THE THOMIST A SPECULATIVE QUARTERLY REVIEW OF THEOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY EDITORs: THE DoMINICAN FATHERS oF THE PROVINCE oF ST. JosEPH Publishers: The Thomist Press, Washington, D. C. 20017 VoL. XXXVIII OCTOBER, 1974 No.4 PARIS AS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF THOMAS AQUINAS'S THOUGHT Introduction "A Citadel of Light ... " I am in Paris, in that royal city where abundance of natural wealth not only holds those who live there, but also attracts those from afar. Just as the moon outshines the stars in brilliance, so does this city, the seat of the monarchy, lift her proud head above the rest .... Two suburbs extend to right and left, of which the lesser alone rivals many cities. Each of these suburbia communicates with the island by two bridges of stone; the Grand Pont towards the north, on the side of the English Channel, and the Petit Pont towards the Loire. The first-great, rich, trading, is the scene of seething activity; innumerable ships surround it, filled with merchandise and riches. The Petit Pont belongs to the dialecticians, who walk there deep in argument. In the island, by the side of the King's palace that dominates the whole city, is seen the palace of philosophy, where study reigns as sole sovereign in a citadel of light and immortality .1 1 Quoted in Joan Evans, Life in Medieval France (New York, 1969), pp. 14 f. 689 690 THOMAS F. O'MEARA So writes Gui de Bazoches, shortly before the beginning of that century which would hold the brief life of Thomas Aquinas. It was to Paris that Aquinas would come as student and to which he would return as a young teacher or as theologian back from the papal court. It was to Paris that the discovered manuscripts of Aristotle and the Arabs flowed; it was in Paris that innovative artistic ideas and movements flourished. This cultural world would make upon Aquinas, the twenty-year-old student, and be in turn impressed by the magister in his thirties and forties. That scholasticism is one result of a wider, gothic, medieval culture is obvious; it takes no genius to see that there are Summae in stone as well as in parchment. 2 Yet, explanations of the precise relationships between cultural media with attention to detail are very few.8 Studies of the aesthetics of Thomas Aquinas are readily available/ but analyses of the work of Albert the Great called Paris " civitas philosophorum"; cf. M. Grabmann, Die Kulturphilosophie des Thomas von Aquinas (Augsburg, 19!'!7), p. 15. •" Gothic is a simple translation of scholastic philosophy into stone." G. Semper, Der Stil in den technischen und tektonischen Kunsten, cited in A. Hauser, The Social History of Art, I (New York, 1951), p. 280. 8 Chenu observes briefly: " It is, however, indispensable to do some essential reading on the economico-social conditions of the civilization of which Saint Thomas was to be one of the highlights. It is very Thomistic to observe, in the consubstantial union of its body and soul, in which manner human society acts and reacts from the standpoint of its spiritual comportment." Toward Understanding Saint Thomas (Chicago, 1964), p. 69. Harvey Cox's chronology is incorrect when he remarks: " Notre Dame had already been gathering moss for many years when Aquinas moved to Paris as a student." The Seduction of the Spirit (New York, 1973), pp. 265 f. But Cox is making an important point when he observes that popular culture must be studied as well as great chefs d'oeuvre, c. g., movies as well as modem art. The medieval cathedral appreciated popular religions with its representations of the demonic, astrology, the cycles of life and local saints; see W. Abell, "A Psycho-Historical Study of Medieval Western Culture and Its Background," The Collective Dream in Art (New York, 1957); M. Dvorak, Kunstgeschichte als Geistesgeschichte (Munich, 1942), pp. 48-147. In recent years in art history have begun to include material from the history of music, philosophy or from other aspects of intellectual history: W. Fleming, Art, Music and Ideas (New York, 1970); H. W. Janson, J. Kerman, A History of Art & Music (New York, 1968). • See M. Grabmann, "Thomas von Aquin und die Kunst," in Kulturphilosophie, ed. cit.; Jordan Aumann, De Pulchritudine (Valencia, 1951); E. de Bruynes, PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 691 a medieval theologian as a representation of the currents of his cultural epoch are rare. By culture we mean the atmosphere of thought-forms and of representational models congenial to a particular time and place in the history of civilization. Culture encompasses the products fashioned by civilization as they are concretized in literature, music, economics, politics, the fine arts, philosophy, and theology. The lack of effort towards relating theologians-whether it be Origen, Ambrose, or Aquinas-to their cultural milieu encourages serious lacunae in our appreciation of them. First o£ all, students of art history are hinder.ed in their understanding of the total milieu of the subject of their study. For instance, without an adequate appreciation o£ the influence of Aristotelian or Platonic theologies in France from 1100 to 1250 it is impossible to comprehend fully the " programs" of gothic cathedrals. Interdisciplinary approaches recommend themselves more and more, but this will mean that theology and philosophy become hermeneutics for painting, sculpture, and architecture. This wider context precises and grounds the historical motivation of artists and the purpose of their works. The second vagary corrected by cultural consciousness is the ahistorical understanding of a theologian such as Thomas Aquinas. The Thomistic revival o£ the past one hundred years (but also those of earlier centuries) took Aquinas out of history and culture and located him in an aevum o£ eternal metaphysics (philosophia perennis). No longer is philosophy science extending from psychology and politics to metaphysics; the ancilla theologiae is limited to logic and metaphysics. The dogmatic assertion by certain repr.esentatives of Thomism that Aquinas's thought is the universal approach to reality and grace escapes instant ridicule only when all cultural analysis has been removed. First, thought (and art, for they are cousins) is removed from that world which produced (and so limited in that very act) the mind of Aquinas. Next, to overlook culture is Etudes d'aesthetique medievale (Brugge, 1946), S vols; F. Kovach, Die Aesthetik Thomas von Aquin (Berlin, 1961). 692 THOMAS F. O'MEARA to ignore the different thoughtforms and movements which modify the horizons of the individual and collective personality. This type of discipleship to Aquinas (unworthy of him, since he was a cultural theologian par excellence) has declined. Scholars such as Grabmann and Chenu have presented the historical context of Aquinas; and the Catholic Church has cast off its fear of modern culture and announced that the movements and hopes of the world could be those of the Church. 5 Thirdly, the contact between different fields or media in which cultural movements of a time are incarnate has been viewed as purely horizontal and mutual: philosophers and poets talking to painters, composers, reading poets. What kind of direct contact existed between the magistri at the university and the magistri completing the Sainte-Chapelle in 1248? As important as it is to research such contact, exploring the over-arching cultural atmospher:e of the time is more significant. For there is a primal explosion from whose fall-out the forms of theology, philosophy, economics, and art proceed. 6 I Kairos Before we look at the cultural atmosphere in which Aquinas worked at Paris, l.et us pursue this theory of the cultural kairos. Paul Tillich is well known for his theologizing within the framework of culture. One can view Tillich's entire work, his preaching and ontology, his German and American periods, as cultural theology. Tillich's earliest writings attempted to relate German metaphysics (for instance, Schelling) to cultural manifesta5 After Grabmann sketches Aquinas's life amid the " cultural streams " of his age, he concludes: "So, Thomas stands in living empathy with the culture, with the scientific and social directions and movement of his time. His cultural philosophy is not a conceptual, aprioristic approach but one receiving its orientation from living reality, even if the speculative element dominates, and the contemporary relationships show themselves in more detail only to the initiate." Grabmann, Kulturphilosophie, p. £0. For a magisterial treatment of Aquinas's life and works, see J. A. Weisheipl, Friar Thomas d'Aquino (New York, 1974). • See T. F. O'Meara, "Art and Music as Dlustrators of Theology," Anglican Theological Review 55 (1978), £67 fl'. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 693 tions of the Holy. When Tillich finished his studies in philosophy and theology in the 199lO's he was immediately involved with politics: the development of a Christian socialism. 7 American Christians were still threatened by psychology and modern art twenty years ago. After his flight to the United States for politico-theological reasons Tillich's essays in these fields were pioneering pieces. Their basic insight was that other areas as well as religion are in touch with the depths of existence. Tillich employed the biblical word " kairos " to name the right time, the moment when culture and existence become transparent to their Power: the Ground of Being. The kairos is a moment pregnant, promising, dynamic, full of possibilities. The time for a cultural .explosion arises out of a blend of economic and political currents; new forms suddenly break through. The arts as well as religion participate in metaphysical shock and ecstatic insight. Each cultural epoch has a style; this is not merely a superficial way of behavior but a unity of forms and motifs which set it off from other times. Cultural events are channels through which the manifestations of being and the holy reach us. One may speak of a style of thinking, of research, of ethics, of law, of politics. And if one applies the term in this way, one often finds that analogies with respect to style can be discovered i:r.. all the cultural functions of a particular period, group or cultural orbit. This makes style a key to understanding the way in which a particular group or period encounters reality. 8 The deciphering of a style is an art in itself and, like every art, is a matter of daring and risk. Styles have been contrasted with each other in several respects. If one looks at the series of styles in the visual arts in Western history after the beginnings of a Christian art in catacombs and basilicas, one is overwhelmed by the richness and variety: the Byzantine, the Romanesque, the early and late Gothic styles precede the Renaissance ... Naturalism, Impressionism, Expressionism, Cubism, Surrealism . . . Each of them says something about the period in which they were flourishing. In each of them a self-interpretation of man is indicated, although in 7 Cf. J. L. Adams, Paul Tillich's Philosophy of Culture, Science and Religion (New York, 1965). 8 Systematic Theology, III (Chicago, 1968), p. 61. 694 THOMAS F. O'MEARA most cases the artists were not aware of such interpretation. Sometimes they knew what they expressed. And sometimesphilosophers and art critics made them aware of it." For Tillich the same would be true of theology. Theology and religion are not the Absolute, but concrete media through whose potentialities God contacts men in history. Tillich describes the Middle Ages as " a culture in which the ultimate meaning of existence shines through all finite forms of thought and action; the culture is transparent, and its creations are vessels of a spiritual content." 10 For us today the pressure of rapid cultural change and the perception in counter-cultures that the presence of grace is not limited to the churches and divinity schools have reintroduced views which for over a century were labeled as outlandishly Hegelian: for instance, our present decade as a time of cultural mutation; the historical diversity but global unity of movements; the formal similarity of what is happening now in different media and fields.11 • " Protestantism and the Contemporary Style in the VISual Arts," The Ohriatian ScholaT, 40 (1957), 808. "Religion and culture are not separate. While most of human life stops short of revelatory experiences, religion and culture lead to the depth-questions. Religion is the directedness of the apirit toward the unconditioned meaning; culture is directedness of the spirit toward conditioned forms." P. Tillich, What ia Religion? (New York, 1969), p. 7!!. 10 The PToteatant Em (Chicago, 1948), xvi. "Nothing that is created, and therefore, essentially good is excluded from the life of the churches and their members. This is the meaning of the principle of the complexio oppositomm, of which the Roman church is rightly proud. There is nothing in nature, nothing in man, and nothing in history which does not leave a place in the Spiritual Community • . • This is classically expressed in both the medieval cathedrals and the scholastic systems, in which all dimensions of being found their place, and even the demouic, the ugly, and the destmctive appeared in a subdued role." SyBtematic Theology, ill, p. 170. 11 Behind this view of a particular cultural period as both darkening and illuminating Being lie Hegel and Heidegger. See M. Heidegger, DeT UTsprung dea Kunstwerkea (Stuttgart, 1970). As contributing theoreticians on behalf of this approach to cultural history we could list: Jacob Burckhardt, W. Dilthey, C. G. Jung, Ernst Cassirer, C. Levi-Strauss, certain Geatalt psychologists, Susanne K. Langer, Thomas Kuhn. Alfred North Whitehead wrote in the introduction to a memorial volume for Arnold Schonberg: " In every period there is a general form of forms of thought." M. Armitage, ed., SchiinbB'I'g (New York, 1987). PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 695 Theology partakes in the cultural explosions of its time. There are moments when a society mov.es with confidence and genius into new models for describing God and man. Beneath literature, the fine arts, the psychology or liturgy of one cultural epoch li.e tremors. Their eruption influences structure, bestows form. As important as the content of any work of genius is, the formal point of organization, the nuances, the horizons within which the effort was conceived are more significant. By exploring the struggles and lasting successes of the artists living and working a dozen blocks away from Thomas Aquinas's priory on the Rue Saint Jacques we understand better both his work and theirs. II Paris in the Thirteenth Century The reign of Louis IX built upon the work of his grandfather Philip Augustus (1180-1223) and brought further peace and prosperity to the Ile-de-France: to Paris and to the French lands under Capetian sway. 12 Cooperation between a strong French monarchy and the papacy and England secured a measure of political stability. A sharp growth in population, improvement in agriculture, and teeming commerce brought prosperity to towns and to their burgeoning middle class; these in turn provided the .economic and social support for universities. Intellectual discoveries not only in metaphysics but in mathematics and medicine from the libraries of Islam and Constantinople reached a climax during the middle of the thirteenth century. Let us single out for brief consideration three aspects of this cultur:e which we can project as influences 12 See C. Liebman, "Art and Letters in the Reign of Philip II Augustus of France: The Political Backgiound," The YeaT 1200, II (New York, 1970), pp. 1 ff. " ... a common method of teaching and intellectual inquiry applicable to the liberal arts, medicine, law, and theology. This scholastic method was not only pertinent to the traditional academic disciplines but also was artistically expressed in Gothic monuments." J. Baldwin, "Preface," The Scholastic CultuTe of the Middle Ages 1100-1300 (Lexington, 1970). On the relationships between literature and scholasticism, G. Pare, "Vocabulaire scolaire et scolastique," Les Idees et les lettTes au Xllle siecle, le Roman de la Rose (Montreal, 1947). 696 THOMAS F. O'MEARA upon the work of Aquinas: (1) the a:ffiuence of the culture; (2) the unique cultural kairos on the Ile-de-Paris; (3) the drive towards the thought-form of the Summa: unity highlighting diversity. A. The Affluent Society It is possible to discern the cultural explosion of the High Middle Ages in various areas which would parallel theology, for instance, in science and technology. Just as we can trace in the works of Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas their acquaintance with new works, translations and commentaries from Greek and Arabic thought, so the works of architecture display in different script technological breakthroughs borrowed from Norman, Romanesque, and Arabic styles and inventions. In politics Aquinas must have had to juggle relationships: he was guest and celebrity to Louis IX; yet, master of the university of Paris, theologian of the papal court, and related to the imperial family. One of the signs of French economic expansion was the sudden increase of stone church buildings which sprang up everywhere. It strains our imagination to grasp the resources expanded in this construction program. In France between 1180 and 1270 a population of less than eighteen million produced eighty churches of cathedral size and six hundred abbeys. To focus on one local example in the thirteenth century, Chartres, a community of ten thousand citizens, in one generation rebuilt its cathedral in grandiose proportions. Henri Pirenne describes the expansion of monetary systems, the clearing of new land, the population explosion as factors influencing society and the university. 18 An urban, mercantile middle class flourishes, while peace and taxes cream off some of this prosperity to the nobility and especially to the royal presence in Paris. This same urban Medieval Cities (Princeton, 1952); see Lynn White, Medieval Technology and Social Change (Oxford, 1971); G. Beaujouan, "Medieval Science in the Christian West," in R. Taton, ed., Ancient and Medieval Science (New York, 1963), pp. 488 ff.; A. Scobeltzine, L'Art feodal et son enjeu social (Paris, 1973); Chenu, Toward ... , pp. 69 ff; Baldwin, op. cit., pp. 15 ff. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 697 middle class sends their sons to the universities. The earlier social fabric of monastic stability and of clerical beneficiaries for students is not adequate to this explosion of learning and money, and so the university must rent larger halls; fees are introduced. At the same time, the newly founded friars drawing their numbers (if not Thomas Aquinas) from the mercantile class or from the lesser nobility create a life-style which will blend academic proficiency with community life and urban apostolates. The mendicant friars, Franciscans and Dominicans, who were to come and settle (in the cities and universities), were merely a normal development arising from the new orientation which religious fervor took. That principle of poverty which they professed made them break with the demesnial organization heretofore the support of monastic life.... They asked no more of the burgher than their alms. In place of isolating themselves in the center of vast, silent enclosures, they built their convents along the streets. They took part in all the agitations, all the miseries as well, and understood all the aspirations of the artisans, whose spiritual directors they well deserved to become.14 The climax of this affiuence can be seen in Louis IX's SainteChapelle, a dazzling finale of rayonnant style where stainedglass walls rise upwards almo.st fifty feet and occupy in all 615 square meters of space.15 In a flurry of architectural and theological planning, and then through rapid construction, this enormous jewel-box was completed as a reliquary for Christ's crown of thorns by lfl48 after perhaps less than six years of labor. With this gothic multi-media event technology and the "Ibid., pp. 166 f; pp. 288 fl'.; see L. Genicot, Le XIIIe siecle europeen (Paris, 1968), pp. 10-19, 884-850; Chenu, "Monks, Canons, and Laymen in Search of the Apostolic Life," Nature, Man, and Society in. the Twelfth Century (Chicago, 1968), pp. 202 fl'. For the relationship of architectural advances to newly available scientific treatises see J. Harvey, The Master Builder (New York, 1978), p. 48. 10 M. Aubert et al., Lea Vitraux de Notre-Dame et de la Bainte-Ckapellede Paris, Corpus Vitrearum Medii Aevi, I (Paris, 1959), p. 74. Louis IX had next to the Sainte-Chapelle a library for university professors; M. Pelisle, Le Cabinet des manuscrites de la bibliotkeque nationale, I (Paris, 1868), pp. 6-10; cf. J. G. Bougerol, "Saint Bonaventure et le roi Saint Louis," B. Bonaventura, II (Grottaferrata, 1978), pp. 469-498. 698 THOMAS F. o'MEARA will for harmony reached a peak in sumptuous decoration. Aquinas, after three years of study at Paris, leaves in the sumwith Albertus Magnus for Cologne. The solemn mer of consecration of the Sainte-Chapelle took place shortly before, His career partakes in the aflluence of the April 26, time. Aquinas's Dominican brothers grew in numbers and influence. They controlled chairs, receiv.ed scholars' fees, built convents, searched out manuscripts, started groups of specialists in textual criticism and semitic languages. They received and educated hundreds of novices, undertaking missions to Constantinople, Mongolia, Algeria. Aquinas must divide his time, accompanied by secretaries and companions, between the university and the French Court, and the Papal Court at Viterbo or Orvieto. Albert the Great successfully writes a commentary on every work of Aristotle (and finds resources for numerous opuscula, scriptural commentaries and Summae). Aquinas before he is dead at forty-nine composes, usually dictating, an enormous number of works. After 1260 he secures the assistance for some years of William of Moerbeke, a firstrate translator, for Greek textual criticism into Aristotle's opera. As magister Aquinas had secretaries at his disposal, night and day, for dictation. "The master (Aquinas), assisted by the Holy Spirit, dictated at the same time, in his cell to three or sometimes four secretaries on different subjects." 17 A. Dondaine concludes without discussing the size of the financial outlay necessary: " The role of the secretaries of Saint Thomas was not only to provide the works then needed but they were present to write down Aquinas' works and to serve their publication." 18 Behind all of this was a time of aflluence, and in such a milieu the harmonious balance, the optimism of uniting nature and grace within the cathedral and in the viewpoint of Aquinas's Summa theologiae are well understood. 16 Ibid., p. 7!t. William of Tocco in Fontes Vitae Sancti Th. Aquinatis (Toulouse, 191!t), p. 89. See A. Dondaine, Lea Secretaires de S. Thomas (Rome, 1956), p. 205. On the financial outlay by the Friars Preachers for books see W. Hinnebusch, The History of the Dominican Order, II (New York, 1978), pp. 194 if. 11 18 PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' B. THOUGHT 699 Gothic and the Ile-de-France Gothic was originally a local style connected with the growing fortunes of the kings of France and internationalized through the prestige of France. The first Gothic is so remarkably identified with one limited territory, the Ile-de-France-more exactly, the domain of the Capetian monarchy-that the late Henri Focillon suggested wisely, if somewhat paradoxically, that Gothic be defined as the Romanesque of the Ile-de-France.... Created in the very heart of Capetian power, the Gothic advanced in the wake of its consolidation and expansion.18 A hundred years after the dedication of the Sug.er's gothic Abbey of S. Denis in 1144, most of Europe had" gone Gothic," with one, French climax occurring during Aquinas's youth. Explorations into the mutual similarities concretized in different media of cultur.e must be done within well-defined limits of time and space. With Paris during the middle of the thirteenth century we have such a limited cultural epoch.2° Even then detailed comparisons can be flimsy projections. Even so, pronouncements about Gothic drawing on English architecture, Florentine poetry, German painting, and scholasticism at Cologne are certainly of dubious value in comprehending an epoch, a kairos. In Thomas d' Aquino, an Italian nobleman's son and r.elative of the Holy Roman emperor, entered the Order of Otto von Simson, The Gothic Cathedral (New York, 196il), pp. 62 ff. Erwin Panofsky discusses the dangers of this approach while not rejecting every attempt: " ... a pursuit of 'parallels' the hazards of which are only too obvious. No man can master more than one fairly limited field; every man has to rely on incomplete and often secondary information. • . . Few men can resist the temptation of either ignoring or slightly deflecting such lines as refuse to run parallel, and even a genuine parallelism does not make us really happy if we cannot imagine how it came about. Small wonder, then, that another diffident attempt at correlating Gothic architecture and Scholasticism is bound to be looked upon with suspicion by both historians of art and historians of philosophy. Yet, setting aside for the moment all intrinsic analogies there exists between Gothic architecture and Scholasticism a palpable and hardly accidental concurrence in the purely factual domain of time and place." Gothic Architecture and ScholMticism (New York, 1964), pp. 1 f; see Genicot, op. cit., pp. 878 f. 19 20 700 THOMAS F. O'MEARA Preachers. From the autumn of 1245 into summer of 1248 he was at Paris as a student of Albertus Magnus. As we saw, during those years on the island in the midst of the Seine the Sainte-Chapelle was rapidly constructed. The high point of construction for Notre Dame most likely had occurred shortly after the turn of the century. This coincided with Perotin's polyphonic innovations in church music with the cathedral choir. After four years with Albert at the Univ:ersity of Cologne Thomas returned to teach and to prepare for his reception by the University of Paris as master. For two years he lectured on the Bible, and in 1254 he turned to the Sentences of Peter Lombard. In the midst of some conflict he became Magister in 1256 and remained in Paris for three years teaching. During those years it is generally agreed that the decision was made to construct two new facades for the north and south sides of Notre Dame. Out of the island of Paris with merchants to the right and masters to the left came innovation in music through rhythm and polyphony, in architecture through innovative vaulting and lighter walls, in statuary and the use of colored glass, and in theology and philosophy. By looking at some similar structural forms found in these different media we can understand better the cultural achievement of Aquinas's intellectual synthesis of faith. The kairos of Paris was a time of peace, affiuence, and creativity. C. Order-in-Diversity If one cultural characteristic is particularly evident within the climax of medieval culture it is the hypnotic attraction of order. Order, subtle or bold, composing a diversity of ideas or motifs or media (or all three) into a harmonious whole. From early in the .eleventh century there had been a search for harmony wherein a myriad of elements could achieve an effect greater than their sum and yet find an o.rder friendly tu that display of reality proper to .each facet. The Sentences of Peter Lombard, the geometrical windows at Chartres, the facades of Saint-Denis and ev.en of Chartres were intermediary PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 701 periods moving away from pure collection towards living, original syntheses. The Jesse Tree of Saint-Denis and the western portals of Chartres make it clear that their designers were pursuing the ideals of formal unity and constitutive unity common to all branches of creative endeavour at that time. These ideals found their grandest artistic expression in the architectural design of the Gothic sanctuaries of the Ile-de-France. 21 It was one thing to open space for numerous, large pictorial windows (Chartres): biblical parables, lives of saints, medieval life, the song of Roland. It was something else to organize a wall or a window (Sainte-Chapelle) into an esthetic experience 21 G. Henderson, Gothic (Baltimore, 1972), p. 57; "In Book Five of his treatise De Consideratione, completed in ll52, St. Bernard of Clairvaux contrasts the unity of the Three Persons of God with other lesser kinds of unity. First in his list is the unity which he calls 'collective', as for example when many stones make one heap .... During the first half of the twelfth century the principle of collective unity as the basis of artistic composition was replaced by the principle of constitutive unity, and as a result the Gothic style was created." Ibid., p. 43. For Aquinas's employment of these kinds of unum see Summa Theologiae, III, q. 2, a. I; In Librum Beati Dionysii Aeropagitae De Divinis Nominibus Expositio (Turin, 1950), XIII, ii. "To realize that constitutive unity is the central aim of the new style in architecture we have only to look at the ground plan of a typical twelfth-century Gothic cathedral, Notre Dame at Paris. Romanesque planning is quite different. In planning their churches, Romanesque architects were guided by an additive collective principle. Romanesque churches were the sum of separate portions, each stated with aggressive individuality." Henderson, op. cit., pp. 60 f. Some art historians compare the ideas of the cathedral schools in the twelfth century or the Victorines and Peter Lombard with the Gothic drive towards diversity in harmony. Climax should be compared with climax. Peter Lombard and the Victorines are contemporary with the beginnings of Gothic architecture, and their reference point would be Saint-Denis and Chartres (as von Simson develops in detail). In the concluding decades of the end of the 12th century theology like architecture is filled with potentiality. The climax of art between Notre Dame and Sainte-Chapelle corresponds more to the work of Albert and Aquinas. Whereas in the first half of the twelfth century theology seems to be slightly ahead in developing these primal thought-forms, architecture in the first half of the thirteenth century has outstripped its sisters, the sacred sciences. Different media do not participate in the kairos with mutual exactness. Panofsky sees this; Gothic Architecture ... , p. 4. Cf. A. Priest, "The Master of the West Facade of Chartres," Chartres Cathedral, R. Branner, ed. (New York, 1969); A. Katzenellenbogen, The Sculptural Programs of Chartres (New York, 1964). 702 THOMAS F. O'MEARA of size and form. The same tension exists between Peter Lombard's collection and Aquinas's textbook. The thought-form of the Summa emerges not only from within architecture and canon law but within history, literatur.e out of the attraction of four-part polyphony and in rhythm. From Paris with its archiepiscopal cannons and concergerie comes the scholastic method highly developed in the Summa of questions, in the cathedral and in the motet. Its goal is not all encompassing arrangement, a mere totality, but harmony out of diversity, order within variety. As the society delights in its own capacity for deft creativity, the desire for masterful arrangement is enkindled; the grandiose product is the Summa. The delight of the master theologian or architect was that the whole, while avoiding an eclipse of the units, would be greater than the sum total. Within the totality the individual elements stand out even as they support on all sides the total fabric. The sum total of logical calculations is therefore not in the end put forward for its own sake, but for the sake of a superlogical effect. The resultant expression goes far beyond the means by which it was attained, and the sight of a Gothic cathedral does not impress our minds as being a display of structural processes but as an outburst of transcendental longing expressed in stone.... A moment of superhuman force carries us up with it into the intoxication of an endless willing and craving.... 22 The drive towards the Summa is not realized in an encyclopedia. There were encyclopedias at this time, representing the medieval interest in total informational control. 23 Vincent of Beauvais was wrestling with the concern which would later be Hegel's, how to philosophize order into history. The material elements, the small units have their legitimate role, their own claritas,24 their individual brilliance as art. Hauser is correct in pointing out that the cathedral appears differently from 22 W. Worringer, Form in Gothic (New York, 1957), p. 108; cf. pp. 166 ff. •• See J. Evans, op. cit., p. 113; Hinnebusch, "The Encyclopedists," op. cit., pp. 420 ff. •• Thomas Aquinas, In Librum Beati Dionysii De Divinis Nominibus Expositio, c. IV, xxi. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 708 different angles; it has a mobile unity with different, subjectively perceived facets. 25 Moreover, how many art historians select as the dominant motif of the Gothic over against the Renaissance a location of man (before or inside the Cathedral) within a larger world touched by an aesthetic dynamic drawing his contemplation upwards and beyond. The origins of the drive to the intellectual Summa lie in law, philosophy, theology, and history. One current arises from the influence of Roman law upon canon law. The dialectical method of Gratian was organized to produce beyond glosses or lists of opinions a systematic and comprehensive treatise which would follow the logical order of doctrine rather than the literal order of a previous legal compilation. Since Abelard's Sic et Non the theologians of France had also been wrestling with the problem of theological arrangement and of the interplay between reason as well as authority in reflection on faith. By the middle of the twelfth century there are collections of opinions with Peter Lombard's achieving the greatest success. Thus at Paris (after 1160) there were two streams of influence flowing, the one deriving from the dialectical Theologia of Abelard, the other from the methodical, lucid, spiritual De sacramentis of Hugh; they were united in the Summae of Robert of Melun an.d of the school of Gilbert de la to produce a new theological form, covering the whole range of doctrine and embodying the two strands of theological opinion and Aristotelian reasons. 26 Although Alexander of Hales and Albert the Great had already written Summae, Aquinas's Prologue to his Summa Theologiae might give the impression he is beginning anew. Work· ing at a puzzle others had not fully solved, his work will replace •• Op. cit., I, pp. !ll43 f. •• D. Knowles, The Evolution of Medieval Patristic Thought (New York, 196!ll), p. 179. For Chenu the goal of the Scholastic method was to expound concisely all the main doctrines of a given scientific area; to push research beyond pieeemeal analysis with the subject matter organized precisely and synthetically; and to employ the final product for good teaching. "What Is a Summa?," Toward . ... , p. !ll98. " What else is a summa, if not a concise gathering together ... a summary of singular data." Robert of Melun, Sententie, cited in Chenu, Toward . ... , p. !ll99. 704 THOMAS F. O'MEARA the random orders of the Bible and of the public disputations with another, a more interesting and coherent order. Into his Summa Aquinas brings all of the information he can gather: the Scriptures and the Apostle; the canonists; the Greek Fathers and especially Chrysostom; the Latin Fathers and especially Augustine; the Philosopher and the Platonists; medical and biological and astronomical works. How mistaken Baroque and Idealistic thought was to see Aquinas's work as pyramidical metaphysics par excellence-this is like seeing only the bare stone structure of Notre Dame. Above all the SuMMA THEOLOGIAE is an ordered presentation of the dynamic act of God, i.e., of revelation and grace reaching man through the concrete, empirical world, pemeptually presented by genuises in sciences ranging from biology to philosophical theology. Panofsky describes the development of the Summa-form. " In formal organization, too, the High Scholastic Summa differs from the less comprehensive, less strictly organized, and much less uniform encyclopedias and Libri Sententiarum of the eleventh and twelfth centuries much in the same ways as does the High Gothic style from its ancestry." 27 The organizational form of this culture aims at manifestatio ("Sacred Teaching uses philosophy to manifest . . ." 28 ) which requires (I) totality of treatment, (2) arrangement of equal parts, (3) distinction and interrelation. 29 Panofsky is correct, but we can go deeper and see that between the general tone of the medieval culture and the works themselves there are more precise formal and material principles at work in some areas. Within the Summa Theologiae we can discern these two principles fashioning the order of this vast work. The first we could call the formal principle: a dynamic, all-encompassing focus of arrangement; it is that of exit and return; it is a Platonic mov.ement along a horizontal elipse arranging all realities of nature and grace. The material principle is a second thought-form present in the various sections and questions of •• Gothic Architecture ... , p. 7; see pp. 70 ff. •• Summa Theologiae I, q. 1, a. 8 ad 2. 20 Gothic Architecture, p. 31. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 705 Aquinas's theological work. It is Aristotelan, vertical, a construction of a unit by analysis from the more known but general through questioning dialectic to the lucid display of the issue researched. 80 These two focal points arranging the vast material of the Summa have often been neglected, and the neglect explains the frequent dominance in the history of dogma of tractate- theology and manualism, of explanations of Revelation as propositional and of theology as an esoteric, logical deduction of new conclusions from old truth. When the material principle loses its relationship to the formal movement of the whole work, obscuring its dialectical dynamic, the Summa becomes a collection of conclusions. Chenu observes that the mobile, formal, and horizontal principle is particularly theological, i.e., a historical and biblical dynamic for the work. The quaestio is the distillation of the scholastic method and presents a form for material to be arranged from and to its Principle of existence. 31 The totality of the Summa Theologiae is not a rational background for individual tracts any more than the windows of the SainteChapelle exist only to give light for the statues of the twelve apostles. In the medieval world-and the churches show us stained-glass windows, painting, this so clearly-architecture, friezes and sculpture, ceramics and decorative motifs combine to highlight each other, impressing upon the vi.ewer an experi30 Aquinas's first work De Ente et Essentia was written around 1256 as the transept towers of Notre Dame were being completed; compare both as examples of the vertical, hierarchical order of Aristotelian logic and metaphysics. 81 Chenu, "The Birth of the Questio," Toward . ... , pp. 85 ff; "In order, therefore, to understand the Summa theologiae as well as the purpose of its author, it is important to perceive the ordo disciplinae that is worked out in it-not only the logical plan of the work, with its divisions and sub-divisions, but also that inner flow of movement giving life to the structure after having created it. This movement, in fact, reveals, together with the scientific reasons that govern the whole arrangement, the intellectual options by means of which it was decided here aud there to lay stress on this or that part." Ibid., p. 301. The formal order of Neoplatonic movement faced the question whether biblical salvation-history could receive the imprint of scientia; the pattern Aquinas chose retains from biblical history the motif of movement but combines that with the diffusion of all beings, with an ontology. 706 THOMAS F. O'MEARA ence of the whole. The balance of High Gothic is not only of space and weight but of height and motion, or of light and dark. Rarely has there been an architecture of such serenity, of moments frozen out of movement towards the transcendent. The High Gothic cathedral is a monument to clarity and reason .... Every part has its proper place, nothing has been omitted, nothing is superfluous. Instead of the starkly opposed verticals and horizontals of the Greeks the medieval architect used graceful arches. But similar principles underlie his design. Vertical shafts support each arch or rib and the substance of the structure can be read on the surface. Never for a moment are we allowed to doubt its inherent stability. Yet the High Gothic cathedral is not a sterile exercise in logic. It is a visionary design, a vivid, a living testimony to the dream of its maker. Composed of solid blocks, it is open and vast. Rooted to the earth by massive, ponderous walls, it soars upward into aerial towers and spires. It forms a finite space with every vista clearly limited, yet it appears to be constantly expanding in size. And it has huge windows to let in floods of light, but thanks to the stained glass the interior is as dim as twilight. These paradoxes are more apparent than real, however, for the High Gothic style is not tense, but calm and balanced. 82 The cathedral is a Summa: a single ordering of many media. Its theological and iconographical plans aimed at a harmony of effects, effects experiential as well as intellectual, effects of senses and mind, of history and ontology, of nature and grace. Suger described the abbey-church under construction, the innovation of Gothic at Saint-Denis as a harmony of elements brought together out of diversity to encompass light and to lead to Light. Two aspects of Gothic are without precedent and parallel: the use of light and the unique relationship between structure and appearance. By the use of light I mean more specifically the relation of light to the material substance of the walls.... The Gothic wall seems to be porous: light filters through it, permeating it, merging with it, transforming .... The stained-glass windows of the Gothic replace the brightly colored walls of Romanesque architecture; they are structurally and aesthetically not openings in the wall to admit light but transparent walls. . . . 82 R. Banner, "High Gothic Architectures,'' The Year 1fJOO, II, p. 7. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 707 The second striking feature of the Gothic style is the new relationship between function and form, structure and appearance. We cannot enter a Gothic church without feeling that every visible member of the great system has a job to do. There are no walls but only supports; the bulk and weight of the vault seem to have contracted into a sinewy web of the ribs. There is no inner matter, only active energy.B3 There is a similarity between these characteristics of luminosity and structural harmony and the formal and material thoughtforms of the Summa Theologiae mentioned above. We will pursue the formal principle below in some detail. The artists and the theological consultants 34 faced in the rose windows or in the facades of the cathedrals the same questions as the magistri did in planning their summary works. 35 There was an enormous space to be covered. The medieval mind will want to select a central theme of magnitude: e. g., salvation-history prior to Mary and Christ; the apocalypse, or kingship from Melchisedech through Christ Crucified to Louis IX. Innumerable scenes with a myriad of figures had to be arranged to giv.e a single, transcendent effect. 83 von Simson, op. cit., pp. 3, 4, 7. See Henderson, op. cit., p. 70; Chenu Toward ... , p. 318. •• On the contact between artists and theologians: G. Henderson, op. cit., pp. 15 f.; J. Harvey, The Master Builders (New York, 1973); A. Martindale, The Rise of the Artist (New York, 1973). "The architect lived in close contact with the sculptors, glass painters, wood carvers, etc., whose work he studied wherever he went (witness the" Album" of Villard de Honnecourt), whom he engaged and supervised in his own enterprises, and to whom he had to transmit an iconographic program ... he could work out only in close cooperation with a scholastic adviser." Panofsky, Gothic Architecture ... , p. 27; R. Guelluy, "La place des theologiens dans l'eglise et la societe medievale," MisceUanea historica, A. de Meyer, ed (Louvain, 1946), I, pp. 571 fl'. These works discuss the master architect as magister. With regards to music: " ... the twelfth and thirteenth centuries-coincided with the time when Paris rules the musical world; for men who studied or taught in the university, most of them composers and theorists as well, were largely responsible for the rapid development of polyphonic forms-organum, eonductus, motet--during these centuries." N. C. Carpenter, Music in the Medieval and Renaissance Universities (Norman, 1958), p. 69. 35 " ••• three characteristic Gothic 'problems '-or, as we might say, quaestiones: the rose window in the west facade, the organization of the wall beneath the clerestory, and the conformation of the nave piers." Panofsky, Gothic Architecture • • • , p. 70. 708 THOMAS F. O'MEARA This (the order of the windows of the Sainte-Chapelle) is not, in fact, as has often been said, a " narrative " or " historical " program, following the order of the Bible ... and completed by a modern subject .... In our opinion we must separate out of this totality several parts or " cycles." 26 In the iconography of the Sainte-Chapelle the first cycle is historical; a second is one of prophets. Both lead to the main subject, the Passion of Christ, and are culminated in the single rose window whose theme is the apocalyptic second coming of the crucified Redeemer. When compared with the programs of the first half of the thirteenth century, that of the Sainte-Chapelle is one of powerful originality and of great subtlety; it seems inspired by the tendencies of its contemporary, scholasticism, by an exegesis at times concerned with the " literal " sense of the Scriptures and by a variety of symbolic interpretations which, nevertheless, are not reducible to the typeantitype so common in the traditional iconography of the twelfth century. 