving that spirit to undergo the pains and toils of selfrealization and enrichment, forging in itself those relative realizations which will carry it towards the absolute. This is no reading off of a predetermined blueprint; the possibilities of the human spirit are almost unlimited in their varied perfection. 165 168 The supernatural OTder, in the strict theological sense of that word, the bestowing on man's nature of realities which surpass the connatural OTdering of its creatt;d potentialities, raises a particular problem of " creativity " through what the scholastics call "obediential potency," which we have no intention of entering here. 164 In liberty there is found a particular realization of the distinction between potency and actuancy. 166 These possible lines of action conceived in the mind do not act the w'ill like so many forces of various "strengths " (the Leibnizian notion). They elicit the will in so far as they are considered as good. Every finite object may be considered as 'in a certain way good and desirable, or as in a certain way undesirable, arduous, etc. The secret of freedom lies in the mutual interaction of will and intellect brought by the agent to dwell finally and efficaciously on one of these finite means. The human agent can never renounce the willing of the Absolute, the Infinite, in virtue of which every choice of means is made. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 245 Let us resume the capital conclusions which have emerged in the course of the second part of our article. The philosophy of A. Study of History is not essentially dependent on the thought of Henri Bergson. Its author, primarily interested in social and ethical principles which may illuminate his investigation was not concerned with the metaphysics of the " new philosophy," but found its concepts a welcome medium of expression for a body of thought which the positivistic philosophy of his native milieu was incapable of formulating. It was unfortunate therefore that this philosophical counsellor denied him the very doctrine which would clarify the all important social and moral principles he employed so magnificently in his study-a sound philosophy of finality. The introduction of a finality conceived according to the more congenial Aristotelian tradition does little more than complete the grand lines of thought traced already in the intuitions of Arnold Toynbee. APPENDIX: THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY * The preceding article has made it clear that the philosophical principles employed in the interpretation of history must be social and ethical. Arnold Toynbee's neglect of the finalistic nature of ethical and social truths has led him to overlook their dependence upon the same philosophy of morality. He recognizes that political institutions must be vivified by ethical principles, but he tends to consider this an extrinsic guidance, not recognizing that, philosophically considered, morality is an essential property of social activity according to its very nature. 1 In the Aristotelian tradition, ethics * EDITOR's NOTE: The insights developed 'in the preceding article are further applied by the author as he sees moral science as the keystone in the understanding of history's meaning. 1 One will recall his division of the three planes of social activity: "cultural," " political," and " economic," and his opposing of cultural activities on the one hand, to political and economic on the other (V, 200). Unfortunately, it is only too true that the politics of our own society are often divorced from any sense of moral responsibility. Christopher Dawson has pointed out that in other ages a king or noble was "good" or "bad," whereas today the office of the politicians of our 246 JOHN THORNHILL and social philosophy constitute the one science of morals. The activity most proper to man is a purposeful activity. Moral philosophy is a normative science directive of human acts according to their proper finality. It may abstract from social considerations, and consider purposeful human acts according as they are personal; or it may consider a man's acts insofar as he is a member of society. The special relationship of the philosophy of history towards moral philosophy in the integral. Aristotelian sense, is confirmed by a re-examination of the object of the philosophy of history. Recent discussion concerning the nature of historical method has drawn attention to the eminently human character of the historical process.2 If it is not entirely the product of human liberty-conditioned, as it is, by accidents of nature-free human agency may be said to constitute its animating principle. Now, since that which is most formal in the free human aCt is its purposeful character, its ordering towards an end, it is evident any attempt to understand the historical process must invoke the science of human finality, moral philosophy. When modern man first became conscious of the time-process, his spontaneous conception of " Progress," as directional, betrays the essential part which the philosophy of human finality must play in an interpretation of the historical process. Moreover, the fSSential derivative of the historical process, human culture, is only understood in the light of social finality; our considerations of it have made it clear that the institutional complex of a culture must function, and must be judged, in its relationship to the true common good of man. The place of social finality in A Study of History, as has been pointed out, is made clear in its dominating ideal of the " Goal of Human Endeavours." If the essential dependence of a philosophical interpretation of the historical process upon the normative judgments of moral philosophy is to be admitted, does it follow that the philosophy of history must be identified with moral philosophy? Jacques Maritain would be inclined to answer in the affirmative, but does not determine. the manner of the identification. 3 In a recent study, bourgeois society is looked upon as a-moral: one· never speaks of a " bad " politician as one spoke of a "bad" king. (Cf. Dynamics of World History, editor Mulloy, London, 1957, p. 227). 2 Marc Bloch wrote, " ... I' objet de l'histoire est par nature l'homme. Disons mieux: les hommes . . . Derriere les traits sensibles du paysages, les outils et Ies machines, derriere Ies ecrits en apparence Ies plus glares et les institutions en apparence les plus detachees de ceux qui les ont etablies, ce sont les 'hommes que l'histoire veut saisir. Qui n'y parvient pas ne sera jamais, au mieux, qu'un manoeuvre de !'erudition." Cited on the rear cover of the Toynbee number of Diogene, 1956 (13). • On the Philosophy of History, pp. 37 ff. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 247 another author would identify the philosophy of history with moral philosophy in an unqualified sense: to the traditional branches, Monastic, Domestic, and Political Ethics, he would add Historical Ethics. 4 D. B. · Richardson claims that, just as there is a good of state beyond the personal good, so too there is a good of civilization and culture above and beyond the good of state. The practical science directive of human acts towards this good he calls Historical Ethics. 5 Now it is a well known Aristotelian principle that the practical sciences are distinguished according to the diverse ends towards which they direct human action. 6 Richardson is therefore right in recognizing that a new branch of moral science must be founded upon a specific distinction of ends; but when the original division of ends-providing the basis for Monastic, Domestic and Political Ethics-is most formally understood, it is difficult to see upon what grounds a new member may be mtroduced into moral philosophy. The fundamental distinction of moral sciences is clear. According to the original division, Monastic or Personal Ethics is directive of human acts towards the personal end of man: in so far as he is directly ordained to God, the Transcendent llitimate End. Social Ethics is directive of human acts, as it procures the end of a society, of which maD. is a member. Social Ethics is further divided on the basis of social ends. Domestic Ethics directs man's actions, insofar as they are ordered towards kuman generation, and its natural consequences, in the society of the family. Political Ethics directs man's actions, insofar as they are ordered towards integral kuman perfection, in civil society. 7 Most formaily, considered, the ends towards which the two members of social philosophy are ordered are " esse simpliciter " and " perfecte esse." The first ordering, radicated in man's biological nature, the second in his rational nature. The name Political Ethics stems from Aristotle's erroneous judgment of cultural reality, whereby he considered the city-state to be perfect organ of the common good. His principles, however, are clear.8 Aquinas, who makes explicit reference to the threefold division of moral philosophy,9 is more far-seeing than Aristotle. Commenting on Aristotle's assertion that Political Ethics constitutes the supreme practical science, by reason of its ordination to man's most perfect created end, he declares that it is more • Richardson, D. B., "The Philosophy of Instory and the Stability of Civilizations," in The Thomist, XX (1957), pp. 158-190. • Richardson, D. B., op. cit., p .. 169. • Cf. St. Thomas Aquinas, in I Ethicorum, lect. 1 (Ed. Marietti, nn. 12 fl'.). 7 Cf. St. Thomas Aquinas, In I Ethic., lect. 1 (Ed. Marietti, n. 2), lect. 2 (n. 25); In I Politicorum, lect. 1 (n. 11). 8 Cf. Ross, W. D., Aristotle (London, lith Ed., 1956), pp. 288-289. • St. Thomas Aquinas, In I Ethic., lect. 1 (Ed. Marietti, n. 6) . 248 JOHN THORNHILL perfect to seek the good of a city than to seek the good of a particular individual, and more god-like still to seek the good of a whole people embracing many cities.1o It must. be concluded, therefore, according to Aristotelian principles, that the cultural good towards which Professor Richardson would order his Historical Ethics is already included in the common good of the traditional Political Ethics. We may recall our considerations of the created common good in the preceeding article. It was shown that even in the created order, the true common good of society is in a certain respect infinite. It is this same common good which must rule the political institutions of a civilized society and its cultural life. Their consideration belongs, therefore, to the same part of moral science. In the modern age of what have been called more than once " Machiavellian " politics, it is easy for one to form the false idea of separate-even opposed!-political common goods of the various nations, divorced from the cultural communion in which they all share. Such a state of affairs, insofar as it exists, is an anti-social rather than a social reality, and can in no way provide a basis for the scientific division of moral philosophy. It seems clear, therefore, that the status of the philosophy of history in relation to the traditional moral philosophy must be determined in a manner different from that proposed by Professor Richardson. We will agree with him that the philosophy of history must be given a place within the corpus of moral philosophy, for it is essentially a normative discipline. We have made ·clear how the philosophical light employed in the understanding of history is, most properly, the normative light of moral philosophy. Since the light under which a philosophical discipline proceeds determines its object and nature, it was natural that the moral philosophy which animates the philosophy of history should impart to it the normative nature of a practical knowledge. Arnold Toynbee's famous simile of the climbers of the mountain, 11 the laws of Challenge-and-Response, bespeak the normative nature of his work. When one of his critics says that the object of his 10 Ibid., op. cit., In I Etkic., lect. 2 (Ed. Marietti, n. 80). In the Ross translation, Aristotle's text is rendered: " ... though it is worthwhile to attain the end merely for one man, it 'is finer and more godlike to attain it for a nation or for city-states (l811e• Ka.l r6Xeul,)" (1094b9). St. Thomas may 'have seen an allusion in this last phrase (translated: "melius vero et divinius genti et civitatibus " in the medieval version) to a higher social order than that of the Polis. Ross makes clear his ·interpretation of the mind of the Stagirite: " Though Aristotle stood at the end of the golden period of Greek city life and was in close touch with Philip and Alexander, it was 'in the city and not in the empire that he saw not only the highest form of political life up to date, but the highest of which it was capable," Aristotle, p. 287. 11 Toynbee, A., A Study of Hiatory, I, 192-194, 196, 281 etc. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE'S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 249 latter volumes is to champion the union of mankind in the love of God, our author concedes that this is a true evaluaiton of his work.12 Christopher Dawson's philosophy of history, to instance another recognized author, is likewise of a practical nature. 13 If one examines the normative principles which constitute the conclusions of the philosophy of history, it becomes clear that-by reason of their nature--this discipline must be accorded a status in moral philosophy which is quite distinct from that of the traditional body of ethics. In each case the philosopher proceeds under the light of the practical intellect, turning the realistic principles arrived at in speculative philosophy to account, as directive of human self-determination. 14 For that reason, each discipline must be allowed a place in the corpus of moral philosophy. One may express the difference in the nature of their normative conclusions by saying that those of ethics are essential norms, whereas those of the philosophy of history are circumstantial norms. Social ethics considers the essential ordination of man's actions to the common good of society; the philosophy of history considers the vicissitudes whick condition man's social strivings, and which must be taken into account in any realistic pursuit of the genuine common good of human society at a determined moment in its history. The root of this difference is to be found in the matter which the practical understanding considers in each case. Ethics considers- human acts according to their natures. The practical knowledge which it prerequires, 15 is ordained to providing the philosopher with an understanding of the whole amplitude of human action so that he may grasp its complete moral structure and formulate its unchanging normative principles. The philosophy of history, for its part, is not formally directed towards a consideration of human actions according to their unchanging, universal natures, but according as they have produced the contingent, precarious reality which is the historical process. Ethics considers the ordination which is imprinted :u Cf. Professor Geyl, Toynbee the Prophet, Journal of the History of Ideas, 1955 (16), and Toynbee's comment in the same periodical, 1955 (16), 18 When he names one of his words " Understanding Europe," e. g., it is a question of a practical understanding: on the first page we read: " Whatever may be the ultimate cause of this crisis, it is certain that it is a spiritual one, since it represents the failure of Civilized man to control the forces that he has created. It is due above all to the loss of common purpose in Western Culture and the lack of a common intelligence to. guide the new forces that are changing human life." He concludes Religion and Culture with the declaration, " The recovery of moral control and the return to spiritual order have now become the indispensable conditions of human survival." (p. 10 Cf. St. Thomas Aquinas, in I Ethic. lect. 8 (Ed. Marietti, n. 85). 15 Ibid., op. cit., in I Ethic., lect. 8 (Ed. Marietti, n. 88). 250 JOHN THORNHILL in the rational nature of man and his actions. The philosophy of history considers the existential order which human agency has imprinted in the historical evolution of mankind. Ethics judges reality as it should be, universally. The philosophy of history judges of reality as it tends to proceed in a typical moment of history. Moral philosophy judges with certitude. The philosophy of history, provides norms which are always hypothetical in character. 16 We could sum up our conclusions concerning the status ,of the philosophy of history as a part of moral science by stating that, whereas social ethics provides the major proposition of the prudential syllogism, the philosophy of history is ordered towards the formulation of its minor proposition: bringing universal moral norms into contact with an existential reality, all important in the realization of the concrete human act which is the end of all moral science. Christopher Dawson opens up the full dimensions of our thought when he writes, " every social way of life may be a way to God, so long as it recognizes its human limitations and does not' attempt to .force its particular historical values into the place of universal divine truths." 17 Let us conclude our considerations of the relation of the philosophy of history to moral philosophy, by noting a valuable observation of Jacques Maritain in his recent work. · If one is to admit the existence of certain necessary trends in the historical process, Maritain points out-viewing this necessity in the light of human finality, which is the soul of Aristotelian morals-that this necessity is more material than formal. It concerns the material circumstances in which human beings are called upon to live their lives-and which, certainly, tend to limit the cultural achievements possible to them. The 16 Toynbee, sharp in his criticism of Spengler's misuse of the inductive method, " attempting to mask the inadequacy of the evidential bwiis on which his tremendous induction has to stand, behind the (organic) simile ... " (IV, 11-U), is careful to make clear the hypothetical and provisional nature of his Study: " no synthesis or interpretation ·is ever final, because there .are always fresh facts to be found after the first collection has been provisionally arranged " (I, 49) . After the publication of his final volume, Professor Toynbee writes, " since it has only recently become possible to present this panoramic view of history, the first attempts (and mine among them) will certa:inly be revised, corrected, discarded, with the passing of time and the dedication of a greater number of .thinkers to this exciting intellectual undertaking" (Diogene, 18 (1956), p. 10. Many of the critics of A Study af History have overlooked Toynbee's underlining of the provisional nature of his study. The conclusions of a philosophy of history will always retain a hypothetical character by reason of their material dependence upon the findings of positive history. In this sense they may be called "empirical." 17 Dawson, C., Religion and Culture," p. ARNOLD J. TOYNBEE's PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY 251 manner iri. which they make use of these circumstances, the spiritual or rational meaniri.gwhich they will give to their lives, is still dependent upon their freedom, upon the finality with which they. choose to animate their lives. If, as it would seem, the world is necessarily moving towards an oecumenical technological order, it is still open to human freedom whether man is to be the drudge of the machines which he creates, or is to employ them as a means towards a greater freedom of spirit. 18 · This distiri.ction reaffirms the complementary functions of social ethics and the philosophy of history. It. makes clear the primacy of the former; and helps to dispel the air of pessimism so often associated with the latter. JoHN THORNHILL, St. Peter Ckanel SemiM:rg, Toongabbie, NtwJ South Walu 11 Maritain, J., On the Philosophy of Hillt0'1"1J," pp. !!5-26. S.M. ACTION AT A DISTANCE I T INTRODUCTION HE explicit problem in action at a distance is: " Can an agent body the substantial reality of which does not in any way touch a patient body, e. g., at its surface, affect the patient without using a third body called a medium? The problem must be understood in this way if the following discussion is to become intelligible. To the imagination this proposition seems impossible or, at least, seems to require some mysterious occurrence which once granted cannot be explained. Besides, every action experienced in our universe can 'be, or seems to be, adequately explained by means of surface contact, either directly between the agent and patient or between the agent through a mediating body and the patient. A legitimate question at this point would be: " Why does the problem even arise; how, indeed, can there be a problem? " Now, we might say that the problem appears because of some physical phenomena investigated and explained during the history of physical science, for example, that of light. Although we will have occasion to refer to some such scientific questions, the philosophical problem, however arises from the nature certain notions used to describe corporeal reality and in particular that corporeal activity which is called transient action, namely, such notions as " action," " distance," " contact," " medium." This paper rests upon the conviction that these notions, for the most part, have failed to describe corporeal reality adequately; more specifically, these notions fail adequately to explain transient action. To support this view we will examine the notions and assumptions latent in the various types of arguments used to prove the impossibility of action at a distance. Since Professor Van Laer has done a commendable job in surveying and grouping these arguments and, moreover, has added one of his 252 ACTION AT A DISTANCE own to the list, we shall first consider his work, one of the latest essays on the subject. 