Maximus the Confessor

M Magentenos, Leo ▶ Leo Magentenos Mair, John ▶ John Mair Manuel Chrysoloras GEORGE ARABATZIS Research Centre on Greek Philosophy Academy of Athens Athens Greece Abstract Manuel Chrysoloras (c. 1350–1415) was a Byzantine writer and scholar better known as professor of Greek language in Florence after 1397, the first one to hold public teaching office of Greek in Italy. His audience included famous Italian humanists like Guarino da Verona (his most loyal pupil), Jacopo Angeli da Scarperia, Coluccio Salutati, Roberto Rossi, Niccolò Niccoli, Leonardo Bruni, Carlo Marsuppini, Pier Paolo Vergerio, Uberto Decembrio, Poggio Bracciolini, and others. After 1400, Chrysoloras left his teaching position and carried out mainly diplomatic missions in the service of the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Palaiologos. He converted to Cathol- icism and died in 1415 in Constance, Switzerland, while attending the Synod in an effort to convince the West- erners to save Byzantium from the Ottoman threat. He used a personal method of teaching that consisted in part in the discussion between the students of the translation of Greek works. He translated Plato’s Republic with the help of his student Uberto Decembrio and his son Pier Henrik Lagerlund (ed.), Encyclopedia of Medieval Philosophy, # Springer Science+Business Media B.V., 2011 710 M Manuel Chrysoloras western Europe, has been widely recognized. Writers such as Carlo Rosmini, Jacob Burckhardt, John Addington Symonds, and Remigio Sabbadini have given him, deservedly, honorable mention as the teacher of a number of influential humanists’’ (Thomson 1966:63). But it was a monograph by Cammelli published in 1941 that permitted the modern evaluation and scholarly appreciation of his life and activity. Chrysoloras’ coming to Italy marks the real beginning of Greek studies in Italy. Thanks to him, the Italian humanists of various scholarly interests were able to focus on the rich classical tradition of Byzantium. Among his famous pupils and those attending his lessons we can name Guarino da Verona, Jacopo Angeli da Scarperia, Coluccio Salutati, Roberto Rossi, Niccolò Niccoli, Leonardo Bruni, Carlo Marsuppini, Pier Paolo Vergerio, Uberto Decembrio, Poggio Bracciolini et al. Jacopo Angeli da Scarperia described Chrysoloras as ‘‘eruditissimus (et) suavissimus literarum Graecarum. . . praeceptor.’’ It has been said that the teaching activity of Chrysoloras was auxiliary to his principal mission and that it had a political motive. His very first voyage to Italy was of diplomatic nature and his invitation to a teaching position may have been a response to a need for a more profound rapprochement than the establish- ment of good diplomatic relations between the East and the West. As professor of Greek he was always related to influential people and his subsequent career was clearly that of a diplomat. His conversion to Catholicism must also be seen as part of the Byzantine politics of reconcili- ation with the West. In Andrea Giuliano’s funeral oration on Chrysoloras we read that his true task was rather ‘‘to save his country from danger than give delight to Italy’’ (Thomson 1966:81). Thought and Works It seems that Chrysoloras had a natural charisma for communicating and a friendly and warm character. His reputation was not based solely on his teaching ability but also on his methodology, and furthermore on his ideas on education. His approach marked a rupture with the tra- dition of medieval education; as Paolo Vergerio’s De ingenuis moribus (1404) shows, Chrysoloras has given the learned men in the West a vigorous inspiration as to the ideals of Greek education while Leonardo Bruni’s De studiis et litteris (c. 1425) gives a detailed exposition of the pedagogic technique that Chrysoloras had brought from Constantinople. The technique stressed accurate pronun- ciation, the use of mnemonics, constant and regular revi- sion of each lesson’s topics and the preparation of copious notes under the headings of methodice (grammar, syntax, position has to be further elucidated. He was close to Demetrios Kydones, a key figure in the Latinophile Party of Constantinople, who translated Thomas Aquinas in Greek; Kydones had escorted Chrysoloras to his first trip in the West. Chrysoloras’ work Synkrisis tês palaias neas Romês (a letter known by the title De comparatione veteris et novae Romae = On the Comparison Between Rome and Constantinople) that was designed to foster good relations between the East and the West shows Chrysoloras’ position. He wrote on the Graeco-Roman origins of Byzantium: ‘‘two were the most powerful and wise nations. . . Romans and Greeks who by joining up they made Constantinople’’; he was translating in these terms Manuel Palaiologos’ politics of reconciliation with the West. His recently published Discourse Addressed to the Emperor Manuel II Palaiologos is more revealing as to Chrysoloras’ philosophy of education: he states there his faith in the value of Greek Paideia, its great importance if the Byzantines were to ensure the safety and the well-being of their country and his confidence in his homeland’s autarky as to the quality of its scholars. In the same discourse, he develops the idea of natural virtue to which the education is complementary. Although Chrysoloras’ impact on the Italian intellec- tual scene is certain and most of his pupils were ready to acknowledge his influence, only Guarino da Verona showed a life-long devotion to him. The later praise of Chrysoloras by the Humanists never reached the enthusi- asm and this is due to the fact that in the meantime the Italian scholars discovered the value of Latinity and were progressively feeling more assured as to their knowledge of Greek Letters. See also: ▶ Demetrios Kydones Bibliography Primary Sources Crisolora Manuele (2000) Confronto tra l’Antica e la Nuova Roma. In: Cristina B (ed) Medioevo Greco, numero ‘zero,’ pp 1–26 Crisolora Manuele (2000) Roma parte del cielo. Confronto la Nuova Roma (intro: Maltese V; trans and note: Torino Patrinelis CG, Sofianos DZ (intro and ed) (2001) Manuel Chrysoloras and his discourse addressed to the emperor Manuel II Palaeologous. Research Center for Medieval and Modern Hellenism, Academy of Athens, Athens Secondary Sources Baxandall M (1965) Guarino, Pisanello and Manuel Chrysolora J Warburg Courtauld Inst 28:183–204 Cammelli G (1941) I dotti bizantini e le origini dell’umanesimo. I. Manuele Crisolora. Le Monnier, Firenze 712 M Marsilius of Inghen Great Schism, he left Paris for an unknown destination following his visit to Avignon. In 1386, he became the first rector of the University of Heidelberg, which he shaped substantially, serving as rector nine times in 1386–1392 and 1396. In Heidelberg, he was a Master of Arts and student of theology, the study of which he had begun in Paris around 1366. He obtained his theological degree in 1395–1396, being the first theologian to earn a doctorate in Heidelberg. Soon afterwards, on August 20, 1396, the day of Saint Bernhard, he died and was buried in the Church of Saint Peter in the choir before the main altar. Regrettably, his grave no longer exists; however, both a small square next to the University and a Centre for Advanced Study carry his name. Soon after his death in 1396 he was labeled a ‘‘Nominalist’’ and bracketed together with William of Ockham and John Buridan. To be sure, however, he him- self never used this nor any other label to characterize his thought. At points he was even critical of Ockham and Buridan, although he shared their conviction that univer- sals were only names or concepts and that the object of knowledge was not the thing but the proposition that referred to the thing, hallmarks of late-medieval Nominalism. Since the early sixteenth century, historiography has considered Marsilius to be a pupil of Buridan, induced from the fact that Marsilius often referred his master, and even once remarked that he may have been guided by a passionate predisposition towards Modern research, however, seriously questions whether Marsilius was a pupil of Buridan, since the two belonged to different nations at the University of Paris. It appears that Marsilius was not educated by Buridan, even though he admired his teachings or writings. His teacher was in fact William Buser of Heusden, who, like Marsilius, belonged to the ‘‘natio anglicana.’’ That he referred to Buridan as his master, therefore, must be considered a mark of honor, as was not unusual at the time. Writings Marsilius’ writings were the product of a medieval aca- demic. Most important are (1) a collection of small logical treatises that deal with the properties of terms such as supposition and ampliation, and which later were referred to under the general title of Parva logicalia Marsilii; (2) several commentaries in various forms on the Logica vetus and the Logica nova; (3) commentaries on Aristotle’s physical treatises, such as the Physica, De caelo, De generatione et corruptione, De anima, and the Parva naturalia; (4) a commentary on Aristotle’s Ethica Nicomachea; (5) a commentary on Aristotle’s students. To refer to the universal use of a term or concept in phrases such as ‘‘Tree is a genus,’’ another traditional type of supposition, namely, suppositio materialis, would suffice, as this kind of supposition takes the term or concept as referring to itself. In the above phrase, it is the term or concept ‘‘tree’’ itself which signifies universally and therefore is a genus, and not something in the trees outside in the yard. In this connection, Marsilius explicitly criticized some of his contemporaries (he may have been thinking of Albert of Saxony), who, even if they did not accept the existence of real universals, still wished to retain the notion of suppositio simplex. They would say, like the old logi- cians, that the word or concept of ‘‘tree’’ in the given example has suppositio simplex, rather than suppositio materialis. Marsilius, however, saw no need to retain the vocabulary of the old logicians. The use of the term suppositio simplex was entirely arbitrary, he argued. There- fore, there was no reason not to replace it with suppositio materialis, which was moreover preferable, in that it avoided confusion. This celebrated passage has important historical sig- nificance, as here Marsilius linked the acceptance of real universals with the old logicians (antiqui) and their denial with the modern logicians (moderni). However, though tempting, his remarks cannot be regarded as an early example of the fifteenth-century ‘‘Wegestreit’’ between Antiqui and Moderni. The antiqui of whom Marsilius spoke were no contemporary Realists, but rather logicians from earlier generations, as evinced by the fact that he referred to them also by the term antiquitus, that is, from ancient times. Nevertheless, this passage reveals why the Realists of the fifteenth century who based themselves on these older logicians were labeled as Antiqui, even if they themselves were not from the old days. Aristotle, Natural Reason, Faith A second feature the reader will encounter at several points in Marsilius’ works, and which also foreshadows the ‘‘Wegestreit,’’ is the sharp distinction between faith and natural reason. This occurs not only in his theological works, but also and especially in his commentaries on Aristotle. At several places in these commentaries, Marsil- ius juxtaposes two different answers to one and the same problem, the one according to Aristotle and natural rea- son, and the other according to truth and faith. He leaves no doubt that for him truth and faith gives the right answer and should judge Aristotle and natural reason, not only in theology, but also in philosophy. Yet this does not prevent him from carefully setting out what should, according to natural reason, be regarded as 714 M Marsilius of Inghen accept the position of faith. It must indeed reject all of those views that would presuppose the existence of some- thing beyond sense perception and self-evident principles. To be sure, Marsilius did not defend the theory of double truth. For him there is only one truth, namely, that of faith, which partially, but not completely, covers the claims of natural reason. However, and this is crucial, natural reason cannot judge on its own whether that which it necessarily has to accept according to its own principles is also true. To do this, natural reason requires faith. Marsilius therefore maintained a position which was very different from that, for example, of Thomas Aquinas. According to Thomas, regarding any tenet of faith what- soever, natural reason can at least show that it is not impossible. For Marsilius, natural reason cannot do this. On the contrary, at crucial points it leads human reason in the opposite direction. In his commentaries on Aristotle, Marsilius does not discuss the background of this radical view. His commen- tary on the Sentences, however, provides a clue. As a consequence of the Fall, human reason is bound to the senses and can no longer by itself give a sound judgment of what is true. Its evidence is evidence of the bodily, fallen man, not that of the spiritual man assisted by divine grace. Marsilius defended his reading of Aristotle not only in Paris, but also in Heidelberg, as can be judged from his commentaries on the Metaphysics and the Sentences, both of which were composed in Heidelberg. Testifying to his influence as rector there, this interpretation of Aristotle found its way into the vows the masters were required to take at their inception. At most other universities, the master was obligated to refute, to the best of his ability, those of Aristotle’s opinions that were contrary to faith. However, in Heidelberg the situation was different. There, the master was required to tell students that in such cases, the position of Aristotle was based solely on natural reason and therefore was deficient, although his position could not be refuted, since using sense-perception and self- evident principles one must necessarily reach the same conclusion as Aristotle. This way of dealing with Aristotle was to become typical of late-medieval Nominalism, for which Marsilius was one of the main sources of inspiration. It provoked harsh criticism especially from the Thomists, who were of the opinion that, principally, there were no points on which Aristotle was against faith, provided that he was understood correctly which is to say, in the manner of Thomas Aquinas. Herein is rooted the historiographical myth that Nominalism destroyed medieval Scholasticism by questioning the harmony of faith and natural reason (Aristotle). he claims, one must argue according to natural reason and not according to faith. Applying the principles of natural reason to the concept of being, therefore, one must con- clude that it cannot be univocally said of substance and accidents, since both have a different kind of being. Mar- silius thus contrasts the common view with what he calls the ‘‘metaphysical’’ view. However, he makes clear that neither of these can be proven demonstratively, but are only probable. Nevertheless, the fact that he argues for the second view shows that in his mind the philosopher should not be distracted by the miracles of faith when there is no immediate necessity to do so. Indeed, whereas the eternity of the world and the limited power of God stand in direct opposition to the wording of the Creed, with the statement that there is no univocal concept of substances and accidents, this was not the case. For, as Marsilius states in his commentary on De generatione et corruptione, even if God miraculously changes substances, by virtue of his divine power he could do this in a such a way that the accidents would not remain without a bearer. Commentary on the Sentences, Multiple Sources, Eternity of the World When reading Marsilius of Inghen’s commentaries on Aris- totle, his personal views are not always clear. This is espe- cially the case when Marsilius applies both the solution of faith, which he calls the truth, and that according to natural reason, adding that the solution of faith should not bother the natural philosopher or metaphysician. Does this mean that, as a natural philosopher and metaphysician, Marsilius asserted solutions which he knew were not true? However it may be, in his theological works, and in particular in his commentary on the Sentences, things were different. Here we find the most elaborate exposition of his ideas, both philosophical and theological. Even if his commentary on the Sentences was a theological work, he discusses in it a whole range of philosophical issues also dealt with in his other works, including the eternity of the world and God’s infinite power. In this work, Marsilius attributes a crucial role to natural reason in explaining matters of faith, but thinks that its role is only partial, since it uses principles different from those of faith. Only if natural reason accepts the principles of faith for example, that things can be created from nothing can it clarify issues of faith. The commentary on the Sentences is an enormous work that discusses all four books of Lombard’s original work and covers more than a thousand narrowly-printed pages in the edition of 1501. Marsilius most likely began preparation for this work in Paris in the late 1360s and early 1370s, leaving the work unfinished when he died in Heidelberg. Striking is the wide range of sources he used to 716 M Marsilius of Inghen thinking of authors like Thomas Aquinas, but surely not Marsilius of Inghen. Influence Marsilius had a substantial impact on the late-medieval and early-modern period. His works were read at many universities with a Nominalist signature, or inalism was taught next to Realism. In Vienna and Frei- burg, his Parva logicalia were compulsory. On the title page of the Modernorum summulae of Florentius Diel, printed in Mainz about 1490, he was mentioned in one breath with Aristotle, Augustine, and Boethius. Ockham, Albert of Saxony, or Buridan were mentioned in this prominent place. Marsilius’ commentaries totle were used in classrooms of Heidelberg, Vienna, Frei- burg, and Prague, as can be concluded from the colophons in the manuscripts and the protocols of the Arts faculties. His commentary on the Sentences, edited by Jacob Wympfeling and printed by Martinus Flach in 1501, was quoted by Spanish theologians like Domino de Soto, Luis de Molina, and Francisco Suárez. Exemplary of Marsilius’ strong influence is a booklet published in 1499 by Peter Friedberg in Mainz, commemorating his birthday. This booklet is notable for containing a fictitious speech of Marsilius defending Nominalism and answering the attacks of Realism. One of the main points was a quotation from John Gerson, saying that the Council of Constance had condemned the thesis that there universals in the extramental world. Noteworthy was the humanist form of the treatise. It contained more than fifty epigrams by students and masters singing the praises of their divine Master Marsilius. Obviously, the humanists in Heidelberg and Mainz advocated the Nominalism coined by Marsilius even a century after his death. See also: ▶ Albert of Saxony ▶ Aristotle, Arabic: Physics ▶ De generatione et corruptione, Commentaries on Aristotle’s ▶ Impetus ▶ John Buridan ▶ Natural Philoso- phy ▶ Parva naturalia, Commentaries on Aristotle’ ▶ Realism ▶ Supposition Theory ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ Universals ▶ William of Ockham Bibliography Primary Sources (1499) Ad illustrissimum Bavariae ducem Philippum comitem Rheni Palatinum et ad nobilissimos filios epistola. Marsilius de Inghen (1501) Quaestiones super quattuor libros Sententiarum. Martinus Flach, Strasbourg Main, 1966) Marsilius de Inghen (1505) Quaestiones in libros corruptione. Gregorius de Gregoriis, Venice furt Main, 1970) Ritter G (1921) Studien zur Spätscholastik I: Marsilius die okkamistische Schule in Deutschland. Winter, Wielgus S (ed) (1993) Marsilius von Inghen. Werk und des Zweiten Internationalen Marsilius-von-Inghen-Kongr Wydawn KUL, Lublin (contains partial editions of works of Marsilius) Marsilius of Padua VASILEIOS SYROS The Martin Marty Center for the Advanced Study of Religion The University of Chicago Chicago, IL USA Abstract Marsilius of Padua (1270/1290–1342) was a seminal late medieval political thinker. In 1313 Marsilius went to Paris to study medicine. During his stay in the French capital, he befriended John of Jandun, a leading commentator of Aristotle and adherent of many of Averroes’ positions. In 1324 Marsilius published his magnum opus, the Defensor pacis (Defender of the Peace), a work containing a fierce attack on papal interference in temporal affairs. In 1326, Marsilius and John, who was considered the coauthor of the Defensor pacis, fled to Louis of Bavaria’s court. In 1327 John XXII issued the bull Licet iuxta doctrinam, in which he condemned Marsilius and John for heresy. In the same year, Marsilius and John joined Louis’ expedition to Italy. After the failure of the expedition, Marsilius returned to Germany, where he spent the remainder of his life at Louis’ court. Marsilius’ professed goal in the Defensor pacis is to reveal a singular cause of civil strife, that is, the papacy’s involvement in temporal affairs. The first part is to a large extent a patchwork of quotations from Aristotle’s works, in particular the Politics. Marsilius artic- ulates there a scheme of political organization with ulti- mate power for making laws and appointing the government residing with the ‘‘legislator humanus,’’ that is, the entire body of the citizens or its ‘‘weightier’’ part (‘‘pars valentior’’). In the second part of the treatise Marsilius argues for the community of the faithful being the highest authority within the Church and possessing the power to appoint and monitor the clerics and to interpret Scripture. In the thorny issue of papal-imperial relations, Marsilius is an advocate of the pope’s and the general council’s, being subject to the emperor. Marsilius takes up a number of these issues in the Defensor 718 M Marsilius of Padua In 1327 John XXII issued the bull Licet iuxta doctrinam, in which he condemned Marsilius and John, as the authors of the Defensor pacis, for heresy. As noted before, John was considered both in the Middle Ages as well as in earlier modern scholarship coauthor of the Defensor pacis (Valois 1906). However, between the political teaching of the Defensor pacis and John’s political ideas, as pieced together from his commentaries on Aristotle, there exist crucial differences with regard to, for example, the purpose and the unity of the political community and the notions of the lawgiver, natural law, world monarchy, and natural slavery (Syros 2007; Gewirth 1948, 1951). In 1327, Marsilius and John joined Ludwig’s expedi- tion in Italy. Marsilius was appointed iudex clericorum et amministrator archiepiscopatus Mediolani in temporalibus pro regia maiestate in Milan. It is possible that he had a hand in organizing Louis coronation in Rome in 1328, the deposing of John XXII, and his replacement by the Friar Minor, Peter of Corbara, who was elected pope as Nicholas V. In 1328, Louis and his army returned to Germany. Marsilius spent the remainder of his life at Ludwig’s court in Munich. Around 1342 he wrote the Defensor minor as well as a memorandum dealing with the legitimacy of the marriage between Margaret Maultasch, countess of Tyrol and Carinthia, and Louis son, Louis of Brandenburg. In 1342 Pope Clement VI mentioned that Marsilius was dead. The Defensor pacis was also intensively used during the Great Schism. Its editio princeps appeared in 1522 in Basel (Piaia 1977). In 1535 Thomas Cromwell sponsored its translation into English, although the English version exhibits a number of excisions (Simonetta 2000). Political Ideas The Defensor pacis is divided into three parts: in the first part Marsilius expounds the chief principles of his polit- ical thought by drawing on various treatises of Aristotle, most notably the Politics, and inquires into the origins and the nature of a well-ordered political community. In the second part, which is about four times longer than the first, he discusses and refutes a number of claims in favor of the church’s possessing temporal authority. The third part contains a summary of the main arguments of the entire work in the form of forty-two conclusions. As short as the first part of the Defensor pacis may be, its interpre- tation poses several difficulties. Marsilius’ intensive use of the Politics has led to the conclusion that he chose the Politics as an authoritative basis for articulating his own ideas (Sternberger 1985). Yet, a closer comparison between the political ideas of Marsilius and of his Greek component of the political community, Marsilius deviates from Aristotle, according to whom farmers and craftsmen are to be excluded from any healthy form of constitution. In his classification of constitutions, Marsilius adopts the Aristotelian criteria of the number of those governing and of the extent to which a constitution takes into account and advances the common good. To these he adds a third one, that is, the degree to which a constitution comes into being and exists in accordance with the consent of the citizens and the laws. Marsilius takes this criterion as a key condition for the legitimacy and longevity of any sort of government, and gives it primacy over the other two. In keeping with this, Marsilius, in his account of the different types of kingship, looks on elective kingship as the best one, and makes a strong case for the limitation of royal authority. In this regard, he departs from Aristotle’s notion of the absolute ruler who exceeds the other members of the political com- munity in virtue and political capacity and governs according to his will without laws. Marsilius’ notion of justice approximates Aristotle’s concept of corrective justice, whose task is to correct poten- tial excesses in the acts of the citizens and to bring them into equality. Consequently, Marsilius depicts the ruler as judge, whose function consists in repressing excesses and guaranteeing the due proportion of the acts of the citizens in conformity with the laws. Laws are not the product of a single lawgiver à l’Aristotle, such as Lycurgus or Solon, but of the collective prudence and experience of a number of people or even generations. The legislator humanus is the entire body of the citizens or the weightier part (pars valentior) that has to represent them. Marsilius draws on Aristotle’s doctrine of the collective wisdom of the multi- tude, according to which many people coming together can make better judgments than a small group of experts or wise men. Yet, although Aristotle’s theory applies to the appointment and correction of office holders, Marsilius extends its validity to legislation and regards the entire body of the citizens as the sole legitimate source of legis- lative and governmental authority within the political community. This model exhibits certain affinities to the organization of the city-states of medieval Italy, in which ultimate authority resided with the council of the citizens and the appointment of the podestà and the other office holders and the preparation of drafts of laws was entrusted to committees that acted on its behalf. The Marsilian view of the exemplary prince is pre- mised on the medieval notion of the ruler as judge and guarantor of justice. In enumerating the ruler’s virtues and attributes, Marsilius relies on Aristotle’s account of the qualifications requisite in the possessors of the highest 720 M Marston, Roger With regard to the relations between the emperor and the pope, Marsilius argues that the pope and the cil are subject to the power of the emperor that the sover- eign pontiff receives power over other men only with the permission of the emperor. Marsilius expatiates on these issues in the Defensor minor, which is a sort of epitome of the chief principles of Marsilius’ political forth in Defensor pacis. At the outset of that work, Marsil- ius explicates the term iurisdictio and, afterwards, denies the coercive power of the clergy. Large portions of this work deal with questions of excommunication and the plenitudo potestatis. Marsilius’ ideas on the precedence of temporal over spiritual power animated scholarly debates on the repub- lican or imperialist interpretation of Marsilius’ political thought. Marsilius’ views on the superiority of emperor to the pope served to underpin an ‘‘imperialist’’ the Defensor pacis, which found its strongest advocate in Quillet 1970. A number of scholars, on the other hand, saw Marsilius as an ardent apologist of republican ideas and have related his political theory to the political realities that prevailed in late medieval Italy (Gewirth 1979; Skinner 1978; Syros 2007; cf. also the discussion in Nederman, 1995b). See also: ▶ Ibn Rushd, Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Hafı̄d ˙ ˙ (Averroes) ▶ John of Jandun ▶ Political Aristotelianism ▶ Political Philosophy ▶ William of Ockham Bibliography Primary Sources Marsiglio of Padua (1993) In: Nederman CJ (ed) Defensor minor and De translatione imperii. Press, Cambridge Marsile de Padoue (1979) Œuvres mineures: Defensor translatione imperii, texte établi, trad. J. Quillet. CNRS, Paris Marsilius of Padua (2005) In: Brett A (ed and Peace. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge Marsilius von Padua (1932) In: Scholz R (ed) (= Monumenta Germaniae historica: Fontes in usum scholarum separatim editi; 7) Hahn, Secondary Sources Brenet JB (2003) Transferts du sujet. La noétique Jandun. Libraire Philosophique Vrin, Paris Gewirth A (1948) John of Jandun and the Defensor Pacis. Speculum 23:267–272 Gewirth A (1951, 1956) Marsilius of Padua and Philosophy, 2nd edn. Columbia University Press, New York Gewirth A (1979) Republicanism and Absolutism Marsilius of Padua. Medioevo 5:23–48 MacClintock S (1956) Perversity and Error: Studies John of Jandun. Indiana University Press, Bloomington Wittenberg in Electoral Saxony, preacher and pastor, pro- lific author in both German and Latin, former Augustin- ian monk, and excommunicated by the papacy in 1521. His best known political doctrines are the Zwei Reiche/ Regimente Lehre (Two Kingdoms and/or Two Govern- ments); political obedience and hostility to rebellion and millennialism; endorsement of princely ‘‘absolutism’’; the territorial ‘‘prince’s church’’ (landesherrliches Kirchenregiment). Slightly less well known are his opposi- tion to usury, his anti-Jewish attitudes, his very ‘‘secular’’ interpretation of marriage and divorce, his doctrine of the three estates (the military, economic, and ecclesiastical), his ‘‘congregational’’ tendencies in church government, and his belief that his was the ‘‘end-time’’ when Satan and Anti-Christ ruled the world. His principal political doctrines were not unfamiliar; they resemble Augustine’s conception of the two civitates, the medieval ‘‘two swords’’ controversy, and conventional doctrines of obedience and good order of his time. Luther, moreover, set out his political ideas in pamphlets prompted by specific emer- gencies, and never consolidated them in a definitive text. Some interpreters see them as an expression of ‘‘social conservatism’’ rather than as inferences from his theology. Luther’s personal and pastoral concerns from the first centered on the right understanding of how the Christian is saved (or ‘‘justified,’’ accounted or rendered just). They gained a Europe-wide reception from 1517 in the contro- versy over indulgences, a practice that for Luther symbol- ized the pernicious misrepresentations of true doctrine afflicting Christianity. The main themes of his theology were salvation by God’s grace alone, experienced in faith (sola fide), and rejection of what he regarded as the received doctrine of the ‘‘sophists’’ (the scholastic theolo- gians) that salvation was a reward ‘‘merited’’ (earned) by ‘‘good works.’’ For Luther, good works, which to be truly good must be done freely and not out of self-interest or fear, are the product and not the cause of justification (On Good Works, 1520). A right understanding of Scripture thus frees Christians from trying to achieve salvation by their own efforts, an impossible burden imposed by the ‘‘tyranny’’ of Rome. Even God’s law is no longer a coercive, external imposition for Christians but is obeyed freely and willingly. All this Luther summarized as ‘‘Christian lib- erty.’’ He regarded Scripture alone (sola scriptura) as the source for these teachings, especially its ‘‘core,’’ Epistles, St John’s Gospel and the First Letter of St Peter. Its authority is unconditional, irrespective of traditions and popes, although Luther acknowledged the value of the church fathers, especially Augustine, and works such as Tauler’s Theologia Deutsch. The Christian must 722 M Martin Luther, Political Thought ‘‘worldly’’ (weltlich). The two have petences and instruments of rule. The spiritual Reich is the invisible community of all true Christians, governed by God through Christ and the Word alone. Its members neither need nor use the protection of law or the sword (Luther’s symbol for coercive, secular government) for themselves, since they do not resist evil and expect no advantage or protection from rulers. The worldly or temporal Reich is composed of those not justified in the sight of God. They would tear each other apart, but for the fact that secular government coerces them into behaving in a purely ‘‘exter- nally just’’ manner by means of laws and punishments. Insofar as no Christian is a perfect Christian in this life, they too require the law and secular government. Secular government is thus a divine institution, which also protects true Christians, since they voluntarily do what is right – Luther assumed that legal and moral obligations were much the same – and are therefore obedient subjects. Christians may also exercise temporal authority themselves, out of love for their neighbor, even if that love means extreme harshness. This was the case when Luther subsequently exhorted rulers to show no mercy to the rebellious peasants in his Against the Murderous, Thieving Hordes of Peasants of 1525. However, when rulers command what is incom- patible with the will of God, Christians may not obey but may not rebel either: they must disobey and suffer. How- ever, the Lutheran justification of political Magdeburg Confession of 1550 has a basis in some highly circumstantial concessions in terms of the right defense by Luther himself (Warning to His Dear German People, 1531). He had little regard for secular lawyers, none at all for canon law. Even though the Refor- mation was mainly urban, he had no interest in republican institutions or questions of the best political form; his instincts were monarchical and he normally simply equated secular authority and ‘‘princes’’ theology of spirit versus letter tended to minimize the significance of ‘‘externals’’ and ‘‘forms’’ The ‘‘true church’’ cannot be a this-worldly institu- tion, since the true Christians that alone compose it can- not be known. All the same, Luther treated it as a template for the ‘‘physical’’ or ‘‘external’’ tional church) as a voluntary association of governed only by Christ, Scripture, and the moral author- ity of pastors which it chose itself, complete with schools and provision for the poor (see Right and Power of a Christian Assembly, 1523). Secular rulers have (according to this version) no role whatever in bringing justice or true faith, contrary to what he taught in his Appeal and subsequently. In practice he endorsed an eccle- siastical order in which political subjection and religious Martin of Dacia LIDIA LANZA Fribourg Switzerland Abstract Martin of Dacia, Danish Master of Arts and theologian of the last quarter of the thirteenth century, attempted to establish a new grammar that could be considered as an autonomous science. This grammar would be universal and grounded on ontological reality, its aim being the study of the properties of language. Martin of Dacia was a Danish Master of Arts and theology at the University of Paris. What is known about his life and intellectual activity can be summarized as follows: he was active as a university teacher and wrote his works before 1287–1288, when he became Chancellor to the Danish King Erik VI Menved, whom he served for the rest of his life. A canon first in Paris, he obtained the same office at Roskilde, Lund, and Slevig, as a reward for services rendered to the King. He died in 1304. Martin is the author of a grammatical work and logical commentaries. The former, the De modis significandi, includes two parts, of which the first, on the parts of discourse (Etymologia), leads on to the second part, on syntactic analysis (Dyasynthetica). In this work Martin leaves aside two other sections, the Orthographia and the Prosodya, which deal with accents and syllables. These two sections, which were part of the traditional writings on grammar, were usually placed before the sections of Etymologia and Dyasynthetica. Martin’s De modis significandi was very well known and influential, judging by the number of manuscripts in which it survives and the many references to it by later grammarians. It became so important that several authors wrote commentaries on it in the following decades. As for Martin’s logical work, it consists of a set of questions on the old logic (logica vetus), that is Aristotle’s Categories and De interpretatione, the Isagoge of Porphyry, Gilbert of Poitiers’ Liber sex principiorum, and Boethius’ commentary on Aristotle’s Topics. His logical work is extant in only one manuscript (Erlangen, Universitätsbibliothek 213, ff. 102ra–129vb), which suggests that it was much less widely distributed than the De modis significandi. Scholarship has paid little attention to this part of Martin’s production; exceptions are the studies on some questions on Aristotle’s Categories and De interpretatione (Marmo 1994). 