87 Writers in the Middle Ages gave the multi-colored images in the church windows the purpose of showing simple folk ignorant of the Scriptures what they ought to believe. In addition to their didactic purposes the stained-glass windows of a church were part of an elaborate theological program. The iconography of this program, its symbolism and meaning, was derived from many sources-from commentaries on the Bible and other theological writings. In visual terms, the underlying meaning of Christianity, as related in the Bible and interpreted by theologians was made comprehensible through image and narrative. In all probability, the plan for the decoration of the structure was devised by local churchmen. It is known, for example, that Suger was responsible for the iconography of his windows at St. Denis. 38 The problem for both the authors of the cartoons for the windows and for gifted schoolmen intent upon their own works was the same: the formal principle of ordering the whole. •• Aubert, et a!., Les Vitraux ... , pp. SO f. Ibid., p. 81. 88 J. Hayward, "Stained-Glass Windows," The Year 1200, II, p. 72. 37 PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 709 Music gives us a third example of the love of plurality ordered. Wherever one looks (in medieval poetry and music) one perceives a trend toward animated motion. The guiding principle of Gothic architecture was to attain the greatest possible richness in architectural motion; the static image of space played a subordinate role. The same principle is manifest in Gothic music and is expressed in the rhythmical motion of the independent parts. 89 Polyphony did not begin at Notre Dame after 1160, but it did find a place there for firm innovation and lasting repertory. Leontin and Perotin (still active in the first decade of the 13th century) of the Notre Dame school and choir developed a twopart and then a three-part and four-part polyphony. Above a sustaining line, slowed down Gregorian Chant, were sung improvisations, the tropes of other, melismatic voices. Polyphony, too, is linear, horizontal, moving. It is tonal diversity organized, parallel musical intricacy possible through a technical command of multiplicity. The formal organizing of the several voices led to fixed rhythm entering Western music. Quickly the motet was at hand, and the Church was scandalized at the colorful, distracting intricacy of this music careening towards novelty and individuality. The metamorphosis of the massive homogeneous organum into an animated structural web of rhythms and melodies in the Gothic motet was in every way analogous to the stylistic changes that took place in the fine art and literature. It required from the listener a new approach and a new conception of listening to music, for the Gothic motet did not establish an intimate relationship between listener and singer. Instead of concentrating on a group of singers, the listener had to follow three individual parts presenting three distinct moods .... The listener must make his choice, select a part and follow it, and then become a part of the polyphonic web.40 •• Paul H. Lang, Music in Western Civilization (New York, 1941), p. See Dom A. Hughes, "Music in Fixed Rhythm," New Oxford History of Music, II (Oxford, 1954), pp. 314 fl'. 40 Ibid., p. 137; see "Ecclesiastical Opposition to Polyphony," ibid., p. 139. 710 THOMAS F. O'MEARA m Aquin.as and Pseudo-Denis and Cultural Convergence: N eo platonism in Theology and Glass How to find a formal organizing principle which would bring harmony out of the old and the new within tumultuous, medieval intellectual life? This was the problem Aquinas faced in composing his Summa Theologiae. Its synthesis would risk more than the earlier Summa Contra Gentes and the unfinished Compendium Theologiae. The problem should be solved by arranging unity-in-div.ersity through a pattern which possessed both clarity and action. Aquinas's synthesis would have to transcend yet unite all the sources and authorities summoned forth to explain God's teaching about man's sanctity and future. Would the medieval thinker search for the " form of forms " in the saving history of the Bible, or in the vertically ascending patterns of the very relevant Aristotle? As we know, curiously Aquinas turned to N eoplatonic patterns of thought. Beyond the scientific world of Aristotle, Saint Thomas appeals to a Platonic theme of emanation and return. Since theology is the science of God, all things will be studied in their relation to God, whether in their production or in their final .end, in their exitus et reditus [going-out from and coming-back to]. What a splendid source of intelligibility! Now, every thing, every being, every action, every destiny will be located, known, judged, in terms of the highest causality wherein the reason of their being will be fully revealed under the light of God itself. This is more than science, it is wisdom. This wonderful nco-Platonic theme-Christian or pagan does not matter right now-in continuity with the epistemology of the Greek philosophers develops the latter's potential beyond the horizon it had reached in order to explain the becoming of created being. It is the schema of a universal order in which all natures will be located within an analytical array according to genus and species, but in which, moreover, the mind's understanding reaches the root common to every nature. 41 "Chenu, Toward . ..• , p. 804. Arguing that any Neoplatonic current stems more from Plotinus than from Plato are E. Hoffmann, ''Platonismus und Mittelalter," PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 711 It is processional movement, being from higher beings and Being, the illumined participation in luminosity which gives this formal pattern its uniqueness. For it is both metaphysics and history. The hierarchy of being is evident, but so is the history of grace. This neo-Platonic schema is also responsive to history, that sacred history whose opening page is precisely a description of the emanation of the world, whose whole course is an account of God's governing of his creatures, whose outcome is decided by the way men behave in their desire for happiness as they return to God. Upon this circuit, one can locate the facts and deeds recorded in sacred history-with all the contingency (herein is the trademark of Christian neo-Platonism) that their dependence on the free will of God and of man implies.42 Upon this ellipse of destiny, coming forth from God and going back to God, every fact and moment of cosmic and redemptive history can be properly fitted, yet without suppressing the Christian dialectic of God's sovereignty and man's freedom. The theme exitus-reditus brings with it movement; it is a curved line which can become both mysticism (emanation from God) and history (successive events) . Yet, this model is beyond history; although it may resemble the chronology of the arrangement of the books of the Bible, it does not simply reproduce the historical experience of God in the history of man. Finally, while this pattern acknowledges, it also transcends individual realism. Although Aquinas strongly espouses in his works on logic and natural science the realism of Aristotle rooted in each individual entity, the realities of the ellipse while complete in their own sphere are ultimately referrable to an Absolute Reality. How did this thought-from reach Aquinas? Can we study it as a cultural motif present in different media? Popular history has it that from his appearance upon the scene in the latter decades of the twelfth century Aristotle and his Arabian Warburg Vortriige (Berlin, 19!i!6) and K. Kremer, Die neuplatonische Seinsphilosophie und ihre Wirkung auf Thomas von Aqui111 (Leiden, 1966). •• Ibid., p. 85. 712 THOMAS F. O'MEARA companions dominated, transubstantiating the world-view from Platonism to realism. In fact, the twelfth and thirteenth centuries retained a complex pattern of Platonic movements and witnessed the growth of some of these. 43 The emanation and return motif had been in circulation since Scotus Erigena and did not immediately connote an embrace of Plotinianism. Aquinas often unconsciously absorbed N eoplatonic ideas from Platonized works passing as compositions of Aristotle. Above all there were the extremely influential works of Denis: Greek philosopher, convert of Paul, evangelizing bishop of Paris. Aquinas like all of his contemporaries believed the legends about Saint Denis. 44 This Dionysius was a convert of Paul from the Apostle's arduous intellectual campaigns on the Areopagus. 45 He found his way to Roman Paris to evangelize the small town and to end his life in a miracle-surrounded martyrdom on Montmartre. With this dual :figure was united a third personage, the remarkable Syrian, monastic writer of '"On the presence and complexity of Neoplatonism during the Middle Ages see: R. Klibansky, The Continuity of the Platonic Tradition during tlie Middle Ages (London, 1949); R. J. Henle, St. Thomas and Platonism (The Hague, 1956); E. Weber, La Controverse de 1£70 a l'Universite de Paris (Paris, 1970). •• See Chenu, Toward . .. , pp. 226 ff.; J. Durante!, S. Thomas et le Pseudo-Denys (Paris 1919); Caramello, "De Fortuna Operum Dionysii .... ," in Aquinas, De Divinis Nominibus . .. , ed. cit., pp. xi ff. H. F. Dondaine, Le Corpus dionysien de l'Universite de Paris au Xlleme siecle (Rome, 1953). R. Rogues, "Introduction," La Hierarchie Celeste (Paris, 1958). Aquinas refers to St. Denis as a student of Paul in his commentary; c. II, 4-6; c. II, 4. Aquinas considers, however, Denis to be quite different from the Platonici whom he corrects; Aquinas, Super Librum de Causis Expositio, I, 4; Henle, op. cit., pp. 424 ff. On the origin of the Dionysian legend see P. J. Leonertz "La legende parisienne de St. Denys l'Areopagite," Analecta Bolandiana (Brussels, 1951), p. 69. Johannes Sarracenus, whose translation of Pseudo-Dionysius Aquinas used, states: "Among ecclesiastical writers Dionysius comes after the Apostles." M. Grabmann, Mittelalterliches Geistesleben (Munich, 1936), pp. 457 ff. Abelard, who had been a monk at S. Denis suggested that the Areopagite and the apostle of Paris were not the same; Panofsky, "Introduction," Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of St. Denis and Its Art Treasures (Princeton, 1946), p. 18. 45 "After that Paul left them, but there were some who attached themselves to him and became believers, among them Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman , called Damaris, and others besides." Acts, 17:33-34. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 713 the early sixth century, a master of Christian Neoplatonism. As patron of Paris and as Greek speculative mind, Dionysius was important to Aquinas and to Paris. For the motif of the " translation of the center of study " from Athens to Paris via Rome, the key actor became Dionysius. Thomas of Ireland, 0. P., writing at the end of the thirteenth century, observes: " The Blessed Dionysius . . . came to Paris so that he might make of this city the mother of studies after the pattern of Athens. Like Athens, the city of Paris is divided into three parts ... the merchants, the noblemen, the colleges." 46 Even amid the strong contemporary interest in Dionysian thought, Aquinas made extraordinary use of the pseudoAreopagite.47 As Thomas matur.ed, he grew more critical in his evaluation of some N eoplatonic texts passing as Aristotelian. An incomplete Arabic text of Plotinus's Enneads existed under the title of Theologia Aristotelis and the Liber de causis (which Aquinas with the help of his Dominican translator William of Moerbeke, the future Archbishop of Corinth, identified as not from Aristotle's pen) created an favorable to this " subliminal Platonism." In the commentary on the Sentences 48 agreement between Dionysius and Aristotle is normally reached, while in the later De Malo 49 Aquinas sees that in many things Dionysius is" Platonic." While Aquinas is critical of the Platonici and admits that Dionysius writes stylo Platonico, he will not lose any of his great respect for Dionysius and at times uses him (like Augustine) as an auctoritas to refute Platonism. One might ask: was propinquity to Paul seen as a guarantee of healthy Hellenism? It is hard to know how extensive was the practice of commenting on Dionysius at Paris in the middle decades of the thirteenth century. We have in the handwriting of young Aquinas from about 1250 a repoTtatio of his teacher Albert De tribus sensibus S. Scripturae, cited in Chenu, Toward. .. , p. Durante! counted citations of 466 different texts; op. cit., p. 60. 48 In II Sent., d. 14, a. 1, a. •• Q. 16, a. 1, 3. For various texts see Henle, op. cit., pp. But Dionysius avoids the basic errors of the Platonici: De Divinis Nominibus, Proemium, IV, ii. 46 47 714 THOMAS F. O'MEARA commenting on the De divinis nominibus. Albert began his commentaries while in Paris in 1248 and completed them in Cologne.50 Around 1261 Aquinas struggled to treat" the mystical-metaphysical attire " of Dionysius through Aristotelian mental categories. This would be good preparation for the counterpoint a few years later between Thomas's chosen formal and material thought-forms to be developed as the superstructure for the Summa Theologiae. For Dionysius a pristine "name" of God is light. "Now it is right for us to praise the intelligent naming (of God as) good light .... God is like a ray overflowing and superemanating, an effusion of light illuminating every supramundane, circamundane, and mundane mind from its own fullness, ... converting from many opinions . . . gathering to one knowledge, completing by one, unitive light." 51 Aquinas, commenting, elaborates this theology of active, diffusive luminosity. "God comports himself to those in which he causes light in three ways: diffusion, excess, comprehension." 52 After reviewing the opinions of physicists on the nature of light (Is light a body or a quality?), Aquinas follows Dionysius into the explanation of the divine persons flowing from God in terms of light. 53 Next, the image of light is linked to that of the good. Creatures desire sunlight as the good source of their life, and so they return again and again to it. Aquinas concludes that God is like the sun: the good, directing creator and provider of the universe. Yet, his primal light is inaccessible. The in50 P. Simon, "Prologomena," S. Alberti Magni, De divinis nominibus, Opera Omnia 37: I (Aschendorff, I972), pp. vi ff. G. Thery, "L'autographe de S. Thomas conserve a la Biblioteca Nazionale de Naples," Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum, I (I93I), pp. I5-86. 51 De divinis nominibus, IV, iv. •• In Librum Beati Dionysii. . . . , IV, iv. "The Divine Light and the being which it confers are the illuminating cascade whose steps are described by the treatises (of Dionysius). This 'illumination' must not be conceived as a simple gift of light to already existing things but a gift of light is their very being." E. Gilson, History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages (New York, 1954), p. 83. 58 Ibid., II, ii. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 715 visible being of God is manifest in the world around us. 54 Explaining beauty, Aquinas can describe it as a "lightning" which participates in the divine luminosity. Beauty comes not only from clarity but from the harmony of the parts. One harmony is found in the r.elationship of the world to God's light (which is at the same time an " ordering of creatures back to God ") , while the other is found in the parts of creation related to each other and to the whole.55 The writings of Scripture are also light (s) derived from the first light, the primal source of truth. 56 The image of the diffusion of light analogously illustrates creation and justification-sanctification. The excessus is the gracious gift of being and grace. Man's comprehension initiates his mental, biological, and historical return to God. And so in the earlier commentary on the Sentences we find: " In the coming of creatures from the first principle, there is a kind of circling or gyration, since all things return as to their end to that from which they came as from their principle." 57 Gothic and Pseudo-Denis Pseudo-Dionysius might link Aquinas's pattern for his Sum"' Ibid., IV, iii. ""Ibid., IV, v. 66 Ibid., I, i. Music too suggests the importance of Platonic forms in medieval thought. Music became parallel diversity in motion. Polyphony only organized its two or three lines minimally from the vertical perspective; the parallels were swept forward. Augustine's De Musica exercised great influence; Pythagorean and Neoplatonic theories of music through mathematics influenced artistic creativity, so the choice of harmony was dictated by theories based upon perfect mathematical and astrophysical relationships. "According to him (Alan of Lille) God is the artful architect who builds the cosmos as his regal palace composing and harmonizing the variety of created things by means of ' subtle chains ' of musical consonance. The first Gothic cathedrals were rising when these lines were written." von Simson, op. cit., pp. 12 f. One could add that polyphony was expanding at the same time. This theorizing helps us to explain why Aquinas's analogy for faith I vision takes for granted music as a division of mathematics. "Some sciences proceed from principles known by the light of a higher science ... music from the principles derived from arithmetic." (Summa. Theol., I, q. 1, a. 2). 57 In I Sent., d. 14, q. 2, a. 2. Thomas Aquinas is not fully Dionysian for he will not limit God by such a hierarchism. God himself is the goal and source of man and he is present (" grace") immediately to man in personality and history. See 0. Semmelroth, " Die Lehre des Ps.-Dionysius Areopagita vom Aufstieg der Kreatur zur gottlichen Licht," Scholastik, 29 (1954) pp. 26 ff. 716 THOMAS F. O'MEARA ma with another cultural example of this Neoplatonic emana- tion from and return to God: light as the architectural event of the Gothic church. With some exaggeration Worringer writes: Anyone entering a Gothic cathedral encounters something far removed from sensuous clarification. He encounters an intoxication of the sense, not the direct gross intoxication produced by the Baroque, but a mystical intoxication of the sense which is not of this world. Gothic space is unbridged activity. It does not receive the beholder with soft gestures, but carries him violently along, exacting as a mystical compulsion to which the burdened soul deems it a delight unresistently to yield.58 Suger, Abbot of Saint-Denis, towards the middle of the twelfth century offered a religious theory for the breakthrough in church decor through large stained-glass windows and lightsome stone. He turned to the N eoplantonic theories of the procession of light from Light so characteristic of PseudoDionysius, the patron of the abbey which he was rebuilding and the patron of the kingdom-city for which Suger intended to offer ecclesio-theological support. Gothic architecture through a system of skeletal supports, ribs, buttresses, arches, and vaults freed wall space for glass. The technique of stained-glass rose to the occasion to provide shimmering mosaics dominated by reds or by blues. By the year 1200 the colors had been deepened, naturalness and realism had pervaded the figures, and the medium could be integrated into the total aesthetic program of the cathedral. While the culmination of stained glass came from Arab technology and Aristotelian realism, the theology behind it was twelfth-century Neoplatonism. "The close analogy between Dionysian light metaphysics and Gothic luminosity is evident." 59 Suger was aware not only of the presence of light and lights through stained-glass but of the luminosity which the entire church would possess. A dedicatory poem for his new abbey-church •• W. Worringer, vp. cit., p. 55. •• von Simson, vp. cit., p. 106. PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 717 concluded: "Et quod perfundit lux nova claret opus nobile." 60 The beige-gray stone employed, the entry of light through the windows, the new height of the structure must be experienced to comprehend what an effect was set in motion at Saint-Denis. Yet Suger's church was far from finished; it would be completed in fact as well as in theory by the master of the SainteChapelle. The abbey of Saint- Denis was a center for Hellenistic studies, for Greek translations of Christian Neoplatonic works. 61 Suger read the writings ascribed to the man whose controversial legendary personality had caused the rift between Abelard and the Abbey. 62 At the beginning of the De caelesti hierarchia Dionysius says that we can rise to God because all things are material lights which mirror ultimately the true light of God. Every creature, visible or invisible, is a light brought into being by the Father of lights. This stone or that piece of wood is a light to me. But this procession of lights is also movement, emanation of lightsome creatures from their source, and then their r.eturn to it. Earlier in the dedicatory poem (these lines are inscribed on the door) Suger said that believers struck by the lights of the work would travel "through these true lights to the True Light for which Christ is the true door." 68 At the beginning of the Prima Pars of the Summa Theologiae Aquinas writes: " First we will treat of God, secondly of the movement of the rational creature back to God, thirdly of Christ who as man is the way for us of tending to God." 64 Later, speaking Panofsky, "Introduction," Abbot Suger . .. , p. !'l!'l. Johannes Sarracenus dedicated his new translation of Pseudo-Dionysius, replacing that of Scotus Erigena, to Odo, Suger's successor in the abbacy. See von Simson, op. cit., pp. 106 ff; L. Delisle, "Traductions de textes grecs faites par des rcligieux de Saint-Denis au XIIe siecle," Journal des Savants, 1900, pp. 7!'l5 ff. Saint-Denis was connected to Chartres in several ways. Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres and friend of Suger, was at the consecration in 1144. The work or influence of sculptors from S. Denis is in evidence on statues and capitals at Chartres. See Branner, op. cit.; Katzenellenbogen, op. cit. 62 Panofsky, "Introduction," Abbot Suger. ... , p. 18. 63 Ibid., p. !'l8. 64 Summa. Theol., I, q. !'l. "If the intelligible principles, i.e., the ideas can exist for Dionysius only through a participation in being, a fortiori things in the 60 61 718 THOMAS F. O'MEARA of God and creation, and alluding to Dionysius, Aquinas will say that according to the normal usage of "light " God is not a light, but according to an extended use, namely, making things to be manifest, then God is the " light " of all of creation.65 Suger saw his artistic achievements as media for light. Naturally in the windows and their effect upon the experience of the viewers, the Neoplatonic schema is well verified. Suger did not invent the stained-glass window, but when the cultural time and the technological skill arrived to give it prominence he offered a theological interpretation. The transformation of Norman and Burgundian models in the design of St. Denis can really be explained as the artistic realization of ideas actually taken over from the Pseudo-Areopagite. Thus, by recording the building of his church, Suger has, as it were, rendered transparent the creative process that translated the theology of light and music into the Gothic style.66 We have not wanted to give the impression that Suger and Aquinas were contemporaries, or that they were influenced by culture in the same way. The corpus of Pseudo-Dionysius with certain thought-forms contributed to a cultural atmosphere lasting over a century. This atmosphere can be concretely seen in different media: in the earlier breakthrough to Gothic, and in the High Gothic production by Aquinas of a true Summa. Exit"us-reditus, the procession of lights from Light-this form was not only in the air but in the efforts of the culture. Aquinas's theology through the skeletal indications of what his formal plan is for the Summa Theologiae expresses the theological analogy to, an interpretation of, the artistic experience order of the senses exist only through participation in being. This shows us how Dionysius understands the procession of things out of God, which Christian usage calls creation: creation (Dionysius hardly uses the term) means emanation and participation in God . . . the principle out of which everything flows while in itself cannot proceed from anything else. The creature is that which participates in the primum participatum and flows from it." Kremer, op. cit., p. 856. •• Summa. Theol., I, q. 67, a. 1. •• von Simson, op. cit., p. 133; see p. 131. PARIS A CULTURAL MlLimU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT 719 of the cathedral. Light enters our world mysteriously, an analogue to the reality of God: penetrating, diffusing, enlivening through colored glass the figures and events which are the " sacraments " of the jeweled windows. This light bearing the mysticism of color and the content of salvation-history strikes the believer whose spirit in ecstasy is drawn out of himself outwards in a return to the One, the Source, the Deity. Salvation-history is interpreted with a Plotinian nuance, losing something of its horizontal historicity. The Biblical narratives are r.eal, just as the windows' designs are real, and without them we would not contact God or see light. Yet, the goal of history and of the window is not the figurative events, but human contact with the Mysterious who is God and light. As we have noted, the most sublime realities of nature or grace are described in the Summa Theologiae not to provide informatio!l but to nourish the moving ellipse whose source may be active, primal light, but whose focal point is man (exitus-reditus). In terms of the three dimensions of time, in both architecture and theology, the past is prominent (the philosophers and Fathers, the statues and windows) and exists to serve the present moment of grace-surrounded contemplation. The future exists not ahead as the continuation of the long line of history, but above, a lasting fulfillment of the present. Students of Aquinas long neglected the kinetic, Neoplatonic lines. Did not this foster the never-satiated analyses of the tracts and questions? The cultural context of the partial and total work of Aquinas was neglected as were the horizontal relationships of section to section. Attention was paid to the vertical, the logical, the "Aristotelian." For instance, in the consideration of law and grace in the Summa Theologiae the horizontal lines lead backwards to the processions of God as Triune and to the dynamics of the human psyche (or moving in the other direction, to the Incarnate Word). These intermediaries culminate in God as a causal Being of participated fullness, a reality at whose source-point for our world the distinction of nature and grace is not all that clear. Chenu writes: 720 THOMAS F. O'MEARA How often, in the interpretation of the Ila Pars in particular, I was shocked by the rigid and systematic way in which the Aristotelian structures present in the text were commented upon in detail, while the sap of evangelical and patristic spirituality supplying life to these otherwise dead branches was ignored or glossed over.... Yet, the effort of systematizing theology must, at any cost, respect the strange logic of the Kingdom of God.... " 67 And so, the realism of the bird on the capitals in the SainteChapelle or Aristotle's title of " the philosopher " do not represent a complete triumph over Neoplatonism. Yet we have here a Plotinian strain not of unreal symbols but of sacraments where both the human and the divine are intermingled, and then drawn outward and upward. One of the cultural discoveries concerning Aquinas's work is that the formal organizing principle of his uniquely successful attempt at a Summa is Neoplatonic rather than Aristotelian. While Aquinas does not connect his pattern directly with Dionysius, we know that this mystical theologian held the highest position, as the result of the mixture of legends, in not only the theological but in the cultural world of Paris during the climax of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. In mysticism and ecclesiology, in politics and papal theory, the Areopagite's influence was To step into the new creations of glass and stone or into the lecture halls of the university the discerning mind might feel at home among similar enterprises and related thought-forms. Conclusion The preceding pages have only introduced the enterprise of situating Thomas Aquinas within his polychrome cultural milieu, an enterprise which theologians and art historians have often alluded to but rarely pursued. Other areas suggest themselves for this hermeneutic through cultural comparison. First, the opening question of the Summa Theologiae has a history of interpretations. Many of them never escape the abChenu, Toward . ... , p. 309. On these areas see M.-J. Congar, "Aspects ecclesiologiques de la querelle entre mendiants et seculiers dans la second moitie du Xllle siecle et le debut du XIVe," Archives d'histoire doctrinale et litterarire du moyen age, 36 (1961), 85-151 67 68 PARIS A CULTURAL MILIEU OF AQUINAS' THOUGHT stract and metaphysical. They appear singularly uninterested in the cultural milieu as a source for understanding the nature and purpose of Aquinas's magnum opus. 9 Yet, the composition of this work is woven from the strands of controversy and change. Aquinas had placed himself at the carrefour of Arabs and Greeks, of ancient texts and new translations, of every science and every theology. Surely a discussion of theology as scientia 70 is understood not only by uncovering Aristotle's definition but out of a context born of the university's attitude towards the burgeoning of information for the secular sciences. The new science and university were an offensive questioning any place in the university for fides quaerens intellectum. We have already noticed the Platonic theory of music (which had concrete effects on the medieval ear's preference for fourths) as the illustration in this question for Aquinas's rather unconvincing analogy supporting theology as a science. The treatment of Scripture's literal sense in the last two articles of this opening question reflects the new naturalism and realism of the time. This realism is as evident in sculpture and stainedglass as it is in textual criticism. 71 A second example is the social and political context for Aquinas's work. This means not his political theory itself but how the social and political movements of the time influenced the theological forms throughout his work. The iconography of the Sainte-Chapelle is an interesting place to study St. Louis IX's image of himself in salvation-history and his rivalry with For a summary see G. van Ackeren, Sacra Doctrina (Rome, 1952). Summa Theol., 1, q. 1, aa. 2, 3. Weisheipl describes the academic culture of Aquinas's career in Paris with painstaking detail; op. cit., pp. 53-139. 71 B. Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages (Oxford, 1952); W. Hinnebusch, "Dominican Biblical Studies," The History . .. , pp. 99 fl'.; Chenu, Toward . .. , c. VII; Panofsky, Gothic Architecture . .. , pp. 6, 91; C. M. Dvorak, Idealismus und Naturalismus in der gothischen Skulptur und Malerei (Munich, 1918); The Year 1200, 2 vols. (New York, 1970); K. Flasch, "Ars imitatur naturam, Platonischer N aturbegrifl' und mittelalterliche Philosophie der Kunst," Studien zur Philosophie Platona (Frankfurt, 1964); L. White, "Natural Science and Naturalistic Art in the Middle Ages," The American Historical Review, 52 (1947), 421 fl'.; A. Forest, La Structure metaphysique du concret selon S. Thomas d'Aquin (Paris, 1956); E. Auerbach, Dante, Poet of the Secular World (Chicago, 69 70 1961). 722 THOMAS F. O'MEARA papal influence. Aquinas was involved with all three camps struggling for decisive power in the thirteenth century: student and teacher in Louis's capital, relative to the Emperor, theologian and political theoretician to the papacy. Yet, why do the merchants and the new urban middle class play such a limited role in Aquinas's thought? Did the Dionysian, hierarchical writings exert a strongly conservative political influence in the organization of both church and state? It is striking that the Secunda Pars ends not with activities but with states of life. There Aquinas comes dose to identifying office (ministry) with a social role and life-style in a theology of ministry which neither the New Testament nor our times can readily accept. And yet, it is a normal cultural and theological realization for his epoch. We have .stressed harmony-within-diversity as a thoughtform. A third cultural factor related to this as its flesh and blood is the synthetic interpenetration which Aquinas and his entire society wove out of the spheres of "nature" and "grace." His time saw a single world grounded not on ontology or science (as real as these might be) but upon a dialectic between grace and evil. This dialectic was both origin and ground for man and angels, for science and history. Into that single view all the essences and persons, the choirs of the angels and the signs of the zodiac, all principles and logical nuances could be fitted. The result of the re-entry of Aristotle's realism was not to set up a dual world (theologians will ineptly accomplish that later) but to highlight the entities and facets which compose our one world. This real and individual world ultimately is delineated by grace. As God, as the Spirit, as the Hypostatic Union, as the New Law, grace surrounds not a forward-moving Teilhardian line, but, for the thirteenth century, the ellipse of life manifest on earth and in society in areas of vertical order. This one world art and theology both wished to freeze for a moment-in the facade, in the rose window, in the tympanum, or in the disputation, in the Summa. THOMAS F. O'MEARA, Aquinas Institute of Theology Dubuque, Iowa 0. P. CHARISM AND INSTITUTION IN AQUINAS I N THE YEARS approaching the Second Vatican Council the great Dominican Yves Cougar spoke of one of the difficulties of the generation as a false mystique among many Christians-" The notion of a complete identification of God's will with the institutional form of authority." 1 It is one of the blessings of the Catholic community that, in large part, it has moved away from that notion. Even some Protestants, anxious over the loosening of the social fabric, occasionally echo the misgivings of those Catholics who lament this change; they ask why so effective a theology of authority has been abandoned. The fact is, of course, that a new generation of Catholics has enlivened its awareness of a variously manifested charismatic presence of the Spirit in its midst. We measure our progress in the valuing of charisms only in terms of recent history because it would be enough to read St. Thomas Aquinas on the relation of charism to the institutional form of authority to become aware that, in some measure, our finest contemporary insights are matched in his vision. What differences there are can help us assess the strengths and the perils of today's ruling views. There are differences, of course. One searches in vain for Thomistic texts on the Church as institution. Discussions on law, obedience, grace, the Incarnation, or the Sacraments would be the appropriate contexts; but these do not yield the conception familiar to us as the institutional Church, such as gained currency in the De Ecclesia treatises which entered the literary tradition of theology as a reaction to the Gallicanism of the early fourteenth century: And yet, the mystery of the Church 1 " The Historical Development of Authority in the Church," Problems of Authority, ed. John M. Todd, (Baltimore: Helicon, 196:'!), pp. 119-56, at p. 14J. 2 Yves Cougar, Lay People in the Chmch (Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1957), p. 37. 723 724 EMERO STIElGMAN is at the heart of Thomas's thought. Charism, too, is not a Thomistic term; we read, instead, of gratiae gratis datae (gratuitous graces) . Both authority in the Church and gratia gratis data are treated extensively in the Summa Theologiae in the final section of the Prima Secundae, qq. 90-114, devoted to consideration of the extrinsic principles of human acts. The extrinsic principle of good actions is God, who moves us to what is good in two ways: by law (qq. 90-108) which directs us and by grace (qq. 109-114) which assists us. We have, then, two treatises, on law and on grace. I. On law (institution) . Rather than envision the Church as a kind of society whose institution and structures are due to divine positive law (ius divinum), St. Thomas reflects upon the nature and exercise of law in general and sets what we call institutional elements in the Church into this context. His inspiration moves away from present-day controversies as to whether these institutional elements are simply developments in accord with a divine commission (ius ecclesiasticum) or whether they are specific posi.,. tive divine laws (ius divinum) .3 He seeks instead, wherever possible, points of convergence between reason and faith-between Aristotle and the Scriptures. Law, he tells us, is something pertaining to reason (I-II, q. 90, a. 1); it is always directed to the common good (a. 2); it is made either by the whole people or by a public personage who has care of the whole people (a. 3). However, besides the natural and the human law it was necessary for the directing of human conduct to have a divine law, for man's eternal end is beyond the proportions of his natural faculty (q. 91, aa. 1-4). The divine law is twofold, the Old Law and the New Law, and this precisely because priesthood has been translated-from the Ievitical priesthood to the priesthood of Christ 3 See, for example, Karl Rahner, " Reflections on the Concept of ' ius divinum ' in Catholic Thought," Theological Investigations, V (Baltimore: Helicon, 1966), pp. 219-43. CHARISM AND INSTITUTION IN AQUINAS 725 (a. 5). This New Law is chiefly the grace itself of the Holy Spirit; as such it is written in the heart. But .secondarily the New Law has things that dispose us to receive this grace; hence it is also a written law (q. 106, a. 1). Christ of himself instituted the Sacraments, says Thomas; and among the .seven are" Orders of the ministers of the New Law, by the institution of the Apostles and the seventy-two disciples" (q. 108, a. 2). To the objection that the New Law was insufficiently determinate Thomas answers: " Our Lord left judicial precepts to the discretion of those who were to have spiritual or temporal charge of others" (a. 2 ad 4). Considering the visible Church, with St. Thomas, in the frame of law affords possibilities for discovering the ultimate promise, legitimacy, and necessity of its societal dimensions-finer possibilities than will arise from the mere facticity that seems at times to he associated with the concept of institution. For example, the absence of discussion under some such rubric as "ecclesiastical law" occasions the perception that ecclesiastical law is merely an area of human law, but that as such it is a determination of natural law/ which is a participation in eternal law (.see I-II, q. 91, and II-II, q. 147, a. 3, concl.). This proliferation of distinctions in the Scholastic manner is, of course, far removed from the inclinations of present-day thinking. But long after the distinctions have lost their savor, they may still make clear that " a complete identification of God's will with the institutional form of authority" 5 could never claim the support of St. Thomas. Authority is studied carefully in the Summa. It belongs to the political order, which is natural to man (I-II, q. 72, a. 4). The fact, then, that society spawns those who command and those who obey should be attributed, not to human • St. Thomas's concept of natural law seems in no way to lend support to the immense confidence of some in the possibilities of human reason to arrive at knowledge of the particular-a confidence which is assumed in later Scholastic casuistry. See the remarks on the limitations of reason in relation to human law, at I-II, q. 91, a. 8. • Cougar's useful formulation. See note 1, above. EMERO STH1GMAN sinfulness, but to the necessity of assuring the common good. The naturalness of this situation was presented in Aristotle's Politics (I, q. 96, a. 4), and it may be reasoned according to a proper concept of law: "Just as the actions of natural things proceed from natural powers ... so in human affairs also the higher must move the lower by their will in virtue of a divinely established authority .... In virtue of the order of natural and divine law, inferiors are bound to obey their superiors" (II-II, q. 104, a. 1). The normal exercise of authority, then, assumes a vertical operation in which superiority is conceived formally as the authority divinely givennot, however, in independence of spiritual gifts possessed by the one in authority. "If one man surpassed another in knowledge and virtue, this would not have been fitting unless these gifts conduced to the benefit of others, according to 1 Pet. 4: 10, 'As every man hath received grace, ministering the same one to another.' Wherefore Augustine says (De Civ. Dei, 19.14): 'Just men command not by the love of domineering, but by the service of counsel.' And (ibid. 15), 'The natural order of things requires this; and thus did God make man'" (I, q. 96, a. 4). So balanced a conception of authority suggests one reason why, in our day, Robert Maynard Hutchins speaks of the Summa (at I-II, qq. 90-108) as "that greatest of all books on the philosophy of law." 6 Before this, by force of the same treatise, F. Kern (possibly with a surplus of ardor) pronounced Aquinas "unquestionably the best student of civilization." 7 Interesting that in seeking out what Thomas has to say on the institutional aspect of the Church we should encounter the "philosophy of law" and the" student of civilization" ! Granting, of course, that under the rubric of law we encounter much more than this-for example, a theology of the New Law-it 6 St. Thomas and the World State (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1949), p. 38. From p. 45, n. 3, it is clear that Hutchins, speaking of "the Treatise on Law," refers to this section of the Summa. • See Humana Civilitas (Staat, Kirche, und Kultur): Eine Dante Untersuchung (Leipzig, 1913), p. l!'l!'l; cited by Martin Grabmann, Introduction to the Theological Summa of St. Thomas (St. Louis, Mo.: Herder, 1930), p. 175. CHARISM AND INSTITUTION IN AQUINAS 727 becomes evident that institution and the authority that is associated with it do not exhaust the saint's concept of that saving mystery which is the Church. II. On Gratia gratis data (Charism) . Besides the authority of law, seen in the institutional Church, is there not an authority that springs from charism? The charismata spoken of in I Cor. 12:8-10 are considered by St. Thomas in a general way in his division of grace (I-II, q. ll1, aa. 1, 4, 5), later in a particular way for each of the nine charismata enumerated (II-II, qq. 171-179), in the context of the Incarnation at III, q. 7, and again in his commentary on 1 Cor. Hl (cf. R. Garrigou-Lagrange, De Revelatione, I, p. 209). Most of what interests us here is contained in the treatise on grace (I-II, qq. 109-ll4) immediately following the treatise on law with which we have just occupied ourselves. Created grace, we are told, is either internal or external; internal grace is such thing as preaching, good example, and opportunities for good action. The appropriateness of the division of grace into sanctifying grace and gratuitous grace (gratia gratis data) is studied at I-II, q. ll1 a. 1. This first article endeavors to explain the text of 1 Cor. 12: 8-ll, where St. Paul enumerates nine graces gratis datae, followed by the great hymn to charity in I Cor. 13: 8 To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of Wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. All these are inspired by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills. 8 This observation, obvious enough once attention is called to it-for example, by Garrigou-Lagrange---is of much significance. See Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, 0. P. Grace: Commentary on the Summa theologica of St. Thomas, I• II••, qu. 109-14 (St. Louis, Mo.: Herder, 1952), pp. 150-51. 728 EMERO STIEGMAN And I will show you a still more excellent way. If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging symbol. And if I have prophetic powers, etc. (1 Cor. 12: 8 ff.) St. Thomas concludes: " Thus there is a twofold grace-one whereby man himself is united to God, and this is called sanctifying grace [cf. love in 1 Cor.]; the other is that whereby one man cooperates with another in leading him to God, and this gift is called gratuitous grace [cf. charismata in 1 Cor.], since it is bestowed on a man beyond the capability of nature, and beyond the merit of the person" (I-II, q. 111, a. 1). Both kinds of grace are gratuitous, of course; but beyond the characteristic of gratis datay which is generic, sanctifying grace adds something: It makes man pleasing to God (a. 1, ad 8). The peculiar " authority " of charism would be, then, that it is the Spirit who, through this special gift, acts upon the community. Thomas notes (a. 1) the words of I Cor. 12:7, "the manifestations of the Spirit for the common good." The thought is made explicit in the comment of Garrigou-Lagrange: " Grace gratis data is per se primarily ordained to the salvation of others, or ' unto profit' [for the common good]. Sanctifying grace is per se primarily ordained to the salvation of the recipient, whom it justifies." 9 However, in one sense, the more a grace destined for the community as such is disassociated from the individual through whom it is mediated, the more immediately awareness of its origin is communicated. Then the Spirit is seen to move in the Church. Thomas, however, is not intent upon expanding the phenomenon of charism in the Church. Just as St. Paul cautioned the Corinthians not to conceive a false esteem for astonishing graces, not to covet any but the charismata meliora, but to follow the more excellent way of love, so Thomas is careful to set strict conceptual boundaries to his gratiae gratis datae. (The Thomistic use of Scripture here is certainly not ornamental.) An unusual gift of nature would be outside such • Grace, p. 152. CHARISM AND INSTITUTION IN AQUINAS 729 boundaries; it belongs to human nature ex debito (a. 1, ad 2). The nine charismata enumerated by St. Paul are argued to be an exhaustive catalogue (see also De Revelationes I, p. 29) . They are divided as they pertain to knowledge, to speech, or to action (II-II, qq. 171-79) . Garrigou-Lagrange notes that the division corresponds to the division of miracles in I, q. 105, a. 8. Like miracles, the gratiae gratis datae are generally supernatural only with respect to the mode of their production. 