1 n PROBLEM It may be well to preface our consideration of Van Laer's arguments with the opinion that his formulation of the arguments against action at a distance is well stated; moreover, one may also argue that his criticisms of the proofs other than his own are valid, for none of them demonstrates the impossibility of action at a distance. Some beg the question; others, as Van Laer points out, deduce ambiguous conclusions. Therefore, it seems unnecessary to reproduce here an analysis that is already quite clear. For our concern is not, in the first place, with the logical validity of the arguments, but with a fundamental insight at the basis of all such arguments. This is the principle that presence is necessary for action. It may be possible, indeed, to reduce all arguments to the use of the same principle expressed in five different ways, corresponding to the five typical groups of arguments which Van Laer examines. The following table, to be read in conjunction with Van Laer shows, on the left, a summary formulation of the principles on which rest each of these" ways"; on the right is indicated how presence plays an essential role in all of them. 1. An agent acts only where it exists. 2. Distant bodies are not in contact. 8. Accidents are only where they exist. 4. The causal relationship im- 1. One body: As an agent it is present to itself. 2. Two bodies: One as an agent is not present to and is distant from another as a patient. 8. The accident of activity: As inhering in a body it is present to itself and its substance. 4. Two bodies: If they are in 1 P. Henry Van Laer, Philosophico-Scientific Problems, trans., Henry J. Koren (Pittsburgh, 1958), pp. 59-114, esp. pp. 79-94. fl54 JAMES TALLARICO plies an intimate union, and bodies are intimate only by local contact. 5. Action at a distance, taken as a propagation through empty space, would prevent direct action. local contact they must be and are present to one another. 5. The accident of activity: When it is between the agent and patient, it is present to neither. The first argument obviously means that action at a distance would require an agent to act where it is not; therefore, there cannot be action at a distance. Besides, there is another difficulty: as Fr. Bittle says," no being exists at a distance." 2 Since a being is present only where it exists, it is not possible for the agent to affect a possible patient which is at a distance. The argument requires, quite correctly, that presence be necessary for action. The second way disguises the same conception of bodily activity. Since distant bodies are not in contact, they are not present to each other. Lacking presence, influence cannot be attributed to the agent. Van Laer, in relating certain arguments of. John of St. Thomas and Hugon to this formula, says that they" emphasize that an agent which causes a new form in the recipient must be present with the recipient." 3 The third way restricts the essence of the first formulation to accidental being. In paraphrase, we might say that no accident exists at a distl:!-nce. In his criticism of this view, Van Laer says that, considered terminatively, the coming to be of the effect is in the recipient as an accident. Surely, however, action is not an absolute accident inhering in the agent as are, for example, quantity and quality. It is at most a relative accident of the agent, so that its essence consists in a respect to something else. Action is truly one entity considered from two points of view.4 The argument, therefore, is that where there is no existence there is no presence and consequently no action. The fourth way is quite simple; it hinges upon the supposi• C. Bittle, A ether to Cosmos (Milwaukee, 1948), p. 190. • Van Laer, p. 84. 'Ibid., p. 85. 255 ACTION AT A DISTANCE tion that presence is a prerequisite of intimacy. In fact the minor premise of the argument explicitly states that " a causal relationship between two bodies presupposes local presence." 5 The fifth way is also clear, though we must focus our attention on the words, " direct action," if we would not mistake the argument to be based on a false conception of action at a distance. Van Laer's comment should be noted here. "The question is precisely whether this distance prevents such action or not." 6 What is meant of course, is that once the activity as a propagation has left the agent, it is present neither to the agent nor to the patient. In such a case the agent would not act directly on the patient because the agent would not be present with the activity when it activates the patient. The activity would in this case be only the activity of a third body travelling to the supposed patient of the first body. This brief summary is not meant to prove but only to indi. cate that there is one principle, basic to all the arguments, which may well be the stumbling block: " How can distant bodies be present to each other." This indeed is the primary question. The question immediately following upon it is precisely the one Van Laer asks: " How is an agent directed to a subject? " His answer is: only by local contact can we understand the order of agent to patient and vice versa; for only by local contact can we understand the presence of agent to patient that makes possible the influence of the one upon the other, and only by local contact can we understand how a bodily recipient is determined to have such a relation of dependence to the agent that it is able to undergo the action of the agent. 7 Presence and determination are the two notions which fix the necessary prerequisites for action; and Van Laer rightly uses them to focus our attention on the heart of the problem of action at a distance. But Van Laer believes that only local contact provides these two prerequisites. It is to this question that we will now tum. • Ibid., p. 86. • Ibid., p. 88. • Ibid., pp. 89-90. JAMES TALLARICO By the very meaning of transient action, everyone would agree that the patient must have a relation of dependence to its agent. The problem is in the minor premise, which states, in effect, that this relation of dependence arises only by local contact. However the minor itself appears to rest upon two prior views: (a) the potencies of bodies give them a certain remote ability to exercise or undergo action, but action requires that bodies be immediately capable of exercising their potencies; (b) the possibility, kind and intensity of material action depend upon both the nature and qualities of agent and patient. These bodies must be capable of co-determining each other. Upon this the proof follows, and it may be well to quote it in its entirety and to have it immediately before us. " In order to obtain the necessary mutual conditioning mentioned in the foregoing paragraphs, [summarized in a and b above] bodies must have local contact. The proof is as follows. For the required mutual conditioning it is necessary at least that agent and recipient form one system. This system must belong to the order in which the two bodies are agent and recipient; hence they must form one system in the material order, one corporeal system, one quantitative whole. But in the order of extension agent and recipient cannot form one quantitative whole unless they are locally related to one another. Now such a local relation can be obtained only by means of local contact, whether this contact be immediate or mediate, i.e. through intermediary matter which is in immediate contact with both agent and recipient. If such contact does not exist, two bodies may have an existence of their own, but with respect to one another they do not exist and therefore cannot influence one another. Hence the conclusion follows that for the interaction of bodies material contact is a necessary condition." 8 The goal of the argument is to show that local contact is required for bodies to exist with respect to one another, because bodies that exist in this way can influence each other. With this as a background, the statements in the argument in support of this are as follows: I. A quantitative whole occurs only by local relation. Local relation occurs only by local contact. • Ibid., pp. 90-91. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 257 8. Bodies exist with respect to one another only by local contact. 4. Finally, for the interaction of bodies material contact is necessary. The argument, then, is as follows: Definition: A quantitative whole is a whole composed of bodies which exist with respect to one another. Major: A quantitative whole occurs only by local relation. But local relation occurs only by local contact. Minor: Conclusion: A quantitative whole occurs only by local contact. Two points are noteworthy: (a) that local relation makes bodies exist with respect to one another and (b) that the crucial point in this argument, which is the proof of the minor, is that local relation occurs only by local contact. Keeping these points in mind, here is the "thought-experiment" which (a) supports the argument that bodily interaction requires local contact and (b) helps to determine the role of the medium between distant bodies. 9 A body, A, exists in a vacuum. Now if a body, B, is introduced there are two possibilities. If we maintain that A's activity was present in the vacuum prior to B's entrance, we maintain that an accident can exist without a substantial support. On the other hand, if we maintain that the activity was present only at the time of B's arrival and that only then did A by its activity influence B, then we have an insoluble difficulty. For we seem to have no way to explain how A, a non-knowing being, would know either of B's arrival or of its capacity to be influenced by A. Van Laer implies that there is no mutual conditioning or co-determination. In other terms, there is by definition no communication between A and B in the first place; therefore, there can be no further communication between them. Certainly if there is no communication, to maintain that A influenced B would be to maintain that there is no reason why the action occurred. If A were travelling through the vacuum and B were in its path, the collision would have a reason for its occ.urrence. However, if the bodies are completely isolated from each other by the vacuum and neither is in locomotion, there is no possibility that an action could • Ibid., pp. 258 JAJdES TALLAErrCO occur even if the potencies of both beings were perfectly suited to each other. H the vacuum completely isolates bodies, it is to speak of determination or action or the direcequally tion of action from A to B or B to A between the bodies. Similarly were we to admit a medium which locates bodies, them position relative to one another, yet which does not play an active role in the activity among bodies by determining the bodies with respect to one another, then our situation has not changed at all. This type of a medium would isolate bodies just as effectively as a vacuum. Bodies would have a position relative to one another but would not be present to one another; they would not exist with respect to one another. There is, apparently, no way to avoid this conclusion. The bodies are related locally, yet they do not exist with respect to one another; they are not present to one another as they were in the " quantitative whole " of the main argument. But does this not suggest that local relation and local contact in the main argument are really synonymous phrases? H so, the argument begs the point at issue, since it is maintained that only by a local relation do bodies exist with respect to one another. We are told, however, that this whole proof" has value only for those who accept the contact theory as the explanation of the localization of bodies." 10 . Is this true? In this theory of localization the medium relates bodies and places them in mutual contact. This is not enough, because bodies in an inert medium are in contact and yet do not exist with respect to one another. H neither local relation nor local contact of themselves allows bodies to exist with respect to one another, the medium must do so. But the medium is that which gives local relation and contact to bodies. In other words the question is: "How can bodies exist with respect to one another? The hope is that material, i. e., local, contact will be required but not assumed. There are three ways that this can be accomplished and they are implied in Van Laer's proofs. 1. By local contact: 10 Ibid., p. 9S. This begs the question. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 259 2. By local relation: This is not sufficientwhen we are concerned S. By the medium: with an inert medium. This gives local contact to bodies and therefore also begs the question. If it is replied that this is why the proofs have value only for those who accept the contact theory of localization, this still does not explain how bodies exist with respect to one another. Rather it is the medium as operational that explains this. The medium as operational, active or passive, makes one body present to another. It does this by" passing on" the determinations of events from one body to another. This is the true contact that is heing sought. Local contact, as in the theory of localization, has no part in this operational scheme, except that it allows for the distance between bodies ap.d the direction of activity, since this contact is within a third body-the medium. In other words, the medium as operational relates or carries the determinations of one body to another body. By this means the bodies are present to one another, exist with respect to one another and can influence each other. In the proof quoted, the notion, " to relate determinations," was the reason why local relation made a quantitative whole. The parts of the whole exist with respect to each other. The intention to make relation that by which bodies exist to one another is present; but there is too much emphasis upon locality, contact and medium to make the notion of relation sufficient for the mutual existence of bodies. Understood in this way, local contact, in order to fulfill the role prescribed by the argument, cannot refer to contiguity but rather to the determinate effect of one body upon another. Bodies affect one another prior to action. This effect is not an efficient effect; rather it is what we shall call later a formal effect. However it is just this type of effect which gives relations among bodies their significance. To try to understand action among bodies by means of surface contact robs bodily relations of their reality and their ontological status. It cannot be maintained at this point that relation is the fundamental notion in Van Laer's argument for the reason that a quantitative whole is a whole because the parts are related 260 JAMES TALLARICO and contiguous. We must either identify relation with contiguity or we must say that relation between bodies occurs only by means of contiguity. In this case both alternatives must be proven, especially in the light of traditional philosophy. The proof as a whole and the notion of a non-inert medium are based on conceptualizations which appear to be obscurely implicit in the notion of relation, i. e., presence and determination. It is the local relation of bodies that binds them together and brings about an interacting community. Instead of returning these notions to their proper place, the medium must support them not by but at the surface of contact. Contact, at the point of contact, must bring about presence and determination, the primary properties of relation. This aspect is so important that those arguments which conclude to the need for contact because action can only occur at the moment of contact were criticized by Van Laer for begging the point at issue.11 Those arguments assume the conclusion that surface contact generates presence instead of introducing a third factor, such as relation, to connect them. This is the reason why a theory of "place " is not the most advantageous point at which to begin an argument against action at a distance. For what value would a theory of place have if it did not relate the places of bodies to each other, not only according to position and direction but primarily according to the existent body in each place? The theory which accounts for relating the existents to each other would be a different theory, just as it is in Van Laer's account. To transmit determinations and to locate bodies in place are two separate notions not necessarily related to each other. Therefore the formula, " local relation," must not be understood as relating the localities but rather as relating the existent bodies in their localities. It should not be understood as admitting other relations between the existents, but as allowing that general, unspecified, fundamental relation of existence by means of which relations of potencies, similarities and other specific relations are possible. It is not itself a relation, but 11 Ibid., e. g., pp. S!l; 86. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 261 clearly if bodies do not exist with respect to one another, they cannot be related by certain similarities. Below are four syllogisms stated as simply as possible, which carry the main points of the analysis. (1) A quantitative whole is made up of bodies which have a certain respect to one another. This certain respect is local relation. A quantitative whole is made up of bodies which have local relation. (2) A respect to another is a relation. Bodies only have a respect to one another if they have local contact. Bodies are related only if they have local contact. (3) For bodies, to be related is to exist with respect to one another. Bodies can only be related by local contact. Bodies exist with respect to one another only by local contact. (4) Bodies which exist with respect to one another can influence one another. Bodies exist with respect to one another only by local contact. Only by local contact can bodies influence one another. If, thus, relation is explicitly recognized as the expression of presence, the questions that immediately follow are: " Why is relation an expression of presence? " and " What does relation require in order to exist? " III RELATION The conclusion implicit in the view that action at a distance is impossible is that bodies are isolated. (At present it is of no concern whether bodies are in fact isolated. This we will leave until later. Our concern at present is only with the implicit suppositions in the argument.) The fact of action requires the explicit conclusion that beings in action are present to one another. Most authors say that local contact gives presence. JAMES TALLARICO One of them gives the answer, relation, but he emphasizes something else to the point of misinterpreting the basis for his proof. Our task then is to understand relation, to see how it allows presence and determination and to notice what conditions it requires. Then we will understand the truth which Van Laer touches upon but does not fully honor. Our procedure will follow three stages. First, we will give a commonly accepted definition and then some introductory remarks concerning relation. Next we will discuss two general characteristics of relation, presence and determination. The first of these is comprised of three primary properties: (a) inherence, (b) modality of the foundation and (c) being to another. The second is indicated by the property of specification. The third and last stage will present the conditions for the existence of relation followed by a few possible difficulties brought about only by a possible misunderstanding. As John of St. Thomas says, if we understand relation in its most general sense, no one doubts that relation is real. What has been doubted is the ontological status of the relation which the logician calls predicamental, which is defined as " a real form whose whole to be is to something else." 12 The reason for this doubt of course is that an accident must have a being of its own, not in the sense that it can or does exist apart from a substance, but in the sense that its being refers only to itself and to itself as existing in a substance. On the contrary, the entity (relation) referred to above seems to imply some thing which exists and yet primarily exists to or with respect to another. Its only reference is to another. It is a rather strange being. Why not, say the objectors, be satisfied with the relation as expressed with reference to beings because of the foundation for the relation which exists in the beings? This relation is called transcendental. It is not anything distinct from things considered absolutely in themselves and for this reason is called an absolute entity. It does not make up a separate category 10 The! Material Logic uf John of St. Thomas, trans., Simon, Glanville and Hollenhorst (Chicago, 1955), p. 816, v., p. 609; n. 12. ACTION AT A DISTANCE but enters into all categories. Because of this transcendence it has the property of being embodied in the thing absolutely rather than being distinct from it. 18 It seems superfluous to demand any other type of relation. In answer to the objection that we have no experience of these relations, John of St. Thomas replies that no greater or different kind of knowledge is required for relation than for the other accidental forms. In the latter just as in the former, we experience effects but not their distinction from substance; and from the effects we can conclude to their distinction from substance. In the physical world we experience things subject to order, to resemblance, to dependence. "In these instances, regarding,_which is the effect upon consideration, is not combined with any absolute essence: the whole being of resemblance, fatherhood, order, etc., consists in a respect." 14 They cannot be understood in terms of sonie absolute entity. 15 It is true that in most cases a predicamental relation such as the relation of the effect to the cause, is founded on a transcendental relation; but if the term of the relation is removed and destroyed, " the transcendental relatedness remains, not the predicamental one." 16 This would be true only if they were distinguished. ·This also indicates the reality of predicamental relation. It .cannot be a mere construction of our intellect. When the term of a relation stands before us, no mental trick will make the intellect misunderstand or ignore the meaning of its existence. There are new real possibilities because of the existence of a term for relation. A stone travelling through the air can hit something besides the air. This can takes on an active meaning if something is there, near or in its path. For by existing, the relation of effect to cause is meaningful just as it is meaningful when the term is destroyed to call the other a cause. A real predicamental relation requires a really existing term; 17 but once related, for example by actual causality, the removal of either cause or effect will not remove the designation " cause " or" effect" for the term which remains. 