724 M Martin of Dacia particular language are grounded. The difference between the diverse languages consists in the different way through which each language forms its vocal expression (vox). This fits into the domain of the accident and thus involves a devaluation of the level of vocal expression; yet, because the vox is a sign of the thing which must be signified, and given that is more proper (habilius signum) than other signs such as a nod or a glance, grammar includes it, though only as an accident, as it falls more properly under the realm of natural philosophy. This view was followed by John of Dacia, but not by other modistae, such as Boethius of Dacia. A further reason to assert grammar’s universality, which allows an understanding of the underlying connec- tion between the grammatical–logical level and the epistemological–ontological one, is that ‘‘modes of signi- fying’’ reflect corresponding ‘‘modes essendi) of some existing entity through the mediation of an intellectual act, which understands and conceptualizes it, giving rise to the corresponding ‘‘modes of understand- ing’’ (modi intelligendi). This, along with the Aristotelian characterization of the intellect in the act of knowing as a passive faculty, justifies the claim of grammar to be a science by rooting its object in reality: each thing has its properties or ‘‘modes of being’’ that determine the corresponding modes in which it can be understood (modi intelligendi), while the ways in which the intellect conceptualizes it determine the modes of signifying (modi significandi). Martin is clear on how this process is achieved, though he left some unresolved problems for the succeeding modistae: the ‘‘modes of from the ‘‘modes of understanding’’ as from their imme- diate cause and from the properties of things, the ‘‘modes of being’’, as from an indirect cause, as this is made through the mediation of the intellect. This narrow deriv- ative chain provides a grammar well anchored in reality, which avoids the risk of setting up intellectual attributing arbitrariness to the object; yet it raises further problems, as in the case of empty or privative names such as ‘‘nothing’’ or ‘‘blindness’’, fictitious beings, such as ‘‘chimera’’. between the three kinds of modes is conceived as a narrow chain, there is no answer to the question as to the derivation from ‘‘modes of being’’ in the case of an object that does not exist in reality or without the prop- erties denoted by its ‘‘modes of signifying’’. the main points that Boethius of Dacia and the modistae attempted to solve (see the entry on Radulphus Brito in this volume). Their solutions are varied, but they all departed from Martin by rendering more complex the Kelly LG (2002) The mirror of grammar. Theology, philosophy and the ‘modistae’. John Benjamins, Amsterdam Lamacchia A (1969) I modi significandi di Martino libéraux et philosophie au Moyen Âge. Actes International de Philosophie Médiévale, Université Canada, 27 août – 2 septembre 1967. Institut J. Vrin, Montréal/Paris, pp 913–921 Maierù A (1986) La grammatica speculativa. In: Leonardi G (eds) Aspetti della letteratura latina nel primo Convegno Internazionale di studi dell’Associazione Medioevo e l’Umanesimo Latini (AMUL), Perugia, 3–5 ottobre 1983. Regione dell’Umbria/La Nuova Italia, Perugia/Firenze, pp 147–168 Marmo C (1992) La teoria delle relazioni nei commenti Gentile da Cingoli a Matteo da Gubbio. In: Buzzetti Tabarroni A (eds) L’insegnamento della logica secolo. Istituto per la Storia dell’Università pp 353–391 Marmo C (1994) Semiotica e linguaggio nella Scolastica: Erfurt 1270–1330. La semiotica dei Modisti. per il Medio Evo, Roma Pinborg J (1967) Die Entwicklung der Sprachtheorie BGPTM = Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters, 42/2. Aschendorff, Münster West, pp 67–77 Roos H (1952) Die modi significandi des Martinus de Dacia. Forschungen zur Geschichte der Sprachlogik im Mittelalter. zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie Aschendorffsche/A. Frost-Hansen, Münster West/Copenh Rosier I (1983) La grammaire spéculative des Modistes. Presses Universitaires de Lille, Lille Rosier I (1994) La parole comme acte. Sur la grammaire du XIIIe siècle. Vrin, Paris Mathematics and Philosophy in the Arab World ANTONELLA STRAFACE Facoltà di Lingue e Letterature Straniere Università degli Studi di Napoli L’Orientale Napoli Italy Abstract In the Arab world, the real cultivation of science and philosophy in the form of academic disciplines began in the second/eight century, after the period of the great conquests, as a result of the translation movement that was fostered by the ʿAbbāsids of Baghdad. The ‘‘translation’’ Arabic of the scientific and philosophical knowledge of the Ancients (Greeks, Persians, and Indians) was not uncriti- cal, as the necessity (for religious reasons) of synthesizing this cultural heritage and the Islamic religious thought led 726 M Mathematics and Philosophy in hand, the necessity (for religious reasons) of synthesizing the heritage of the Ancients and the Islamic religious thought led to the foundation of a gnoseological itinerary, the final aim of which was God. It was on the basis of this purpose that the recovery of the ancient knowledge and the study of all disciplines, both philosophical and scientific, were justified. In this regard, it is worth noting that the ‘‘curriculum’’ of the school of Baghdad was inspired by Greek sources, although it also included Islamic sciences such as law (fiqh) and theology (kalām). With regard to scientific disciplines, the Arab scholars generally used to present science as a branch of philoso- phy, so that al-Kindı̄ (801–873), in defining the epistemic position of science within the philosophical knowledge, maintained that the process of inquiry into the nature of science was the same as that which is used to inquire into the nature of philosophical knowledge. In turn, science was generally distinguished into two main groups: mathematical sciences (al-‘ulūm al-riyādiyya) and natural sciences (al-‘ulūm ˙ Mathematical sciences included arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. Like the other disciplines studied by the Arabs, also the mathematical sciences, which developed in Baghdad around the third/ninth century, experienced remarkable progress, thanks to the translations of Greek texts into Arabic; the translation of Euclid’s Elements by al-Hajjāj seems to go back to the fifth ʿAbbāsids Caliph Hārun al-Rashı̄d (786–809), who encouraged this kind of trans- lations. His son, al-Ma’mūn (809–833), who succeeded to him in the caliphate, encouraged learning even more strongly than his father. To this aim, he founded in Bagh- dad a centre for translation and research: the House of Wisdom (Bayt al-h: ikma). The most important Greek mathematical texts that were translated are Euclid’s works, including, besides Elements, the Data, the Optics, the Phaenomena, and On Divisions. As far Archimedes, although among his works only two texts seem to have been translated, that is, Sphere and Cylinder and Measurement of the Circle, their influence was remarkable, since they stimulated original researches. Instead, almost all of Apollonius’ works were translated, as well as Diophantus’ Arithmetica and Menelaus’ Sphaerica. The development of mathematics was also encouraged by the necessity of respecting religious prescriptions: the duty of observing the holy days, and the related ritual practices, represented a stimulus for the study of astronomy. On the other hand, the need of applying the Islamic law to some situations concerning problems of inheritance, dowry, or to verify the theories explained by Ptolemy in his Almagest and to improve the astronomical tools. Historical sources also report of private observatories. Particular attention deserves the private observatory of the Banū Mūsā who, besides being important translators in the Bayt al-Hikma, ˙ completed, from 840 to 869, some studies about the sun and the fixed stars. The Shı̄ʿite Persian dynasty of the Buyids, too, encouraged several astronomical projects in Persia where they founded permanent observatories equipped with sophisticated instruments. From one of these observatories, the astronomer ‘Abd al-Rah: mān al-Sūfı̄ (903–986), the author of The Book of the Fixed Stars, began the measurement of the ecliptic in the presence of several astronomers, as referred by the versatile scholar al-Birūnı̄ (973–1048). The Buyid ‘Adūd al-Dawla ˙ (936–983), when he became the governor of Baghdad, founded in the garden of his house a building, which Ibn al-Qiftı̄ (1172–1248) called Bayt al-ras:ad (the house of the ˙ astronomical observation), to promote a program of observation of the planets. As for philosophy, it played a fundamental role not only in the process of absorption and synthesis of ‘‘foreign’’ sciences and the formation of the Islamic ones, but also in the cultivation and the development of sciences in general, to the extent that this process would have been impossible without the contribution of the falsafa or h: ikma. As a matter of fact, the term h: akı̄m was used to denote a physician, a scientist, as well as a philosopher. With regard to its definition, the Arabs used two terms to translate the Greek word ‘‘philosophy’’: falsafa and h: ikma. Falsafa, a calque from Greek, was understood according to its original meaning, which the Arabs per- fectly knew, of h: ubb al-maʿrifa (love for knowledge). As for its function, al-Kindı̄, one of the first philosophers of the Arab world (and of Arab origin), interpreted philosophy as the knowledge of the reality of things according to human possibility. Since this kind of knowledge is both theoretical and practical, falsafa has a double aim: to reach the truth and to behave in accordance with this truth. Starting from this definition, some philosophers like al- Fārābı̄ (870–950) drew a distinction between falsafa yaqı̄niyya and falsafa maznūna; the first was based on ˙ demonstration (burhān) while the second, deriving from opinion, was based on dialectics. On the other hand, h: ikma, a Qurʾānic term that occurs 20 times in the Sacred Book and appears in the Hadı̄th ˙ literature too, had several meanings. The majority of Muslim authorities, who debated its exact meaning in the Qurʾān as well as in the Tradition, identified it with theology (kalām), as well as with the ‘‘intellectual 728 M Mathematics and Philosophy in the theology; nevertheless, philosophy, although it was interpreted as theosophy sometimes connected to illumi- nation or gnosis, did not disdain the use of rational thought. So, philosophy in the Arab world, even when interpreted as ‘‘Greek philosophy,’’ did not concern Greek doctrines only, insofar as it developed a system of rational thought which made use of analysis, logic, and rational inquiry. If these philosophical tools were adopted and developed by different Islamic sciences (grammar, rhetoric, classification of tradition, geometry, arithmetic, etc.), on the other hand, philosophy would also give the Arabs the appropriate intellectual background, which enabled them to encounter other civilizations and cultures and to integrate the Arabic (Islamic) heritage into the new ideas they came in contact with. A paradigm of this is the emanatistic solution proposed by al-Fārābı̄ and Ibn Sı̄nā who, establishing logical foundations of science, influenced the subsequent history of Islamic sciences and philosophy. Regarding the role of science and its relationship with philosophy–theology, it is worth noting that jurists as well as theologians generally maintained that science, in its general acceptance, was useful in order to understand and implement the divine law. As for mathematical sciences, the theologian al-Ġazālı̄ (1005–1111), to men- tion the most representative thinker, did not attribute to them any function in spiritual and metaphysical mat- ters. On the other hand, the Ikhwān al-Safā’ praised ˙ Pythagoras not only because he was considered ‘‘a wise man’’ but also because the Pythagorean doctrine, unlike other doctrines on number, considered existing things as ruled by the nature of numbers, the knowledge of which here implies the knowledge of their origin. On this assumption, the authors of the most ancient encyclope- dia of the Arab world known so far, the Rasā’il Ikhwān al-Safā’wa-Khullān al-Wafā’ (The Epistles ˙ Purity and the Loyal Friends), made the arithmetic a part of the propaedeutic disciplines; for this reason they started their Rasā’il with the epistle on number. In particular, in two of the 52 epistles of the Rasā’il (namely the 32nd and the 33rd, which belong to the third section of the encyclo- pedia), they argued that the knowledge of numbers equals the knowledge of God, since the origin of numbers from the ‘‘one’’ represented a way to prove the origin of the universe from God. Moreover, echoing the Pythagorean doctrine, the Ikhwān al-Safā’ compared the number one to ˙ God; just as the number one is not similar to the other numbers, although it is the origin of numbers, God is not similar to His creatures although He is the Creator of the universe. In this respect, Pythagoras could be considered a ‘‘monotheist.’’ Finally, the way in which numbers come of Sadr al-Dı̄n al-Shı̄rāzı̄ (d. 1640) known the founder of the so-called ‘‘transcendent theosophy’’ (h: ikma mutaʿāliyya). His idea of an ‘‘existence essence,’’ which goes back to Ibn Sı̄nā and Suhrawardı̄, made the transition from essentialism to the existential- ism possible. Moreover, in dividing the way to knowledge into four parts (metaphysics, physics, theology, and psy- chology), he gave a further demonstration of the intrinsic unity between philosophy and science in general. See also: ▶ Aristotle, Arabic ▶ Essence and Existence ▶ al-Fārābı̄, Abū Nasr ▶ al-Ġazālı̄, Abū Hāmid ˙ ˙ Muh: ammad ▶ Ibn Bājja, Abū Bakr ibn al-Sāʾiġ (Avempace) ▶ Ibn Rushd, Muhammad ibn Ahmad ˙ al-Hafı̄d (Averroes) ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ (Avicenna) ˙ ▶ Ikhwān al-Safāʾ, Encyclopedia of ▶ Ismāʿı̄lı̄ ˙ ical Tradition ▶ al-Kindı̄, Abū Yūsuf Yaʿqūb ibn Ish: āq ▶ Medicine and Philosophy ▶ Plato, Arabic ▶ Thābit ibn Qurra ▶ Translations from Greek into Arabic Bibliography Primary Sources Translations This selected bibliography includes only the works with the relationship between mathematics and philosophy. For detailed references to specific aspects of both mathematics and philosophy, see Index Islamicus, ed. Bleany CH, Leiden 1966, under their respective sections Secondary Sources Studies and Sources Bakar O (1991) Tawhı̄d and science: essays on the of Islamic science. Secretariat for Islamic Philosophy and Science, Kuala Lumpur/Penang Bakar O (1992) Classification of knowledge in Islam: philosophies of science. Secretariat for Islamic Science, Kuala Lumpur Burnett C (2002) Arabic science and philosophy. Bull Philos Médiév 44:19–22 Djebbar A (2005) Mathématiques et philosophie en of Heritage (Ayene-ye Miras) – Ayin-i Mirath Endress G (2003) Mathematics and philosophy in medieval enterprise of science in Islam: new perspectives, ed. Hogendijk JP, Sabra AI. MIT Press, Massachusetts, pp 121–176 Hourani GF (ed) (1975) Essays on Islamic philosophy and science. State university of New York Press, Albany, New York Montserrat A, Souto JA (coord) (2006) Ciencia y religion Revista de Ciencias de las Religiones, Aneyos Universidad Compultense de Madrid, Madrid Matter ▶ Form and Matter 730 M Maximos Planoudes Augustine refuted the ancient skeptics by the soul’s certain knowledge of its own existence. He defended the Augus- tinian theory of illumination in his epistemology, and defended the freedom of the will over the intellect. See also: ▶ Consciousness ▶ Intuitive and Abstractive Cognition ▶ John Duns Scotus ▶ Will ▶ William of Ockham Bibliography Primary Sources Matthew of Aquasparta (1956) Quaestiones disputatae rerum et de providentia, ed. Gál G. Bibliotheca Franciscana Scholastica Medii Aevi, 17. Quaracchi Matthew of Aquasparta (1957) Quaestiones disputatae de fide et cognitione, 2 vols. Bibliotheca Franciscana I. Quaracchi Matthew of Aquasparta (1959) Quaestiones disputatae separata, de anima beata, de ieiunio et G, Emmen A. Bibliotheca Franciscana Scholastica Quaracchi Secondary Sources Marrone P (1983) Matthew of Aquasparta, Henry Augustinian Epistemology after Bonaventure. 65:252–290 Putallaz F-X (1991) La connaissance de soi au d’Aquasparta à Thierry de Freiberg, 67. Vrin, Paris Maximos Planoudes GEORGE ZOGRAFIDIS Department of Philosophy Aristotle University of Thessaloniki Thessaloniki Greece Abstract Maximos Planoudes (1255–1305) was a Byzantine scholar and writer, an influential teacher, learned in many fields, a copyist and ‘‘editor’’ of numerous Greek texts, and a translator of Latin works. His efforts have enriched the manuscript tradition of a considerable part of Greek liter- ary and scientific production. He was the most eminent scholar of his time and probably the most productive Byzantine classical scholar. Planoudes was the first Byzan- tine with sufficient knowledge of Latin and of Latin cul- ture. He translated systematically theological and secular Latin works (among them Augustine’s On the Trinity and Planoudes was really a man of books, a devoted reader of the entire corpus of Greek literary and scientific texts, an owner of many codices, and a systematic copyist of numer- ous works with a constant concern to provide appropriate texts for himself and for his students. His scholarly achieve- ments cannot be underestimated though he was not an editor exactly in the modern sense. The main bulk of his writings were done for didactic purposes. He wrote gram- mar and syntax manuals and translated a Latin grammar. He edited and/or commented on Greek poetry, tragedy and comedy, and historiography. He reintroduced nine plays of Euripides, started an edition of Moralia of his favorite writer Plutarch (that was completed after his death), accomplished the voluminous Anthologia Planudea (1299, a version of the Greek Anthology), and compiled collections of various Greek texts. Planoudes’ extensive work contains also a corpus on rhetoric, encomia, canons, hymns, scientific writings, and translations of Latin texts. His extensive letter-writing (1292–1300) is a valuable source for the political and intellectual events of this period as well as for Planoudes’ life and personality. Thought During the Early Palaiologan period, a decisive (re)turn to the ancient Greek tradition took place, not for the first time in Byzantium. In spite of the economic and military decay of the empire, the Byzantines developed a vivid intellectual life. Many scholars seemed to find relief from the calamities of the present and from the uncertainty for the future by turning to what they considered as their glorious past and their natural heritage, that is, ancient Greek civilization. Without repudiating their Christian identity they were lovers of (pagan) antiquity that they had to rediscover for themselves. It was also the military and trade presence of the Catholic Westerns in the Orthodox East, and the possibility of the Church union, that made the Byzantines to realize the necessity to learn more about Latin/western civilization. In this context we can understand Planoudes’ project (a) to preserve as many ancient texts as he could, to write com- mentaries on them and treatises on all the sectors of higher education, and (b) to translate Latin works and offer, for the first time, a reliable access to the otherwise unknown intel- lectual Latin world. Planoudes probably taught philosophy but he did not write anything on Aristotle; he could use the textbooks on the Organon written by his contemporaries, George Pachymeres, Maximos Holobolos and John Pediasimos. As for Plato, he included excerpts of Platonic works in one of his collections and collaborated in the copying of a manuscript of Plato. Planoudes’ preferences are perhaps to be found in his choice to translate Cicero’s The Dream of 732 M Maximus the Confessor theologians; for instance, the hesychast Gregory Palamas made use of Planoudes’ translation. Few years translation Planoudes wrote two anti-Latin treatises about the procession of the Holy Spirit and then he decided to withdraw from such debates considering himself as a classical scholar and not as a theologian. Planoudes’ ethical-political views are they are expressed in his epistolography and in the On King that was addressed both to the young emperor Michael IX Palaiologan, few days after his coronation in 1294, and to his father Andronikos II. It is an idealized portrait of the emperor who should have all the classical virtues. Planoudes declared that their race (genos) is a ‘‘Roman’’ (Rhomaios) and exhibits a kind of patriotism common to the Byzantines after their liberation from the Latins and under the threat of the Ottomans. It is interesting that the monk Maximos is against pacifism when he considers circumstances of his country. He justifies the as it is a liberating war of the pious against who threatened the homeland and the faith of Rhomaioi. Planoudes gained his reputation as a teacher and a scholar. His work influenced Byzantine philosophers and thinkers like Metochites, Demetrius Kydones, Joseph Bryennios, and cardinal Bessarion. His teaching writings covered nearly every aspect of Byzantine learning and played a significant role during the Early Palaiologan Renaissance. Planoudes’ manuals were used for a long time and, translated into Latin, were used even by Italian human- ists. His meticulous efforts in finding, copying, ancient texts facilitated their use and helped the re- appreciation and the recovery of the Greek heritage by the Byzantines. Finally, his translations broadened the horizon of Byzantine thought through the approach of the Latin culture – a path that only few followed in See also: ▶ Augustine ▶ George Pachymeres phy, Byzantine Bibliography Primary Sources On King Westerink Leendert Gerrit (1966/1967/1968) Le Basilikos de Maxime Planude. Byzantinoslavica 27:98–103/28:54–67 Scholia on Boethius’ Consolation Papathomopoulos Manolis (ed) (1999) Scholia In: Boethius (1999) 109–116 – Megas Calculation According to the Indians Allard Andre (ed) (1981) Maxime Planude: Le Indiens. L’Université Catholique de Commentary on Diophantus of Alexandria Tannery Paul (ed) (1974) Diophanti Alexandrini Opera omnia: cum graecis commentariis, 2. Teubner, Stuttgart period. Maximus was a master synthesizer, who inter- weaved a wide range of philosophy and theology into a dynamic articulation of the divine mystery of Jesus Christ. Maximus’ theology, cosmology, ontology, and anthropology are all interpreted in the light of Jesus Christ and the Trinity. The Trinitarian relations provide the basis for an ontological movement that makes human divinization possible. Further, humanity acts as the medi- ator between this world and God on the basis of the hypostatic union in Jesus Christ. Creation becomes deified through participation; the cosmos receives through grace what belongs to God by nature. This present article begins with a brief summary of Maximus’ life and literary works. After the biographical account, this essay examines how Maximus recapitulates traditional concepts, such as hypostasis, idiomatum communicatio, and perichoresis in order to explicate a doctrine of Christ, which significantly shapes his anthropology and theology of creation. The Life of Maximus the Confessor There are two Lives of Maximus the Confessor (c. 580– 662). In the 1970s, Sebastian Brock published the Syriac Life of Maximus, which was written by Maximus’ contem- porary George of Reshaina. This Syriac Life offers an unflattering portrayal of Maximus. In this account, Maximus was conceived in an adulterous relationship between a Samaritan man and a Persian slave girl. On the contrary, the Greek Life of Saint Maximus, written in the tenth century by the Studite monk, Michael Exaboulites, asserts that Maximus was born into a noble family and received a good education. According to the Greek Life, Maximus became head of the Imperial Chan- cery under Emperor Heraclius. However, by 614, Maximus renounced his civil position and entered the monastery at Chrysopolis. Between 624/625, Maximus relocated to the monastery of Saint George at Cyzicus. During the Persian invasion of 626, Maximus left Saint George and fled south where he eventually settled at a Greek monastery in Carthage around 630. The monastery in Carthage served as the venue for the debate between Maximus and Pyrrhus, the exiled patri- arch of Constantinople. The debate, which occurred in 654, centered on the Monothelite proposition that subverted the Two Nature Christology of the Council of Chalcedon (451). Maximus opposed the Monothelite position because he supposed this proposition would imply that Christ was less than fully human. Before long, the debate extended beyond the monastery as eccle- sial and political authorities declared their theo- logical positions. Several African synods condemned Monothelitism. In October 649, Pope Martin 734 M Maximus the Confessor Maximus was thoroughly influenced by Neoplatonic thought. However, Maximus’ relationship to Origen of Alexandria remains an open question (Sherwood 1955; Balthasar 2003). Maximus developed his theology during the so-called Origenist controversy, which was escalating after Emperor Justinian’s condemnations against Origen. However, Maximus’ attitude toward Origen remains opaque. Maximus’ work has been interpreted as a synthesis of Origen’s theology, but the degree of interre- latedness is difficult to assess. Maximus’ doctrines often move beyond Origen and Neoplatonism. For example, Maximus’ concept of the eternal state of humanity involves an ongoing restful movement, whereas Origen stresses an absolute rest. Beyond Origen, Maximus was heavily influenced by the ‘‘scholastic’’ Aristotelianism of Leontius of Byzantium and Sophronius (patriarch of Jeru- salem) significantly influenced Maximus’ intellectual life. Furthermore, Maximus’ work is preoccupied with affirming the Councils (Nicea, Chalcedon, and Chalcedon II). Maximus’ Christology is articulated within the impe- rial philosophical circles of the late sixth and the seventh century. Maximus’ employment of philosophical terms, his mode of discourse, and the overall complexity of his thought are derived from this Neo-Chalcedonian intellec- tual environment. Maximus’ Christology While Origen influenced Maximus’ early thought on the Logos, Neo-Chalcedonian Christology was the starting point for his mature thought. In step with the Ecumenical Councils (Ephesus 431; Chalcedon 451), Maximus affirmed the Incarnation as a hypostatic union, where the human and divine natures coexist in the God–Man. The term hypostasis was one of the most controversial terms during the christological debates, which dominated Maximus’ life. For Maximus, the christological question was not merely an academic concern. Rather, Maximus as an ascetic understood that Christology impacted the spir- itual life and the entire cosmos. Christ’s hypostatic union provides the primordial synthesis that makes the deifica- tion of humanity possible. The person of Christ is the foundation and goal for all creation, which is moving toward perfection through participation. One of Maximus’ greatest achievements was his appropriation of philosophical terminology (such as hypostasis, communicatio idiomatum, and perichoresis), in order to advance a dynamic Christology, which reflected the Neo-Chalcedonian position. Maximus’ expli- cation of Christ’s hypostasis begins by drawing a parallelism within the human composite of body and between God and the world. All nature finds fulfillment in God, where the Logos brings unity out of diversity through movements of contraction and expansion. Maximus lived in a highly intellectual milieu, which may be characterized as ‘‘scholastic.’’ However, Maximus was neither rationalistic nor systematic; rather, he offers a mystical vision of the world as relating to the person of Jesus Christ. Maximus’ opaque spiritual theology points towards the mystery of the Incarnation. Maximus contin- ually pushed the boundaries of articulation outward into the darkness of mystery (Balthasar 2003). See also: ▶ Philosophical Theology, Byzantine ▶ phy, Byzantine ▶ Trinitarian Logic Bibliography Primary Sources Maximus the Confessor (1865) Complete works in Greek are located in Patrologia Graeca, vols 90–91. J.P. Migne, Paris Critical Editions of Maximus the Confessor Corpus Christianorum, Series Graeca (1990) Maximi Confessoris Quaestiones ad Thalassium II, Quaestiones LVI–LXV, una cum latina interpretatione Ioannis Scotae Eriugenae iuxta posita. Leuven University Press/Brepols,Turnhout (CCSG 22) Declerck José H (ed) (1990) Maximi Confessoris Quaestiones et Dubia. Leuven University Press/Brepols,Turnhout (CCSG 10) Laga Carl, Steel Carlos (eds) (1980) Quaestiones ad Maximi Confessoris Questiones ad Thalassium I, unam cum latina interpretatione Ioannis Scotae posita. Leuven University Press/Brepols,Turnhout van Deun Peter (ed) (1991) Maximi Confessoris Opuscula Leuven University Press/Brepols, Turnhout (CCSG 23) Other Series Ceresa-Gastaldo A (ed) (1963) Capituli sulla carità, introduzione, versione e note (Verba Seniorum, Select Translations English Berthold George C (trans and notes) (1985) Maximus writings. SPCK, London Dom Julian Stead (trans with commentary) (1982) The church, the liturgy and the soul of man: the mystagogia of St. Maximus Confes- sor. St. Bede’s, Still River Saint Maximus the Confessor (1955) The ascetic life. on charity (trans and annot: Sherwood P). Longmans, Green, Lon- don (ACW) French Maxime le Confesseur (1943) Centuries sur la charité. Introduction et traduction de Joseph Pegon, Paris-Editions de Cerf, Lyon Saint Maxime le Confesseur (1992) Questions à Thalassios J-C et trans and notes: Ponsoye E). Les Éditions Saint Maxime le Confesseur (1994) Ambigua (intro: Larchet J-C, preface, trans: Ponsoye E, comments: Staniloae D). Les Éditions, Paris- Suresnes German Maximus der Bekenner (1961a) All-eins in Christus. Auswahl, Uebertragung, Einleitung von Endre von Ivánka. 736 M Medicine and Philosophy autonomous medical discipline that distinguishes itself more neatly from natural philosophy and delineates its own goals and methods. Thus, at the birth of the Renais- sance, medicine loses its ambition of being a ‘‘second philosophy’’ but secures greater independence. From the time of Hippocrates, the proper relation between medicine and philosophy has been the subject of great debate. In simple terms, the central problem is whether medicine must appeal to philosophical principles to deter- mine the model of human nature that grounds the condi- tions of its practice, or whether it must be wholly autonomous and draw its knowledge solely from its exper- imental resources. In the first case, philosophy provides information on the elements that constitute human beings and thus situates them in a cosmology; in the second, doctors settle for perceptible information gathered empir- ically. In the Hippocratic corpus, we find two opposite answers: Ancient Medicine or Nature of Man states that the doctor does not need to rely on the principles of natural philosophy to establish its art, while for the treatise Regi- men (I.10), human beings are said to be ‘‘a copy of the whole.’’ Galen’s answer, in the second century CE, sets the context for subsequent medieval discussions. Indeed, he asserts in his That the Best Physician is Also a Philosopher that ‘‘if, then, philosophy is necessary to doctors with regard both to preliminary learning and to subsequent training, clearly all true doctors must be philosophers.’’ Galen insists, moreover, on the necessity, for the practi- tioner, of mastering the three parts of philosophy defined by the Stoics, namely, logic, physics, and ethics: the first to understand the science of demonstration, the second to have an understanding of nature in general, and finally the third to instill a contempt for wealth and the love of work. However, the links that Galen highlights between medi- cine and philosophy do not lead him to adopt a precise cosmology: on the contrary, he borrows as much from Plato as from Aristotle, for instance for the division of matter in four elements, and does not hesitate to contra- dict these authors on many important points. The result is a balanced synthesis, however fragile, between the most important ancient philosophers. Alexandrine Teaching and the Ancient Heritage This heritage is adopted and systematized by the authors of late Antiquity, and in particular by those active around the school of Alexandria, chief center for the teaching of traditional ancient Greek philosophy. One of the charac- teristics of this school is that medicine and philosophy are frequently, if not systematically, associated during the other passages from the Stagirite. Stephanus of Athens, iatrosophist from the sixth century, is equally cautious in his commentary on Hippocrates’ Prognostics when he addresses the question of the origin of sensation: enumer- ating the reasons that lead some to place it in the brain, and those that lead others to place it in the heart, he concludes his presentation of opposing arguments by a simple sentence: ‘‘The question remains unresolved up until now, whether the governing principle is situated in the brain or heart.’’ In this way, the authors of late Antiquity had provided a framework to the relation between philosophy and medicine, but without answering the essential problems the relation raises. By conquering the principal intellectual centers of Late Antiquity, like Alexandria, the Arabs integrated a large part of Greek science, in particular through translations carried out in the eighth and ninth centuries. Hence, it is not surprising that we find, in the first medical texts written in the language of the Qurʾān, the same categories and the same problems, than those that had preoccupied the iatrosophists. Thus, Yuh: anna ibn Masawayh (l. 777– 857), in the eighth aphorism of his Medical Axioms, declares that ‘‘when Galen and Aristotle agree upon some- thing, it is true; when they are in disagreement, it is exceedingly difficult for the mind to determine the truth of the matter.’’ Al-Majūsı̄ (d. at the end of the tenth century) represents the synthesis of these Alexandrine teachings revisited by the Arabic authors. In his al-Kitāb al-Malakı̄ (Royal Book), he takes up again the distinction between theory and practice, by specifying that the first is a science, that is, a true knowledge necessary for action. This science divides, in turn, into things that are natural, those that are nonnatural and those that are against nature. Though al-Majūsı̄ does not point it out, he is certain that this scientific part of medicine must tackle the problems posed by the correspondence between the two disciplines. For the rest, when he treats certain ques- tions concerning the connection between medicine and philosophy, he prefers to suspend judgment: thus, when he wonders if the soul that we find in the brain is the soul itself or if it is merely its instrument, since the soul is not a body, he prefers not to argue the point stating that it ‘‘belongs to philosophy more than to medical art.’’ The Systems of Arabic Authors The Instrumentalism of Avicenna However, from the tenth century, conflicts between Arabic philosophers and doctors intensify, and this attitude of avoidance seems no longer tenable. Certain scholars, often philosophers, devote themselves to finding a general 738 M Medicine and Philosophy ill-suited for attaining truth. Instrumentalism, in the work of Avicenna, goes hand in hand with a model of the doctor that confine him to the restoration of health without exploring the true nature of things, and merely studying sensible and manifest entities on which he can act. It is interesting to note that this position does not forbid doctors from being philosophers as well, like Avicenna was himself, because the important element is the expres- sion ‘‘as a doctor’’: in reality, a ask himself questions concerning the true nature of things; but he must then refrain from basing himself on medical empirical observation and, thus, to conduct himself as a doctor. We see that Avicenna establishes a neat distinc- tion between philosophy and medicine, each having its proper objectives and methods. Such a conclusion might seem to subordinate medicine to natural philosophy; reality, we must instead insist on the great autonomy conferred on a medical discipline that, while on a more restricted domain, can henceforth develop with fewer restrictions. Averroes and the Subordination of Medicine to Philosophy Averroes (1126–1198) pushes even further the distinction between medicine and natural philosophy. In his Colliget, one of his rare medical works, he defines the discipline thus: ‘‘Medicine is an effective art, based and concerned with preserving man’s health and abating disease, as far as possible’’ (Colliget, I, 1). Comparing medicine with navigation or military affairs, he states explicitly that the ‘‘true principles’’ established are those of natural philosophy. The two domains of knowledge are thus completely separate and placed in a clear and restrictive hierarchical relationship, since the doctor must, according to Averroes, deduce from the principles expounded by the philosopher the practical applications that he carries out. Where Avicenna affirms clearly the autonomy of medicine as a science, Averroes, who returns partially to al-Fārābı̄’s ing it, makes medicine into a simple practical application of philosophical theories. So, as a faithful Aristotelian, Averroes attacks Galen repeatedly, not hesitating to renounce established treat- ments for their theoretical incompatibility with natural philosophy, all the while trying to justify certain biological claims of the Stagirite. If we consider Avicenna’s an instru- mentalist position, we can rightly call Averroes’ own a realist position insofar as it insists on the coherence between philosophical theories and their concrete medical applications; the definition of the Colliget emphasizes the fact that medicine cannot even aim for complete recovery Bartholomew of Salerno (twelfth century) is in this regard emblematic: " The science of medicine deals with the actions and pas- sions of the elements in mixed bodies. Although it has been invented for the human body, it considers every thing that can change it, as the nature of animals, trees, spices, metals, stones, because all of them can change the human body. Medicine has, thus, for most Salernitans, a universal reach, which expresses itself in particular by the use of the term physicus, which designates the doctor-philosopher at Salerno. But the relation between medicine and philosophy goes even further than this connection established between medicine and natural philosophy. Indeed, the Salernitan and the authors of the twelfth century, such as William of Conches, could not know the zoological works of Aristotle, which had not yet been translated; so they strive, from available texts such as the Physics, On Gener- ation and Corruption but also from the commentary of Plato’s Timeus by Calcidius, to reconstitute a natural phi- losophy coherent with medical data, in a process that reverses the trend that had until then dominated. This trend ends with doctor Urso of Salerno, who dies around 1200. The latter strives to connect, in one systematic theory, the contributions of medicine and natural philosophy. His thought develops around the question of the elements: Urso tries to show how elements shaped by the Creator from prime matter combine to form the ‘‘elementata’’ in bodies. These ‘‘elementata,’’ which can transform under the effect of the interactions between the essential and accidental qualities of the elements that compose them, are at the base of all natural phenomena, in the human body (through the intermediaries of complexions) as in the sublunary world in general. Through his detailed study of the theory of elements, Urso aims to provide a single explanation for natural phenomena that come under medicine or philos- ophy; his goal is to be an inventor, that is, a founder like Hippocrates was for medicine, to whom the qualifier was traditionally attributed, and to found a new discipline synthesizing contributions of doctors and philosophers. This discipline constitutes, for Urso, the Physica, whose ambition largely exceeds medicine in the strict sense, since its investigations spread to all things in nature. However, this ambitious project has no immediate sequels in the West for two main reasons: first, the arrival of new translations, notably of Aristotle, Avicenna, and Galen, modify clearly from the beginning of the thirteenth century the idea of the relation between medicine and philosophy; second, the decline of the Salerno school 740 M Medicine and Philosophy philosophy in 1398–1399. The Conciliator of Pietro d’Abano, written between 1303 and 1310, must be consid- ered an attempt to bring solutions to these debates that then stimulate the medical community. The acuity of these questions, as institutional as intellectual, doubtlessly explain in part the success obtained in Italy by the Canon, which becomes over the course of the fourteenth century the almost unique source of all medical teaching: it was the only one to give a solution allowing to conserve the ben- efits of Galenism and the great principles of philosophy. It is therefore not surprising that the Averroist doctor and philosopher Antonio da Parma proposes, in the first years of the fourteenth century, a solution to the problem based on Avicennian instrumentalism, by distinguishing, in accordance with Aristotle, two types of arguments: the first one, the dialectic argumentation, is the philosophers’, and is true and necessary; the second one is the rhetorical argumentation, which is ‘‘much less probably’’ (comm. Canon, I.1.6.2.): it is the doctors’. In the following generation, Gentile da Foligno (d. 1348) deepens this distinction by trying to show, for each of the controversial questions, that the contradiction between the discourse of philosophers and doctors does not prevent the latter from acting to maintain health. He concludes that the physicians can content themselves with the assumptions of their discipline, even if they appear false. We must note, however, that Avicennian instrumentalism does not lead these authors to abandon the debates between Galen and Aristotle. On the contrary, the distinction between the doctor acting ‘‘as a doctor’’ and the doctor pher’’ allows them to engage these questions without confus- ing the two disciplines, and without substantially modifying the modes of treatments left by the Galenic tradition: the theoretical questions still remain, in the first half of the fourteenth century, an essential part of medical education. The Influence of Averroes and the Decline of Philosophy in Medicine The introduction of Averroes’ Colliget in the West has a determining role in the subsequent evolution. While the position of the Andalusian doctor and philosopher can seem totally opposed to Avicennian instrumentalism, the Latin authors succeed in integrating it to a coherent global vision. Averroes considers, as we have seen, that all medicine is practical, and that theoretical aspects come under another discipline, superior to it, that is, natural philosophy. Such a presentation goes against the stated willingness of Latin authors of bestowing on their disci- pline the status of a science, and, in Italy, against the separation, in the medical curriculum, of theoretical and practical medicine. However, the integration of medicine in universities: strong connections between the disciplines in Italy, more distant links in the rest of Europe. must be said that the originality of western thinkers is that they propose a synthesis of the different solutions that have been advanced before them. The end of the Middle Ages is traditionally considered a period during which the philosophical side of medicine is gradually neglected, to the benefit of a renewed interest in practical observations, experimenta and other mirabilia. In reality, theoretical discussions lose their keenness, and are no longer treated, even in Italian universities, as rou- tine questions. Significantly, the most famous Paduan doctors of the second half of the fifteenth century abandon their theoretical chairs to occupy those in pratica. Medical theory then becomes a simple foundation course for first- year students, one that coincides largely with natural phi- losophy, while the renewed interest for observation and experimentation paves the way for the important devel- opments of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. If the social and cultural conditions had an important role to play in these changes, it is certain that the synthesis real- ized by the Latin masters from the Colliget and the Canon contributed to, if not presided over, this tendency. In this way, we can say that the construction of the philosophical and medical models of the Middle Ages played an essential role in the progress of experimentation and observation that characterize the beginnings of Renaissance science. See also: ▶ Alexandrian Tradition into Arabic: Medicine ▶ Alexandrian Tradition into Arabic: Philosophy ▶ Arabic Texts: Natural Philosophy, Latin Translation of ▶ Arabic Texts: Philosophy, Latin Translation of ▶ Aris- totle, Arabic ▶ Arnaldus de Villanova ▶ Constantine the African ▶ Epistemology ▶ al-Fārābı̄, Abū ˙ Arabic ▶ Gerard of Cremona ▶ Ibn Rushd (Averroes), Latin Translations of ▶ Ibn Rushd, Muhammad ibn ˙ Ahmad al-Hafı̄d (Averroes) ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ ˙ ˙ (Avicenna) ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā (Avicenna), Latin Translations of ▶ Medicine, Byzantine ▶ Medicine in the Arab World ▶ Natural Philosophy ▶ Natural Philosophy, Arabic ▶ Philosophy, Arabic ▶ Schools in the Twelfth Century Bibliography Primary Sources Angellus of Ravenna (1981) Commentaria in librum de sectis Galeni, ed. and English trans. Westerink LG et al. Arethusa, New York/Buffalo Aristotle (forthcoming) De sensu et sensato. In: Aristoteles ed. Peeters L. Brepols, Turnhout Arnaldus de Villanova (2000) De intentione medicorum, ed. McVaugh MR. Universitat de Barcelona, Barcelona Averroes (1987) Kitāb al-Kullı̄yāt fı̄ t-tibb, ˙ ˙ Alvarez de Morales C. Consejo superior de investigaciones 742 M Medicine in the Arab World McKeon R (1961) Medicine and philosophy in the century: the problem of elements. Thomist McVaugh MR (2000) Introduction to Arnaldus de intentione medicorum. AVOMO, vol 1. Universitat Barcelone, pp 127–197 McVaugh MR, Siraisi NG (eds) (1990) Renaissance medical learning. Osiris, II s., 6 O’Boyle C (1998) The art of medicine. Medical of Paris, 1250–1400. Brill, Leiden Ottosson P-G (1984) Scholastic medicine and commentaries on Galen’s Tegni (ca. 1300–1450). p 322 Palmieri N (1997) La théorie de la médecine In: Jacquart D (ed) Les voies de la science transmission des textes de l’Antiquité Genève, pp 33–133 Siraisi NG (1981) Taddeo Alderotti and his pupils: Italian medical learning. Princeton University Temkin O (1973) Galenism. Rise and decline of Cornelle University Press, Ithaca/Londres Van Der Eijk PJ (2005) Medicine and philosophy Doctors and philosophers on nature, soul, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge Westerink LG (1964) Philosophy and medicine 51:168–177 Medicine in the Arab World HANS HINRICH BIESTERFELDT Seminar für Orientalistik Bochum University Bochum Germany Abstract Medicine in the classical Islamic world was basically shaped by three different traditions, sometimes interacting with each other: pre-Islamic Bedouin folklore; the so-called Prophetic medicine, the diagnosis and ther- apy of which was informed by the alleged practice of the Prophet Muh: ammad; and Hellenistic medicine. Prophetic medicine must have enjoyed a considerable share in every- day life, since a large number of compilations, all of them by traditionists, jurists, historians, rather than physicians, is extant in numerous manuscripts (and continues to be reprinted until today). However, far more productive and representative of medicine in Islam is the Hellenistic tradition, as it was standardized mainly by Galen (d. c. 216 CE), translated from Greek into Arabic and devel- oped from the ninth century onwards. Arabic medical compendia which reflect this tradition in structure and contents are Abū Bakr al-Rāzı̄’s Comprehensive Book on man among the animals, then to the believers among the humans, the prophets, and so on, and finally the most perfect balance to the Prophet Muh: ammad. It is difficult to determine the exact share of Prophetic medicine in the medical