10 Many commentators, however, believe that the catalogue in 1 Cor. 12 is an enumeration merely of the principal graces gratis datae.11 Suarez, for example, adds the priestly character, jurisdiction in the internal forum, and the special assistance given to the Pope. 12 Today Karl Rahner speaks of " the charism of infallibility," considering this as "the divine grace of the office which is needed for its right exercise." 18 III. Charism in a Broader Sense This enlarging of the concept of charism seems, indeed, to be sanctioned in precisely the Scriptural text of which Aquinas's discussion is an elucidation. St. Paul tells us that in distributing his charismata " God has appointed in the Church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, then healers, helpers, administrators, speakers in various kinds of tongues" (1 Cor. 12: 28). Broadly speaking, Thomas himself provides the rationale for an enlarged view of gratiae gratis datae when he includes among them" whatever a man needs ... to instruct" (I-II, q. 111, a. 4) . But the fact remains that, in dividing all internal grace into sanctifying and gratis data, he seems to move in the direction of restricting gratiae gratis datae rather severely. These gifts are not only not sanctifying (per se and primarily) of the recipient, they are in no way due to human nature and are supernatural in mode only. When we Grace, pp. 158-59. Garrigou-Lagrange cites Medina, Vasquez, Bellarmine, Suarez, and Ripalda. See Grace, p. 154. 19 Quoted by Garrigou-Lagrange, Grace, p. 154. 18 See "The Episcopal Office," in Theological Investigations, VI (Baltimore: Helicon, 1969), pp. 313-60, at p. 316. 10 11 730 EMERO STIEGMAN have sifted the notion of divine grace through this grid of distinctions, have we not been discouraged from perceiving those individual talents which may be natural in substance or modality as the Spirit's gift to the Church? I have pointed out that Aquinas's direction here matches in some way the cautions which St. Paul himself communicates to the Christian Church regarding charismata. If the circumstances which Paul was addressing conditioned his manner, the circumstances of Thomas's milieu are likewise a determinant of his thought. Chenu rightly asks us to consider the work of St. Thomas as expressing the experience of the medieval Church. During the Middle Ages the ecclesiastical institution included and formed human society. From the eleventh century on the established direction was a strong centrism. "Underlying the most novel political problems was the mystical vision of resurrecting the Roman Empire with its universal political ideal." 14 The " Renaissance " of the period moves on the hinges not only of Aristotle's entrance into the University of Paris in the thirteenth century but also of the entrance of Roman law at Bologna in the twelfth. 15 After the death of Thomas and Bonaventure it will become difficult to keep legal values in balance, and treatises on the Church will, as Cougar remarks, have the character of "a theology of ecclesiastical authority," or of a "Hierarchology." 16 But excesses were not yet manifest, and Thomas valued and exercised that mystical prayer which, before the rise of Scholasticism, had been thought of as the essence of theologia. The Christian experience expressed in his theology did not deal in authority to the exclusion of spiritual gifts. His age felt authority to be a manifestation of divine care for the Church. It did not seem necessary to locate such care strictly outside those forces which held society together. 17 14 M.-D. Chenu, 0. P., Toward Understanding Saint Thomas (Chicago: Regnery, 1964)' p. 25. Chenu, p. 26. Yves Congar, Lay People in the Church, pp. 88-89. 17 Chenu (Toward Understanding Saint Thomas) and Cougar are of immense 15 16 CHARISM AND INSTITUTION IN AQUINAS 781 Noting, with many observers, the fact that Thomas's theologizing is rooted in experience, we can here call attention once again to a certain distinction between Thomas and Thomism. The genius transcends the school. To study creation in terms of law is, it would seem, to cast creation in essentialist modes of thought at variance with much of our contemporary awareness. It would, indeed, be unobjective to claim for Aquinas, with his Aristotelian bent, the perspective of today's Process thinkers; nevertheless, no one more than the Process theologian will appreciate the merit of viewing "institution" in terms of law as revealed in experience. 18 Thomas's law has a dynamism that commends it beyond the static essentialism characterizing the Thomism of a later era; it escapes as well, as I have said, the merely factual nature of institution. And let me insist that the intent of these observations is neither to build an apology for a supposed golden age of theology nor to extol the genius of Aquinas but rather to offer the hopefully useful reflection that our present-day views of authority in the Chur.ch were in some way parallelled and are therefore seconded in Aquinas's thought. Then as well as now, God is seen as revealing himself in the flux of human experience. As it is the experience of the Church today that a consciousness of the Spirit at work in the whole Church needs to be reinforced, so it was the Christian experience of the late Middle Ages that a consciousness of the Spirit's presence in authority needed to be strengthened. One need emphasizes charism, the other institution. Each emphasis has its hazards. We have been able to point help in understanding the state of thought about the Church in St. Thomas's day. See Cougar on the mystique of authority and on political theology in Problems of Authority, pp. 139-43; also, "The Idea of the Church in St. Thomas Aquinas," in The Mystery of the Church (London, 1960), pp. 97-117. 18 See E. H. Schillebeeckx, 0. P ., "The Second Vatican Council," in The Layman in the Church and Other Essays (New York: Alba House, 1963), pp. The majority-minority tension at the Council, thinks Schillebeeckx, was not so much a progressive-conservativ·e tension as an existentialist-essentialist one, where pastoml experience encountered and resisted inclinations to articulate the faith more exactly in definitions (pp. 9-10). EMERO STIEGMAN to a "Hierarchology" as the danger of stressing the institutional dimension of the Church. But long ago the great Thomist Cajetan was also able to unmask a tendency that thought of charism as "more spiritual" than legitimate authority. 19 Today we broaden the notion of charism, moving away from an extrinsicist view of the relation of nature and grace as two separate layers of our being; so that what is broadened is our concept of the scope of God's salvific action in the human race. The roots of this thought are what is referred to as Transcendental Thomism. 2° Catholic insights on the relation of grace and nature, says Rahner, resemble the thought of St. Thomas more closely than they resemble later theologizing. We repeat Thomas's concept of a "desiderium naturale visionis beatificae "-an expression that witnesses to an era which not only antedated more precise terminology but also thought more deeply about uncreated grace than did post- Tridentine theology.21 But if we should discover in ourselves an inclination to oppose charism to institution, considering one as the touchstone of the Spirit to the excluding or diminishing of the other, will we not have discovered how dimly possessed is the insight in the strength of which we broaden the sense of charism? Conclusion The following assertions may sum up our presentation: (1) There are useful associations to be made concerning the fact that Aquinas treats our present-day dichotomy of charism and institution under the rubrics of gratuitous grace and law. (2) He does not separate the institutional form of authority from other gifts of the Spirit. The model may be found in the Scriptural text which presents the charisms (1 Cor. ; this model is St. Paul himself, who takes his stand, not on his juriSee Garrigou-Lagrange, Grace, pp. 16fl-63. •• See a brief discussion of the meaning, origins, and recent history of Transcendental Thomism in Gregory Baum, Man Becoming: God in Secular Experience (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), pp. fl5-fl7. 21 This summarizes a reflection of Karl Raimer in Nature and Grace (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), pp. 119-flfl. 19 CHARISM AND INSTITUTION IN AQUINAS 733 dical rights but on his spiritual gifts. 22 (3) In the Summa the description given of charism is more restrictive than in our time. In this Thomas is led by the cautions of St. Paul to the Corinthian Church and by the experience of the medieval Church. (4) Both charism and institution are given for the community. They stand in balance, not in antagonism. Both are manifestations of the one Spirit. EMERO STIEGMAN Saint Mary's University Halifax, Nova Scotia 90 This is the reflection of Congar in Problems of Authority, p. TRANSUBSTANTIATION 1 I F IT IS TRUE that God has loved the world so much that he has given to it the bodily presence of his Only Son, may we not conclude that he will love the world enough to leave to it the bodily presence of this same Only Son? From the opposite point of view, when the intellect acknowledges the mystery of the Incarnation, yet takes exception to the belief of Chalcedon, how could it reject the mystery of the Eucharist, but fail to challenge the teaching of Trent? I. The Why of Transubstantiation " The bread that I shall give is my flesh, for the life of the world." (John 6:51) 1. Scripture sees in the death of Jesus the supreme sacrifice, in which the redemption of the world is accomplished: " He gave himself for us as an offering and a sacrifice to God" (Eph. 5: "He has offered one single sacrifice for sins, and then taken his place forever at the right hand of God" (Heb. 10: "We were reconciled to God by the death of his Son" (Rom. 5: 10). "God has reconciled all things through him, in making peace through the blood of his Cross" (Col. 1: The redemptive sacrifice extends to all men of the past and the future; it saved the preceding ages by anticipation: the divine helps were offered to each person in view of the future sacrifice of the Cross. And by derivation it saved the ages that followed it: the divine helps are now given through the completed sacrifice of the Cross. "And when I am lifted up from the earth, . I shall draw all men to myself" (Jn. Into this sacrifice men are asked to enter: not indeed to increase its value, which is infinite, but to receive from it its purifying power. 1 Summa Theol., ill, q. 75, a. 734 TRANSUBSTANTIATION 735 Fundamentally, we enter into participation of the sacrifice of Jesus by the assent of faith and love-of the great love which is charity. And, where the Gospel has not been preached, that can take place in a most hidden way; as soon as a heart opens in secret to the predisposing and redemptive lights of the Cross. But the express intention of God, as manifested in Scripture, is especially to invite all men to a visible and cultural participation in the sacrifice of the Cross, a participation in no way destined to dismiss faith or love, but rather to draw their unitive capabilities to the highest degrees. In the Old Law there existed a form of sacrifice to which the Jews united themselves, not simply by intention but even more by the personal eating of the victim, to signify that one was offering himself together with victim. " Those who eat the sacrifices are in communion with the altar" (I Cor. 10: 18) . Such sacrifices were called " sacrifices of communion." 3. The sacrifice of the New Law is to be of this kind. The Savior's intention is clear. There is nothing fortuitous in the coincidence of the Last Supper with the Jewish Feast of Passover. It means that the Jewish Passover must give way to a more mysterious Passover that it was prefiguring. The Jewish Passover was the sacrificial offering of a lamb to which one united himself by eating it, in recognition of God's goodness in delivering his people from the captivity of Egypt so as to enable them to enter the Promised Land. It prefigured the sacrificial offering of Christ, the spotless Lamb (I Peter 1: 19). To this sacrifice we are united by communion, and by it mankind is delivered from sin and introduced to the peace of God. The Council of Trent tells us that, after having celebrated the ancient Passover, Christ instituted the new Passover: "in memory of his passage from this world to the Father, when he redeemed us by the shedding of his blood, he rescued us from the power of darkness, and brought us into his kingdom " (Denz.-Sch. no. 1741). The connection between the Last Supper and the Jewish Passover is clearly indicated in Scripture. At nightfall Jesus said to his disciples: "I have longed to eat this passover with you before I suffer" (Lk. 22: 15) . And St. Paul exhorts the 786 CHARLES CARDINAL JOURNET Corinthians to purify themselves from sin at the approach of the festival of Passover: " for Christ, our Passover, has been sacrificed " (I Cor. 5: 7) But is a "sacrifice of communion " possible, when the Lamb has taken the place of the lamb? 4. We are coming close to the answer to the question we have raised, that of the why of Transubstantiation. There is but one sacrifice through which we may be saved, and that is the bloody sacrifice of the Cross. It had already begun when Jesus instituted the Last Supper, "on the night in which he It was completed on the Cross, was betrayed" (I Cor. 11: where "all is accomplished" (Jn. 19: 30) . At the Last Supper, in order that the Apostles might unite themselves to this sacrifice, not only by faith and love but even more by partaking of the victim, Jesus deliberately makes himself mysteriously present under the appearances of bread and wine and gives himself to them as food. He wishes to be eaten by the Apostles at the very moment of his gr:eat desire to save the world by his sacrifice; at the very moment in which he is being consumed by the fire he wishes to light on the earth (Lk. 49) . And he who eats a desire is consumed by this desire; he who eats fire is consumed by the fire. 5. The sacrifice by which all mankind is redeemed is a " sacrifice of communion." It continues from the Last Supper to the death on the Cross. At the moment of the Last Supper we are shown how we can participate in it by consumption of the victim. At the moment of the death on the Cross WJe see in what we are participating by consuming what is concealed under the appearances of bread and wine. "The Lord's Banquet," yes, but one calculated to immerse us actively in "the Lord's Sacrifice." II. Transubstantiation " Do this as a memorial of me." (Lk. 19) 1. The holy Council of Trent teaches and professes " that, TRANSUBSTANTIATION 737 after the consecration of the bread and wine, our Lord Jesus Christ, true God and true man, is contained truly, really, and substantially under the likeness (specie) of these sensible things. There is actually no contradiction between the fact that our Lord is forever seated at the right hand of the Father in heaven according to the manner of existence natural to him, and the fact that for us, nevertheless, he is, in numerous other places, sacramentally present in his substance, according to a manner of existence that we scarcely find words to express, but which our understanding, enlightened by faith, can at the same time acknowledge, and which we must firmly believe to be a thing possible to God" (Denz.-Sch. no. 1686) . And this is the corresponding canon, promulgated on the same date, October 11, 1551: "If anyone should deny that in the Sacrament of the most holy Eucharist ar:e contained truly, really, and substantially, the body and blood, soul and divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and consequently the whole Christ, but if one declares that they are present only by sign or figure or by power, let him be anathema" (ibid., no. 1651). 2. We are speaking of one single Christ, present in heaven after the Ascension under his proper and natural appearances, who, without leaving heaven, or changing in any way, or losing any of his splendor, makes himself present, as he does here below under the very humble appearances of bread and wine, when the words of consecration are pronounced. We insist on this point: it is accomplished without his leaving heaven. To imagine Christ departing from heaven in order to make himself present in the small hosts consecrated by the priest would lead us to manifest impossibilities. But would departure be the only manner of arriving really at a place where one was not formerly present? 8. There does exist a most mysterious way that would permit a being, without undergoing a shadow of change, to arrive, in a most profound manner, where he had not been previously. It is primarily thus that God makes himself present in his creation, the Word in the Incarnation, the Holy Spirit in justification. Let us examine this manner of presence rather briefly. 738 CHARLES CARDINAL JOURNET God was not in the world before the world existed. Divine omnipotence was necessary in some fashion to draw the world out of nothingness; it is still necessary to maintain the world in existence. What a reality is this creative and conservative presence of God to the world! It operates without the possibility of the slightest ripple appearing in the Ocean of the divine Being. The world began in dependence on God, and God in no way depends upon the world; the theologians express this by stating that there is a real relation of dependence of the world on God, but that the opposite is not true. We can underscore the freedom and generosity of God's initiative by stating that he has created by an act of his omnipotence; but, in order to remind ourselves that this act has changed nothing in him, we must have recourse to some sort of image as: God has, as it were, summoned the world to himself; he has, so to speak, breathed it forth out of nothingness. A parallel of this is to be encountered in the mystery of the Incarnation. Without leaving the right hand of the Father, the Word was made flesh, so that he might dwell among us; he made his own the human nature that was formed in the womb of the Virgin Mary. Preexisting together with the Father, he begins to exist outside the Father, without changing, in a human nature, by drawing this human nature to himself, by assuming it-the term employed by theology-in such a way that it is he, the Word, who really, personally, will be born, crucified, who will rise in this human nature. This is the only means in which the mystery of the Incarnation is rendered possible; and it is not at all as a contradiction of this truth that in the Creed we acknowledge that the Word, " for us and for our salvation, came down from heaven." Rather, it is to glorify the utter freedom of his initiative and to adore with St. Paul the humiliations which it will entail (Phil. . Finally, there is the further parallel in the mystery of justification. When a man passes from the life of sin to the life of grace, the Holy Spirit descends on him, the divine Persons draw near him: " If anyone loves me ... my Father will love him, TRANSUBSTANTIATION 739 and we shall come to him and make our home with him" (Jn. 14: 23) What a transformation this works in the heart of this man! But the change takes place only in him: if from within your boat you pull on the mooring rope, you may believe that the cliff is approaching you. A presence of creation in the universe, a presence of indwelling in souls and in the Church, a presence of Incarnation in Christ, head of the Church: these three presences are thoroughly real, but in each the change is uniquely that of things to God, and not inversely. One who has not reflected on these three mysteries is incapable of understanding anything of the mode of Christ's presence in the Eucharist. 4. For,-and her.ein lies the mystery proper to the Eucharist-when the words of consecration are pronounced, Christ, seated at the right hand of the Father, becomes wholly present here below-in his body, his blood, his soul and divinitywithout any change of his being, but with the sole, utterly profound, change into him of bread and wine. "The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said: ' This is my body, which is for you; do this as a memorial of me'" (I Cor. 11: 23-24). The whole of divine omnipotence brings about what the words signify. What was bread becomes the body of the Lord Jesus, who, on the evening of the Last Supper, offered himself in the redemptive sacrifice which then began, of that Jesus who now sits in the glory of the Father: his body is indissolubly united to the divine Person, it is the body of the Word incarnate. If we were to delimit the translation as narrowly as possible, we would have: "This is the very body of mine ... This is the very blood of mine . ... " It is folly to separate, in the Eucharist as in the Incarnation, bodily presenee and personal presence. The literal sense of the words demands that what Jesus presents to his disciples should no longer be bread but only his body. Yet nothing is changed as far as appearances go: this is a truth of experience. Weight, color, taste, resistance to 740 CHARLES CARDINAL JOURNET touch, properties and functions, remain the same. The senses that perceive only phenomena continue without deception to perceive bread and wine; but to these appearances is communicated a new, non-perceptible, reality, of which faith alone permits us to be aware, namely, that the power of the words of consecration has not annihilated but rather converted the bread and wine into the body and blood of Jesus. Let us consider for a moment the things about us. To us they appear structured. Under the empirical activities which manifest them exteriorly in space and time and by which they affect our senses, the human intellect spontaneously discerns what is its proper object, namely, being, substance, the existing subject which sustains them. These empirical activities are by nature inseparable from the subject that they disclose; but they are distinct from it, they; are not confused with it. Only an intervention of the Omnipotence by which all things have been made could disunite them. And this miracle is precisely what occurs in the Eucharist. What is it then that takes place at the moment of consecration? The empirical activities, the externals, or the sensible appearances of bread are not touched. The inmost being of the bread-of this mixture which is bread-is detached from it by the effect of divine omnipotence, so as not to be annihilated but " changed," " converted " into the body of the Lord, who, according to the manner of existence that is proper and natural to him, dwells unchanged in heaven, but who, by this fact, is moreover made present under the borrowed appearances of bread. There are not two Christs, but two modes of presence of the one Christ: one " natural," in the glory of heaven, the other" sacramental, under the veil of the externals or empirical activities of bread. "This," which WAS bread, IS now the body of the Lord. And what enveloped the bread, now envelops the body of the Lord. Only the veil of the appearances separates us from the radiance of his glory. 5. There is, at the end of the Mass in the Coptic rite of Alexandria, the following solemn profession of faith in the Real Presence: TRANSUBSTANTIATION 741 "Amen, Amen, Amen, I believe, I believe, I believe. To the last br:eath of my life, I will confess that this is the life-giving body of your Only Son, our Lord and our God, of our Savior Jesus Christ. He has taken this body from our Lady and our Queen, the most pure Mother of God. He has united it to his divinity without mingling, fusion, or alteration. . . . I believe that his divinity has never, for a single instant, been separated from his humanity. It is he who is given to us for the remission of sins, for eternal life and eternal salvation! I believe, I believe, I believe that all this is true!" 6. For one who rejects transubstantiation and affirms the persistence of the bread, what are the words of consecration going to signify? Their sense will no longer be: "This, which was bread, is my body," but: "This, which is br:ead, which remains bread, is my body; " " This, which I hold in my hands to offer to you, TOGETHER WITH my body, are both ONE." According to this view, the body of Christ, superimposed on the bread, in some manner affects it, " eclipses " it, " takes it to itself," fuses togther with it, is identified with it. How are we to understand this identification? Luthe1· understood it in a real way: the very body of Christ suffuses itself within the bread, is encountered under every fragment of the bread: "Although the body and the bread are two different natures, each directed to itself, and although, when they are separated from one another, the one certainly is not the other, when they are reunited and become a new complete being, they lose their differences in all that pertains to this new, unique, being .... For now it is no longer a simple matter of bread in the oven, but of bread-flesh, bread-body, that is, of bread become one single sacramental thing with the body of Christ." 2 For Calvin, the bread is here below, and the body of Christ is in heaven. Their identification can thus be only one of the • Oeuvres, VI, pp. 127-8 (Labor et Fides: Geneve, 1969). This treatise: Confession about the Last Supper of Christ, which dates from 1528, " constitutes the last word of Luther in his controversy with Zwingli and his school," ibid, p. 7. 742 CHARLES CARDINAL JOURNET order of sign- (before the reredos of Grunewald at Colmar you say to me: Behold, Christ in glory.) Calvin writes: "We must not seek Jesus Christ, insofar as he is man, anywhere but in heaven; nor dare we seek him in any other way but in spirit and faith. Hence, it is a wicked and perv.erse superstition to enclose him under the elements of this world. Therefore we reject as bad expositors of Scripture those who rigorously insist on the literal sense of these words: This is my body, this is my blood. For we hold as generally known that these words must be interpreted sanely and with discretion: that is, that the names of what the bread and wine signify are attributed to them. And this view must not be found novel or strange, that, by a figure called metonymy, the sign bears the name of the truth of which it is a figure, seeing that such modes of speaking are more frequent in Scripture." 3 It is Luther, even more than the Catholics, whom Calvin blames in this matter: " But we do not consider it less of an absurdity to enclose Jesus Christ under the bread, or to conjoin him to the bread, than to say that the bread may be transubstantiated into his body." 4 It detracts from the heavenly glory of Christ, 5 and from his Ascension. 6 7. In its second Canon, the Council of Trent has rejected the thesis which claims " that, in the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist, the substance of bread and wine remains together with the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and which denies this marvelous and singular conversion of the entire substance of the bread into the body and the entire substance o£ • Accord passed and concluded touching the matter of the Sacraments between the Ministers of the Church of Zurich and Master John Calvin, Minister of the Church of Geneva, August 1, 1549, in Recueil des Opuscules (Geneve, 1566), p. • Ibid. 5 Ibid. 6 " Far from resting on an identity between sign and signified, the Sacrament of the Eucharist adds to the relation between sign and signified the relation of cause to effect and assumes the intervention of the First Cause, who produces the most radical change that can be conceived, a change that attains to being as being." .J. Maritain, Signe et Symbole, in Quatre Essais sur l'esprit dans sa condition charnelle (Paris, 1939), p. 89. TRANSUBSTANTIATION 743 the wine into the blood; which does not acknowledge that there subsists only the appearances of the bread and wine,manentibus dumtaxat speciebus panis et vini-a conversion that the Catholic Church calls by the very appropriate name of transubstantiation" (Denz.-Sch. no. 1652) . Jesus did not say: This contains my body; nor: This signifies my body. He did say: This is my body. III. The Bodily Presence of Jesus " Could you not stay awake with me for even an hour? " (Matthew 26: 40) 1. Without transubstantiation there would be in the Eucharist only bTead and wine, by means of which we might seek to be united to Christ, present only in heaven. Transubstantiation alone makes possible our union with Christ's sacrifice, not simply by faith and love but even more by the consumption of the victim, present under the sacramental signs: " He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me, and I live in him" (Jn. 6: 56) . The union by eating and assimilation, wherein the living being changes into himself what he consumes, is the most intimate union observable in the world of sensible things. If this is willed here by Christ,-yet, in that case, it will be he, the Living Being, who does the assimilating-it is to make of this action, by his omnipotence, the sign and instrument of a contact in which, at every occurrence, the union of love of the fervent soul with the redemptive Passion can be deepened and intensified. These sensible encounters with the Savior are always brief. They last for the time of a liturgy, that of the Mass, where Christ in glory touches us through his bloody Cross; and the bodily presence of the Savior in those who ceive communion lasts but the space of time during which the sacramental species are still unaltered. But such visits are like flashes of fire. They invite us to follow the Apostles as on the evening of the Last Supper they •entered into the drama of the world's Redemption. 744 CHARLES CARDINAL JOURNET 2. If there be no transubstantiation, once the action of the eucharistic liturgy is completed, only bread remains on the altar table. After the accomplishment of the liturgical action, transubstantiation alone enables Christ, God-made-flesh, to be carried in communion to the absent and the sick, and to be conserved, with great reverence, so that he might be given for one last time in viaticum to the dying. 3. The passage of the centuries will manifest a constant progress made by the Church in its deepening awareness of the radiance cast on it by the silent, bodily, presence of Christ, its Head, under the sacramental sign. 4. Such a deepening awareness of Christ's bodily presence in our midst, such an intuitive and experiential knowledge of faith and love, will lead us to a more attentive study of the Gospel texts. We know Jesus' mysterious promise concerning the prayer that is certainly heard by the heavenly Father: "Where two or three are gather:ed together in my name, I am there in their midst" (Mt. 18: 20) . This is a promise that is valid until the end of time. It concerns a spiritual presence among us, in faith and love, of Jesus who is now in heaven and is bodily distant from us. But in this very presence an event can be produced to deepen fervor, and that is the bodily presence of Jesus. It was actually in the name of Jesus and in a spirit of faith and love that the anxious disciples gathered together in the Cenacle on Easter evening, all the doors being closed. But suddenly, "Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them: 'Peace be with you!' Saying this, he showed them his hands and his side" (Jn. 20: 19-20). "Eight days later, the disciples again were in the house, and Thomas was with them. The doors were closed but Jesus came in and stood among them and said: 'Peace be with you! ' Then he spoke to Thomas: 'Put your finger here; look, here are my hands; stretch out your hand and put it into my side: do not doubt any longer, but believe! Thomas replied: ' My Lord and my God!' " (20: 26-8) At Emmaus, on the very evening of Easter, "while he was TRANSUBSTANTIATION 745 at table with them, Jesus took the bread and said the blessing; then he broke it and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. But he vanished from their sight" (Lk. SO-l). It is the shock of this bodily presence, suddenly revealed and recognized, that Rembrandt in his own way attempts to communicate to us. The spiritual presence of Jesus accompanies and protects the disciples gathered in his name at the lakeshore of Tiberias. But, after a night of fruitless fishing, what bewilderment they felt when, at dawn, they suddenly recognized Jesus on the shore. "The disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter: 'It is the Lord! ' At these words: ' It is the Lord! ' Simon Peter clothed himself, for he was stripped, and jumped into the water" (Jn. 9ll: 7). 5. How strange is the conduct of Jesus at the time of the sickness and death of Lazarus! At Bethany, Lazarus was ill. "The two sisters thus sent word to Jesus: 'Lord, the man you love is ill. . . . Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. Yet, when he learned that Lazarus was ill, he remained for two more days at the place where he was. Only then did he say to the disciples: 'Let us go to Judea.' His disciples said to him: 'Rabbi, it is not long since the Jews wanted to stone you! are you going back again?'" (Jn. 11: S-9) The spiritual presence of Jesus to his friends in Bethany is intense. But why, after learning of the condition of Lazarus, does he prolong the separation? The reason he gives to his disciples is quite surprising: "Lazarus is dead, and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him " (14-15) . The Gospel continues: "When Martha learned of the arrival of Jesus, she went to meet him, while Mary remained sitting in the house. Martha said to Jesus: 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.'" Jesus did not deny it. "Then she went off to call her sister Mary. She whispered to her: ' The Master is here and wants to see you.' When Mary had heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. Jesus had not yet come into the village: he was still at the place where Martha had met him. . . . When Mary had 746 CHARLES CARDINAL JOURNET arrived at the place where Jesus was, she threw herself at his feet and said to him: ' L01·d, if you had been here 1 my brother would not be dead.' When Jesus saw her weeping, together with the Jews who had accompanied her, he groaned, and was troubled in spirit .... " (20-33) The mystery of what Christ's bodily presence can add to his spiritual presence of faith and love is here unveiled for us. The Evangelist of the Word-madeflesh unceasingly draws our attention to this point. 6. The bodily presence of Christ in glory is to be found even in the most unpretentious chapel, where he is waiting. And it remains true, in a sense, to say that he is there in agony until the end of the world, amid the storms of history, and that we dare not sleep during this time. Must a reproach still be directed to us: " So, you could not stay awake with me for even a hour? " (Mt. 26: 40) CHARLES CARDINAL JouRNET Grand Seminaire Fribourg, Switzerland NOTE ON THE REFORMABILITY OF DOGMATIC FORMULAS C AN DOGMATIC formulas-such as "one nature three persons," " one person two natures," " transubstantiation," etc.-be changed, or are they untouchable? The hitherto prevalent opinion among traditional theologians was that they are definitive and unchangeable. The recent Dec·laration of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith " in defence of the Catholic doctrine on the Church against certain errors of the present day," dated June 1973,' proposes an important change in the official doctrine on this point. I. A New Teaching In its section 5 on "The notion of the Church's infallibility not to be falsified," it is said first that dogmatic formulas of the Church's Magisterium "were from the beginning suitable for communicating revealed truth," and that " as they are, they remain forever suitable for communicating this truth to those who interpret them correctly." That is, the meaningfulness of these formulas is reaffirmed for the past as well as for the present and the future on condition however that they be " interpreted correctly " : this additional clause is not unimportant. For those who are unable to interpret the formulas correctly, they are no longer meaningful. More important is what follows: some changes were made by way of " suitable expository and explanatory additions " in order " to maintain and clarify their original meaning " : in such manner the ancient dogmatic formulas could " remain 1 AAS 65 (1973) 396-408. 747 748 P. DELETTER living and fruitful in the habitual usage of the Church." This means to say that the formulas needed explanation and interpretation in order to remain faithful to the original meaning. Shall we say that this is nothing else but the normal way of "dogmatic progress"? Under the pressure of deeper questioning and understanding arising partly from external changes and influences, partly from new philosophical linguistic or religious insights, " distinctions " were proposed to delimit a statement and narrow down the meaning of the terms so as to preclude misunderstanding. This is what happened, e. g., to the aphorism: Outside the Church no salvation: which has come to mean today: no salvation without (visible or invisible) connection with the Church. The Declaration goes on, and here it breaks new ground in official documents: " It has sometimes happened that in this habitual usage of the Church certain of these formulas gave way to new expressions which, proposed and approved by the Sacred Magisterium, presented m01'e clearly and more completely the same meaning." In other words, ancient dogmatic formulas were set aside and gave way to new expressions in order to keep the same meaning. We are here faced with a new official teaching, one which today is the crux of the rethinking of doctrine and dogma that is going on the Church. In order to maintain the same meaning in the expressions of the faith, it was necessary at times (and so may be necessary again) to replace the ancient dogmatic formulas by new expressions. The reason is obvious: the meaning of concepts and words evolves with the changing times. The accepted dogmatic formulas, because they are ancient, may fail to convey to our contemporaries the meaning they had for the people of the time when they were coined. They then should give way to new expressions. This was done at times in the past, the Declaration says, and the new expressions were " proposed and approved by the Sacred Magisterium." In the postVatican II time of rethinking dogma, initiated by the Council and continued in postconciliar theology, similar changes are likely to happen again. THE REFORMABILITY OF DOGMATIC FORMULAS 749 II. Changing dogmatic formulas and " dogmatic relativism" Some theologians may ask: Does the advocated change of dogmatic formulas include the danger and error of " dogmatic relativism " ? The phrase refers to what Pius XII had stigmatized as unacceptable more than twenty years ago, in the Encyclical Humani generis.2 The Declaration mentions the error, but not in reference to the proposed change but to something else. The proposed change of dogmatic formulas is based on the inherent inadequacy of every dogmatic formula, as explained in the Declaration. This results from two facts: first, every conceptual expression of a mystery remains " concealed by the veil of faith," it inevitably uses terms in an anological sense, there are no direct and proper concepts of what is mystery; second, every such expression of a mystery or dogma is placeand time-conditioned. For these reasons, what in the ancient dogmatic formulas was " first expressed incompletely (but not falsely)" can later receive" a fuller and more complete expression." But the meaning " remains ever true and constant in the Church." Dogmatic relativism is something different. It is mentioned in the Declaration to designate two opinions regarding the inability of dogmatic formulas to express revealed truth definitely. The first is described as stating that "dogmatic formulas cannot signify the truth in a determinate way, but can only offer changeabl.e approximations to it, which to a certain extent distort or alter it." The second says that dogmatic formulas "signify the truth only in an indeterminate way, this truth being like a goal that is constantly being sought by such approximations." It is these opinoons that involve dogmatic relativism. In fact, the above-mentioned inevitable inadequacy of dogmatic formulas does not mean to say that these formulas "to an extent distort and alter " the truth, i.e., are partly true and • AAS 42 (1950) 561-578. 750 P. DELETTER partly false (to say this implies dogmatic relativism) .3 No, the formulas express the truth incompletely but " not falsely" ; what they express is correct and true. But they can be completed by explanatory additions or even be replaced by a new way of expressing the truth, one which maintains the previous meaning or understanding (which was not false) but which states more clearly or fully the true meaning of the dogmatic formulas. As the Declaration puts it, "the meaning of dogmas ... is determinate and unalterable," i.e., while the formulation can be changed, the meaning cannot. Accordingly, to admit that dogmatic formulas can be perfected or even replaced by new expressions, while fully preserving the traditional meaning, is not dogmatic relativism. Nor is it the same as to say that truth is never reached but only changeable approximations to it are. Truth is reached, but only partially; what is stated is true but incomplete. Does the teaching of the Declaration imply that every dogmatic formula is perfectible and ever replaceable by another expression? Humani generis formerly seemed to say clearly that some dogmatic formulas are not r.eplaceable by another. 4 The Declaration insinuates this universal application of the new teaching without stating it explicitly. It only says that " certain of these formulas gave way to new expressions ... which presented more clearly and more completely the same meaning." This statement does not exclude that the same could happen to other, if not all, dogmatic formulas. Actually, the inherent inadequacy of every dogmatic formula would seem to include its perfectibility and even replaceability by another expression. This conclusion was not accepted by Pius XII 5 nor, apparently, by Paul VI, so far. 6 If these comments ar.e correct, it is right to say that we are • Ibid. • Ibid., 569. 5 Ibid. • Ency. Mysterium Fidei (AAS 57 [1965] 757 ff.) referred to in no. 37 of the Declaration. THE REFORMABILITY OF DOGMATIC FORMULAS 751 given in the Declaration a new teaching, a new understanding of the inevitable inadequacy of every dogmatic formulation. III. A Question of words? After reading the above some may raise the question: is there a real difference between saying: dogmatic formulas are definite and they express truth, but they are .ever perfectible and eventually replaceable by new expressions-this is accepted by the Declaration; and saying: dogmatic formulas are only " changeable approximations " to the truth " which to a certain extent distort and alter it"; they signify the truth only in an indeterminate way, truth being a goal constantly sought (but not reached) by means of such approximations-which is rej.ected as "not avoiding dogmatic relativism" ? Does it not look as though the first statement said in other words that dogmatic formulas are only " changeable approximations " to the truth, since they are inevitably inadequate and essentially perfectible and replaceable? Is that not the same as to say: they are only approximations? A question of words only? No, there is a difference and an important one. The first statement (acceptable) says that dogmatic formulas express the truth (of a mystery), really but only incompletely and imperfectly. They are true (and not partly false and partly true). The second statement means to say that these" changeable approximations " to the revealed truth always distort and alter it, i. e., they are partly true and partly false. This is not correct. Dogmatic formulas do not include falsehood, they are true in what they express, though unable to express the whole of the revealed truth. Therein lies the difference. A concrete example that is well-known may clarify the issue. Hans Kung's way of speaking about .errors in the dogmas which were corrected afterwards, and his reproach to the Church's magisterium of never acknowledging errors, imply a stand that is based on dogmatic relativism. What is false in a dogmatic formula is to be corrected afterwards. This position does not F. DE LE'r'rER hold good when what actually happens (in dogmatic development) is this: what was absent or unexpressed in a dogmatic formula or statement is added afterwards: the expression of the revealed truth is completed (but nothing that was false is corrected, there was nothing false in it) . No correction of an error but a fuller expression of the truth is what is at stake. Traditional theologians will suggest that at the root of the difference lies the acceptance or rejection of a valid analogical knowledge, a knowledge which is true while of necessity being incomplete. Moreover, to prevent an overstr.ess of the new teaching on the changeableness of dogmatic formulas, we may recall here that the conceptual formulation of a point of faith is of relative importance. More decisive than " intellectual assent" to a formula or statement is the commitment to Christ the Revealer of the whole person, mind and heart and will. Mental assents are included in this life-attitude, and the accurateness of the statements and formulas is important to the extent that inaccuracies are liable to mar the fulness and genuineness of the faith as personal commitment. IV. Rethinking Doctrine If the above conclusions are warranted, then, while keeping in mind the insistence of the Declaration on preserving unaltered the meaning of dogmatic formulas which is to remain the same in the eventual new expressions of it, we have here an important principle regarding the rethinking of doctrine and dogma. This means that no particular mystery of the faith, or rather its dogmatic formulation, is a priori excluded from the need of being rethought or revised in its expression for our day. The task may be difficult and not without risk regarding the faith. Nor should it be done rashly or hurriedly: much time and thought are needed and no less faith and wisdom. It should nevertheless be attempted. Which means to say that onlookers and critics should show understanding and charity towards theologians who attempt the task. In doing so, they would give proof of faith and knowledge of the faith, as well THE REFORMABILITY OF DOGMATIC FORMULAS 753 as o£ openness to the needs, both intellectual and spiritual, o£ our contemporaries. For this reason it may have been worth while to stress this new teaching o£ the Declaration. For it is a clear proof that this act o£ the Congregation £or the Doctrine o£ the Faith, while being a warning against errors,-needed no doubt and to be welcomed,-should also be an incentive to further investigation o£ the riches o£ Christ who is the summary o£ our faith. P. DELETTER, s. J. St. Albert's College Rancki, India THE NOTION OF EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE SECUNDA VIA M UCH OF THE literature on Thomas's secunda via, both that produced by his friends and that produced by his enemies, seems to proceed on the assumption that " efficient cause " is for Thomas a univocal notion and one that is grasped. A close reading of the texts, however, reveals that it is, on the contrary, a quite complex sort of idea involving some very precise distinctions which the unwary reader is apt to overlook. In the fifth book of his Commentary on the Metaphysics, St. Thomas notes, with apparent approvaV that Avicenna distinguished four modes of efficient causality: perficiens, disponens, adjuvans, and consilians. 