18 Ibid., p. 885. " Ibid., p. 18 1" 10 Ibid., p. 808. Ibid.,· p. 881. 17 18 Ibid., p. 865. Ibid., pp. 888-84; JAMES TALLARICO The prime reason for the endurance of relation, or rather the relatedness left behind by relation, is its character of being a real form which exists in its subject as an inhering accident. 19 The reality of relation is derived from its foundation which exists in the subject. 20 In fact " it is the function of the foundation to provide relation with existence by inherence. (This existence by inherence is what relation has in common with the absolute accident.)" 21 It is no surprise then that the related is denominated by " what inheres in." 22 The transcendental relation chiefly refers to the absolute subject and only secondarily to others. It grounds a relation more than it gives rise to one, and the reason is that it " is not a form that accrues to a subject or absolute thing; it is embodied in its absolute subject." 23 Nevertheless it connotes something extrinsic to itself with which it is concerned. The transcendental relation first refers to the foundation then to the relation. But since the point of view of predicamental relation is first to something, and it exists only as it proceeds from a foundation, 24 the foundation can be called the root which is present in a subject. Upon the positing of a term, a relation proceeds from its foundation as from a root wherein it was precontained. 25 In this way a subject receives a new determination when a relation to this and that term is posited. 26 Action certainly "marks" a power so that after the action and even after the destruction of one of the terms, there is still an " effect " in the agent or the effect in the patient-in the agent because the being no longer regards the effect in the patient as something it could produce, 27 and of course in the patient since the action occurred there. Not all relations occur by action however. There is an" effect" in the subject due to the presence of the inhering form of the relation; but upon destruction of the term this formal effect ceases. 28 This state of affairs is only intelligible if relation bears some Ibid., pp. 808; 886. •• Ibid., pp. 819; 818. "' Ibid., p. 844. •• Ibid., p. 810. •• Ibid., p. 815. 19 •• Ibid., p. 854. •• Ibid., p. 860. •• Ibid., pp. 840; 841; 884. •• Ibid., pp. 888-84. •• Ibid., pp. 886-87. 9l65 ACTION AT A DISTANCE significance for the things related. It can have it because the order of the relations parallels the order of the related things. 29 As relation exists in a subject so also is it concerned with other subjects. By definition its very being is in reference to another. 30 Relation, indeed, receives its name because of the referring to another. " Relation derives its denomination not only from what inheresi. e., from its own entity as an inhering thing-but also from what is external tv its subject, i. e., from its term and from its tendency toward it. This does not rule out its inherence but, on the contrary, presupposes it." 31 " Relation alone is both being and ' to being ' . . . The reality of relation originates in one side, viz., in the foundation, and the positive essence expressed by the preposition ' to ' originates in the other side. This positive essence derives from the term, and the term does not bring forth the property of being but that of being relative to being." 82 As long as a foundation exists for a relation, this foundation will bear a relation to whatever corresponds as a term to it. 83 A foundation is precisely that aspect of a thing which has the property of relating one thing to another, and there is a necessary correspondence between it and the formal term of a relation.84 Take for example the relation of a possible agent to a possible patient of this agent. The foundation just prior to action concerns this effect which is to be produced by this power in this agent. 35 "By proportion and power, the foundation contains the term in itself, for a foundation does not refer to such and such a term unless it is itself such and such a foundation, and conversely." 36 It is for these reasons that we can say that" this individual relation regards this individual term determinately." 37 Further, since every relation depends upon its formal term, not as upon a cause but as an opposition which is co-related to it, the relatives if they are related in reality •• Ibid., p. 854. 80 Ibid., pp. SIS; 355. 81 Ibid., pp. •• Ibid., p. 819. 88 Ibid., p. 811. •• Ibid., p. 824. •• Ibid., p. 883. •• Ibid., pp. 855-56. 37 Ibid., p. 35!1. 266 JAMES TALLARICO must be interconnected, precisely insofar as they are related, for" one cannot be without the other." 38 Among the relations considered by logic, perhaps mutual relations are the best example of this because the relations are of the same order, are present in both extremes and thereby connect the extremes with each other; for example, father and son are mutually related. 89 Scattered throughout the last section were quotations and references to quotations which indicated the specifying and determinative character of the term to which relation refers. This was unavoidable considering how intimately joined are these two notions and aspects of relation. We mentioned that the foundation is of this effect to .be produced, that the foundation is of such and such a term, that there is a necessary correspondence between the foundation and formal term /and that relation regards determinately. Now, speaking from the viewpoint of the term, we can say that it is not something entirely absolute and concerned only with itself. As a term it is of something, and of something distinct from itself. As such it involves relativeness 40 and relative opposition, i. e., co-relation. In the specification of relation, it is true that the relation does not derive its specification from its term; however it is "specified (in relation) to it." The foundation specifies in the capacity of a principle and cause but it does this " in relation to the term in which specification is completed and terminated." 41 The term, one might say, makes its influence felt in an indirect i.e., in such a way that those things which are expressed in relation to others are distinguished according to the distinction of the terms to which they refer.42 It should be recognized, however, that in relative opposition such.as this, the work of neither foundation nor term is sufficient nor is one exclusive apart from the other. " One extreme does not take away the other, but rather posits it or presupposes it, so that the specification of the one may be relative to the other," 48 which indicates the close inter-connection of the rela•• Ibid., pp. 861-6!!. •• Ibid., p. 8!!8. •• Ibid., p. 844. " Ibid., p. 868. •• Ibid., pp. 854-65. •• Ibid., p. 857. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 267 tives. The term then does prepare the way for this activity rather than that activity, because it is the term of this thing with this foundation rather than another thing and foundation. The term specifies by completing and fulfilling {he relation which is the very meaning of the foundation. Van Laer calls this mutual conditioning and mutual determination. There is only a difference in terminology. These last few considerations are intended to show how relation can give presence and determination. By inhering, by bringing about a new modality of the subject, by being to another, by mutual implication of foundation and te:m:t and by the mutual specification of foundation and term, relation, at the very least, appears to bear the credentials of a communicating form/ 4 a form that would present beings to each other so that they would exist with respect to one another. Of these there is perhaps one characteristic which would pose the greatest difficulty. If something inheres and by inhering brings about a new modality of the subject, there should be a change in the subject. There are texts of St. Thomas which say that a being does not change when it is related, and yet there must be a change " cum nihil de novo adveniat alicui absque mutatione eius cui advenit." 45 This is important because the doctrine of presence and determination depends precisely upon ·a new formal effect occurring in the thing related. It is this effect which makes one being communicate with another. To understand " change " in this context we must answer two questions: (a) How is formal effect possible? and (b) .What does it do for bodies and for interaction in general? The first thing we must remember is that relation is not, strictly speaking, a thing; it is a mode of a thing. Therefore the change that comes about in relation is not entitative, nor a fortiori some type of physical change. St. Thomas brings this out quite well. Since relation is usually considered in two ways, as foundation and as to another, when the relation as u Ibid., p. 887. •• St. Thomas, In Pkysicorum, 5, 8, 0peTa Omm.ia,Vives edition, 84 vols. (Paris, 1884), Vol. !t2, p. 504. 268 JAMES TALLARICO foundation changes then there is change, physical entitative change. Indeed the change is so real that there is a new relation. A relation in causing a change removes itself and brings a new relation to bear. This is strange only if we do not remember that the relation-that whatever changes here-is not predicamental relation but is transcendental relation. Transcendental relation is primarily the absolute entity itself. Therefore in this situation relation does not cause a change; it is the change wrought upon the subject which changes relations. St. Thomas gives us an example of the genesis of a predicamental relation. If something through its changing becomes equal to me while I remain the same in quantity, that equality which now exists between us existed in me in some way as in a foundation from which it now has real being. The foundation which could express equality with all things equal to myself, at this moment " determinatur ad istum." There is determination. Yet immediately following this he says: " et ideo nihil advenit mihi de novo per hoc quod; incipio esse alteri aequalis per eius mutationem." 46 It seems obvious that by " mutatio " Thomas means physical change. Even so something real occurs in me without a physical change. St. Thomas seems to be saying that for predicamental relation something real occurs in the subject without a " mutatio." In other words we cannot hold that relation is an intrinsic form, a predicamental accident, and that relation brings about physical change, because in bringing about physical change the relation which is concomitant with it no longer exists. We have a new relation and this process would go on ad infinitum as the change which occurs by reason of the relation becomes now a basis for a new relation while destroying the old. Neither can we hold that relation is extrinsic and still demand that it bring about a physical change, because if it is something extrinsic it cannot bring about an intrinsic change unless we are to identify relation with action. Nor also can we make relation something extrinsic to a body without making it a thing. Accordingly if relation is admitted, ' 8 Ibid., p. 504. ACTION AT A DISTANCE it must be an intrinsic' form which brings about a formal effect without a physical change. The greater part of the difficulty would vanish if we realize that relation is not prior to a new way of existing but posterior to it. Relation is b'ased upon the way a being exists; and, at least among bodies, the way a being exists depends upon how it can exist with respect to another, when the other exists. " Regarding" is the term used to indicate this existence to another. Perhaps we can tie these threads together and at the same time indicate the necessary conditions for relation. John of St. Thomas poses this objection: " If relation is an intrinsic form, it should cause an intrinsic change." 47 In his reply he says that relation comes to its subject without any mutation whose direct and immediate term would be the relation itself; but it certainly requires a mutation of which it is the mediate and indirect term. Just as the power of laughter comes into existence through the action which produces man, so the production of a white thing involves the production of resemblance with any other existent white thing. If another white thing should not exist, then as result of the production of the white thing, resemblance remains as it were in a state of virtuality from which it will be brought into existence as soon as its term is posited. 48 Therefore while bodies do not in their substantiality exist at a distance from themselves, they do exist with respect to one another at a distance by regarding each other in a determinate respect. This regarding or " reference " or " relativity " frees bodies from isolation and thereby makes a unity of many-a whole. Let us say once again that to describe a quantitative whole, composed of many individuals which retain their individuality, in terms of surface contact is to beg the question at issue. Bodies can compose a quantitative whole because bodies are quantified; they can be a quantitative whole because they are related. Bodies can become a whole while remaining in actuality many, simply by being related, because in relation •• John of St. Thomas, p. :no. This is a paraphrase of the first objection. •• Ibid., p. 881. 270 JAMES TALLARICO they stand in each other's presence by the inherence of the form of the other. It should be clear to us by now that the foundations for real relations are brought into existence by the very fact of the production of a being and at the same moment of its production. Even if the generator of the being no longer exists, it has left its power in the being in the form of a "foundation sufficient for the emergence of a relation." 49 The term does not cause the formal effect of relation in the subject. 50 The foundation does this. The term, however, is the necessary condition for the actual existence of the relation which brings about the formal effecL51 Fundamentally the being is related. Only the existence of the term is lacking. A new relation is brought about by the mere positing of its term at any distance. " Distance is neither an advantage nor an obstacle," precisely because the term does not cause a relation in the other extreme, rather the term plays the part of a condition. 5 2 Note that" term" here does not mean the formal term but the material term. It is the physical being considered as able to be a formal term, because the being actually exists. Only a subject, foundation and term are required for relation. The existence of a being gives the first two and the existence of another body will give the other if it is the term of this foundation; and it is the term of this foundation, not by something that must occur prior to the related thing, but only by what is concomitant with the being's existence. It is a term simply by what it is, not by some event that must occur to it after it exists or by something outside it as an etherbody. Relation is the expression of the way things exist and therefore the way they can exist to each other once the term exists. Relation depends upon existence, not upon surface contact. Notice that to the charge that" co-existence and distance determine an extrinsic denomination,'' John of St. Thomas replies: " I see no reason why the character of real relations should be denied to them." 58 Notice also that there could not •• Ibid. •• Ibid., pp. 887; 811. •• Ibid. •• Ibid., pp. 810-11. •• Ibid., p. 881. This is a paraphrase of his reply to an objection on p. SiS. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 271 be any intrinsic effects to beings in an inactive medium even though the medium makes distance possible. 54 This is of course because they are not related in Van Laer's inactive medium, i. e., related with the true effects of relation. In the view here taken beings can be intrinsically affected without reference to an active or an inactive medium. It may bear repeating that the fundamental point lies right here and that the real question we must face at this point is: ·Does relation depend upon the fact of existence or does it depend upon a certain kind of medium or event, such as surface contact? Relation considered in itself contains no reference to surface contact or to an intervening medium. Relation viewed as indicating something in the real world, refers only to the way beings exist and therefore how they exist with respect to one another. In truth this question should be asked of those who maintain that surface contact relates bodies: " What is your view of relation, if it is true that the surfaces of bodies must touch in order for the bodies to be related? " Is this touching an event, an action? Is then an action required prior to transient action in order that action may occur? Is it an event like the formal effect of a relation? Perhaps they would not argue to that conclusion. But if not, then why does contact occur? Does it occur for no reason or does it occur because there is a reason, a foundation in the being because of the way it exists potentially? If it is this, then the event itself is foreshadowed, as it were, in the being even when they are apart. If it is foreshadowed in the beings because of what they are and when they are apart, then they could exist in a vacuum, in isolation, and still foreshadow what will take place when they cease to exist in isolation. How else could we maintain that there are real relations among bodies? Moreover, if real relation do not occur by is there a motion towards the generation of relation? If so, however, the end of the motion must be present to the moved, and this is as much as to admit that a real relation is a prerequisite to the motion whereby a relation can come into •• Van Laer, p. JAMES TALLARICO being. Besides, a movement in itself terminates in a new entity, a new mode which is the essential term of the mutation. To reach the place where the places touch so that there is surface contact is an achieved term. Relation, however, is something produced through something else. It is a being obtained through a foundation and a term. It terminates an emanation, not a distinct production. as accident certainly can be the term of a mutation such as place or position, 55 but it is a modal accident. It is the accident which exhibits the mode of another accident such as place or position, to another being. It can do this because it does not refer to itself but to another. Place or position can refer to other places and positions only because the modal accident, relation, relates this place to that place and this position to that position. Of all the accidents, relation has the lowest being. This is why it can "rest" upon another accident. This also is why its effect is a formal not an efficient effect as are the other accidents. It inheres in the substance by means of a foundation and the foundation itself is an accident of the substance. It is a mode of an absolute accident and as such it completes an accident. Relation is a modal being as well as a relative being. Therefore if it is a modality of the foundation, and the foundation is the physical being itself in one of its accidental aspects, then relation must express the way in which one being exists with respect to another. IV AcTION AND CoNTACT We have dwelt upon the subject of relation and its characteristics in the opinion that relation brings about the community that transitive action at a distance requires, for bodies are not isolated from each other if they are related. If this is true, the charge that action at a distance without the use of a medium implies that bodies " suddenly and, as it were, out of nothing " reveal their presence to one another/ 6 is no longer valid. How55 John of St. Thomas, pp. 56 Van Laer, p. 79. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 278 ever, two objections to the position taken here may present themselves: " How is it that the action of the agent passes over into the patient? " 57 and " Why does action actually occur?" These questions imply one another as well as certain assumptions which must be brought out. The discussion will not try to isolate them, but a view of the whole problem of action at a distance should clear them up. Moreover, for the moment we will touch only upon action and contact. Later when it is time to discuss distance, direction, power and medium, further light will be thrown upon all of these " separate " problems. Now, Van Laer correctly observes that action is a relative accident. From the point of view of the agent it is action: from the point of view of the patient it is passion. Yet the action is in the patient, since it is the patient that is affected and brought from potency to act. Granting these characteristics of action, where is there a necessary reference to surface contact? There is none. In the light of what we have seen concerning relation, the presence and determination required to make action conceivable are already given. The question is now, " Why does action actually occur? " There is only one possible answer to this question. The action actually occurs, not only because the potencies of agent and patient are mutually compatible, but because the compatibility has reached that state of existence that allows the action to occur: action has an ignition point, as it were, a kindling temperature. This is an obvious everyday observation. The lighted match will make it possible that a piece of paper will bum only if the dispositions within the paper are such that the paper can burn. These dispositions are dependent upon the nature of the body. (Experimental science studies these dispositions mathematically and measures them by the means at its disposal and in many cases defines the bodies in terms of dispositions relative to various kinds of activity.) Conversely, the reason why a lighted match would not make it possible for a log to burn (grant that in this ex•• Ibid., p. 75, v., pp. 66; 88. JAMES TALLARICO ample it does not) is because its active power is not great enough. In truth, by itself it is not disposed to this action. What do we do? We light paper, which lights slivers of wood and the total power available allows the log to burn. Therefore it is not that the power of the lighted match is dispersed or lost while being applied only to the log and not first of all to paper and kindling wood. This may be partly true but it is not the essential reason why the log fails to catch fire. Rather the power of the match is not sufficient. Here is one answer to the objection that those who maintain action at a distance without a medium or with a medium which does not participate in the action cannot explairi the loss of energy or loss of intensity, e.g:, of radio-active propagation when the distance increases. 