care of the medieval Islamic world and to know the names of its practitioners, but, apart from the Helle- nistic admixtures that one notes not only in al-Dhahabı̄’s book, the sheer bulk of works of this type, multiplied by a great number of manuscripts (and in modern times, printings), attests to the fact that Prophetic medicine coexisted with the Hellenistic tradition – as did popular magical medicine whose evidence consists not only of texts but also of amulets, talismans, magic squares, and magic-medicinal bowls. The pious fringe of Prophetic medicine, however, maintained that all human medical measures are to be considered as an impairment of God’s omnipotence and that care and cure should be limited to a healthy diet, simple medicines, prominently honey, and recitations and prayer. Far more productive and prestigious than Prophetic medicine, and clearly better to evaluate in modern schol- arship, were Hellenistic medicine and pharmacology, translated and appropriated from the early days of the ʿAbbāsid empire by the middle of the ninth century. It can safely be said that the whole of Greek medicine was translated into Arabic and was to dominate Islamic medicine – as well as long centuries of the Latin medical tradition. (For the translation movement, the role of the Alexandrian tradition in shaping the medical curriculum and the principal genres of medical literature, and the impact of ‘‘Galenism,’’ see the entry on Alexandrian Tra- dition into Arabic: Medicine in this volume.) One of the most obvious features of medical literature both in Late Antiquity and in classical Islam is the compendium, or encyclopedia, endeavoring to present all medical knowl- edge in systematic order. Two early specimens of such compendia are ʿAlı̄ b. Sahl Rabban al-Tabarı̄’s (fl. c. 850) ˙ The Paradise of Wisdom, which predominantly uses Greek authors such as Hippocrates, Galen, Aristotle, Dioscurides, but appends an exposition of the system of Indian medicine (available through Persian and Arabic translations) and displays a characteristic mix of informa- tion also on natural philosophy, climate, astronomy/ astrology, magic, the human soul, and popular customs, and Abū Bakr Muh: ammad b. Zakariyyā’ al-Rāzı̄’s (d. 925, or 935?) Comprehensive Book on Medicine (in medieval Latin translations Continens or Comprehensor), a large collection (compiled and roughly ordered a capite ad calcem posthumously by his students) of quotations from Galen and other authors and observations of his own. Another compendium by al-Rāzı̄, more systematized 744 M Medicine in the Arab World compile it for themselves. Besides chapters 1 and 2 on physiology and pathology, this compilation’s most extensive, and most famous and influential, part is the last chapter 30 on surgery, an art which, the author says, was largely obliterated on its way from Antiquity to Arabic medicine and is in need of a new anatomical foundation and accurate descriptions of operations such as cauterization, section, extraction, amputation, and the therapy of fractures and luxations. This chapter in particular had a considerable influence, through its translation by Gerard of Cremona, on anatomical and surgical literature of the Latin West down to the eighteenth century, as well as on early Ottoman medicine. Another interesting feature of this chapter is its abundant illustration with drawings of surgical instruments. Notwithstanding the extensiveness and long afterlife of al-Zahrāwı̄’s exposition (and some of his colleagues’ books, prominently the Foundation of the Art of Medicine by a student of Ibn al-Nafı̄s, the Damascene Christian physician Ibn al-Quff, who died in 1286), it is a matter of debate whether the numerous and detailed surgical procedures described in the literature reflect real practice. From the lack of actual descriptions or realistic illustra- tions one may surmise that highly invasive operations, like surgically treating abdominal wounds or amputation, were performed very rarely, and the Caesarian section, during parturition or post-mortem, never. Surgical measures that are attested included – apart from minor measures such as bloodletting and cauterization, the latter used to seal bleeding wounds, but also to treat a great variety of complaints, including mental ones – removal of tumors and growths, treatment of wounds, such as extraction of arrows, excision of cysts, ligation, or sclero- tization of hemorrhoids, and of course circumcision. A surgical discipline of remarkable variety and innovation was developed in ophthalmology; in fact, the works on the anatomy of the eye and the therapy of eye diseases can be seen as a distinct branch of Arabic medical literature. Already in the ninth century the famous trans- lator from Greek into Arabic and medical author in his own right, Hunayn b. Ish: āq, and his teacher Ibn Māsawayh ˙ wrote influential ophthalmological works, advancing beyond their Greek forerunners (Galen, Oribasius, Paul of Aegina, et al.). ʿAlı̄ b. ʿĪsā (d. a highly regarded Memorandum for Oculists, which sys- tematically treats 130 eye diseases with their symptoms, causes, and therapies. A close contemporary of his was ʿAmmār al-Maws:ilı̄ whose Book of Selection on the Treat- ment of Eye Diseases was dedicated to the Fatimid sultan al-Hākim and presents less than half of ʿAlı̄’s ˙ disorders, but contains a number of original observations libraries, fountains, rest houses for travelers, etc. The origin of hospitals in the Islamic realm is not quite clear; the hospital in seventh-century Sasanian Gondēshāpūr was already famous in the seventh century, and the Chris- tian Bokhtı̄shūʿ family of physicians, summoned from there by the ʿAbbāsid Caliph al-Mans:ūr (d. 775) to the court in Baghdad, may have been instrumental in importing this institution (the term bı̄māristān is of Per- sian origin) and, generally, a Christian concern for public charity. At any rate, in the classical period of Islam every major city had one or more hospitals: Baghdad (since the first half of the tenth century, prominently the ʿAdudı̄ hospital, founded in 982), Damascus (the Nūrı̄ hospital around 1150), Cairo (the Mans:ūrı̄ hospital, founded in 1284), as well as in Iran and al-Andalus. A full-fledged hospital consisted of an outpatient clinic and an infirmary and housed departments for the specialists – surgeons, oculists, pharmacists –, an asylum for the insane, a home for elderly patients without a family, and a lecture yard and library for medical education. Despite the fact that medicine and its practitioners enjoyed such a high status in Muslim societies – to be judged by the social eminence and high salary of the top- rank physicians and the impressive endowment of the large hospitals – we have numerous examples of invectives against the professional failings of the physician as an individual and against the pretensions of medicine as a discipline. The rich deontological branch of Arabic medical literature, basing itself on the professional ethics and example of Hippocrates and on the programmatic treatise by Galen, ‘‘That the Best Physician is Also a Philosopher,’’ is full of lamentations over the present state of the art. Physicians are blamed as arrogant, incom- petent, and, more often than not, greedy for money. A small essay by one ʿAbdalwadūd (late eleventh/early twelfth century) on ‘‘The Blameworthiness of Making Money by the Craft of Medicine’’ presents a number of examples of the decline of medicine: prescription of, and trade with, expensive drugs regardless of the specific climate and humoral disposition of the patient, conflict between worldly power and the physician’s professional ethics, lack of cooperation between colleagues, where a complex diagnosis would call for more than one special- ist, and plain practical and theoretical ignorance. ʿAbdalwadūd’s main argument is that incompetence and love of money are two sides of the same coin and that practicing medicine merely with regard to making money perverts the idea of this noble art. Other noteworthy works on the physician’s professional ethics are Ish: āq b. ʿAlı̄ al- Ruhāwı̄’s (probably working in the second half of the ninth century) The Ethics (Arabic adab) of the Physician, 746 M Medicine, Byzantine practice and refusing any public position, did not include medicine in his Enumeration of the Sciences, doubted Galen’s competence in logic, and granted only a limited validity to the generalia of medicine, the doctrine of the human organism, and the theory of health and illness as subjects of the natural sciences. In his preface to a short Epistle on Medicine, al-Fārābı̄ a ‘‘productive craft, which is not concerned its objects as intelligibilia for the soul, reflection, but to produce effects on the objects provide them with qualities and other accidentia.’’ Medicine is, al-Fārābı̄ implies, not concerned human soul and is not a science (Arabic ʿilm, Greek epistēmē). Comparable to the fields of agriculture or rhetoric, medicine is concerned with the particular and the contingent, not the general and logically demonstra- ble, and it leads to ‘‘opinions,’’ not See also: ▶ Abū Bakr al-Rāzı̄, Muh: (Rhazes) ▶ Alexandrian Tradition into Arabic: ▶ Aristotle, Arabic ▶ al-Fārābı̄, ˙ ▶ Ibn Rushd, Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Hafı̄d (Averroes) ˙ ˙ ˙ ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ (Avicenna) ˙ icine and Philosophy ▶ Translations from Greek into Arabic Bibliography Secondary Sources Biesterfeldt HH (1984) Some opinions on the medieval Islam. Bull Hist Med 38:48–75 Endress G (1992) Medizin. In: Fischer W (ed) Philologie, vol III: Supplement. Ludwig Reichert, Wiesbaden, pp 116–138 Klein-Franke F (1982) Vorlesungen über die Archiv, Beihefte 23. Franz Steiner, Wiesbaden Pormann PE, Savage-Smith E (2007) Medieval Islamic medicine, The New Edinburgh Islamic Surveys Series. University Rosenthal F (1969) The defense of medicine in the medieval Muslim world. Bull Hist Med 43:519–532 (repr. and medicine in Islam. A collection of Aldershot) Savage-Smith E (2000) Tibb. In: The Encyclopaedia ˙ vol X. Brill, Leiden, pp 452–460 Sezgin F (1970) Geschichte des arabischen Schrifttums. Pharmazie – Zoologie – Tierheilkunde. Brill, Leiden Todd RB (1984) Philosophy and medicine in John tary on Aristotle’s De anima. In: Scarborough Byzantine medicine, Dumbarton Oaks Papers 38, pp 103–110 Ullmann M (1970) Die Medizin im Islam, Handbuch Erste Abteilung, Ergänzungsband 6, Erster Köln Ullmann M (1978) Islamic medicine, Islamic surveys Edinburgh Westerink LG (1964) Philosophy and medicine 51:169–177 (repr. Westerink LG (1980) Texts and studies in hospitals; numerous written accounts tell us about the date of their foundation and their history. Other literary sources describe the role of medicine in the society, per- ceptions of illness, death, and medical treatment. Some hospitals issued their own manuals; these texts were cus- tom made to suit their specific needs. Apart from texts like these, other popular genres of medical literature were florilegia of ancient sources, medical encyclopedias and collections of recipes. Byzantium also saw a flourishing book production, which led to a number of revisions or editions of texts. The sheer amount of text involved in this process is tremendous and very little of it has, as yet, been made accessible in printed editions. The fall of Constanti- nople was not the end of Byzantine medicine – genres as the iatrosophion lived on, and later medical authors used medieval sources for their works. Health care was widely available in the Byzantine empire, and usually centered around hospitals, of which a large number are accounted for, founded between as early as the fifth century and the fourteenth century. They had their roots in charitable institutions, which offered shelter to the poor and homeless, or pilgrims. The most detailed information we have is on the Pantocrator hospital in Constantinople. Apart from the actual building, the statutes (typikon in Greek) have sur- vived, along with copies of the medical books which were either held or produced there. The hospital had several wards, offering amongst other services specialist treatment for eye diseases. A woman physician attended to gyneco- logical problems. The surgical instruments from the period bear strong resemblance to the classical instrumentarium. The same applies to pharmaceutical ingredients. However, in both cases a certain simplifica- tion can be noted, with a tendency toward the practical and ordinary rather than the sophisticated. Throughout the Byzantine period medicine kept a strong interest in earlier writings, either by preserving them in a copy or by transforming and adapting them to the needs of their audience. Oreibasius (fourth century CE) epitomized Galen’s works. Aetius of Amida (sixth century CE) compiled an extensive medical encyclopedia on pharmacology, diseases, and dietetics. Although his work is, strictly speaking, an amalgamation of diverse excerpts, it forms a readable and well-balanced corpus. Paul of Aegina (seventh century CE) wrote a shorter yet comprehensive medical handbook that is partly based on excerpts, but does also contain original material. It covers all common diseases along with an extensive chapter on surgery. Similar in length and style is the Therapeutics by Alexander of Tralles (sixth century CE). The main charac- teristic of this author is an especially humane and careful 748 M Meister Eckhart urine diagnosis and therapeutics. Ioannes Actuarius and Alexander of Tralles sometimes question earlier On the whole, medical history of Byzantium bears strong characteristics of the continuation of earlier models, with emphasis on practice. Medical education and publishing were highly developed and had an impact on medicine in the entire western world. Throughout time of the Byzantine empire, medicine was influenced by foreign, mainly eastern writings, which even led to Arabic works being translated into Greek; a prominent example is the treatise on small-pox and measles by Rhazes, which was incorporated into a canon of medical texts with Alexander of Tralles and Artemidorus. See also: ▶ Medicine and Philosophy ▶ Medicine Arab World Bibliography Primary Sources Ermerins FZ (ed) (1840) Anecdota medica Graeca. Luchtmans Greenhill Guilielmus Alexander (ed) (1842) Theophilus de corporis humani fabrica libri V. Oxonii, E Typographeo Academico Heiberg IL (ed) (1921–1924) Paulus Aegineta B.G. Teubneri, Lipsiae/Berolini Ideler JL (ed) (1841–1842) Physici et medici Berolini Ieraci Bio AM (ed) (1996) Paolo di Nicea. Manuale Napoli Olivieri A (ed) (1935–1950) Aetii Amideni (CMG VIII 1–2). In aedibus B.G. Teubneri, Lipsiae/Berolini Puschmann Theodor (ed) (1963) Nachträge zu Fragmente aus Philumenus und Philagrius, ungedruckten Abhandlung über Augenkrankheiten. Hakkert, Amsterdam Renehan R (ed) (1969) Leo the physician. Epitome (CMG X4). Akademie, Berlin Steph Bernard IO (ed) (1794–1795) Theophanis cvratione morborvm. Gothae, apvd C.W. Ettinger Theodor Puschmann (ed), von Tralles Alexander (1963) Hakkert, Amsterdam (reprint) Zipser B (ed) (2009) John the physician’s book in vernacular Greek. Brill, Leiden Secondary Sources Bennett D (2003) Xenonika. Medical texts associated late Byzantine period. Dissertation. London Bliquez L (1999) The Surgical instrumentarium Med nei Sec 11:291–322 Congourdeau M-H (1996) Le traducteur grec du a variole. In: Garzya A (ed) Histoire et grecs. Storia e ecdotica dei testi medici Internazionale Parigi 24–28 maggio 1994. Constantelos D (1999) Medicine and social welfare empire. Med nei Sec 11:337–355 Eckhart of Hochheim (c. 1260–1328) was born into a family of the lower aristocracy in Tambach, a town south of Gotha in Thuringia. It is not known when he entered the Dominicans; the earliest evidence indicates that in 1293–1294 he acted as Bachelor of the Sentences (lector sententiarum) in Paris. From 1294 through 1298 he served simultaneously as prior of the Dominican convent at Erfurt and as vicar of Thuringia. In 1302–1303 he was called to Paris to teach theology as magister actu regens. In 1303 he was elected first provincial of the newly created province of Saxonia, to which he added the office of vicar-general for Bohemia in 1307. The 1310 provincial chapter held in Speyer elected him provincial of Teutonia, but Master General Eymerich of Piacenza did not confirm the election. In 1311 Eckhart was sent to Paris as theology professor for a second time, an honor which only Aquinas among Dominicans had received before him and which shows how distinguished his reputation was during his lifetime. Eckhart remained in Paris until 1313, thereafter returning to Germany. The widespread assumption that between 1314 and 1322 Eckhart resided in Strasbourg with the special office of spiritual counselor and preacher to convents of Dominican nuns and houses of Beguines lacks evidence. In fact, this idea is due to the misinterpretation of three documents which attest Eckhart’s presence in or near Strasbourg at three different times (1314, 1316, 1322), but from which nothing can be inferred regarding Eckhart’s alleged official appointment as responsible for the so-called cura monialium (see Sturlese, in Quero- Sánchez and Steer 2008). In 1324 Eckhart was certainly in Cologne, where he has long been conjectured to have carried out the office of lecturer at the Studium generale. In 1326, following the accusations of two of his brethren, inquisitional proceed- ings for heresy against him were started by the Archbishop of Cologne, Henry II of Virneburg. The trial, which con- tinued at the Papal Court in Avignon after Eckhart’s appeal to the Holy See in 1327, would eventually lead to the bull ‘‘In agro dominico’’ by Pope John XXII (1329), condemning 28 excerpts from Eckhart’s works. In the meantime, Eckhart had already died (1328). Despite the condemnation, his thought did not cease to be influential and themes characteristic of his teaching found their way into the writings of John Tauler, Henry Suso, and Berthold of Moosburg. The idea that man, in the deepest ground of his soul, is intimately conversant with God lies at the heart of Eckhart’s thought. The human intellect is an image of God and therefore stands in a relationship of coessential univocity with Him, from Whom it goes forth and to 750 M Meister Eckhart Eckhart’s literary activity in German, dating from when he served as prior in Erfurt (1294–1298). Formerly these were often disregarded as examples of devotional literature without speculative ambitions, but recently The Talks have been given increasing scholarly attention. Eckhart offered a new and philosophically based interpretation of the traditional monastic virtues. Obedience, the foremost virtue, does not mean only subordination to the superior, but implies an existential breakthrough which consists of forsaking oneself, anni- hilating oneself ’s will, giving up what is one’s own; in a word, detachment (abegescheidenheit). The denial of self is strictly related to the possibility of establishing a more intimate relationship with God because a man able to reach detachment will necessarily enjoy the presence of God in himself and will be transformed by it. So portrayed, obedience looks like an attitude of openness towards God rather than to other men, an attitude whose adoption requires considerable and continued hard effort. The Talks also present a few other points on which Eckhart was later to expand further: the ethics of intention (the idea that sanctity does not lie in works but in the perfect and righteous will of human agents); the related conviction that what counts for Christian life is inner self- denial rather than external practices of asceticism; the view that to the human intellect God is by nature very close and present. Very little is still extant from the period of Eckhart’s theological mastership in Paris: three disputations plus a sermon on St. Augustine date probably from his first period as theology professor (1302–1303), and another two disputations probably from the second period (1311–1313). The first two disputations focus on the rela- tionship between intellect and being, in God as well as in angels, and provide valuable insights into Eckhart’s teach- ing on intellect. In the first disputation (Utrum in deo sit idem esse et intelligere, LW V, 37–48) – actually, it postdates the second one – Eckhart departs radically from Aquinas’ doctrine. After having reported Aquinas’ arguments in favor of the identity of intellect and being in God, Eckhart claims that God exists because He understands, and not the converse – that He understands because He exists. Such a claim is tantamount to saying that God is intellect and under- standing and that understanding is superior to being. Being qualifies the mode of existence of creatures, which are all formally (formaliter) beings, and therefore does not apply to God the creator. Yet, though not formally, being is in God as in its cause (sicut in causa), for God causes with his science everything. In other words, God is puritas Genesis, one on Exodus, on Wisdom, on Canticle – of which only a fragment is preserved – and on the Gospel of St. John), two lectures, two sermons on Chapter 24 of the Book of Sirach, and some 50 model Latin sermons. Eckhart worked on the Three-Part Work for several years and at least three different redactional stages are documented in the manuscript tradition. This means that the surviving parts were composed at different times. The two lectures and two sermons on Chapter 24 of the Book of Sirach (LW II, 231–300), for example, date more or less from the same time of the first three Parisian questions. These texts seem to have had a programmatic value because Eckhart gave the lectures and the sermons in front of the German intellectual elite of the order on the occasions of two provincial chapters. The second lecture is one of the places where Eckhart sets forth his original teaching on analogy. Analogates, Eckhart maintains, have nothing positively rooted in themselves of the form according to which they are in a relation of analogy. Being and all other general perfec- tions (One, True, Good, Light, Justice, etc.) are predicated in an analogical way of God and creatures. Therefore, each creature has its being, its being true, its being good, etc. not in itself, but in and from God alone. Eckhart goes so far as to say that all creatures, insofar as they are outside God, are nothing in themselves, for God only is Being. Eckhart’s doctrine of analogy serves thus to show that creatures stand in a relationship of total dependence on God. Apparently the doctrine of analogy, to which Eckhart was to keep throughout the course of his life, runs counter to the views he had put forward shortly before in the first two Parisian questions, where he had maintained that creatures are beings, while God is not being but intellect. As a matter of fact, the contradiction can be explained away as a shift from a ‘‘physical’’ to a ‘‘meta perspective: in both the disputations and the lecture on the Book of Sirach Eckhart is concerned with stressing the radical difference between God and creatures, but whereas in the disputations by ‘‘being’’ Eckhart means the imper- fect mode of existence of creatures (which are localized in space and time and determined according to genus and species), in the lectures on Sirach he takes Being as one of the general perfections which properly belong only to God but are participated in also by creatures. In the Commentary on the Gospel of St. John (LW III), one of the latest sections of the Opus, Eckhart expresses in a programmatic fashion how he conceives of his exegetical work by pointing out that in his scriptural commentaries his purpose is to explain on the basis of the natural reasons of the philosophers what Christian Faith and the Bible teach. Such a view of exegesis was the obvious result of the 752 M Meister Eckhart reactions, it is no surprise that the two lists on which the accusation against Eckhart was based contained many excerpts from the Liber Benedictus and from the German sermons. Among other doctrines censored is that perfections (Goodness, Justice, Wisdom, etc.), a doctrine which is dealt with in great detail in the Liber Benedictus. Between Goodness and the good man exists a relationsh of univocal causality, or reciprocal relationality: Good- ness, which is neither created nor made nor begotten, begets the good man, who is neither created nor made but is the son born and begotten of Goodness. Goodness and the good man, in other words, are identical action of begetting of the former is one with the latter’s being begotten, the only difference between them being that the former begets and the latter is begotten. Whatever pertains to the good man, he has in and from Goodness. This doctrine is a radical transformation of metaphysics: it is not a quality (goodness) that lies in and is supported by an underlying subject (i.e., the good man), but the subject that is in the spiritual perfection. Insofar as he is good, namely, insofar as he abandons the dimension of creatureliness, the good man is nothing but simple Goodness. The two most characteristic and interrelated issues of the vernacular sermons are detachment and the birth of the Word or Son in the soul. Detachment, as has been said, is the way man has to go in order to recover of his inner union with God. The origin of this crucial concept of Eckhart’s thought has been traced back to the philosophical tradition, notably to the Anaxagorean- Aristotelian view of the intellect as something separable, pure from all admixture, simple, having nothing mon with anything else. The birth of the Word in the soul is an idea which Eckhart could find in the Christian tradition, but which he modified in an original fashion. Indeed, he conceived of the generation of the Word in the soul as a cess: the Father is always bearing the Son in the soul, provided the soul realizes that its ground is identical with God’s ground. See also: ▶ Albert the Great ▶ Dietrich Lombard ▶ Richard Rufus of Cornwall ▶ Thomas Aquinas Bibliography Primary Sources (1936–) Die deutschen Werke (DW) ed. Quint und lateinischen Werke, hrsg. im Auftrage der Deutschen Forschungsgemeinschaft, 5 vols. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart Mental Language PEKKA KÄRKKÄINEN Faculty of Theology University of Helsinki Helsinki Finland Abstract William of Ockham has been considered the first thinker to develop a theory of mental language with grammatical structures. Ockham’s early views built upon Augustine’s and Boethius’ two-fold concept of a mental word: a con- cept common to all people and a resemblance of words to actual spoken and written languages. Ockham understood mental language to be identical with thinking. The spoken and written words are subordinated to their mental coun- terparts and therefore share their signification. According to Ockham, mental language does not contain figurative speech, grammatical genders, synonyms, or equivoca- tions, but does contain most other features of external languages, including suppositions of terms and certain fallacies related to the suppositions. John Buridan diverged from Ockham’s view at this point and used the notion of modes of thinking to discuss related problems. Gregory of Rimini modified the view of mental language in several respects. He considered the major part of mental language to consist of a mentalized conventional language, with only the act of assenting to a mental proposition, which he considered to be the mental proposition itself, being independent of conventional languages. Peter of Ailly further developed Gregory’s and Ockham’s ideas. In Italy, Peter of Mantua and Paul of Venice discussed the problems of word order and mental language that William of Heytesbury had raised earlier. The former was mainly critical of Heytesbury, while the latter for the most part shared Heytesbury’s views. Several later fifteenth- and sixteenth-century logicians continued the discussions. William of Ockham’s starting point in developing a theory of mental language was the traditional notion of mental word. In particular, he adopted the idea, developed in diverse ways by Aristotle, Augustine, and Boethius, that some phenomena of the human mind are closely related to the words in conventional languages, yet are common to all people despite their diverse spoken and written lan- guages. Ockham’s claims about the nature and function of mental speech having an idiosyncratic grammatical struc- ture, however, justify the oft-repeated statement that he 754 M Mental Language Ockham also raised the question of whether participles and pronouns are needed in Mentalese. Generally it seems to hold that, according to Ockham, there are no synonymous or equivocal terms in mental language. However, according to Ockham, there are falla- cies, which also occur in mental language. These include some fallacies that he classified as equivocations, such as those arising from a confusion between simple and personal supposition. However, most mental language fallacies are fallacies of accident, some sort of logical mistakes. The explanation of synonyms elucidates how Ockham understood the relationship between mental language and conventional languages in general. Synonymous terms in conventional languages correspond generally only to one term in the mental language. The synony- mous terms share the signification of the corresponding mental term, and their signification is asymmetrically dependent on the signification of the latter. This is what Ockham meant when he stated that conventional terms are subordinated to mental terms. Ockham did not believe, as did Walter Burley and John Buridan, that terms of conventional languages signify their corresponding mental terms, but rather the spoken and written terms share the extension of the mental terms and signify the objects immediately. Against the representatives of modist or speculative grammar, Ockham argued that signification is a linguistic phenomenon restricted to mental and conventional lan- guages, and therefore the modes of signification do not reflect the constitution of the extramental world. In Ockham’s view, the structures of spoken and mental lan- guages are clearly distinguished from the structures of external reality. This line of argument is consonant with and closely connected to Ockham’s program of ontologi- cal parsimony, and it marked a line that was still visible in fifteenth-century disagreements between modists and nominalists. There has been longstanding debate among scholars on whether there are or should be connotative terms in the mental language according to Ockham’s theory. One of the main problems in admitting connotative terms into a mental language has been that it seems to contradict the rule that there is no synonymity in a mental language. The possible coexistence of connotative terms and their complex nominal definitions seem to violate this basic rule, which many scholars have considered an essential feature of Ockham’s idea of mental language. Claude Panaccio has argued that Ockham considered connotative terms a natural part of the mental language. According to Panaccio, Ockham did not consider connotative terms and In Paris, Ockham’s theory was received in various ways. Buridan never developed a fully elaborated theory of mental language as did Ockham, but the idea of mental language was nevertheless an integral part of his thinking. Buridan’s view of mental language largely resembles Ockham’s mature theory, but there are also significant differences. According to Buridan, mental terms have per- sonal rather than material suppositions, even when they refer to other mental concepts. Only vocal and written terms have a material supposition, which is the case when they refer merely to mental concepts rather than objects of the external world. Buridan distinguished diverse modes of thinking (modi intelligendi), which correspond to dif- ferent suppositions of the conventional languages on the mental level. Unlike Ockham, Buridan did not believe that there are fallacies of equivocation in the mental language, and con- sequently, he opposed to Ockham’s broad definition of equivocation, which included the confusion between simple and personal supposition. Buridan discussed the problem of differing word order discussed by Ockham and Heytesbury by referring to differing modes of think- ing about mental concepts, which result in diverse word orders and consequently diverse suppositions of the terms in written and spoken propositions. Like Heytesbury, Buridan considered compositive and divisive acts of the mind to correspond to positive and negative copulas in the spoken and written categorical propositions. Buridan called them ‘‘complexive concepts,’’ distinguishing them from ‘‘simple’’ concepts such as subject and predicate. According to Buridan, the principal parts of a categorical proposition included a copula. Gregory of Rimini recognized the problem of consid- ering the mental proposition as one compositional act in a proper sense. For him such a view did not sufficiently address the problems of word order that Ockham and Heytesbury had discussed. Therefore, he concluded that the mental proposition must be one undivided mental act, which he identified with the act of assenting to the mental proposition. Based on Ockham’s view of lying, Gregory also argued that there are no insoluble paradoxes in the mental language, since no proper mental sentence is self- referential. Gregory revived Augustine’s view of the dual nature of mental words. According to Gregory, a major part of thinking consists of mental language, which is based on spoken and written languages. Only the act of assenting to or dissenting from a proposition belongs to the mental language common to all people. Similarly, Peter of Ailly followed Ockham’s early views in distinguishing mental language in the proper and improper senses. Peter also 756 M Mental Representation ▶ Supposition Theory ▶ Syncategoremata ▶ Terms, Properties of ▶ Walter Burley ▶ Walter Chatton ▶ Wil- liam Crathorn ▶ William Heytesbury ▶ William of Ockham Bibliography Primary Sources Peter of Ailly (1980) Concepts and insolubles Dordrecht William of Ockham (1967–1979) Scriptum in Sententiarum (Ordinatio). In: Gál G, FE (eds) OT, vols 1–4. Franciscan Institute versity, St. Bonaventure William of Ockham (1974) Summa logicae. In: Brown S (eds) OP, vol 1. Franciscan Institute University, St. Bonaventure William of Ockham (1980) Quodlibeta septem. Franciscan Institute of St. Bonaventure William of Ockham (1982) Quaestiones in librum Sententiarum (Reportatio). In: Gál G, Franciscan Institute of St. Bonaventure Secondary Sources Ashworth EJ (1981) Mental language and the unity of propositions: a semantic problem discussed by early sixteenth Francisc Stud 41:61–96 Ashworth EJ (1982) The structure of mental language: discussed by early sixteenth century logicians. Biard J (ed) (2009) Le langage mental de l’Antiquité Peeters, Paris/Bruxelles Brown DJ (1996) The puzzle of names in Ockham’s language. Rev Metaphys 50:79–99 Gelber HG (1984) I cannot tell a lie. Hugh Lawton’s on mental language. Francisc Stud 44:141–179 Lenz M (2003) Mentale Sätze. Wilhelm von Ockhams Thesen zur Sprachlichkeit des Denkens. Franz Steiner, Stuttgart Maierù A (2004) Mental language and Italian teenth and fifteenth centuries. In: Friedman Buridan and beyond: topics in the language The Royal Danish Academy of Sciences and pp 33–67 Meier-Oeser S (2004) Mental language and mental Scholastic logic. In: Friedman RL, Ebbesen beyond: topics in the language sciences, ish Academy of Sciences and Letters, Copenhagen, Normore CG (1990) Ockham on mental language. In: Smith JC (ed) Historical foundations of cognitive science. 53–70 Panaccio C (1999) Le discours intérieur de Seuil, Paris Panaccio C (2004) Ockham on concepts. Ashgate, Perler D (1997) Crathorn on mental language. imagines, verba. Semiotics and logic in (XIIth–XIVth century). Acts of the 11th logic and semantics, San Marino, 24–28 May 1994. Brepols, Trunhout, pp 337–354 van der Lecq R (2009) Mental language: a key Buridan’s Semantics. Retrieved from http://www Accessed Jan 2009 thoughts are about something, exhibit intentionality, or represent is that the form of the object thought about is in the mind of the thinker. On Aquinas’ view, the mind is nothing before it thinks of something. The active intellect abstracts the intelligible form from the particular sensitive form in the internal senses and places it in the potential intellect. The form placed there by the active intellect hence actualizes the potential intellect. The thought is also always universal on this view since it is immaterial and matter is the individuating principle, according to Aquinas. The imma- terial intelligible species in the potential intellect tutes the thought. There are many problems associated with this view of mental representation. A famous problem is: why do the daffodils outside my soul not represent my thought about the daffodils? The forms inside and outside my mind are the same, suggesting that mental representation is sym- metrical. Aquinas has a famous answer to this problem, which is that the daffodils in the garden do not represent my thought because of the mode of the form’s presence in them. The forms in the daffodils are really present whereas in my mind the universal form is spiritually or intention- ally present. The distinction between forms being really or spiritu- ally present is central to Aquinas’ physics and natural philosophy. A form may be present somewhere without literally making whatever substance it informs into some- thing else. Colors in the air, for example, do not make the air really colored: we see colors in the objects around us but not in the intervening air, although they must be there spiritually if sensation is to be a causal process. This means, of course, that the air must also represent the color, which entails that intentionality is not a mark of the mental for Aquinas. The air is not in itself a mind (for discussion, see Pasnau 1997, Chap. 2). Peter John Olivi and the Rejection of the Conformality View One of the first to criticize the conformality or species theory of cognition, in the late thirteenth century, was Peter John Olivi. He argued, contrary to Aristotle and Aquinas, that the mind is active in its cognition of the world; it attends to the object, and it is this move on his part that puts the species theory of cognition in a completely different light. In fact, there seems little point in postulating a species through which the object is cognized. He argues: " Third, because the attention will tend toward the species either in such a way that it would not pass beyond so as to 758 M Mental Representation adapting this view to human cognition. Scotus’ implemented Henry’s distinction and treated the thing that does the representing as a mental act or concept, which ontologically speaking is an accident of the mind, and the thing represented as the form of the object thought about (which is why this is still a conformality account of mental representation). Scotus claimed that the accident or mental act is sub- jectively in the soul, whereas the object being represented is present objectively, or has objective being in the mind. He also said that the object exists sub ratione cognoscibilis seu repraesentanti or ‘‘in keeping with the nature of some- thing cognizable or represented’’ (Ord. n. 382) to express the content side of the mental represen- tation. Scotus thus had a clear way of expressing what Brentano later called intentionality, that is, the way the object of thought exists in the mind. It has objective existence in the mind on his view, which later came to be regarded as the mark of the mental (see Normore 1986; Pasnau 2003; King 2007). Although the advantages of this approach over Aquinas’ are clear, problems remained concerning the ontological status of these mental contents. The medieval debate here is famous and features a wide variety of opin- ions (for a survey, see Tachau 1988). Scotus himself says that thought objects have a diminished kind of being, which is supposed to be a state between real being and no being at all. Ockham would later subject this view to much criticism. William of Ockham and Mental Language Foremost William of Ockham developed the theory of mental language in the fourteenth century. It rests on a theory of mental representation that combined the notions of cause and signification. A concept or a mental term on this view represents because it was caused effi- ciently by a thing in the world. It signifies that thing also because of the causal relation between them. The object and the concept are said to covary. On Ockham’s view, a mental representation or concept is caused by an intui- tive cognition: " Intuitive cognition is the proper cognition of a singular not because of its greater likeness to one thing more than another but because it is naturally caused by one thing and not by another; nor can it be caused by another. If you object that it can be caused by God alone, I reply that this is true: such a visual apprehension is always apt to be caused by one created object and not by another; and if it is caused naturally, it is caused by one thing and not by another, and it is not able to be caused by another. (Quodlibeta septem 1.13) by adding content and to universal concepts by abstracting away from singularizing circumstances. To explain how the process he is advocating works, he uses an example that, after him, became a standard exam- ple used to explain singular cognition. In the example, Socrates approaches from afar. At first, I cannot tell exactly what I see approaching; something (a substance) is com- ing closer and closer to me. After a while, I see that it is an animal of some sort, but I cannot tell exactly what kind of animal it is. As it comes closer, I realize that it is a human being, and, finally, when he is close enough, I recognize Socrates. Although this example seems to have had a long tradition, nowhere else did it play as important a role as it does for Buridan and some of his followers. Cognition, it shows, is always in the first instance about ‘‘that thing,’’ ‘‘that animal,’’ ‘‘that human being,’’ ‘‘Socrates.’’ Hence, it is always about a the first instance. The example can be found in John Buridan, Nicholas Oresme, Marsilius of Inghen, Peter of Ailly, Gabriel Biel, and later authors, and all these authors used it in virtually the same way. The example can thus be said to reform the theory of thought developed by Ock- ham (see Lagerlund 2006, forthcoming). See also: ▶ Garlandus the Computist ▶ Henry of Ghent ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ (Avicenna) ▶ Intentionality Buridan ▶ John Duns Scotus ▶ Mental Language ▶ Peter Abelard ▶ Peter John Olivi ▶ Species, Sensible and Intel- ligible ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ William of Ockham Bibliography Primary Sources Abelard (1956) Dialectica, ed. de Rijk LM. van Gorcum, Assen Avicenna (1968–1972) Avicenna latinus: Liber de with an intro. Verbeke G. Brill, Leiden Duns Scotus John (1950–) Iohannis Duns Scoti Doctoris Mariani opera omnia, ed. Carolus Balic P et al. Vaticanae, Rome Garlandus Compotista (1959) Dialectica, ed. de Rijk Assen Quintilian (1921) Institutio oratoria, trans. Butler sity Press, Cambridge Tertullian (1947) De anima, ed. Waszink JH. J.M. Meulenhoff, Amsterdam William of Ockham (1967–1989) Guillelmi de Ockham Opera Philosophica et Theologica ad fidem codicum manuscriptorum edita. impressa Ad Claras Aquas (Italia), St. Bonaventure Secondary Sources de Rijk LM (1962–1967) Logica Modernorum: a contribution to the history of early terminist logic, vols 1–2. de Rijk LM (2005) Giraldus Odonis, De intentionibus, with a study on the medieval intentionality debate up to ca. 1350. Brill, Leiden 760 M Mental Word/Concepts often viewed as mental words of some kind. In contrast to the words of spoken languages, which vary from nation to nation, the concepts were taken to be the same for all people. Issues related to concepts or mental words were discussed in several fields of inquiry, including logic, the- ology, and philosophical psychology. In logic, concepts were traditionally called ‘‘understandings’’ and they were supposed to have a mediating role between words and things in signification. This view goes back to Aristotle’s De interpretatione and Boethius’ commentaries on it. In theology, the mental word (verbum) was a prominent theme because Augustine had elaborated an analogy between the human interior word and the Word, that is, the second person of the Trinitarian God. In the tradition of philosophical psychology starting from Aristotle’s De anima, the acquisition of concepts was a central theme. These and other influences led to intricate discussions in the medieval universities about what kind of entities in the mind relating to concepts one should postulate and how they should be described. Thomas Aquinas developed a model that includes a distinction between the intelligible species, the act of understanding, and the concept proper. There was extensive dispute about issues related to concepts in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth century, and much of it revolved around ideas presented by Aquinas. William of Ockham developed an alternative to the De anima-based approach on the basis of his nominalist philosophy. The concept or mental word, identified as an act of understanding, became the basic unit in the theory of mental language that Ockham advocated. An important source for the medieval understanding of concepts was the opening passage of Aristotle’s De interpretatione (16a3–9). The text was available in the Latin translation that Boethius had prepared at the begin- ning of the fifth century, and in medieval logic courses, it was usually read together with Boethius’ two commentar- ies on the treatise. Following Boethius’ translation, the pertinent lines can be rendered as follows: " What are spoken (ea quae sunt in voce) are symbols (notae) of the affections in the soul (passiones animae), and what are written [are symbols] of those that are spoken. And just as there are not the same written letters for everyone, so there are not the same spoken sounds (voces). But the primary things of which these are signs – the affections of the soul – are the same for all; and those of which they [the affections] are likenesses (similitudines) are also the same (English translation from Marenbon 1987:99 slightly adapted). also characterizes the act of intelligence as a kind of intel- lectual seeing. Aristotle’s De interpretatione and Boethius’ commen- taries on it were widely used at least since the eleventh century. They were the main source for discussions about concepts within the early medieval ‘‘old logic.’’ Peter Abelard’s Tractatus de intellectibus (A Treatise on Under- standings) offers an innovative treatment of concepts within this framework, but it did not have any notable influence on the later scholastic discussions. Already before Abelard, Anselm of Canterbury had commented on mental words in the treatise Monologion. This is a theological treatise that draws much of its inspi- ration from Augustine’s De trinitate, but Anselm was also familiar with the sources of logic and his treatment of mental word brings together Augustinian and Boethian ideas. In Monologion 10, Anselm distinguishes three kinds of words (verba) and three kinds of speaking of a thing. First, we can speak of a thing by uttering a word of a spoken language, for example, ‘‘man.’’ Second, we can speak of a thing by uttering the word of a spoken language (e.g., ‘‘man’’) silently within our mind. Third, we can inwardly utter the thing itself either by imagining the image of its body (imago corporis) or by understanding the thing’s ‘‘reason’’ (ratio), for example, by imagining the perceptible shape of man or by thinking of the universal essence of man as ‘‘rational, mortal animal,’’ respectively. Anselm says of the words of the third type that they are natural and the same for all nations and he characterizes them as likenesses of things. Anselm’s synthesis affected the way in which Augustine’s remarks about the interior word were construed in later discussion. The connection between one kind of mental word and the definition of the thing is noteworthy. The tradition of philosophical psychology starting from Aristotle’s De anima entered the Latin discussions gradually during the latter half of the twelfth century and the first half of the thirteenth century. It became the dominant framework for the discussions about concepts until Ockham. In addition to De anima itself, the basic sources included a work by Avicenna, also known as De anima, as well as Averroes’ Long Commentary on Aristotle’s De anima. In the De anima model, the intellectual cognition of an external object, for example, a horse, is based on the presence of the object’s form in the intellect. The intellect can think of a horse because it becomes actualized by the same form that makes the horse into a horse. There was a complex story to be told about how the form of the object gets into the intellect. A standard account of concept acquisition in the latter half of the thirteenth century would begin with 762 M Mental Word/Concepts are acquired in the possible intellect, which is the power of intellectual thinking in humans. When we move on to consider what takes place within the (possible) intellect, the picture will get complicated. There were competing views about what kinds of entities in the mind relating to concepts one should postulate and how they should be described. The psychological De anima tradition provided the main framework for the discussions, but other influ- ences were also involved. Importantly, attempts were made to relate the De anima-based model to the theolog- ically oriented doctrine of the interior word (verbum). The intelligible species are universal representations of objects in the intellect, and some scholastic thinkers iden- tified them as concepts. However, the standard view in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth century was to con- sider the intelligible species and the concept as two distinct entities. The writings of Thomas Aquinas were instrumen- tal in the development of this view, even though the details of his account vary from one work to another. In some important passages, he distinguishes (1) the intelligible species, (2) the act of understanding, and (3) the concept (see, e.g., De potentia, q. 8, a. 1, co.). Here, the intelligible species precedes the act of understanding and makes it possible, whereas the concept (conceptio intellectus) is seen as the end product of the act. Aquinas identifies the con- cept as the verbum, and it is the likeness and representa- tion that mediates in signification between the spoken word and the extramental thing. There was extensive dispute about issues related to concepts in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth cen- tury. Much of the argument revolved around Aquinas’ ideas, but there were also some highly original contribu- tions. Peter John Olivi was among the early critics of Aquinas’ views. He identified the act of understanding as the concept and denied that there are either intelligible species preceding such acts or some end products termi- nating them. Other critics of the intelligible species included Henry of Ghent and Godfrey of Fontaines. Against these criticisms, John Duns Scotus defended the necessity of postulating intelligible species that are distinct from concepts and precede the acts of under- standing. Scotus and some others discussed the mode of existence that concepts, as end products or objects of acts of understanding, have. It was assumed have a special mode of being: they exist ‘‘objectively’’ ‘‘intentionally’’ by being objects of understanding, whereas the intelligible species are forms inhering in the intellect. The thought of William of Ockham opens a new phase in the medieval discussion about concepts. He developed an alternative to the De anima-based approach on the Bibliography Primary Sources Abelard Peter (1994) Tractatus de intellectibus, ed. Anselm of Canterbury (1946) Monologion, ed. Schmitt vol 1. Nelson, Edinburgh Aquinas Thomas (1949) De potentia, ed. Pession PM. disputatae, vol 2. Marietti, Turin Aristotle (1965) De interpretatione vel Periermenias. ed. Minio-Paluello L. Aristoteles Latinus 2.1. Bruges/Paris Augustine (1968) De trinitate, ed. Mountain WJ. Corpus Series Latina 50–50A. Brepols, Turnhout Averroes (1953) Commentarium Magnum in Aristotelis de Anima libros, ed. Crawford FS. Corpus Commentariorum Averrois in Aristotelem, Versionum Latinarum Volumen VI, 1. Medieval Academy of Amer- ica, Cambridge Avicenna (1968/1972) Liber de anima seu sextus de Van Riet S. Avicenna Latinus. Brill, Leiden Boethius (1877/1880) In librum Aristotelis Peri ermeneias commentarii, Prima editio & Secunda editio, ed. Meiser C. Teubner, Leipzig Duns Scotus John (1950–1963) Ordinatio, I, ed. Commissio Scotistica. Opera omnia, vols 1–6. Typis Polyglottis Vaticanis, Vatican Godfrey of Fontaines (1904–1937) Quodlibeta, ed. Philosophes Belges, vol 2–5, 14. Institut Supérieur Louvain Henry of Ghent (1520) Summa quaestionum ordinariarum, ed. Badius J. Paris (repr. Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure, 1953) Olivi Peter John (1922–1926) Quaestiones in secundum librum Sententiarum, ed. Jansen B. Bibliotheca Franciscana vols 4–6. Collegium S. Bonaventurae, Quaracchi William of Ockham (1974) Summa Logicae, ed. Boehner Ph et al. Opera philosophica, vol 1. Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure Secondary Sources Kenny A (1993) Aquinas on mind. Routledge, London King P (2007) Abelard on mental. Am Cathol Philos Quart 81:169–187 Lagerlund H (ed) (2007) Representation and objects eval philosophy. Ashgate, Aldershot Magee J (1989) Boethius on signification and mind. Brill, Leiden Marenbon J (1987) Later medieval philosophy (1150–1350). An intro- duction. Routledge, London Paissac H (1951) Théologie du Verbe. Saint Augustin Cerf, Paris Panaccio C (1999) Le discours intérieur. De Platon ham. Seuil, Paris Panaccio C (2004) Ockham on concepts. Ashgate, Aldershot Pasnau R (1997) Theories of cognition in the later middle ages. Cam- bridge University Press, Cambridge Pasnau R (2002a) Thomas Aquinas on human nature. A study of Summa theologiae Ia 75–89. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge Pasnau R (ed) (2002b) The Cambridge translations of sophical texts, vol III: Mind and knowledge. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge Perler D (2002) Theorien der Intentionalität im Klostermann, Frankfurt am Main Pini G (1999) Species, concept, and thing: theories of signification in the second half of the thirteenth century. Mediev Philos Theol 8:21–52 764 M Mereology that composes something else. Accordingly, a whole is either anything that is divisible or anything that is composite. Medieval Aristotelian treatments of parts and wholes tend to start by distinguishing between different types of whole. The source of these distinctions ultimately comes from Aristotle’s Metaphysics (V, 26). The proximate source for the medieval version of the division of ‘‘whole’’ is Boethius’ De divisione where he proclaims that a whole can be a continuous thing (such as a body or a line), a discrete thing (such as a crowd or pile), a universal, or a thing that consists of ‘‘powers of some kind’’ (such as a soul) (887d–888a). Boethius’ treatment of the division of ‘‘whole’’ is refined by subsequent medieval philosophers into a standard threefold division (Compendium logicae Porretanum III.12, 72–79): " Among wholes, some are universal, some are some are potential. An example of a universal Animal. An example of an integral whole example of a potential whole is a soul. wholes, some are aggregated out of their example, a tree – while some are disaggregated example, a flock. And among the aggregated some are continuous – for example, a stone contiguous – for example, a fence – successive – for example, a time. Almost without exception, medieval philosophers divide ‘‘whole’’ into these three classes: the universal whole, the potential whole, and the integral whole. Some, like the author of the Compendium, provide a further elaboration of the integral whole. The better medieval philosophers tend to endorse something like the Compendium’s thoroughly articulated division of wholes. Different parts correspond to these different wholes. Again, the sources are ultimately Aristotle’s Metaphysics (V, 25) and Boethius’ De divisione (888a–c). Anyone who examines medieval treatments of parts will quickly find that there are some differences in terminology. But at root, the framework is essentially the same. According to this framework, there are three basic types of whole and at least three basic types of part: 1. Subjective parts of universal wholes 2. Potential parts of potential wholes 3. Integral parts of integral wholes A wide variety of objects can be integral wholes. Piles, flocks, artifacts, and substances are all integral wholes. Aquinas even argues that the virtue of prudence and the act of penance have integral parts (Summa theologiae II–II, up the bronze of the statue and you still have bits of bronze. No matter how medieval philosophers divide up the types of parts, there is all but universal agreement that each different kind of part is specific to a type of whole. Subjective parts are only parts of a universal whole. Inte- gral parts are only parts of an integral whole. Socrates can be an integral part of a crowd in the Agora, and he is a subjective part of the species Human Being. But Socrates cannot be an integral part of Human Being. Moreover, it is generally agreed that these three basic parts are irreduc- ible. Integral parts cannot be reduced to subjective parts. Potential parts are irreducible to either subjective parts or integral parts. The only philosophers who take exception to the thesis that types of parts are irreducible are the collectio theorists, who explicitly argue that a universal is a kind of integral whole and that subjective parts are reducible to integral parts (Pseudo-Joscelin De generibus et speciebus }} 85–143 [=Cousin 1836:524–537]). But very few medieval philos- ophers are collectio theorists, especially after Abelard famously critiques the theory (Freddoso 1978; Henry 1984, }4.5). We find the threefold distinction between integral wholes, universal wholes, and potential wholes throughout the medieval period and in both logical and metaphysical treatments of parts and wholes. In addition to these three basic types of parts and wholes, later medieval logicians offered a different taxonomy of parts and wholes (Peter of Spain Tractatus V.11–18: 63–67; Radulphus Brito Commentary on De differentiis topicis II, q. 9; Lambert of Auxerre Logica:126–127; Buridan Summulae 6.4.2): (a) The universal whole (b) The integral whole (c) The whole in quantity (d) The whole in a respect (in modo) (e) The whole in place (in loco) (f) The whole in time One of the notable features of the logician’s taxonomy is the absence of the potential whole. This may be because a potential whole is of little interest to the logician. Or it may be that the logical behavior of a potential whole is reducible to one of the other types of whole (cf. Lambert of Auxerre Logica:130). The wholes that correspond to items (c) through (f) reflect the medieval realization that the adjective ‘‘whole’’ (totus/-a/-um) can have a distributive function. Hence, the whole in quantity is the sense of ‘‘whole’’ that acts as a quantifier ranging over individuals, as for example 766 M Mereology Some medieval philosophers seem to suggest that the predicative relationship that obtains between a part and its whole is itself merely a sign that some deeper relation obtains between the two items. Aquinas, for example, suggests some deeper relations that explain what it is to be an integral part of something, what it is to be a potential part of something, and what it is to be a subjective part of something (Summa theologiae I, q. 77, art. 1; and III, q. 90, art. 3, responsio): 1. x is a subjective part of y because the total power of y is present to x. 2. x is a potential part of y because the total applies to x, but the total power of y does not. 3. x is an integral part of y because neither essence, nor the total power of y is present singularly. Aquinas implies that the relations spelled out in (1)–(3) ground the various predicative relations that obtain between parts and wholes. Aquinas’ characterization the differences between the types of wholes and parts also attempts to account for the peculiar behavior of potential wholes. Potential wholes are predicable of their potential parts – that is, the rational soul and the vegeta- tive soul are both soul – but the potential parts do not belong to the same species. The rational power of the soul has a different definition than the vegetative power. Other philosophers who appeal to the predicative criterion omit mention of the potential whole. A second criterion that medieval philosophers some- times offer is this: an integral whole always ‘‘draws together,’’ or ‘‘embraces’’ (comprehendere), whereas a universal whole does not embrace a quantity (Abelard Dialectica 546.21–27). Notice that this criterion does not require that the parts themselves possess any quantity. For example, an angel is immaterial, and hence, does not possess a quantity. Nonetheless, one integral whole out of two angels, since that whole has a quantity, namely, a number. A third way to distinguish between the universal whole and the integral whole is by determining whether the parts actually compose the whole (see William of Ockham Expositio in librum Porphyrii 2.16 [Opera philosophica II, 54]; John Buridan Summulae 6.4.4). On this view, the parts of a universal do not strictly speaking compose the whole, whereas the parts of an integral whole do literally compose the whole. That is, in order to construct an integral whole, one needs to first find some parts. A universal is not a construction out of particulars. One does not need to first gather together some particular humans in order to make the universal Human Being. But some medieval philosophers consider an even stron- ger reading, namely, that in order for this whole to exist at t, these parts (and no others) must exist at t. Boethius suggests this stronger thesis in his treatments of parts and wholes (De divisione 879c): " If a part of the whole perishes the whole, whose destroyed, will not exist. But if the whole perishes parts, although scattered, remain. Boethius reiterates his claim that the removal of a part removes the whole in his treatments of the topics (In Ciceronis topica III, 331.23–29 and I, 289.35–39). Taken at his word, the thesis is remarkable, for it suggests that if Socrates’ fingernail is a part of Socrates, then the removal of the fingernail removes Socrates. There is an innocent way to interpret Boethius’ maxim that the removal of the part entails the removal of the whole. In his Metaphysics, Aristotle notes that one sense of ‘‘x is whole’’ is that x is complete (V, 26, 1023b26–27). Accordingly, if one were to remove y from the whole of which it is a part, the whole consisting of y and some other parts is removed. For example, if I cut off Socrates’ finger, the whole that consists of Socrates’ finger as well as all of his other parts is compromised. But this just means that Socrates has been ‘‘mutilated’’ (cf. Aristotle Metaphysics V, 27). The removal of Socrates’ finger does not entail the destruction of Socrates. Radulphus Brito seems to have this interpretation of Boethius’ maxim in mind. He claims that in the case of heterogeneous wholes, if one part of the whole is destroyed, the whole itself is not destroyed, but the ‘‘shape of the whole’’ is (Commentary differentiis topicis’’ II q. 9:45). Other philosophers insist that Boethius’ rule must be restricted in some manner. Most commonly, the rule is restricted in this way: the whole is removed only if one removes a ‘‘principal’’ part. If one were to amputate Soc- rates’ right hand, Socrates would not cease to exist. He would merely lack a hand. Hence, a hand is a ‘‘secondary part.’’ Yet, if someone were to remove Socrates’ heart or brain, Socrates will be destroyed. Thus, hearts and brains are ‘‘principal parts.’’ The distinction between principal and secondary parts is in place by the middle of the twelfth century (Pseudo-Joscelin De generibus }} 6–10 [=Cousin 1836:507–508]; anonymous Introductiones maiores Mon- tane 71va–72rb). The restriction of the Boethian maxim to principal parts is common throughout later Scholastic treatments of mereology (cf. Buridan Summulae 6.4.4; Joachim Jungius Logica Hambergensis XI, }} 16–18). What often underwrites this distinction between prin- cipal and secondary parts is a metaphysical commitment to forms that are not dependent upon their matter. 768 M Mereology preserve the persistence of the object through change, provided that the substantial form of the horse can play the role of a principal part, for in his Summulae Buridan endorses the distinction between principal and secondary parts (6.4.4). Or it could be that Buridan fol- lows Albert of Saxony’s line when it comes to nonhuman substances. The extreme view of persistence held by Abelard and Albert of Saxony (and perhaps Buridan) threatens the Aristotelian distinction between substantial and acciden- tal change. Strictly speaking, we do not have one sub- stance, but rather a succession of substances loosely unified by three facts: these successive beings have some of the same parts, this line of succession is continuous, and each member in the line of succession belongs to the same species of substance. Abelard and Albert of Saxony resort to some interest- ing antirealist strategies to maintain at the least the appearance of Aristotelian orthodoxy. First, all three phi- losophers make an exception for human beings. Personal identity is guaranteed by the persistence of the intellective soul (Abelard Dialectica 552.36–37; Albert Quaes. in phys. I, q. 8:125, and p. 130). When it comes to other objects, such as houses and horses, Abelard suggests that these items are convenient fictions, that is, conceptual items constructed from ephemeral things. They are analogous to days and utterances, which strictly speaking do not exist since their putative parts do not exist all at once (Arlig 2007:esp. 217–223). Albert denies that his analysis entails that every mereological change entails substantial change, but he does so by reinterpreting substantial change. Sub- stantial change occurs only in those cases where cific substantial name is changed (op. cit.:128). So long as one can apply the name and definition of ‘‘horse’’ to the whole in question, no substantial change has occurred. Given that most medieval philosophers do not endorse an unrestricted reading of the claim that the whole is posterior to its parts, it is interesting to note that they appeal to this very principle in order to demon- strate the absolute simplicity of God (Anselm Monologion 17; Anselm Proslogion 18; Aquinas Summa theologiae I, q. 3, a. 7; Maimonides Guide of the Perplexed II, prop. 21 and II, 1). These philosophers argue that if something is complex, then that thing has parts. But if something has parts, then that thing is posterior to and depends upon its parts. Hence, if God is complex, then God has parts and God depends upon these parts. If God depends upon any x, then x is a higher form of being than God is. So, if God is complex, then God is not the highest form of being. But God is the supreme being. Therefore, God cannot possess any parts whatsoever. God is absolutely simple. Medieval the truest sort of unity one finds in the sublunar world (Aquinas Summa theologiae I, q. 76, art. 8). In the case of substances, the whole is clearly not the sum of its integral parts. First, a substance is not identical to the elements that make it up, since when the substance exists, its parts exist only in potentiality. As for the functional parts, which exist in act only when the whole exists, the sum of these is not identical to the whole, since the whole consists of all the parts plus something that is not a part, but rather a principle, namely the soul (Aquinas In Metaphys. expositio VII, lectio 17, sections 1674–1680). It would also be wrong to suppose that Abelard or Albert of Saxony think that an integral whole is identical to its parts. Abelard presents the clearest illustration of this point. Abelard admits that it is not always sufficient to gather together the parts in order to create a whole. Some wholes require the imposition of structure in order to bring about the existence of the whole (Logica ingredientibus II, 171.14–17; Dialectica 550.36–551.4). A house, for example, is a collection of boards, nails, and bricks that have the right arrangement. While this arrangement is not a part, it is a difference maker. Abelard claims that a house and the parts that compose it are the ‘‘same in being (essentia) and in number,’’ but they are ‘‘distinct in property’’ (Theologia Christiana III, }} 139–154: 247–253; cf. Brower 2004; King 2004:85–92; Arlig 2005:165–194). Essentially, certain characteristics are true of, or can be predicated of the thing, which are not true of its matter, and vice versa. But this fact does not entail that the matter and the thing are numerically dis- tinct entities, for x is the same in being as y if and only if every part of x is a part of y and every part of y is a part of x. If x is the same in being as y, then x is numerically the same as y. Therefore, the house is numerically the same as its parts, even though the house is not identical to its parts. The claim that the whole is something over and above its parts is, in Abelard’s view, too unrefined to capture the relations that obtain between a thing and its parts. Several medieval authors consider a specific puzzle that is generated by the identification of a whole with its parts, namely the Problem of the Many (Abelard Theologia Christiana III, } 153: 252; Pseudo-Joscelin De generibus }} 22–25 [=Cousin 1836:511–513]; Albert of Saxony Quaes. in Arist. physicam I qq. 7–8, and Sophismata 46, 25va–vb). Contemporary philosophers perhaps best know this puz- zle as Peter Geach’s puzzle concerning Tibs and Tibbles (Geach 1980:215). Assume that Socrates’ body is perfectly intact: he has all his limbs, and their parts. Now consider every part of Socrates’ body except one finger. Call this whole W. W is not numerically the same as Socrates, so it appears that W and Socrates must be numerically distinct. 770 M Mereology See also: ▶ Albert of Saxony ▶ Boethius ▶ Boethius’ De topicis differentiis, Commentaries on ▶ Form ▶ John Buridan ▶ Logic ▶ Metaphysics ▶ Peter Abelard ▶ Peter of Spain ▶ Sophisms ▶ Substance, Accident and Modes ▶ Syncategoremata ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ Trinitarian Logic ▶ Universals ▶ Walter Burley ▶ Wil- liam of Ockham Bibliography Primary Sources Abelard Peter (1919) Logica ‘ingredientibus’, Porphyrium. In: Geyer B (ed) Peter Abaelards Philosophische Schriften. I. Die Logica ‘Ingredientibus. Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie Aschendorffshen Buchhandlung, Münster Abelard Peter (1921) Logica ‘ingredientibus’, Praedicamenta Aristotelis. In: Geyer B (ed) Peter Abaelards Philosophische Schriften. I. Die Logica Glossen zu den Kategorien, Beiträge zur des Mittelalters 21, pt 2. Aschendorffshen Abelard Peter (1933) Logica ‘nostrorum petitioni super Porphyrium. In: Geyer B (ed) Peter Schriften. II. Die Logica ‘nostrorum petitioni zu Porphyrius. Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters, vol 21, no 4. Aschendorffshen Buchhandlung, Münster Abelard Peter (1954) De divisionibus incipit. filosofici. Fratelli Bocco, Milan Abelard Peter (1969) Theologia Christiana. In: Christianorum Continuatio Mediaevalis, vol Abelard Peter (1970) In: de Rijk LM (ed) Dialectica, 2nd edn. Van Gorcum, Assen Albert of Saxony (1490) Sophismata. George Vuolf, Paris Albert of Saxony (1999) In: Patar B (ed) Expositio Aristotelis Physicam ad Albertum de Saxonia quaestiones, books I–III. Éditions Peeters, Louvain-Paris Anonymous (1983) In: Ebbesen S, Fredborg KM, pendium Logicae Porretanum; Cahiers de l’Institut Grec et Latin 46:1–93 Anonymous (n.d.) Introductiones Montanae maiores. MS Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale cod. lat.15141 Anselm (1946) In: Schmidt FS (ed) Opera omnia. Thomas Nelson, Edinburgh Aquinas (1888–1906) Summa theologiae. In: Opera omnia. Iussu impensaque Leonis XIII, P.M. edita, vols Polyglot, Vatican Aquinas (1968) In: Robb JH (ed) Quaestiones tute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto Aquinas (1971) In: Cathala M-R, Spiazzi RM (eds) metaphysicorum Aristotelis expositio, 2nd Rome Boethius (1833) In Topica Ciceronis commentaria. Cicero Opera Omnia, vol 5, pt 1. Orelli, Fuesslini, Turin Boethius (1990) De topicis differentiis. In: differentiis und die byzantinische Rezeption Eine Pachymeres-Weiterbearbeitung der Holobolos-Übersetzung. Corpus Philosophorum Medii Aevi Philosophi Byzantini, vol 5. The Academy of Athens/Librairie J. Vrin, Athens/Paris Henry DP (1985) Abelard’s mereological terminology. In: Bos EP (ed) Mediaeval semantics and metaphysics: studies Rijk. Ingenium, Nijmegen, pp 65–92 Henry DP (1991) Medieval mereology. Bochumer Studien zur Philosophie, vol 16. B. R. Grüner, Amsterdam King P (1994) John Buridan’s theory of individuation. Individuation in scholasticism: the later Middle ter-reformation, 1150–1650. SUNY, Binghamton, King P (2004) Metaphysics. In: Brower J, Guilfoy K companion to Abelard. Cambridge University Press, pp 65–125 Kretzmann N (1982) Syncategoremata, exponibilia, sophismata. In: Kretzmann N et al (eds) The Cambridge history of later medieval philosophy. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, Mann W, Varzi AC (eds) (2006) Special issue: parts 103(12):593–754 Pluta O (2001) Buridan’s theory of identity. In: Thijssen JMMH, Zupko J (eds) Metaphysics and natural philosophy of John Buridan. E. J. Brill, Leiden, pp 49–64 Stump E (1982) Topics: their development and absorption quences. In: Kretzmann N et al (eds) The Cambridge medieval philosophy. Cambridge University Press, pp 273–299 Zupko J (2003) John Buridan: portrait of a fourteenth-century arts master. University of Notre Dame Press, Notre Dame Metaphysics ANDREW W. ARLIG Department of Philosophy Brooklyn College of The City University of New York Brooklyn, NY USA Abstract This article surveys some of the major issues in medieval metaphysics. It examines at length medieval positions on the nature and scope of metaphysics, especially in relation to theology. This article then briefly surveys some of the major topics that exercised the minds of medieval thinkers, including the transcendentals, the categories, existence, universals, ontological reduction, individua- tion, material constitution, identity, persistence, and modality. In the collection of books known as the Metaphysics, Aristotle provided several characterizations of this science. In book I (A), Aristotle claimed that the fruit of the highest philosophical investigation is a ‘‘wisdom’’ concerning the first causes and principles of things. In book IV (G), 772 M Metaphysics as it is being which was to be extremely influential in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Avicenna observed that metaphysics could not be solely about God or about substance. The subject of meta- physics cannot be God, because the subject of any science is something whose existence has been postulated at the outset of the investigation; a science only studies the states and properties of its subject. But the existence of God cannot be postulated at the outset of metaphysical study (for no other science has established His existence); rather, the existence of God is something that is sought in meta- physics (Avicenna, The Metaphysics of al-Shifā’ (The Healing), I, 1). Likewise, the subject of metaphysics be the first principles and causes of substances. They too are the things that the science seeks after, not what it has already postulated. Finally, if metaphysics were solely about substance, then metaphysics would fail to be fully general. It would only study being under one of its aspects, namely, substance, and not being in general. Metaphysics would not be the highest science; it would be a science that is subordinate to some yet unspecified science that studies being in general. Avicenna concluded that subject of metaphysics is being inasmuch as it is being: some of the science will study the causes of being, some of it will study the acci- dents, some of it the First Cause, and some of it the starting points of the other sciences, all of which also study being but under one aspect or another (Metaphysics, I, 2). Avicenna’s conception of metaphysics was very influ- ential, but it did not go unchallenged. Averroes, for exam- ple, attacked Avicenna’s reason for rejecting the notion that God is the subject matter of metaphysics (In I Phys., com. 83 [Aristotelis Opera cum Averrois commentariis, IV, 47v]). Avicenna is mistaken, for the demonstration of the existence of the separate substance, which Averroes iden- tified with the first form and the final cause of everything else, has already occurred by the end of the study of physics (cf. Aristotle, Physics VIII). Accordingly, Averroes seems to have endorsed the opposing claim that the proper and primary subject of metaphysics is the separate substance, or God. Aquinas agreed with Avicenna that the subject matter of metaphysics was being qua being, or ‘‘being (ens commune) (In Metaphys., Proem.). But Aquinas refused to admit that God is included in the subject matter of metaphysics. God and angels are examined in meta- physics, but only indirectly as the principles and causes of being qua being (In De trinitate, q. 5, a. 4; cf. Wippel 2000:15–22). Divine things may be studied in and of themselves, and not merely as principles of other things, (Rationality and being capable of laughter are co-exten- sional, but different secundum rem.) But while there was disagreement over whether the transcendentals were the same secundum rem, there was near unanimous assent that the intensions of the transcendentals were not equivalent. The transcendentals had a special appeal to Scholas- tics. It did not escape their notice, for example, that the transcendentals corresponded to some of the fundamental names of God. The transcendentals and their status also had clear implications for other theological and philo- sophical topics. For example, there was the problem of the metaphysical status of evil. For if x is a being only to the extent that x is good, then it seems that evil (or at least pure evil) is unreal. It was often felt that there was an ordering among the transcendentals, and that ‘‘being’’ (ens) was first in the hierarchy. In general, however, medieval thinkers were careful not to treat ens as the highest kind, for they were mindful of the Aristotelian doctrine that being is not a genus. According to the orthodox Aristotelian line, the range of ways that something could be a being was too diverse for all beings to share some real element in com- mon. Moreover, there was one being who, for both phil- osophical and theological reasons, could not have anything in common with all other beings. This transcen- dent being was God. This consensus and the weight of the authorities behind it should be noted in order to fully appreciate John Duns Scotus’ idiosyncratic and contro- versial doctrine of the univocity of ens. Scotus took the unusual step of asserting that meta- physics was the study of a univocal conception of being (Ordinatio I, d. 3, q. 3; translation in Scotus 1987:5–8). In particular, Scotus asserted that there is one notion of being underlying both the notion of infinite being (i.e., God) and finite being (i.e., creation). Most of Scotus’ contem- poraries asserted the absolute transcendence of God. There was not one notion of being, but rather two: one proper to God and one proper to creatures. But Scotus thought that this doctrine entailed intractable epistemo- logical difficulties. God could not be naturally known by us unless being were univocal with respect to both the uncreated and the created. Scotus’ predecessors tried to avoid the conclusion that being is an equivocal concept and, hence, the epistemological difficulties that Scotus identified by asserting some form of the doctrine of anal- ogy. The notion of being proper to creatures is secondary to and derived from the notion of being proper to God. Scotus thought that the analogical account of being was incoherent; it either resolved into a commitment to equivocity or into a commitment to a univocal, common conception of being. 774 M Metaphysics Other philosophers attempted to reduce the categories in one fashion or another. Henry of Ghent observed that there are some accidents where it is not contradictory to conceive of them as existing without their subjects (namely, qualities and quantities), but that for most acci- dents it would be a contradiction to conceive of them as separate from their subjects (namely, those accidents belonging to the remaining seven categories). The first three categories (Substance, Quantity, and Quality) had not only their own proper mode of being, but also their own proper reality. The remaining categories had their own proper mode of being, but they were not distinct things from the first three kinds of beings (Pini 2005:71–73). Peter of John Olivi took this reductivist program one step further and determined that the cate- gories do not pick out distinct kinds of things (res), but only distinct ways of describing the same things. The categories, hence, were mind-dependent classifications (idem, 74–75). William of Ockham’s reduction of the categories was also quite radical. He reduced the real categories to two: substance and quality. In a series of arguments, Ockham attempted to demonstrate that entities belonging to one of the other eight categories were either not needed in order to explain semantic phenomena, or the positing of the existence of entities in some category led to a contradiction (for his arguments against quantity and relations, see Adams 1987, vol I, chaps. 6 and 7 respec- tively). Terms corresponding to the latter eight categories were merely indirect ways of speaking of the two kinds of items that are real, individual substances and individual qualities. It is a curious fact that Ockham did not apply the same reductivist strategy to qualities as well. Adams has suggested some philosophical reasons why quality might be irreducible (1987:277–285). Spade has argued that Ockham never explicitly employs the strategies suggested by Adams. The real motivation behind Ockham’s refusal to reduce away qualities seems to be theological (Spade 1999:105–106). Medieval thinkers not only worried about whether there were no fewer than ten categories, they also were aware that the categories may not exhaust all of reality. Many noticed that the ten categories did not have an obvious place for a number of important entities. For example, where do matter and the substantial differ- entiae fall in the categorial scheme? And what about God? In his commentary on the Categories, Boethius espoused a view, which traces back to at least Porphyry, that the Categories is restricted to composites of matter and form. It is not a scheme that can classify matter alone, or form alone, let alone simple, immaterial substances (in espousing a Neoplatonic theory of individuals. The nature itself is a separately existing Form. This Form is then copied in matter. These chunks of matter imprinted with the copy of the Form are those things that substand. The matter and the copy of the Form are parts of the concrete individual, and indeed they are essential parts of the indi- vidual, but they are not themselves per se beings. The matter needs the copy of the Form to be something, and this copy of the Form needs to be enmattered in order to be a copy of the Form. The dominance of Aristotelian philosophy in the Scholastic period meant that most philosophers rejected the Platonic conception of separately existing essences. Essences were only found in the mind or in individual beings. Given that the essence contributed to the existence of the individual, there was still the need to distinguish between the mode of existence of the essence as such and the individual. The Avicennian answer was to distinguish between the essence in itself and the essence in an existent. The essence considered in itself did not exist. It only had existence in so far as it was an essence in the mind or an essence in this individual. Avicenna, nonetheless, allowed for the essence to have some measure of mind-independent reality, for in itself it was indifferent with respect to this individual or that one. Avicenna’s position did not sit well with Scholastic thinkers, for in their view, if the essence itself had some sort of mind- independent reality, then in effect it has a minor form of existence. And if it has a minor form of existence, then the essence should have a minor form of unity. Generally speaking, there were two solutions to this dilemma: either deny that that essence in itself had any existence at all, or accept that the essence had a minor form of being, and hence a minor form of real unity. Aquinas chose the former strategy; Duns Scotus chose the latter strategy. Universals The generality of the discussions of being, the transcen- dentals, and the categories, strongly suggested to medieval thinkers that there are things that are both independent of the mind and really common to many individuals. The majority of medieval philosophers were ‘‘realists,’’ where this means that they thought that there was some sense in which there are mind-independent features (but not nec- essarily things) that are common to many. A small but influential group of philosophers rejected the thesis that there were any things or aspects that existed universally and mind independently. These philosophers are typically labeled as ‘‘nominalists,’’ since they generally argued that universality is a property of names (nomina) or concepts only. However, it should be stressed that no medieval 776 M Metaphysics reduction of the categories and antirealism about univer- sals are, and in the Middle Ages were sometimes taken to be, logically independent). Ockham’s reductivist program is often associated with his principle of parsimony (‘‘Ockham’s ham did not invent this principle (indeed, one can find versions of the principle in Aristotle), nor was he the only philosopher in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries who made use of the principle. Moreover, the importance of the principle of parsimony is often overestimated. As one commentator observes, no one advocated the postu- lation of unnecessary entities (Spade 1999:102). The real dispute was over precisely what entities were necessary. Much like contemporary forms of antirealism, medi- eval antirealists tried to determine what words actually pick out things and what words only appear to pick out things (cf. Normore 1985). Sentences that only appeared to commit someone to a certain kind thing were paraphrased into statements that did not commit one to things of this type. So, for example, sentences that seemed to commit one to quantities were transformed into sentences about substances and qualities existing in this or that way. But some commentators have wondered whether medieval antirealists actually achieved ontological econ- omy. Ockham, for example, seems to have substituted an ontology of modes for one of things. Even if that accusa- tion does not stick (see Adams 1987:306–310), it still appears that Ockham’s program cannot reduce away objective temporal, spatial, and causal ordering. Yet, Ock- ham insists that these features of reality are not things (Spade 1999:106–111). Abelard had a similar problem. He insisted that no thing is a universal, and yet universality is grounded in objective ‘‘agreements’’ things (cf. Tweedale 1976:204–209). Hence, in practice, those with antirealist tendencies often tacitly employed a ‘‘two-tiered’’ ontology (Spade, op cit.). Individuals and Individuation The corollary of any theory of universals is an account of particulars, or individuals. A full account of individuals would answer a number of questions about the extension and intension of ‘‘individual.’’ It would also include an account of what makes something an individual. Medieval philosophers were not always aware of the need to account for the extension and intension of ‘‘individual,’’ of them embarked upon sophisticated investigations of the cause, or principle, of individuation. The source of the search for a principle of individua- tion was often a theological controversy. Boethius, for example, considered the question of individuation as an Duns Scotus held that an individual differentia, or haecceity, is the cause of a thing being the very thing it is (Gracia 1994:284–291). Given that this haecceity does not affect or alter the formal content of the things nature, it is a non-categorial principle (King 2000:177–179). Finally, philosophers such as Peter Abelard, William of Ockham, and John Buridan argued that there is no prin- ciple or cause of individuation (Gracia 1994:373–376 and 397–430; King 2000:180–183, and King 2004). Everything that exists is already individual. Hence, there is no need to find a cause for their individuality. Composition, Identity, and Emergence Another cluster of metaphysical problems focused on the relation at a time between a thing and those items that compose the thing. One such problem was whether the whole is identical to the sum of its parts. Medieval answers to this question were often informed by the Aristotelian principle that there are degrees of unity. Material compos- ites were typically divided into three classes: aggregates, accidental unities, and substances. Aggregates were the weakest sort of unity, since they exist when some things are present in one location. A thing with a greater degree of unity exists when there are some things in one location and these things are arranged in the right way. These arrangements are due either to accidental forms, or to substantial forms. Composites of some things and an accidental form are accidental unities; composites of some things and a substantial form are substances. Among material composites, substances were thought to have the greatest degree of unity. Medieval philosophers generally agreed that an aggre- gate is identical to the sum of its parts, but there was considerable disagreement when they turned to accidental unities and substances. Most medieval philosophers thought that artifacts – even complicated ones such as houses – were accidental unities. They disagreed about whether an artifact was identical to the sum of its parts, due in some measure to a disagreement over the ontological status of relations. Those who thought that relations were things could answer that the artifact is not identical to the material out of which it is composed, for the composite has an additional part, the relation, which the sum of the material parts lacks. Those who thought that relations were not things could not make this claim, though there was still a feeling among some that it was improper to reduce the artifact to being merely the sum of its parts. Abelard, for example, thought that arrangements were not things, and hence they could not be parts of things. However, this does 778 M Metaphysics Dependence and Persistence Most medieval philosophers paid lip service to the maxim that the whole is ontologically posterior to its parts (cf. Boethius, De div. 879C). Although most, then, duly, restricted this claim to cover only some parts – the essen- tial or principal parts. Very few medieval philosophers flirted with forms of mereological essentialism. But the occasional philosopher did seem to endorse the thesis that a whole depends upon each one of its parts. Abelard, for example, insisted that every integral whole is composed of a unique set of integral parts (Henry 1991:92–151). This house must be composed out of these nails, these boards, and this cement. Given that each whole is composed of a unique set of parts, if any part is removed, that whole is destroyed. Another whole similar to the original might exist after the mereological change takes place, but strictly speaking the two wholes would not be identical. Some later medieval nominalists, such as Ockham and Buridan, also argued that even minute mereological changes bring about the destruction of most integral wholes, including nonrational animals (Normore 2006:751–753). According to these nominalists there are three senses of numerical sameness: there is a proper sense, a less proper sense, and an improper sense. Something is properly the same in number if all its parts remain the same and it neither acquires nor loses any parts. In this strictest of senses, no corruptible thing per- sists through a change of a material part. Something is less properly the same in number if its ‘‘most remains numerically the same. This is the sense that allows us to claim that Socrates is numerically the same man now as that man ten years ago, since Socrates’ intellective soul persists through the change (Buridan, In Metaphys. VII, q. 12, 48va). Finally, something is improperly the same in number if there is a continuous succession of beings that maintain a similar shape, disposition, and form. This improper mode of numerical sameness allows us to claim that the Nile River here today is numerically the same river as the Nile back in Caesar’s time. The nominal- ists claimed that plants and animals can only be numeri- cally the same in the third, improper sense, for these creatures do not have the sort of soul that can act as a guarantor of less proper identity. Time and Necessity Many of the topics that seemed to most excite medieval thinkers, such as the relation of Providence and Divine Omniscience to human freedom or demonstrations of the existence of God, involved modal notions. Often in the preliminaries of such discussions, one can find rich dis- cussions of the nature of possibility and necessity. all compossible combinations of things and contingently wills that one of these maximally consistent composites of things be made true. However, Scotus did not believe, as Leibniz did, that objects mirror their whole universe, nor did he have the contemporary notion of ‘‘truth in a world’’ (Normore 2003:155). Scotus’ synchronic conception of modality should haps be described as the doctrine of ‘‘the contingency what has not passed into the past’’ (Normore 2003:135), for like many medieval thinkers, Scotus accepted the claim that the past is necessary. This latter proposition, was not left unchallenged. In the twelfth century, Peter Damian famously defended the claim that God’s will is absolutely unconstrained. This meant that God could even change the past. But given that Damian started with a statistical understanding of modality, his position implied that God could violate the laws of logic. A popular solution to this dilemma was that God could not do impossible things; to be able to do the impossible would be a sign of impotency, not power. Peter Abelard, notoriously, argued that God could not do anything more or other than what He in fact does (Theologia ‘‘Scholarium’’ III, }} 27–60:511–526). More generally, medieval thinkers tried to strike the right balance between God’s power, God’s will, and human freedom. God must be the necessary, first cause of all creations, but the manner in which God’s creative activity is necessary cannot be such that it either compromises God’s very own freedom or human freedom. Conclusion Medieval metaphysicians were preoccupied with a variety of issues, many of which are still of interest to contempo- rary philosophers. This survey can only hint at the rich- ness and sophistication of this tradition. There are some current focal points of debate that have no direct medieval correlate. For example, medieval meta- physicians would not have been in a position to appreciate the debate between advocates of A- and B-theories of time. In general, medieval thinkers were realists about relations between causes and their effects – although, there were some who were skeptical of the necessary connection between cause and effect (most notably, al-Ġazālı̄ and the Ashʿarite mutakallimūn in the Arabic speaking world, and Nicholas of Autrecourt in fourteenth-century Europe). And no medieval philosopher was a thorough- going materialist or opponent of abstract objects. This article did not dwell upon medieval discussions of time, space, and to some degree change, because these topics lied outside the scope of metaphysics as it was tradi- tionally conceived. Nevertheless, this should not suggest 780 M Metaphysics, Byzantine Avicenna (2005) In: Marmura ME (ed and trans) healing’’ (Arabic text with English versity Press, Provo Boethius (1877/1880) In: Meiser C (ed) Commentarii in librum Aristotelis Peri Hermeneias. Teubner, Leipzig Boethius (1891) In Categorias Aristotelis libri (eds) Opera. Patrologiae cursus completas, Migne, Paris Boethius (1998) In: Magee J (ed and trans) De edition, translation, prolegomena, and Boethius (2000) In: Moreschini C (ed) De consolatione Opscula theologica. Saur, Munich/Leipzig Buridan John (1518) In Metaphysicen Aristotelis Minerva, Frankfurt a. Main, 1964) Damian Peter (1972) De divina omnipotentia. Lettre sur la Toute-Puissance Divine. Sources Éditions du Cerf, Paris Duns Scotus John (1966) Tractatus de primo principio. and trans) A treatise on God as first principle. Press, Chicago Duns Scotus John (1987) Philosophical writings (trans: Wolter A). Hackett, Indianapolis Duns Scotus John (1997) Quaestiones super libros metaphysicorum Aristotelis, Books I–IX, B. Ioannis Duns vols 3/4. Catholic University of America McGinnis John, Reisman David C (eds and trans) philosophy: an anthology of sources. Hackett, Spade Paul V (ed and trans) (1994) Five texts universals. Hackett, Indianapolis William of Ockham (1967–1986) In: Gál G Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure William of Ockham (1974–1988) In: Gál G Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure Secondary Sources Adams MM (1987) William Ockham, 2 vols. University of Notre Dame Press, Notre Dame Cross R (1995) Duns Scotus’s anti-reductionistic substance. Vivarium 33:137–70 Dumont SD (1992) Transcendental being: Scotus transcendentals in the Middle Ages, Gracia 11:135–48 Fakhry M (1984) The subject-matter of metaphysics: Sina (Avicenna). In: Marmura ME (ed) Islamic ophy: studies in honor of George F. Hourani. York Press, Albany, pp 137–147 Gracia JJE (1984) Introduction to the problem early Middle Ages. Philosophia, Munich Gracia JJE (1992) The transcendentals in the tion (Topos: the transcendentals in the Topoi 11:113–120 Gracia JJE (ed) (1994) Individuation in Scholasticism: Ages and the counter-reformation, 1150–1650. New York Press, Albany Henry DP (1991) Medieval mereology, Bochumer Studien zur Philosophie, vol 16. B.R. Grüner, Amsterdam King P (2000) The problem of individuation in 66:159–184 King P (2004) Metaphysics. In: Brower J, Guilfoy companion to Abelard. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, pp 65–125 in the latter half of the fourteenth century polished the harshness of this distinction by qualifying that it is ‘‘con- ceptual,’’ that is, points just to different aspects of a single being, whereas anti-Palamites argued against any sort of real distinction between God’s essence and acts. In the first half of the fifteenth century, a metaphysical quarrel between Scholarios’ Thomism and Plethon’s anti- Christian Platonism focused on whether things derive hierarchically from each other (Plethon) or each is created directly from God and used by Him as a ‘‘causa proxima’’ of this or that fact. To get a better picture of metaphysics in Byzantium, a lot of work has still to be done. Byzantine Metaphysics: Ens Reale or Fictum? If by ‘‘metaphysics’’ we mean the systematic into the nature of reality’’ or the rational attempt to ‘‘uncover what is ultimately real,’’ it may be argued that metaphysics did not exist in Byzantium. Indeed, since almost all Byzantine thinkers were officially Christians and produced more theological than philosophical writ- ings, their quest for the ultimate source of reality came full circle from its very beginning. For, in their minds, the ancient Greek (and Roman) ‘‘reasoned knowledge’’ (epistêmê) and ‘‘wisdom’’ (sophia), accessible through ‘‘reason’’ (logos) or, at least, not without by ‘‘religious faith’’ (pistis) in Revelation as a result, metaphysics and philosophy in general was substituted by theology, that is the theoretical elaboration of Christian religion. (This reservation is often philosophical character of Christian thought in its entirety.) Further, it has been argued that Byzantine thought failed to do even what its western counterpart is, by some (e.g., É. Gilson) optimistically, supposed to have achieved, that is, to produce some philosophical ideas (such as those by Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventure, and Duns Scotus) stimulated by the philosophically unquali- fied yet potentially fruitful content of Christian Revela- tion. This seems to a large extent true. Indeed, in the context of these two roughly contemporary Christian civ- ilizations, speculative thought has emerged and developed in different ways. In Europe, Medieval intellectual life succeeded a state of decline bordering on collapse (fifth to seventh centuries) and went on by constantly being stirred up by waves (ninth to thirteenth centuries) of acquaintance with several previously unknown individual pieces or bulks of philosophical, scientific, and theological literature through Latin translations (Greek Patristic authors, parts of the corpus Aristotelicum accompanied by some ancient Greek and Latin as well as Byzantine commentaries on them, Arabic treatises and 782 M Metaphysics, Byzantine universals are ‘‘bodies’’ or ‘‘corporeal’’ Photios argues against the Platonic ‘‘ideas’’ by using Aristotle’s famous ‘‘third man’’ argument argument that an intelligible reality, such as a Platonic ‘‘idea,’’ is by nature unable to account two or more sensible realities. True, Photios describes the Platonic ‘‘ideas’’ as a threat to God’s ceived as His freedom to create the world according to His own will only, without any constraint by this or that ‘‘exemplary form’’ potentially existent from His will. Further, his arguments are not original. Still, it is Photios himself who distinguishes the philosoph- ical arguments against the Platonic ‘‘ideas’’ logical ones; and he seems to have investigated the question at stake in depth, insofar as he not only under- stood Aristotle’s disagreement with Plato but also detected from some indirect sources what the Stoics held on the question and voted for it. In the second half of the eleventh century, John Italos and Eustratius of Nicaea, in the context of the revival of the Platonic tradition by Michael Psellos, seem to have been interested in the problem of the ontological status of universals and elaborated some version of Ammonius’ and Proclus’ relevant doctrines. It is not, however, quite clear whether they did adhere to some metaphysical tenets or, following Psellos’ policy, they just discussed the problem in the context of their teaching activity for learning pur- poses. Further, it is not quite clear if their application of some ancient doctrines of the ‘‘universals’’ theological (Christological and Trinitarian) matters allows for extracting from this context some lines of argument, taking them at their face value, and drawing the conclu- sion that Italos and Eustratios held this or that metaphys- ical doctrine. In late thirteenth century, a fierce attack versals’’ was launched by Nikephoros Choumnos, who rejected not only Plato’s ‘‘ideas’’ nent ‘‘forms’’ (On Matter and Forms, 242–316). True, Choumnos’ purpose was to exalt God’s power as the absolutely sufficient cause of the world’s existence and form; still, his description of the way God’s power acts is very close to that offered by Plotinus in Ennead II, 2, 1–2. Likewise, in the second half of the fourteenth century, Nicholas Kabasilas, being a strict Aristotelian with no Neoplatonic affinities, claimed that no being whatsoever can be regarded as a model of any other than itself; in so stating, he cut off any metaphysical tie between God and the created beings. Yet, cases like that of Photios, Choumnos, and Kabasilas were exceptions; during the second Byzantine separation between God’s ‘‘essence’’ and John VI Kantakouzenos (middle fourteenth century), influenced by Thomas Aquinas, regarded them as true only ex parte subjecti, that is, in the sense that our mind, since it is composite in this life, cannot help grasping the absolutely simple God in terms of multiplicity. Yet, all Palamites insisted, like Palamas himself (e.g., Triads III, 1, 24), that all beings, whether created or uncreated, con- sist not only of essence but also of act. In the first half of the fifteenth century, George Scholarios – Gennadios II – subscribed to John Duns Scotus’ distinctio formalis (archetypal distinction between God’s various properties, notwithstanding their absolute unity), which he found to be very close to that of Palamas. Palamas’ thought is also characterized by a peculiar doctrine of ‘‘light,’’ which may be deemed metaphysical. According to him, the stuff of the ‘‘rational of God, angels, and the human mind, is ‘‘light’’ or, at least, beings of this sort manifest themselves and are perceived as light (Triads I, 3, 8). In Late Byzantium, Augustine’s doctrine (De trinitate V-VII) of the inapplicability of Aristotle’s Categories on God found a place in the thought of authors such as Barlaam of Calabria and Gregory Palamas. It is not clear, however, if this testifies to an interest in metaphysical matters proper or forms part of a principally theological discussion. Mediated Versus Direct Derivation of Beings from the First Principle (Plethon Versus Scholarios) In the middle fifteenth century, a strong quarrel between George Gemistos (or, as he called himself, ‘‘Plethon’’), the only pagan Byzantine thinker, who adhered to Platonism and rejected the idea that Aristotle can be reconciled with Plato, and George Scholarios – Gennadios II – who defended Christianity in terms of his professed Thomism, took place. Plethon accused Aristotle of having an ‘‘athe- istic’’ conception of nature. He rejected Aristotle’s doc- trine of ‘‘entelechy’’ as the metaphysical principle immanently present in everything, causing the transition from ‘‘potentiality’’ to ‘‘actuality’’ perfect ‘‘form’’ of any particular being. In his own meta- physics, he postulates a hierarchy of beings, each of them responsible for the existence and the qualities of its infe- rior. Instead, therefore, of Aristotle’s supposed self- actualization (energeia in the sense of ‘‘entelechy,’’ that is being energês) of a being, Plethon spoke of energia as the productive action of every being, that is as its being 784 M Metochites, Theodore Further discussion on Byzantine metaphysics would probably endanger going far away from what research has as yet established. See also: ▶ Eustratios of Nicaea ▶ George Gemistos Plethon ▶ George Scholarios (Gennadios II) ▶ Gregory Palamas ▶ John Italos ▶ Michael Psellos ▶ Nikephoros Choumnos ▶ Photios of Constantinople Bibliography Primary Sources Chrestou Panaghiotes K et al (1962–1992) Gregoriou syggrammata, vols I–V. Thessaloniki, Kyromanos Duffy JM (ed) (1992) Michaelis Pselli Philosophica minora. Vol I: Opuscula logica, physica, allegorica, alia Leipzig Ioannou Perikles (ed) (1956) Ioannes Italos. (Aporiai kai lyseis). Editio princes. Studia Buch-Kunstverlag, Ettal Laourdas Vassilios, Westerink Leendert Gerrit (eds) (1986) Photii patriarchae Constantinopolitani Epistulae Amphilochiorum pars prima (‘‘Teubner’’). Leipzig Petit Louis, Sideridès Xenophon A, Jugie Martin complètes de Gennade Scholarios, vol Paris Secondary Sources Benakis LG (2002) Texts and studies on Byzantine (39 studies; see esp. No A6; B17; B18; B24) Fyrigos A (2007) Introduzione alla filosofia origini dell’era cristiana alle lotte interamente rielaborata ed aumentata. Pontificia Gregoriana, Roma Ierodiakonou K (2005) Metaphysics in the Byzantine of Nicaea on Universals. Quaestio 5:67–82 Ierodiakonou K (2007) John Italos on Universals. Sulla Tradizione Filosofica Medievale 18:231–2 Kapriev G (2002) Gibt es eine byzantinische Studien 51(1):3–28 Kapriev G (2005) Philosophie in Byzanz. Würzburg Oehler K (1969) Die Kontinuität in der Philosophie Untergang des byzantinisches Reiches. In: Philosophie und byzantinisches Mittelalter. Podskalsky G (1977) Theologie und Philosophie Tatakis BN (1949) La philosophie byzantine (fascicule II of É. Bréhier’s Histoire de la Moutafakis NJ, Indianapolis, 2003) Trizio M (2007) Byzantine philosophy as a contemporary ical project. Rech Théol Philos Médiév Metochites, Theodore ▶ Theodore Metochites Animals (wrongly attributed to Philoponus), on the Parts of Animals, on the Movement of Animals, and on the Progression of Animals. Finally, he wrote comments on the pseudo-Aristotelian treatise De coloribus, which are still unedited, and on the Politics, which have only partly survived. His commentaries seem to have been widely read, since his very words often appear in Byzantine com- mentaries and paraphrases from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century. Moreover, his comments on the Nicomachean Ethics were translated in 1246/1247 by Robert Grosseteste and became very influential in the West through the agency of Albert the Great. Michael’s commentaries are of historical interest, because they contain remarks about the contemporary political situation; for instance, there are sometimes ical remarks about the emperor as well as discussions of the contemporary educational system. Most importantly, though, his comments, especially those on Aristotelian treatises for which no other commentary has survived, are treasures of information for the history of philosophy, even if the interpretations suggested were not his own. Zervos has pointed out the Platonic influences on Michael, Praechter has contrasted Michael of Ephesos, the Aristotelian, with Michael Psellos, the Platonist, Preus has claimed that Michael tries to stay as close as possible to the spirit of Aristotle, Mercken has suggested that Michael’s Aristotelianism is never a militant one. It seems, therefore, that modern scholars have moved from regarding Michael as a Platonist to regarding him as an Aristotelian, even if not a militant one. But perhaps it is rather difficult to put a specific label to Michael. He is a commentator of Aristotle and thinks that Aristotle’s work is significant, so when he ventures to explain it he stays close to Aristotle’s spirit. This does not mean, how- ever, that he agrees with Aristotle in everything; he often follows Plato, Plotinus, and the Neoplatonists, or other ancient thinkers, like for instance Galen. Besides, as a Christian commentator, it seems impor- tant to him at places not to adhere uncritically to an Aristotelian, Platonic, or other ancient viewpoint. For example, the way he discusses the notion of eudaimonia indicates that his reading of Aristotle’s text is not close to Aristotle’s spirit, but is rather an interpretation by different traditions; Neoplatonism is certainly one, but Christianity is also present. According to Michael, there are two kinds of eudaimonia, namely the theoretical eudaimonia and the political or practical eudaimonia; the person who has the ethical or practical or political achieves political eudaimonia, whereas the person who has both the political and the theoretical virtues achieves theoretical eudaimonia. In other words, political 786 M Michael of Massa science and exegesis in Greek, Arabic, and suppl. Bulletin of the Institute for Classical pp 221–238 O’Meara DJ (2008) Spätanike und Byzanz: Michael von Ephesos. In: Horn C, Neschke-Hentschke A (eds) Politischer Aristotelismus. Die Rezeption von der Antike bis zum 19. Jahrhundert. Stuttgart, pp 42–52 Praechter K (1906) Review of Michael Ephesii animalium commentaria. Göttingische gelehrte 861–907 Praechter K (1931) Michael von Ephesos und Psellos. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 31:1–12 Preus A (1981) Aristotle and Michael of Ephesus progression of animals. Georg Olms, Hildesheim/New Zervos Chr (1920) Un philosophie neoplatonicien Psellos. Laroux, Paris Michael of Massa RUSSELL L. FRIEDMAN Institute of Philosophy De Wulf-Mansion Centre for Ancient, Medieval and Renaissance Philosophy Katholieke Universiteit Leuven Leuven Belgium Abstract Michael of Massa (d. 1337) was an Augustinian Hermit active in Paris (and elsewhere) in the 1320s and 1330s. His voluminous philosophical writings are nearly totally unpublished, but the studies of his thought to date show a keen mind and a characteristic approach to philosoph- ical and theological challenges. In the domain of divine foreknowledge and future contingents, Michael passed on to Gregory of Rimini the criticism leveled by Francis of Marchia at Peter Auriol. If this example is representative, then Michael had an important role in the development of Parisian thought in the second quarter of the fourteenth century. Michael of Massa is something of an enigma, and in several ways. He is certainly an enigma when it comes to his biography. We know that he was born in the region near Siena in Italy. He joined the Augustinian Hermits and was definitor at the Augustinian General Chapter held in Venice in 1332; he died, probably in Paris, in 1337. He never obtained the master’s degree, but recent research supports the position that he held lectures on the Sentences at Paris in the early 1330s (although they could have taken (Courtenay 2003). In addition, in his II Sentences Michael appears to attack William Ockham by name in the process of rejecting several aspects of Ockham’s programme of ontological parsimony, like the elimination of an indepen- dent category of quantity (Hödl 1975:245–252). Michael is an enigma in yet a third way, and this stems almost directly from the fact that we know so little about his thought: we have as yet no clear view of where he fits into later medieval intellectual history. The modern pio- neer in the study of the thought of the Augustinian Her- mits, Damasus Trapp, believed (Trapp 1956:163–175) that Michael was a representative of a dying intellectual move- ment in the Augustinian order, that of the ‘‘ultra- Aegedianists,’’ theologians who took the ideas of the Order’s teaching doctor, Giles of Rome, to extraordinary lengths. Ultra-Aegidians like Michael, according to Trapp, were opposed by more traditional Aegidians among the Augustinian Hermits, men like Gerard of Siena and Thomas of Strasbourg. For Trapp, the victorious tradi- tional Aegidians denied Michael the doctorate and effec- tively buried his thought and even his name. More recent research has begun to modify this view in significant ways. First, Schabel’s and Courtenay’s suggestion that Michael read the Sentences in the early 1330s has the effect of removing anything suspicious about the fact that Michael never received the doctorate: it was quite common for Augustinian Hermits to wait many years between finishing their Sentences lectures at Paris and being awarded the doctorate, and Michael simply died before that long waiting period was up. Second, in the few recent studies of Michael’s thought (Friedman forthcoming-a; Schabel 1998:168; Schabel 2002:251–252) no trace is found of ultra-Aegidianism (however that might be defined), and indeed faithfulness to Giles’ doctrine does not seem to be a major issue. Michael rejects, for example, Giles’ famous position concerning the real distinction between essence and existence, opting instead for a purely psychological distinction based on conceiving the same thing in two different ways, statically (per modum stantis = as essence) or ‘‘flowingly’’ (per modum fluentis = as existence) (Hödl 1975:240–245). A new picture of Michael’s place in later medieval thought is emerging from the area upon which he has been studied most intensely: future contingents and divine foreknowledge. Schabel (1998, 2000:esp. 214–220) has shown that Michael expands upon and clarifies not only the criticism that the Franciscan Francis of Marchia had made of the ideas of Peter Auriol but also Francis’ own view, even though Michael does not mention that Francis is the source of much of his position. Michael follows Francis in his rejection of Auriol’s views that propositions 788 M Michael of Massa that he calls ‘‘deductive’’ cognition 332–333; Friedman forthcoming-c). Further, Michael holds that the intellect’s first object in terms of generation, i.e., what first moves the intellect to its act, is the extramental singular. In arguing for this view, Michael employs a basic parallelism between the senses and the intellect, claiming that what first moves the also first move the intellect, and specifically arguing that singular accidents – e.g., this white patch move our intellect. The intellectual knowledge we get on this basis is as imperfect as it can be, it is completely unprocessed, and it requires the power of the agent intel- lect through a process of ‘‘abstraction’’ initial intellectual knowledge, categorizing it and making it useful in further intellectual activity (Friedman forth- coming-a). This view of Michael’s appears to be a part of a conceptualistic tendency to emphasize the singular in both ontology and epistemology, since the singular as singular is the foundation of all our knowledge, although, as mentioned, Michael rejects the parsimonious ontology often associated with ‘‘nominalism’’ that denies motion some reality of its own and eliminates quantity as a separate category. As the above indicates, Michael critically discussed the views of a good number of later medieval university thinkers, principal among them being Gerard of Siena, Peter Auriol, John Duns Scotus, Henry of Ghent, and Thomas Aquinas. Michael’s use of Francis of ideas without acknowledging his source shows that further research may uncover other influences on Michael. That Michael’s thought had an impact on his contemporaries is shown by the example of Gregory of Rimini (who also cited Michael in other contexts) as well as Augustinian Hermit Alphonsus Vargas of Toledo who in his own Sentences commentary mentioned Michael no fewer than 15 times (Trapp 1956:221). Further, the exis- tence of two separate fifteenth-century abbreviations of Michael’s I Sentences shows that he was being next century. But, again as the example of Gregory of Rimini shows, we will only have a full reckoning of Michael of Massa’s influence when we have made available in print and have studied much more of his work, in the process determining his role in the intellectual ment of his religious order and of the fourteenth century as a whole. It seems likely that his role will have been an important one. See also: ▶ Francis of Marchia ▶ Giles of Thought ▶ Gregory of Rimini ▶ Peter Auriol ▶ William of Ockham Schabel C, Courtenay WJ (2007) Augustinian Quodlibeta after Giles of Rome. In: Schabel C (ed) Theological Quodlibeta The fourteenth century, vol 2. Brill, Leiden, Tachau KH (1988) Vision and certitude in the age of epistemology and the foundation of semantics, 1250–1345. Brill, Leiden Trapp D (1956) Augustinian theology of the 14th century. Notes on editions, Marginalia, Opinions and Book-Lore. 6:146–274 Trapp D (1965) Notes on some manuscripts of the Augustinian de Massa ({1337). Augustinianum 5:58–133 (with question list from Michael’s I-II Sent.) Michael Psellos KATERINA IERODIAKONOU Department of Philosophy and History of Science University of Athens Athens Greece Abstract Michael Psellos was one of the most erudite and prolific thinkers of the Byzantine Middle Ages. His works include historical writings, philosophical treatises and commen- taries, theological writings, poems, speeches, legal, geo- graphical, military, and medical works as well as works on music. Psellos taught all branches of philosophy, by closely reading and commenting on the works of ancient philos- ophers, and especially on Aristotle’s logical treatises. At the same time he had a strong preference for Plato and the Neoplatonists, and especially for Proclus, whom he con- sidered as an authority among ancient authors. Psellos may not have been an innovator, but he systematically tried to reconcile the Christian dogma with the ancient philosophical traditions. In his attempts to advance philosophical learning he was often attacked concerning his theological orthodoxy, so that he often had to be careful to distance himself from heretical doctrines. Biography Psellos’ baptismal name was Constantine, but he is better known by his monastic name Michael. He was born in Constantinople in 1018 and died sometime after 1081. He studied under John Mauropous and among his fellow students were the future patriarchs John Xiphilinos and Constantine III Leichoudes as well as the later emperor Constantine X Doukas. Psellos worked in civil adminis- tration under Constantine IX Monomachos (1042–1055), 790 M Michael Psellos Although the amount of attention he paid on Aristotle’s treatises was significant, there is no doubt that Psellos had a strong preference for Plato and the Neopla- tonists. His works show that he carefully read Plotinus, Porphyry, Iamblichus, and especially Proclus, whom he considered as an authority among ancient authors. He also had a close familiarity with most of the Greek commen- tators, whom he treated as helpful guides to the works of Plato and Aristotle, and drew extensively from them, for instance Alexander of Aphrodisias, Ammonius, Philoponus, and Olympiodorus. In general, Psellos was well acquainted with the whole corpus of Greek philoso- phy, which at the time was somewhat larger than it is now, since he read and used some works which have since disappeared; for example, Proclus’ Commentary on Plotinus, his Commentary on the Chaldaean Oracles, Iamblichus’ On Pythagoreanism V–VII, and most proba- bly other works which have not yet been identified. In his philosophical views Psellos may not have been an innovator, but he systematically tried to reconcile the Christian dogma with the ancient philosophical tradi- tions. This at times required some independent thinking on his part, in the form of a slightly different argument from those found in the ancient texts or some interesting additions to already established views. But there is cer- tainly little evidence to support the view that he was a revolutionary or a cultural extremist in renouncing Christianity in favor of Hellenism. It is true, that in his attempts to advance philosophical learning he was often attacked concerning his theological doxy, so that he often had to be careful to distance himself from heretical doctrines, as for example writings on the Chaldaean Oracles. Thus, Psellos was instrumental in the revival of the serious study of ancient philosophy, but at the same time he was able to clear himself of the charge of heresy, in contrast to his student John Italos. Psellos strongly believed that the philosopher be a man of comprehensive learning and he often stressed on the importance of polymatheia, that is to say of a boundless curiosity and wide knowledge, which he invoked in order to defend the study of the pagan texts of antiquity. There are many passages in Psellos’ in which he underlines the importance of rational philosophical thinking, logical syllogisms, and especially demonstrations, as something which essentially character- izes human beings and helps them in their attempt to understand reality, and in particular nature. Psellos explicitly argued that logical reasoning does not bring one into conflict with Christian doctrine; on the contrary, the use of logical syllogisms is said to be Psellos Michael (1990) Epistola a Giovanni Xifilino, Bibliopolis, Naples Psellos Michael (1990) Epistola a Michele Kerulario, Bibliopolis, Naples Psellos Michael (1990) Historia syntomos, ed. Aerts Berlin/New York Psellos Michael (1992) Philosophica minora, 1. Opuscula allegorica, alia, ed. Duffy J. Teubner, Stuttgart Psellos Michael (1992) Poemata, ed. Westerink LG. Leipzig Psellos Michael (1994) Orationes hagiographicae, ed. Stuttgart/Leipzig Psellos Michael (1994) Orationes panegyricae, ed. Stuttgart/Leipzig Psellos Michael (2002) Theologica II, ed. Westerink Teubner, Munich/Leipzig Psellos Michael (2008) Kommentar zur Physik des Aristoteles, ed. Benakis LG. Corpus Philosophorum Medii Aevi. Commentaria in Aristotelem Byzantina. The Academy of Athens, Athens Tardieu Michel (1980) Un texte négligé de Psellus Chaldaı̈ques. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 73:12–13 Secondary Sources Athanassiadi P (2002) Byzantine commentators on the Chaldaean Ora- cles: Psellos and Plethon. In: Ierodiakonou K ophy and its ancient sources. Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp 237–252 Barber Ch, Jenkins D (eds) (2006) Reading Michael Browning R (1975) Enlightment and repression in Byzantium eleventh and twelfth centuries. Past Present 69:3–23 des Places E (1988) Quelques progrès recents des en relation surtout avec les Oracles Chaldaı̈ques. Orpheus, n.s. 9:344–348 Duffy J (2002) Hellenic philosophy in Byzantium and of Michael Psellos. In: Ierodiakonou K (ed) Byzantine and its ancient sources. Oxford University Press, Golitsis P (2007) Un commentaire perpétuel de Georges Physique d’Aristote, faussement attribué à Michel Psellos. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 100:637–676 Ierodiakonou K (2002) Psellos’ paraphrasis on Aristotle’s interpretatione. In: Ierodiakonou K (ed) Byzantine its ancient sources. Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp 157–181 Ierodiakonou K (2007) Rationality and revelation in century Byzantium. In: Homann E, Krüger A (eds) De usu rationis. Vernunft and Offenbarung im Mittelalter. Königshausen mann, Würzburg, pp 19–31 Joannou P (1956) Christliche metaphysik in Byzanz. tionslehre des Michael Psellos und Joannes Italos. et Byzantina 3. Buch-Kunstverlag Ettal, Ettal Kaldellis A (1999) The argument of Psellos’ chronographia. Kaldellis A (2007) Hellenism in Byzantium: the transformations identity and the reception of the classical tradition. University Press, Cambridge O’Meara D (1998) Aspects du travail philosophique Dissertatiunculae criticae. Festschrift für Königshausen & Neumann, Würzburg, pp 431–439 Papaioannou S (2000) Michael Psellos’s rhetorical Greek 24:133–146 Podskalsky G (1977) Theologie und Philosophie in Byzanz. Wolska-Conus W (1979) Les écoles de Psellos et de Xiphilin sous Constantin IX Monomaque. Travaux et Mémoires 7:223–243 792 M Mirrors for Princes refers with the term Fürstenspiegel to writings dealing with the virtues of the ideal ruler, with his duties and his behavior in general. The counterparts of Fürstenspiegel in other European languages, such as Miroir de princes, Specchio dei principi (and the Latin specula principum, although it is attested much later than the first examples of the genre) have also established themselves in present day scholarship. These terms can be used in a rather loose sense, referring to a very wide range of sources, even narrative or iconographic ones, or parts thereof, carrying notions concerning rulership, or in a stricter sense, limited to independent works explicitly aiming at instructing kings and lesser rulers about the virtues they should cul- tivate, their lifestyle, their duties, the philosophical and theological meaning of their office. Mirrors for Princes can therefore be used as a source for many purposes, from the reception of classical literary texts to the history of men- tality. They usually follow standard conventions so that their teachings about royal justice, princely virtues, and the like tend to give the impression of a continuous rep- etition of commonplaces. This notwithstanding the genre undergoes interesting changes during the Middle Ages. This article will focus on the aspects that can be brought to bear on the history of ethics and political philosophy. Roots in Late Antiquity and in the Earliest Medieval Centuries It is well beyond doubt that the genre is indebted to classical works and to patristic literature there is still lively discussion among specialists extent and relevance of such influence. Seneca played a very important role, but also Ambrose officiis) and Augustine, whose chap. 24 in Book City of God have been regarded as examples of Mirror for Princes, obviously in a very loose expression. Martin of Braga’s Formula vitae (570–579), mediated a virtue ethics strongly by Cicero and Seneca, and in the Middle Ages referred to as a work of the latter. The discussion duodecim abusivis (or abusionibus) saeculi, uted to Cyprian, but now dated to the seventh still open among scholars. It seems ascertained doubt, however, that this work of Irish origin especially with its treatment of the sixth abusio sine virtute) and of the ninth (rex iniquus), gian Mirrors for Princes. Carolingian Mirrors for Princes Although some writings by Alcuin during the reign of Charles the Great already bear some essential features of also about his view of the role of the pope in the church. Many scholars emphasize the similarities of this work to the Mirrors for Princes, describing it as a speculum paparum (mirror for popes). Bernard in fact devotes large sections of his treatise to the virtues of a good pope (the four cardinal virtues that are according to him nec- essarily connected), to the vices he should avoid in himself and correct in the faithful, and to the advisers he should choose, on the governance of the papal household. In addressing his advice to the pope, Bernard also expresses his ecclesiological views: on one hand, he stresses the fullness of power of the supreme pontiff, on the other, he claims that the exercise of this power should result in a service (ministerium) to the church and not in a dominion over it. In particular, the pope is morally bound to respect the rights of the local churches. Written by a cleric who had attended the French schools at the eve of the age of universities and had personal experience of life at lay and ecclesiastical courts alike, John of Salisbury’s Policraticus, even though it is not only a speculum principis in the strict sense, gave a renewed impulse to the genre, as Wilhelm Berges noted in his ground breaking survey, which accordingly begins its detailed analysis with this work. Deeply indebted to the interest in the classical heritage that is peculiar to the so- called twelfth century Renaissance, John draws not only on biblical texts, such as Deut. 17 (which was to become an almost topical reference for this literary genre) but also on authors from Antiquity. The Institutio Traiani that John attributes to Plutarch and inserts in his Policraticus is a fake, but it adds a distinct classical flavor to John’s political organicism, which conceived of the realm as a body. The hierarchical functionalism that is implicit in the detailed parallelism between limbs of the body and the parts of the regnum was also to exert a long lasting influ- ence on later specula. Historians of political thought have also taken great interest in John’s attitude toward unjust rulers, because he does not limit himself to contrasting the ideal ruler with the tyrant but supports the right to resist the tyrant, and even to kill him. According to some inter- preters this right is, in John’s mind, also a duty. John of Salisbury’s impact is particularly noticeable in Helinand of Froidmont’s work, completed before 1210. This former troubadour converted to the Cistercian Order devoted a chapter of his huge Cronica in 49 books to the issue De bono regimine principis, drawing on the Institutio Traiani and its organicism, but also on John’s conviction that the just king should rule according to the law. In turn, Helinand contributed to the diffusion of John of Salisbury’s views, thanks to the fact that his De bono regimine principis was excerpted in the following century 794 M Mirrors for Princes be numbered among the Mirrors for Princes. In fact, the treatise penned by this prolific Franciscan author shows the features of a mirror centered around a virtue ethics (more indebted to texts such as Morale dogma philosophorum than to Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics) designed especially for the ruler. Inserting in his text many exempla, John of Wales was deemed to exert a durable influence on the literary genre, if for no other reason than as an easily accessible collection of edifying anecdotes, mainly from classical Antiquity. Comparison of Vincent of Beauvais’ views concerning the origins of power with those maintained only a few years later by his confrére Thomas Aquinas offers a telling example of the changes brought about by the reception of Aristotelian practical philosophy. In the only extant part of his De regno (shortly after 1270), Aquinas offers an account of the origin of the political community that is strongly influenced by the Aristotelian pattern of the nat- ural, teleological development of the city from the smallest social community, the family. In Aquinas’ account of the establishment of power relations among human beings, the Fall does not play the role it played in Vincent. More- over, Aquinas describes different types of constitution. Monarchy is not the only possibility anymore, so that Aquinas, unlike Vincent, feels a need to argue in favor of the monarchical constitution as reflecting in the best way the order of nature and the universe. It is still controversial whether Aquinas, in defining the duties of the ruler also toward God, suggests that regnum should be subordinated to sacerdotium. Innovative as it might have been, Aquinas’ De regno remained but a fragment. With his De regimine principum (most probably around 1279) Giles of Rome fulfilled the task of writing a Mirror for Princes that exploited the opportunities offered by the reception of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics and Politics. The first book of the De regimine consists, in fact, in a description of the virtues of the ruler that is much indebted to Aquinas’ reception of the Nicomachean Ethics. At least for its first part, the third book relies heavily on Aristotle’s Politics. According to the traditional subdivision of practical philosophy into individual ethics, doctrine of the household (oeconomica), and politics, Giles, still lacking a Latin trans- lation of the pseudo-Aristotelian Oeconomica, draws on the Nicomachean Ethics, the Rhetoric, and the last two books of the Politics, especially as regards the upbringing of children. The De regimine principum presented a mirror that meets the expectations of an audience inter- ested in the newly discovered Aristotelian practical philos- ophy. At first glance, it could seem that Giles limited himself to summarizing Aristotle’s relevant works. On genres, such as the de potestate papae treatises, especially in the first half of the century, or the somnia literature, toward the end of the same century. This does not imply, however, that the production of specula principum ceases abruptly. On the contrary, political authors continued to recur to this genre to express their views during the Renaissance and well into modern times, even after Machiavelli and often against him. An overview of such development would exceed the scope of an article devoted to medieval Mirrors. It seems reasonable to conclude with some examples from the fourteenth century, before the influence of Humanism introduces a new shift in the Quattrocento. For example, at the beginning of the 1330s, William of Pagula uses the literary form of the speculum, to protest against the institution of royal purveyance in the English kingdom. He does not limit himself to a moral complaint but argues in defense of a sort of ‘‘basic economic that the king himself is not allowed to infringe. Interest- ingly, William supports his claim by arguing that the English realm is a fief of the pope, so that the sovereign does not possess the same fullness of power that an emperor or a pope can legitimately claim. Some years later, Guido Vernani of Rimini dedicates to the Malatesta, most probably Malatesta and Galeotto, a Liber de virtutibus, that is an abridged version of Aris- totelian virtue ethics mediated through Aquinas’ doctrine of happiness attainable in the present life. Guido had criticized Dante’s Monarchia and supported a hierocratic theory of power. Here he develops his own ethics for an Italian signore whose territory is inscribed in the boundaries of the ‘‘state’’ claimed by the Roman church. In 1340–1344, the Portuguese Franciscan friar Alvaro Pais dedicated to Alfonso XI of Castiglia a Speculum Regum that not only puts a strong emphasis on princely virtues but also defends the superiority of monarchy over other constitutions and supports the supremacy of the spiritual over the temporal. His account of the origins of power is, as usual in many Franciscan authors, especially after John Duns Scotus, clearly not Aristotelian. He prefers tracing back the origins of subordination among men to pride and other vices. However corrupted the intention of the first rulers could have been, they still played a role in preserving social order. For this reason, God tolerates such a state of affairs, although it does not correspond to his original plan for mankind. Wilhelm Berges numbered Francesc Eiximenis’ Regi- ment de la cosa publica (1383) among Mirrors for Princes. More recent studies have emphasized that the scope of this work exceeds the traditional limits of a mirror, developing 796 M Mirrors for Princes Ps. Cyprian (1909) In: Hellmann S (ed) De duodecim Hinrichs, Leipzig Sedulius Scottus (1906) Liber de rectoribus S (ed) Sedulius Scottus. Beck, München Steele R (ed) (1920) Secretum secretorum cum hactenus inedita Rogeri Baconi, vol 5. Clarendon, Oxford Vincent of Beauvais (1995) In: Schneider RJ institutione. Corpus Christianorum. Continuatio Mediaevalis, vol 137. Brepols, Turnhout William of Pagula (1891) In: Moisant J (ed) seu Tractatus quem de mala regni administratione Islip. Picard, Paris Secondary Sources Anton HH (1968) Fürstenspiegel und Herrscherethos in der Karolingerzeit. Röhrscheid, Bonn Anton HH (1982) Pseudo-cyprian, De duodecim abusivis saeculi und sein Einfluß auf den Kontinent, insbesondere Fürstenspiegel. In: Löwe H (ed) Die Mittelalter. Klett-Cotta, Stuttgart, pp 568–617 Anton HH (1999a) Fürstenspiegel, A. Lateinisches des Mittelalters, IV. München-Zürich, pp 1040–1049 Anton HH (1999b) Gesellschaftsspiegel und Gesellschaftstheorie in Westfranken/Frankreich. Spezifik, Kontinuitäten In: De Benedictis A, Pisapia A (eds) Specula Klostermann, Frankfurt/Main, pp 51–120 Bartlett R (1982) Gerald of Wales 1146–1223. Clarendon, Oxford Berges W (1938) Die Fürstenspiegel des hohen Hiersemann, Stuttgart Bizzarri HO (1991) Secreto de los Secretos (ms. Buenos Aires Briggs Ch F (1999) Giles of Rome’s De regimine writing politics at court and university, University Press, Cambridge Cova L (2006) Felicità e beatitudine nella Guido Vernani da Rimini. Documenti e studi sulla tradizione filosofia medievale XVII:363–404 De Benedictis A, Pisapia A (eds) (1999) Specula Klostermann, Frankfurt/Main Del Punta F, Luna C (1993) Catalogo dei manoscritti, De regimine principum (Città del Vaticano- Italia). Olschki, Firenze Dolcini C (1988) Guido Vernani e Dante. Note sul testo del De reprobatione Monarchie, now in Id., Crisi in crisi. Pàtron, Da Sinibaldo Fieschi pp 439–444 Eberhardt O (1977) Via Regia. Der Fürstenspiegel Mihiel und seine literarische Gattung. Fink, München Evangelisti P (2002) I ‘pauperes Christi’ I francescani come protagonisti della testualità politica e dell’organizzazione del consenso nel Tournai, Paolino da Venezia, Francesco ganda politica. Atti del XXXVIII Convegno Todi, 14–17 ottobre 2001, CISAM, Spoleto, pp 315–392 Evangelisti P (2006) I Francescani e la costruzione politici, valori identitari, progetti di nese. Editrici Francescane, Padova Frigeni R (2008) Assumere iam probatos, non Dinamiche semantiche della fiducia in alcuni tardomedievali. In: Prodi P (ed) La fiducia potere. Il Mulino, Bologna, pp 113–130 Richter M (1999) Fürstenspiegel, B. Volksprachliche Literaturen. In: Lexikon des Mittelalters, IV. München-Zürich, Rochais H (1951) Le Liber de virtutibus et vitiis l’étude des sources. Revue Mabillon 41:77–86 Rubio F (1960–1961) De regimine principum de Egidio Romano en la literatura castellana de la Edad Media, siglo 173:32–71 and 174:645–667 Senellart M (1995) Les arts de gouverner. Du regimen concept de gouvernement. Seuil, Paris Swanson J (1989) John of Wales. A study of the works a thirteenth century friar. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge Ubl K (1999) Zur Entstehung der Fürstenspiegel Engelberts von Admont (þ1331). Deutsches Archiv 55:499–548 Ubl K (2000) Engelbert von Admont. Ein Gelehrter im von Aristotelismus und christlicher Überlieferung. Wien-München Williams SJ (2003) The secret of secrets. The scholarly Aristotelian text in the Latin Middle Ages. The igan Press, Ann Arbor Zerbi P (1984) ‘‘Introduzione al De consideratione’’ Gastaldelli F (ed) Opere di San Bernardo, I. 727–759. Republished in Ecclesia in hoc mundo storia e di storiografia medioevale, Milano, 1993, 411–453 Miskawayh, Abū ʿAlı̄ ELVIRA WAKELNIG Department of Classics and Ancient History Warwick University Coventry UK Abstract Abū ʿAlı̄ Ahmad ibn Muhammad ibn Yaʿqūb Miskawayh ˙ ˙ was a prominent figure in the intellectual milieu and at different courts of the Arab-Islamic world throughout the tenth and at the beginning of the eleventh century. Besides having held various positions in the service of a number of rulers he occupied himself with many sciences, such as philosophy, history, adab, alchemy, medicine, and even cooking. Although Miskawayh is said to have composed works in most of these fields, the writings extant today mainly cover the first two mentioned. His universal his- tory The Experiences of the Nations (Tajārib al-umam) outlines the time from Noah to his own lifetime, the Buyid reign. His genuine philosophical writings, among which The Refinement of Character (Tahdhı̄b al-akhlāq wa- tathı̄r al-aʿrāq) and The Smaller Book of Triumph (al-Fawz al-asġar) are the best known today, display a main ˙ interest in ethics and how to reach ultimate happiness. Miskawayh’s philosophical doctrines are deeply 798 M Miskawayh, Abū ʿAlı̄ Smaller Book of Triumph, but are also dealt with in Miskawayh’s Kitāb al-Saʿāda (Book on Happiness). The question of the classification of knowledge is, in fact, quite a prominent topic in Miskawayh’s extant writ- ings. The most basic division is the one between theoret- ical and practical knowledge or philosophy. In the Smaller Book of Triumph, Miskawayh recommends to start one’s search for truth with mathematics and logic, then turn to natural philosophy and metaphysics before dealing with practical philosophy. In the alternative version of the Smaller Book of Triumph, mathematics are said to com- prise geometry, arithmetic, astrology/astronomy, and music, and the natural sciences are divided according to an eightfold Aristotelian division, which is also applied by al-Fārābı̄ in his Ihsā’ al-ʿulūm. ˙˙ Miskawayh classifies philosophy entirely according to Aristotle’s writings. Miskawayh’s world view is set within the framework of a Neoplatonic hierarchy of being, which is characterized by the sequence of the following levels of existence: God, Intellect, Soul, Sphere which corresponds to Universal Nature, and the bodily beings. Establishing the existence of God, the Creator, is the main intent of the first of the three parts of the Smaller Book of Triumph, where Miskawayh thus demonstrates Him to be one, single, eternal, incorporeal, the first unmoved mover and the cause of all other existents, which He has created ex nihilo. Knowledge of God may only be reached and expressed by negation. The first created existent is the Universal Intellect. Whether Miskawayh indeed pictured the level of intellect as encompassing ten intelligences which cause one another and the celestial spheres must remain doubtful. This Farabian doctrine is expounded in the Treatise on the Intellect and the Intelligible (Risāla fı̄ which has been ascribed to Miskawayh. However, his authorship is questionable and no tenet expressed in the treatise seems to be genuinely characteristic of his philosophy. In any case, Miskawayh’s main concern is not with universal hypostases, but with intellect and soul as present in human beings and, in fact, with granting immortality to them. Three Platonic proofs are cited in the second part of the Smaller Book of Triumph, the part on the soul and its conditions, in order to establish the soul as life-giving, as containing no badness or evil, and as self-moving and therefore being an immortal, spiritual substance. Conse- quently, man must not fear death, as Miskawayh explicitly sets out to show in the short Treatise on the Fear of Death (Risāla fı̄ l-khawf min al-mawt) and in a passage on the See also: ▶ al-ʿĀmirı̄, Abū l-Hasan ▶ Aristotle, ˙ ▶ al-Fārābı̄, Abū Nasr ▶ al-Kindı̄, ˙ Ish: āq ▶ Plato, Arabic ▶ Proclus, Arabic ▶ Abū Hayyān ˙ Bibliography Primary Sources Arkoun Mohammad (1961–1962) Deux épı̂tres de (Contains the R. fı̄ l-ladhdhāt wa-l-ālām Arkoun Mohammad (1963) Textes inédits de Miskawayh 5:181–205 Arkoun Mohammad (1964) Notes et documents. Miskawayh: de l’Intel- lect et de l’intelligible (Fı̄ l-ʿaql wa-l-maʿqūl). Cuvelier G (French trans) (1989) Les Textes inédits Présentation et traduction. Rev Philos Louvain 87:215–234 Marcotte R (English trans) The Risālah fı̄ al-‘Aql Ibn Miskawayh: an epistle on the intellect and the intelligible. IC 70(2):1–17 Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (1379/2000) Kitāb al-Saʿāda manāzil al-ʿulūm. In: Awjabı̄ A (ed) Ganjı̄na-yi Kitābkhana Muza wa-Markaz-i Asnad-i Majlis-i Teheran, 99–127 Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (1964) In: Khan MS (ed with māhiyat al-ʿadl. Brill, Leiden Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (1966) In: Zurayk Q (ed) Jāmiʿa l-amı̄rikiyya, Beirut (English trans: 1968) Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (1987) In: ʿUdayma S (ed) ˙ ˙ trans: Arnaldez R). al-Dār al-ʿArabiyya li-l-kitāb, Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (1980) In: Badawı̄ ‘A Jāwı̄dān Khirad. Dār al-Andalus, Beirut Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (2001) In: Kasrawı̄ S (ed) Manshūrāt Muhammad ʿAlı̄ Bydūn, Beirut ˙ Miskawayh Abū ʿAlı̄ (2007) In: Isbir AM (ed) mawt. Bidāyāt li-l-tibāʿa wa-l-nashr wa-l-tawzı̄ʿ, ˙ Secondary Sources Adamson P (2007) Miskawayh’s psychology. In: Adamson Arabic philosophy: sources and reception. Warburg don, pp 39–54 Arkoun M (1982) L’humanisme arabe au IVe/Xe siècle, 2nd edn. Vrin, Paris Dunlop DM (1979) The Muntakhab Siwān al-Hikma of Abū Sulaimān as- ˙ ˙ Sijistānı̄. Mouton, Hague Gutas D (1983) Paul the Persian on the classification Aristotle’s philosophy: a milestone between Islam 60:231–267 Hasnawi A (1997) Deux textes en arabe sur les preuves platoniciennes de l’immortalité de l’âme. Medioevo 23:395–408 Kraemer J (1992) Humanism in the renaissance of Islam. revival during the Buyid Age, 2nd edn. Brill, Rosenthal F (1940) On the knowledge of Plato’s philosophy World. IC 14:387–422 Wakelnig E (2009) A new version of Miskawayh’s Book of Triumph: an alternative recension of al-al-Fawz al-asghar or the lost Fawz ˙ al-akbar? ASP 19:83–119 Walzer R (1962) Some aspects of Miskawaih’s Tahdhı̄b Walzer R (ed) Greek into Arabic. Essays on Islamic philosophy. Bruno Cassirer, Oxford, pp 220–235 800 M Modal Theories and Modal Logic There are four originally Aristotelian ways of understand- ing the meaning of modal terms in ancient philosophy: the ‘‘statistical’’ or ‘‘temporal frequency’’ modality, which is found in the discussions of eternal beings, the natures of things, and the types of events and which implies that what is possible is sometimes actual (the so-called Principle of Plenitude), the conception of possibility as a potency, which was associated with the assumption that no natural potency type remains eternally frustrated, the conception of antecedent necessities and possibilities with respect to a certain moment of time (diachronic modalities), and the idea of possibility as non-contradictoriness. None of these conceptions includes the view that the meaning of modal terms should be spelled out by considering simultaneous alternative states of affairs. On the contrary, ancient modal thinking is characterized by the assumption of the necessity of the present and the necessity of unchanging states of affairs in general. An example of the statistical approach tradition is found in Thomas Aquinas’ commentary on Chapter 9 of Aristotle’s De interpretatione, where various types of proposition are classified on the basis ‘‘matter’’: " In necessary matter all affirmative propositions minately true; this holds for propositions tense as well as in the past and present ative ones are false. In impossible matter the case. In contingent matter, however, sitions are false and particular propositions the case in future tense propositions as well as those in the past and present tenses. In indefinite ones, once true in the future tense propositions in the past and present tenses (In Peri The matter of a proposition is associated with the habitude of a predicate to a subject and is explained as follows: " If the predicate is per se in the subject, a proposition in necessary or natural matter, ‘Man is an animal’ and ‘Man is risible’. se repugnant to the subject, as in a way notion of it, it is said to be a proposition remote matter, for example ‘Man is an is related to the subject in a way midway two, being neither per se repugnant to the se in it, the proposition is said to be gent matter (Ibid). The ancient theory of the matter of propositions was often associated with the rules of contraries, subcontraries, and necessitates everything. Boethius follows the Aristotelian tradition of diachronic possibilities: there are transient individual alternative possibilities, but those which will not be realized disappear. There are no unrealized possi- bilities which might remain intact even when their dia- chronic counterparts have vanished. In dealing with possibilities based on potencies Boe- thius writes that some potencies are never unrealized, their nature being such that they are always actual and as such necessarily so. There are no contrary potencies in these cases, Boethius says, because they would remain unrealized forever and the constitution of nature cannot include elements which are in vain. The potencies of non- necessary features of beings do not exclude contrary potencies. They are not always and universally actualized, but as potency-types even these must be sometimes actu- alized. This is in agreement with the ‘‘statistical’’ model of modality. Aristotle’s theory of active and passive potencies was originally meant to explain how and why a singular change takes place. This background made it a cumbersome model for singular possibilities. While it allowed Aristotle and his medieval followers to speak about unrealized pos- sibilities in the sense of partial possibilities, that is, as the correlates of active or passive potencies, full singular pos- sibilities were actualized when they could be actualized. Natural passive potencies could not be actualized without an active power and were necessarily actualized when an active power activated them and there was no external hindrance (Aristotle, Met. IX.5). While the conceptions of power and potentiality were widely regarded as impor- tant elements in understanding modality, Anselm of Can- terbury attempted to base the whole of modal semantics on these notions. The problems in his theory show that the notion of potency is too narrow a basis for this purpose. In De caelo I.12 Aristotle supposes, per impossibile, that a thing has contrary potencies, one of which is always actualized. He argues that the unactualized potency can- not be real, because one cannot assume it to be realized at any time without contradiction. Aristotle applies the model of possibility as non-contradictoriness which is defined in Prior Analytics I.13 as follows: when a possibility is assumed to be realized, it results in nothing impossible. In speaking about the assumed noncontradictory actualization of a possibility, Aristotle thinks that it is realized in our one and only history. In some places he suggests that for the purposes of argument one can assume counterfactual states of affairs in thought even though they are not realizable in the world. Assump- tions of this kind were not uncommon in late ancient philosophy; they were called impossible hypotheses. 802 M Modal Theories and Modal Logic It was argued that while tensed statements about tempo- rally definite singular events have a changing truth-value, the corresponding non-tensed propositions are unchang- ingly true or false, without being necessarily true or false for this reason. This was in agreement with that future contingent propositions are true actuality of a contingent state of affairs at time does not exclude the nontemporal possibility of simultaneous alternatives, nor does the truth of a proposition about this state of affairs make While medieval commentators usually followed Boethius in assuming that in Aristotle’s view future propositions are not true or false, their own closer to that of Abelard who in fact ascribed as well. Modifying Boethius’ systematization of Aristotle’s remarks in De interpretatione 12 and 13, twelfth- and thirteenth-century logicians often presented the equipol- lences between modal terms and opposed relations between modal propositions with the help of the following diagram: Modal Theories and Modal Logic. Fig. 1 The square of opposition for modal propositions. The square could be taken to refer to modals de dicto or singular modals de re (see below). Abelard tried to define the opposed relations between quantified de re modals as well. He thought that these were the same as those between singular modal propositions, which is completely wrong. This question was not much discussed before its satisfactory solution in the new century modal semantics presented in Buridan’s modal octagon (see below). The anonymous Dialectica Monacensis (c. 1200) involves the analysis of modal propositions which is influenced by Abelard and is found in many medieval logical treatises. In discussing the quantity (universal, particular, and singular) and quality (affirmative and a further development in Prior Analytics I.15. These were dealt with in later ancient discussions and generally accepted in medieval logic as follows: if the antecedent of a good consequence is necessary/possible, the consequent is necessary/possible. However, the main interest was in the modal syllogistics and modalized syllogistic premises, the logic of which was more complicated. Avicenna wrote a brief summary of Aristotle’s modal syllogistics, but his own theory was different, being based on the assumptions that the subject terms and the predicate terms of assertoric and modal propositions stand for all possible applications and the truth- conditions of assertoric propositions and corresponding possibility propositions are the same. It follows that syllogisms with assertoric and necessity premises coin- cide with syllogisms with possibility and necessity pre- mises and syllogisms with assertoric and possibility premises or with assertoric premises with uniform pos- sibility syllogisms. While Averroes’ commentaries on the Prior Analytics followed the main lines of Aristotle’s text, his separate treatise on modality involved new systematic ideas, mainly the theory of accidental and per se necessary terms and the interpretation of syllogistic necessity premises as per se necessary predications with per se necessary terms. Both ideas were inspired by Aristotle’s remarks in the Posterior Analytics I.4; the syllogistic applications were Averroes’ own inventions. Since Averroes takes modal premises to be of the divided type, assertoric premises in Aristotelian mixed necessity-assertoric syllogisms must have a predi- cate term which in fact is necessary. The same applies to the subject term of the first premise in mixed assertoric- necessity syllogisms. This is a speculative explanation of Aristotle’s asymmetric treatment of mixed necessity- assertoric syllogisms and mixed assertoric-necessity syllo- gisms. Analogous essentialist ideas were developed in thirteenth-century Latin discussions. The first known Latin commentary on Prior Analytics is an anonymous late twelfth-century treatise which involves detailed discussions of modal conversion and modal syllogisms as well as many problems dealt with in ancient commentaries. A concise summary of Aristotle’s modal syllogistics is also provided in the Dialectica Monacensis, and the elements of modal syllogistics were discussed in logic courses in Paris in the first part of the thirteenth century. Robert Kilwardby’s commentary (c. 1240) became an authoritative thirteenth-century work on the Prior Analytics, from which the discussions of modal syllogistics in Albert the Great’s commentary (c. 1250) were also largely derived. The conversion infer- ence rules played an important role in Aristotle’s 804 M Modal Theories and Modal Logic propositions (possible in most cases) results in contin- gency propositions when contingency means possibility proper (not impossible). There were extensive discussions of the kinds of contingency based on various philosophical ideas of contingency in the commentaries by Kilwardby and Albert the Great and in other treatises by their contemporaries. Following Aristotle’s remark according to which ‘‘A contingently belongs to B’’ may to which B belongs’’ or ‘‘to that to which B contingently belongs,’’ Kilwardby argues that the subject terms in con- tingency syllogisms are read in the second way, having the ampliated form ‘‘Everything/something that is contin- gently B is contingently A,’’ if syllogistic relations do not demand restriction. In explaining the difference in this respect between necessity propositions and contingency propositions, Kilwardby argues that since the terms in per se necessity propositions are necessary, ‘‘Every A is neces- sarily B’’ and ‘‘Whatever is necessarily mean the same. Contingency propositions which are ampliated do not mean the same as those which are not so ampliated, although both are convertible. According to Kilwardby, the modal character of the predication in the conclusion of perfect first figure syllogisms follows that of the first premise, which involves the whole syllogism in accordance with the dici de omni et nullo. The premises and the conclusion in uniform necessity syllogisms are necessary per se. In mixed first-figure syllogisms with a major necessity pre- mise and a minor assertoric premise, the non-modalized premise should be simpliciter assertoric, that is, a neces- sarily true per se predication. Similarly, in mixed first- figure syllogisms with contingent major and assertoric minor premises, the assertoric premise must be simpliciter assertoric, but this time the criteria are that the predicate belongs to the subject per se, invariably or by natural contingency. Kilwardby explains the various readings of assertoric premises of mixed syllogisms by stating that a first-figure major necessity premise ‘‘appropriates’’ which is necessary per se. No such appropriation occurs in first-figure mixed assertoric-necessity syllogisms. In the second figure, while the universal negative necessity pre- mise appropriates a necessary premise to itself, a particular necessity premise cannot appropriate a universal necessary premise to itself, nor an affirmative a negative. There are similar appropriation rules for third- figure moods. In a mixed first-figure necessity- contingency mood the first premise appropriates a natural contingency minor to itself. While the major premise of a mixed first-figure assertoric contingency and possibilities as such are freely established by God and that they could therefore be different from what they are. This was criticized by Leibniz, whose modal views were influenced by the Scotist conception of alternativeness, although he developed it in a different way. Another influential idea was the systematic distinction between logical and natural necessities and possibilities; this called for new explanations of what was meant by the necessities of natural philosophy, the denials of which were not log- ically inconsistent. One important branch of medieval logic developed in treatises called De obligationibus dealt, roughly speaking, with how an increasing set of true and false propositions accepted in a disputation might remain coherent. According to thirteenth-century rules, false present-tense statements could be accepted as expressing possible posi- tions only if they were taken to refer to a moment of time different from the actual one. Scotus deleted this rule, which was based on the thesis of the necessity of the present, and later theories accepted the Scotist revision. Obligations logic could now be regarded as a theory of how to deal with logically possible states of affairs and their mutual relationships. These discussions were related to the interest in counterfactual reasoning. As mentioned above, Averroes and Aquinas developed a theory of abstract possibilities for dealing with counterfactual assumptions without the theoretical idea of simultaneous alternatives. John Buridan heavily criticized this approach from the point of view of the new modal theory. Investi- gating possibilities is to think about them as actualized in a coherent context of compossibilities. If the abstract possibilities in Averroes and Aquinas cannot be treated in this way, calling them possibilities is based on a conceptual confusion. William Ockham, John Buridan, and some other four- teenth-century logicians took the new notion of logical possibility as the starting-point of their modal logic, which largely dropped the thirteenth-century essentialist assumptions and consequently became much more com- plete and satisfactory. Questions of modal logic were discussed separately with respect to modal propositions de dicto and de re; modal propositions de re were further divided into two groups depending on whether the subject terms referred to actual or possible beings. It was thought that logicians should also analyze the relationships between these readings and, furthermore, the conse- quences with various types of modal propositions as their parts. Richard of Campsall played an interesting role in the development of medieval modal syllogistics. He introduced the habit of treating the de dicto and de re moods separately, but he was also dependent on 806 M Modistae Peter Abelard (1958) Super Periermenias XII–XIV, Twelfth century logic: texts and studies Edizioni di Storia e Leteratura, Rome Richard of Campsall (1968) Quaestiones super analyticorum, ed. Synan EA, The works of Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto Secondary Sources Boh I (1993) Epistemic logic in the later middle New York Ebbesen S (1981) Analyzing syllogisms or Anonymus the (Pesumably) earliest Latin commentary and its Greek model. Cahiers de l’Institut Latin 37:1–20 Knuuttila S (1993) Modalities in medieval philosophy. don/New York Knuuttila S (2004) Anselm on modality. In: Davies Cambridge companion to Anselm. Cambridge Cambridge, pp 111–131 Knuuttila S (2008) Medieval modal theories and Gabbay DM (eds) Handbook of the history Amsterdam, pp 505–78 Knuuttila S, Hallamaa O (1995) Roger Roseth Log Anal 149:75–87 Kukkonen T (2000) Possible worlds in the Tahâfut plenitude and possibility. J Hist Philos 38:329–347 Lagerlund H (2000) Modal syllogistics in the Texte zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittelalters Martin C (1999) Thinking the impossible: non-reductive impossible hypotheses in Boethius and Philoponus. Ancient Philos 19:279–302 Normore C (2003) Duns Scotus’s modal theory. Cambridge companion to Duns Scotus. Cambridge Cambridge, pp 129–60 Street T (2004) Arabic logic. In: Woods J, Gabbay the history of logic I. Elsevier, Amsterdam, Thom P (2003) Medieval modal systems: problems studies in medieval philosophy. Ashgate, Aldershot Thom P (2007) Logic and ontology in the syllogistic Brill, Leiden Yrjönsuuri M (ed) (2001) Medieval formal logic: and consequences. The New Synthese Historical Dordrecht Modistae RIA VAN DER LECQ History of Philosophy Utrecht University Utrecht The Netherlands Abstract ‘‘Modistae’’ is the name of a group of Parisian grammar- ians and philosophers who lived in the period between far as these meanings constitute grammatical categories, such as nouns, verbs, cases, or tenses, the so-called modes of signifying (modi significandi). The modes of signifying were the principles of grammar. According to modistic analysis, words acquire their meaning by a deliberate act of imposition (impositio). In a first imposition, a sound (vox) is connected with a referent. The relation between sound and referent is called the ratio significandi. The result of this coupling of expression and meaning is a so-called dictio, which is not yet a word or term in the logical sense, but rather a lexeme (Pinborg, 1982). This lexeme can become a term and part of speech when it has received, as a result of a secondary imposition, a number of modes of signifying. The follow- ing example may help to make this clearer. The English word ‘‘drink’’ would be a manifestation of the lexeme drink,∗ which includes all occurrences of the word ‘‘drink,’’ ‘‘drinker,’’ ‘‘drinking,’’ become a particular term or part of speech, as in ‘‘drinks are served at the bar,’’ several modes of signifying are necessary, in this case the modes of noun, plural, and nominative case. It is clear, then, that the object referred to by the lexeme is not a particular thing, but a more or less abstract content not yet determined in a category. Now the modes of signifying prepare the lexeme for var- ious syntactical functions. Each lexeme has one essential mode of signifying and various other modes. The essential mode determines to which fundamental grammatical cat- egory it will belong, for example, noun or verb, whereas other modes provide it with less basic grammatical fea- tures, such as tense, case, or number. As a result of their philosophical background, the Modistae believed that there is a structural parallel between language, thought, and reality, but unlike logi- cians, they were not interested in truth conditions of sentences, but in the construction of linguistic expres- sions. Such a construction is a union of two parts of speech (partes orationis), for example, a noun and a verb, or a noun and an adjective. Each part has its own modes of signifying. A construction is well formed if the modes of one part of speech are compatible with the modes of the other part, for example, a part of speech with the modes of signifying of noun, plural, and accusative case would in many cases be compatible with another part of speech with the modes of participle, and present tense, as in the expression ‘‘selling books.’’ Although the aim of speculative grammar was to describe relationships between linguistic elements, the Modistae had to take the structure of reality into account. To ensure the scientific status of their doctrine, they needed an ontological foundation (fundamentum in re) 808 M Moral Philosophy, Arabic act of judgment generates first intentions like man is an animal and second intentions like conclusion sition and the act of reasoning brings about first intentions like every man runs, Socrates is a man, therefore Socrates runs and second intentions like syllogism. The second intentions are the proper objects of logic, according to the Modistae, but the most interesting question do they see the extramental foundation of these concepts? Here, the modes of being appear to be useful again. Both first and second intentions are drawn from the modes of being (modi essendi) of extramental objects: first intentions from the proper modes of being and second intentions from the common modes of being. Second intentions conceive and signify extramental objects under a common mode of being. In this process the intellect and the object cooperate, for example, the extramental object man has a proper mode of being from which the first intention ‘‘man’’ can be drawn and a common mode of being, which is the foundation of the second intention ‘‘universal.’’ The (of being) of the extramental object man are tion of the concepts ‘‘man’’ and ‘‘universal.’’ consider things according to their common modes of being. Second intentions are their primary object of study. The theory of second intentions sketched above is the version of this theory that can be found in Radulphus Brito. In his view, all second intentions a relation to the real world, although it is this works in the case of conclusions and syllogisms, seem to be examples of mental constructions. Anyhow, the modists’ views on grammar and logic are formed same intention: to make sciences out of these liberal arts. In both cases, their inspiration was Aristotle’s conception of science. Their opinions were severely criticized by later philosophers, but their foundation of logic and grammar in reality was an expression of the intellectual climate of the end of the thirteenth century. See also: ▶ Being ▶ Boethius of Dacia ▶ Intention, Primary and Secondary ▶ Peter Helias ▶ Radulphus Brito ▶ Robert Grosseteste ▶ Robert Kilwardby ▶ Simon of Faversham ▶ Thomas Aquinas Bibliography Primary Sources Brito Radulphus (1980) Quaestiones super Priscianum Enders H W, Pinborg J. Frommann-Holzboog, Cannstatt Thomas of Erfurt (1972) Grammatica speculativa and commentary: Bursill-Hall GL). Longman, London of all ages, and a leading physician in his period. He also served as head of the Jewish community in Egypt. Mai- monides’ philosophy finds expression not only in his treatise, The Guide of the Perplexed, but also in his legal writings, most notably the opening chapters of the Mishneh Torah and in some sections of his Commentary on the Mishnah, in some of his medical writings, such as Medical Aphorisms, and in some of his epistles, such as Treatise on Resurrection. In this article I will confine myself to Maimonides’ thought as it emerges from the Guide. Philosophy The Guide of the Perplexed: An Overview Maimonides’ The Guide of the Perplexed is not a philosophical work in the strict sense of the term. His primary intent in writing this treatise is not in order to expand the borders of philosophical knowledge or to explore topics on the basis of reason alone. It is closer in spirit to theology, defining and rationally defending basic religious tenets. Yet it is far different from the classic works belonging to this genre, such as Thomas Aquinas’ Summa theologica which is far more systematic in its presentation. The Guide devotes as much attention to the interpretation of Scriptural verses and passages from rabbinic texts as to rational argumentation and the rationale behind the order in which it presents its topics and the manner in which they are presented is not always evident. In the introduction to his treatise Maimonides indi- cates that he wrote it for the individual who was steeped in Jewish tradition and went on to study philosophy, becom- ing in the process perplexed by the seeming contradictions between these two areas. Such an individual often feels that he is faced with an either/or choice – either to remain loyal to religious tradition at the expense of human reason or to abandon tradition in deference to reason. Maimon- ides sets out to show that there is another alternative – the reinterpretation of traditional texts in light of reason. Tradition hides certain profound truths from the masses by presenting them in a figurative manner in accordance with their limited capacities. Maimonides is very much influenced in this matter by the Platonic political tradi- tion, particularly as developed by the Islamic philosopher al-Fārābı̄. Most people are not prepared to appreciate the bright light of the truth and are blinded by it instead. Only with the attainment of wisdom does one begin to appre- ciate the truths underlying the Bible and rabbinic writings and understands that not all their words should be interpreted literally. Certain terms have figurative mean- ings and the prophets often speak in allegories. The cor- poreal descriptions of God, for example, are meant to 810 M Moses Maimonides showing how terms connoting God’s corporeality or the corporeality of the angels should be interpreted figura- tively. He also deals with the problems involved in attaining philosophical knowledge and the limits of human reason. Beginning with chap. 50 of the first part he enters into a detailed discussion of divine attributes and the names of God. He also presents his view of God’s relation to the world. All the positions he presents are in harmony with the Neoplatonized version of Aristotelian philosophy prevalent in his period. Maimonides con- cludes the first part by expounding in detail the proofs for the existence, unity, and incorporeality of God as presented in Moslem theology, the kalām, after depicting its fundamental premises. While he displays an exception- ally critical approach to this theology, particularly the premises upon which it is based, for the most part regard- ing them as false, he nevertheless ascribes to it an impor- tant role in proving God’s existence. The theologians prove God by first proving that the world is created. Maimonides argues that their proofs for creation are not demonstrative, resulting in their proofs for the existence of God being non-demonstrative. The Aristotelian philo- sophic proofs for the existence of God, on the other hand, are based on the premise that the world is without begin- ning. This too in Maimonides’ view has not been ade- quately demonstrated. We have then two sets of proofs for God based on contradictory propositions – that is, the world is created and the world is without beginning. Neither set provides us with a demonstrative proof for God’s existence. Yet if we combine both sets we have a demonstrative proof, since the world must be either created or without beginning, there is no third alternative. If we assume that the proofs for the creation of the world are correct, then the kalām has provided us with a demonstrative proof for the existence of God. If we assume that the proofs for eternity a parte ante of the world are correct, then the Aristotelian philosophers have provided us with a demonstrative proof. Interestingly, Maimonides analyzes the philosophic proofs and the 26 premises upon which they are based at the beginning of the second part of the treatise, rather than at the end of the first. As opposed to his approach to the kalām he expresses full agreement with all the philosophic premises with the crucial exception of one – movement are eternal and always existed in actu. In the following chapters of this part (chaps. 