2 The perfecting cause is that which effects the ultimate perfection, that which induces (inducit) the substantial form in natural things or the artificial form in artifacts. The disposing cause 3 is that which does not itself induce the form which is the end of the action but only prepares the matter which is to receive the form. 4 The assisting cause is one which acts, not for its own end, in producing a form but for the end of the principal cause, as one who aids the king in battle acts for the king's purpose. 1 That he does approve Avicenna's analysis is evident from the fact that he uses it in his Commentary on the Physics, Book II, lect. 5, without qualifying it as being the interpretation of another. 2 Expositio in Metaphysicorum, lib. 5, lect. 3 In his commentary on the second book of the Physics, Thomas calls this the causa praeparans. • St. Thomas cites as an example of a disposing cause one who hews wood and stone for a house. Such a cause, however, is not properly said to be an efficient cause with respect to the house; but, if the disposing cause induces into the matter the ultimate disposition upon which the form necessarily follows, then magis tamen proprie erit efjiciens. It is as a disposing cause, Thomas says, that man generates his offspring. V Meta., lect. 754 EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE" SECUNDA VIA" 755 This last mode, adjuvans, is the disposition a secondary cause has to a first cause, for secondary causes in any per se order of causes always act for the end of the first in the order. A counseling cause, finally, supplies the .end and form of the action to be performed. 5 Such is the bearing of the first agent per intellecturn to every secondary agent, for the first intelligent efficient cause in any per se series supplies to all in the series the end and form of the action, just as the architect of a ship supplies the end and the form of the action to those who build the ship. To these four modes of causality, Thomas continues, one can reduce everything which makes something to be in some way (quicquid facit aliquid quocumque modo esse) ,6 whether this be according to the substantial esse of a thing or according to its accidental esse, as is the case in all motion. Not only, therefore, is that which makes something a cause of what is made (esse substantiale), but also whatever changes another is the cause of the changed being (esse accidentale) . Any or all of these four modes, then, may enter into our definition of efficient cause. In the Summa theologiaes when St. Thomas treats of God as efficient cause of the universe, he does not begin, as a theologian is entitled to begin, with the biblical account of creation. Rather, he begins with what is sensible and intelligible in the universe, analyses it in light of certain metaphysical principles, and concludes to the existence of a first efficient cause, quam omnes Deum nominant. 7 This secunda via, expounded so summarily in the second question of the Summa, can be broken down into a number of propositions, each of which must be investigated thoroughly if the cogency of the argument is to be examined: (1) In sensible things there is an order of efficient causes. (2) It is impossible that this order of efficient causes should preceed to infinity. (8) There must • Cf II Phys., lect. 5: Consilians ... est quod dat agentis formam per quam agit. 6 V Meta., lect. 2. 7 Summa Theol., I, q. 2, a. S, c. 756 LAlnmR be a first efficient cause. (4) This first efficient cause everyone acknowledges to be God. 8 That there is in sensible things an order of efficient causes seems at first glance to be perfectly evident; however, if this is taken to mean that one sensible thing is the cause of another's esse, a difficulty arises immediately with respect to the question of whether Thomas would allow that a secondary cause could be an efficient cause in such a sense. In Question Eight of the Prima Pars we are told that, since Esse is the very nature of God, created esse is an effect proper to God, not only in its inception but also in its continuation. 9 Moreover the more unL versal an effect is, the more universal and prior must be its cause; because esse is the most universal of all effects, it must be attributed to the most universal cause, God, and to him properly. 10 Nor can God even communicate to another the power of effecting esse, not even as an instrumental cause, for an instrumental cause participates in the action of a higher cause only inasmuch as the instrument, in accordance with something proper to it, acts dispositively with respect to the effect of the principal cause. But esse does not presuppose anything on which an instrumental cause could act dispositively; rather, everything else presupposes esse.11 Ibid. • Ibid. q. 8, a. 1, c.: "Cum autem Deus sit ipsum esse per suam essentiam, oportet quod esse creatum sit proprius effectus ejus, sicut ignire est proprius effectus ipsius ignis. Hunc autem effectum causat Deus in rebus, non solum quando primo esse incipiunt, sed quamdiu in esse conservantur, sicut lumen causatur in aere a sole, quamdiu aer illuminatus manet." 10 Ibid., q. 45, a. 5, c.: "Oportet enim, universaliores effectus in universaliores, et priores causas rcducere. Inter omnes autem effectus universalissimum est ipsum esse. Unde oportet, quod sit proprius effectus primae, et universalissimae causae, quae est Deus." 11 Ibid.: "Magister dicit in 5. dist. 4. Sent. quod Deus potest creaturae communicare potentiam creandi, ut creet per ministerium, non propria auctoritate. Sed hoc esse non potest, quia causa secunda instrumentalis non participat actionem causae superioris, nisi inquantum per aliquid sibi proprium dispositive operatur ad effectum principalis agentis ... Illud autem, quod est proprius effectus Dei creantis, est illud, quod praesupponitur omnibus aliis, scilicet esse absolute .•• Sic igitur impossibile est, quod alicui creaturae conveniat creare, neque virtute propria, neque instrumentaliter, sive per ministerium. Et hoc praecipue inconveniens est dici 8 EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE" SECUNDA VIA" 757 These passages however, are reconciled with the above analysis of efficient causality as making something to be in some way; 12 Thomas says that beings other than God cannot be causes of being (essendi) in the unqualified sense but causes of being this (essendi hoc) .13 In discussing divine providence Thomas explains in what ways creatures can be .efficient causes. In the case of artifacts the artificer is the cause of the thing's becoming, not of its esse directly. For example to be a house is consequent upon the form of a house, i. e., a certain composition and order of materials; it is this form which the builder supplies, but he supplies it only by making use of certain natural powers of the materials, for the form is consequent upon these natural powers rather than upon the action of the builder. That is, a house is built by the use of mortar, stones, and wood, which are naturally susceptible of, and naturally inclined to conserve, the form and order which the builder imposes upon them. Consequently, to be a house depends upon the natural powers of the materials; to become a house depends upon the builder's making use of these natures. 14 Similarly, in natural things, nothing can be the cause of the form, simply as form, of another individual of the same species and, therefore, cannot be the cause of such an individual's esse, which accompanies its form; 15 otherwise a thing would be the cause of itself by causing the form which it also has as a memde aliquo corpore, quod creet, cum nullum corpus agat, nisi tangendo, vel movendo; et sic requirit in sua actione aliquid praeexistens, quod possit tangi, et moveri." 12 Vd. supra, p. 755. 13 II Summa Contra Gentiles, c. 21. u Summa Theol., I, q. 104, a. 1, c: "Aedificator enim est causa domus quantum ad ejus fieri, non autem directe quantum ad esse ejus: manifestum est enim, quod esse domus consequitur formam ejus: forma autem domus est compositio, et ordo: quae quidem formae consequitur naturalem virtutem quarumdam rerum." 15 Ibid.: " Et simili ratione est considerandum in rebus naturalibus: quia, si aliquod agens non est causa formae, inquantum hujusmodi, non erit per se causa esse, quod consequitur ad talem formam, sed erit causa effectus secundum fieri tantum ... S<)d potest esse causa hujusmodi formae, secundum quod est in materia, idest quod haec materia acquirat hanc formam; et hoc est esse causa secundum fieri." 758 ROSEMARY LAUER her of that species. However, a natural thing can be a cause of certain matter's acquiring the form of its own species, as in the generation of animals or in the generation of fire by fire; but this is to be a cause only secundum fieri. In fact, whenever the impression of the agent is received in the patient in the same way (secundum eamdern rationem) as it exists in the agent, that is, when the agent causes the patient to acquire the same specific form that exists in the agent, the agent is a cause only of the patient's becoming, not of its esse. This is necessarily true, for whatever is not cause of the form, as such, cannot be cause of that which accompanies (consequitur) the form, the esse.16 On the question of whether a natural thing can truly bestow upon a patient a form other than that which the agent itself possesses, and thus be truly a cause of another's esse, St. Thomas was led astray by Aristotelian physics. As a consequence, he considered himself obligated to explain the relationship between celestial bodies and the less perfect bodies of whose generation they are the cause, not only in the sense that they cause the form to be received in certain matter but in the sense that they are the cause of the form as such. An example of this relationship, Thomas tells us, is that which exists between the sun and the air which is illumined by it. Air is not naturally capable of receiving the form of light in the same way (secundum eamdem rationem) in which that form exists in the sun which is the principle of light; therefore, the " participated " form of light in the air is not of the same nature or species as that of the sun. Rather, it is a form of which the sun is cause, not only secundum fieri but secundum esse. And this explains why the air ceases to be illumined the instant the sun's action on it ceases. 17 16 Ibid.: " Et ideo quandocumque naturalis effectus est natus impressionem agentis recipere secundum eamdem rationem, secundum quam est in agente, tunc fieri effectus dependet ab agente, non autem esse ipsius." 17 If the sun were to be the cause of the air's illumination only seeundum fieri, then the cessation of the sun's action should not effect the cessation of the air's illumination just as the cessation of the builder's action does not effect the cessation EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE" SECUNDA VIA" 759 This, of course, involves an apparent contradiction of what Thomas says in many other places; i.e., that esse (not fieri) is an effect proper to God alone. 18 That is, if esse accompanies a form in such manner that whatever has a form is a being in act/ 9 then whatever is a cause of a form as such is also a cause of esse; and Thomas seems to have granted that at least the sun is such a cause. Moreover those things which have forms per se (formae subsistentes) would seem to possess esse per se in such wise that their continued existence would be no more the effect of God than the continued existence of a house is the effect of its builder. To these objections the answer is given that the esse which accompanies (consequitur) a created form presupposes a divine influx, just as the transparency of air is an accompaniment of light presupposing the sun's influx. 20 And yet creatures are truly causes of the esse of others, for that certain things continue to exist depends upon the continued existence of their causes. For example, Aristotle's primus motus is the cause of the continuance of generation; the secundum motus, of diversity; Saturn, perhaps, of permanence or fixity. 21 Were of the house's existing. Thomas was faced with a further difficulty, or with what seemed to be a difficulty due to the Aristotelian physics; i. e., fire is the cause of heat in any object only secundum fieri, and yet removing an object from a fire results in that obj.ect's gradually losing its form of heat. (Were the form to be lost instantaneously, as air loses its form of light when the sun ceases its action, Thomas would very likely have been forced to consider fire as the cause of an object's heat secundum esse.) That the object does not lose its heat instantaneously is due to its receiving the impression of fire secundum eamdem rationem as it exists in the fire; that it does gradually lose the form of heat is due to its participating the form in a feeble and imperfect way. "Si autem imperfecte participet aliquid de forma ignis secundum quamdam inchoationem, calor non semper remanebit, sed ad tempus, propter debilem participationem principii caloris." Summa Theol., I. q. 104, a. 1, c. Connected with this Aristotelian analysis is the advice Hamlet gives Polonius about keeping Ophelia out of the sun. 18 V d. supra. 19 Cf. Summa Theol., I, q. 104, a. 1, obj. 1: "Esse autem per se consequitur ad formam: quia unumquodque secundum hoc est ens actu, quod habet formam." 20 Ibid., ad 1: " ... esse per se consequitur formam creaturae, supposito tamen influxu Dei ... Unde potentia ad non esse in spiritualibus creaturis, et corporibus coelestibus magis est in Deo qui potest subtrahere suum influxum, quam in forma, vel in materia talium creaturarum." 01 Ibid., a. 2, c. 760 ROSEMARY LAUER these to cease, the accidents of generation, diversity, and fixity would cease to exist. With respect to this causality of form St. Thomas says that it is evident that whatever is made is similar to the maker, for omne agens agit sibi simile; therefore, whatever makes a natural thing bears some similarity to a composite: either the maker is a composite, or the entire composite which is made, both as to its form and its matter, exists in virtute of the maker. This last is proper to God; therefore, all information of matter (informatio materiae) is from God, either immediately or by some corporeal agent; it is not possible that even an angel should be the immediate cause of information. 22 This virtus of the maker, however, is not all that is required in the information of matter. Even though the supreme being has the maximum of universal power, the patients of that power are not immediately proportioned to receiving that universal power but through some mediating powers which ar.e greatly particularized and contracted (per medias virtutes magis particulares et contractas). This is evident in the order of corporeal things, for the celestial bodies are the principles of generation in men and other "perfect " 23 animals, not immediately but through the particularized power which is in the human seed.24 Again, it is to be noted, those beings which are posited as true causes of esse (through always dependent in their action upon an influx from the primary cause) are celestial bodies. It would seem that Thomas's philosophical sense demanded that he reserve the causality of esse to God, and yet he was forced to reconcile his own philosophical principles with Aristotle's physics. Had he been disabused of his conception of celestial bodies as being of some superterrestrial substance and exerting •• Ibid., q. 110, a. c. •• Because the action of " imperfect " animals is so feeble, the principle of generation in the celestial spheres must act immediately in their formation: "Quamvis quaedam animalia ex putrefactione generantur per solam virtutem caelestium corporum absque semine; quod accidit ratione imperfectionis eorum." De Malo, q. 16, a. 9, c. "'Ibid. EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE" SECUNDA VIA" 761 some superphysical influence on the earth, it seems quite likely that he would have been left without a single example of one creature's being the cause of another's form as such and, consequently, of its esse.25 As far as we are presently able to discern, there seems to be no creature the cessation of whose existence would entail the cessation of any species of form, substantial or accidental (locomotion in general is a .species of accidental form) , except, of course, its own form where the creature concerned is unique in its species. This, of course, does not eliminate efficient causality in creatures. Though it may be the case that no creature is able to effect a form as such and that no creature can operate in any way without an influx from the first cause/ 6 it is not reasonabl.e, St. Thomas holds, to take the extreme position of certain of the Arabians that no created power ever exerts any influence whatsoever. Nevertheless, whenever there is an order of efficient causes, the second operates in virtue of the first; that is, the first moves the second to act. 27 Mor.eover, if the operation be one of generation by a univocal agent, 28 the agent can be only as an instrumental cause with respect to that which is the first cause of the whole species. This instrumental causality, it must be added, is always by way of motion, for it is of the very nature of an instrumental cause that it should be a moved mover .29 Now, if the ultimate effect is a motion, then there must be a recipient of the motion; consequently, no instrumental cause can effect the unqualified existence of a being but only some modification in an already existing being. 80 Were an instru•• Doubtless, knowing that " spontaneous generation " is not found in nature would have prompted Thomas to alter his views on a celestial corporeal datw j01'1fULrum. •• Cf. Summa Theol., I, q. 105, a. 5, "Utrum Deus operetur in omni operante." •• Ibid., c. •• A univocal agent generates an individual of the same species as itself, as man generates man; an equivocal agent, of a different species, as the sun in the generation of man; an analogous agent, of a species which merely participates in the perfection of the agent, as the sun is the cause of the participated form of light in the air. II Cont. Gent., c. 88. 29 Ibid., c. 21: "Est enim ratio instrumenti quod sit movens motum." 80 Ibid.: " lnstrumentum adhibetur propter convenientiam eius cum causato, 76Q ROSEMARY LAUER mental cause able to effect an ens from non ens, rather than, for example, man from something which is not man, the case would be different. In another analysis of secondary causality St. Thomas tells us that, though the esse of a form in matter does not in itself entail any motion or mutation, except per accidens, no corporeal thing acts except as moved. The principle on which a form depends per se must be an incorporeal principle; if a corporeal principle is in some way a cause of the form, this happens only because that corporeal principle acts as an instrument of and in virtue of something incorporeal. Inasmuch as a corporeal form cannot begin to be except in matter, and because not just any kind of matter can receive the form, but only the proper matter, it is necessary that matter which does not have the proper disposition be changed in order that the form may be received. It is this changing of the disposition of matter that is attributed to a corporeal agent, which, however, acts in virtue of the incorporeal principle, whose action it determines to a certain form. Accordingly, the form of the generated naturally depends upon the generator in its being educed from the potency of matter, not, however, quantum ad esse absolutum. As a consequence, if the action of the generator should cease, the patient's eduction from potency to act, which is fieri, would cease, but the form according to which the generated has esse would not cease to be. If the act of the first incorporeal principle should cease, however, then the very esse of the creature would cease. 31 Or, as Thomas explains it in another place, no corporeal thing is the cause of another being except inasmuch as it is itself moved, for no body acts except through motion. Neither, therefore, is any body a cause of the esse as such of another thing ut sit medium inter causam primam et causatum et attingat utrumque, et sic influentia primi perveniat ad causatum per instrumentum. Unde oportet quod sit aliquid recipiens primi influentiam in eo quod per instrumentum causatur." 31 De q. 4, a. 1, c.: As a conclusion to this analysis, Thomas remarks that " Hoc autem agens incorporeum, a quo omnia creantur, et corporalia et incorporalia, Deus est ... a quo non solum sunt formae rerum, sed etiam materiae." EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE" SECUNDA VIA" 763 but only of its being moved to esse, its becoming. 32 Should the motion of the mover cease, then the motion or fieri of the patient would also cease; the esse of the patient, however, would cease only if the divine operation should cease, for esse is an effect proper to God. 33 This analysis of the instrumental causality of creatures, however, raises a difficulty with respect to the quinque viae. If all creatural efficient causality is instrumental, and if all instrumental causality is a case of movens motum, 34 the secunda via seems to differ not at all from the p1ima, unless, of course, the motion referred to in the prima via be restricted to local motion and the secunda via be interpreted to refer to quantitative and qualitative changes considered as dispositive causes of generation and corruption. 35 However, Thomas offers what seems to be a solution to this difficulty: it is not necessary that there be a real distinction between the motion considered by the prima via and the causality noted in the secunda,, for everything which operates is in some way a cause of being, either substantial or accidental.36 That is, local motion, or any kind of passage from potency to act, can be considered simply as motion, or it can be considered as a substantial or accidental determination of esse. Considered in the :first way, it supplies the starting point for the prima via; considered as a determination of esse, it becomes the point of departure for the secunda via. Every mover is, of course, an efficient cause, but it is so only in virtue of the fact that it determines or particularizes esse. To think of a mover as an efficient cause is to advert to its effect's relation 82 III Cont. Gent., c. 45: "Nullum igitur corpus est causa esse alicuius rei inquantum est esse, sed est causa eius quod est moveri esse, quod est fieri rei." 38 Ibid. •• Cf. supra, note 29. 85 Even with this interpretation of Thomas's intended sense of "motion" a difficulty remains in the likelihood that modern science has demonstrated the possibility, or perhaps even the necessity, of reducing to local motion all of Aristotle's quantitative and qualitative changes in corporeal things. 86 Ill Cont. Gent., c. 47: " Omne enim operans est aliquo modo causa essendi, vel secundum esse substantiale, vel accidentale." 764 ROSEMARY LAUER to esse,. to consider its metaphysical rather than merely physical implications. It seems, then, that when St. Thomas states, as a first proposition of the secunda via, that there is an order of efficient causes in sensible things, what he means is this: Certain actions of terrestrial bodies are accidental; that is, they are produced through certain active or passive properties of the agent bodies. These properties, or accidental forms, however, are caused by the substantial form, which together with the body's matter, is the cause of all proper accidents; such accidental forms, then, act only in virtue of the substantial form. 37 Further, certain substantial forms are caused by the celestial body which is the primum alterans; 38 these forms, accordingly, act only in virtue of this primum alterans.39 Such a series of forms would constitute an order of efficient causality in sensible things, a series of forms each of which acts only in virtue of that which is next in the series. Since it is a form which is caused 40 and since esse accompanies form, each agent in the series is a cause of and, therefore, an efficient cause. This order of causality is not to be considered as simply an accidental order; each member of the .series depends upon its immediate superior insofar as the superior gives the power in virtue of which the inferior acts, conserves that power, or applies it to its act. Each member acts, then, not only in virtue of its own power but in virtue also of each superior member; consequently, not only is the last member of the series found to be an immediate cause of the final effect but each member of the series operates as an immediate cause of that effect, though 87 Ibid., c. 69: " Agit enim unumquodque secundum quod est actu. Et propter hoc omne corpus agit secundum suam formam." 88 Ibid.: " In animalibus autem quae ex putrefactione generantur, causatur forma substantialia ex agente corporali, scilicet corpore caelesti, quod est primum alterans." •• Cf. ibid. In the generation of more perfect animal forms, that of man, for example, a univocal agent is required along with the primum alterana, so that homo generat hominem et sol. •• Ibid.: "Agens enim naturale non est traducens propriam formam in alterum subiectum, sed reducens subiectum quod patitur, de potentia in actum." EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE "SECUNDA VIA" 765 not in the same way. 41 As a result, the final .effect is not to be attributed partly to one member of the series and partly to another but entirely to each member of the seri.es, just as that which is accomplished by means of an instrumental cause is to be attributed entirely to the instrument and entirely to the principal agent, but, of course, secundum alium modum. 42 That there cannot be an indefinite regress in such a series of causes is evident from the fact that each perfection, essential or accidental, in virtue of which the members of the series operate is either a participation in esse or a being which is essentially esse. Whatever participates in a perfection depends for its origin and conservation on what is essentially the participated perfection, 43 and it is only in virtue of such an essential perfection that the series is possible at all. Without this " first" in the series there could be no secondary causality. 44 As we have seen above every corporeal agent is a moved mover and, therefore, a mediating cause. Now, it is required that before (not in point of time necessarily) all mediating causes there be a first, which is not a mediating cause (otherwise, it would not be a first), for the first cause is the cause of all in the series. If that upon which all the causes depend be r.emoved, then all those causes which depend upon it would also be removed. 45 Further, this first efficient cause of every 01 Ibid., c. 70: " Oportet ergo quod actio inferioris agentis non solum sit ab eo per virtutem propriam, sed per virtutem onmium superiorum agentium: agit enim in virtute omnium. Et sicut agens infimum invenitur immediatum activum, ita virtus primi agentis invenitur immediata ad producendum effectum ... ita non est inconveniens quod producatur idem effectus ab inferiori agente et Deo: ab utroque immediate, Iicet alia et alio modo." •• Ibid.: " ... sicut idem effectus totus attribuitur instrumento, et principali agenti etiam totus." •• II Sent., dist. 2, a. 1, a. 2, sol: "Cum autem qualibet res, et quidquid est in re, aliquo modo esse participet, et admixtum sit imperfectioni, oportet quod omnis res, secundum totum id quod in ea est, a primo et perfecto ente oriatur." •• II Cont. Gent., c. 15: " Quod per essentiam dicitur, est causa omnium quae per participationem dicuntur ... Deus autem est ens per essentiam suam: quia est ipsum esse. Onme autem aliud ens est ens per participationem . . . Deus igitur est causa essendi omnibus aliis." '"II Metaphys., Iect. 8. 766 ROSEMARY LAUER series whatsoever is essentially esse, for every efficient cause is in some way a cause of esse. What is not essentially esse is called a being (ens) only because it participates in esse, and whatever has any perfection by participation is derived from that which is essentially that perfection. 46 That this first efficient cause in virtue of which every secondary cause operates is " what everyone acknowledges to be God" may be shown in various ways. The most obvious, however, and the most appropriate to the secunda via consists in pointing out that the first cause of all esse is the " creator" and conserver of all being; and certainly .everyone acknowledges the identity between God and the creator of all things. To create is simply to be first efficient cause, ex nihilo and, theJ'Iefore, not as moving or altering some subject. 47 Since whatever might be considered as a subject of divine causality is, insofar as it is participation in esse, it is itself therefore an effect of the divine causality. Certainly the Being to which all actuality and perfection are to be attributed, both in their origin and in their conservation, all acknowledge to be God. So St. Thomas concludes his " second way " of demonstrating the existence of God. To evaluate the validity of this conclusion surely the first requirement is that one understand the argument-and that one understand the usually underesti•• II Sent., dist. q. 1, a. sol: "Cum autem qualibet res ... aliquo modo esse participet ... " I Sent., dist. 8, q. 1, a. 1, sol: "Tertia ratio (quod qui est, est maxime proprium nomen Dei) sumitur ex verbis Dionysii, qui dicit, quod esse inter omnes alias divinae bonitatis participationes, sicut vivere et intelligere et hujusmodi, primum est, et quasi principium aliorum, praehabens in se omnia praedicta." De Malo, q. 3, a. c.: " ... cum Deus sit ens per suam essentiam, quia sua essentia est suum esse, oportet quod quocumque modo est, derivatur ab ipso, nihil enim aliud est quod sit suum esse; sed omnia dicuntur entia per participationem. Omne autem quod per participationem dicitur tale, derivatur ab eo quod est per essentiam; sicut omnia ignita derivantur ab eo quod est per essentiam ignis." 47 11 Cont. Gent., c. 16: "Nihil enim est aliud creare quam absque materia praeiacenti aliquid in esse producere." C. 17: " Motus enim omnis vel mutatio est actus existentis in potentia secundum quod huiusmodi ... In hac autem actione non praeexistit aliquid in potentia quod suscipat actionem . . .Igitur non est motus neque mutatio." EFFICIENT CAUSE IN THE " SECUNDA VIA " 767 mated complexity of Thomas's conception of" efficient cause." One hopes that calling attention to some of the passages in which St. Thomas makes this complexity explicit may contribute to a more balanced verdict on the cogency of the Secunda Via. RosEMARY San Diego State University San Diego, California LAUER ON JUDGING R ECENT DEVELOPMENTS in thomistic critique of knowledge-usually though not too aptly called epistemology-could be summed up as centered on a growing awareness of the importance of the act of judging as the full and complete act of human knowing, that in which truth is for the first time formally present as known. These characteristics had indeed been known all along, but in a rather theoretical and abstract way. Their bearing on the critique of knowledge has been fully acknowledged by Scholastics only in the last thirty years or so, at least if one is to take the best known and most used manuals as guide. There are many reasons for this state of affairs. Among them some doctrinal and historical ones seem particularly pertinent. Perhaps the main doctrinal factor is that in the normal course of philosophy judging was treated only from a logical perspective, as judgment, the second act of the mind. Since the first act, conception or simple apprehension, leads to the second which is logically symbolized asS is P, and therefore expressed as a proposition in which there appears to be a mental synthesis of two previously formed concepts, the act of judging was treated as such a union (or disjunction, in negations) of two concepts. The act of judging was thus supposed to display itself fully in the form of the proposition, and the logical properties of propositions were investigated. After this the act of judging was considered to have been sufficiently treated. It was not later treated from the psychological point of view, as a full-blooded act of the mind; and as a result its central significance in the critique of knowledge was overlooked. After all, if the judgment is only the union of two previously formed concepts, it does not add anything new to the content of knowledge, with the result that knowing will be reduced, in its 768 ON JUDGING 769 essentials, to conception; and the critique of knowledge will deal almost exclusively with this. Concepts are abstract and universal. They do not directly refer to the existential order of really existing things. If the judgment does no more than unite two concepts the existence expr.essed in the copula " is " will be no more than mental. Thought, even when leading to judgment, will then be confined to the immanent or conceptual order, and the age-old problem of how to relate thought to reality will place itself in the forefront of critical reflection. Moreover, precisely because concepts are universal, the prototype of human judgments will be taken to be found in universal propositions such as that oldest inhabitant of logical text-books: all men are mortal. Singular, and especially existential judgments will be treated as oddities and of little value. The attempt to establish the existential reference of thought, in such a context, to reality has absorbed the energies of many an almost despairing realist. This way of conceiving judgment and of placing the critical problem is connected with another doctrinal matter, one that is thoroughly metaphysical: the notion of being and of existence. Insofar as the judgment makes use of the copula it affirms existence, so that to consider the act of judging is at once to raise the question of existence; and if the judgment is confined to the conceptual and abstract order, such existence will be seen either as merely mental or, at most, as factual givenness of the objects represented in the terms of the judgment and reached by the mind in some non-intellectual way, by instinct, sympathy, common sense, or even by faith. This in turn leads to-or perhaps it springs from-a completely impoverished notion of existence as mere factual givenness, to the neglect of its properly metaphysical value. It is no casual coincidence that a more enlightened approach to the study of judging has gone hand in hand with a return to a genuinely thomistic appreciation of being and with developments in contemporary philosophy leading in the same direction. The trend towards what we may call conceptualism, or essentialism, may be to some extent innate in the version of 770 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL thomism which had won most support since the revival in the last century. It can be partly explained as due to the predominance of the aristotelean elements (as typified in logic) to the neglect of Thomas's own specific contribution, particularly where existence is concerned. But the emergence of the conceptualist trend is also due largely to the influence of other historical currents of thought. One need not go back further than Descartes to detect one main source of this kind. For him, knowledge consists entirely in conception, or, as he put it, intuition; and the object of such intuition is the clear and distinct idea, the singular but totally immanent object of the mind. This not only at once raises the famous problem of the " bridge " from the mind to existent reality; it devalues the judgment, so much so that Descartes assigns it to the will, not to intellect; and evidently it can be nothing more than the mental union of two ideas. 1 This way of viewing human knowledge, and of placing the critical problem, became so common that Scholastic thought could not but be affected. The mathematicism which is explicitly central in Descartes came to be at least implicitly assumed by others, thus effectively setting philosophy upon the path of immanentism, with consequent neglect of the existential order. This "mathematicizing " tendency passes through Spinoza and Leibniz to reach its climax in Wolff for whom philosophy deals entirely with the ideal order of essences and essential relationships, wher.eas all questions of existential import are relegated to the sciences. Philosophy, for him, deals only with what is possible. It shows no concern for the actual or existent. Intellect becomes the faculty of conceiving ideas, while reason is the power of grasping the relation between them and of drawing conclusions. Judging is simply the correlation of ideas. 2 The cartesian principle of immanence was equally fundamental to the empiricist school of thought which reduced knowledge to the basic elements of images or sense impressions and in1 Principia Philosophiae, I, 32-34; A.T. VIII, 17.19-18.10. • Philosophia Rationalis sett Logica, P.I, Sect. 1, c.1, § 40; Sect. 2, c. 4, § 198. ON JUDGING 771 dicated the principle of association of ideas as the basis of judgment. For Locke knowledge is therefore "nothing but the perception of the connection and agreement, or disagreement and repugnancy, of any of our ideas." 3 When this connection is certainly perceived we can speak of knowledge; otherwise we have no more than judgment "which is the putting ideas together, or separating them from one another in the mind, when their certain agreement or disagreement is not perceived, but presumed to be so." 4 The propositions of which we may be certain have no reference to existence; they concern "only the essences of things, which, being only abstract ideas, and thereby removed in our thoughts from particular existence ... give us no knowledge of real existence at all." 5 Nevertheless, Locke maintained that we have "knowledge of our own existence by intuition; of the existence of God by demonstration; and of other things by sensation." 6 Hume pushed this approach to its logical conclusion. If knowing is reduced to having impressions and ideas, the three acts of understanding (concept, judgment and reasoning) " all resolve themselves into the first, and are nothing but particular ways of conceiving our objects." 7 There is no such thing as a distinct act of judging; and Hume finds confirmation for this in the so-called existential judgment (v. g., God is) where, he says, there are not two ideas but only one. For "the idea of existence is no distinct idea," 8 so that we can form a proposition which contains only one idea. Hume seems at least to have grasped the connection between judgment and existence; to reject one implies rejection of the other." The idea of existence, then, is the very same with the idea of what we conceive to be existent. To reflect on anything simply, and to reflect on it 8 An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, IV, 1,2. • Ibid., 14,4. 5 Ibid., 7,1. 6 Ibid., 7 .3. 7 A Treatise of Human Nature I, iii, 7 (Oxford: Selhy-Bigge, 1951, 456); cf. I, iii, 9 (108); III, i, 1 (456) . s Ibid., I, iii, 7 (96n) . 772 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL as existent, are nothing different from each other." 9 "We have no abstract idea of existence, distinguishable and separable from the idea of particular objects." 10 If this be so, it will be easy to show that the idea of an effect (that which begins to exist) does not imply that of a cause; for "'twill be easy for us to conceive any object to be non-existent this moment, and existent the next, without conjoining to it the distinct idea of a cause or productive principle." 11 The net result of all this is that, for Hume, existence is simply not known; our conviction of existence is explained away as belief. If Hume reduced judgment to conception, Kant tended to the other extreme of reducing conception to judgment. If intuition is restricted to the order of sense, which is presumed to be that of appearances, the whole content of knowledge will be provided by the senses. There will then be no act of conception as traditionally understood. The function of intellect, and its first act, will be to correlate in purely formal ways the data derived from sense experience; and this correlation is what Kant calls judgment. Kant seems to have retained this purely formal notion of judgment right through his pre-critical period. In one of his early works he speak of the judging faculty as belonging to internal sense. Its function is to perceive something precisely as a property of another to which it is attributed. This leads to the formation of a concept, insofar as a representation is changed into a concept when it is to a subject. Since this subject is already present to the mind, the judgment does not imply more than a clarification of the subject. It does not lead to increase in knowledge; all it does is to clarify by means of analysis. 12 Consequently Kant hold that judgment does not bear on existence, and indeed that existence is never a predicate or a determination of anything. Like Hume he holds that, if • Ibid., I, ii 6 (66, 67) cf. I, ii, 7 (94). Ibid., App.endix (623). 11 Ibid., I, iii, 3 (79). 12 Die falsche Spitzfindigkeit der vier syllogistischen Figuren erwiesen (1762), final section; Werke (Berlin, 1902-1938), ll, 57-61. 10 ON JUDGING 773 one thinks of an object in all its essentials and as non-existent, and then thinks of it as existing, there is no change in that object. If existence is predicated, it will be attributed not to the object but to its idea; and the idea does not contain existence. Hence judgment is not concerned with things but with concepts. Real existence belongs only to a subject as given in reality. It means the absolute positing of a thing, not its relation to other things or to its properties. Such positing adds nothing to the essence; except where God is concerned it is known only a posteriori. Judgment therefore, as regarding only the analysis of the subject, bears only on the essence, whereas existence lies outside the whole order of essence.18 The judgment can do no more than attribute to a subject a predicate already, although confusedly, contained in it. 14 Kant's notice for his lectures in 1765-6 gives a summary statement of his ideas at this time. The teacher, he says/:; should follow the order of man's mental evolution: the intellect, by means of experience, forms judments, and then concepts; these concepts are then ordered among themselves according to the relation of ground and consequence by means of reason, so that they may all be shown in that organic totality to which science gives expression. The Critique of Pure Reason preserves and develops these same notions. The understanding is defined as the faculty of thinking by means of concepts, as distinct from knowing (which requires also intuition) . The concepts of understanding are, of themselv.es, pure, as divorced from sense intuition they are empty. They arise from the spontaneous activity of the understanding; and this activity is essentially that of uniting diverse representations under one. The concept is never related immediately to an object but only to another representation (whether concept or intuition). The only use which underDer einzig mogliche Beweisgrund zu einer Demonstration des Daseins Gottes cf. K.r.V.,B.626-7 (the "hundred thalers"). 10 Versuch den Begriff der negativen Grossen in die Weltweisheit einzufuhren (1763); W erke, II, 203. 15 W erke II, 305. 16-23. 18 (1763);Werkell,72-81; 774 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL standing can make of concepts is to judge; and this means uniting many representations together, for instance, the more particular under the more general. To judge is to reduce many representations to unity by means of concepts; it is to think by means of concepts which contain other representations by which the concepts may be related to an object. Hence a judgment is mediate knowledge of an object, the representation of the representation of an object. 16 The understanding can therefore be defined as "the faculty of thinking, the faculty of forming concepts, or the faculty of making judgments; and these definitions, once brought to light, come to the same thing." 17 The first act of the understanding is thus that of judging; and this is the same as having concepts which can unify different representations. Granted this approach, it is inevitable that the speculative judgments of understanding can never express real existence; they can express only the relations of concepts among themselves or to repr.esentations. The existence which they express is uniquely that of the mental synthesis, the logical existence of the copula. Thus, in the Critique of Practical Reason, Kant affirms that existence can never be known from mere concepts. Every existential proposition, that is, every proposition that affirms the existence of a being of which I frame a concept, is a synthetic proposition, that is, one by which I go beyond that conception and affirm of it more than was thought in the conception itself, namely, that this concept in the understanding has an object corresponding to it outside the understanding, and this it is obviously impossible to elicit by any reasoning. There remains, therefore, only one single 16 Anal. Cone. 1 c.1, sect. 1; A. 58; B. 85 Kant goes on to explain (ibid., Sect. 2, § 19; B. 140-142) that a judgment is not the representation of a relation between two concepts. It implies a certain union of representations by means of the intellect; and this union consists in reducing these representations to the objective, and hence necessary, unity of apperception. The function of the copula is to distinguish this objective unity from the merely subjective unity of given representations, such as results from their association. When the intellect unites representations according to principles which objectively determine all representations, we then obtain a judgment which expresses a relation that is objectively valid. 