68 If we want to indicate the distance as so many inches, feet or miles then certainly, if we measure the amount of- energy present at various points of inches, feet or miles, we will find various degrees of the power of the agent. But we are not necessarily measuring the " loss " of energy. We can only say that we are measuring a loss if we take a standard e. g., the amount measured as close to the surface as our physical means allow. But what right have we to take another amount of what appears as the same activity and say that the difference is a loss? We can say this only if we assume that there has been a loss. We can only validly conclude from this experiment (a) that there is a difference, and (b) that if a body were at that distance it would be able to be affected by so much power of the agent. Therefore if the power present at a further distance is less than that present at a nearer distance, the only conclusion that necessarily follows is that the power of the agent at this moment is not great enough to affect the farther object as strongly as the nearer object. 59 •• Ibid., p. 100. •• Furthermore how can a conception of distance as implied in the above objection of itself cause a change in intensity or a loss of energy? It cannot unless it is made "into a thing. Also, if the medium does not absorb the part of the intensity called "loss;, (Van Laer, p. 102) there is no ·reason which accounts for this "loss." However the reason for the loss or apparent i. e., the difference in intensity, ACTION A'.lr A DISTANCE Therefore the distance indicates what is the effect that can be made upon an object, and the effect upon the object is dependent upon the power of the agent. Distance then has a direct relation to the agent as agent, i. e., as acting or exerting its power. Therefore it is not true that " nothing can change in the agent by the mere increase or decrease of the distance." 60 Action and distance are related. True, there is no physical change in the agent or patient but the agent as agent has a new status. Its status is that the same power will not do as much as before if the object is now farther away. Conversely, that patient is less disposed to the same power of the agent than it was before. Power and distance are related in some of their notional aspects just as power and action are related. Further whether or not w:_e admit that relation reveals the presence of one body to another, still the relation between the bodies is different. All four notions are related. Make the ·distance smaller and the relation has changed with the result that the same degree of power in the agent will effect a larger or perhaps a different action. Strip a body of practically all its power and regardless of how close geometrically we bring another body, the latter will not be affected. Since no action can occur, the relation of cause to effect cannot occur. Action, as the act of a potency, cannot be divorced from any of these conditions. Action, as an activity, obviously is not passed from hand to hand as a third thing. It is an occurrence dependent upon conditions present in the individual bodies concerned. These conditions present themselves just as forcibly to those who require surface contact for bodily action whether the surface contact is between agent and patient or between agent and medium then medium and patient. If we admit transient action as distinct from immanent action, to place bodies extremely close together does not make' transient action more intelligible. If the agent, patient and medium each remain substantially disis what must be discovered. The search for this reason is at the same time the search for the understanding of action and why it occurs. •• Van Laer, p. 100. JAMES TALLARICO tinct from each other, then transient action continues to retain its essential characteristic, namely, the agent becomes the cause of the act of a potency in another body. If those who admit action at a distance were criticized because. there is not much they can say about the manner in which the action is supposed to pass over from the agent to the patient, it might be answered that (a) the expression, "pass over," is unfortunate and misleading, and (b) the manner in which action takes place can only be understood in terms of power, distance and relation, the discussion of which will be resumed later. Besides, to speak ad hominem, these objectors themselves, if they hold that action can take place upon contact, do not trouble to explain how action " passes over " from agent to patient once contact is established. Van Laer himself, though he proposes to use arguments based upon the nature of material action, 61 has based his arguments, as we have seen, on the need for presence and determination and these requirements for action he has identified with surface contact. Contact between bodies cannot mean that the two bodies are continuous. If they were, (a) there would only be one body not two, and (b) transient action would be reduced to immanent activity. Even if we grant that neither alternative is true the problem still remains to show the necessary relation between. the intelligible characteristics of " surface contact " and action. We cannot appeal to simple sense experience because this experience does not give us a distinction between surface contact and action. Contact, in sense experience, means action. In fact we are certain that there is contact between two bodies only when we have seen action occur. A rocket has made contact with the moon when it has acted upon it. We do say that two bodies are in contact when an action is imminent but in this case the imminence means either of two things: (a) that action will prove that they are in contact or (b) that the conditions for the action we are referring to are, as far as we know, at an optimum point. In the first case contact is "'Ibid., p. 75. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 277 reduced to action, because either is proved by the other. In the second case to maintain that this optimum point is brought about by surface contact is to beg the question. Moreover, it must also be shown that surface contact is the only possible means or point for action. This as yet has not been done. Also how surface contact is able to bring about this optimum point has not been described. Therefore if we should maintain that surface contact is needed between the bodies directly or indirectly through or by means of a medium, the only reason given and the only reason that can be given is that only by this contact can bodies codetermine each other. But this d-etermination must be something; it must be some type of event, some type of actuality. If it is something, it obviously does not change the bodies in the manner in which an ordinary event or actual occurrence does so. Yet it must leave its mark upon the bodies concerned and in doing so it acts as a necessary precondition for action. Contact must bring about a conditioned state within the bodies so that action is possible, intelligible and imminent. This condition must be real. It does not effect a physical change but makes possible a physical change. However this condition is the effect brought about within tht; bodies by contact. Its reality is tenuous but real and absolutely essential. If it is absolutely essential it cannot be nothing. It must be an effect of some kind and yet it is not like the efficient effect brought about by action. Let us call it a determinative effect due to the presence of the formal state of one body in another body. Since form is determinative let us call it a formal effect. This however is precisely that which we described earlier as the effect of real predicamental relation. In this view of material action, contact is synonymous with relation. As a result relation is ruled out of the categories applicable to bodily being. There is no reason for this procedure unless we assume that relation requires that the bodies which are related must have their substantial being touch one another at the limits of their extension or their substantial being must touch some other type of bodily being as a medium. According to this 278 JA]dES TALLARICO position bodies can be related only if being is bounded by being, body by body. This is to make relation not something whose formal defining characteristic is to being but rather something which is being. Therefore, this view would reduce all relations to transcendental relation, that is, to so-called relations which are really no relations at all. For Thomists this is clearly unThomistic; and for them as well as others this amounts, in any event, to the rejection of the observation that we can make meaningful judgments concerning the " towardness " of bodies to each other: This man is not to this man as father, nor this human being to this human being as son. Rather, this human being is and this man is. An effect, perhaps, has occurred, and a man was a cause, but we would have to deny that there is a meaning in the expression that the effect is the effect of a cause, and the cause is the cause of the effect. We would have to deny that an occurrence has taken place, and that the meaning of the occurrence is fatherhood and sons4ip. Contact, then, means that there is a determinative effect which refers to another; it does not mean that body must be bounded by body or, indeed, by any kind of being. Therefore the formal element in the conception of " contact " presented above is relation; this is precisely what was indicated from the outset when we saw that relation as the foundation of action at a distance was disguised under the name of contact and by the definition " when surfaces touch." v DISTANCE, DIRECTION We have approached action at a distance slowly and by inquiring whether a medium can give presence and determination. In other words a medium does not seem to be required for action; but since action is over a distance and in a certain direction, it is maintained that there must be a medium of localization which gives distance and direction. Therefore action cannot be " across " an absolute nothingness. The ob- ACTION AT A DISTANCE 279 jection is not empty, and therefore demands an investigation of distance and direction. Let us begin with direction. The objection stated above obviously places the foundation for direction between bodies (and perhaps places, even bodies themselves), in imagination, upon a huge grid-like structure by means of which we can see that bodies have a certain direction with regard to one another. We ordinarily understand by " south " and " north " the reference that a body has to the land and sea areas at zero latitude. Since these areas remain relatively fixed they suit our purposes as reference points. If, for example, an automobile is in motion on a road and-its distance is, at least on the average, decreasing with respect to the North Pole, we say it is travelling in a northerly direction. We correctly recognize that not only does distance require two bodies but also there must be a direction of the distance either as from A to B or B to A. When the distance to a point decreases we say that the activity is directed to that point, at least for the moment, that is, we determine the direction from the increase or decrease of distance; but distance requires direction before we can designate a distance. For example, to say that the distance is 10 miles between A and B assumes that for either direction, from A to B or from B to A the distance is 10 miles. Direction and distance seem to be interrelated but they are not identical even though we can sometimes use them interchangeably. For example, suppose we have two houses one mile apart situated on a level plain and we decide to walk from one to the other and then back again. The direction of our walk and the distance to the house and back are the same, i. e. in either direction the distance is the same. Similarly we from a house on the can say that the direction and plain to the top of a hill and back to the house are the same. The situation in the two examples however is quite different. In the first we require very little change in the amount or type of activity going to or from one house to the other. We only have to tum around. In the second example, though the distance may be exactly the same in feet or yards, the energy and type of activity and time needed to go up and come down are JAMES TALLARICO not the same. Going up the hill'we have to climb, perhaps, at times, crawl. Coming down we may slide or trot. We may be exhausted when we reach the top; when we arrive back on the plain we may be refreshed and comfortable. It may take an hour to climb but only a half hour to descend. Though this is a homely example it reveals something very significant. Why, if the distance and the direction are the same are there such striking differences in the activity? The obvious reason is that the direction is not exactly the same. We recognize this when we say " It is one thing to come down, but quite another thing to go up." Direction seems to add a factor beside the notion " from this to that." What the " this " and the " that " are is very important. In abstraction, as on a map, the reciprocal components of direction are identical except, of course, in the fact that the point of origin of one direction is the termination of the other. In the world of existing bodies this is not true. In reality, direction adds a third dimension, and often we relate this dimension to the distance between bodies. As measured, i. e., as counted in so many feet or miles, there is no difference in either direction; but to traverse that measurement in both directions results in a surprising difference. Direction not only specifies distance as from this to that but actually influences the distance between bodies. Understood with this qualification, real distance between bodies is directional distance. Of course we may not care to understand distance in this way; we may want it to refer to constants present in either direction i. e., the number of feet or miles. Further one could point to the long standing physical formula d=rt where d stands for distance, r for the rate of travel and t for the time of travel. Notice however that this formula abstracts from both direction and the activity of bodies. Physics, when it uses this formula, can only be concerned with what can be reduced to the same type of numerical measurement, length, whether circular or rectilinear. R in the formula means that length which is to be the unit taken so many times e. g., in an hour. The formula is only concerned with the total number of ACTION AT A DISTANCE fl81 unit lengths in a certain time. Direction is entirely discarded. On the contrary the distance that a body must traverse is directional, and the direction of its activity has a great deal to do with the effort it will expend. Furthermore a body in traversing a directional distance is in movement, and this movement is an activity. Activity cannot be understood in terms of lengths and neither can directional distance. Rather they must be understood in terms'of the meaning which they have for the body; and one important aspect of that meaning is the effort, the degree of power, needed to achieve that distance and thereby reach the term of activity. Direction means a great deal more to a body than merely " from this to that." Direction makes real to a body its own distance in terms of activity from another body. It is significant that those men who compute the distance that airplanes must cover do not compute it in terms of miles but in terms of fuel because the fuel represents power and much less power is required if the plane is pushed along by a tail wind. For convenience the measurement is made in terms of gallons but in fact each gallon represents so much energy. Map miles are considered only to determine approximately the amount of energy required in terms of gallons of fuel. The exact determination is made by examining the weather conditions, mountain peaks, cruising altitude, the fuel. required to climb to cruising altitude, and other factors. 62 In fact the present day rocket experiments measure the term to be achieved in terms of power units, so many thrust units. With greater power available the same distance, measured in terms of lengths, becomes easier and easier to overcome. The distance for a body cannot be divorced from its power to achieve that distance. We need only recall the myth of Tantalus. The food may have been only a few inches away but it was not the inches that kept him distant from it, rather he lacked the power to reach it. Except for acting as an enticement, the food may just as well ha.ve been miles away. 62 There is a great deal of truth in the common opinion today that the world has shrunk. Geometrically taken, it is false but for moving bodies the meaning is rich and true. JAMES TALLARICO Thus, as we cannot divorce power and distance, neither can we divorce direction from distance and power. Direction implies not only the " aim " of a body to another but what is required to reach the other body. Considered in this way the foundation for the direction of a body to another is not outside it but rather within it. So also is the power to achieve the directional distance within the body. If these conclusions are true then the distance does not refer primarily to something outside the body. Distance, as well as power and direction, refers (a) to the body which will act and (b) to the body which will be affected. Distance, then, should really be conceived in terms of the agent and the effect to be produced. The effective distance, taking " effective " in the literal connotation as the effect to be produced, is the real meaning of distance. There is no reference to an outside medium nor need there be one. Bearing in mind what we have said, we should understand distance as being within a body. Distance is that which determines that a certain degree of power must be expended in order · that an effect be produced in another being. Distance does, of course, refer to what is outside but it does so only in terms of the disposition of the being concerned. The less power that an agent must expend the shorter will be distance for it. (Conversely and more basically the shorter the distance the less the power needed.) In other words the more efficient a body is the less it will have to expend in order to affect another. Therefore the more powerful the being, in terms of efficiency, the shorter the distance between it and its possible patient. It is obvious though that the type of effect must be considered. For this reason distance must be understood in terms of (a) the type of effect to be produced and (b) the efficiency of the agent to produce it. This is why the proper effect of an agent is the easiest for it because the proper effect flows from the nature and in this sense the minimal aspects of its nature. So, for living things, the easiest transient activity (not passivity) , is reproduction, for radioactive substances, disintegration is easiest. If we consider, then, only the proper effects of each being, the greater its power (in terms of efficiency) to effect ACTION AT A 288 an actuality, the shorter the distance between it and the new actuality and also, therefore, the being of which this effect is a new actuality. It may well be, moreover, that this is what St. Thomas himself may have thought. In the Summa Theologiae, I, 8, objection 8, the argument is: "It is not necessary that God. be in all things since God is the most powerful being and the more powerful the agent, the greater the distance over which it can act." In his reply St. Thomas compares the power of the most powerful agent to the supreme power of God and concludes that God's power is so great that He acts immediately·in all things; 68 "Hence nothing is distant from Him, as if it could be without God in itself." 64 If we interpret St. Thomas to mean that nothing is distant from God because He acts immediately upon everything, this does not take away the implications pointed out, for He acts inimediately because of His supreme power. The greater the power the shorter the distance. It would seem, however, that since to create is a greater act than merely to produce a form in another that God then would have to expend the greatest power. Besides, to expend power is to have no longer that power and therefore also to change, but neither happens to God. Distance, then, such that which " separates '' and " joins ,; bodies, is not predicable to God, for He expends no power. This is true not only because God is pure act but, more important for our purpose, because there is nothing pre-existing God which He requires in order to produce · an effect, either in preservation or creation since the preservation of beings is the continuation· of their creation. 