2–12) Maimonides proceeds to express his agreement also with the Aristote- lian view how God governs the world through the order of nature and shows how Scripture should be interpreted accordingly. All physical changes in the world result from the fixed motion of the living spheres, each standing in such attributes as living and powerful. Anything that entails change or multiplicity in God cannot be ascribed to Him. For Maimonides all corporeal descriptions of God in Scripture should be interpreted figuratively and all positive attributes attributed to God should be under- stood as either negative attributes or attributes of action. When Scripture says, for example, that God is alive and powerful, the intent is not to attribute the attributes of life and power to God but to indicate that God is not dead or powerless. Descriptions of God as merciful or vengeful are not meant to ascribe to Him these human emotions but to describe the divine actions which when translated into the human sphere are most often seen as stemming from such emotion. Hence, war and famine are ascribed to divine wrath, while plentiful crops are traced to divine mercy. Numerous and even contradictory actions, Maimonides argues, can stem from a single essence without entailing multiplicity, just as fire by virtue of a single quality blackens, bleaches, cooks, burns, melts, and hardens. Together with the doctrine of negative attributes Mai- monides appears to maintain the view that God lives, knows, and is powerful in some positive sense. His solu- tion to the problems raised by this position is to argue that God lives, but not through life; knows, but not through knowledge, etc. That is to say, in reference to God these are not attributes superadded to the divine essence but all are one with the essence. God’s knowledge, thus, is totally different from our knowledge, having nothing in common with it, and hence completely incomprehensible to us. Maimonides’ God is also Avicenna’s Necessary Exis- tent. Like Avicenna, Maimonides treats existence as an attribute superadded to essence. God is the one existent whose essence necessitates existence. All other existents attain their existence from an external cause; hence, their existence is only possible by nature. If their cause did not bring them into existence they would not exist. In addition to viewing God as the absolute One who possesses no positive attributes and whose essence is unfathomable, as well as the Necessary Existent, Maimon- ides continues to uphold the Aristotelian view of God as Self-intellecting intellect, thereby treating God’s essence as intellect. According to Maimonides, God’s self-intellection encompasses all existence in a single thought, since God is the cause of all existence. The transcendent deity is at the same time the ultimate efficient, final, and formal cause of the world, the world being regarded by him as a single organism. Maimonides insists that while the world’s exis- tence is completely dependent upon God – the world could not exist even for a fleeting second without God existing – God’s existence is in no manner dependent upon the world. All apparent contradictions entailed by 812 M Moses Maimonides heavenly order which indicate that they are a product of design. While the Aristotelians, according to Maimonides, can provide a true explanation for the lack of uniformity in the entities of the earth, they have no convincing expla- nation for the lack of uniformity in the size of the planets or the differences in their motion. Since these particulars cannot result from natural necessity – the matter of which the heavenly bodies are composed is completely uniform – they must be the product of one who particularized them in this manner. This in turn entails their creation. Mai- monides is aware that one can still argue that God may have particularized them in this manner from eternity. His rejoinder is that the eternity of the world entails necessity, eternal creation being an oxymoron, and only by positing the world’s creation from a state of absolute nonexistence, can one explain those particularities of the heavenly order that reflect divine purpose and will. A version of this argument was already brought by al-Ġazālı̄ in his Incoherence of the Philosophers with a critical difference. Al-Ġazālı̄ tries aspects of the heavens that reflect the workings of absolute will that can choose between alternatives that are completely alike from the perspective of reason. This proves the existence of a divine will which has in its power the creation of a world when it wills, though there is no rational reason why it chose to create it when it did as opposed to any other possible moment. Maimonides treats the creation of the world with all its peculiarities not only the result of will but also purpose and wisdom. There is for him a rational reason for all the particularities of the heavenly order and they are not the product of will alone. According to Maimonides, the eternity, hence the necessity, of the world does not leave room for the design- ing of a heavenly world in which all its non-standardized particulars are the product of wisdom. To the philosophic arguments in favor of creation Maimonides also brings a list of theological arguments. Creation is in harmony with the literal meaning of the Torah, which should be maintained when there is no demonstrative argument against the literal reading. More- over, only by positing creation can we explain why God granted certain individuals prophecy and why He gave a certain nation the divine law and why He legislated certain prohibitions. A world governed by natural necessity pro- vides no answers to these questions – in short, it leaves no room for revelatory religion. The God of Nature Versus the God of History: Miracles and Prophecy While the doctrine of creation leaves open the possibility of miracles, Maimonides takes pains to argue their limited The two phenomena most closely associated with the revelation of the Divine Law, however, are removed from the category of normative prophecy. Maimonides treats both the Revelation at Sinai and the prophecy to Moses as sui generis. His discussion suggests that Moses received his prophecy directly from God. Whether Maimonides’ God is a deity who, in fact, acts directly in history, even if only on exceptionally rare occasions, has been a subject of debate among his interpreters through the ages. It is clear at any rate that Maimonides felt it crucial to preserve this conception of God in order to preserve the nation’s faith in the notion of God as the immediate author of the Divine Law. The Problem of Evil, Providence, and Human Perfection In its classic formulation the problem raised regarding the existence of evil is: Why does a good, all-powerful and all- knowing deity create evil or even allow evil to occur – whether the evil consists of natural disasters, disease, or the evils humans perpetrate against each other. In other words, why are the innocent allowed by God to suffer while we often see the evil flourish. Maimonides addresses this problem but he is much more interested in reformulating it. Rather than a problem that questions God’s goodness or power, it is a problem Maimonides transforms into a call for action on the part of human beings to recognize the true nature of the evils that affect them and adopt a course of action to limit these evils as much as possible. The problem of why God creates evil is solved by Maimonides by considering all evils as privations of the good, that is to say, privations in that which exists rather than something existent in its own right. They indicate a lack of a quality, such as blindness is a lack of sight or death is a lack of life, and are not something positive. What does not exist cannot be said to be created; hence, God does not create evil but creates entities lacking certain qualities. This argument appears to be begging the ques- tion, for then the problem arises why God does not create a world without privation, a world without floods and earthquakes, diseases and deformities, etc. Maimonides indicates that the essence of earthly matter is characterized by privations and change which allows for the world’s continuity. His answer suggests that anyone who asks why God does not create a world without natural evils or even human evils is asking why God created the world at all, for such evils inevitably characterize earthly matter. Underlying this answer appears to be a view of divine plenitude. A world which is characterized by all possible levels of existence – form without matter (Separate 814 M Moses Maimonides human beings that does not constitute their just deserts in consequence of their freely willed actions. He rejects the view of the Epicurians who maintain that everything in the world happens by chance as well as the view of the Moslem theologians belonging to the Ashʿariyya who maintain that everything that happens in the world, including all human actions, result from divine decree. The view of the Muʿtazilite theologians that God exercises providence over all beings, not only humans, but human beings enjoy some limited form of free will is also rejected. The same is the case with the Aristotelian view that God exercises provi- dence only over the species – by the instruments he gives to each to preserve one’s life and to propagate the species – and not over individuals of the species, whose circum- stances are governed by chance. Maimonides’ own posi- tion is closest to the Aristotelian view with the critical proviso that in the case of human beings, as opposed to all other species, God exercises providence over all indi- viduals and nothing happening to them should be attrib- uted to chance. His view that the ‘‘otherness’’ knowledge allows the Deity to know all particulars through all time without this knowledge necessitating change or plurality in God on one hand, nor human determinism on the other, serves to bolster this view of providence. Maimonides’ approach to divine providence, undergoes a subtle and radical change as his discussion unfolds, essentially moving him even closer to the Aristo- telian position. He maintains that the degree of provi- dence that humans enjoy is in direct proportion to the perfection of the intellect. One who does not develop one’s intellect is in fact subject to the vicissitudes of chance, just as the case of the individuals of all other species, and enjoys no special protection. His view suggests intellect itself is the basic instrument of divine providence. A person who perfects the intellect adopts a minimizes the evils that befall human beings since this person does not indulge the appetites leading to physical and psychological maladies, is satisfied with maintains a moral equilibrium. The individual attaining perfection may also acquire prophecy allowing him or her to foresee impending evils that others wish to perpetrate, or impending natural disasters, allowing the take the proper precautions for avoiding them. Most important, one of perfect intellect realizes that all evils connected to corporeal being – whether they affect his possessions, family, or body – have no real significance, hence the individual should not feel psychologically affected by them. Thus, the evils that befall the imperfect individual by chance may be said to be this person’s ‘‘just deserts’’ for not striving to attain perfection. This For an excellent collection of essays providing an many aspects of Maimonides’ philosophy see: Seeskin K (ed) (2005) The Cambridge Companion to Maimonides. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge al-Mubashshir ibn Fātik EMILY J. COTTRELL Department for Religious Studies Leiden University Leiden The Netherlands Abstract Al-Mubashshir ibn Fātik was a scholar and patron of the Fatimid court in Cairo in the middle of the eleventh century. He studied medicine, astronomy, and history, and composed a lost History of the Fatimid Caliph al-Mustans:ir (r. 1036–1094). His only book to have sur- vived, The Choicest Maxims and Best Sayings (Kitāb mukhtār al-h: ikam wa-mah: asin al-kalim or al-kilam), gives 20 biographies of some of the main Semitic, Greek, and Egyptian figures of wisdom and prophecy (including the monotheized Alexander the Great). An important part of the biographical and gnomological materials may be compared with similar fragments attested in Greek litera- ture. The Choicest Maxims was a medieval success, trans- lated in at least four European languages from the thirteenth to the fifteenth centuries. ‘Abū l-Wafā’ Mubashshir ibn Fātik (d.480/1087?) is said to have been originally from Damascus and of Syrian descent. He was close to the Fatimid court during the reigns of the Fatimid Caliphs al-Zāhir (r. 411–427/1021– ˙ 1036) and al-Mustans:ir (r. 427–487/1036–1094) and would have married there a woman issued of the nobility (he himself belonged to the arbāb of the court, according to Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a). According to Ibn al-Qift:ı̄ and to Gerard of Cremona (who used the chapter on Ptolemy to compose an introduction to his translation of the Almagest), he had the title of prince (Arabic: al-amı̄r) and received further the honorific title of Praised by the State (Mah: mūd al-Dawla). He was probably an Ismāʿı̄lı̄, as the Fatimid court was then at the peak of its proselyte activity. Mubashshir may have been related to ʿAzı̄z al- Dawla Fātik al-Qā’id, the first Syrian governor on behalf of the Fatimids appointed by al-Hākim on Aleppo in 1017. ˙ Ibn Taymiyya, writing in the second part of the thirteenth century, mentions that Mubashshir ibn Fātik was close to 816 M al-Mubashshir ibn Fātik Mufradāt al-adwiyya; and other epistles. To these, Yāqūt adds the Sı̄rat al-Mustans:ir, in three volumes. The looting of the Fatimids’ library by the Turks dur- ing a revolt in 1068–1069, and later on its dismantlement and destruction at the express will of the (Sunni) Ayyubid ruler Saladin (r. 1171–1193), may have led to the nearly complete disappearance of Mubashshir’s works. Neverthe- less, Yāqūt notes that Mubashshir collected an innumera- ble number of books, which, Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a adds, he was later able to peruse while working at the Ayyubid court in Cairo. He complains that many of these had been damaged after Mubashshir’s widow and some neighbors had thrown them into a basin to take revenge for her husband’s passion for books and scholarship. Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a says he saw many of Mubashshir’s books ‘‘on the Ancients’’ (i.e., philosophy, medicine, the sciences of the quadriv- ium, and probably some history) in autograph copies. Only one of Ibn Fātik’s works has survived, and it is therefore impossible to give a comprehensive evaluation of his thinking. The composition of The Choicest Maxims, in 440/1048–1049, may have been part of a proselytizing attempt, following a general tendency in Fatimid policy. In the aftermath of the Druze schism, The Choicest Maxims explores some of the ways to conciliate the theory of the theios aner with a monotheistic religion: asceticism, encratism, and Hermetism. In conciliating apophatic the- ology with the necessity of a spiritual master or guide, Ibn Fātik does not depart from the doctrine officially taught in his time at the Fatimid court. The Sages advocate as examples by Ibn Fātik, whose lives and sayings ought to be reflected upon, Seth, the three Hermeses, Tat, Asclepius, Solon, Zeno, Pythagoras, Hippocrates, Socrates, Plato, Diogenes, Aristotle, Alexan- der the Great, Galen, Ptolemy, Saint Basil, Saint Gregory (of Nyssa and Nazianzus seem to have been confused into one figure), and finally the Coranic Luqmān and the little- known Mahadarjis (seemingly an Indo–Persian figure who has recently been identified with a Zoroastrian sixth-century priest). The biographies are integrated within a general frame imitated from the classical genres of the ‘‘literature of inventions’’ ing Neoplatonic and Ismāʿı̄lı̄ traditions, Mubashshir uses these models of wisdom as exempla of conduct, which the believer should follow to ascend the ladder leading to prophetic perfection. The chapters of The Choicest Maxims are organized by Mubashshir according to a unique pattern, unless he could not find such information in his sources: biography, doxography, sayings, and more rarely some elements of bibliography. If the sapiential genre had been in use for millenniums in the ancient literacy of Near East, and the (r. 1252–1284), where it was translated into Spanish in 1257. Through his mother, the king belonged to the Hohenstaufen family and shared with his famous cousin Frederick II a wide intellectual curiosity. On the Spanish version, a Latin translation was realized, of which two recensions have been discovered by Franceschini (see further Anawati 1959–1961 and Rosenthal 1960–1961). Franceschini accepted Knust’s thesis according to which the Spanish Bocados de Oro had been translated from Arabic and not from Latin, as had been supposed earlier. Only one of the manuscripts of the Latin Liber philosophorum attributes the translation to John de Procida (ital. Giovanni da Procida, d. 1298, another mem- ber of the Hohenstaufen court), and as a consequence this attribution has been questioned since the end of the nine- teenth century (see Rosenthal 1960–1961:133). If The Choicest Maxims had lost the name of its author in the medieval translations, the prince Abū l-Wafā᾽ (Mubashshir ibn Fātik) is known to Gerard of Cremona (d. 1187) who transcribes it as Albuguefe (for *Abu al- Guefe=al-Wafā’?) and correctly translates the into Latin as Scienciarum electionem et verborum pulcritudinem, nearly a century before the Spanish trans- lation. Gerard was able to use the chapter on Ptolemy’s life and sayings for the introduction to his translation of the Almagest (see Kunitzsch 1974:98s). Rosenthal first dem- onstrated that Gerard had at his disposal the Arabic text, and did not depend on a translation (see Rosenthal 1960– 1961:150). Before 1402, the Latin version was translated into French by Guillaume of Tignonville (d. 1414). It quickly became a success, and numerous manuscripts are known (see Anawati 1959–1961 and Rosenthal 1960– 1961, who both mention a number of early modern printed editions as well). The first critical edition of the text was given by Roder Eder in 1915. A Provençal translation is also known and has been partly published, but its date has not been established (see Brunel 1939). Because of this success, the French translation was rapidly translated into English. The first translation, made in 1450 by Stephen Scrope, was later on corrected by William of Worcester, who added some extra materials to the Socrates and Ptolemy chapters (see Schofield 1936:31). A second and better translation was realized by the Earl Ryvers, between 1474 and 1477. The book was printed in England on November 18, 1477, by William Caxton, among the first books ever printed on English soil with a print which he had brought back with him from Brugges. Mubashshir ibn Fātik was honored with an early and thorough diffusion, comparable in his time only to the Bible and the Alexander Novel. The very fact that an 818 M Music, Medieval Mubashshir ibn Fātik (1958) Los Bocados de (critical edition of the Arabic original) Badawı̄. Instituto Egypcio de Estudios Islamicos, Madrid Mubashshir ibn Fātik (1971) ed. Crombach M. Bocados de Oro. PhD dissertation (containing a critical edition Wiedemann E (trans) (1906) Ibn al-Haitham, ein In: Festschrift J. Rosenthal. Leipzig, pp 147–178 Yāqūt al-Hamawı̄ (1993) Muʿjam al-udabā᾽ al-udabā᾽) ed. Ih: sān ʿAbbās. Secondary Sources Anawati G (1959–1961) Compte-rendu de ʿA. Oro. MIDEO 6:253–259 Bonebakker SA (1960) Book-review of Mubashshir Bocados de Oro. Bibl Orient 17 3–4:212b–214a Brunel C (1939) Une traduction provençale Guillaume de Tignonville. Bibliothèque 100:309–328 Cottrell E (2004–2005) Le Kitâb Nuzhat al-Arwâh Shams al-Dı̂n al-Shahrazûrı̂ l’Ishrâqı̂: Annuaire de l’École Pratique des Hautes religieuses t. 113:383–387 Daftary F (1990) The Ismāʿı̄lı̄s: their University Press, Cambridge Doufikar-Aerts F (2003) Alexander Magnus Arabicus. Arabische Alexandertraditie: van Pseudo-Callisthenes dissertation, Leiden University Press, Leiden Franceschini E (1930) Il Liber Philosophorum Memorie della reale accademia nazionale CCCXXVII (1930), Serie VI, vol III, Fasc V, Venice, 354–399 Franceschini E (1931–1932) Il Liber Philosophorum moralium antiquorum. Atti del Reale Istituto Veneto Arti. t. XCI. Venice, 2:393–597 Grand’Henry J (1979–1984) Le Livre de la Ridwān (998–1067) (Publications de l’Institut Université Catholique de Louvain, Louvain-la-Neuve Gutas D (1975) Greek wisdom literature in Arabic the Graeco-Arabic gnomologia. American Oriental 60. American Oriental Society, New Haven Gutas D (1981) Classical arabic wisdom literature J Am Oriental Soc 101:49–86 Hamarneh S (1979) Medicine and pharmacology under the fatimids. Hamdard Medicus 22:33–69 Khalil S (1998) Les versions arabes chrétiennes In: Finazzi RB, Valvo A (eds) La diffusione nell’etá tardoantica e medievale. Il e altri scritti. Atti del Seminario internazionale Napoli, 25–27 settembre 1997). Edizioni 227–247 Kuentz Ch (1957) De la sagesse grecque à la review of Mubashshir ibn Fātik, Los Bocados Istituto egipcio de estudios islamicos 5:255–26 Kunitzsch P (1974) Die Syntaxis Mathematica in arabisch-lateinischer Überlieferung. Otto Harassowitz, Wiesbaden Merkle K (1921) Die Sittensprüche der Philosophen Falāsifa’’ von Honein ibn Ish: âq ˙ ibn ʿAlı̂ al-Ans:ârı̂ (. . .). Inauguraldissertation, Fakultät. . . München, 8. Juli 1910. Overwien O (2005) Die Sprüche des Kynikers Diogenes in der griechischen und arabischen Überlieferung. Boethius, was a liberal discipline pertaining to ethics as well as to reason: it was a body of immutable knowledge requiring study for mastery. Consequently, De institutione musica aimed to quantify music through the study of ratios, proportions, intervals, and sound. Boethius’ definition of the true musician – the scholar who can criticize poetic compositions or instrumental performance – is a function of the centrality of intellect to his approach: the practice of music, with pejorative connotations of manual activity characteristic of the igno- ble, was perceived negatively because it lacked any sort of rationality. Boethius’ De institutione musica enjoyed a far wider dissemination than did the six books of St Augustine’s De musica (completed between 387 and 391; ed. Jacobsson 2002), which were concerned mainly with rhythm and metrics. Far more influential were St Augustine’s many remarks on music scattered throughout his other works: they show both his endorsement of music for its ability to uplift the spirit and his condemnation of it for its ability to distract. Although medieval thinkers generally took St Augustine’s positive comments to heart and ignored his criticisms, many, such as St Thomas Aquinas, vacillated in true Augustinian fashion. More immediately important for the formation of opinions on music were the encyclopedists Cassiodorus (c. 487–c. 580) and Isidore of Seville (c. 560–c. 636). Their works became standard reference works, transmitting much information, as well as speculation, on ancient music and its rudiments. A subtle shift from the Boethian definition of music and its dismissal of practice is apparent in Cassiodorus and Isidore. From Cassiodorus’ Institutiones 2.3.21 (ed. Mynors 1937) came the influential definition that whereas ‘‘mathematical science is that sci- ence which considers abstract quantity,’’ music is the divi- sion of it ‘‘that treats of numbers in relation to those things that are found in sounds.’’ Although the introduction to Isidore’s Etymologies (ed. Lindsay 1911) classifies music as a liberal discipline, other sections describe it in terms of the varieties of chant, with the result that five of the nine sections concerned with music are practical in their approach. This surely hints that, by the time Isidore was writing, scholars were already struggling to apply the Classical view of music to the new liturgical music of the post-Roman West. The Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle influenced music in different very ways. Prior to the rediscovery of Plato’s works in the twelfth century, only part of Timaeus (17a–53b) was known. It was available in the translation by Calcidius (c. 256–c. 357), whose accompanying com- mentary incorporated various middle- and Neoplatonic 820 M Music, Medieval emphasis evident in Isidore’s Etymologies has already been mentioned; it is even more apparent in his De ecclesiasticis officiis (ed. Lawson 1989), which deals with music from a liturgical point of view. Nevertheless, even though there was a fundamental dichotomy between Boethian theory and the requirements of the post-Roman West, Boethius was to some extent assimilated by western Europe’s earli- est post-Classical theorists in the Carolingian period, who applied him to western plainchant: he provided the vocab- ulary for music theory, while they provided the model for its use. The music that Boethius described, however, had nothing to do with church music. Until about the ninth century there was no real modal organization in western chant. It was the Carolingian thinker Aurelian of Réôme who, in his Musica disciplina of c. 840–c. 850, first described a modal organization of western plainchant in writing (ed. Gushee 1975). Aurelian assumed that Boe- thius was relevant to plainchant and adopted the names of the ancient Greek tonoi for the new western modes. Others followed his example, including the tenth-century author of Alia musica (ed. Chailley 1968), who appropriated Boethius’ table of octave-species for each tonos to furnish names for his own modal octaves, in the process inverting Boethius’ layout. Carolingian music treatises focus above all on the rudiments and classification of ecclesiastical music (‘‘Gre- gorian chant’’) and thus have limited scope for philosoph- ical material. Where this does occur, it is largely peripheral and draws mainly on sources such as Cassiodorus and Isidore. At the same time as scholars were writing such treatises, others were commenting upon Boethius, Macrobius, and Martianus Capella. Many of these com- mentaries and glosses – which are now beginning to be studied – deal with the cosmological aspects of the source texts. Perhaps the most sophisticated integration of philo- sophical thought with practical music during the central Middle Ages is to be found in the music treatises written by a group of monks and clerks working in Salian Germany (1024–1125): the ‘‘south-German circle’’ of music theo- rists (McCarthy 2008). These scholars were among the foremost intellectuals of their age, making valuable con- tributions in disciplines such as theology, liturgy, history, chronology, astronomy, and geometry, as well as fre- quently playing leading roles in contemporary ecclesiasti- cal politics. Abbot Bern of Reichenau (d. 1048) was the founding father of this circle: his teaching was modified by his pupil Herman of Reichenau (1013–1054) and absorbed by figures such as William of Hirsau (d. 1091), Aribo (fl. 1070–1078), Frutolf of Michelsberg (d. 1103), and Theoger of Metz (c. 1050–c. 1120). musical phenomena: for example, Herman of Reichenau declared that the two octaves of the monochord ‘‘are not said to be born twice, but that those already born, in the manner of the seven days of the week, are repeated or renewed’’ (Musica 1; ed. Ellinwood 1936). Elsewhere, Aribo criticized a faulty technical description of the monochord as ‘‘perverse’’ because it confused the natural order of the monochord ‘‘which never departs from her own nature’’ (drawn from Timaeus 50bc), while praising his own alternative description in avowedly Platonic terms (ed. Smits van Waesberghe 1951). The use of such natural imagery by these thinkers mirrors a wider contemporary trend toward metaphors of generation and growth. It also points to a growing expression of Platonic thought in a Christian context and the personification of natura. A number of contemporary authors employ the idea of an artificer behind creation: Bern of Reichenau describes an artifex natura (Prologus in tonarium 4) and Theoger of Metz a creatrix natura (Musica 8, ed. Lochner 1995), while the widely read German author Honorius Augustodunensis (c. 1080/1090–c. 1156) speaks of a similar artisan who made the universe ‘‘like a great zither upon which he placed strings to yield a variety of sounds’’ (Liber XII questionibus 2). The south-German theorists, therefore, sought to combine the practical and philosophical aspects of music because they believed practice to be a reflexion of nature. This charac- teristic distinguished them from other European thinkers. The important Italian music theorist Guido of Arezzo, for example, chose to ignore the philosophical aspects of music in his treatises (Micrologus, Regule rithmice, Prologus in antiphonarium, and Epistola ad Michahelem; ed. Smits van Waesberghe 1955; Pesce 1999), commenting that Boethius was useful to philosophers but not musi- cians. Conversely, eleventh- and early twelfth-century French scholars such as Bernard and Thierry of Chartres, William of Conches, and Bernard Silvestris were more exclusively cosmological in their discussions of the Neo- platonic aspects of music: this is true of William of Conches, for example, in his glosses on Timaeus (ed. Jeauneau 2006). The distinguished teacher Hugh of St Victor (c. 1096–c. 1141), in his Didascalison of c. 1130 (ed. Buttimer 1939) described music as a liberal art encompassing both practical and intellectual aspects. In doing this he was following the example of the German theorists who articulated most coherently an understanding of music that must have been wide- spread among the educated in the central Middle Ages. Yet Hugh’s pupil, Richard of St Victor, reverted to the exclusively impractical Boethian classification of music as a liberal art a few years later in his Liber exceptionum (ed. Châtillon 1958). 822 M Music, Medieval and universities (on the quaestiones genre in the university context see Duhamel 2007). The summa genre, which was such a feature of thirteenth- and fourteenth-century scho- lasticism, was also applied to music. The Speculum doctrinale by the Dominican scholar Vincent of Beauvais (c. 1190–c. 1264) brings together authors with very differ- ent views of music such as Boethius, Isidore, Richard of St Victor, and the Arab theorist al-Fārābı̄ (whose works were by then available in Latin translations). In one sense, summae responded to the concerns underlying such early twelfth-century manuals as Honorius Augustodunensis’ De animae exsilio et patria or Hugh of St Victor’s Didascalicon, which grappled with the fracture of the accepted curriculum of the seven liberal arts on account of new studies, such as theology or canon law. Late medieval discussions about the philosophical and cosmological natures of music occurred in tandem with the production of more practical music treatises. New technical preoccupations, such as the expansion of polyphony and rhythm, required codification and expla- nation through theoretical literature. Although many of these treatises were written outside the scholastic milieu, a number of university-based scholars contributed able practical treatises. The challenge to determine the time values of notes arising out of the development of polyphony can be seen behind the treatise of Johannes de Grocheo (fl. c. 1300), who dismissed the arithmetical speculations of Boethius in favour of an Aristotelian empiricism. Yet de Grocheo was still concerned with the nature of music, substituting a different division for Boe- thius’ division and following Aristotle in discussing the social uses of secular music. Jehan de Muris 1351), who taught at Paris, reaffirmed on the authority of Aristotle and Boethius the primacy of theoretical knowl- edge over practical experience and gave mathematical theorems for the measurement of rhythm in contempo- rary mensural notation in his influential Notitia artis musicae of c. 1321. De Muris was primarily a philosopher and mathematician for whom music was a secondary interest. This is reflected in his use of the language of scholasticism, more familiar to university- trained scholars than to practical musicians. Nevertheless, the overtly scholastic technique of his writing diminish its importance for contemporaries. Along with Philippe de Vitry (1291–1361), de Muris sought to justify the novelties behind the new musical art of the fourteenth century – in this case from a scholastic point of view. In a sense, de Muris was engaged in the same project south-German circle two centuries earlier: the use of ancient philosophical wisdom to demonstrate the validity of a particular musical practice. By contrast, the institutione arithmetica libri duo, De institutione musica libri quinque. Accedit geometria quae fertur Boetii. Minerva, Leipzig (repr. Frankfurt am Main, 1966) Boethius (2005) In: Moreschini C (ed) De consolatione philosophiae, 2nd edn. K. G. Saur, Munich Cassiodorus (1937) Institutiones. In: Mynors RAB (ed) Cassiodori senatoris Institutiones. Oxford Clarendon Press, Oxford Chailley J (ed) (1968) Alia musica (Traité de musique Edition critique commentée avec une introduction nomenclature modale pseudo-grecque au Moyen-Age. Publications de l’Institut de Musicologie de l’Université Documentation Universitaire. et S. E. D. E. S., Paris de Muris Jehan (1972) Notitia artis musicae. In: Michels U (ed) Corpus scriptorum de musica 17. American Institute of Frutolf of Michelsberg (1919) Breviarium de musica. In: Vivell C (ed) Frutolfi Breviarium de musica et Tonarius. Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien. Philosophische historische Klasse. In Kommission bei A. Holder, Sitzungsberichte 188/2 Guido of Arezzo (1955) Micrologus. In: Smits van Waesberghe J (ed) Micrologus Guidonis Aretini. Corpus scriptorum de musica 4. American Institute of Musicology, Rome Guido of Arezzo (1999) Epistola ad Michahelem, Prologus in antiphonarium, Regule rithmice. In: Pesce D (ed and trans) Guido d’Arezzo’s Regule rithmice, Prologus in antiphonarium ad Michahelem: a critical text and translation. Wissenschaftliche Abhandlungen 73. Institute of Mediaeval Music, Ottawa Herman of Reichenau (1936) Musica. In: Ellinwood L (ed and trans) Musica Hermanni Contracti. Eastman School of Music, University of Rochester, Rochester Honorius Augustodunensis. De animae exsilio et patri, seu de artibus. Patrologia Latina 172:1241–1246 Honorius Augustodunensis. Liber XII quaestionibus. PL 172:1177–1186 Hugh of St Victor (1939) Didascalicon. In: Buttimer CH (ed) Hugonis de Sancto Victore Didascalicon de studio legendi: Catholic University of America. Studies in medieval Latin 10. Catholic University of America Press, Washington Isidore of Seville (1989) De ecclesiasticis officiis. Sancti Isidori episcopi hispalensis De ecclesiasticis Turnhout Isidore of Seville (1911) Etymologiae. In: Lindsay WM (ed) Isidori Hispalensis episcopi Etymologiarum sive originum libri XX, 2 vols. Oxford Clarendon Press, Oxford Macrobius (1970) Commentarius in Somnium Scipionis. In: Willis J (ed) Ambrosii Theodosii Macrobii. In Somnium Scipionis commentarios selecta varietate lectionis ornavit Iacobus Willis, scriptorum Graecorum et Romanorum Teubneriana. Teubner, Leipzig (repr. 1994) Martianus Capella (1983) De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii. In: Willis J (ed) Martianus Capella opera. Teubner, Leipzig Plato (1975) Timaeus. In: Waszink JH (ed) Timaeus a Calcidio translatus commentarioque instructus, 2nd edn. Plato Latinus 4. Brill, London Candido and he authored a Greek Grammar that had a wide circulation as textbook. His teaching influenced the art criticism of Renaissance by relating art works to literary works and by insisting on the importance of the artist as the efficient cause of Art and the public as the intelligent agent. As to his ideology, this scholar who is said that his teaching had a strong political motive, in his work on the Comparison of the Old and the New Rome, he insisted on Constantinople’s lineage to Ancient Rome. His posthumous fame was somehow limited because the Ital- ian humanists’ scholarly activity to which he had greatly contributed had grown strong autonomously. Biography The Byzantine author, professor, and scholar Manuel Chrysoloras was born in Constantinople around 1350 in a noble family. Very little is known about the first half of his life until he came to Venice in 1390–1391 with a diplomatic mission. Later he was invited to teach Greek in Florence where he started professing in 1397 with a contract of 5 years. But he was not to spend all this time in Florence because in 1400 he left his position probably in order to join the emperor Manuel II Palaiologos who came to the West seeking help to save the Byzantine Empire from the Ottoman threat. For the rest of his life, Chrysoloras will carry out mainly diplo- matic missions, traveling in the service of his country, and only secondarily will assume scholarly and teaching work. In late 1405 or in 1406 he will ask the papal permission to be converted to the Latin dogma and perform the Latin rite; the permission was granted but Chrysoloras never undertook any priestly duties. He died in 1415 while attending the Council of Constance in Switzerland in a last effort to convince the Westerners to help Byzantium. His fame rests principally on his teaching activity in Florence as the first Greek to hold public teaching office in Italy. Neither Barlaam the Calabrian nor Leonzio Pilato, who preceded him and taught Petrarch and Boccaccio, could equal him in importance and fame. As it has been noted, ‘‘from at least the eighteenth century, when scholars first began to discuss the ‘Italian Renaissance’ as a cultural phenomenon, the importance of Manuel Chrysoloras, the first notable professor of Greek in DOI 10.1007/978-1-4020-9729-4, and vocabulary) and historice (what we should call ‘‘back- ground material’’) (Thomson 1966:66–67). Chrysoloras insisted that for the students to discuss the subject of every lesson was part of a learning technique; he also insisted on the pedagogical value of translating from Greek into Latin. He criticized the literary, word by word, translation as well as the free translation that betrayed the original; he promoted a midway between these two practices, a mean that would accomplish the comprehension of an author’s spirit and its rendering to another language (transferre ad sententiam). His work as an author has been less valued, but this view is beginning to change. His writings are not many but they give insight to the profile of a scholar that was more than the right man at the right place for the right job. His most known work is a Greek Grammar, the first in the western world, which under the title Erôtêmata had a very wide circulation as a manuscript and later was repeatedly published in numerous editions. He translated Plato’s Republic with the help of one of his pupils, Uberto Decembrio (and this one’s son Pier Candido), since Chrysoloras’ use of Latin was rather moderate. The rest of his work consisted mainly of letters, some extensive, that give an image of his philosophical, literary, and edu- cational ideas. Chrysoloras appears to have influenced the art criticism of the Renaissance mainly through his pupil Guarino da Verona. We see in him the idea of the visual arts’ inferiority as to the written word through a transposition of the Byzantine ekphrasis (rhetorical description of works of art). Although the rhetoricism of ekphrasis does not help the establishment of critical cate- gories about the fine arts, it nevertheless facilitates the connection between visual representations and the literary universe. Furthermore, Chrysoloras wrote that ‘‘the rep- resentations are praised in proportion to the degree in which they seem to resemble their originals. . .