17 Ibid., c.2, sect. 3; A, 126. 25-29; cf. B, 108,8-11. ON JUDGING 775. process possible for reason to attain this knowledge, namely, to start from the supreme principle of its practical use.18 Kant's notion of understanding and judgment rules out any possibility of speculative knowledge of existence. For him, as for the logician and the mathematician, the existence expressed in judgment is, as such, that of the mental synthesis of concepts. If we look for a more modern approach to judgment that is still mainly logical, yet with at least some awareness of the psychology of the act of judging and of its relation to reality, we could hardly do better than tum to Bertrand Russell. He is neither the first nor the only important thinker to treat of judgment in recent times. He learned much from Frege; and G. E. Moore had written an influential article on" The Nature of Judgement" in 1899.18 • But Russell set to work to analyze and examine in depth the logic of propositions in current use as well as those which have puzzled philosophers. His views on this topic, as indeed his philosophy also, changed and developed, but there is a certain consistency in his approach, at least after he had abandoned the objectivist views expressed in the first edition (1903) of his Principles of Mathematics where, as he says himself, he " shared with Frege a belief in the Platonic reality of number." 19 Assuming that we have immediate knowledge ("by acquaintance") only of sense-data (and of our own mental acts) Russell concluded that propositions deal with facts rather than things. He went on to enquire what is required on the part of such facts for a proposition to be meaningful. If we do not know things (except by " description ") and yet to them in propositions, it seems that they can be no more than logical constructions out of the sense-data that are known. The only Werke, V, 139; trans. ofT. K. Abbott. Mind, XXIV, pp. 176-199. In this article both things and propositions are regarded as colligations of concepts. The essays (1903-1920) now grouped together in Moore's Principia Ethica can be described as a series of questions concerning judgment in the writings of Idealists in ethics, and in rdation to perception and similar topics. 19 The Principles of Mathematics, 2nd. ed. (London, 1937); Introd., X. 18 18 " 776 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL truly singular proposition will then be that which refers immediately to an empirical datum. There was a difficulty about proper names, for they seem to refer to individuals, as when one says: Scott is the author of Waverly. He met this by the theory of definite descriptions which reveals that " Scott " is there a description, or predicate, rather than a subject; for the meaning of the proposition is: "x wrote Waverly " is equivalent to " x is Scott " is true for all values of x. This, notes Russell, "swept away the contention-advanced, for instance, by Meinong-that there must, in the realm of Being, be such objects as the golden mountain and the round square, since we can talk about them." 20 By making use of Frege's notion of a propositional function he was then able to extend his analysis to logically proper names and to propositions which affirm existence. The propositional function is an incomplete expression with a variable such that if a definite value (a grammatical subject, or, in Frege's term, an argument) be substituted for it the function will become a proposition which is either true or false. The example already given (" x wrote Waverly ") is such a function. The difficulty about logically proper names is that their meaning seems to lie in their denoting some singular and existing object. If so, to affirm the existence of such an object appears to be a tautology, whereas to deny its existence would be a contradiction. To escape this dilemma Russell suggested that existence can never be affirmed except by means of the properties of a thing; in other words, the proper name denotes by means of a property, namely, the property of having an instance. The individual is denoted by the argument (which can be a relation as well as a property) which satisfies a propositional function. From this point of view existence is no longer to be seen as a property belonging to things. This is evident enough when the existence in question is that only of the copula, of definition, of equality, of implication, of membership of a class or of the •• Ibid., cf. "Logical Atomism," in Contemporary British Philosophy I (London, pp. 857-888. ON JUDGING 777 inclusion of one class in another. These are all logical notions regarding the union of function and argument. But it is also true of existence in the sense of " to exist." The theory of descriptions shows that a judgment of existence does not attribute existence to things represented by a grammatical subject; that judgment only asserts that a certain description is applicable, a certain name is appropriate, an argument fulfills a certain function. For instance, the propositional function: " x is a man " gives rise, for certain arguments, to true propositions. Hence existence does not qualify things, even indirectly, through properties; it is property of propositional functions, the property of having certain instances so that the resulting proposition is true in at least one case. The fundamental meaning of existence is that arguments exist which satisfy propositional functions." Other meanings are either derived from this, or embody mere confusion of thought. We may correctly say ' men exist,' meaning that ' x is a man ' is sometimes true . . . Though it is correct to say ' men exist,' it is incorrect, or rather meaningless, to ascribe existence to a given particular x who happens to be a man." 21 To attribute existence to individuals is to commit the error of transferring to an individual who satisfies a propositional function a predicate which applies only to the propositional function. " It will be found," adds Russell, " that by bearing in mind this simple fallacy we can solve many ancient philosophical puzzles concerning the meaning of existence." 22 This treatment of judgment-more accurately, of the proposition-by Russell may be described as logico-semantical. It is an enquiry into the meaning of propositions, particularly in view of the problems set by propositions which are false or which refer to objects which do not ,exist or at least cannot be known to exist. It is an attempt to explain how such propositions can have meaning, on the assumption that we perceive 21 22 Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy, 2nd. ed. (London, 1920), pp. 164-5. Ibid., p. 165; cf. A History of Western Philosophy (London, 1945), c. 81, pp. 859, 860. 778 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL only sense-data. Its scope is therefor.e restricted both by that assumption and by the perspective of meaningfulness. Russell however, like Frege, recognizes the distinction between the proposition and its assertion, or at least the assertion of its truth or falsehood. 23 He finds that "it is almost impossible, at least to me, to divorce assertion from truth, as Frege does ... To divorce assertion from truth seems only possible by taking assertion in a psychological sense." 24 He does not entirely neglect the act of judging from the psychological point of view, although here also his chief problem remains that of meaning. Rejecting the view that judgment is just a complex symbol, he holds that it has a specific nature and unity of its own. At first he saw it as a multiple relation between a perceiving Ego and an objective state of affairs; although how an objective state of affairs can be judged, if all that is immediately known is sense-data, remains unexplained. Later, under the influence of W. James, he came to hold that the Ego is not known as an empirical subject but only as a sequence of thoughts and events. Judgment was then seen as an arranging of images in the mind. Some images represent individuals, others represent properties and relations. It seems to be taken for granted that these images have meaning. What is then asserted is a relation between these images as arranged in the mind and facts; while belief (as in the case: A believes that B loves C) is explained, after the manner of Hume, as a feeling of assent to a proposition.25 * * * * * Cf. for instance The Principles of Mathematics, ed., Appendix A, 5W-4. Ibid., p. 504. 25 Cf. " On Propositions" (1919); reprinted in Logic and Knowledge ed. R. C. Marsh (London, 1956), ff. For a detailed discussion of Russell's theories from 1905-1919 cf. D. F. Pears: Bertrand Russell and the British Tradition in Philosophy (London, 1968), especially cc. 1, 5, also A. J. Ayer: Russell (London, E. Riverso: La filosofia analitiea in lnghilterra (Roma, pp. 1969)' 196-9. 23 2• ON JUDGING 779 The Return to Judgment One thing that emerges dearly from a review of philosophical opinions since the end of the last century is that the central role of judgment in any theory of knowledge has come to be acknowledged. This is understandable enough where the philosophers are idealists. It is something quite new in the empiricist tradition where the prevalence of the analytical approach had reduced knowing, ultimately, to a succesion of isolated images or impressions which are then united or associated in the mind. It was presumably Russell's interest in logic that led him to restore judgment to something like its rightful place in the knowledge process, even i£ he was more interested in the proposition than in the act itself of judging. This is also true of Wittgenstein who realized that it is through study of the proposition that we can begin to understand how language has meaning. For it is only the proposition that has meaning; a name acquires meaning only in the context of the proposition.26 thought is expressed in the proposition; thought is the proposition as sensed. 27 The proposition is distinct from its assertion and must have meaning prior to its assertion, for what is asserted is precisely the meaning of the proposition. 28 Wittgenstein, however, was not interested in the act of judging or of asserting. This he regarded as a question for psychology and outside the limits of his enquiry. 29 After Wittgenstein the central importance of the proposition for the study of thought and language was taken for granted by the English Analysts. It should be noted, however, that Peter Strawson took Russell to task for neglecting the distinction between the proposition (or sentence) and its assertion. The sentence, he says, has meaning but is never true or false. Denotation, and therefore truth and falsehood, are present only when the sentence is used, in given circumstances, to assert Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, 8.8. Ibid., 4. 28 Ibid., 4.064. 29 Cf. ibid., 4. ll!illa; and Norman Malcolm: 26 27 (London, 1958), p. 86. Ludwig Wittgenstein: A Memoir 780 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL something; and one such use is denotation, if the sentence is used to refer to some particular thing. 30 In this respect Strawson agrees with Gilbert Ryle. 31 It was more to be expected that philosophers of the idealistic tradition would retain or recover the notion of judgment as the ultimate complete unit of thought. Idealism dwells by preference on the immanent contents of consciousness and on the mental acts by which they are seized and synthesized. In England F. H. Bradley had since 1883 32 attacked the empiricist tradition; and it may well be that his influence helped Moore and Russell to appreciate the importance of judgment. 32 " At any rate, Bradley insisted that the basic unit of human knowledge is the judgment, which is far more than an association of ideas or images. In his later and best known work he maintained that" every kind of thought implies a judgment, in this sense that it ideally qualifies reality " ;33 more concisely, " if there is no judgment, there is no thought." 34 The mind does not just entertain a thought or idea; it refers it to reality. And this shows that the traditional logical way of viewing judgment as an abstract unity of ideas is incomplete. To see what judgment is one has to consider it at the moment when it is asserted, for only then does it relate to reality. Reality is always found to imply a " that " and a " what," or, in other words, "existence" and "character." 35 The 30 On Referring" (Mind, 1950); reprinted in A. Flew (ed.): Essays in Conceptual Analysis (London, 1956), pp. 31 " The Theory of Meaning," in A. C. Mace: British Philosophy in Mid-Century (London, 1957), pp. ff. •• The Principles of Logic (Oxford, 1883), especially Bk. I. ••• Cf. D. Pears: "The empiricists operated with ideas rather than with judgements or propositions, and this, Bradley thought, was a mistake. Now the empiricists' neglect of judgements had always been the main target of idealist criticism: it was really the deepest difference between Kant and Hume. What Russell did was to absorb this part of the idealist tradition, and to put it at the service of empiricism. For the new philosophy is really an empiricism based on judgements or propositions instead of heing based on ideas " (" Logical Atomism," in The Revolution in Philosophy, London, 1956; p. 38 Appearance and Reality, ed. (Oxford 1897), p. •• Ibid., p. 150. 85 Ibid., pp. 143, 148. ON JUDGING 781 " what " as grasped by the mind is ideal, " a quality made loose from its own existence." 36 It is this which is represented in the idea, and in the judgment the idea is predicated of a reality, it is used to qualify further the" that" of a subject. 37 "The point is whether with every judgment we do not find an aspect of existence, absent from the predicate but present in the subject, and whether in the synthesis of these aspects we have not got the essence of judgment. And for myself I see no way of avoiding this conclusion." 88 The subj.ect of judgment is thus an actual existence. " In every judgment the genuine .subject is reality, which goes beyond the predicate and of which the predicate is an adjective." But Bradley is careful to add: " The subject is never mere reality, or bare existence without character . . . For judgment is the differentiation of a complex whole, and hence is always analysis and synthesis in one." 39 And as regards existence, surely with Hume's view in mind, he remarks: You will find that the object of thought in the end must be ideal, and that there is no idea which, as such, contains its own existence. The " that " of the actual subject will for ever give a something which is not a mere idea, something which is different from any truth, something which makes such a difference to your thinking, that without it you have not even thought completely. 40 For Bradley truth implies the relationship of the object of one affirmation to all else in reality, so that all reality must form one whole, the Absolute. We find a similar conviction in his younger contemporary Leon Brunschvicg, for whom reality is a whole whose nature is revealed in thought, and especially in the central mental activity of judgment. As he puts it, " the nature of being is dependent (suspendu a) on the nature of the Ibid., p. 144, Ibid. 88 Ibid., p. 145. •• Ibid., p. 149. •• Ibid. In a note on p. 324 Bradley gives us to understand that Bosanquet's 86 87 notion of judgment is similar to his own: " I may refer the reader here to my Principles of Logic, or, rather, to Mr. Bosanquet's Logic, which is, in many points, a great advance on my own work." 782 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL affirmation of being." 41 But his notion of judgment is not the traditional one: By making the judgment of attribution, where the copula signifies the inherence of an attribute in a subject, the exclusive type of judgment and the one to be considered in relation to the problem of truth, the scholastic tradition has patently begged the question. 42 The only reality directly accessible to us is thought itself, and the basic intellectual activity is judgment, for it is only through analysis of the judgment that we come to know the relations expressed in concepts. 43 The unity of judgment precedes the multiplicity of concepts. 44 Judgment is not a relation between two terms. " It is raining," or " I am," express, in the clearest and most simple manner, real acts of affirmation. One must therefore hold that a judgment need contain only one term ... The diversity of forms of judgment suffices to establish that the essential and characteristic element of judgment, perhaps what alone suffices to constitute it, is the copula. 45 It is in the verb that being finds expression; under the form of necessity in the judgment of interiority; under the form of reality in the judgment of exteriority; and under the form of possibility in the judgment of contingency formed by the fusion of the other two. "Every process of the intellect is an effort to grasp being; it results in a judgment; and the verb is charLa modalite du jugement, (1897) 2nd. ed. (Paris, 1934), p. 78; cf. p. 94. Ibid., Introd., iii. 48 Ibid., p. 10. 44 Jacques Havet thus explains this point: "the existence of the objects of knowledge is entirely relative to the truth of the judgment attesting them; the judgment precedes the terms which it brings together and the copula ' is' has no force of existence, but simply expresses the act of synthesis which is the proper function of the mind. The truth of judgment or, in other words, the objectivity of knowledge and, equally, the validity of the assertion of an object's existence, can derive only from the mutual correspondence between the series of relationships united in a single synthesis." In " French Philosophical Tradition between the two Wars," Philosophic Thought in France and the United States, edited by Marvin Farber (Buffalo, 1950), p. 15. 45 La modalite du jugement, p. 15. 41 42 ON JUDGING 783 acteristic o£ the judgment." 46 What is first affirmed is existence, as in the judgment o£ existence: "that is " (cela est) . This is the first form by which the spirit shows, in the presence of things, its power of affirmation. In this judgment the "that," being no more than the indeterminate subject on which the copula confers existence, adds nothing to the copula; the primitive judgment turns out to be the copula . . . whose whole content is summed up in the affirmation of reality ... The " that is " provides the criterion of reality; reality resides in it; it is defined by it.47 In succeeding judgments the mind qualifies this existent (which £or Brunschvicg is ideal and immanent) by means o£ a predicate. 48 This activity is creative; the judgment gives rise to its object. It is the history o£ science which reveals the journey o£ the spirit £rom its first abstract affirmations towards the completely unfolded universe which we call reality. Brunschvicg has made the theory o£ judgment the cornerstone o£ his philosophy. Few more than he have stressed the central role o£ judgment in forming our view o£ reality our theory o£ knowledge, and our metaphysics. I£ judgment is basically the affirmation o£ being, our approach to the question o£ being should be by way o£ the judgment. It is this fundamental conviction, or intuition, which lies at the base o£ his philosophy, and it is well expressed in his own words: If one agrees to designate by two words generally taken as synonymous two ideas which are philosophically distinct, if one designates by copula the union of the two terms of a determinate and concrete judgment, by verb the affirmation of being in general and independently of the particular judgments which manifest it, one can say that the question of the meaning and value of the copula presupposes that the question of the meaning and value of the verb has been solved. For us, this question is the fundamental one of critical philosophy. Beginning with the definition of philosophy we have been led to admit that metaphysics is reduced to the theory of knowledge, that the constitutive act of knowledge is the judgment, •• Ibid., p. 170. 47 Ibid., pp. 117, 118. •• Ibid., pp. 170, 171. 784 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL and that the judgment is characterized by the affirmation of being. 49 Whereas Brunschvicg looks to mathematics to provide the highest type of judgment, Benedetto Croce finds it, on the contrary, in history. Like Brunschvicg he holds that all reality, insofar as known, is immanent to Spirit; but the primary activity of Spirit for him is theoretical. This includes first of all the intuitive grasp of singulars by means of imagination, and then the logical activity of thought which bears on universals. Thought comes to full expression in judgment which is its central and complete act. In it a universal predicate is referred to a singular subject, thus implying a synthesis of concept and intuition, of essence and existence, of logic and history. Croce has little time for those who deal with the judgment from the purely logical point of view. We must free ourselves from the false theories about judgment which for centuries have lazily spread themselves in treatises on logic and which even today are found or have taken root in them. I refer not only to its grammatical conception as a union of two words by means of the verb " to be " (whence formalistic and verbalistic logic), but also to that which makes it consist in the agreement or otherwise of two " concepts." This last, especially, is the worst and most persistent error. The process of freeing oneself from this error began with Kant in particular and was furthered by Fichte and Hegel although they did not bring it to completion. This requires that we see the judgment as the synthesis of representation and concept, of intuition and category, as an act that is at once division and reunion of the concept, of the concrete concept, in the two elements which form its unbreakable unity, the universal and the individual, the logical and the intuitive. In other words: the judgment is always a judgment of fact; and since the fact is nothing more than the history of past or present reality (which form one whole) the judgment is always a historical one. 50 His theory is set out in detail in the second volume of his Filosofia dello Spirito, 51 .especially in Part I, Section 2. Having •• Ibid., p. 41. 50 Saggi Filosofici, VII: Ultimi Saggi (Bari, 1968) : " lntorno all'intuito e al giudizio," p. "'Logica come scienza del concetto puro (1905), Srd. ed., Bari, 1917. ON JUDGING 785 pointed out, in the first three chapters, that abstract and universal judgments are really concealed definitions, he goes on to consider the individual judgment which contains a concept and an individual. He holds that the subject and predicate are distinct only if one is universal and the other not so; that is, if one is a concept and the other not a concept. 52 This means that the subject is a representation, the predicate a concept; and in Croce's theory, where r.epresentation stands for intuition, this means that the individual judgment is a judgment of perception, and this is really an intellectual intuition, since to perceive is to apprehend a thing as having a certain quality. This individual judgment completes the process of knowing as possession of reality. 53 It is the last and most perfect of the acts of knowing; in it the cycle of knowing is closed . . . To regard it as the first act of knowledge, as mere sensibility, and to derive concepts from it, either through psychological mechanism or by choice, is the error of Sensists and Empiricists. To conceive it as a judgment, and nevertheless place it at the start of the knowing process and draw concepts from it by further elaboration, is the error of Rationalists and Intellectualists. Against all these one must firmly hold that the first moment of knowledge is intuitive and not perceptive; and that concepts are not derived from the intellectual act of perception but enter it as constituents of the act itsel£.54 From this it follows that the " is " is Teally a copula only in the individual judgment, for there it unites two distinct elements, one being a representation and the other being logical. 55 The individual judgment always implies that the subject exists, for in it .existence is always predicated. 56 I£ Ibid., c. 4, p. lOS. Ibid., p. 105. 5 * Ibid., p. 107; cf. ibid., P. 4, c. 3, pp. 390 ff. 55 Ibid., c. 5, p. 109. 56 Cf. ibid., p. 117: Such objections as "If existence is predicated it would imply 52 53 that, in the judgment 'A exists,' one could think of both terms separately (namely, A and existence), and that to think of A is already to attribute existence to it, turn out to be sophisms; because A, outside the judgment, cannot be thought but only represented; hence it lacks existentiality, a predicate which it acquires only in the act of judging." 786 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL there were a pure form o£ the existential judgment, it would be this: something exists. This, however, is not really an individual judgment but a concealed definition: reality is what exists. 57 Other types of empirical judgments presuppose the pure existential one and determine its subject through classification, i.e., by reducing it to a class; but to classify is not to judge. 58 Finally Croce comes to identify the judgment of definition and the individual one insofar as in fact they are made by the one actual historical thinker. 59 Passing now from both the empiricist and the idealist schools of thought to more realist ones mention should be made of A. Trendelenburg who, during his mauy years of teaching in Berlin until his death in helped to direct the attention of his students to the philosophy of Aristotle. Although he himself favored a platonic kind of idealism which pointed to the presence of an ideal element in reality, and thought of reality as spiritual and evolving, he examined the epistemological and logical basis of Aristotle's logic which he thus helped to restore to favor. 60 It was partly through his influence that his student Franz Brentano came to appreciate Aristotle's teaching and to seek its help in his opposition to Kant and the Idealists. Already in his Tiibingen dissertation 61 he set himself against Kant by explaining the unity of our experience, not by reference to the transcendental subject (lch denke) but- in the Aristotelean tradition-by invoking the notion of evidence as the experience of an immediate presence. This recall to evidence was to become a central theme in many later trends of philosophy; so too his teaching on the intentionality of psychic acts which, for him, were basically three: representation, or having an Ibid., p. 118. Ibid., c. 6; pp. ff. 59 Ibid., Sect. 3, cap. 1; pp. 133 ff. •• Cf. his Elementa logices aristotelicae (Berlin, 1936); Logische Untersuchungen, ibid., vol. (1840); 3rd. ed. (1870). 61 Von der mannigfachen Bedeutung des Seienden nach Aristoteles (Frieburg im Bresgau, 57 58 ON JUDGING 787 object before the mind; judgment; and affection. Using this notion he could replace Kant's distinction between a posteriori and a priori judgments by that between experience of the abstract universal and experience of the concrete singular as two inseparable modalities of the same reality. Brentano is just as convinced as Bradley, Brunschvicg or Croce that knowledge, in the full sense of the word, is found only in judgment. 62 It is not the first of the acts of the mind; it presupposes the prior activity of representation. 63 But he is equally firm in rejecting the concept of the judgment as a simple union or separation of two representations, for it affirms or denies what is represented. 64 Representation and judgment are two quite distinct attitudes o£ consciousness to the one object; in the first it is just present to the mind; in the second it is affirmed or denied. 65 Judgment does not require two representations, it is quite possible to affirm or deny one and the same object represented. 66 Nor does it require the union o£ two terms, subject and predicate.67 The fundamental form of judgment is what Brentano 62 Psychologie vom empirischen Standpunkt (1874), ed. 0. Kranus, vol. 1 (Leipzig, 1924), p. 195. 68 Ibid., pp. II2, 225, 263; II, (1925) pp. 33, 34. 64 Ibid., p. 200; II pp. 34; 44 ff. 65 Ibid., II, pp. 38, 39,63. On p. 46 he refers to J. S. Mill's A System of Logic, Book I, c. 5. Mill here refers to logicians who " considered a Proposition, or a Judgment, for they used the two words indiscriminately, to consist in affirming or denying one idea of another. To judge was to put two ideas together, or to bring one idea under another, or to compare two ideas, or to perceive the agreement or disagreement between two ideas " (8th ed., London, 1949. p. 56). He then goes on to say: " The notion that what is of primary importance to the logician in a proposition is the relation between the two ideas corresponding to the subject and predicate (instead of the relation between the two phenomena which they respectively express,) seems to me one of the most fatal errors ever introduced into the philosophy of logic; and the principal cause why the theory of the science has made such inconsiderable progress during the last two centuries" (ibid., p. 57). He writes as a logician, one however who recognizes that "to determine what it is that happens in the case of assent or dissent besides putting two ideas together, is one of the most intricate of metaphysical problems" (p.56). 66 Ibid., II, pp. 48, 49. 67 Ibid., I, 200-201; II, 184 ff. 788 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL calls the existential (or subjectless) one, of the type: "A is." This is also called the judgment of inner perception. It does not link a psychic act as subject with existence as a predicate; it is the simple recognition of the psychic phenomenon present in inner consciousness. 68 Hence, not every judgment is the predication of one idea of another. 69 In fact, every type of judgment, categorical as well as hypothetical, can be translated, without change of meaning, into au existential one. For, in order to be able to attribute any predicate to a subject, one must first know that the subject exists. For example, the judgment " no stone is alive " means there does not exist any living stone; " all men are mortal " means there does not exist any immortal man. 70 Hence the "is" of the copula is existential. 71 The categorical judgment is really a double one: one of existence and one of predication. 72 In summarizing his reflections Brentano concludes that the characteristic feature of judgment lies in the way the mind is related to its immanent object; not as just representing it but as affirming or denying its existence. 73 Judgment is thus always basically individual and existential, even though the object is attained in knowledge as something universal. 74 * * * * * Ibid., I, p. f.l01; II, p. 49. Ibid., II, p. 53. 70 Ibid., II, pp. 49; 56-60; 193. 71 Ibid., II, pp. 56-57. 72 Ibid., II, p. 165 ff.; 194 n. 78 Ibid., II, pp. 64-65. 74 This logical teaching is completed by what Brentano has to say in his work on the categories where he speaks of analogy and the immediate evidence of being as prior to all discourse (Kategorienlehre, Leip:>:ig, 1933). In ch. f.! he treats of the plurality of accidental being; in ch. 3 of the double manifestation of being as true or false in affirmation and negation; in ch. 4 of the double mode of being as act and potency; and in ch. 5 of the categorial diversity of being. He maintains that the primary function of analogy is not to control the use of the " being " in discourse but to place thought in contact with the substantiality of things. The category of substance is not an a priori one. It signifies reality and that which is the cause of all its transformations. Analogy, in other words, has a primarily ontological function. By it we can re-unite thought to reality through affirmation and negation. Things can be this or that in innumerable ways; 68 69 ON JUDGING 789 Scholastics and Judgment Scholastics treat of judgment in three contexts: in logic, in psychology, and in their critical theory of knowledge. It seems advisable to take these in turn, selecting some of the best and most widely used works to furnish examples and to follow the evolution of scholastic thinking in this matter. Logic As far as I can make out, Scholastic logicians do not seem to have made up their mind whether they are dealing only with the proposition or with the act of judging also. Perhaps this is due to their view on the nature of logic. One of the accusations levelled against them by modern symbolic logicians is that they approached logic from a presupposed realistic philosophical standpoint, whereas logic should be free from all such presuppositions. This is a question that can be debated; and it they can be real only in one basic way, as substances. Similarly, the proposition can be verified or denied in innumerable ways; there is only one way of being true or false. For more detailed discussion of Brentano's views cf. G. Rossi: Giudizio e raziocinio: Studi sulla logica dei Brentaniani (Milano, 1926) ; A. Kastil: Die Philosophie Franz Brentanos. Eine Einfuhrung in seine Lehre, 2nd ed. (Berne, 1950), L. Gilson: Methode et metaphysique selon Franz Brentano (Paris, 1955) . Oskar Kraus, in his introduction to vol. II of Brentano's Psychologie (pp. xiv-xv), refers to the development of Brentano's notion of judgment by Franz Hillebrand, Anton Marty, and Alfred Kastil. Brentano's views could be profitably discussed in relation to those of Bolzano and Meinong as well as of Husser!, but this article does not pretend to offer anything like a complete historical survey of the subject. The reader will find references to various theories on judgment from 1883 to 1952 in Gilbert Varet: Manuel de Bibliographie Philosophique (Paris, 1956)vol. 11, pp. 659-660. Among others he mentions: F. Miklosich, C. Sigwart, E. Lask, F. Weinhandl, J. Gordin, L. Couturat, D. M. De Petter, E. Morot-Sir, A. Marc. Among the numerous more recent works not mentioned by Varet I would draw attention to: E. Vinacke: The Psychology of Thinking (New York, 1952); D. M. Johnson: The Psychology of Thought and Judgement (New York, 1955); P. T. Geach: Mental Acts (London, 1957); M. Pradines: Traite de psychologie generale, 2 vol. (Paris, 1956-1958); H. W. B. Joseph: An Introduction to Logic, 2nd. ed. (Oxford, 1957); F. C. Bartlett: Thinking (London, 1958); F. Resile: Psychology of Judgement and Choice (New York, 1961); M. Navatril: Les tendances constitutives de la pensee vivante, 2 vol. (Paris, 1968). 790 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL may well be that it is only in the fully formalized form of symbolic logic that a purely logical study of the proposition is possible. At any rate, the fact is that Scholastic logicians do treat both of the proposition and of the judgment, sometimes without drawing any clear distinction between them. This may be due in part to the fact that they rely on Aristotle, in whom, as B. Lonergan "this distinction between the merely synthetic element in judgment (the conjunction or not of the terms) and, on the other hand, the positing of synthesis is not drawn clearly. In Thomist writings, I believe, the use of Aristotelean terminology obscures to some extent a more nuanced analysis." Aristotle concentrates on one kind of sentence, namely, the proposition, thesentencewhichhastruthodalsity. This, in its simple form, consists in affirmation or denial. It is a statement, with meaning, as to the presence of something in a subject or its absence, in the present, past, or future. An affirmation is a positive assertion of something about something, a denial is a negative assertion. 76 From the start it is not clear whether we are dealing only with the proposition, or the assertion, or both together. One of the best modem thomistic manuals of philosophy was published by Fr. J. Gredt in 1909. In this edition as in succeeding ones, in the section of logic concerning judgment, we are told that the essence of judgment consists in affirmation or negation, and in perceiving the agreement (or lack of it) between two concepts. Three things are necessary for a judgment: a) the apprehension of the subject and predicate; b) comparison of these; c) perception of the agreement (or not) of one with the other. This is immediately followed by the judgment, which consists formally in predication. Although from a logical point of view judgment is complex, from a physical point of view it is a simple act by which the mind, perceiving the agreement or disagreement of subject with predicate, declares that they do or do not agree. Such perception · •• Verbum: Word and Idea in Aquinas (London, 1968), p. 49. •• Cf. On lnterp., cc. 4-6; ON JUDGING 791 implies that the mind produces a new concept by which this agreement or its opposite are represented. On this view, the judgment implies two concepts, while the act of judging requires at least three stages in its formation. 77 We may refer to this widely-held view as the three-stage notion of judgment. We find a more sophisticated version of this theory in another well-known Thomist, J. Maritain, whose Petite logique (Elements de Philosophie, II) was first published in 1926. In chap. 2 he deals with judgment, first of all in itself, and then as expressed in the proposition. In the first section, on the judgment itself, he gives his analysis of judgment, noting that this is a question more for psychology than for logic/ 8 He distinguishes five stages in the process leading to the formulated judgment. First, there is the apprehension which provides the mind with two concepts. Next, ther:e is the act of comparing these two concepts and of forming a mental enunciation in which they are linked by the copula as subject and predicate. This requires the formation of a new mental concept of the identity (or diversity) of the terms. Then the mind compares this enunciation with the real object about which it is formed. Next, on perceiving that the enunciation holds good in regard to the real object, the mind passes to the affirmation of the enunciation. This is formally the act of judging, that which sums up the simple essence of judgment as affirmation or denial by which the mind formally thinks the acts of being insofar as it is act. Finally, this judgment is expressed in what is called the judicative proposition. We may refer to this explanation as the five-stage notion of judgment. 79 For a quite different approach we turn to G. H. Joyce, an English Jesuit who was thoroughly familiar with the work of his follow countrymen in the field of logic and aware of the theories of Bradley and Brentano. Like practically all Scholas77 Elementa Philosophiae Aristotelico-Thomisticae, I, 26; 9th ed. (Freiburg i. B., 1951), pp. 27,28. 78 3rd. ed. (Paris, 1946), pp. 105-117. 70 A similar view is advanced by several other Scholastic writers; some examples will be given later. 792 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL tic logicians he assumes that the judgment implies two concepts, and he has no hesitation in basing his logic on a realistic psychology. He tr.eats of judgment in ch. 3 of his Principles of Logic, Part I, first published in 1908, insofar as the judgment is expressed in the proposition, which is defined, with Aristotle, as an expression in which one affirms or denies an attribute of a subject. 80 In ev.ery affirmative judgment the two terms are different mental expressions of the same object. Subject and predicate are different concepts of the same thing; " the subject directly expresses the thing, i.e., that to which attributes belong; the predicate expresses the thing as qualified by a particular attribute or form." 81 If the subject happens to be a .significant term (e. g., "this bronze object") , i.e., if it expresses an attribute belonging to the thing, " the proposition declares the coinherence in the same subject of two ' forms of being ' expressed by the terms, though the form signified by the subj.ect is assumed, that signified by the predicate is asserted." 82 The copula of the judgment expresses the being which is determined by the form expressed by the predicate, for only what is conceiv.ed as possessed of being can be determined. The being which is directly and immediately expressed by the copula is being in the conceptual order, just as the forms expressed by the predicate are forms as conceived. The essential function of the copula is thus not to affirm existence in nature but the objective identity of subject and predicate (or their diversity). 83 " The copula declares that the object expressed by the subject, and that expressed by the predicate, are identical." 84 More briefly, "the copula expresses 'being,' the predicate shows us the nature of that 'being'." 85 Judgment is a simple act of the mind. It is not made up of three separate acts corresponding to subject, predicate, and 80 Srd. ed. (London, 19fl6), p. 39. Ibid., p. 41. 8 • Ibid., c. 6, § 2; p. 94 88 Ibid., pp. 40-42-44. 8 ' Ibid., c. 7, § 1; p. 105. 85 Ibid., c. 9, § 4; p. 146. 81 ON JUDGING 793 copula; but in affirmation and negation there is conjunction or separation of two concepts. 86 The primary form of judgment is that in which the subject is a concrete singular, the predicate a form apprehended as belonging to it. 87 There is indeed no singular concept. But " we may employ the universal concept to designate a particular individual by using the demonstrative pronoun, v. g., 'this gold is yellow'." 88 Hence "only in our primary judgements-those in which the subject is an individual substance and the predicate a real form-is the 'being' of the copula the ' being ' of real existence." 89 Finally, we may note that Joyce will not accept Bradley's definition of judgment as " the reference of an ideal content to reality." 90 This would imply that the true subject is not the grammatical one but the reality itself, and that the whole judgment is of the nature of a predicate representing attributes which are referred to the real world, with the result that the copula would be meaningless. We must hold, on the contrary, that subject and predicate belong to the thing as conceived; they are not the real entities referred to by these terms. 91 This remark reveals that Joyce is still thinking of the judgment in terms of the proposition and as therefore involving two concepts rather than of the judgment as the simple act of the mind. This is understandable since he is speaking as a logician. Psychology The authors of scholastic manuals of philosophy frequently have nothing at all to say on judgment in the section devoted to psychology. They seem to assume that all that needs to be said has been already said, in the section on logic, even though they may point out, when treating of the validity of knowl•• Ibid., pp. 44-45. •• Ibid., p. 48. 88 Ibid., c. 7, § 6; p. 118. 89 Ibid., c. 7, § 4; p. 114. In § 5 (pp.116, 117) Joyce dismisses Brentano's theory, and a somewhat similar one of J. Venn. 90 He refers to Bradley's Principles, Bk. I, c. 1, § 17; c. !it, § 5. 91 Ibid., c. 7, § 6; pp. 117-118. 794 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL edge, that it is only in the judgment that truth is formally attained as such. 92 Others do touch on the nature of judgment, though only to recall what they had previously said in their logic.93 There are, however, some exceptions. One or two examples of such must suffice for our purpose. The Psychology o£ M. Maher in the Stoneyhurst series, has been in constant demand since its first edition in 1890. The first part of ch. 15 is devoted to the judgment, and we are told that the judicial act is the type of perfect knowledge, 94 although the highest function of intelligence is not judgment or reasoning but intuition, i.e., apprehension. 95 Two definitions are offered: the mental act by which we perceive the agreement or disagreement betwen two ideas; the mental act by which something is asserted or denied; and St. Thomas is quoted as seeing judgment as an act of intellect whereby the mind combines or separates two terms by affirmation or denial. 96 When the judgment is analyzed, we find what is, in essence, the five-stage theory as proposed by Maritain, with the qualification that affirmation and denial are not added to but included in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of subject and predicate. 97 The logical point of view is still dominant in this psychological approach to judgment, even though the author holds that thought is differently viewed by psychology and logic.98 P. Siwek also treats in some detail of judgment in his work Psychologia M etaphysica, Lib. III, c. 1, a. 4. Having rejected the cartesian thesis that judgment belongs to the will, he •• E. g., C. Boyer: Cursus Philosophiae, 2 vol., 2nd. ed. (Bruges, 1939); H. Grenier: Cursus Philosophiae, 3 vol., 3rd. ed. (Quebec, 1947, 1948); R. E. Brennan: Thornistic Psychology (New York. 1941). 98 V. g., J. Donat: Surnrna Philosophiae Christianae, vol. 5 (Psychologia, Innsbruck, 1936), pp. 198-199; cf. vol. 1 (Logica), ibid. (1935), pp.94-95. 9 ' 9th ed. (London, 1933), p. 315. 95 Ibid., p. 317. 96 Ibid., p. 314. 97 Ibid., pp. 315-318; cf. pp. 234, 243 fl'. He quotes Ueberweg (Logie, § 67) and Bradley (Principles of Logic, cc. 1 and 2) as supporting this view (ibid., p. 816). 98 Ibid., pp. 825-826. ON JUDGING 795 defines judgment as that act by which the intellect pronounces on the id.entity or discrepancy of its terms and further says that it expresses the relation of these concepts to being. 99 Formally it consists in the act by which the intellect perceives the identity or discr.epancy of the two terms; it requires the copula as asserting such identity or discrepancy, and hence it is not merely a union of concepts. Neither is it a mere ratification or approbation of knowledge already possessed as, among others, Tongiorgi, Palmieri, Donat, and Frobes are said to have maintained; while such authors as Sanseverino, Mendive, Boedder, Mercier, De Backer and Remer are quoted in favor of the author's view.100 In proving his thesis he calls judgment the act by which the intellect formally adheres to truth, which means that it explicitly knows that its concept conforms to the conceived object 101 ; yet he does not conclude from this that the judgment is the known referring of the concept to the object. He does, however, hold that it is a simple act. It requires more than the understanding of the terms or their composition. It demands that the objective identity of the terms be perceived and that this identity be expressed in a new concept. 