65 In sum, He does not expend power because there is no distance for Him to overcome. Therefore God, in this view, is the most efficient being of all. God's efficient causality is so efficient that •• We will discuss mediacY and immediacy in relation to power, agent and action in a moment. For the present we are only concerned with the relation between power and distance. •• St. Thomas, Summa Theologiae, 1, 8, 1, ad. 8, Piana edition, (Ottawa, 1958). " Unde nihil est distans ab eo, quasi in se illud Deum non habeat." •• St. Thomas, Summa contra Gent., 8, 65, 1-8; 2, 6; 2, 21, 9, Opera Omnia, Vives edition, 84 vols. (Paris, 1894), Vol. U. 284 JAMES TALLARICO it becomes a totally different type of causality, creative causality. Further, since a body's action is a perfection of that body and exists for the sake of its perfection, its " loss " or expenditure of power is only transmuted into a new perfection of itself. God is all perfect however and no action perfects Him; He does not need others in order to perfect Himself. The greater the power (in terms of efficiency) the shorter the distance. Returning to the quotation above, we can understand this sentence to mean that God is not distant from bodies because He is within them. But what does it mean to say that He is within bodies? St. Thomas replies, " God is in all things by His power, inasmuch as all things are subject to His power." 66 " God is said to be in all things by essence . . . because His substance is to all things the cause of their existence." 67 "God is in all things as an active cause." 68 "God is in all things ... as an agent is present to anything upon which it acts." 69 In fact "as long as a thing exists, God must be present to it, according to its mode of existence. The existence of anything is all the closer to it and all the more profoundly belongs to it as the formal idea of all that is in it. . .. Hence it must be that God exists intimately in all things." 70 St. Thomas is being guided by the principle, " A thing exists wherever it operates." Since God operates in all things, therefore He is in all things. 71 We can conclude, then, that at the moment of operation there is no distance, and the measured distance prior to the operation defines the power required to produce the effect. Notice that the objection to which St. Thomas replies is the same argument which Scotus will use some years after St. Thomas' death. Perhaps the " conflict " between them is not concerning action at a distance as Van Laer and others claim; rather it seems to be about the notion, " distance." For Scotus the more perfect the active form which produces the effect, the greater the nature which acts and the greater the distance over which it •• Summa Theol., 1, 8, Sc. •• Ibid., ad. 1. •• Ibid., Sc. •• Ibid., l, 8, lc. •• Ibid. 71 Ibid., sed ccmtra. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 285 can act. 72 For St. Thomas the higher the nature which acts the greater its power and the more dependent the effect and the affected being are upon it. In the action of a lower nature the effect is converted into the nature of the product and it will remain after the agent's action ceases; but in a higher nature, e. g., such as light or the action of the supreme power such as God, the being does not last at all when the agent's action ceases. Therefore the being, in respect of the effect that is produced in it, is far less independent of the power of the agent. Obviously, where the whole to be of the being is dependent upon the agent, the agent must always be in it causing it to be and therefore the agent cannot at any time be distant from it/ 8 Distance be understood apart from power. Accordingly we can add a new notion to distance-independence. God is not distant from bodies because none of them is independent of Him in any respect. Among bodies consequently, the distance "between" them· is not between but in them. The distance is inversely proportional to the degree of dependence of the affected being upon the cause. Since no body is completely dependent upon another, bodies will always be distant from each other even when they are at such a small geometrical distance from each other that they are said to be in contact. The substantial distinctness of bodies is itself a distance. Independence therefore is the degree to which bodies exhibit a resistance to being affected; and the degree of independence is the measure of the distance. Since independence implies the presence of and a reference to another, distance therefore refers to the way a being is independent with respect to an other being, i. e., to a being outside it. Consequently the distance for transient action is founded upon the independence · and otherness of bodies, and more profoundly, upon whatever in corporeal being brings about independence and otherness. More specifically for our purposes here, distance is the degree of resistance of the patient to the agent in a certain aspect of n Joannes Duns Scotus, In Librum Primum Sententiarum, Dist. 87, q. 1, comm. (a), Ope7a Omnia, Vives edition, 26 vols. (Paris, 1891), Vol. 10, pp. 596-97. •• Sum. Contra Gent., 8, 65, 6; Summa Theol., 1, 8, 1c. JAMES TALLARICO their existence. Distance is therefore directional and relational and when considered not as measured but in itself as a foundation for measurement, distance is this directional relation. Obviously the effective distance will also be dependent upon the type of effect that is to be produced and the power required; but both will reflect the x·elative efficiency of the agent. For a cause to produce a low order effect very easily does not make it the most efficient agent. A higher effect may be completely impossible to it, even in the same patient body. The cause will be in the affected body as regards this effect but may be totally distant from it as regards other ways in which the body can be affected. Insofar as this effect is. concerned, the affected body is dependent upon the agent. We can also say that since only a part of the patient body is the effect of the agent that therefore the agent is not immediate with the whole body but only with the particular effect and my me3tns of the effect, with the whole body. God, however, is immediate to the whole body because the body as a whole is an effect of His action and dependent upon Him. A bodily agent will be immediate with the whole body only if the body is acting as a means to carry the whole power of the agent. It should not be surprising if this brief analysis of the text of St. Thomas 'shows agreement with the view of distance that has been taken here. For he concludes, proceeding from above, to what may also be concluded from below: note that in the text quoted (p. he simply reverses the premise of the objection. The greate:r the power of an agent does not imply that it can act over a greater distance; rather it implies that distances are shorter for it.H VI MEDIUM Let us remain with St. Thomas in order to clarify one other notion in action and action at a distance. That notion is "Summa. Contra Gent., !l, 6, 6; !, 20, 4. ACTION AT A DISTANCE 287 " medium." We hope to clarify further what has been said about distance and at the same time see precisely what he means by medium in those texts that are quoted to support the view that St. Thomas rejects action at a distance without the use of a medium. For example this text is often quoted: "No action of an agent, however powerful it may be acts at a distance, except through a medium." 75 At the same time we should see (a) what he means when he says that God acts immediately upon bodies and (b) how a bodily agent acts immediately as well as mediately. In Contra Gentes 3, 68, 4, St. Thomas says that " Whenever an agent is present to only one of its effects, its action cannot be transferred to another, except by using the first effect as an intermediary, because the agent and the patient must be simultaneous." Van Laer understands and translates this passage so that every agent is present only to one of its effects and thereby must use it as a medium; 76 but the rest of the section in chapter 4 makes clear just what St. Thomas means in this passage. He gives us an example. The heart is the first effect of the motive power and by means of the heart the motive power activates the various members of the body. In this situation, when a first effect is used to affect others, that effect must be proportionate to the entire power of the agent otherwise the agent could not use its entire _power. In another passage he says that if an agent could not use its entire power because that upon which it acts is not proportionate to it, the unusable power would be in vain; 77 and in another passage he implies that since God made the total being God would act uselessly, but He does not. 78 Now in the quotation above St. Thomas Summa Theol., 1, 8, 1, ad. 8. "Dicendum quod nqllius agentis, quantumcumque virtuosi, actio procedit ad aliquid distans, nisi niquantum in illud per media agit." Van Laer, p. 77; Francis X. Meehan, Efficient Causality in Aristotle and St. Thomas (Washington, 1940), p. 288. Van Laer, p. 78. The text is: "Quodcumque agens est praesens tantum uni suorum effectuum, eius actio non potest derivari ad alia nisi illo mediante, eo quod agens et patiens oportet esse simul." •• Summa Contra Gent., 2, 16, 7. •• Ibid., 2, 22, 4. . fl88 JAMES TALLARICO does not say or imply that every action of an agent is immediate, as the motive power's action upon the heart, or mediate, as the operation of the motive power by the medium of the heart acts upon the members of the body. He merely gives us the conditions under which there must be a medium. There may be other conditions which require a medium but we are not told that there are such conditions. He then describes the conditions under which this type of medium can be a medium. It must be able to carry the whole of the agent's power. We should note that his purpose in the paragraph is only to show that no creature can act as a medium for God's power as it would have to if He were present to only one of His effects. The first effect in other words must function as a pure means; no creature can do this for God. Therefore God acts immediately in all things. This is all that can be drawn from section 4. In discussing the relationship of power, action and substance in creatures and in God, he mentions that in those things whose powers are not their substance, the powers themselves are accidents. 79 The things he refers to are creatures. In them the action is distinct from and a complement to the power.80 Active power is the principle of acting upon another, because by its power the agent is related and applied, in action, to an external thing. 81 By power the agent exists in another. 82 Since no body's substance is identical with its existence, neither can its power be identical with its existence. Action follows upon what is in act, for act is also the principle of action. 88 Since the essence of bodies is not their existence, the action which is determined by their essence requires a prior existent being upon which they can act. Their action cannot produce being absolutely but only this particular being or this particular way of being.84 They can only bring a form into a matter. The matter acts as the recipient of the form, the new actuality. 85 Nothing of this is true of God. His power is His action and His action is His •• Ibid., !il, 8, 4. 80 Ibid., 2, 9, 2. 81 Ibid., 2, 7, 1. 8 ' Summa Theol., 1, 8, 8, ad. 8. Summa Contra Gent., 2, 6, 8 & 6. Ibid., 2, !ill, 9. 85 Ibid., 2, 16, 5-7. 83 84 ACTION AT A DISTANCE fl89 substance and His substance is to be. God therefore is immediate to all things, not only because no being can act as a medium for His power, but also because He needs (a) nothing in the thing upon which to act in order to affect a thing, i. e., no pre-existing matter to receive His effort 86 and (b) no principle of action, as do created agents, i. e., no power apart from His substance. Power is attributed to God only in the things as made, not as something distinct from His action as it is in created beings. The being uses the power which uses the matter in another in order to make a form present in it. In this sense every body acts through a medium: (a) a medium of its own, the power, because the body cannot act through its substance and (b) the medium of the matter in another, because the agent can only affect the other through its matter. In brief, since a body must use a means which is based upon an act which is other than its substance, then it requires a means in the body upon which it will act in order to produce its effect in the patient. Now taking the sections 4-8 in Contra Gentes fl, 16 together with the objections 11 and 14 of question 1, article 1, in the De Potentia, St. Thomas' notion of medium in these contexts should be quite clear. It does not refer to something outside the agent body. The eleventh objection states that the power which is assigned to the second species of quality cannot be attributed to God. St. Thomas agrees. This type of power " belongs to creatures who do not act immediately through their essential forms, but through the medium of ac<;!idental forms, whereas God acts immediately by His essence." 87 The fourteenth objection states that "energy is a medium between substance and work. But God does not work through a medium. Therefore He does not work by energy, nor consequently •• Ibid., 2, 16. •• St. Thomas, De Potentia Dei, 1, 1, ad. 11, Opera Omnia, Vives edition, 34 vols. (Paris, 1894), Vol. 13. "Ad undecimum dicendum, quod potentia, quae est in secunda specie qualitatis, non attribuitur Deo: haec enim est creaturarum, quae non immediate per formas suas essentiales agunt, sed mediantibus formis accidentalibus; Deus autem immediate agit per suam essentiam." . 290 JAMES TALLARICO by power." St. Thomas replies, " God's power is not a medium in reality, since it differs not from His essence except logically: which is sufficient for our speaking of it as though it were a medium. But God does not work through a medium that is really distinct from Himself." 88 St. Thomas could not be more explicit. The medium he refers to, as we do, is within the body. He was concerned with the fundamentals of action in creatures and creator. He points out that action in creatures occurs by and through media, one in the patient, the other in the agent; therefore the distance for the coming-to-be of a new actuality is dependent upon the dispositions of both media. The distance is within beings. Viewing action, not as indicating the new act in the patient but as indicating the required proper dispositions of both of these mediums for the new act, action is a pure means and as such there is no problem of it "passing over " from agent to patient. Action is not a travelling accident. Distance, direction, medium, action and the new actuality engendered in the patient, presence and determination are all within the agent and patient. VII CoNCLUSION If the conditions for action are within the agent and patient, then it follows that action at a distance is possible. In fact all transitive action must be at a distance because all bodies are related by a relation of distance, i. e., all bodies are to some degree independent of one another and other than one another. Of course we have had to recast such notions as distance, direction, medium; but evidently, this can be done in such a way that inherent absurdity and self-contradiction are removed from the notion of " action at a distance without the use of a 88 Ibid., ad. 14. "Ad decimum quartum dicendum, quod potentia Dei non est media secundum rem, quia non distinguitur ab essentia, nisi ratione; et ex hoc habetur quod siguificetur ut medium. Deus autem non agit per medium realiter dift'erens a seipso." ACTION AT. A DISTANCE .291 medium." Fundamentally, this has been the difficulty with action at a distance: for if distance, direction and medium have their foundation in some thing between or around bodies, then obviously the only distant body which the agent can affect is one which is mediately instead of immediately in surface contact with it. The same conclusion is reinforced if it is thought that surface contact makes action possible because it relates bodies and thereby makes them exist with respect to one another by presence and determination. However no one has yet shown that there is a necessary (or any other) relation between surface contact and relation without (a) in effect, reducing the latter to the former and (b) assuming that bodies are isolated if they are not in surface contact. Similarly, when power or efficiency to achieve an effect is divorced from the distance that a body has to another, -then the distance must lie outside the agent and patient. Distance,, then can only mean the number of equal bodies which can be placed end to end between the agent and patient instead of the single medium which now separates them. This is very strange because it is by the operation of the power of the agent that an action occurs in another body. Why should the number of the geometrical measurement be more important in determining the distance a possible agent is to its possible patient than the agent's power to affect the patient and the patient's passive power to resist the agent? In fact it is not, but it is understandable why we tend to give to this geometrical measurement the title, " distance." It is very convenient. It is based upon the relatively :fixed extension which bodies .exhibit. This relatively :fixed extension can serve as the basis for a divisional unit which we call " one," in terms of inches, feet or miles; and this can give us a measurement upon the directional grid-like structure which our mathematizing imagination facilitates for us. It becomes very easy then to designate the " distance " and " direction '' one body has from another. " This " is three feet above" that." That is, it is very easy for us; for the bodies themselves, the only distance that concerns them is their ability to affect another or resist the power of another. J AnlES TALLARICO The distance for transient action is this mutually related resistive and affective status of the agent and patient. If the whole universe were to remain exactly as it now is except for one thirig-that there was a complete absence of power-each being would be equally distant from every other in the sense that each would be equally impervious to the influence of the others, all geometrical measurements to the contrary. It is power, active and passive, present and absent, that indicates the true distance one body has to another. This is so because power must overcome, not a certain number of geometrical indicators which refer to something between bodies, but rather those dispositions within bodies which prevent action; and because it is power which overcomes this distance between bodies, the natural, i.e., the proper, measure of distance is power, not geometry. JAMES TALLARICO St. Michael's College, Univeraity of Torrmto THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSIDP E VER since 1954, when an ailing Pontiff devoted some of his failing energy to adding one-more star to Mary's crown with the Encyclical Letter, Ad Caeli Reginam, there has been no doubt in the minds of Catholics that Mary, the Mother of God, is Queen of the Universe. This letter marked a climax in the deep and chivalric devotion of the people of God to the Lady Mary. While not a solemn definition, the Encyclical may well be taken as Pope Pius XII's witness to the age-old and ordinary teaching of the Church; certainly,. the fact that Mary is Queen of the Universe is solemnly definable. Even the slightest acquaintance with the theological literature that has appeared since 1954 makes it evident that two major problems remain open for discussion by those who hold firmly to the fact of Mary's Queenship. The first problem is concerned with the exact nature of the queenship to be attributed to Mary. In what way do we build up the analogy of queenship so that it will be verified of her? Especially, may we, must we, attribute royal power to Mary? If so, to what extent? The second problem, though intimately linked with the first, is formally distinct from it: in the exercise of her queenly role, does Mary enjoy only moral power, or does she also serve as a physical instrumental cause? Discussion of this second problem will not engage us in this paper. We are concerned rather with a possible solution to the first; hence the subjectthe unique character of Ma:cy's Queenship. Some aspects of this Queenship are admitted by all. It has been pointed out many times that the title " Queen " belongs to Mary, as the title "King" belongs to Christ, in a metaphorical sense. This is in accord with the custom of recognizing excellence in any field by imposing the titles " king " or " queen " on its possessor; so the lion is the " king " of beasts; 294 JAMES M:. EGAN · the moon is the " queen " of the night; there are " home .run kings" and" queens of beauty." In this line, Our Lord and Our Lady, because of their supreme perfection in the order of grace and of nature, are most fittingly called the King and Queen of Creation. While it is most important to acknowledge the ineffable preeminence of Christ and Mary in the whole order of creation, the concern here is with the proper or literal sense of these titles. All agree also that there is no question of Mary's being a queen regnant, as Queen Elizabeth II of England or Queen Juliana of the Netherlands. These are" kings" who happen to be women and hence are called" queens"; whatever there is of royal power left in England or Holland it is in their hands. But that Mary is· Queen in the kingdom of which Christ is King must never be forgotten. It is commonly agreed that Mary is Queen Mother, and in a very special way. Ordinarily, the "queen mother" is the woman who gave birth to a child who eventually becomes king. She is not his queen. Now Mary gave birth to one who is king by that very birth. The Church does not hesitate to accommodate to Christ the words of Sacred Scripture concerning Solomon: " He was by his own mother." The focus here is on Christ's kingship as man. As man, he becomes king first of all by birth right, by his birth from the Virgin Mother. It was theoretically possible that God would ask no more of Mary than to be the mother of her Divine Son. Clearly, all he asked of Joseph was to be the husband of Mary and the foster-father of Jesus. This function was confined to the early years of Our Lord's life; this is why Joseph is no longer on the scene when Jesus begins his public ministry (and his heavenly Father makes his appearance). If Mary's task had been confined to that of mother, she too, in all probability, would have disappeared from this earth before Jesus began his life-work. She would still be Queen Mother. No greater dignity could be conceived; yet, in· the strict sense, Mary would not be our mother in the sense we know her to be, nor would there be any THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSHIP 295 further question about the character of her queenship. Mary would have been the first subject in the Kingdom of Christ, but he would have been the sole ruler. But this is not the whole story of God's designs for Mary. In some mysterious way, it was true of Christ, as it was true of Adam and every man: " It is not good for man ·to be alone." Obviously, the need is not really on Christ's part; rather it is on ours. It was better for us that our salvation should be wrought, obversely to our destruction, by a man and a woman. That is why Mary's consent at the Incarnation was to the twofold function of being the Mother and· the Helpmate of Christ. Hence, she is Queen Mother and Queen Consort. The Kingdom of Christ has a King and a Queen in the proper sense of the terms. They possess a kingdom and subjects over whom they actually exercise royal power. A legitimate objection might be raised at this point: there is no question but that Christ is King in the truest and most proper sense of the word: he has a kingdom and subjects over whom he exercises supreme dominion. Mary is truly Queen Consort, but does it follow that she shares in a real way in the king's regnative power? Can an answer to this question be found by following closely the analogy of earthly queenship? It seems not, or rather, the evidence would incline to a negative answer. If Mary's function is in line with that of earthly queens, then she has only a negligible part to play in actually ruling the kingdom. All the evidence points to the fact that the queen has more to do with the myth of royalty than with its essence. The queen consort is obviously essential to an hereditary monarchy; she also contributes greatly to the myth of royal blood. The blood of royalty has, in fact, no mystic quality, yet human experience has shown that a woman with a special family background and up-bringing makes the best help-mate for the king. And certainly her most important function is to provide an heir to the throne. Another function of the queen is to provide a private life JAMES M. EGAN for the king, a family life for him and the children. While it is true in a sense that the king has no private life, that he is essentially a public person, this is true only in a symbolic way. It is most important that the king have a private life, that he be not exposed continuously to the public notice, at the price of being less a public person, it is the queen who has the responsibility of providing this privacy. As a public person herself, the queen has the important function of contributing greatly to the social prestige of the monarchy (another reason why she should be of " noble '·' blood). She is the king's official hostess on state occasions that are not formally political. To the king, as king, she is presumed to be (in many cases, I'm sure, mythically,) First Counsellor, for she too, in a womanly way, holds the interests of the whole kingdom close to her heart and her thoughts. But does the queen in any real sense exercise royal dominion? The evidence seems to indicate that in human kingdoms, she does not. While we do not wish to pretend that the following points are in any way exhaustive or rigorously probative, they are indicative, and should be pursued further. The Columbia Encyclopedia has no entry under the word "queen." The Syntopicon, of The Great Book's series, does list " monarchy " as one of the great ideas; yet neither in the article, nor in the outline of references to the Great Books, nor in the general index (in Vol. III) does the term "queen" appear. The conclusion from this, it seems, is that a thorough exploration of the concept of monarchy is possible without reference to a queen. The Encyclopedia Britannica does devote a short article to "Queen"; 1 it is concerned mostly with such nominal distinctions as used above, without suggesting in any way that the queen plays an essential role in the ruling power of the king. Another article is devoted to the term " Consort "; 2 this proved most fruitful. " Consort, in general, a partner or asso1 Vol. XVIII, p. 840. • Op. cit., Vol. VI, pp. THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSHIP 297 ciate, but more particularly a husband or wife. The word is also used in conjunction with some titles, as ' queen consort,' ' prince consort.' " There is also an express reference to the status of the queen consort, at least in British law. "Under the law of Great Britain, the queen consort is a subject, but has certain privileges." Historically, there have been several ways of providing finances for her needs: " Provision now is made for the queen consort by statute." Of equal interest is the status of the prince consort. " In the cases of queens regnant in English history, the positions of the husbands differed. When Queen Mary I married Philip of Spain it was provided by every safeguard that words could suggest that the queen alone should exercise all the powers of the Crown; official documents, however, were to issue in their joint names. William III occupied the throne jointly with his wife, Mary II. . . . . . After the accession of Queen Elizabeth II, it was announced in a royal warrant that her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh, would hold precedence next to the queen." The key in both cases is " particular statute." We shall see that this concept may help us to determine the unique character of Mary's queenship. It may very well be that the analogy of human queenship is not to be followed too rigorously in trying to determine Mary's status as Queen in Christ's kingdom. What, for instance, is the function of Mary in regard to the royal descendance of Our Lord? Is he the Son of David through his mother? While Catholic Scripture scholars maintain that Mary is also of the house of David, the Synoptics are obviously concerned to establish this through St. Joseph. This seems to be an important aspect of his role in the it is a matter ·of indifference whether Mary is also a lineal descendant of David. Even if she was, the title could not be claimed through her according to Jewish law. This does not in any way clash with her function of messianic maternity, 8 but is a much more profound aspect of God's plan than carnal descent. • Cf. Introduction a la Bible, Robert-Feuillet. Vol. I, p. 854. 298 JAMES M. EGAN The Jewish mentality does not seem to be concerned with the myth of "royal blood"; David's blood was not mysteriously transmuted when he was consecrated king. Moreover, it was not Mary's function to produce an heir to the throne, for it was occupied by an eternal King. She had the more awe-inspiring function (and this was part of her messianic maternity) of conceiving and giving birth to all the people of the Kingdom, communicating to them, in her own way, the royal blood of divine grace, making them all a kingly people. Mary did, for many years, provide a private life for the King, a family life. And, certainly, her presence in heaven at the side of the King adds "social" prestige to the monarchy. To designate her as " first counsellor," in the proper sense of the word, is probably too strong: " Who has been his counsellor?" Perhaps" confidante'' would be better, for she shares completely in all the plans of the King for his people. These functions, although analogical, do not go beyond those ordinarily assigned to earthly queens. Can we assert that Mary is unique, as Queen, inasmuch as she shares intimately in the ruling power of Christ? It would seem so, if we examine the particular statute of her appointment, the eternal decree of her predestination, which we are assured, is the same decree as the one that determines the Incarnation of the Son of God. As we have already suggested, Mary is destined to be both Queen Mother and Queen Consort. In,_ this she is unique, unlike any other mother. Ordinarily, a mother does not share, except from afar, from the sidelines, as it were, in the life work of her son. She conceives him, brings him into this world, feeds and clothes him, accompanies him to the threshold of life, and then hands him over to another woman, who will be his helpmate. Mary did for Jesus what every mother does for her son; she too accompanies him to the threshold of life, but it is her destiny to pass over that threshold and share intimately in his life work. A casual glance at the Gospel story might lead one to suspect that Mary too had only a peripheral part to play in Christ's public life. She only appears on the edge of the crowds THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSHIP 299 that surround him. Yet one must remember that Christ's real work was accomplished on Calvary and Mary was there. Obviously only a mother could have shared in this work, for only a mother could have suffered together with her own flesh and blood; only a mother could have sacrificed her rights to the life of her Son, which he had received from her. There are solid theological reasons for maintaining that Mary's share in the redemption is real, that she has made a real contribution to the generation of the people of God. If this is so, who can deny that she now enjoys real power in the Kingdom of God? This point is made quite strongly by Pope Pius XII in his encyclical Ad Caeli Reginam 4 in which he explicitly makes a parallel between the two titles of Christ as King and of Mary as Queen. The first title has the reality of the hypostatic union for its basis; the second has the reality of the Redemption. "Now, the most Blessed Virgin Mary is to be called Queen, not only by reason of her divine maternity, but also because by the will of God she has had an outstanding part in the work of our eternal salvation " (p. 8) . " Hence we may certainly conclude that just as Christ, the new Adam, must be called King, not only because He is the Son of God, but also -because He is our Redeemer; so, by a certain kind of analogy, the most Blessed Virgin is Queen, not ·only because she is the Mother of God, but also because, as the new Eve, she was associated with the new Adam" (p. 9) .11 • October 11, 1954. Citations from the translation published by NCWC. • Or must we accept the startling conclusion expressed· by Yves M.-J. Congar, 0. P. in an article originally publiShed in Suippl6mtmt de la Vie Spirituelle (1959), translated under the title: " The Theology of Religious Women," and appearing in Review for Religious, XIX (Jan. 1960), I, 15-89? The eminent French theologian, many years ago, expressed soine concern about the analogy of the term " queen," as applied to the Blessed Virgin. Cf. Congar, "Royante de Marie," Retnte des Sciences Pkil. et Theol., 25, 1986}, p. 76i. The position expressed in thiS article seems to be a logical consequen<:eof limiting oneself to the prototype of the earthly queen. The Church can be looked upon as reality-grace and. sanctification (the culmination of holiness in all the predestined is the eschatological status of the Church) ; or as sacrament-the means of grace or sanctification. The Church as sacrament obviously will pass away; the Church as reality will remain forever. There is no question but what Mary is at the pinrui.cle of grace. " In the Church 300 JAMES M. EGAN In 6 the Kingdom of Christ, there is a King and a Queen, both of whom exercise royal power; we must now ask, how do Christ and Mary exercise this power? We all know that ruling power (royal or not) has a threefold aspect. It is generally divided into legislative power, executive power, and judicial power. In our country such powers have been distributed among various individuals or groups of individuals; thus some have legislative power-Congress; the executive power rests with the President; the judicial power rests ultimately in the Supreme Court. In a kingdom, all that power rests in the one person-the king. He may communicate it; he may delegate it, but ultimately it rests in him. In the Kingdom of God, all power has been given to Christ. So Christ, as King, has the fullness of legislative, executive, and judicial power. Now, if Mary is Queen in the proper sense of the word, with real power,. she too must rule. Otherwise she is no different from an earthly queen. Hence, we must also ask ourselves: Can we say that Mary shares in the legislative, executive and judicial power that is Christ's? In what sense has he given her a part in actually ruling the kingdom? The exercise of regal power is ordered to the good of the subjects, to lead subjects of this world she had neither a function or a hierarchical qignity. It could readily be said of 'her that she is a member, the first member, of the laity, if there were not danger of belying by this way of speaking her perfection as a consecrated member of the faithful" (p. 17). At this point the author quotes Mons. Journet, quoting St. Thomas, to the effect that Mary is highest in holiness, not highest in hierarchical dignity. He then continues: "She is the type, or better, the perfect personification of the Church, but the Church as a final end, not as a means. Mary is 'the eschatological ikon of the Church' (L. Bouyer, Le Culte de la Mere de Dieu)" (ibid.). The ambiguity here lies in the notion of hierarchical dignity. Of course, Mary is not a member of the hierarchy; she is something incredibly more. The hierarchy as a temporal aspeCt of the Church, has relatively particular competence. It is precisely she has attained the utmost of her perfection that she is, not only an ' eschatological ikon ' of the Church, but also the Mother of the Church here on earth and its Queen. Mary has a universal competence in the life of the Church in 'history. Her recent appearances, especially at Lourds and Fatima, bear witness to the fact that she does have a role to play in the Church as means. 8 The following paragraphs appeared originally as part of article published in Integrity, December 1955, of which there is a Marian Reprint. THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSHIP 801 so to act in harmony, in community, that the common good of the whole kingdom may be preserved and advanced. Certainly, everything comes from Christ as the source. Can we say now that Mary is associated with Christ in a special way, that she, too, has a ruling function to perform? The answer, I believe, is yes: Mary is Queen in the Kingdom of Christ, and she shares in His royal power because of peculiar statute and in each of its three aspects. First of all, the legislative power. At first glance, we would be inclined to say that Mary does not share in the legislative power, for this is the power that initiates everything, the power that requires the fullness of prudence, of justice, of fortitude, of temperance, of all the virtues, the power that is capable of foreseeing all the needs of the common good and then laying down the regulations, the rules, the laws that all subjects must follow if they are to gain the common good. Certainly all the laws of the Kingdom of God here on earth are enacted by Christ. We know of no law that Mary has determined, no law of which she has been the source. As far as legislating for the Kingdom of God, that is totally in Christ, and, in a minor way, in the hierarchy of the Church. The fundamental laws of Christianity have been established by Christ himself, and Mary has had no part in initiating the legislation. We can say that she has approved it, has embraced it wholeheartedly. We can also say that she was its first subject. She was the one who manifested most perfectly what complete submission to the law of Christ will do. However, it is important to realize that there is a tremendous distinction between the New Law of Christ and the Old Law (as well as all civil law). St. Paul alludes to it frequently. The Old Law was a law written on tablets of stone. The Old Law indicated what was to be done; it did not give the means to do. The New Law is a law of and truth, a law of love. It has not been written down by its legislator; Christ wrote no code of laws. It is true that much of it is written down in Sacred Scripture: Christian laws abound there, but we know that the New Law has been handed down principally by tradition, by the living voice of the Church, and that it is a law of 80fl JAMES M. EGAN love, a law of the spirit. It is a law that, in a sense, can only be promugated by the Holy Spirit, for it must be written in the hearts of men. Promulgation is necessary if a law is to bind its subjects. Promulgation is definitely an aspect of legislative power. It is from this aspect that Mary shares in the legislative function of her Son. Under the direction of the Spirit of Truth and Love, Mary fulfills her role of instilling the law of Christ into the hearts of men, helping them to understand it and to apply it in every event of their lives. Once the law has been promulgated, it must be carried out, and here Mary enters into the executive aspect of her Queenship. She certainly possesses a share in the executive power in a very special way: this is a way that is most fitting for a queen, who is also a mother, for, in a certain· sense, Mary initiates things. God has left to her the task of being conscious -not that he himself is not conscious-but he has left to her the task of being aware, first of all, of what has to be done. Christ knew that the Wine was giving out: He knew it in the beatific vision, as well as by his infused knowledge; He probably even knew it by his acquired knowledge, for he could guess what was going on, he could note the disturbance, sense the embarrassment. Yet he never said a word; he left it to Mary to call attention to it. That is what is meant by saying that Mary initiates things in the order of execution. It can be said that in every case Christ leaves the initiative to Mary. She is the one who is conscious o1 what is needed. Her vision is such as to embrace all mankind, everything that pertains to the Kingdom of God, here and hereafter, from beginning to end. Mary, therefore, is always aware of the needs of all, and she is the one who initiates by her intercession. Her prayer is all powerful. In the beautiful Matins hymn for the feast of Our Lady, Mediatrix of all Graces, occur the following words: These sacred fountains of God's saving water Who shall direct them for a people purchased? Given to Mary is this loving office As Mediatrix. THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSHIP 808 Mary, Our Mother, all the graces garnered By Our Redeemer unto us dispenseth; Freely at her prayer her Son gladly raineth Gifts of his bounty.' This is the function of Mary, sharing in a special way the executive power, seeing to it that the fruits of the Redemption are applied to every soul. So we know that every grace we receive, every grace that anyone receives, has been first of all noticed, asked for, interceded for, by Mary. It is a special gift of Mary's motherly love for us, which she can easily bestow, because she is Queen. She is rightly called Omnipotentia supomnipotence; not omnipotence itself-that is God-but the next thing to it. This is a wonderful aspect of Mary's function in our lives, because, even though she is joined to Christ in the work of redeeming us, in acquiring everything that is necessary for the full perfection of the Kingdom, it is also up to her to share in his executive power in a peculiarly maternal way. One of Mary's most precious titles is Almoner of God; this means that Christ has placed everything in Mary's hands so that she, knowing God's designs and God's will, dispenses them to all of us. The third aspect of royal power is judicial power. Theologians seem hesitant to allow Mary any share in :the judicial power of her Son. Yet the doctrine of St. Thomas would seem to demand that Mary have a share, for he explicitly admits others to participate in judging. One reason given by theologians for excluding Mary is that judgment is a manifestation of justice; hence, the judge is a symbol of justice, whereas 1\!lary is the Mother of Mercy. St. Thomas, on the other hand, tells us that in all the works of God justice and mercy are intertwined. He finds in the most unexpected works of God this intimate conciliation of justice and mercy. It is true that the justification of a sinner is most perfectly a manifestation of • Byrnes, A., HymtnB of the Dominican Missal and Breviarg, St. Louis, 1948, p. 298. 