102 One more example will be enough to show how such psychologists seem to be caught between two fires, with the result that they appear unable to decide whether-as the logicians tell them-judgment implies comparison of two mental terms, or whether, as their own experience suggests, it is just one simple act by which the mind affirms or denies being. Although they give both views, they do not ask if they are compatible. Usually they are content to say that judgment can be considered either from a logical or a psychological point of view, but they continue to hold that even from a psychological point of view the judgment requires mental comparison of two concepts. This is the position adopted by R. Jolivet in his PsyOp. cit., Romae, 1948, pp. 314-315. Ibid., p. 322. 101 Ibid., p. 323. 102 Ibid., p. 325. 99 100 796 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL chologie.103 Having distinguished the logical from the psychological consideration 104 he, as a psychologist, describes judgment as the act of the mind perceiving and affirming an intelligible relation between two objects of thought. 105 At the same time he sees the essence of judgment in the act of affirming, or denying, the existence of a subject or of a determination of a subject. 106 The copula therefore always refers to existence. In the judgment of attribution existence is only signified whereas in the existential judgment the real existence of the subject is affirmed.107 Hence judgment is an absolutely simple and indivisible act, for it consists essentially in affirmation; it is essentially the affirmation of being. 108 Jolivet also asks which is prior, the concept or the judgment. His answer is based on the distinction between the order of exercise (i.e., of actual performance) and that of specification. From the first point of view, or chronologically, judgment precedes concept since thought takes place only in the form of judgment. From the point of view of its specification, and hence of logical priority, the concept precedes judgment since judgment presupposes that the objects of thought have been grasped. This does not imply acceptance of Goblot's view (Logique, Paris, 1918, p. 87) that the concept is only a sum of virtual judgments, with the result that judgment must be regarded as the only act of the mind; for this would entail a regression to infinity because these virtual judgments themselves are formed of concepts. 109 In regard to this question raised by Jolivet refer:ence should be made to the theory of the Spanish philosopher Angel Amor Ruibal who died in 1930. At the origin of all intellectual activity he placed a pr.elogical notion of being, one which is utter108 Traite de Philosophie, vol. , Bk. Ibid., p. 516. Ibid., p. 106 Ibid., p. 518. 107 Ibid. 108 Ibid., p. 109 Ibid., pp. 519, m 105 c. 4; 4th. ed. (Lyon/Paris, 1950), 515- ON JUDGING 797 ly simple and unqualified either as to comprehension or to extension. This notion is gained by intellectual intuition on the occasion of perception, and it signifies nothing more than " it," or" something." It implies a synthesis of sensible and of intellectual apprehension through a kind of primitive reflection; it is thus at the same time both universal and particular, and capable of representing the constituent elements of things (comprehension) and their singularity (extension) ; it can thus serve as foundation for both predicates and subjects of judgments. It is an ontological-noetic synthesis of the real and the ideal. From the start being and knowledge are linked in this primitive notion of being; and what this notion means is existence, for this is what we first know. Since this idea is both universal and particular, i.e., shows itself under two modalities which imply each other, it can be qualified and determined by means of judgment in two ways, in regard to the compatibility of notes in any thing, and in regard to the existential realization of things; and this is taken to mean that the judgement is always synthetico-analytic. The ideal judgment (affirming compatibility) implies the real one (affirming realization), and vice versa; both are derived from the original synthesis. The first full act of the intellect is therefore the judgment, and through judgment ideas come into being. Judgment allows for the parallel development of the aspects of being and knowledge, while ideas express the static aspect of judgment. These ideas express both the real and the ideal values latent in the primitive notion of being. At the source therefore of our ideas we find a fundamental judgment, our primary affirmation, which can be .expressed as: something (or "it") exists. This judgment is the mental expression of the primary fact attained through knowledge, namely, that the individual thing perceived by the senses has .existence.110 110 Ruibal treats of this matter mainly in vol. 8 of his collected works: Los problemas fundamentales de la filosofia comparada y del dogma in 10 vols., (Santander, n. d.), and vol. IX, 121-149. cf. B. Martinez Ruiz: " El acto del Juicio segun Angel Amor Ruibal," in Verdad y Vita (Madrid) XI (1958), 885-485. 798 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL Epistemology It is only in works on the critical theory of knowledge that Scholastics finally free themselves from this half-logical, halfpsychological treatment of judgment and begin to deal with the act of judging in its full reality, at the same time acknowledging its central significance if one is to do full justice to the exigencies of thought. This is perhaps only to be expected, for Scholastics had always held that truth, in the complete sense of the word as truth which is consciously recognized as such, is to be found only in the judgment. The attention of authors concerned with the critique of knowledge was bound to center, as reflection proceeded, on the nature of this activity of the mind. This development is no doubt due in part to the influence of those non-Scholastic writers who have already been mentioned, but other influences were also at work. D. Dubarle notes that mathemational logic helped to bring out the difference (already stressed by Kant) between, on the one hand, universal and particular judgments and, on the other, singular ones. Universal judgments enuntiate either inclusions (categoreal judgments) or formal implication (hypothetical judgments); particular judgments are regarded as negations of such universal ones. The singular judgment enuntiates the relation (of pertinence) of an individual subject to a group, whereas the individual subject is not designated in either the universal or the particular judgment. Aristotle, it appears, does not treat of singular propositions, perhaps because science, as he conceives it, does not deal with what is singular. This may explain why Scholastics had come to neglect the singular judgment. 111 It is also likely that the Gestalt psychologists, early in this century, helped to draw the attention of critical thinkers to the importance of knowledge of the singular existent, and therefore of the judgment in which it finds expression. Starting from 111 D. Dubarle: "La logique du jugement et les categories chez Kant,'' in Rev. Sc. Ph. Th. (1968). pp. 3-37. He notes, however, that logicians after the Summulae of Peter of Spain (c. and the Summa Totius Logicae (c. 1800) do treat of singular propositions. ON JUDGING 799 the observation that movement is perceived, not as a heap of sensations but as a whole, they advanced the theory that what is grasped in perceptual experience is a unitary whole which cannot be explained merely as the result of individual stimuli. The fact that man enjoys a direct perception of configurations was seen as leading to a new approach in the analysis of consciousness, one which restores the singular judgment to its proper place at the starting place of the development of thought. When Scholastic philosophers began to take an inter.est in phenomenology, an interest that has steadily grown since about 1930, they found that Husserl had been engaged in a search for a new and radical way to lay secure foundations for valid knowledge and for science. From the beginning he had realized the importance of judgment for any critical theory of knowledge; and, in relation to Bolzano, Brentano, and such logicans as Bergmann, had refined his own views on the nature of judgment. He came to see that every proposition, even the most abstract, is related to something individual which must carry with it some kind of evidence. This means that the first truths and evidences must be individual ones, and that all evidence rests on pre-predicative evidence. Logical operations are therefore to be based on pre-logical intuitions, for we can explain the spontaneous activity of the mind only as based on prelogical data. The analysis of logical truth should, in consequence, trace its genealogy in preceding acts of consciousness and in pre-predicative evidence. Husserl's repeated investigations into this topic throughout his previous writings are summed up in his Erfahrung und Urteil as edited by L. Landgrebe in 1939.112 Husserl's influence remains active in the Existentialist philosophers who seem to have been mainly responsible for the " conversion " of a growing number of Scholastics from a too 112 For Husserl's ideas on judgment in the Logische Untersuchungen cf. M. Farber: The Foundation of Phenomenology (Cambridge, Mass., 1943), especially pp.l75-179; 36fl ff. 800 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL abstract and essentialist attitude to a more concrete and existentialist one. It was they who placed the problems of the knowledge of existent and individual reality and of personal self-consciousness at the very centre of philosophical reflection. They dealt with man's experience of being; they raised the question of a concrete, subject and intuitive grasp of singular and existent reality and of existence itself. Authors such as Marcel, Lavelle, and Heidegger, despite their many differences, agreed that the mind is, by nature, open to being, and that the basic affirmation could be expressed in such formulas as: that is; things are there; reality exists. Scholastics, under the influence of this stimulating trend of thought, came to realize that their approach to philosophy had been too academic and abstract and to appreciate the decisive importance of the act of judging. To confirm this interpretation of the way scholastic thought has developed one has only to compare the articles and books written by Scholastics up to about 1946, when the existentialist " wave " broke over Europe, with what many of them began to publish from about that time onwards. 113 One notes that from about Scholastics are to be found taking up the question of the nature of judgment. Some of them did so in an attempt to refute the theories of such Idealists as Brunschvicg, for example, G. Rabeau and G. des Lauriers. 114 Such writers usually presuppose the commonly accepted notion of judgment as a union of two concepts although des Lauriers pointed out that it is not just a simple juxtaposition of concepts but a union of intelligibility and existence. Various other articles appeared in this period, for instance, those of Johan, Noel, and Wilpert. 115 If they did not lead to any revision of Cf. G. Van Riet: L'Epistemologie thomiste (Louvain, 1946), c. 5. G. Rabeau: "Concept et jugement," Rev. Sc. Ph. Th. 10 (1921), pp. 825-851; 525-547; cf. also Le jugement d'Existence (Paris, 1938); G. des Lauriers: "L'Activite de jugement en Mathematiques," Rev. Sc. Ph. Th. 28 (1985): I. Concept et jugement," 407-433; 24 (1936): "II. Intelligibilite et existence,'' 76-108; "ill. De l'unite a l'un existant," 269-298. 11 " R. Johan: " La nature du jugement," Revue de Philasophie 81 468118 114 ON JUDGING 801 the accepted notion of judgment, they at least showed that there was a revival of interest in the topic; and Johan stressed the fact that judging is a simple perfection of the intellect, an act distinguished by its relation to existence, and that the formal element of judgment lies in assent or affirmation as consequent upon the conceptual synthesis formed in the mind. Significant contributions from two writers around this time seem to have failed to gain the notice they deserved. B. M. Xiberta in a short but tr.enchant article, and in a later one on the same topic, made it clear that for St. Thomas the struCture of judgment was very important indeed, and that his teaching on this point has wide implications. 116 Xiberta maintained that a misunderstanding of the nature of judgment lies at the root of the difference between Scholastic and modern philosophy. For Locke and Kant judgment is the :6rst act of the intellect, since it is only the senses that afford man any contact with external reality. By restricting intuition to the senses they were forced to see the activity of the intellect as that of coordinating images or phenomena by means of concepts and to conceive judgment as this kind of conceptual ordering of material presented by the senses. This, according to Xiberta, leads both to a denial of the true function of the concept and to a radical distortion of the act of judgment. He himself interpreted St. Thomas as holding that judgment does not require two concepts, but that it does require two apprehensions, one of which is the direct apprehension (by means of the concept) of the predicate, while the other is indirect, by means of the senses, and bears on the subject. Many of the texts in which St. Thomas treats of judgment and of its relation of existence and truth are examined and "La critique du jugement selon S. Thomas," in A us des Geisteswelt (Miinster, 1935), pp. 710-719; P. Wilpert:" Das Urteil als Trager der Wahrheit nach Thomas von Aquin," Philosophisches Jahrbuch 46 (1933), pp. 56-75. 116 "Momentum doctrinae S. Thomae circa structuram iudicii," Acta Pontificiae Academiae S. Thomae, Nova Series I (1934), pp. 1-9; " Opposita sententia de apprehensione origo est atque causa divergentis directionis scholasticae et modemae philosophiae," Sapientia Aquinatis (Romae) 1955, pp. 367-374. 489; L. Noel: des Mittelalters (Zeitschrift Grabmann) AMBROSE MCNICHOLL correlated in a notable article by B. J. Muller-Thym. 117 He deals with judgment more from the metaphysical than from the logical point of view. What is characteristic of judgment is its power to affirm " to be," the act of being, whether simply or in some respect (e. g., accidental or substantive); and the subject of judgment is, ultimately, a substantial being which is attained either directly or indirectly, mediately or immediately. In judgment the intellect expresses a certain "to be" which is exercised by the thing that is known. "The subject is that through which the thing subjected to predication is signified; it is that pure mean, then, through which the thing subjected to predication possesses such determination as the predicate exercises in its regard " (p. . This means that the relation of predicate to subject is analogous to that between form and matter. It also implies that in the judgment there are not two understood; there concepts as representing two thing which is but one thing, one intelligible existence, one act of the intellect (p. 239) . There is, however, a third intelligible component, which is neither predicate nor subject, but which both signifies the " to be " of the thing which is judged and is the "esse" of the ens rationis composed of predicate and subject. The " to be " of the judgment signifies that which is exercised by the predicate in the subject; and when this signification is known we can speak of truth in the full sense of the word. Had these articles received the attention they deserve they could have led to an earlier clarification of the thomistic theory of judgment. As it turned out, however, this had to wait until the impact of the Existentialists had stimulated Scholastics to turn to the study of judgment. Some seem to have been urged in this way to study judgment mainly for its own sake, even if they continued to treat of it mainly along the lines which had come to be generally accepted. Others, grappling with the problems raised by the Existentialists, dealt with judgment as the only act by which we obtain adequate knowledge of the 117 "The To be which signifies the Truth of propositions," Proceedings of the American Catholic Philosophical Association 16 (1940), pp. 280-254. ON JUDGING 803 act of existence, thus coming closer to grips with the specific nature of the knowledge had through judgment. In the former group P. Hoenen is of particular importance. His Reality and Judgment according to St. Thomas 118 is a sustained and systematic attempt to deal with judgment itself, what he calls a phenomenology of judgment, and its relations to existence and reality; this is followed by an examination, from the epistemological point of view, of the various types of judgment. All through the work there is constant recall to the text of St. Thomas. Thomists were thus invited to study the many key passages where Aquinas speaks of the nature and functions of judgment. This work ensured that any later thomistic critique of knowledge would have to take due account of the judgment as the act in which the knowing process reaches its term and by which the mind returns to concrete and existent reality. Hoenen himself continued to regard two concepts as essential for judgment, insisting, however, that the concepts must be grasped as a unity, that the subject is taken materially while the predicate is taken formally, and that what distinguishes judgment is its power to affirm existence. However, universal judgment are still given priority over singular ones, with the result that the singular judgment is interpreted as an application of the universal one to sense data. More or less the same notion of judgment is found in the wellknown critical works of J. de Vries and L. M. Regis. 119 Both fully recognize the central role of judgment in any critical theory of knowledge but continue to regard it as implying two concepts; in consequence, they attach more weight to universal than to singular judgments. 120 This was indeed the typical "thomist" attitude of the period, as represented by J. Maritain, 118 (Chicago, 1952), translated from the original French (Rome, 1946) by H. F. Tiblier. 119 J. de Vries: La pensee et l'etre (Louvain/Paris, 1962); this is a revised version of Denken und Sein (Freiburg i Br., 1937); cf. also his "Urteilsanalyse und Seinserkenntnis," Scholastik 28 (1953), 382-399; L. M. Regis: Epistemology (New York, 1959). 120 De Vries, La pensee et l'etre, 68-70; Regis, op. cit., 312 fl'. 804 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL M.-D. Roland-Gosselin, and R. Garrigou-Lagrange. 121 The latter, for instance, held that the intellect first acquires the notion of being and formulates the principles of non-contradiction and identity before it can make any existential judgment. A more free and open-minded attitude to thomistic texts was encouraged by Neo-Scholastic thinkers, notably J. Marechal and a group of later philosophers who owe much to him. In general, one can say that these writers stress the dynamism revealed in the knowing-process, its openness to horizons that are infinite if not divine, while at the same time they pay special attention to man's knowledge of singualr reality, and therefore to the relation of intellect to sense. This concern with human ways of knowing existent being is evident in Marechal's study on the psychology of mystics. 122 In his better known work, 123 his attempt to justify the validity of knowledge in the light of modern theories, especially that of Kant, he insisted that any critical reflection on knowledge must center on an in121 J. Maritain: Les degres du savoir (Paris, 1932); M.-D. Roland-Gosselin: Essai d'une critique de la connaissance (Le Saulchoir-Paris, 1932); R. GarrigouLagrange: "Notre premier jugement d'existence selon saint Thomas d'Aquin," in Studia Mediaevalia in hon. P. Martin (Bruges, 1948), 289-302. Along the same lines cf.: F. M. Tyrrell. The Role of Assent in Judgement (Washington, 1948); "The Nature and Function of the Act of Judgement," New Scholasticism 26 (1952) 393-423; F. A. Cunningham: " Judgement in St. Thomas," The Modern Schoolman, 26 (1954), 185-212; "The Second Operation and the Assent vs. Judgement in St. Thomas," New Scholasticism 31 (1957), 1-32; R. W. Schmidt: "Judgement and Predication in a realistic Philosophy," ibid. 29 (1955), 318-326; J. W. Elders: "Le premier principe de Ia vie intellectuelle," Revue Thomiste 70 (1962), 571-586; J. Gironella: Corso de cuestiones filosoficas (Barcelona, 1963), p. 54; G. Giannimi: Ateismo e Filosofia (Roma, 1970), c. 4. One new line of approach was opened up by G. Girardi in his article: "Fenomenologia del guidizio e assolutezza della verita," Doctor Communis (Roma) 13 (1960), pp. 19-30. He sets out to show that it is the nature of judgment to place itself as absolute; otherwise it has no meaning. Hence, if we retain any meaningful notion of judgment, we must also assent to the existence of absolute truth. He notes (p. 24) that one should distinguish the enunciation (which represents a relation between concepts) from assent to the enunciation. It is only when there is assent that there is judgment. 122 Etudes sur la psychologie des Mystiques (Paris, 1924), pp. 70-131. 128 Le point de depart de la metaphysique (Bruges/Paris), 19!l3 ff. ON JUDGING 805 vestigation into the act of judging; :r24 and he undertook such an investigation. 125 If he does continue to speak of two concepts, he stresses far more the fact that the subject in the judgment stands for the suppositum known through the senses from the start, and that judgment consists essentially in relating an intelligible content to an object, thus leading the mind from immanence towards transcendence. 126 This line of investigation was takeu up and carried further by K. Rahner in a study which first appeared in 1939 and which reached a wider public in its second edition. 127 It is an attempt to present a thomistic metaphysics of knowledge, starting from an exegesis of Summa Theol., I, q. 84, a. 7, where St. Thomas deals with the " conversio ad phantasma" as an element of human knowledge. For St. Thomas, as Rahner interprets him, 128 the general concept is known only in this conversio ad phantasma; which means that our primary type of knowledge is concerned with singular existent reality, and that all objective knowledge is the relation of a general concept to a" this." Rahner speaks of the two concepts of a judgment but is careful to point out that the judgment is no mere liaison of two concepts; it is the1 application of general knowledge, as a possible synthesis of subject and predicate, to an object existing in itself. We have knowledge, in the full sense of the word, when the affirmative synthesis of subject and predicate is referred to the thing in itself. The function of the subject is to indicate this thing, the suppositum, to which the predicate (the general element) is referred. Knowledge is thus the designation of a composite reality (eompositum) insofar as it is a synthesis of a form and of a suppositum. The influence of Heidegger is more apparent in the thought of J. B. Lotz than in the early work of Rahner. In his Das Ibid., vol. 5 (Louvain/Paris, 1926), pp. 78 fl'. Ibid., sect. II, c. 5 (pp. 56-280); cf. also sect. III, c. 1. 126 Ibid., p. 107 Geist in Welt (Innsbruck, 1989); ed. (Mtinchen, 1957); French trans. by R. Givord and H. Rochais, L'Esprit dans le monde (Toulouse, 1968). 128 Ibid., especially Part II, c. 8. 12 ' 125 806 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL Urte£l und das Sein 129 he approaches the question of being through an analysis of the judgment, since he holds that judgment is the primitive place where being, and hence also transcendence, appear. Judgment, as St. Thomas taught (v. g., ibid.,. II-II, q. 173, a. 2; I Con. Gent., c., 59; In Boeth. de Trin., q. 6, a. 2) is not only the completion of knowledge but also the only act by which existence is affirmed (v. g., I Sent., d. 38, q. 1, a. 3; I Perih. lect. 10; lect. 8, 108; In Boeth. de Trin., q. 5, a. 3) . In the course of his analysis Lotz notes that the object of our primitive judgment is individual, and that our universal judgments are derivative. He interprets the judgment as the affirmation of the synthesis of quiddity and individuality in one being. It is not a simple liaison of subject and predicate for it expresses a relation of the mind to its object, and it involves an assertion, or positing, of being. Lotz, however, is more interested in the metaphysical implications of judgment than in its psychological structure. In the works of B. Lonergan we find a full appreciation of the role of judgment in knowing. In his Verbum: Word and Idea in Aquinas 130 he still speaks of the synthesis of two concepts in judgment 131 but as leading to one act of understanding expressed in the combination of the two. It results from reflective activity which is a return from such a synthesis to its source in sense and in intellectual light. The judgment is the self-expression of the grasp of the necessary connection between the sources and the synthesis. 132 This analysis of the knowing process is carried further in Collection (New York, 1967) with a critique of the static essentialism and closed conceptualism which looks on science as deduced from principles whose terms are had by an unconscious process of abstraction 129 First published as Sein unit Wert (Paderborn, 1938); revised, under present title (Miinchen, 1957); French trans. by R. Givord (Le jugement et l'etre) (Paris, 1963); cf. especially c. 2 .. sect. 8. For a critique cf. R. Cenal: "El juicio y el ser," Rivista de Filosofia (Madrid) 27 (1959), pp, 489-496. 130 Notre Dame, 1967 (London, 1968); first published in Theological Studies 1946-1949. 131 Ibid., pp.,49, 51. 132 Ibid., pp. 64-66. ON JUDGING 807 from sensible data, so that science is seen as matter of comparing terms, discovering necessary nexus, and grinding out all the possible conclusions. 133 For Lonergan, on the contrary, terms are due to acts of understanding as insights into sensible or imagined data. Concepts e:J..'})ress insights, and insights grasp forms immanent in sensible presentations. 134 Every judgment involves a simple act of positing or rejecting; every human judgment in this life rests, in the last analysis, upon contingent matters of fact; no synthesis of concepts, of itself, constitutes a judgment. On this view, on its cognitional side, there can be no human knowledge of real possibility or of real necessity without matter-of-fact judgments; and on its ontological side there can exist no real necessities without existing essences and no real possibilities without existing active or passive potencies. You will find that in Insight this radical rejection of essentialism is worked out in detail. Judgment is, not synthesis, but positing or rejecting synthesis. 135 In Insight (London, 1957) the psychological process of knowing is studied in great detail, with special attention to judgment in c. 9. Judgment pertains to the third stage of the process (reflection; the other two are: presentation and for knowledge is a cumulative process developing from presentation through insight to judgment. The proper content of judgment, its specific contribution to cognitional process, consists in the answers: yes, or no. "The ultimate basis of our knowing is not necessity but contingent fact, and the fact is established, not prior to our engagement in ! adequate grasp of a concrete existent, as opposed to abstract knowledge. He puts forward three main reasons. First, man is conscious of the abstract character of the content of his knowledge. This implies that the concretely determined object is accessible to him. The dynamism of knowledge is ordained to a more perfect grasp of such an object. Second, knowledge presents itself as bearing on a form in a subject which in its concreteness exceeds what that form represents. Third, judgment consists in reducing an abstract content of thought to something which exists, to a concrete subject. Not all judgments do this directly, but those which do not must rest on such a judgment as their foundation. Hence knowledge, particularly as expressed in judgment, implies an intellectual grasp of a concrete existent; and to .explain this we have to invoke the intervention of sense. This conclusion is re-inforced by the consideration that being, as transcendental, is not really abstract since it includes everything, even the eoncrete determinateness of the singular existent. Moreover, every judgment implies a grasp of the content of the notion of being, of which the abstract form (predicated in the judgment) appears as an .explicit but inadequate expression. This notion of being is confused-the role of the form is to render it more explicit. De Petter's influence in the Netherlands has been considerable but restricted in other countries since he preferred to write in Flemish. His realistic account of judgment can be found in the article: "Zin en grond van het oordeel," (Tijdschrift voo1" Philosophie 11 (1949) , pp. and in his BegTip en weTkelijkheid (Hilversum, 1964). As was perhaps only to be .expected, the thomists of this period were more interested in existence itself, in its relation to metaphysics, than in the nature of judgment by which it is affirmed. C. Fabro, for instance 167 showed that the " esse " which, for St. Thomas, is the object of judgment, is not existence as the act of an essence which is really distinct from it 167 In various articles, now included in Partecipazione e causalita, Torino, 1960; cf. especially pp. 43-45; 52-53; 58-59; 103-104; 163-167; 234-237; 547. 816 AMBROSE MCN!CHOLL but the esse of a synthesis; for the judgment, as such, only affirms that a real synthesis corresponds to the mental one of subject and predicate. L. B. Geiger was also more interested in the metaphysical implications of judgment than in its structure. Although critical of Gilson's thesis, he agreed that the act of .existence could not be properly represented by a concept. Our first concept (namely, that of quelque chose qui est) represents an object given to our senses and understood by the intellect as being. 168 While he holds that the two terms of the judgment need not both be concepts, since the subject may stand for a concrete thing, he defines the role of judgment as that of affirming a correspondence between what we grasp and what we conceive. It recomposes our partial views of the obj.ect in a mental synthesis, and then affirms that this synthesis is conformed to reality. 169 One effect of these discussions was to urge students of St. Thomas to reexamine the texts where he deals with judgment, especially when he considers its relation to existence. L. M. Regis made a careful study of these texts in order to show that Gilson could not invokeS. Thomas in support of his theory. 170 J. Isaac 171 acknowledged the primacy of existential judgments, and allowed that existence is grasped only by means of the judgment. He held that the judgment presupposes a complex apprehension and a reflection on its relation to existent reality. A. M. Krapiec found the theories of Garrigou-Lagrange, Maritain, and Gilson lacking 172 and undertook a brief study of the structure of judgment. As regards its matter, he said, it does not differ from the concept. What distinguishes it is 168 "Philosophies de l'€ssence et philosophies de !'existence," (a paper read at Barcelona, 1948), now in Philosophic et spiritualite (Paris, 1963), pp. 53-70; cf. pp. 62, 66. 169 Ibid., pp. 57, 68. 170 " Gilson's Being and some Philosophers," Mod. School. 28 (1951), 111-125. 171 " Sur la connaissance de la verite," Rev. Sc. Ph. Th. 32 (1948), 337-350; cf. also Bulletin Thomiste Sa (1951), pp. 39-59. 1 ? 2 "Analysis formationis conceptus entis €Xistentialiter considerati," in Divus Thomas (Piac.) 59 (1956), pp. 320-350 the critique is set out pp. 321-331. ON JUDGING 817 the act of affirmation. In the attributive judgment what is affirmed is the necessary connection between the terms, while the representations contained in the judgment must constitute a whole. Such a judgment cannot provide the basis for the proper notion of being as being. 173 For this we must acknowledge the presence of an existential judgment and regard it as our primary judgment and as anterior even to conceptual knowledge. 174 In the formation of this judgment the cogitative power plays an all-important role; this kind of judgment has no predicate, it simply affirms existence. This apprehension and affirmation of the existence of material beings is the real foundation of the process by which we come to know being as such; by it our existential knowledge is united to our first and imperfect concept of being. 115 Fr. Regis, in his review of Gilson, had made the point that, for St. Thomas, every judgment consists of a noun and a verb, and that in such a judgment as " Socrates exists " the verb is the predicate. The same point would later be made by R. Mclnemy. 176 Meanwhile H. McCabe, in criticizing K. Wall for explaining the judgment as the expression of a partial identity between subject and predicate, 177 brought the whole discussion nearer to the linguistic level.178 For St. Thomas, he pointed out, the judgment consists essentially of a name and a verb (e. g., I Perih. lect. 6). It does not involve three terms, the subject and predicate joined by a third term, the copula. There are only two logical parts: the subject (a name) and the verb ("is P. "); the subject is the material part of the proposition, the verb its formal and principal part. We have predication in the proper sense in an attribution-statement in Ibid., pp. 344-346. Ibid., pp. 338-9; 346. 175 Ibid., pp. 173 170 176 "Notes on Being and Predication," Laval Theol. Phil. 15 (1959), "Some Notes on Being and Predication," The Thomist (1959), 315-335. 177 K. Wall: "The Structure of the Concept," The Thomist 18 (1955), 178 " The Structure of Judgment," The Thomist 19 (1956), 818 AMBROS:Ei MCNlCHOLL which the subject is used to signify a suppositum, whereas the predicate signifies a form. The subject is taken materialiter (it stands for the thing referred to), while the predicate is taken formaliter; it is not a name, for it does not stand for any thing; it signifies a form. Hence in proper predication we do not assert the identity of subject and predicate; this happens only in the identity statement. We may, however, make the same assertion in the form of an identity statement, namely, the subject is identically that thing which has the form signified by the predicate (Summa Theol. I, q. 85, a. 5, ad 3). Hence the identity involved in judgment is not that of two concepts but of one and the same thing. As a result of all these discussions it was clear that, if thomists had, as Gilson and Fabro maintained, lost sight of the supreme importance-for metaphysics-of the genuine notion of existence, they had more surely neglected to work out a satisfactory theory on the nature of judgment. Some, notably Tyrrell and Hoenen, had r.ecognized this, but they were unable to rid themselves completely of a too logical approach to the subject. A more realistic attitude was called for; and this historical survey can be closed by referring to two authors who adopted such an attitude. F. D. Wilhelmsen may have been, like many other fortunate professors, helped and inspired by the work of one or more of his students. At any rate he refers several times to an unpublished dissertation presented at St. Louis University in 1948 by G. V. Kinnard S. J. on the subject: The Intellect Composing and Dividing according to St. Thomas Aquinas. He cannot praise this work too highly; it is said to be brilliant, the most comprehensive study of St. Thomas's theory of judgment.179 I presume, although I have not been able to verify it, that Wilhelmsen's notion of judgment is essentially the same as that of Kinnard, or at least of Kinnard's way of interpreting St. Thomas. He had dealt briefly with the nature of judgment 179 "The Philosopher 48, n.12. and the Myth," Mod. School. 82 (1954) pp. 89-55; p. ON JUDGING 819 in two articles 180 before he published a book on epistemology which expressly made " the theory of judgment its center and perfection." 181 The article preceding the book prepared the way for it when it stated: It is only judgment that attains being in its existence; and since Thomist metaphysics is the philosophy of being as the exercise of the act of existing, it is by now clear to all Thomists that the metaphysical act is the disengagement of what is given in all judgments-being. What is not so evident as yet is the truth that this position entails the philosopher's pentration into the whole bodysoul, intellect-sensation relationship that constitutes judgement. 182 In cc. 10-18 of his book Wilhelmsen sets out his theory of judgment. He rejects the view that the judgment is composed of two .concepts joined by the copula. This may be the logician's way of treating the proposition, but, for St. Thomas at least, the mind cannot be informed by two different concepts at the same time. 183 Only one concept is needed for judgment; it is that represented by the predicate. The primitive subject of judgment is concr.ete and individual reality; and most fundamental judgments are those which deal with existing material things. From these judgments arise all human knowledge, and all other judgments get their strength ultimately from those that meet existing singular things as they impinge themselves upon the senses. From this it follows, not only theoretically but as a matter of direct experience, that the subject is never understood as such in any judgment. 184 The function of the subject is to stand for the thing which is known in the first place. The subject of judgment is, as it were, the finger of the intellect pointing at a thing; and the predicate is the voice of the intelligence 180 "The Aesthetic Act and the Act of Being," ibid. SO (1952), pp. 279-291, and the article just quoted. 181 Man's Knowledge of Reality (Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1965), p.v. 182 " The Philosopher and the Myth," pp. 39-40. 188 Man's Knowledge of Reality, pp. 66, 106, 109 etc. 18 ' Ibid., p. 105. SQO AMBROSE MCNICHOLL declaring that the thing exists in this or that way. Therefore, there is but one meaning of which man is rationally conscious in any single judgment: the predicate. 185 The intelligibility of the subject is the predicate. The predicate makes known the subject or is the light under which the subject is understood. In fact, the subject has no other meaning in any one judgment than that given it by predicate.186 The subject of a judgment may originally have been a concept. When it is used as subject in a judgment it no longer signifies a concept. The term which formerly expressed a concept now refers, by means of the phantasm from which it was derived, to the thing or object of the judgment. Wilhelmsen proposes to call this the symbolized meaning of the subject, to distinguish it from the formal or rational meaning of the predicate.187 This calls for attention to the all-important function of the vis cogitativa (or ratio particularis) in the thomistic explanation of judgment, a point which several other authors had already made. 188 In judgment the phantasm can exercise this role in three ways: 1) if the judgment concerns a material thing present to the external senses it does not symbolize or represent that thing, for it presents it to the mind; Q) if the judgment deals with something known in the past and no longer present the phantasm symbolizes this subject; 3) if the subject is not a sensible reality the phantasm again stands as a symbol for this reality and for all that was previously understood about it. 189 Judgment essentially implies a reflection upon this phantasm; and " in this reflection to the phantasm the intellect 185 Ibid., p. 108. The author here refers to Newman's A Grammar af Assent (London, 1887), p. 14. 186 Ibid. pp. 105-106. 187 Ibid., pp. 110-111. 188 Cf. for instance: N. Mailloux: "The Problem of Perception," The Thomist P. Hoenen, op. cit., c. 8; G. Klubertanz: The Discursive Pawer 4 (St. Louis, esp. cc. 5-9; The Philosophy af Human Nature (New York, 1953), pp.l43, 187, 19ft; cf. also Krapiec: art. cit. (n. 172), 331-339; Regis; ap. cit., pp. 271-275; A. da Castronovo, "La Cogitativa in S. Tommaso," Dact. Camm. l!l (1959)' pp. 99-244. 189 Ibid., p. Ill. ON JUDGING applies a form (signified by the predicate) to a thing (signified by the subject) ." 190 The " application of a form to a thing" (in the words of St. Thomas) must be identified with the act of predication, with composing of predicate with subject. The subject is the very thing itself, held before the intellect in the phantasm-sensation relationship. The predicate is the .formal content, the " meaning " or intelligibility initially abstracted in the phantasm .... Judgment, as has been emphasized through all these pages, is the act in which man understands something to exist. The theory of judgment must terminate in the existentiality of judgment, in its very being. 191 [In fine:] What is known is a thing designated by a subject; what is intended of the subject is the formal meaning designated by the predicate. All judgments reach existence in some order." 192 Since the authority of St. Thomas had been invoked in favor of widely different views on the nature of judgment, J. Nijenhuis has set out to reconstruct a theory based on careful study of the places where St. Thomas speaks of judgment. 198 He finds that the commonly accepted " two concept " theory can find no support in Aquinas, and he rejects it as untenable and as due mainly to a too logical treatment, to the neglect of the psychology of judging/ 94 Aquinas does not confuse judg_ ment and proposition. For him judgment stands for the act of passing a judgment, for affirmation or negation. It implies the use of a noun and a verb; nothing more is needed for the judgment to be complete; and a study of this can reveal what is essential in any judgment. The fundamental and primary type of judgment for man, and that on which St. Thomas usually bases his analysis, is the one which has a singular-material subject and a universal predicate of an intellectual-essential nature. 195 Examination of Ibid., p. 148. Ibid., pp. 129-131. 192 Ibid., p. 117. 193 The Structure of the Judgement according to Aquinas (Romae, 1971). This 190 191 is a summary based on a revised version of a dissertation Faculty of Philosophy at the Angelicum (Rome) in 1960. 194 Ibid., pp. 37-39; 62-72. 19 " Ibid., p. 38. submitted to the AMBROSE MCNICHOLL this· kind of judgment shows that its formation requires two apprehensions, one is the direct apprehension of the predicate, the other is the indirect apprehension (by reflection on the phantasm) of the subject (Summa Theol., I, q. 86, a. 1; De Verit. q. 10, a. 5) . Hence in the most precise and formal description of the nature of the proposition: The Predicate signifies an aspect, property or quality of the thing, representing one of the many " forms " of which the thing, metaphysically speaking, is made up. Its direct apprehension by the intellect may be taken as one of the many indications why it is called principal part of the proposition. The Subject, which is apprehended only indirectly, that is to say, by the intellect, represents, via the phantasm directly "depicting" the material thing, this thing itself in its entirety and as it is found in reality.196 As regards the structure of the judgment various texts (such as Summa Theol., I, q. 13, a. 12 and a. 13; I Perih. lect. 8, 98) are adduced to show that the component parts of the judgment can form a unity insofar as the predicate is taken formally while the subject is taken materially. Here" formally" means: taken to signify a nature; while " materially " means taken to stand for the suppositum to which the judgment refers (Summa Theol., III, q. 16, a. 7 ad 4; a. 9). In consequence, we should say that the role of the subject is to: " stand for, designate, indicate, denote, direct attention to, point at ... the function of the predicate is almost exclusively described as: signify." 197 The author ends his work by quoting Summa Theol., I, q. 16, a. fl: "In every proposition (the intellect) either applies a form signified by the predicate to the thing signified (!) by the subject, or removes one from it." 198 * * * * * At the end of this historical survey it seems undeniable that for the last thirty years or so, whether through internal evolution or through the influence of such currents of thought as Ibid., p. 87. Ibid., p. 72. us Ibid. 118 187 ON JUDGING existentialism or phenomenology, Scholastic philosophers have discovered and clarified aspects o£ the thought o£ S. Thomas which appear to have been ignored or at least not considered as important. One point that has been made clear is the thorough unity o£ the human process o£ knowing. There had been a tendency, due to a too narrowly logical approach to the question, to separate the concept and the judgment as well as the acts by which they are formed. Undoubtedly concept and judgment are distinct; and by reflection one can concentrate on the concept alone or the judgment alone. But an act o£ knowledge, £rom a psychological point o£ view, is a unity in which conception and judging are combined and inseparable. It is more a question o£ distinguishing formalities in the complete act of knowing than of designating distinct acts regarded as complete in themselves. When, for instance, one says that the essence is attained in a concept while actual existence is reached by the judgment, this should be taken to mean that by the one complete act an existing thing is known, the essence (or something pertaining to it) by reason of the concept, the existence by reason of the judgment. It has also been made quite clear that for St. Thomas knowledge is complete only when the mind passes, in judgment, to affirmation or negation; and that man's knowing process commences in contact, through the external senses, with existent and singular material things. St. Thomas also insists over and over again (e. g., De Verit., q. 6 ad 3; I de Anima, lect. 10, 152; De Anima 19; Quodl. IX, q. 7; Summa Theol., I, q. 75, a. 2 ad 2) that it is the whole man that knows. Properly speaking, neither intellect nor sense can be said to know, £or they are not agents but faculties. They are the means by which man, as one subsisting being, knows. It is one and the same man who understands and senses (Summa Theol., I, q. 76, a. 1) . In man's normal knowing there is no such thing as pure sensation or pure intellection. There is but one process of knowing, and it is integrated by a series of acts that occur together. As B. Lonergan puts it, knowledge is a structured whole composed o£ parts which are active and which constitute them- 824 AMBROSE MCNICHOLL selves as a whole. All its parts are knowledge, and all integrate one whole.199 Similarly it is one and the same object that is known through sense and intellect. The same object is, in different ways, understood, imagined, perceived, and touched and seen; which means that, as St. Thomas puts it, man never knows except by" turning to the phantasm" (ibid. 1 q. 84, aa. 6-8). This thomistic insistence on the organic and dynamic unity of knowledge entails rejection of the Lockian and Kantian view of knowledge as composed of two distinct stages, as though the senses first formed their object and then offered this as material for a subsequent act of the intellect which would order this material in its own way. In this view intellect and sense would not bear on the same object. Each would have its own object. The intellect would then be cut off from intercourse with existent beings, and its first act would be that of judgment seen as a correlating of immanent objects. For St. Thomas the knowing process starts from sensible experience and always includes it as an essential component, even where there is question of knowledge of immaterial beings. Our primitive judgments bear on material existing things as present to and acting on our senses; and all other forms of knowing refer back, in various ways, to these. In this sense he affirms the primacy of the existential judgment. This means that, in studying the judgment, one should attend first of all to such singular and existential judgments. One can understand why the epistemologist, and so many modern philosophers from Descartes to Husserl, who are concerned with establishing the validity of science, should turn by preference to judgments of the abstract and universal type found in the sciences. But science is an artificial and highly evolved kind of knowledge; and since its object is, formally, ideal, universal and immanent, to restrict one's consideration to such judgments is to enter the way of immanence which leads to some form of idealism. It is also to deform the tJ:teory of judgment. 199 " Cognitional. Structure," in OoUecticm, c. 14, especially pp. 222-!!!W. ON JUDGING 825 To reconstruct the thomistic theory of judgment one should therefore carry out what may be called a phenomenology of judgment, that is, a study of the principal types in order to determine which are primary and fundamental. An investigation into these, in an endeavor to discover their basic structure, should reveal the nature of the act of judging; and this, in turn, should shed some light on the nature of the judgment which simply affirms existence. Judgment and existence are intimately related to each other; for judgment is the perfection of knowing, just as existence is the perfection of being. AMBROSE McNICHOLL, University of St. Thomas Aquinas Rome, Italy 0. P. AQUINAS AND THE SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH E XCEPT FOR HIS Commentary on Aristotle's" Politics" and a brief opuscule on the Rule of Princes, both completed by other authors, Thomas Aquinas wrote no political treatise in the classical style. The great moral and social themes on Law, Right, Justice, and the Social Virtues are all integrated into his theological synthesis of "man's coming from God and returning to him." The work and the ideas it contains have secured for Aquinas a place among the classics not only in philosophy and theology but also in law and politics. Most Christian and especially Catholic social ethics have been a reproduction-not always the most authentic-of the principles found in the Summa. In addition, a considerable literature of selected political texts, commentaries, and historical and political studies has surfaced, especially since the revival of scholastic philosophy under Leo XIII. It is nevertheless true that Aquinas never made an impact on actual political forms or events comparable, for example, to the influence of Locke, Rousseau or Marx. His contribution, we would like to argue, consists primarily in his grasping and formulating some basic, timeless insights into the nature and purpose of human fellowship within his general conception of man and his universe: insights that can be tested and expanded and in continuous dialogue with other philosophical and political currents as well as with the reality of human experience itself. The purpose of this article is to highlight some of these insights as they reflect in the social teaching of the Church and bear upon some of our contemporary social Issues. Although the seventh centenary of Aquinas's death calls for a tribute to the man, it is not our intention to present a case 826 AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 827 for the Thomism of the encyclicals or to suggest that a thirteenth-century theologian or a twentieth-century Church has all the answers to all the questions. Indeed, the first thing we learn from Aquinas is that there are no blueprints for either personal happiness or social progress. The Church has publicly disclaimed such an expertise in human affairs.1 What we propose is that in addressing ourselves to such questions a dialogue with the past may be as productive as a dialogue with the present. The Church does not speak in a vacuum; it speaks in the context of its own historical r.eality which stems from the Incarnation, since " beneath all changes there are many realities which do not change and which have their ultimate foundation in Christ, who is the same yesterday and today, yes and forever ". 2 The historical continuity of the gospel message is essential to the Church's identity and mission. While the same cannot be said of philosophical or .even of theological traditions within this continuum, their contributions do call for attention and testing, to say the least. Continuity does not exclude change and adaptation, although this has often been a slow and a painful process for the Church. Rather, such changes in the Church's position on social questions not only occur, they are also called for. Since the "static" conceptions of the Church's teachings are frequently attributed to its " fidelity to Thomas," it will be a part of this analysis to inquire not only what he might have contributed by way of unchangeable truth but also, if such be the case, by way of a spirit of openness to change and adaptation. From a historical perspective, Aquinas's socio-political thought is often associated with and, for some, is the spokesman for the medieval conception of Christianity as a hierarchical commonwealth whose parts are harmoniously interrelated and jointly ordained to a common goal which is ultimately God himself. By the time Aquinas was formulating his version of this conception, the political reality was already quite different, 1 The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes), no. 48. • Ibid., no. 10. 828 JANKO ZAGAR with both popes and emperors struggling for worldly supremacy. The result was not a harmonious Christendom but the plurality of sovereign, absolutist, and often antagonistic states that we still know today. There is no need for us to review all the other historical changes often described as the process of dechristianization. The decline of scholasticism, the rise of modern science and philosophy, the Reformation, and the political, industrial, and most recently, technological revolutions are some of the great turning points with which we are familiar. Gradually but profoundly they changed the styles and structures of human relations. It may be useful to sketch some of the results of these changes as they appear on the contemporary scene. The first to attract the attention of the Church was the rise of the working class in the last century. It is followed now by the entry of women into public life. Related to this is the weakening of the centuries-old agrarian and patriarchal civilization on the one hand, and the expansion of urban concentrations with all their big-city problems on the other. On the international level there is the emergence of underdeveloped nations (the third world) with their problems of economic inequalities, population explosion, and environmental crises, coupled, because of mass communication, with evidence o£ cultural and religious pluralism, atheism as a possible world view, and Christianity as a religion proper to Western man. In the sociomoral order the multiplication of social relations started what the encyclicals now call the " process o£ socialization," 3 a daily more complex interdependence of citizens. Contributing to this process we can cite the computer, the possibility o£ genetic and biological control of human life, the sexual revolution with its effects on marriage and morality in general, and the specific problems of the young, the old, the minorities, etc., in a society which is still ruled by the law of competition rather than by a spirit of cooperation. In the area of politics and government, the power of the state and the danger of nuclear war are 8 Mater et Magistra, no. 59; Gaudium et Spes, no. 25. AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 829 still very much with us. Governments, when they are not dictatorships, are based on positivistic, contractual, and utilitarian conceptions of man. In spite of the great principles of the American and Fr.ench revolutions, and contrary to Marx's expectation of the withering away of the state into a classless society, the bureaucratic, militaristic, and financial machinery of the state has increased throughout the world. Individual freedom can be challenged at any time on the grounds of " Party line " or " national interest." Yet there is a profound confusion about what such interests are. There is a crisis of the common good in contemporary society at almost all levels. Citizens do not know what the common good of their country is. The faithful are confused about the common good of their Church; the religious debate the goals of their Orders; workers question the common good in their unions; married couples search for the meaning of their marriages. Neither philosophy nor theology has been very helpful to the human mind in recent times. It is true that currents like existentialism and the Latin American theology of liberation are awakening Christians to their responsibility for concrete action. But the anti-metaphysical strain in modern philosophy and the anti-transcendental bent in theology deprive man of any appeal beyond the positivistic instances of the human will. However, questions are being raised more and more about who should decide and on what grounds, as the basic values of human life apear at stake in such issues as war, capital punishment, abortion, euthanasia, sterilization, and other forms of human experimentation. There is no single cause or solution for these phenomena, but two underlying thoughts come to mind in their regard; one is that man has always searched for a happy balance between his individual rights and his social interdependence, and he has never found it; the second is that the Church has always searched for an equally happy balance between its humanosocial and faith-transcendental function, and has never found it either. Although human relations cannot be reduced to simple categories, especially the individual-society relationship, 830 JANKO ZAGAR experience tells us that they can easily be polarized around two extremes: individualism and collectivism in politics, and secularism and supernaturalism in r.eligion. Nineteenth-century capitalism and the twentieth-century communism what such polarization can mean in real life. It is true that the general standard of living eventually rose under both systems, but the achievements are due to mitigating rather than to enforcing the principles on which they are respectively founded. Without such mitigation and with the materialistic and competitive conception of man which is common to both, the laissezfaire capitalism lends itself to the oppr.ession of the weak and collectivism to totalitarianism. We still have plentiful evidence of both. Tossed between these two forms of the same mistake-extremism-the response of the Church grew gradually as it began to address itself to the particular issues of the day, from working conditions and private property in the time of Leo XIII to the concern for trade unions, peace and international justice of the twentieth-c-entury popes. But the Church was divided within itself. The "conflict" between transcendental and wordly perspectives of the gospel, between the here and hereafter, is not new in the history of Christianity. There have always been within and without the Church those who conceive Christianity as primarily if not exclusively a humanitarian and social commitment and those who either refuse to be " of this world" or deny the Church's right to speak on worldly matters. The social turmoil of the nineteenth century brought the conflict to a head, as the Church was confronted, on the one hand, with capitalism and socialism as the leading ideologies, and on the other, with poverty as the common condition of the majority of people. Although the leading nineteenth-century Catholics were aware of a new situation created by the industrial revolution, and some like Cardinals Manning and Gibbons, played important roles in the change which was to come, the absence of a Christian-Catholic social " ideology" comparable to the Marxist vision and method was conspicuous. Jeremiah Newman describes the initial Catholic reaction as romantic, AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 831 aristocratic, moralistic, and paternalistic. 4 As late as 1878 Leo XIII's main concern was still" the defense of the religious order and civil order against subversive forces " and the preaching of almsgiving to the rich and patience to the poor as " the best method" of social reconciliation. 5 As often happens in similar situations, the early Catholic reactions were divided between the conservatives and the liberals: the former centered on individual and the latter on structural amelioration. Both failed in their respective efforts, although not without significant influence on future developments: the conservatives because charity was not a substitute for justice and liberals because they were too liberal for the Church and not liberal enough for the workers. A new theological foundation for the social order that would meet the new social climate and counteract both capitalism and socialism ideologically became imperative. The Church looked for this foundation in its own philosophical and theological tradition. It was thus that the study of St. Thomas and a new edition of his works (the Leonine) were initiated by Leo XIII's encyclical letter Aeterni Patris (On the Restoration of Christian Philosophy) in 1879. The source was rich and valid, but it was also suspect as a sign of looking backward instead of moving forward. Nevertheless, it soon became evident that under the dust of casuistry, legalism, and the apologetics of the recent centuries, here lay a treasure that could still be invested. The first significant breakthrough came twelve years later with the publication of Rerum N ovarum in 1891. The encyclical opened a new path to a theological foundation for the social order. It was the beginning and has remained the basis of a series of subsequent pontifical documents which, under the name of social encyclicals and together with Vatican II's Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World now constitute a substantial body of the Church's social doctrine, bearing on • Jeremiah Newman: Change and the Catholic Church (Helicon, 1965), pp. 141 ss. • Leo XIII: Quod Apostolici muneris, 1878. 832 JANKO ZAGAR practically all aspects of contemporary social and international problems and relations. All socio-political ideologies proceed from some basic assumptions which flow into practical application according to a proposed method. Thus capitalism proceeds from an egoistic conception of man and proposes free competition as the road to social harmony. Marxism rests on the assumption of dialectical materialism and expects, by way of proletarian revolution (or the dictatorship of proletariat), to establish a communist society. The Church's social doctrine also rests on some basic assumptions and envisions a specific method for social betterment. The assumptions concern the understanding of man, society, the common good, and social justice, which are the underlying realities of all human r:elations. The method is one of moderation and reconciliation of extremes, and, as far as the Church's more recent stance toward the world is concerned, its adaptation to " the signs of the times," without r:enouncing its supernatural mission. It is along these lines that we propose to review Aquinas's main contribution. Aquinas's socio-political thought and its practical implications are, as we said earlier, only one aspect of his theological synthesis. ·within this synthesis his " social theology " evolves around four fundamental realities: the personal unity, dignity, and mystery of the human being; the naturalness of society; the primacy of the common good; and justice as the foundation of human fellowship. Dignity of the human person Compared with modern evolutionary and process theories Aquinas's concept of man appears static and has been criticized as such. It assumes the existence and continuity of what we call human nature and our capacity for knowing it. How " static " Aquinas's conception is and how it compares in practical human and social consequences with process thought may be a debatable issue. The fact is, and no one denies it, that human development, adaptation, and man's growing knowledge of himself are taken for granted. Speaking of natural law Aquinas AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 833 writes that "nothing hinders the natural law from being changed since many things for the benefit of human life have been added over and above the natural law, both by the divine law and human laws." 6 For Aquinas, every human person is a unique being, and human actions are singular (actus sunt in particularibus). He writes: "Our intellect can make a universal statement which is true, as in the case of the necessary, in regard to which a defect cannot occur. But of other things it is impossible that anything be said which is true universally, as in the case of the contingent." 7 This is an obvious warning against too hasty a codification of the natural law. But it is not a door to scepticism. There is still a world with man in it at every given time. Individual personalities, tastes, and prefer:ences may vary, but the elementary needs for food, clothing, and shelter are constant, and they tell us something. There is still a specific human identity in a given time and place in relation to the rest of creation; an identity which is recognizable and discernible. On the basis of such a specifically human identity, Aquinas makes the point that man is not just the culmination of a natural evolution, but also-and primarilythe center of cr:eation, the middle between the Creator and the least of creation. In the order of beings, he combines the highest, a spiritual soul, with the lowest, a material substance, in one person existing " on the horizon of eternity and time." 8 The individual is not just a member of a species: he possesses a rational nature which distinguishes him as person, and "person signifies what is the most perfect in nature." 9 It also signifi.es what is distinctive and complete in that nature "this flesh, these bones, and this soul, which are the individuating principles of man, and which, though not belonging to person in general, nevertheless do belong to the meaning of a particular human person." 10 Against not only materialistic but also • Summa Theologiae I-II, q. 94, a. 5. • Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, Book V, lect. XVI. • II Contra Gentiles, c. 81. • Summa Theol., I, q. !t9, a. 8. 10 Ibid., a. 4. 884 JANKO ZAGAR dualistic and departmentalistic conceptions o£ man is Aquinas's position that in man everything is man and man is a unique person. The substantial union o£ soul and body, spirit and flesh, consecrates man's physical, biological, and social existence, and differentiates him from every other created being even in £unctions which are otherwise common. It is with the soul that " we eat and £eel and understand." 11 On these grounds, £or instance, human sexuality is inseparable £rom human spirituality. A complete declaration o£ human rights may be deduced £rom this conception o£ man: the right to life and bodily integrity: the right to knowledge and information; the right to freedom, the right to worship; the right to work and ownership, etc., since " man in a certain sense contains all things and according a.s he is master o£ what is within himself, in the .same way he can have mastership over other things." 12 Redemption adds another dimension to this natural dignity o£ man since "the perfection o£ the rational creature consists not only in what belongs to it in respect o£ its nature but also in that which it acquires through a supernatural perfection o£ divine goodness ... Hence man's ultimate happiness consists in a supernatural vision o£ God." 13 It is on the basis o£ these two inalienable realities, nature and redemption, o£ the human person that Pope John XXIII lays down the grounds £or the order which should exist £or the respect o£ the person in human society. Any human society, if it is to be well ordered and productive, must lay down as a foundation this principle, namely, that every human being is a person, that is, his nature is endDwed with intelligence and free will. Indeed, precisely because he is a person he has rights and obligations flowing directly and simultaneously from his very nature. And as these rights and obligations are universal and inviolable, so they cannot in any way be surrendered. If we look upon the dignity of the human person in the light of divinely revealed truth we cannot help but esteem it far more highly; for men are redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ, they Ibid., q. 71, a. 1; II Cont. Gent., c. 56. Summa Theol., q. 96, a. 2. 18 Ibid., 11-II, q. 2, a. 8. 11 12 AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 885 are by grace the children and friends of God and heirs of eternal glory.14 Naturally somal Man's uniqueness finds its extension in society. Society is the result of neither sinfulness nor contract. It is the natural framework of individual existence and growth which springs from man's twofold needs of r.eceiving and giving. "To the other animals nature provides food, hair to cover, defense such as teeth, horns, claws or at least speed to flee. Man has nothing of these prepared by nature, but instead he possesses reason by which he can procure all these with his own hands and for such preparation a single man is insufficient. One man alone cannot by himself go through life." 15 Original sin is not the cause of social differences and authority. In a question asking whether in the state of innocence man would have been master over man, in other words, whether social differences would have existed, Aquinas first rejecting the possibility of slavery writes: A man is the master of a free subject, by directing him either toward his proper welfare, or to the common good. Such a kind of mastership would have existed in the state of innocence between man and man for two reasons. First, because man is naturally a social being, and so in the state of innocence he would have led a social life. Now a social life cannot exist among a number of people unless under the presidency of one to look after the common good; for many as such seek many things, whereas one attends only to one ... Secondly, if one man surpassed another in knowledge and virtue, this would not have been fitting unless these gifts conduced to the benefits of others, according to I Peter 4:10 "as every man hath received grace, ministering the same one to another ... " 16 The meaning of" naturaliter sociale" has caused occasional confusion due to the ambiguity of the terms nature and natural in Aquinas's writings. Things could be natural in a cosmic, generic, specific or even individual sense, as when we say that the knowledge of medicine is natural to a doctor and that of Pacem in Terris, nos. 9-10. De Regimine Principum, I: 1. 16 Summa Theol., I, q. 96, a. 4. 14 15 836 JANKO ZAGAR theology to a priest. In practice it makes a difference whether we conceive human sociability as a cosmic or biological whole, a heap of stones or something specifically human. It is in this latter sense that we must understand St. Thomas's" naturaliter sociale," since, according to the principle of substantial union of soul and body in one person, in man everything is specifically human. For both material and biological reasons man needs society, but such needs are specifically human, subject to man's organizational capacity and in various degrees integrated into his moral order. Consequently, society is not simply or even primarily a sociological phenomenon but a moral reality and a postulate of reason: "civitas (est) quodam totum cujus humana ratio non est solum cognoscitiva, sed etiam operativa." 17 Reason demands a society wherein the laws governing society are also "ordinances of reason," or they are not laws at all. Since man's sociability is based on his rationality every human society implies reciprocity: the individual is both active and passive, giving and receiving, although under different aspects. It also implies a purpose because in all human activity man always acts for an end. The end is the common good of that society. St. Thomas's concept of society as a reciprocal sharing of mutual and spiritual values in view of a common goal is reiterated in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church. Man's social nature makes it evident that the progress of the human person and the advance of society itself hinge on each other. For the beginning, the subject and the goal of all social institutions is and must be the human person, which for its part and by its very nature stands completely in need of social life. This social life is not something added on to man. Hence through his dealings with others, through reciprocal duties, and through fraternal dialogue he develops all his gifts and is able to rise to his destiny .18 Aquinas offers no original thought on the institutional type of government but rather a few accepted conditions for what 17 18 Commentary on the Politics, Prooemium. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church, no. 25. AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 837 he calls " civitas " or perfect society (equivalent to our concept of state) suggesting a pragmatic approach. A perfect society is a multitude of free people, sufficient for adequate human development (bene vivere humanum) and governed by a legitimate authority/ 9 A multitude of free people suggests a pluralistic conception of society, not only accepting but insisting on healthy differences within a fundamental unity. 20 The conception excludes every biological, racial, class and in principle even religious or any other totalitarian uniformity. What is sufficient for life is an open-ended perspective since needs and possibilities vary in time and place. Once again " bene vivere humanum" applies to the entire person and includes material, spiritual and emotional fulfillment. Man cannot live without food, and " as he cannot live without truth, likewis.e he cannot live without joy." 21 The purpose of a social institution, therefore, is to assure such material, moral, and cultural conditions in which people can freely and comfortably advance in their human growth and fulfillment. Although God is not a direct objective of such human fellowship in a political society, a perfect society must at least he open to and in line with that objective because of man's natural openness to the Absolute. By the very fact that all moral order is goal-oriented Aquinas excludes an entirely secular order with its own closed standards and norms. Because by virtuous living man is ordained to an ulterior end which consists in divine fruition ... it is necessary that the end of human multitude be the same as of individual man. The ultimate end of an assembled multitude is not to live virtuously but by virtuously living achieve the divine fruition. 22 Commentary on Psalm 45, verse 4. II Polit., lect. 1. ". . . civitas non solum debet esse ex pluribus hominibus, sed etiam oportet esse ex differentibus specie, idest ex hominibus diversarum conditionum ... aliud est civitas et aliud est multitudo congregata ad simul pugnandum." 21 Summa Theol., II-II, q. 114, a. ad 1; also I-II, q. 4, a. 6: "Since it is natural for the soul to be united to the body, how is it credible that the perfection of the one should exclude the perfection of the other." 22 De Regimine Principum, I: 14. 19 20 838 JANKO ZAGAR Natural order is distinct and, as we shall point out shortly, in a sense autonomous, but not separate from, the order of faith. In the total human destiny even secular social structures have a redemptive value insofar as they help man toward salva.. tion. As it is natural for man to live in society, so also is it natural to live under an authority. A perfect .society cannot exist or function without someone presiding and caring for the common good. In practice this can only be done through a legitimate government " qui curam communitatis habet." What kind of government, how strong, how weak, how chosen, how controlled, how changed is a matter of political experience, prudence, and wisdom. But assuming the principle of individual freedom as well as the egoistic undercurrents of human nature, a perfect society can be united only by the free union of free wills, on the basis of knowledge and in view of a common objective. It is a unity based not on the wit of either one or many but on the law which is an "ordinance of reason" and in its turn a reflection of the divine wisdom (eternal law) as implemented in human hearts (natural law.) Along these lines and from our contemporary perspective Pacem in Terris takes it for granted that in the last instance the public authority in a society is human persons: individuals chosen or otherwise established to be authority or government. Since governments are the result of man's social nature, it is only by reference to this nature and ultimately to its Creator that they are socially just or unjust, legitimate or illegitimate. Since the right to command is required by the moral order and has its source in God, it follows that, if civil authorities pass laws or command anything opposed to the moral order and consequently contrary to the will of God, neither the laws made nor the authorization granted can be binding on the consciences of the citizens, since God has more right to be obeyed than men. As St. Thomas Aquinas teaches: "Human law has the true nature of law only insofar as it corresponds to right reason, and in this respect it is evident that it is derived from the eternal law. Insofar as it falls short of right reason, a law is said to be a wicked law; and so lacking the true nature of law, it is rather a kind of violence." (Pacem in Terris, 51) AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 839 Human dimensions of the common good Of all social factors and values the common good holds the central place. Its existence is implicit in human cooperation, but what it is and how it relates to individual goods is more difficult to define. In Aquinas's thinking to understand the common good one must begin by understanding the essence of good as such, which is philosophically puzzling. Aquinas begins with a basic experience. This essence, he writes," consists in this, that it is in some way desirable," in other words, it is related as a fulfillment to a desiring subject, as truth is related to the intellect. Good is thus conceived as perfective of one who desires it which implies that it must be perfect, i. e., a real value in itself, existing and true since ".everything is perfect so far as it exists." 28 There is in the works of Aquinas an ontology of good, its transcendental status, its identity with being and truth, and its analogical application, which underlies what in the social context we call the common good. Such a common good is intrinsic to all human associations beginning with friendship and the family and extending to political, religious, international and all other groupings. In all such groupings, Aquinas maintains, the common good is also the goal to which particular goods are ordained as parts to their whole. " The common good is the end of each individual member of a community just as the good of the whole is the end of each 24 For this reason " it is a virtuous action for a man to endanger even his own life, either for the spiritual or for the temporal common good of his country." 25 Since human fellowship, according to Aquinas, is not just an institution which one can join or leave but a community to which one belongs in virtue of his humanity, the common good is not just an accumulation in size and degree of individual goods but a reality specifically different and a value in its own right. " The common good of the realm and the particular good of the in•• Summa Theol., I, q. 5, a. 1. •• Ibid., II-II, q. 58, a. 9 ad 3. •• Ibid., q. 31, a. 3. 840 JANKO ZAGAR dividual differ not only in respect of the many and few, but under a formal aspect. For the aspect of the common good differs from the aspect of the individual good, even as the aspect of the whole differs from that of the part." 26 The difference and its implication echo in the distinction between what some contemporary writers call the aggregative and the distributive conceptions of the common good.27 The distributive conception is limited to the distribution of existing goods or values under such principles as justice for all, .equal opportunity, equal rights, and viewing the society as a balance of group interests and powers rather than as a community with a common goal. The aggregative conception is goal-oriented. Merle Longwood observes, in the article just quoted, that only the aggregative or goal-oriented common good is adequate to deal with such contemporary problems as clear air, clean water, education, crime prevention, etc., because these are not matters of equal distribution but of common sharing in the responsibility for sur- i ''n vival. The primacy of the common good is not without qualification. " The good of the universe is greater than the particular good of one, if we consider both of the same genus. But the good of grace in one is greater than the good of nature in the whole universe." 28 Aquinas speaks as a theologian, but the principle applies on all levels, although a discernment is not always easy. There are statements on individual/ society and private f common good relationships which, if taken in isolation, appear conflicting. Thus we are told that "every individual person is compared to the community as part to a whole," 29 or that being " a part of a political community he cannot be good unless he be well adjusted to the common good"; yet " to be a part is contrary to the idea of person" 80 and " a •• Ibid., q. 58, a. 7 ad 2. 21 Merle Longwood: " Common Good and Environmental Issues," in Theological Studies, Vol. 84, No. 8 (September, 1978). •• Summa Theol., 1-11, q. 118, a. 9 ad 2. •• Ibid., 11-11, q. 61, a. 1; q. 64, a. 2. 80 Ill Sent., a. 5, q. 82. AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 841 human being is not subordinate to the political community entil"ely in his whole self and with all he possesses, and therefore it is not required that each of his acts should be well or ill deserving within the political order." 31 To understand Aquinas's dialectic of the common good one must recall man's personal dignity on the one hand and his natural embedment in society on the other. Since every society is always a society of human persons, the good of the society is the good of each person who in turn continuously transcends the existing good (and society) by his openness to something greater and better. A continuous cross reference to man as a person and person as naturally social is a safeguard against the extremes of both individualism, which does not go beyond a juxtaposition (distribution) of private goods, and collectivism, which deprives man not only of what he has but ultimately of what he is. Common good is not just an ideal, much less an abstraction. In a social context it always has an existing content, a standard that can be experienced and evaluated, although not determined. "Bene vivere humanum," good human life is an openended objective. It " requires good things enough to insure the most developed activity this life allows." 32 Pope John defines the common good as " the sum total of those ·conditions of social living whereby men are enabled more fully and more readily to achieve their own perfection." 33 Because common good is an open-ended reality it becomes the object not only of sociological and political debates, votes, and decisions, but also of philosophical and theological inquiry, especially when questions are raised about the universal common good of all mankind. It is our understanding of the common good that determines the extent of our relationships and, consciously or unconsciously, who is "my neighbor." It is the understanding of the common good that determines on what level we meet another person: be it the level of friends and family, profession, race, nation, religion, or whatever, and it is the same underSumma Theol., I-II, q. 21, a. 4 ad 3. •• Ibid., q. 3, a. 3 ad 2. •• Mater et Magistra, no. 65. 81 JANKO ZAGAR standing also that determines the extent of our justice. Is what happens to the minorities, the unemployed, the old, the third world, etc., any of my concern and responsibility? The complexity and interdependence that we experience in the modern world, (the process of socialization in the words of Pope John) does not allow for indifference. However, an efficient and joint cooperation will be possible only in view of a common good which at the same time transcends each and fulfills all. It is in this context that a philosophical and theological investigation into the nature of an authentic and supreme common good, as a postulate of reason, arises and through an analysis of man's needs, frustrations, and openness this investigation brings God into the picture as the ultimate fulfillment of man as man and thus the ultimate common good of mankind. Now the supreme good, namely, God, is the common good, since the good of all things depends on him, and the good whereby each thing is good is the particular good of that thing and of those that depend thereon. Therefore all things are directed to one good, God, to wit, as their end.34 To the extent that man accepts God as his ultimate value every other good must be in line with this value as every positive law must be in line with the natural and eternal law, or at least not contrary to it. Introducing God into the realm of the common good does not imply a Church-dominated society. In this regard Aquinas provides the theological foundation for the changes that have taken place in the Church's attitude toward secular society and values. The principle that " the divine law which is the law of grace does not do away with human law which is the law of human reason" 35 (or that grace does not suppress nor replace but only perfects nature) opens the door to an understanding and autonomy of secular values that has not always been characteristic of the Christian mentality. The position that "outside the Church there is no salvation " lent itself too easily to a chauvinistic and ec84 85 lll Cont. Gent., c. 17. Summa Theol., II-II, q. 10, a. 10. AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 843 clesiocentric perspective of defending the Church and denouncing the world. This situation has changed in many regards even since the time of Rerum N ovarum. Thus there is a de-emphasis very much in line with Aquinas's position on the inviolability of private property as a natural right which Rerum N ovarum overstressed as a defense against socialism. Among other changes the Church now accepts strikes and allows Catholics to be members of non-Catholic unions. It has disentangled itself from particular regimes. It accepts socialism as a legitimate political system and respects pluralism in practical social and political matters. It professes religious liberty instead of mere tolerance, and affirms " the autonomy of earthly affairs." 36 The distinction between earthly and spiritual values must not be confused with their separation. When Aquinas speaks of man's natural possibilities and progress as distinct from the realm of the supernatural, he always adds " but not without God's help" (non tamen sine adjutorio divino), a thought which is reflected when the same Pastoral Constitution on the Church affirms that " earthly matters and the concerns of faith derive from the same God." (ibid) The idea implies not only an assumed harmony between secular and spiritual values grounded in the substantial unity of the person but also a certain primacy and supremacy of God in human fellowship. Social no less than individual life should not be split. The highest guarantee of unity and harmony on both levels is God. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church echoes this thought in the following statement: "Often refusing to acknowledge God as his beginning, man has also disrupted his proper relationship to his own ultimate goal. At the same time he became out of harmony with himself, with others and with all •• Pastoral Constitution on the Church, no. 86. " If by the autonomy of earthly affairs we mean that created things and societies themselves enjoy their own laws and values which must be gradually deciphered, put to use, and regulated by men, then it is entirely right to demand that autonomy. Such is not merely required by modern men, but harmonizes also with the will of the Creator. For by the very circumstance of their having been created, all things are endowed with their own stability, truth, goodness, proper laws and order." 844 JANKO ZAGAR created things." 87 The process of .socialization, as has already been pointed out, and the complex network of social and international interdependence, call for continuous self-transcendence and a clear vision of a sound, unifying objective for all. Although there are still unfulfilled secular values, such as universal peace, nutrition, freedom, etc., God is their highest guarantee for Aquinas as well as for the Church. " The Order which prevails in society," writes Pope John, "is by nature moral." Grounded as it is in truth, it must function according to the norms of justice, it should be inspired and perfected by mutual love; and finally it should be brought to an ever more refined and human balance in freedom. Now an order of this kind, whose principles are universal, absolute and unchangeable, has its ultimate source in the one true God, who is personal and transcends human nature. Inasmuch as God is the first Truth and the Highest Good, He alone is that deepest source from which society can draw its vitality, if that society is to be well ordered, beneficial and in keeping with the human dignity. 88 Social Justice A major concern in modern times has been the quest for social justice. In moral theology this is a new term. Traditional moral theology listed only three kinds of justice based on a threefold social relationship of person to person, person to society, and society to its individual members. Respectively they are called commutative, legal, and distributive justice. The term social justice was first used by Pius XI in Quadragesimo Anno. He writes: To each, therefore, must be given his own share of goods and the distribution of created goods, which as every discerning person knows, is laboring today under the greatest evils due to the huge disparity between the few exceedingly rich and the unnumbered propertyless, must be effectively called back and brought into conformity with the norms of the common good, that is, social justice. 89 Ibid., no. 13. Pacem in Terris, nos. 37-38. 39 Quadragesimo Anno, no. 58. 81 88 AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 845 The concept of social justice has become fundamental to Catholic social thought and action. Nevertheless, its exact meaning as well as its relationship to the traditional kinds of justice have been a frequent subject of debate with equally frequent references to Aquinas. 40 In this regard Jeremiah Newman offers an interesting observation in his book Foundation of Justice. He maintains that the contemporary notion of social justice is equivalent to Aquinas's legal justice, since Aquinas's concept of "legal" must not be confused with "legalistic." The confusion, he writes, occurred when the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century scholastics sought to accomodate to the new era of absolutism. As the medieval concept of a universal commonwealth faded in theory and in practice, the common good as the object of legal justice became identified with the common good of the state, and legal justice with "state justice" or the laws of the land. Such a constitutional and juridical concept of justice, which .still persists in our understanding and practice, confines man to his nation or state, identifies justice with "law and order," and seeks its fulfillment in the strict adherence to existing laws as opposed to arbitrary infractions of them. The result is a freezing of justice to contractual relationships while many forms of injustice and discrimination pass unnoticed, as if they were nobody's business. As a moral disposition, social justice opens a new dimension of social obligations. It calls for rendering to the other what is his due, not as a matter of charity but as a due in equality, not by the order of courts but in virtue of the dignity and natural rights of the person and in view of the highest common good. It thus releases justice from its contractual and legalistic limitations. In practice this means that social justice is not fulfilled if the workers are underpaid by an industry that can afford more no matter how " legal " the original contract. Similarly, it would be an act against social justice for the workers to strike for higher wages if this adversely affects the economic •• Jeremiah Newman: Foundation Thomism (Cork Univ. Press, 1954). of Justice: a historico-critical study in 846 JANKO ZAGAR stability of an entire nation. Pius XI was still speaking in terms of a" national" social justice, demanding from the individual that which is necessary for the common good and insuring for him what he needs to fulfill his function. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church sees the same need on a global level. Every day human interdependence grows more tightly drawn and spreads by degrees over the whole world. As a result, the common good, that is the sum of those conditions of social life which allow social groups and their individual members relatively thorough and ready access to their own fulfillment, today takes on an increasingly universal ·Complexion and consequently involves rights and duties with respect to the whole human race. Every social group must take into account the needs and legitimate aspirations of other groups, and even of the general welfare of the entire human family. 41 Viewed in this perspective social justice becomes the form of all other social virtues, a continuous call for adaptation to social development with regard to the highest perceptible common good. Commutative, distributive, and legal (state) justice must be inspired by social justice which takes into consideration the highest common good, now more and more the common good of mankind as a whole. Technical, economic, and political development, coupled with social interdependence and confronted with persisting inequalities, have created a situation in which the full content of the common good can no longer be confined to the individual state, much less to any smaller group. The true justice will be the justice inscribed in our conscience and respecting men as men. The Church wishes to inculcate this kind of justice not as a moral disposition of persons but also as a public concern of society. 42 The term " social justice " is not used by St. Thomas, but the idea is more than implicit both in the concept of " legal " or " general " justice and in his political thought as a whole. This is clear from Aquinas's concept of man, his flexible conception of society, his openended perspective of the common "Pastoral Constitution on the Church, no. fl6 . .. Ibid., no. 91. (Also Divini Redemptoris, nos. 51-54). AQUINAS .AND SOCl.At.. TE.ACHlNG OF THE CHURCH 847 good, and his understanding o£ justice not as a juridical device £or regulating conflicting claims but as a moral disposition which makes the possessor good by his willing good to the other. There are textual indications in this regard. One is the distinction which Aquinas makes between the legal and the moral due (debitum legale-debitum nwrale) . A falling short of the just due may be considered in respect of a twofold due, moral and legal ... The legal due is that which one is bound to render by reason of a legal obligation and this due is chiefly the concern of justice, which is the principal virtue. On the other hand, the moral due is that to which one is bound in respect of the rectitude of virtue .... 43 There are things which one does because o£ law, and there are things one does to be virtuous. A similar point is made in regard to epikeia. Epikeia is a part of justice taken in the widest sense. In this way it is clearly a subjective part. And it is called justice in a fuller sense than legal justice, because epikeia is a norm over and above legal justice. Epikeia thus stands as a kind of higher rule for human actions. 44 Commenting on this text Thomas Gilby writes: In this context justitia legalis means legalistic justice; elsewhere it means the legal or general justice which serves the common good. The terms are the same, but the notions are very different, for equity is not legalistic but is the highest expression of legal justice: the common good it serves is the truest commonwealth of persons. 45 The point made is the same as the one implied in social justice. Social justice demands positive action £or the good of the others beyond merely refraining from harming or simply fulfilling the law. Aquinas sees the human situation as one in which the common good of all cannot be served if limited to the letter of laws •• Summa Theol., II-II, q. 80, a. 1. .. Ibid., q. 120, a. 2. •• Thomas Gilby: BefJween Community and Society (Longmans, Green and Co. 1958), p. 804 (Note). 848 JANKO ZAGAR and precepts or to the narrow groups which exclude concern for mankind as a whole, and this is what social justice aims to correct. The significance of Aquinas's contribution The preceding cursory assessment of Aquinas's social theology as it relates to and is reflected by the social teaching of the Church can hardly do justice to the subject. Nevertheless, it should indicate that important aspects of the Church's teaching are covered by Aquinas's theological insights. Since space does not permit us to pursue a more detailed analysis, it may be helpful, in conclusion, to attempt to synthesize what may be his essential contribution to our concrete situation. We propose to do this by returning to and focussing on the issue which by its very nature remains essential to all social relations, namely, the individual versus the common good and, as we mentioned at the beginning, a contemporary crisis in this regard. Man is basically goal-oriented; his natural drive is for happiness and, for that matter, a personal happiness. But the common good is an integral part of this orientation since no personal happiness is possible outside human fellowship of some kind. It is because of a common good which is perceived as a necessary condition for personal good that people associate, accept common values, and submit to laws and authority. If no such common good is evident, people become confused, socially critical, politically subversive, and ultimately amoral in their private and public business. One of the main problems in our contemporary world is that we have lost the perspective of the common good as a society of human persons and, as a consequence, the authentic meaning of personhood itself. The highest common good that contemporary man perceives is the corporative interest of the group to which he happens to belong and on which his existence (mainly material) depends. This may be his political party, labor union, corporation, professional association, or some similar grouping. A significant symptom of how comprehensive such groups can be is the fact AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 849 that most of them operate on their own " code of ethics " to which the individual must conform not only as a professional member but as a human person. The human person is thus absorbed into a group whose goal is not really the human person but rather political victory, profit, success, and similar objectives that in most cases leave the individual with only one concern, "on the job security." Such goals, however, are humanly unfulfilling and socially divisive. The perspective of a humanly unifying common good is thus conspicuously missing on both the national and the international levels. The international situation, especially, is still dominated by narrow nationalism, political blocs, and economic exploitation. The result of this is a " morality of rules and games " for both individuals and nations: how far one can go without punishment, or at best, without hurting others. There is no doubt that such amorality permeates most of our actions and r.elations. The symptoms are manifest not only in such arrant actions as terrorism, revolutionary movements, draft evasion, and civil disobedience, but also in more subtle expressions of selfishness in demands for abortion, euthanasia and geneticsocial engineering, the high divorce rate, in indifference to the needy, and in many other forms of flight from social responsibility. The point we wish to make is not that there are no motivations in some instances (e. g., disobedience to an unjust law) , even good motivations, rather that there is no humanly unifying motivation. In the absence of such motivation human rights are conceived as an affirmation of the self, not as a recognition of the other, with everyone presumed to fight his own battle. All this is not necessarily a matter of corruption. Modern man has been ideologically prepared for his attitude by the materialistic and subjectivistic outlook of several centuries, nourished with promises, and frustrated by experience. Even such great political manifestoes as the Declaration of Independence and the French Declaration of the Rights of Man were not untouched by the spirit of the time. Although they laid the grounds for what could still be the best democracy in the 850 JANKO ZAGAR world, they missed an important component. Directed, understandably for that time, toward the expansion of individual autonomy against the absolutism of decadent monarchies, they nevertheless took a position of principle that was not immune from abuse. Marx describes this principle in one of his manuscripts as based not on the relation but on the separation of men. Autonomy and private initiative, unsupported by any other moral principle or goal, soon opened the door to private caprice which favored the rich and powerful and neglected the poor. When 1'Abbe Sieyes proposed a parallel declaration of duties in the French Assembly, he was defeated. The paradox of the present time is that, while such a subjective and materialistic outlook persists mentally, it has become unworkable in practice. The pursuit of individualistic and narrow nationalistic goals has become unrealistic under the pressure of that inescapable interdependence to which we have already referred as the " process of socialization " imposed upon us by modern living. An example in point is the present-day legislation which, unlike the declarations of human rights or even the legislation of a century ago, tends to limit rather than enlarge individual autonomy. There is an additional aggravating circumstance in this regard. In the process of affirming his autonomy the individual has lost the authentic source of his rights in his natural dignity (still implicit in the original declarations of human rights) by placing it in the power of the state or its judicial branch. Now when his autonomy is menaced by limitations he has no recourse beyond the same power which limits it. Aquinas offers a different perspective based, as we pointed out, on the natural and redemptive dignity of the person, the naturalness of human society, a common good that has a human dimension, and a justice which considers not things but persons. Let us elaborate on this perspective by addressing ourselves to another change which, by some of its results, is not unlike the one we just described. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church refers to this change when it .states that " the human race has passed from a rather static concept of AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 851 reality to a more dynamic, evolutionary one." 46 As new discoveries are made daily in science and technology, such that no single human mind can keep track of, much less attempt to synthesize, then also the traditional notions of substances and ultimate values begin to be questioned. The result, once again, is the disappearance of a long range vision of personal destiny in favor of concrete experience and immediate objectives as the only meaningful realities to be considered. In this context Aquinas's natural law ethic and his teleological method are often presented as inadequate for " the signs of the times." It is true and generally acknowledged that Aquinas's concept of natural law must not be confused with the "manual" interpretation of it which permeated most of pre-Vatican II morality. But even if Aquinas's natural law is purified of its subsequent juridical and physical interpretation, the question may still be raised whether, in view of the new evolutionary concept of reality, the v.ery assumption of a natural law and a goaloriented ethics aiming at some unifying objective of moral and social endeavor can still hold. In answering this question we believe that it not only holds but that it holds in harmony with a dynamic conception of reality and provides a means, if one is to be found, to rescue man from his confusing moral agony and society from its self-destruction. Aquinas's concept of reality, and especially of political realities, is anything but static. In history there have been static conceptions of the common good. Christendom, feudalism, monarchy, socialism, private property, progress, tradition, law and order; and many other things have all been mistakenly identified with absolute values at one time or another. Aquinas never subscribed to such identification. If the whole itself is not an ultimate but subordinate to a further end, then a person's ultimate end does not lie there but somewhere beyond. The universe of creatures, to which man is compared as part to whole, is not the ultimate end but is ordered to God who is the ultimate end. And so man's final destiny is reached with God himself, not within the universeY 46 •7 Pastoral Constitution on the Church, no. 5. Summa Theol., I-II, q. 2, a. 8 ad 2. 852 JANKO ZAGAR The transcendence of the human person over and above any given structure, and his own continuous growth, could not be put in clearer terms. But Aquinas still maintains a purpose to such social and personal becoming, and this makes a difference. The difficulty, therefore, that Aquinas would have with process thought is not process as such, but process without purpose that would leave the world in chaos and man without meaning. For Aquinas, human dynamics has a goal which can be discerned, and when it is discerned it is the duty of man as a rational and free agent to bring all his activity into line with it. It is from this stance which integrates dynamics and purpose that we derive Aquinas's first contribution in regard to our contemporary needs. This is a call for a reintegration of family, professional, economic, juridical, political, and international life into the moral order of human responsibility. We cannot play games. In this reintegration the natural law still holds its place, not as a closed, codified system but as human reason seeking understanding. Human and social conditions may and do call for a more explicit juridical expression of this law in terms of natural rights and positive legislation, but these must not be confused with the creative role of intelligence in gaining new insights into a changing reality and moving toward formulating new rights. In this respect Aquinas differs not only from the physicism and absolutism of the natural law but also from those who, swayed by evolutionism, deny any reality or purpose to human life from which a process of discovering ethical truth could begin. This is not a suggestion of compromise, it is a matter of evidence on which rests another of Aquinas's contributions. Although the natural law must not be coneused with the laws of nature, natural and anthropological, biological and psychological data are not without meaning for the goal of human life. Aquinas's position is that we may know little about human nature and less about the individual human person, but we know enough to make a significant start in moral and social investigation. We know that pain hurts and pleasure delights. Aquinas, Bentham, Freud, and everyone of us agree that to AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 853 avoid pain and seek happiness is our basic drive. It may be an exercise of frustration, but it is still a fact of life. Significantly for our modern knowledge and mentality, Aquinas, instead of beginning his study of morality by reference to extrinsic norms and established values, begins with man's intrinsic, instinctive inclination: his total orientation to good. To be good and to be desirable signify the same, and since evil is the opposite of good, it is out of the question that any evil as such can be directly wanted, either by natural appetite, or by animal appetite, or by intelligent appetite, which is the will.48 It is from such human experience and reality which no evolution has yet denied that our understanding of good and evil, right and wrong unfolds through trial and error. Implicit in this also is the .search for meaning in life, another datum which can hardly be disputed, although some may never find meaning in their lives. The purpose of morals is to seek the meaning of life, the ultimate meaning, if possible, and to act accordingly. Aquinas makes no secret about his own findings and their implication. If there is an ultimate goal of human life it can only be God. He is the source of all fullness, stability, and continuity; everything else is contingent and limited. The conclusion is theological but not without important political implications. It keeps the perspective of growth and happiness open-ended and protects the person against submission and enslavement to the contingent systems and values of a changing world. As the human person in his existential condition is the subject of his actions, so also is he-the image of God-the first judge of his happiness and the first (proximate) norm of his morality. The primacy of the agent (finis operantis) over the material objectivity of the act (finis operis) runs through the entire treatise on the morality of human acts (I-II, qq. 18-21). It is unequivocally expressed in a statement concerning conscience. " To believe in Christ," writes Aquinas, "is good in itself and necessary for salvation; all the same this does not •• Ibid., I, q. 19, a. 9. 854 JANKO ZAGAR win the will unless it be commanded by reason. If the reason presents it as bad, then the will reaches to it in that light, not that it really is bad in itself but because of a condition that happens to be attached by the reason of apprehending it." 49 Although not explicitly referred to, this statement underlies in essence the Vatican II Declaration on Religious Freedom and condemns any conversion that is not founded on personal conviction. The same stance justifies the principle of subsidiarity in its roots and prohibits any forced absorption of the individual into collective thinking or acting. This, however, is the beginning, not the end, of moral process. An important turn sets in as soon as we realize that we can seldom act on appearances and never in isolation. Not just man's basic drive and his own reason, but the whole gamut of the human condition-the possibility of error, the reality of others, the social nature of man, his past, his future as well as his redemption-must be brought into personal judgment if a right decision and true moral progress are to follow. It is here that we may discover Aquinas's most important contribution that permeates the Church's social teaching from the beginning to the end. This consists in suggesting a reorientation of personal and social mores from an individualistic and selfcentered position toward a principle of fellowship which recognizes the other not as a limitation but as a concern. Contrary, therefore, to the aforementioned materialistic and subjectivistic outlook Aquinas's moral and social concern centers not on the affirmation of the .self, which is instinctive, but on the recognition of the other, which is more difficult. Personal conscience and freedom remain fundamental, but true moral growth consists in a process o£ continually objectifying oneself; continually proceeding from an initial, natural subjectivism to an ever greater identification with others in search for goods and values that are common to all. The practical implications o£ this position are that positive laws must be kept to a minimum, even at some risk, but personal response must grow in depth; right is not what is due to the self but what is due to the other, and •• Summa Theologiae, I-ll, 19:5. Ibid., 1-11, q. 19, a. 5. AQUINAS AND SOCIAL TEACHING OF THE CHURCH 855 justice is not about things but persons. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church summarizes these ideas when it states that: no better way exists for attaining a truly human political life than by fostering an inner sense of justice, benevolence, and service for the common good, and by strengthening basic beliefs about the true nature of political community, and about the proper exercise and limits of public authority. 50 In this regard we would like to mention, even if we cannot pursue a more thorough parallel, that the United Nations' Universal Declaration of Human Rights marks a significant departure from positivistic and juridical traditions toward the direction of Aquinas's humanism. Thus the dignity of man consists in his "being endowed with reason" (art. 1); his rights belong to him as a person (art. 2, 3, 6, etc.); society is his natural setting since in " community . . . alone the free and full development of his personality is possible," for which reason the individual has not only rights but also " duties to the community" (art. 29). Simone Weil writes in Oppnssion and Liberty that " the ideal is just as unattainable as the dream, but differs from the dream in that it concerns reality." 51 Aquinas's conception of human fellowship and of the common good offers an ideal which is not a dream. Against ethically neutral social and political relations on the one hand and our failure to live unequivocally the rules of justice on the other, Aquinas's common good calls for a commonwealth of free human persons sharing their material and spiritual goods in terms of justice, which thus becomes the kernel of the common good itself. The political ideal may never be fully obtained, but once its perspective is clear it becomes and remains a challenging point of reference for the ongoing evaluation, change, and progress of an always imperfect existential condition. JANKO ZAGAR, 0. P. St. Albert's College Oakland, California Pastoral Constitution on the Church, no. 78. Simone Weil: Oppression and Liberty. Translated by Arthur Wills and John Petrie (The University of Massachusetts Press, 1978), p. 84. 50 51 THE TWO APPROACHES TO LANGUAGE: PHILOSOPHICAL AND HISTORICAL REFLECTIONS OF DEPARTURE oF JEAN PoiNSOT's ON THE POINT SEMIOTIC " We publish our position without yielding to contention or jealous rivalry, but giving ourselves to the pursuit of truth, which concerns doctrine and not persons." "To the Reader" of the Cursus Philosophicus of Jean Poinsot. Alcala, Spain, 1631. ( ( RELATIONS DO NOT exist as such; they do not constitute a mode of being; when two entities are related-whether they are related as knower and known, as father and son, as double and half, or any other way-the relation exists entitatively as an accident in each of the relata. It does not exist as something in between them, not inhering in either of them. There is, in short no inter-subjective mode of being; for ev.erything that exists exists either as a subject (i.e., a substance) or in a subject (i.e., an accident)." 1 This proposition, or set of propositions, proved to be, in the light of my five years (1969-1974) as Senior Fellow r.esponsible for the direction and development of language research at the Institute for Philosophical Research in Chicago, the dialectically and philosophically crucial one for understanding (and systematically grasping the remedy for) the inveterate subjectivism and penchant toward solipsism that has beset philosophy 1 Mortimer J. Adler, "Sense Cognition: Aristotle vs. Aquinas," The NI'JW Scholasticism, XLII (Autumn, 1968), p. in reply to John N. Deely, "The Immateriality of the International as Such," in No. of the same volume and journal; Adler's emphases. 856 THE TWO APPROACHES TO LANGUAGE 857 throughout its career in the national languages of modern times. For, in the course of my investigations into the philosophical literature concerning language, it came to light that in 1632, during the lifetime of Hobbes, Descartes, and Suarez, Jean Poinsot, the last philosopher, practically speaking, to hold the contrary of the above proposition up until Hegel/ was also able to demonstrate that what is at stake in this straightforward proposition is the possible convertibility of being and truth within the order of human understanding, and the successful culmination-through the systematic application to discourse of the contrast between the relative secundum dici and secundum esse-of the old medieval controversies over the " transcendental " properties of being, i. e., the properties whereby the order of the knowable includes indifferently objective elements of being and non-being so far as it falls under perception and conception. We are confronted here with a situation that is, as Jacques Maritain well remarked, "puzzling to realize." 3 Even the most advanced professors and students of philosophy today are unlikely to have encountered the name of Jean Poinsot in the course of their researches and studies. 4 The dis2 That is to say, the last proponent at the dawn of the national language phase of Western philosophy of the view that relations as such constitute precisely an intersubjective mode of being, existing according to what is proper to it neither as a subject nor in a subject, but as a suprasubjective means of union betweoo (tertium quid) a subject and some thing that subject is not. 8 " It is puzzling to realize that the treasures contained in their writings "-i.e., the writings of the commentators and defenders of St. Thomas, particularly, perhaps, in Iberia, between the 13th and the 17th centuries-" have remained, for so many generations, unknown except to a very few.... " Jacques Maritain, letter to Yves Simon, printed as the "Preface" to The Material Logic of John of St. Thomas [i.e., Jean Poinsot] trans. by Yves R. Simon, John J. Glanville, and G. Donald Hollenhorst (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1955), p. v. See the " Thomistic Afterword " at the end of this present article. ' Nonetheless, Poinsot, an Iberian thinker who wrote under the name " Jolm of St. Thomas," was a figure of exceptional prominence in his day. The principal historical materials relating to Poinsot's person and life have been gathered together and analyzed in the "Praefatio Editorum " to Joannis a Sancto Thoma, Cur8'U8 Theologicus, edited by the Benedictine Monks of Solesmes, France (Paris: Desclee, 1931), Vol. I. 858 JOHN N. DEELY tinction between what is relative secundum dici and what is relative secundum esse is hardly more familiar. Consequently, we have to do here with a philosopher and a doctrine that ar.e, for all practical purposes, universally unknown today, and that yet rival and surpass the importance of Immanuel Kant for understanding the present philosophical situation and interpreting its historical essentials. For in revealing how and why the ancient doctrine of the relative is essentially at issue in the celebrated controversies over the obj.ects of apprehension (and particularly in the denial of universality), while achieving for the first time a clarity in principle at the foundation and base of the ancient doctrine, Poinsot's work, for those who learn how to read it, brings into an extremely clear propositional focus the essential features of the doctrinal melange that spreads outward and across the centuries after 1300 from the circle of William of Ockham in what concerns the theory of knowledge and truth, providing-again for the first time-an entirely unambiguous ontological grounding for the notion of " realism." By the same stroke, Poinsot's Treatise on Signs provides the Ariadne's thread which enables us to trace in this same area the effective influences which made their way, in the period from 1600 to 1800, across the line separating the Latin phase of Western philosophizing from the national language phase of the modern period up to the present time. I. WIEDERHOLUNG: THE TEXT AND DOCTRINAL FOUNDATIONS OF POINSOT'S TREATISE ON SIGNS. What I refer to as Poinsot's Treatise on Signs appears embedded within a much larger Cursus Philosophicus entirely by the same author published in Spain in five serial volumes between the years 1631 and 1635.5 Within the entirety of the 5 The latest complete edition of this work was done in three volumes with extensive indices by B. Reiser under the title, Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus (Turin: Marietti, 1930-1934). H.-D. Simonin, in a "Review" in the Bulletin Thomiste, III (1930-1933) p. 148, has said of Reiser's work: " Telle qu'elle se presente !'edition de Don: R. est desormais !'edition classique de Jean de St.-Thomas." See following note. THE TWO APPROACHES TO LANGUAGE 859 Cursus Philosophicus, however, Poinsot makes it clear that the Treatise on Signs occupies a virtually independent and entirely privileged position. This appears from a sufficiently careful analysis of the structure of the Cursus as a whole, illumined by Poinsot's remarks concerning his treatment of signs within that whole. Ars Logica is the collective name for the first two of the five parts of Poinsot's Cursus Philosophicus. It is from the Ars Logica that the whole of the Treatise on Signs (tractatus d'3 signis) derives. 6 The Prima Pars Artis Logicae, published in 1631 at Alcala, Spain, consists of an introductory logic text for beginners-called Summulae books, according to the custom of the times-followed by a series of eight " Quaestiones Disputandae " or exercises designed to illustrate some difficulties incident to the Summulae books. The Secunda Pars Artis Logicae was published at Alcala in and is of an altogether different character, dealing primarily with questions raised by the imperfect interrelations of truth and logical form. Whereas Part I was intended for beginning students, Part II is intended for advanced students, and indeed for the author's peers. More philosophical than logical, by modern standards, the task of Part II is " to explain-leisurely, patiently, thoroughly, and with unique skill in the selection and multiplication of standpoints-a restricted number of wonderful questions." 7 The readers of this Part, 6 In Part II of the Ars Logica, Questions !il1-!il3 are the questions expressly devoted to the subject of signs, and it is to these three questions that Poinsot, in a special "Preface" added to the 1640 Madrid edition of Part II of the Ars Logica, expressly assigns the title, " tractatus de signis." This Preface may be found reprinted in the Reiser edition of the Ars Logica (Turin, Italy: Marietti, 1930), p. !il49. All page references to Poinsot's work in subsequent notes will, without exception, be from this 1930 Reiser edition of the Ars Logica, and will include column and line references along with the page numbers. • Yves R. Simon, "Foreword" to The Material Logic of John of St. Thomas, translated by Yves R. Simon, John J. Glanville, and G. Donald Hollenhorst (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1955), p. xx. This volume is an English translation covering three-fifths or so of Part II of the Ars Logica, without envisioning the unique and controlling status of the theory of signs either within the Ars Logica or in relation to the Cursus Philosophicus as a whole. 860 JOHN N. DEELY in Poinsot's milieu, could all be assumed familiar with the Organon (the logical works) of Aristotle and with the major Latin writings related thereto; and it must be said that, taken questions comprising Part II of the as a whole, the series of Ars Logica acquires continuity and completeness only when set explicitly in relation to the Latin translations of Aristotle's texts together with the major Latin discussions sparked by those texts all the way back to Boethius in the 6th century. This makes for enormous difficulty in reading Poinsot, because it means that llOO years of Latin discussions of logical and philosophical questions are resumed and at issue at each point of Poinsot's work. 8 In the particular case of the discussion of signs, fortunately, this difficulty is minimized, owing to the originality of Poinsot's standpoint, and to his conscious intention in giving it expression. At the very beginning of the Ars Logica, in a" Word to the Reader," Poinsot draws particular attention to the originality in his handling of signs: We have taken care to cut out [of the introductory text] an immense forest of intractable questions and a thorny thicket of sophisms .... The metaphysical and other difficulties from the books On the Soul which break out in the very beginning of the Summulae books from the ardor of disputants, we have removed to their proper place, and we have set forth the tractate on signs and awarenesses in Logic in relation to the Perihermenias books.• 8 With characteristic dead-pan, Henry Veatch, in his book, Intentional Logic (New Haven: Yale, 195!il), p. ix, says of the Ars Logica: "For all its wealth, it must be admitted that this book was written in the seventeenth century, in Latin, and with what might loosely be called a thoroughly Scholastic orientation. In consequence, the basic issues and problems of logic as they appeared to John of St. Thomas are scarcely such as they would appear to be in this day and age, after Principia Matkematica and the Tractatus LogicoPkilosopkicus." 9 Joannis a Sancto Thoma [i.e., Jean Poinsot], Ars Logica, new edition by B. Reiser (Turin: Marietti, 1930), p. 1: "Ut brevitatem [S. Thomae] imitaremur, immensam inextricabilium quaestionum silvam et spinosa sophismatum dumeta excidere curavimus, quae audientium mentibus onerosae et pungentes utilitatis nihil, dispendii non parum afferebant. Ad haec metaphysicas difficultates pluresque alias ex libris de Anima, quae disputantium ardore in ipsa Summularum cunabula irruperant, suo loco amandavimus et tractatum de signis et notitiis in Logica super librum Perihermenias expedimus." THE TWO APPROACHES TO LANGUAGE 861 Why does Poinsot regard the discussion of Aristotle's Perihermenias books as the proper context for considering the nature and function of signs? Not because of the actual content of the traditional books so named, he will explain (in his "Remarks Concerning the Books Perihermenias "), but because of the name itself, perihermenias, which means, in Latin, "concerning interpretation" (de interpretatione). In writing his books on this subject, Aristotle (and subsequently his commentators) restricted the consideration of interpretation to the logical elements of discourse, with the result that the subject of interpretation has been (as of Poinsot's time) neither fundamentally nor adequately treated. For interpretation, being an activity coextensive with human awareness in its entirety, is far more universal than logical analysis, and indeed, being based on signs, it includes the logicians' instruments along with the many other instruments by which sense is made out of the world. Thus, if the theory of interpretation is to become transparent to itself and grounded in principle, Poinsot is saying, it must not restrict itself to logical elements as such (as in the older Aristotelian tradition) but must extend itself to include a consideration of signs taken in their entire amplitude. It is the recognition of this fact that leads Poinsot to say that, in setting his discussion of signs in relation to the Perihermenias books, he has at the same time found the proper place for inserting a Treatise on Signs into the philosophical tradition of the Latin West. Hence the distinctive cast of Poinsot's Treatise: it introduces a revolutionary viewpoint, but it does so in a conservative way. Nothing of the old tradition is lost, but it is yet made to surpass itself in the direction of its foundations. A. The Task of Discriminating the Ground of the Terminology and Structure of the Treatise on Signs. The order of development followed over the three questionsor " Books," as I will ref.er to them-of The Treatise on Signs seems straightforward enough: " Concerning the rationale 862 JOHN N. DEELY proper to signs," Poinsot writes (642a38-b2), "there are two principal points of controversy. The first concerns the nature and definition of signs; the second concerns the division of signs, and each divided member in particular." Thus, the first "book" of the Treatise (Question 21 of Part II of the Ars Logica) deals with the ontological status or nature of signs, the second " book" (Question 22) deals with the various kinds of signs, and the third "book" (Question 23) extends the discussion of the division of signs into certain details of controversies prominent in Poinsot's time on which the theory of signs has a direct bearing. Yet the reader who seeks to master the terms of this "straightforward " development is soon brought up short by the theoretical demands the Treatise places on the A1·s Logica as a whole in order to become fully intelligible in its own rightdemands brought quickly into focus by Poinsot's preliminary remark that " this inquiry into the nature and definable character of signs depends principally on an understanding of minddependent being and of the category of relation," 10 coupled with his setting of the problematic for the Treatise as a whole in terms of the contrast between what is relative secundum esse and what is relative secundum dici.11 With these clues alone to guide him, Poinsot leaves to his reader (and this no doubt largely explains why the Treatise so long lay hidden within the general oblivion that befell Aristotelian writings after the 17th century) the most difficult task of conceptually locating the ground and architectural conception of the Treatise as an independent whole. To accomplish this task is the aim of this first part of this article and will serve to doctrinally situate Poinsot's work. After that, we will be in a hermeneutic position to essay an historical situation of the work. 10 Poinsot, "Super Libros Perihermenias," in the Ars Logica, " ... quaestiones istae de signis ... in hoc loco genuine introducuntur, post notitiam habitam de ente rationis et praedicamento relationis, a quibus principaliter dependet inquisitio ista de natura et quidditate signorum." 11 Treatise on Signs, Book I, Question 1 (i.e., Ar Logica, Part II, Question Article 1: see following note), 646b16-45 (partially cited in note below). THE TWO APPROACHES TO LANGUAGE 863 B. The Textual Requirements of the Treatise on Signs as an Independent Whole. Of the 27 "questions" comprising Part II of the Ars Logiea, one Article of Question 1 and the whole of Question is devoted to the topic of mind-dependent being, while the whole of Question 17 is devoted to discussing the topic of relation. A careful reading of these sections within an eye to the discussion of signs reveals that the first, second, and fourth Articles of Question 2, and the first three Articles of Question 17, provide all the terms and distinctions indispensable for following the discussion of signs in Questions (i.e., the three "Books" of the Treatise). When I have occasion to refer to the Articles from Question 17, I will refer to them as "Appendix A," followed by page and line numbers in Reiser's edition of the Ars Logiea. Articles from Question 2 I will refer to as "Appendix B." The inclusion of these two Appendices meets all the textual requirements that the larger project of the Ars Logiea imposes as a matter of strict necessity on the reader of Poinsot's Treatise on Signs. 12 From a purely conceptual standpoint these two Appendices suffice to constitute the Treatise as an independent whole vis-a-vis the Ars Logiea and CurSWJ Philosophieus. However, the careful reader is soon led to realize (e. g., by 290a30-34, 29lb1-40) that what Poinsot calls the " aliquid peculiare relationis "-the ontological peculiarity of relation in the order of existence, let us say is the guiding insight for Poinsot's discussion of mind-dependent 12 Questions 21-23, i.e., the main parts of the tractate, I will refer to, as was said in the text above, as "Books I-III," and I will refer to the Articles subdividing them as " Questions " rather than Articles, though "Article " will be retained as the name of the main sub-divisions of the material in the "Appendices." This system of reference conforms to the translation of the Treatise on Signs now being completed by myself in consultation with Ralph A. Powell for publication as an independent whole. Pending the appearance of this work, if the reader will keep in mind that all page, column, and line references to the Treatise conform, as indicated in notes 6 and 11 above, to the text of the 1930 Reiser edition of the A rs Logica, there should be no cause for confusion on the part of those pursuing any references herein given. 864 JOHN N. DEELY being and relation alike and is therefore the most fundamental notion to be grasped in embarking on his theory of signs. Thus, while the Articles from both Question Q and Question 17 are essential to the reader of the Treatise on Signs, priority goes to the Articles drawn from Question 17. It is necessary above all to have a sure grasp of the traditional materials at Poinsot's disposal in terms of which these Articles were framed. Without a knowledge of these basic texts and controversies, the starting point of Poinsot's Treatise-namely, the assignation of sign to the class of things, ontologically relative in their opposition to transcendentally relatives-is bound to seem recondite and artificial, if not arbitrary. With a knowledge of the traditional materials involved, however, the naturalness and simplicityindeed, the necessary element-of Poinsot's point de depart shows all the traces of philosophical genius of the purest type at work. Let us try to see, if we can, what is at stake in Poinsot's beginning where he does. C. The Discussion of the Relativ:e in Ancient Greece from the Perspective of the CuTsus Philosophicus. It was in Aristotle's attempt to work out a categorial scheme for the order of mind-independent being that the notion of the relative, in the sense that proves decisive for understanding (from the standpoint of Poinsot's TTeatise) the fate of Western philosophy at the dawn of modern times, first began to come into focus. Accordingly, we begin our account with that attempt. According to the view of Aristotelian physics the natural world is comprised of "a many, each of which is itself one," 18 and subject to change in time. The " ones" or fundamental natural units in this scheme Aristotle called substance, and the various ways in which the being of a substance could be aff.ected without losing its basic self-identity Aristotle called accidents, 18 Aristotle, Metaphysics, Book III, Chapter 4, 100 lb5-6: "all things are either one or many, and of the many each is one": lhravTa ae Ta IJvTa i) i) 7roAX&., Wv gKaUTov. THE TWO APPROACHES TO LANGUAGE 865 of which he himself enumerated nine. Substance and the nine accidents make up the traditional list of Aristotelian categories. Though the number of categories that ought to be listed was sometimes argued over among the important figures in the Latin West, by the time of the high Middle Ag.es, there was general agreement among them as to the purpose for which the Aristotelian categorial scheme had been devised, a consensus well expressed by Poinsot in the following passage: The distinction of the categories was introduced for this, that the orders and classes of diverse natures might be set forth, to which all the things which participate some nature might be reduced; and on this basis the first thing that must be excluded from every category is mind-dependent being, because being which depends for its being on being cognized (mind-dependent being) has not a nature nor a true entity, but a constructed one, and therefore must be relegated not to a true category, but to a constructed one. Whence St. Thomas says (in q. 7, art. 9 of his Disputed Questions on Power) that only a thing independent of the soul pertains to the categories." Substance and its accidents thus were understood by our author in the traditional sense as constituting the categories of mind-independent ways of being. Aristotle was of the opinion that a category of " the relative " ought to be included in the list of categorial accidents, and his first suggestion for the definition of this category was as follows: Those things are called relative which, being either said to be something else or related to something else, are explained by reference to that other thing.'" "Ars Logica (Reiser ed.), Part II, Q. XIV, Art. 1, "Quid sit praedicamentum et quid requiratur ut aliquid sit in praedicamento," " Et quia praedicamentorum distinctio ad hoc introducta est, ut diversarum naturarum ordines et classes proponerentur, ad quae omnia, quae naturam aliquam participant, reducerentur, ideo imprimis secludendum est ab omni praedicamento ens rationis, quia non habet naturam neque entitatem veram, sed fictam, ideoque neque ad praedicamentum verum, sed fictum reici debet. Unde D. Thomas q. 7. de Potentia art. 9. tantum res extra animam dicit pertinere ad praedicamenta." 15 Aristotle, Categories, ch. 7, 6a36-39: Ilp6s TL li€ ra TOLavra 'A€-yerat, liua atlra a:rrep eur!v ETEpWV elvat AE')'€TaL, i} C!'trWG'OVV lf.AAWS 'trpOS o!ov TO p.e'ifov rovO' 15'trep eurlv erepov 'Al-yerat • I have cited the translation by E. M. Edghill in 866 JOHN N. DEELY Although this definition of the category of relation seemed sound to Aristotle/ 6 he conceded that it presented some difficulty from the point of view of constituting a distinct category within the substance-accident scheme: Indeed, if our definition of that which is relative was complete, it is very difficult, if not impossible to prove that no substance is relative. If, however, our definition was not complete, if those things only are properly called relative in the case of which relation to an external object is a necessary condition of existence, perhaps some explanation of the dilemma may be found. The former definition does indeed apply to all relatives, but the fact that a thing is explained with reference to something else does not make it essentially relative.H The Basic Works of Aristotle, ed. by Richard McKeon (New York: Random House, 1941), p. 17. Cf. the translation by J. L. Ackrill, Aristotle's Categories and De lnterpretatione (Oxford: Clarendon, 1963) , p. 17: " We call relatives all such things as are said to be just what they are, of or than other things, or in some other way in relation to something else." 16 For example, he explicitly re-affirms it at ibid., 6b6-9: 1rp6s n ovv Oaa aVrCt IJ:rrep furlv €r€pwv elvat A€""feTaL, 7} 07T'wuoVv liAAws 1rpbs flrepov, olov l>pos pi.-ya Xt"f