304 JAMES M. EGAN God's mercy; the condemnation of a sinner to punishment is primarily a manifestation of God's justice; yet God rewards, and in rewarding satisfies the ultimate demands of his justice; God condemns, yet he never condemns as much as he might. There is always mercy in every judgment; hence, we can be sure that Mary too is present at every judgment. She is the Advocate of Mercy, and God knows how much we need her. St. Thomas also tells us that there are three judgments. There is, first of all, the judgment that is going on continuously throughout our life, the rewards and punishments, the favors we receive and the favors we do not receive, here and now. We often wonder why people who seem to ignore God, who have no use for religion, prosper in a worldly way. Perhaps, that is the result of a judgment to grant them a certain amount of this world's goods, even though they have ignored the rights of God. Another person, who has sincerely tried to please God, seems to have one trial after another. That is also a question of judgment-to discern what is going to be given to each man; Really there is no ultimate problem in this apparently unequal dealing with men. What God is doing in the one case is giving the first man a reward for what little he has done, so that he will have nothing to hold against God when the end comes: " Behold, you have received your reward." ·In the other case, God is giving the man every opportunityto build up treasure in heaven. Here we have a form of judgment, and we can hardly doubt Mary's connection with it; witness the judgments she announced at Fatima. The principal judgment from the viewpoint of the individual man, is that which we call the particular jadgment. This takes place at the instant of death, when each one will be judged by Christ. The faithful have always believed that Mary would be present then as the Advocate of Mercy. What of the general judgment? Is Mary going to be there, not merely as a spectator, but actively taking part? The notion that Christ has saved all judgment, and particularly the last judgment, to himself is not quite accurate. As a matter of fact, he himself has promised some that they are going to sit in judgment with him. Recall the incident when St. Peter said to THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF MARY'S QUEENSHIP 305 Our Lord: "We have given up all things and have followed thee." As the author of a homily on this passage remarks: " Look what he gave up; an old boat and some worn-out fishing nets. In any event, he gave up everything he had; so he asks: "What reward are we going to have?" And Our Lord said to him: "On the last day, on the day of regeneration, you are going to sit together with me, judging the twelve tribes of Israel," which, the theologians say, includes everybody. So the fact of the matter is that some are going to share judgment with Christ; and, according to Christian tradition; not only the Apostles. Referring to this passage, especially to the close link between: "We have given up everything," and" The reward is: you shall judge," St. Thomas very beautifully explains why the reward will be: " You shall judge." The people who will be judged-if they have failed-have failed because they have not given up the world. They have tried to enjoy the good things of this world; they refuse to detach themselves from creatures. Who else except one who has practiced detachment, has given up all things, will have the necessary balance, will be able to judge accurately, will be able to assist the Judge? So all those who have practiced voluntary detachment, especially those who have taken a voluntary vow of poverty, will assist in the last judgment. If this is true of the Apostles, if it is true of the poor in spirit, then it is eminently true of Mary, who is the most detached of all. Others then are going to be associated with Christ in the final judgment. What are they going to do? St. Thomas maintains 8 that the detached will judge by cooperating in the task of revealing to each individual the cause of the damnation or salvation, both of himself and of all others, somewhat in the way the higher angels are said to illuminate the lower angels and men. A word of explanation is needed to understand this function. The purpose of the final judgment is to justify the ways of God 8 Summa Tkeologiae, Suppl., q. 89. 806 JAMES M. EGAN to man and to manifest the ultimate glory of God. As each one leaves this life, he receives his reward. St. Thomas is of the opinion that two groups will not be subjected to the final judgment-the very good and the very bad. All will recognize the justice of the reward or punishment meted out to them. The ones who will be judged are those that have a mixture, that were not too bad, or not too good. Perhaps, they were good enough to get to heaven, but not very far up; they were bad enough to get to hell, -but not too far down. Here there might be a question, either in their own minds, or in the minds of others. There is no question of changing the sentence; there is merely the task of explaining it. Certainly, we will wonder about the fate of those we· have known on earth. We will have made judgments about them, yet we may find that in the end they do not have the place we thought they should have. We will like to know the ele:tnents that entered into the final judgment. That is the task assigned to the poor in spirit. Throughout the whole mass of men gathered together for the final judgment, there will be passing the Apostles, the voluntary poor, the poor in spirit. They will go about and explain to men, helping them to understand both the justice and the mercy of Christ's judgment of themselves and others. If that is true of the Apostles and others, then it must be even truer of Mary; for no one has been so detached as she, no one so deeply poor in spirit. Mary, then, in a proper, though very special sense, is Queen of the Universe, possessing real power in accordance with the stipulations of the decree predestinating her, exercising it in a truly feminine manner in the legislative and judicial spheres as well as in the executive; indeed, Mary is Queen of the kingdom in which Christ is King. JAMES M. EGAN, O.P. School of TheolOfl'!l, St. Mar'/1'11 College, _Notre Dame, Ind. NOTES ON OUR CONTRIBUTORS JoHN THoRNHILL, S.M., S. T. L., PH. D., a graduate of the Pontifical Athenaeum " Angelicum," Rome, is presently teaching philosophy at St. Peter Chanel Seminary, Toongabbie, New South Wales, Australia, where he is continuing his work in the philosophy of history and culture. JAMEs J. TALLARico, Ja., M.A., whose contribution in this issue is his M.A. thesis in the Department of Philosophy, St. Michael's College, University of Toronto, continues his studies and preparation of a doctoral dissertation on the philosophical concepts of inertial in preNewtonian natural philosophy at the University of Toronto, Toronto, Canada. JAMEs M. EoAN, 0. P., M.A., T. D. (Angelicum), Director & Professor of Dogmatic Theology at St. Mary's College, Notre Dame, Ind., of Magister, author & lecturer in the fields of dogmatic. and spiritual thealogy, contributes frequently to such journals as The. TlwrrUat; Angelicum, and Cross &: Crown. WILLIAM A. WALLACE, 0. P ., M. S., PH. D., S. T. D., an associate member of The Albertus Magnus Lyceum, author of Scientific Methodology of Theodoric of Freiberg, lecturer on philosophy and modem science, is Professor of Natural Philosophy at the Dominican House of Studies, St. Stephen's Priory, Dover, Massachusetts. 307 BOOK REVIEWS Faith in tke Synoptic Gospels: A problem in tke correlation of Scripture and Theology. By EnwARD D. O'CoNNOR, C. S.C. Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1961. Pp. xx, 164, with index. It is well-known that there is a real divergence between the Protestant notion of faith and the traditional Catholic notion. Protestant and Catholic biblical scholars (especially biblical theologians) have found areas of agreement in their interpretations of the Word of God and have become more sympathetic to each other's position. But it is not likely that, using only the scientific instruments they have in common, they will ever succeed in eliminating the divergence. For the Protestant scholar, besides his scientific tools, has his own personal faith in the Word of God, or the faith that he shares by agreement with the believing community to which he belongs. An intrinsic principle in the scientific approach of the Catholic scholar is the age-long infallible teaching of the community to which he belongs. Much (should we say, all) of this teaching, while in direct line with the biblical revelation, is expressed in formulas that have been freed from the very peculiarities of thought and expression which are the concern of the biblical theologian, formulas that have been prepared by the work of speculative theologians, although they are now clothed with the infallibility of the Church's judgment. In doing their work, the speculative theologians have employed what are commonly referred to " as the greek modes of thought." Since the approach to reality of the " semitic " mind and the " greek " mind is considerably different, it is not surprising that there is a growing tension between the biblical and the speculative theologians, especially since the Fathers of the Church and the scholastic theologians elevated the " greek modes of thought " into powerful instruments for the development of biblical thought. It should be pointed out here that there is a tension within the biblical theologian himself. For it is undoubtedly true that the universalizing of the biblical revelation began with the revelation itself under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, taking advantage of the contact with the Hellenic mind even before the coming of Christ. This is a constant embarrassment to Scripture scholars. It is the tension between biblical and speculative theologians that has dictated the form of the study by Fr. O'Connor. In defense of the speculative theologian, he states: " ... it is his goal to abstract from all that is contingent in the scriptural presentation, and to seek to grasp the divine 308 BOOK REVIEWS 309 realities as tkey are in themselves (insofar as this is possible) .•. it involves a transmutation of ideas and doctrine to a new intellectual level.... " {p. xiii) • True enough; but is this the term of the speculative theologian's task? And is the tension between the speculative theologian on the one hand and the biblical theologian, the patristic theologian, the missionary, the artist, the poet, and others on the other hand, not due in great part to a failure of the speculative theologians? Paul Tillich has finely indicated the two basic tasks of Christian theology: " a theological system is supposed to satisfy two basic needs: the statement of the Christian message and the interpretation of this truth for every new generation " (Systematic Theology 'I, p. 3, The University of Chicago Press, 1951). If the second task were taken seriously by speculative theologians, at the present moment a substantial number of them, -with a host of scholars from many disciplines, would be devoting full time to a profound and sympathetic study of the currents of secular thought in the western world, of Protestantism, Communism, Orthodoxy, lslamism, Buddhism and Hinduism. It may seem absurd to turn from this global vision to the simple book under review. Yet its author has taken a step in the right direction. Catholic speculative theology can never accomplish its task unless it is vitally rooted in Sacred Scripture and the Fathers of the Church. The speculative theologian should be grateful to his colleagues for their thrilling restoration of biblical revelation to its own setting and of the rich witness of the Fathers to the consciousness of the Catholic community today. Fr. O'Connor had hoped to make a comparative study of the biblical and Thomistic notions of faith, but when he could find no complete treatment of the biblical notion, he decided on the present study. As the title indicates, he has severely limited its scope, confining himself to the Synoptic Gospels and to the passages in them where some form of the word " faith " appears. He does devote a few pages to the Old Testament notion of faith (with the promise of a longer study); and throughout the work he makes good use of light thrown on the New Testament use of words connected with " faith " and the Septuagint translation of Hebrew terms for the same concept. The author gives convincing reasons for limiting his investigations to the Synoptic Gospels. "The first is that, of all theN. T. documents, they pose most acutely the objections raised by Protestants against the scholastic conception of faith." And, secondly, "the Synoptics have largely been neglected . . . since the Synoptic teaching is meager in comparison with that of St. John or St. Paul. Nevertheless ... it constitutes a transitional stage between the 0. T. notion and that of theN. T. in its fullest development " (p. xvii) . These words make it clear that this is an essay in biblical theology and not a biblical theology of the notion of faith. It 810 BOOK REVIEWS almost clamors for the complementary studies of the Old Testament and the rest of the New Testament. Perhaps a note of caution could be inserted here. Fr. O'Connor seems ready to settle for an Old Testament notion of faith that is predominantly trust and confidence. He says: " Belief played an inconspicuous role in the religious·life of the Israelite " (p. 103. Vd. also p. 23) . Several years ago, Dr. Louis Finklestein contributed an article to the Maritain Volume of The Thomist (V Jan. 1943) entitled: " The Role of Dogma in Judaism." Recently, Fr. Carroll Stuhlmueller, C. P. has been publishing work on the interrelation of the liturgy and latter works of the Old Testament that seems to me to indicate quite clearly that it was their belief that dominated the lives of the chosen people. Their trust and confidence in God has its ups and downs, but their belief grew steadily more and more enlightened. It might be that this minimizing of ·belief is due in part to the methodological choice of confining this· study ohly to passages in which the word " faith " in its many forms appears. Can the biblical notion of " faith " be completely attained without a careful analysis of the revelatory situation? This particular difficulty is brought into focus by the very lengthy discussion of whether the Synoptics " relate faith to Christ as belief of what He taught" or" rather as belief about Him" (p. 89). While Fr. O'Connor has no difficulty in showing that actually the Synoptics most frequently speak in terms of belief in Christ, he seems determined to minimize unnecessarily the acceptance of Christ as a teacher. He cites Peter's confession: "Thou art the Christ" (Lk. 9:20) as a typical example. Yet we have the witness of John to a prior confession: "Lord, to whom shall we go, thou hast the words of eternal life and we have come to believe and to know that thou art the Christ, the Son of God" (John 6:69-70). It is true, as the author maintains, that Christ teaches little about Himself in the Synoptics. His whole concern is with the Father. But this is to overlook the extremely subtle pedagogical work of Christ in gradually revealing a unique relation of the Father to Himself. The question might not seem to be of major importance, except that the author offers a theoretical justification of it which is, to say the least, startling: In Appendix III, Fr. O'Connor offers an interpretation of the Vatican Council's definition of faith (D. 1789) : "Divine revelation is normally made to man by means of a twofold activity: an exterior proclamation of the word of God, and an interior illumination which enables the word to be recognized as coming from God. The preacher or minister of the word serves only to propose it to the potential believer; it is the divine light, communicated interiorly, that moves the latter to assent ..... Of these two elements which go to make up the locutio divina or teatimonium Dei to which ·faith assents, it is the interior light which is principal, and which specifies faith as divine. For the external I?roposal, God can use creatures BOOK REVIEWS 311 as ministers, and He can replace one with another without affecting the quality or nature of the believer's faith; ... " (p. 124-5). Now does not this explanation omit the crucial point? What is the word of God? What is its constitution, its permanent status? Is the subjective faith the only intrinsically divine factor in the revelatory situation? The definition of faith given by the Council is controlled by a more fundamental statement: " Furthermore, the perpetual universal belief of the Catholic Church has held and now holds that there are two orders of knowledge, distinct not only in origin but also in object. They are distinct in origin, because in one we know by means of natural reason; in the other, by means of divine faith. And they are distinct in object, bei:!ause in addition to what natural reason can attain, we have proposed to us as objects of belief mysteries that are hidden in God and which, unless divinely revealed, can never be known" (D. 1795}. It is the intrinsically supernatural character of the word of God that requires the movement of supernatural faith. True, the mode of proclamation is accidental, yet there must be (ordinarily) proclamation. The teaching situation is an integral element of revelation to us. That I believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, it must be revealed to me, not only by a hidden movement of faith (which is only analogously called revelation} but by an objective presentation of this truth as God's word. St. Paul doesn't seem to have had any difficulty in reconciling the two attitudes of faith: " Faith then depends on hearing, and hearing on the word of Christ " (Rom. 10: 17} . JAMES M. EGAN, O.P. St. Mary's College Notre Dame, Ind. Ca1J,8ality. The Place of the Causal Principle in Modem Science.. By MAm:o BuNGE. Cambridge (Massachusetts), Harvard University Press, 1959. Pp. xx + 380, with bibliography and index. $7:50. This work is a paradigm of scholarly research, crammed with references to everything that has ever been written on the subject of causality, together with suggestive. insights as to how to relate all of this material to the problems of modem science. It is a provocative and challenging' work for the Thomist, of which much will have been written before its full import for the revival of interest in a realistic philosophy of science will be exhausted. Bunge identifies himself generally with" scientific philosophy," but states that he is expressly affiliated with " no orthodoxy " (p. vi) . His main interest is the problem of determinism, to which he believes " no single 812 BOOK REVIEWS philosophic school has ever afforded a satisfactory provisional solution," although he is willing to argue " that we owe no single contemporary philosopher an analysis and systematization of the categories of determination comparable to Aristotle's '' (p. vii) . The main thesis of his book is his final conclusion: " The causal principle is neither a panacea nor a myth" but is "subsumed under the universal principle of determinacy." (p. 353) • To show this, he divides his presentation into four parts, the first dealing with the meaning of his terms, the second with a statement of what causal determinism does not assert, the third with what it does assert, and the fourth with his interpretation of the function of the causal principle in science. In the first part, where Bunge defines his terms and thereby specifies the nature of causality, it is clear that he is diametrically opposed to the Humean doctrine on causality and is unimpressed by the Kantian approach to this subject. He does not feel that modem quantum theory eliminates causality and cleverly observes that so-called " quantum indeterminacy is a consequence of the idealistic hypothesis inherent in modem positivism " (p. 16). Perhaps unfortunately, he limits his usage of· the terms 'cause' and ' causation ' to efficient causality at the very outset: "As has been usual since the beginnings of modem science, we shall hereafter restrict the meaning of the term ' cause ' to efficient cause, or extrinsic motive agent, or external influence producing change . . .'' (p. SS) , a restriction that greatly influences his final conclusion. This becomes strikingly apparent when we read his definition of determinism, under which he eventually subsumes causality as a special case: " Determinism in the large sense is that ontological theory whose necessary and sufficient components are the genetic principle, or principle of productivity, according to which nothing can arise out of nothing or pass into nothing; and the principle of lawfulness, stating that nothing happens in an unconditional and altogether irregular way.... Everything is determined in accordance with laws by something else, this something else being the external as well as the internal conditions of the object in question" (pp. 25-26). With such definitions, it is not surprising to the Thomist that he concludes that causation can only be one of several categories of determination. The negative statement of the meaning of causal determinism, which is the burden of the second part, is a well-reasoned polemic against the empiricist and romanticist critiques of causality. He cites with approval the Thomistic analysis of causality, and actually employs Aquinas' notion of suppositional necessity to refute fatalistic determinism: "Statements of causal laws and, in general, scientific laws, do not assert that something will inevitably happen under all circumstances, regardless of past or present conditions; quite on the contrary, statements of causal laws assert that if, and only if, certain conditions are met, certain results will follow " {p. lOS) • BOOK REVIEWS 313 His sympathy for the realistic approach to efficient causality is further apparent when he remarks " the undeserved oblivion into which scholastic philosophies (which are causal but not mechanistic) have fallen ... " (p. 107). . It is while attempting to clarify exactly what is involved in causal determinism, the work of Part III, that Bunge parts company with some basic peripatetic notions. The author takes his illustrations almost exclusively from contemporary science, and, while this procedure is extremely interesting from the viewpoint of the philosophy of science, it leads Bunge to a rejection of such axioms as " omne quod movetur ab alio movetur " (p. 175), "causa cessante cessat efjectus" (p. 190), and " quidquid est in efjectu debet esse prius aliquo modo in causa " (p. . Bunge reserves his own special interpretation of the place of. the causal principle in modern science for the fourth part of the work. He admits that this is a " philosophical principle," but his general thesis is that " philosophy neither towers above science nor stands at its basis, but is instead part of the very stuff of scientific research " (p. . He disagrees both with the positivists and with the antipositivists. On the subject of scientific explanation, he defends a thesis that is " neither the traditional nor the positivistic one, but a third position, namely, that answers to why-questions need not be causal in order to be scientific, although causal explanation does constitute an important ingredient of scientific explanation in many cases " (p. . Some of the non-causal explanations that he recognizes are clearly ones that the Thomist would classify as explanations through formal, material or final causality, but once again we should recall that Bunge uses the term cause exclusively in the place of causa efficiens. He rejects the logical-empiricist analysis of causal explanation and denies that prediction is of the essence of causality, or even of scientific investigation. He is not disturbed that the word " cause " does not figure prominently in the scientist's vocabulary: this is a "a generic concept" that "need not occur explicitly in any particular scientific statement " (p. 845) . This again hints at Bunge's unexpected affinity with Aristotelian thought, which is somewhat confirmed when he urges, as his final conclusion, that perfect science may still be regarded as ' knowledge through causes,' although with the added reservation that such knowledge will ever remain provisional '' this peripatetic norm may still be regarded as the paradigm of science,-but, paradoxically enough, with the following essential qualifications: the link between causes and effects need not always be causal (that is, unique, unsymmetrical, constant, external); (b) nothing warrants the presumption that we shall ever attain more than a hypothetical (but improvable) knowledge of causes, and their links (whether casual or not) " (p. In all, Causality is a highly interesting book from the point of view of 814 BOOK REVIEWS the Thomist specializing in the philosophy of science. Bunge clearly manifests no prejudice against Aristotelian or Thomistic thought, and he gives evidence of understanding that thought remarkably well, considering that he is primarily a theoretical physicist. H some of his statements about St. Thomas defy benign interpretation, in general his references are scholarly, intelligent, and to the point. Moreover, by raising some difficulties about agent-patient relationships and the effi.ciency involved in • self-sustaining ' processes to which there are no ready answers available in Thomistic manuals, he offers the material for serious studies in these areas. WILLIAM A. W.A.LLA.CE, 0. P. Dominican HOU8e of Philosophy, Dover, Matis. BRIEF NOTICES Themes of the Bible. By JACQUES GuiLLET, S. J. Translated by Albert J. LaMothe Jr. Notre Dame, Ind.: Fides Publishers Association, 1960. Pp. 279, $6.95. First published in 1951, Fr. Guillet's semantic history of key themes from first appearance to full blossom in the New Testament was received well by Biblical theologians. The translation is adequate. However, transliteration of Hebrew words follows French rather than English phonetics, 'e. g., ,mickpat, p. -47 and passim, instead of miskpat. Too, direct translation of Guillet's French Biblical texts in toto would have been preferable to the use of English versions in: such a semantic work. The author's -interpretations are, at times, quite personal, yet he shows close acquaintance with the other attempts at Biblical Theology. He does not pretend to present an exhaustive treatment of Biblical Theology, but his selection of themes is a happy one. The step by step development of such concepts as .grace, justice, loving-kindness and truth; sin and death; the devil and damnation; the breath or spirit of Yahweh affords the diligent student at least a basic grasp of the divine evolution of these important themes. Along with many other Biblical scholars, Fr. Guillet overstates the case for the Hebrew· pre-logical, non-conceptual, concrete rather than abstract use of words and ideas. Such betrays his and their misunderstanding of what he would call an abstract, and, therefore, lifeless, use of universals. Actually, his method shows that he is trying to introduce some type of universal predication into a systemization of matter-based concepts. He, therefore, is continually using the process of abstraction proper to the human intellect. If the process of abstraction is essentially a lifeless or a lethal thing, then, so is intellection, be it Hebrew and poetic, or Western and scientific. Unless Biblical theologians discover that there are many modalities to human abstraction, they will continue to ride their chargers against the wind-mill of " deadly essentialism." Whatever be the reasons for it, the price of the book is rather high. Perhaps a paperback edition would be more practicable for those who are interested in or have need of the matters of Biblical Theology. J. E. FALLoN, O.P. Dominican, HO'U8e uf Studies, Was/Wngtoo, D.C. 815 316 BRIEF NOTICES Cosmologia. By RoBERT M.As1. Rome: Desclee & Cie., 1961. Pp. 582. This manual developed from the lectures of the author in the Lateran University and at the Propaganda. In the work of revising and preparing his material for publication, the author was assisted by Henry Nicoletti of the Lateran. It is intended for university students, but it has been composed in a manner that makes it adaptable for seminaries; certain historical parts and particular questions can be omitted at the discretion of the teacher. The objective is to present the natural philosophy of Aristotle and St. Thomas, brought up to date in accord with modem developments of philosophy and science. The scholastic method is followed, but with refreshing modem features. There is an adequate historical introduction to the various topics, opinions about each question are often expressed in the very words of their originators, and the author's own conclusions emerge naturally and logically. These conclusions are stated as summary theses at the end of each topic, rather than as propositions laid down at the beginning. Thus the impression of invention, rather than of dogmatism, is given. One of the valuable features of the book is the generous bibliographies given after each chapter; these are placed in chronological order, so that at a glance the reader can find the most recent treatments of a topic. After a short survey of Aristotelian physical method and of the rise of the new physics with Galileo, Boyle, Newton and Huygens, the author claims that the unified Aristotelian physics has been divided into two distinct sciences because of the new experimental method, which creates a new formal object (pp. 12, 13). Natural philosophy is said to consider the ultimate causes of the corporeal world (" causas scilicet metaphysicas ") and the intelligibility of corporeal being, whereas science considers the proximate and experimental causes. The object of science is " corpus prout est ens experimentabile." (p. 13) , that is, body with measurable properties. Not all will agree with this position that Aristotle's physics has been divided into two distinct sciences. Modern sciences fit into the category of middle sciences known to the ancients, formally mathematical and materially physical. It is a further question whether the findings of mathematicized sciences can and should be given strictly physical explanations. These explanations would be at the same level of knowledge as the philosophy of nature, where Aristotle and St. Thomas put them. For philosophy of nature belongs at the first degree of abstraction. It is dependent on sensory experience and induction, and defines its concepts with matter and motion. However, since it is at a general and vague level, its observations are so evident that we tend to overlook the fact that the science is truly founded on sensory experience. It is natural motion as sensibly experienced and intellectually interpreted that is the source of intelligibility of material 317 BRIEF NOTICES beings. The formal object of the science is not material being as being, but as mobile. There are close mutual relations between philosophy and science, and the author's recognition of this accounts for some quite valuable parts of his text where he treats philosophically of atomic theory, mass and energy, relativity, quantum mechanics, non-Euclidian geometry, and other pertinent topics. An eight page index of proper names shows many references to the great names in science. The exposition of philosophical theses is always clear and of adequate length. It is regrettable that there is no treatment of alteration and the process of substantial generation. Nonetheless; there is a wealth of useful material in the book and a translation into English would be of considerable value to philosophy in our country. . MELVIN A. GLUTZ, 0. P. Paasionist House of Philosophy, Chicago, Illinois Philosophy of Nature. FRANCIS J. CoLLINGWOOD. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1961. Pp. viii + 306 with index. $4.50. This is not a text book; it lacks the didactic stringency of argumentation and the strictly logical form, but this in no way takes away from the intrinsic value of the book. Francis Collingwood has given us what we so badly needed: a simple, very readable and living presentation of natural philosophy as seen in its historical inception and evolution and in its vigorous encounter with problems of both primitive perception and scientific theorization. Here is a book ideal for background reading. Its clear and unaffected style makes for swift and effortless reading. It is geared to the undergraduate student or to the completely uninitiated layman. It is a penetrating work for all its simplicity and the reward for a few hours of pleasurable reading is an insight into the spirit, methodology and objective content of the philosophy of nature. Chapters 10 and 11 are especially worthy of mention. The first, entitled " Practical and Experimental Science," presents a coherent review of the exact nature of instruments, hypothetical reasoning as well as the role of mathematics, with reservations, as a true instrument of interpretation. The final chapter offers what its title infers: " Conclusions." The author underlines the importance of unshakable principles as the cornerstone of all science, compares common sense and scientific knowledge, stressing their complimentarity and continuity and then reviews the opposition and corelation of the platonic and aristotelian explanations of reality. Following 818 BRIEF NOTICES a scathing criticism of Positivism he concludes with a meaningful warning not to lose sight of the distinction between the symbolic and the real. These last are I think the highlights of his book. Positivism he describes as essentially negative, in that it negates the necessary prerequisites for any real science: objective causal connection and formal abstraction. His reflections on the need to avoid confusing symbols and reality, since symbols are and must always remain " mental artifacts," put into bold relief the aristotelian exigency for concrete reality as the touchstone for truth. On the next to the last page, the author states how the synthesis of the mental concept and the existent is achieved in the judgment without any further elucidation of this important point. This incompleteness, along with several other instances of insufficient data (for example, bringing the explanation of gravity and inertia no further than Newtonian physics and the failure to do more than simply equate mass with " quantity of matter ") left this reviewer unsatisfied and wondering. However, there is mention made of a second volume which promises a more complete coverage of the epistemological and methodological principles of the philqsophy of science and a more detailed explanation and evaluation of the mathematical instruments and extra-sensible realm of contemporary science. If this forthcoming volume is written with the same simplicity, precision and consistency as this present one, we look forward to it impatiently. THoMAS D. FEEHAN, M.S. La Salette Seminary, Ipswich, Massachusetts The Philosophy of Physics. Edited by Vincent Edward Smith. St. John's University Press, 1961. Pp. 82 with Index. The Nature of Physical Knowledge. Edited by L. W. Friedrich, S.J. Milwaukee: University Press, 1960. Pp. 152 with Index. Lecture series and symposia on the philosophy of science-for the past decade a favorite bloom at secular universities-have been transplanted, as these slender volumes attest, to the campus of Catholic Universities. Considerable success has attended the task for, while in common with symposia from Plato's time onward, these papers raise more problems than they solve, they exhibit distinct signs of intellectual life. The lectures at St. John's University face up to familiar but important issues: Rev. Benedict Ashley, 0. P. and Charles DeKoninck controvert, each in his particular way, the idealistic and positivistic conceptions of physical knowledge; the paper of Yves Simon explains Maritain's position on the relation of philosophy to physics. The lecture by Karl Herzfeld BRIEF NOTICES 819 illustrates that previous authors are not attacking dead issues: it validates Scholastic " potentiality " by mathematical probability functions and apparently favors the Bohr complementarity principle to explain the mindbody problem. Scientists at the Marquette Symposium evidence less restraint: Bridgman asserts that all knowledge, even that subject to " operational verification," remains uncertain; Margenau concludes that inductive knowledge only affords probability, that deductive knowledge (which he symbolizes as S >T • T >S) always entails the fallacy of consequent. Two subsequent papers contest these authors: Raymond Seeger underlines several weaknesses in Bridgman and Margenau; Adolph Grunbaum makes several observations relative to these authors, but effectively criticizes, by means of the Hempel-Oppenheim paradigm, the more basic thesis of Duhem that a vast theoretic network can always be adjusted to preserve a favored thesis in the face of observational evidence that contradicts it. Frank Collingwood, in a fine paper, justifies the limitations which axiomatic mathematics enrelate only tangently counters at the physicist's hand. Two other to the general problem: Alfred Lande attacks the Copenhagen (indeed, every dualistic) interpretation of quantum mechm;tics; Rev. George Klubertanz, S. J. relates physical knowledge to the moral sphere. In brief, if symposia reports are to be assessed not by their unity of viewpoint but by the vigor of the papers presented, the proceedings which these books record qualify as successful. THoMAs CuNNINGHAM, O.P. University of Wisconsin Madison, Wisconsin BOOKS RECEIVED Adler, Mortimer, The Idea of Freedom. New York: Doubleday, 1962. Vol. I, pp. 689 with index. $7.50; Vol. IT, pp. 754 with index, $7.50. Armas, 0. R. S. A., G. La Morel de San AugUIJtin. Madrid: Difusera del Lisbre, 1962. Pp. ll81. $6.00. Ballard, E. G. Studies in Whitehead's Philosophy. New Orleans: Tulane University, 1961. Pp. ll3. Barth, Karl & others. Christianity Divided. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 335. $6.00. Berti, 0. S.M. C. & others. De Ratione Pondera:ndi,Documenta Magiaterii Ecclesiastici. Roma: Edizioni "Marianum," 1961. Pp. 48. Binkley, L. U. Contemporary Ethical Theories. New York: Philosophical Library, 1961. Pp. 203 with index. $4.75. Bosworth, Wm. Catholicism & Crisis in Modern France. Princeton: Princeton University, 1962. Pp. 407 with index. $8.50. Bouyer, L. Introduction to Spirituality. New York: Desclee Co., 1961. Pp. 321 with index. $5.75. --. The Seat of Wisdom. New York: Pantheon Books Inc., 1962. Pp. 212 with index. $4.59. Bredvold, L. & others. The Philosophy of Edmund Burke. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1961. Pp. 276 with index. $5.95. Brennan, B. P. The Ethics of Wm. James. New York: Bookman Associates, 1961. Pp. 183 with index. $4.00. Brillet, C. Or. G. Meditations on the Old Testament. New York: Desclee Co. Inc., 1961. Pp. 249. $3.75. --. The New Bible. New York: Oxford University Press & Cambridge University Press, 1961. Pp. 447. $1.45. Carol, O.F.M., J. (Ed.) Mariology. Vol. III Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Co., 1961. Pp. 456, with index. $9.50. Calvez., S. J., J. Y. & Perrin, S. J., J. The Church and Social ]Ulltice. Chicago: H. Regnery Co., 1961. Pp. 466 with index. $7.50. Danielou, J. ·Christ and Us. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 236. $3.95. Dansette, A. ReligioUIJ History of Modern France. Vol. I & IT. New York: Herder & Herder, 1961. Pp. 467, 362, with index. $16.50. D'Arcy, E. Conscience and Its Right to Freedom. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1962. Pp. 277. $3.50. Davis, H. Worship & Theology in England. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1962. Pp. 390 with index. $7.50. BOOKS RECEIVED Day, C. B. The Philosophers of China. New York: Philosophical Library, Inc., 1962. Pp. 426 with index. $6.00. De Fraine, S. J., J. The Bible and The Origin of Man. New York: Desclee Co., Inc., 1961. Pp. 88. $2.50. De Gennare, A. A. The Philosophy of Benedetto Croce. New York: Philosophical Library, 1961. Pp. 108 with index. $8.00. De Menasce, G. C . .The Dynamics of Morality. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 858 with index. $6.00. Desan, W. The Planetary Man. Washington, D. C.: Georgetown University Press, 1961. Pp. 182. $2.00. Ehr, S. V. D., D. J. The Purpose of The Creator and Of Creatures. Techny, Ill. 1961. Pp. 158, with index. Ewing, U. C. The Essene Christ. New York: Philosophical Library Inc., 1961. Pp. 488 with index. $5.75. Flew, A. Hume's Philosophy of Belief. New York: Humanities Press, 1961. Pp. 286 with index. $6.00. Giblet, J. (ed.). The God of Israel and The God of Christians. New York: Desclee Co., Inc., 1961. Pp. 261. $8.95. Gilson E. & Pegis, A. St. Thomas Aquinas & Philosophy. West Hartford, Connecticut: St. Joseph College, 1961. Pp. 29. $1.00. Gleason, S. J., R. W. Grace. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 240. $8.95. Grant, R. M. Gnosticism. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1961. Pp. 254 with index. $5.00. Gregory of Nyssa, St. From Glory to Glory. New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1961. Pp. 298. $4.95. Hillmann, Sister M. V. The Pearl. The College of St .. Elizabeth Press: Distributed by University Publishers, Inc., New York. 1961. Pp. 175 with index. $5.00. James, E. 0. Comparative Religion. New York: Barnes & Noble, 1961. Pp. 884 with index. $1.95. John XXIII. Mater at Magistra. New York: Paulist Press, 1961. Pp. 96. $.25. Kung, H. The Council, Reform and Reunion. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 208 with index. $8.95. LaFont, 0. S. B., G. Structures, Methode dans La Somme Theologique deS. Thomas d'Aquin. Desclee de Brouwer, 1961. Pp. 512 with index. Laver, R. The Mind of Voltaire. Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1961. Pp. 155 with index. $8.50. Lewis, S. J., J. Le Gouvernment Spirituel. Bruges: Desclee de Brouwer, 1961. Pp. 188. 75 Fr. B. Lynch, S.J., W. F. The Integrating Mind. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 181. $8.95. BOOKS RECEIVED MacManus, F. St. Columban. New York: Sheed & Ward, Pp. 240. $8.95. McGlynn, S. J., J. V. & Toner, S. J., J. J. Modern Etkical Theories. Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Co., 1961. Pp. 167 with index. McManus, S. S. J., E. P. Studies in Race Relations. Baltimore: The Josephite Press, 1961. Pp. 168 with index. Moriee, H. The Apostolate of Moral Beauty. St. Louis: B. Herder Co., 1962. Pp. $2.95. Newman, J. H. On Consulting the Faithful. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 118. $tJ.OO. Oesterreicher, J. M. (Ed.). The New York: Pantheon BookS Inc., 1962. Pp. 883. $4.50. O'Brien, J. A. The Catholic Way of Life. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: PrenticeHall, 1962. Pp. 211 with index. $2.95. O'Meara, J. Charter of Christendom. New York: Macmillan Co., 1961. Pp. 120. $2.50. Pegis, A. C. The Macauley Lectures. West Hartford, Connecticut: St. Joseph College, 1961. Pp. 886 with index. $4.85. Pezeril, D. Blessed and Poor. New York: Pantheon Book Inc., 1961. Pp. 255. $4.00. Piolant, A. The Holy Eucharist. New York: Desclee Co., Inc., 1961. Pp. 154 with index. $2.50. --. Proceedings of the XV Annual Convention, The Catholic Theological Society of America. Pp. with index. 1961. Pruche, 0. P., B. Histoire de l'Homme Mysterr de Dieu. Desclee de Brouwer, 1961. Pp. 451. Ramirez, 0. R., S. La Esencia de la Esperanza Cristina. Madrid: Ediciones Punta Europe, 1961. Pp. 852 with index. Runes, D. The Art of Thinking. New York: Philosophical Library, 1961. Pp. 90. $2.75. Ryan, I. E. The Notion of Good in Books Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta of the Metaphysics of Aristotle. Copenhagen: E. Munksgaard, 1961. Pp. 57. 14 D. Kr. Ryan, J. K. (Ed.). Studies in Philosophy and the History of Philosophy. Washington, D. C.: Catholic University Press, 1961. Pp. 221 with index. $5.00. Sabourin, S. J., L. Redemption Sacrificielle. Bruges: Desclee de Brouwer, 1961. Pp. 487, with index. !i!80 Fr. B. Schmaus, M. The Essence of Christianity. Chicago: Scepter Press, 1961. Pp. with index. $8.95. Schoeck, H. & Wiggins, J. Relativism and The Study of Man. New York: Van Nostrand, 1961. Pp. 259 with index. $6.50. Scholz, H. Concise History of Logic. New York: Philosophical Library, 1961. Pp. 140 with index. $8.75. BOOKS RECEIVED Schonfield, H. J. A History of Biblical Literature. New York: New American Library, 1962. Pp. 223 with index. Singer, M. G. & Ammerman, R. Introductory Readings in Philosophy, New York: Chas. Scribner's Sons, 1962. Pp. 89S with index. $8.25. Stace, W. T. Tke Concept of Morals. New York: Macmillan Co., 1962. Pp. 807 with index. $1.75. Stein, E. Die Frau. Louvain: Editions Nauwelaerts, 1961. Pp. 226. 150 Fr. B. Sticco, M. Tke Peace of St. Francia. New York: Hawthorn Books, 1961. Pp. 288. $5.95. Swabey, W. C. Ethical Theory From Hobbes to Kant. New York: PhilosophicOl Library, 1961. Pp. 2S4 with index. $4.75. Tauler, 0. P., J. Spiritual Conferences. St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1961. Pp. 2S8. $4.25. Thomas Aquinas, St. (J. F. Anderson, Trans.) Treatise on Man. Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, 1962. Pp. 17S. $2.75. Toulmin, S. & others. Seventeenth Century Science .and tke Arts. Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1961. Pp. 187. $8.00. Van Melsen, A. S. Science and Technology. Pittsburgh: Dusquene University Press, 1962. Pp. 878 with index. $6.95. Weigel, S.J., G. & Madden, A. G. Knowledge; Its Values and Limits. Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, 1961. Pp. liS with index. $8.75. --. Religion and the Knowledge of God. Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, 1961. Pp. liS with index. $8.75. Wilhelmsen, F. D. Tke Metaphysics of Love. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1962. Pp. 159. $8.50. Wilkin, S.J., V. From Limbo to Heaven. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1961. Pp. 145. $8.00. . Wittgenstein, L. (D. B. Pears & B. F. McGuinness, Trans.} Tractatus Logico-Pkilosopkicus. New York: Humanities Press, 1961. Pp. 166 with index. $4.50. Wolfson, H. A. Religious Philosophy. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1961. Pp. 17S with index. $6.00.