[but they] rather do indicate a certain nobility in the intellect that admires them;’’ what he is actually saying is not proper to Byzantine icons’ aesthetics and although the frame is traditional, Chrysoloras’ conclusions are related neither to commonplaces of Byzantine Aristotelianism nor to the views of the Iconophiles (the supporters of the icons) of Byzantium. It is the artistic sensibility, the efficient cause of art, that takes, thus, priority over the subject matter, a turn that conforms perfectly to the highly valued role of the artist in the Renaissance Art (Baxandall 1965:198–199). Regarding the content of Chrysoloras’ ‘‘philosophy,’’ it has been said that he belonged to the Palaiologian revival of letters in Byzantium, which nonetheless covered more than one ideological tendency and thus Chrysoloras’ Marsilius of Inghen M 711 Thomson I (1966) Manuel Chrysoloras and the early Italian Renaissance. GRBS 7:63–82 Thorn-Wickert L (2066) Manuel Chrysoloras (ca. 1350–1415). Peter Lang, Bonner Romanistische Arbeiten, Frankfurt am Main, Band 92 kai Marsilius of Inghen MAARTEN J. F. M. HOENEN Philosophisches Seminar Universität Freiburg Freiburg im Breisgau Germany Abstract Marsilius of Inghen belonged with William of Ockham and John Buridan to those thinkers who substantially shaped late-medieval Nominalism. He taught in Paris and Heidelberg and left behind a significant number of writings that were used as set texts at many universities in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, especially in the German Empire. Characteristic was his rejection of real universals outside the human mind (Realism) and his M distinction between the approaches of natural reason and faith. He was also known for his dismissal of the notion of ‘‘suppositio simplex,’’ his defense of an eleventh category, and his criticism of the Aristotelian theory of motion. His thought was appreciated by Humanists and Spanish Scholastics. Biography Marsilius of Inghen, born in or around Nijmegen (Netherlands) in the 1340s, was one the most influential thinkers of the late-medieval period. His lectures drew large audiences and his writings were read at many uni- versities. He received his philosophical education at the University of Paris, where he became active as a Master of Arts in 1362, purportedly remarkably young of age. tra l’ Antica e Nicolas Prowin, in his funeral speech, highlighted that Cortassa G), UTET, Marsilius was not yet 20 when he earned his Master’s degree. As a Master, he had many students, especially from the region around Nijmegen, who went on to become teachers at local schools. It was perhaps for this reason that the City of Nijmegen honored him with a copious banquet in 1382. Marsilius was rector of the University of Paris in 1367 and in 1371, and procurator of s. the so-called ‘‘natio anglicana’’ from 1373 to 1375. He also represented the University at the Papal Court in Avignon in 1377–1378. Most likely due to troubles related to the Metaphysica; (6) commentaries on two books from the Scriptures, namely, Daniel and Matthew; and finally (7) a commentary on Peter Lombard’s Sentences. All of these works arose out of his teaching, which is to say, his reading of the works of Aristotle, Peter Lombard, and the Scriptures in the classroom. Notably, his com- mentaries on Aristotle were structured in a manner very similar to those of John Buridan and Nicholas Oresme. Even the titles of the many questions addressed were similar, although the solutions differed. As a rule, these questions followed the text of Aristotle sequentially, though not all parts were discussed. Marsilius followed the same structure in his commentary on Lombard’s Sentences, although the arguments in it were much more elaborate, and referred to a wide array of sources. Only a small number of his writings are available in a modern critical edition. Several of his treatises were printed in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Approxi- mately thirty-five modern libraries contain manuscript copies of his works, particularly libraries in Erfurt, Krakow, Munich, and Vienna. The strict format of his writings may create the impression that their content is uniform and formalistic; however, this is not the case. Marsilius imbued his writings with a personal outlook through the sharpness of his mind and his individual approach to a number of problems. to Buridan as Main Thoughts the latter. Universals and Supposition Theory A clear theme throughout Marsilius’ works is the convic- tion that there are no real universals. Reality consists only of individuals, which can be signified by written or spoken words or by concepts in the human mind. Things that are similar can be signified and made known by the same name or concept. This is, for example, the case with the concept of ‘‘tree,’’ which refers both to an oak and to a beach. Universality, therefore, is a property of names and concepts that refer to like individuals. These names and concepts are themselves individual: each human being has his own concept of ‘‘tree’’ even if this concept signifies the same tree as that of another human being. This theory, which he shared with William of Ockham, John Buridan, and many other contemporaries, had a direct impact on his theory of logic. In his treatise, On supposition, for example, he maintains that older logicians (like Peter of Spain) used a special kind of supposition, namely, suppositio simplex, to refer to the use of a term or concept that stands for a universal thing. Since, to Marsil- ius, there are no universal things, this type of supposition was senseless and should be abolished, since it confused Marsilius of Inghen M 713 possible or impossible in each particular case, even if this is in opposition to faith. Nor is his approach to these two views in his commentaries on Aristotle always the same. In some cases both views are dealt with extensively, in others he merely comments that according to faith things are different, but that he would not enter into the view of faith, as that was not the task of the philosopher, but of the theologian. For Marsilius, natural reason is human thought based solely on sense-perception (experientia) and on self- evident principles (principia per se nota). To him this is essentially identical to what Aristotle said in his writings, for example, that nothing can come from nothing. Only very rarely are there instances in which he criticizes Aristotle for saying something not in agreement with sense-perception or self-evident principles most prominently, in the case of the theory of movement, as we will see below. The juxtaposition of the views of natural reason (Aristotle) and of faith occurs so frequently, both in his philosophical and theological writings, that it indeed seems programmatic. This is most clearly observed in his Abbreviationes librorum physicorum, which were writ- ten in Paris (as can be deduced from examples in which he repeatedly referred to the towers of Notre Dame and of M St. Geneviève). In this treatise, both views are often presented in different sets of statements intended to make clear what their presuppositions are and under which conditions they could be accepted. A good case in point is the discussion of the eternity of the world. Here, Marsilius begins with a number of statements accepted both by Aristotle and by the believer. He then continues with statements held by Aristotle and rejected by the believer, such as that the movement of the heavens is eternal. At the end of this list, he remarks that although these statements must be accepted by all who use only the senses, nonetheless, the opposite is in fact true, as faith maintains. Marsilius also follows this procedure in his discussion of other topics in the Abbreviationes librorum physicorum. For example, he argues that for Aristotle and natural reason (1) creation from nothing is impossible, (2) the first principle cannot act on earth without the assistance of the heavens, (3) an imaginary space outside of the heavens must be infinite, (4) the existence of a vacuum cannot be accepted, (5) the heavens cannot move faster than they actually do, (6) the first principle has no infinite power, and (7) the first principle is not everywhere. On all of these points he explains that faith, since it accepts divine omnip- otence, asserts a differing or opposite position. Remark- ably, for Marsilius, natural reason alone is not able to Categories, Motion, Univocity of Substantial and Accidental Being There are also other striking views put forth by Marsilius in his commentaries on Aristotle. For example, com- menting on the Logica vetus, he argues that alongside the ten traditional categories, an additional eleventh must be accepted, namely, the category of signs. This view was much discussed in the late Middle Ages. Some thinkers saw it as rooted in the works of John Duns Scotus, although there was general agreement that Marsilius was the inventor of the eleventh category. Among its main defenders, next to Marsilius, was the Nominalist Johannes Parreut, who discussed the problems attached to this view elaborately in his Exercitata veteris artis, with reference to Marsilius. Realist authors, however, saw in it a deviation from Aristotle, and accordingly rejected the view as completely absurd. In his commentary on the Physics, Marsilius follows Buridan in asserting that the motion of a projectile is not caused by air being pressed away from the top of the projectile and then pushing the projectile from behind, as Aristotle had thought. According to Marsilius, this runs counter to the observation that a projectile hitting the ground bounces upwards, even though, on the ground, there is no air to push the projectile from behind. Its motion therefore needs to be explained otherwise, namely, by assuming that the mover transfers to the projectile a certain quality, which in turn causes the motion a quality which some, he adds, call ‘‘impetus’’. At the same time, Marsilius was fully aware that this theory too had its difficulties, although it was the better alternative. Also noteworthy is a passage from his commentary on the Metaphysics, in which he argues that there is no univ- ocal concept of substance and accident. In itself, this theory was unexceptional and quite in accordance with the traditional interpretation of Aristotle. However, in this case, things are more complicated. Marsilius writes that on this point he disagrees with Buridan, who had followed the common view held by many theologians. According to this common view, it is possible to have a univocal concept of substance and accident if transubstantiation is taken into consideration, as is the case with faith. During tran- substantiation, the accidents of the substances of bread and wine (their shape, taste, and color) remain for a short moment without a bearer, as the substances are replaced by the substance of Christ. These accidents do, therefore, rightly exist by themselves, just as do substances by nature. Therefore, it is possible to have a univocal concept of both, notwithstanding the fact that accidents cannot exist natu- rally without a bearer. However, Marsilius does not agree with this view. When commenting on the Metaphysics, Marsilius of Inghen M 715 construct his arguments. He not only quoted William of Ockham, Adam Wodeham, Robert Holcot, and Gregory of Rimini authors considered to be forerunners of later- medieval Nominalism, but also Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Giles of Rome and Thomas of Strasbourg, the principal authorities of the Realists. The modern reader may be confused by the fact that an alleged Nominalist author quoted so many Realist authorities. However, Nominalist authors prided themselves on using all impor- tant authors who had contributed to the solution of the problem, even those used by their adversaries some- thing which they claimed Realists were unwilling to do. Due to the immense number of problems addressed, the work may be considered an encyclopedia of late- medieval knowledge. The themes addressed range from the divine nature and problems related to the creation of angels and human beings, to Christological issues, the sacraments, and the final judgment. Marsilius shows a strong awareness of scientific methodology and applies logical tools throughout the book, despite remarking that one should not overvalue the use of logic in theology. It is difficult to distinguish one particular theological line of theological reasoning, since he builds upon very different traditions, even Neoplatonic ones, as in his discussion of the theory of divine ideas. However, here too, as in the M commentaries on Aristotle, the reader is struck by the careful distinction made at certain points between faith and natural reason. According to Marsilius, it is possible to prove that the heavens are not coeternal with God, pro- vided one accepts that God is omnipotent, as does faith. The concepts of ‘‘heaven’’ or ‘‘creature’’ and ‘‘coeternal with God’’ exclude each other as much as those of ‘‘horse’’ and ‘‘bullock,’’ Marsilius writes. This is notewor- thy, since in his commentaries on Aristotle he gave one to understand that, for the unaided natural reason, the con- cepts of ‘‘heaven’’ and ‘‘coeternal with God’’ are necessarily linked. From this, it once more becomes clear how differ- ent his approach was from that of Thomas Aquinas, even though he regularly quoted the Angelic Doctor on other occasions. According to Thomas Aquinas, whether illumi- nated by faith or not, human reason has to admit that both statements are possible, namely, that P ‘‘The heavens are coeternal with God’’ and – P ‘‘The heavens are not coeternal with God.’’ But for Marsilius, this is not the case. If natural reason is illuminated by faith, it must admit that – P is impossible. If, on the other hand, it does not accept faith, it must hold the opposite, namely than P is possible, even necessary. If Luther, in his famous Disputatio theologica of 1539, rebuked Parisian theolo- gians for claiming that the same thing was true in theology which was also true in philosophy, he may have been Marsilius de Inghen (1516) Quaestiones super libros Priorum analyticorum. s.n. Venice (repr. Minerva, Frankfurt Main, 1968) Marsilius de Inghen (1521) Abbreviationes super octo libros Physicorum Aristotelis. Octavianus Scotus, Venice Marsilius de Inghen (1983) Treatises on the properties of terms. In: Bos EP (ed) A first critical edition of the Suppositiones, Ampliationes, Appelationes, Restrictiones, and Alienationes. Reidel, Dordrecht Marsilius de Inghen (2000a) In: Santos Noya M (ed) Quaestiones super where Nom- quattuor libros Sententiarum, vol 1 (Super primum, Quaestiones 1–7). Brill, Leiden Marsilius de Inghen (2000b) In: Santos Noya M (ed) Quaestiones super quattuor libros Sententiarum, vol 2 (Super primum, Quaestiones 8–21). Brill, Leiden Marsilius de Inghen (2008) Gedenkschrift 1499 zum einhundertsten Not even Todestag des Gründungsrektors der Universität Heidelberg. Mattes, Heidelberg on Aris- Secondary Sources Bakker PJJM (2001) Aristotelian metaphysics and eucharistic theology: John Buridan and Marsilius of Inghen on the ontological status of accidental being. In: Thijssen JMMH, Zupko J (eds) The meta- physics and natural philosophy of John Buridan. Brill, Leiden, pp 247–264 Bakker PJJM (2002) Inhérence, univocité et séparabilité des accidents eucharistiques. In: Solère JL, Kaluza Z (eds) La servante et la consolatrice. La philosophie dans des rapports avec la théologie au Moyen Âge. Vrin, Paris, pp 193–245 (contains partial editions of works of Buridan and Marsilius) Braakhuis HAG (1997) John Buridan and the ‘Parisian School’ on the possibility of returning as numerically the same. A note on a chapter in the history of the relationship between faith and natural science. In: Caroti S, Souffrin P (eds) La nouvelle physique du XIVe siècle. Olschki, Florenz, pp 111–140 are real Braakhuis HAG, Hoenen MJFM (eds) (1992) Marsilius of Inghen. Ingenium, Nijmegen (contains partial editions of works of Marsilius) Hoenen MJFM (1989–1990) Marsilius von Inghen: Bibliographie. Bulle- tin de Philosophie Médiévale 31–21, 150–167, 191–195 Hoenen MJFM (1993) Marsilius of Inghen. Divine knowledge in late medieval thought. Brill, Leiden Hoenen MJFM (2002) The commentary on the Sentences of Marsilius of Inghen. In: Evans GR (ed) Mediaeval commentaries on the Sentences of Peter Lombard. Brill, Leiden, pp 465–506 Hoenen MJFM, Bakker PJJM (eds) (2002) Philosophie und Theologie des ausgehenden Mittelalters. Marsilius von Inghen und das Denken seiner Zeit. Brill, Leiden (contains partial editions of works of Marsilius) s Markowski M (1988) Katalog dziel Marsyliusza z Inghen z ewidencja rekopisow. Studia Mediewistyczne 25:39–132 Marshall P (1983) Parisian psychology in the mid-fourteenth century. Archives d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du Moyen Age 50:101–193 Möhler W (1949) Die Trinitätslehre des Marsilius von Inghen. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Theologie des Spätmittelalters. Lahn, Limburg Peter Friedberg, Mainz Reina ME (1994) Comprehensio veritatis. Una questione di Marsilio di Inghen sulla Metafisica. In: Bianchi L (ed) Filosofia e teologia nel (repr. Minerva, Frankfurt trecento. Studi in ricordo di Eugenio Randi. Fédération Internationale des Instituts d’Études Médiévales, Louvain-la-Neuve, De generatione et pp 283–335 (repr. Minerva, Frank- Reina ME (2002) Hoc hic et nunc. Buridano, Marsilio di Inghen e la conoscenza del singolare. Olschki, Firenze Marsilius of Padua M 717 von Inghen und minor (c. 1342), a large portion of which deals with ques- Heidelberg tions of excommunication and the plenitudo potestatis. Wirkung. Akten esses. Biography Marsilius de’ Mainardini (1270/1290–1342) was born in a family with a tradition in the legal profession in the Northern Italian city of Padua (Miethke 2000, Pincin 1967). Information about Marsilius’ youth is scarce and derives from a poem that Albertino Mussato (1261–1329), the famous Paduan poet and historian, dedicated to him. Mussato relates there in a jocular tone Marsilius’ dilemma whether to study medicine or law and how the latter sought Mussato’s advice concerning his future studies. Marsilius went to Paris to study arts and medicine prob- ably after a period of studying in his home town with Peter of Abano (1257-c. 1316), one of the major figures in the history of medieval natural philosophy and medicine and professor at Paris and since 1307 in Padua. In December 1312, Marsilius was elected rector of the University of Paris for a period of 3 months. As a holder of that office, he had access to the French royal council as well as to the papal curia in Avignon. The most significant event in Marsilius’ stay in Paris was his association with John of Jandun (between 1285 and 1289–1328), a foremost com- mentator on Aristotle and Master of Arts at the Collège de M Navarre, who has been considered one of the leading figures of Latin Averroism (Brenet 2003; MacClintock 1956). Between 1316 and 1318 Marsilius was promised by John XXII a benefice in Padua, but this was not realized. In 1319, he was sent as the emissary of Matteo Visconti and Cangrande della Scalla I, the signori of Milan and Verona, respectively, to Charles de la Marche (the future Charles IV of France), soliciting for the latter’s support against Robert of Naples and offering him the captaincy of the Ghibelline league. The negotiations bore no fruit and Marsilius returned to Paris. In 1324 Marsilius completed his chef-d’æuvre, the Defensor pacis (Defender of Peace), which he dedicated to Louis IV of Bavaria. The Defensor pacis contains a fierce attack on papal power and was regarded as a joint work of Marsilius and John of Jandun. Despite its polemical intent, it did not provoke immediate reactions on the side of the papacy and Marsilius and John lived undisturbed in the French capital for a certain period after its publication: Marsilius borrowed money and announced courses in 1326, and John signed a lifetime lease on a house. In the summer of 1326, Marsilius and John fled to the court of Louis of Bavaria, in Nuremberg, which would host a galaxy of eminent excommunicated Franciscans, such as Michael of Cesena, Bonagratia of Bergamo, William of Ockham, and Francis of Marchia. predecessor reveals marked differences (Syros 2007; Nederman 1995a; Miethke 1989; Gewirth 1951). Marsilius’ declared purpose in the Defensor pacis is to lay bare the singular cause of strife and dissension that afflicted the cities of Italy in his own time, that is, the papacy’s attempt to involve itself in and controls temporal affairs. The quest for the efficient cause of political phe- nomena assumes a normative importance in Marsilius’ thought. For instance, he identifies the efficient cause of the political community, its laws and its government. Following Cicero, rather than Aristotle, Marsilius ascribes the creation of human communities to the human need for self-preservation and mutual assistance. Departing from Aristotle, Marsilius does not depict the establish- ment of the community as the work of a single individual; under the influence of Cicero’s views on the civic function of rhetoric, he presents it as the fruit of the collective will of the first ‘‘patresfamilias,’’ who were sum- moned and persuaded by prudent individuals to band together into human associations (Nederman 1992). Fam- ilies were administered according to the will of the father and villages were governed according to the judgment of their eldest members. The creation of a perfect commu- nity, on the other hand, presupposes the diversity of its constituent parts, which generates inner discord and strife. Its maintenance depends, thus, on the existence of laws and of a government with the task of regulating the rela- tions among its members. Along these lines, peace is defined by Marsilius as the orderly function of the parts of the political community, as is the case with a well- formed living organism: whereas Aristotle looks upon strife as originating from the conflict between rich and poor, for Marsilius strife is the result of the attempts of the church to gain control over temporal affairs. Human acts are classified by Marsilius into two cate- gories: transient, that is, those that can benefit or harm someone other than the agent, and immanent, that is, those whose impact concerns solely the agent himself. This classification serves Marsilius as a starting point for the demarcation of the spheres of human and divine law: human law is concerned with transient acts, divine law with the immanent acts, although these two spheres may overlap. On the basis of the aforementioned distinction of human acts, Marsilius illustrates the raison d’être and the function of the various parts of the political community, that is, to moderate the acts and passions of its members. The principal six parts of the political community are the agricultural, artisan, financial, military, judicial or delib- erative, and the sacerdotal. In allowing for the possibility that farmers, artisans, and mechanics are an integral Marsilius of Padua M 719 offices of the government. The prince should epitomize prudence and justice, virtues that are indispensable for the administration of justice, and equity, which enables the him to make decisions in case the laws exhibit gaps (con- trary to Aristotle, Marsilius does not define equity as the modification of deficient laws). Moreover, the would-be prince should be motivated by love for the existing constitution. Further, he needs coercive force (Aristotle speaks of the great capacity for running the affairs of the political community, but due to a mistake in William of Moerbeke’s translation of the Politics, Marsilius interprets this as military force), in order to be able to enforce his decisions and to punish transgressors of the laws. In illustrating the relationship between the legislator humanus and the government or the ruler, Marsilius employs Neoplatonic motifs: the legislator humanus is the primary cause and the government the secondary. Moreover, in terms of Aristotle’s biology, Marsilius sees the function of the legislator humanus as analogous to that of the soul during the creation of a living organism; the legislator humanus appoints the government as the counterpart of the heart, which is in charge of setting up, differentiating and sustaining the other parts of the political community just as the heart is in charge of creating of the other parts and organs of a living organism. Marsilius differs M from the majority of medieval thinkers in being rather indifferent to the question of the best form of government, although he does mention in passing that kingship might be the best one. His aim is rather to provide the outlines of a universal model that would be applicable to various polit- ical realities. In this sense, Marsilius makes the unity of the political community contingent not on the existence of a single ruler but on the proper and harmonious function- ing of its parts under a single government. The first part of the Defensor pacis provides much of the basis for Marsilius’ teachings about the organization of the church in the second part, although there are a number of discrepancies between them. The community of the faithful constitutes the highest authority within the church and possesses the power to nominate and appoint the clerics and to monitor them in the performance of their duties. It also has the right to decide and determine the interpreta- tion of Scripture. The latter is the task of a general council, in which the faithful or their delegates voice and discuss their opinions and vote. Marsilius views the priesthood as an integral part of the political community that performs, like the rest, a civic function. Marsilius denies the pope the right to issue decrees of coercive character and reserves for him solely the power to call an ecumenical council and to reinforce the decisions and interpretations of the latter. Miethke J (1989) Marsilius von Padua, Die politische Theorie eines lateinischen Aristotelikers des 14. Jahrhunderts. In: Boockmann H, general coun- Moeller B, Stackmann K (eds) Lebenslehren und Weltentwürfe im Übergang vom Mittelalter zur Neuzeit, Politik – Bildung – Naturkunde – Theologie. Verlag Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Göttingen, pp 52–76 Miethke J (2000) De potestate papae. Die päpstliche Amtskompetenz im Widerstreit der politischen Theorie von Thomas von Aquin bis theory, as set Wilhelm von Ockham. Mohr Siebeck, Tübingen Nederman CJ (1992) The Union of Wisdom and Eloquence before the Renaissance: the Ciceronian orator in medieval thought. J Mediev Hist 18:75–95 Nederman CJ (1995a) Community and Consent: the Secular Political Theory of Marsiglio of Padua’s defensor pacis. Rowman & Littlefield, Lanham Nederman CJ (1995b) From Defensor pacis to Defensor minor: the Problem of Empire in Marsiglio of Padua. Hist Polit Thought 16:313–329 Piaia G (1977) Marsilio da Padova nella Riforma e nella Controriforma. Fortuna e interpretazione. Antenore, Padua reading of Pincin C (1967) Marsilio. Giappichelli, Turin Quillet J (1970) La philosophie politique de Marsile de Padoue. Vrin, Paris Simonetta S (2000) Marsilio in Inghilterra. Stato e Chiesa nel pensiero politico inglese fra XIV e XVII secolo. LED, Milan Skinner Q (1978) The Foundations of Modern Political Thought vol 1: the Renaissance. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 1951/56, Sternberger D (1985) Die Stadt und das Reich in der Verfassungslehre des Marsilius von Padua, Die Stadt als Urbild: sieben politische Beiträge. Suhrkamp, Frankfurt am Main Syros V (2007) Die Rezeption der aristotelischen politischen Philosophie bei Marsilius von Padua: Eine Untersuchung zur ersten Diktion des ˙ Defensor pacis. Brill, Leiden Valois N (1906) Jean de Jandun et Marsile de Padoue, auteurs du Defensor Pacis. HLF 33:528–623 Writings on the Empire: Cambridge University Marston, Roger minor, De et annoté par C. Jeudy and ▶ Roger Marston trans) The Defender of the Defensor pacis. 2 vols iuris Germanici antiqui Martin Luther, Political Thought Hannover HARRO HÖPFL Essex Business School University of Essex d’Averroès selon Jean de Colchester UK Medieval Political Abstract in the Thought of Martin Luther (1483–1546) was a German Reformer, on the ‘‘Averroist’’ theologian, translator of the Bible into German, priest, theology professor (from 1512) at the university of Martin Luther, Political Thought M 721 continually ‘‘search’’ Scripture for him/herself. Luther rejected any distinction in spiritual dignity between a ‘‘higher’’ spiritual estate, bound by duties of ‘‘perfec- tion,’’ and a lower lay estate of which less was demanded (his ‘‘priesthood of all believers,’’ that is, their equality). He acknowledged that every community (Gemeinde, with Reich or Land his nearest approximation to ‘‘state’’) must have an ecclesiastical ‘‘estate,’’ along with a ruling (protecting) and an ‘‘economic’’ (nourishing) estate. But ecclesiastics merely occupy a distinct office (Beruf, Amt), not a higher spiritual status. Duties previously incumbent only on those in ‘‘holy orders’’ vowed to spiritual perfec- tion, therefore, now bound every Christian, or ceased to enjoy esteem, such as celibacy. These doctrines undermined the authority of the established ecclesiastico-political order and its personnel. Given the hostility of the papacy and its supporters to the fundamental reform of the whole of Christendom that Luther came to demand, only territorial ‘‘Protestant’’ or ‘‘evangelical’’ churches could be established (‘‘evangelical’’ meaning gospel or good news, ‘‘Protestant’’ alluding to the princes and estates that protested against the second Diet of Speyer’s (1529) decision to ban any further reforma- tion). Luther became increasingly convinced that the opposition of the pope and his theologians to reformation M demonstrated that the pope was the Antichrist. Provi- sional remedies such as territorial churches were therefore appropriate in this ‘‘end-time.’’ Evangelical churches depended on rulers for political support, and for protec- tion against the papacy and Catholic princes bent on eradicating ‘‘heresy,’’ but also against those who wanted to advance reformation by violence and iconoclasm. The most serious occurrences of this sort were the religio- political ‘‘Peasant Wars’’ of 1524–1525 and millennialist Münster between 1534 and 1535. The ‘‘Romanists’’ blamed them on the ‘‘heresiarch’’ Luther. Princely protec- tion was, however, often neither unconditional nor disin- terested. Luther had no intention of replacing ‘‘Romanist tyranny’’ with that of territorial overlords. His attitude to secular rulers was distinctly ambiguous. In his Appeal to the German Nobility (1520) he called on the rulers of the Holy Roman Empire to use their authority to advance reformation, since as rulers they had the right and as Christians the duty to do so. But in On Secular Authority (1523), prompted by rulers banning his German transla- the Pauline tion of the New Testament (published 1522), he condemned secular rulers generally (‘‘a good prince is a rare bird in heaven’’), and attempted to safeguard true faith and doctrine by contending that the Christian inhabits two realms (Reiche), each with its own govern- ment (Regiment), the spiritual and the secular or entirely distinct com- allegiance are coterminous. He never resiled from his position that true faith could not be coerced, and indeed that coercion was counter-productive in dealing with ‘‘weak’’ Christians. Large sections of his On Secular Authority were later reprinted verbatim in justifications for religious toleration. Equally, however, he discerned dangers to souls from bad laws, institutions and practices, and urged their forcible abolition or prevention, either out of ‘‘charity’’ to neighbors, or as matters of ‘‘natural law’’ which he regarded as, for example, prohibiting ‘‘blas- phemy,’’ which covered many ‘‘Romanist’’ practices. Luther tended to posit apparently mutually exclusive antitheses (spiritual/worldly, spirit/letter, external/internal, freedom/law, gospel/traditions of men). His mode of expres- sion was often confrontational, vituperative, and in his ver- nacular writings scatological. Disagreements with humanists like Erasmus over free will, and with other nonsectarian reformers, for example, Zwingli, over the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, proved irresolvable, since the mere fact of disagreement despite the supposedly plain meaning of Scrip- ture itself compromised the reformers’ authority. Luther’s intention had, however, never been to found a new church, still less a denomination, but to reform the old one. See also: ▶ Jesuit Political Thought ▶ John Calvin, Political Thought resistance in the Bibliography of self- Primary Sources Höpfl Harro M (trans and ed) (1991) Luther and Calvin on secular laws, less for authority. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge Luther Martin (1883) D. Martin Luthers Werke, Kritische Gesammtausgabe. Herman Böhlaus Nachfolger, Weimar Luther Martin (1990) Ausgewählte Schriften, 6 vols, ed. Bornkamm K, Ebeling G. Insel Verlag, Frankfurt a. M Luther Martin (2002) Luther’s works. In: Pelikan J, Lehmann HT (eds) (Fürsten). His Concordia, 1955–1986; available on CD-ROM. Fortress/Concordia, Philadelphia in general. Secondary Sources Cargill Thompson WDJ (1984) The political thought of Martin Luther. Barnes and Noble, Totowa church (i.e., the institu- Kaufmann T (2006) Martin Luther. C.H. Beck, München Lohse B (1999) Martin Luther’s theology: its historical and systematic believers development, Harrisville RA (ed and trans). Augsburg, Philadelphia Marius R (1999) Martin Luther: the Christian between God and death. Harvard University Press, Cambridge McGrath AE (1985) Luther’s theology of the cross. Blackwell, Oxford Skinner Q (1978) The foundations of modern political thought, vol II. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge men to true Suda MJ (2006) Die Ethik Martin Luthers. Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, Göttingen Whitford DM (2001) Tyranny and resistance: the Magdeburg confession and the Lutheran tradition. Concordia, St Louis Martin of Dacia M 723 His prominence as a medieval philosopher relies almost entirely on his De modis significandi. If we assume as certain Martin’s chronological priority over Boethius of Dacia, as scholarship tends to do (see Marmo 1994), this work is the first systematic treatment of the logical aspects of language. Along with Boethius of Dacia, Martin was one of the outstanding exponents of the first generation of the ‘‘speculative grammarians’’ or modistae. Martin’s project was to establish a new grammar departing from the existing descriptive approach and the reading of classical authors that had constituted the disci- pline’s traditional curriculum. For Martin, as for Boethius of Dacia, grammar should no longer be considered as a mere introduction to the other domains of the Trivium (such as rhetoric and logic) and the Quadrivium, but as an autonomous field of research. To this end, he developed a theory of the formal aspects of language concerned solely with the correctness of propositions and concepts and, unlike logic, not with their truth or applicability to reality. In this way he attributed a scientific status to grammar, considering it an autonomous science with its own subject matter. This autonomy had been endorsed as early as the eleventh century, but it gained further consistency under the influence of Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics, as this work defined the criteria for any possible science: the subject M matter has to be necessary and universal. As far as the criterion of necessity is concerned, Martin shares with Boethius of Dacia the view that grammar is a science even though its principles are not absolute at the same level of the principles of other sciences, such as metaphysics. As for the criterion of universality, it is assured by establishing as its object ‘‘modes of signifying’’ (modi significandi), that is, ways in which a lexical notion, in addition to its essential reference, can express different values, just as the verb dolere and the noun dolor or the noun donum and the participle datum refer to different aspects of the same notion. In other words, the same idea can be signified through various parts of speech as long as its ‘‘modes of signifying’’ are not in contrast with that idea, or, again, the lexeme (dictio) is suitable to receive the form of a noun, pronoun, verb, participle, or adverb. By means of this form or ‘‘mode of signifying’’ it is possible to express categories belonging to extra-linguistic domains, as in the case of verbs or participles and nouns or pro- nouns, which express the metaphysical categories of change and permanence, respectively. To establish the ‘‘modes of signifying’’, as the object of grammar strengthens further the universality of gram- mar, as these modes are considered to be linguistic uni- versals. Thus this science focuses on a universal grammar, valid for all languages, on which the grammars of each process of derivation of the ‘‘modes of signifying’’ from the ‘‘modes of being’’. In fact, later authors broadened the ways in which the ‘‘modes of signifying’’ can be attributed, as in the case of their attribution to other objects – whether existing or fictitious – by reason of supposed similarities of the ‘‘modes of signifying’’ with existing objects. Modistae of later generations inherited a further diver- gence between Martin and Boethius on the relationship between the three modes. While Boethius argued for a relationship of similarity between the modes – they cannot be one and the same thing, otherwise each property or ‘‘mode of being’’ of a thing would have a corresponding ‘‘mode of signifying’’ – Martin rejected the notion that one mode can signify another: the three modes are, in his view, completely one and the same thing, being only accidentally different, just as Socrates remains of being’’ (modi one and the same person regardless of the places where he might be. Each mode cannot be a sign for the other two modes, because it would be a sign of something equal to itself, and nothing can be a sign of itself. For Martin, the ‘‘modes of signifying’’ reside in the vox as in a sign, though they inhere in the signified thing like accidents in a substance. In this case too, Martin’s solu- tion, in contrast to that of Boethius, is probably carried out – as Marmo (1994) suggests – to prevent a hypostatization of the ‘‘modes of signifying’’: in the act of giving a name, the intellect does not create anything really existent to be added to the substance of the vox ; the ‘‘modes of signifying’’, as well as the ‘‘modes of understanding,’’ reside in external things, and only in a weaker sense do signifying’’ derive they reside in the intellect and in the vox. In the ontological frame each kind of mode has its peculiarity and autonomy, making possible an autonomous inquiry of each kind, and this tripartite structure does not involve the production of something new when an act of intellection or signification occurs. fictions or See also: ▶ Boethius of Dacia ▶ Modistae ▶ Radulphus Brito or in the case of names of If the relationship Bibliography Primary Sources Martin of Dacia (1961) Opera, ed. Roos H. Corpus Philosophorum Danicorum Medii Aevi, 11. G.E.C. Gad, Copenhagen (this volume consists of Martin’s De modi significandi and his Questions on the works of the Logica vetus) This is one of succeeding Secondary Sources Bursill-Hall GL (1971) Speculative grammars of the Middle Ages. The doctrine of ‘partes orationis’ of the modistae. Mouton, The Hague/ Paris Mathematics and Philosophy in the Arab World M 725 to the foundation of a gnoseological itinerary, the final aim of which was God. It was on the basis of this purpose di Dacia. In: Arts du Quatrième Congrès that the recovery of the ancient knowledge and the study de Montréal, of all disciplines, both philosophical and scientific, were d’Études Médiévales/ justified. Arab scholars generally used to present science as C, Orlandi a branch of philosophy, since the process of inquiry into secolo XIII. Atti del per il the nature of science was the same as that used to inquire into the nature of philosophical knowledge. In turn, sci- ence was generally distinguished into two main groups: mathematical sciences and natural sciences. alle Categorie da Mathematical sciences included arithmetic, geometry, D, Ferriani M, a Bologna nel XIV astronomy, and music. Regarding mathematics, it seems di Bologna, Bologna, that there were two different systems of thought in the school of Baghdad. One system was influenced by the Parigi, Bologna, classical heritage and tried to recover the Greek and Istituto storico italiano Mesopotamic knowledge. The other system, more im Mittelalter. practical, was influenced by Indian sources, which had its champion in the beginner of algebra, Muh: ammad b. Mūsā al-Khwarizmı̄. As for philosophy, it played a fundamental role not BGPTM = Beiträge only in the process of absorption and synthesis of ‘‘for- des Mittelalters, 37/2. agen eign’’ sciences and the formation of the Islamic ones, but also in the cultivation and the development of sciences in general, to the extent that this process would have been M et la sémantique impossible without the contribution of the falsafa or h: ikma (wisdom). As for the role of science and its relationship with theology, the Arabs maintained that science, in its general meaning, was useful in order to understand and imple- ment the divine law. The Arab contribution to the development of science and philosophy has been remarkable. After the period of the great conquests, the Arabs showed a particular interest in other cultures and civilizations they came in contact with and whose intellectual outcome they wanted to assimilate through the translation movement. Started under the Umayyads (661–750) of Damascus, the transla- tion movement reached its apex during the first centuries of the long history of the ʿAbbāsids (750–1258) of Bagh- dad who fostered this process, which was not only a cultural one. The main reasons for supporting this kind of ‘‘dia- chronic encounter’’ between the Arabs and the Ancients into were due to both political and social changes and the development of a new ideology that took place in the ʿAbbāsids period. In a social and political climate such as that of the ʿAbbāsid Baghdad, the need for theoretical sciences became more and more pressing. On the other the Arab World tithe (zakāt), for example, required the development of algebra, an Arabic invention. Regarding mathematics, it seems that there were two different systems of thought in the school of Baghdad. One system was influenced by the classical heritage, and tried to recover the Greek and Mesopotamic knowledge. The other system, more practical, was influenced by Indian sources which had its champion in the beginner of algebra, Muh: ammad ibn Mūsā al-Khwarizmı̄ (d. 850), as he wrote a treatise on the Indian numbers, preserved only in its Latin version, De numero Indorum. The name of al-Khwarizmı̄, however, is linked to his famous treatise Hisāb al-jabr wa-l-muqābala, later ˙ translated into Latin by Robert of Chester and Gerard of Cremona (Liber algebrae et almucabalae). Here he turned the Greek concept of mathematics, which was essentially geometric, in a revolutionary way. In fact, the Greeks, as they felt the impossibility of conceiving in an analytical way the idea of the irrational numbers, gave geometry the function of studying ‘‘immeasurable’’ greatness. From this al-t:abı̄ ʿiyya). standpoint, the Arabs went over the Greeks and, in apply- ing the same procedures of the rational numbers to the irrational ones, contributed to the progress of mathemat- ics in a remarkable way. The Arab mathematicians Thābit ibn Qurra and ‘Umar Khayyām were influenced by the Greek mathemat- ical heritage. Thābit ibn Qurra (826–901), one of the most important translators from Syriac and Greek, did not only ˙ translate the major Greek mathematicians (Euclides, Archimedes, Apollonius, and Ptolemy) but also wrote a mathematical treatise on the solution of problems of algebra through geometric demonstration. He was also influenced by the Neoplatonic doctrines and recovered their ideas, as showed by his translations of Proclus and Nicomacus of Gerasa (Introduction to Arithmetica). As for ‘Umar Khayyām (1050–1122), although he is considered one of the major Persian poets, he was also a scientist. He also wrote a Kitāb al-jabr in which, unlike al-Khwarizmı̄, he dealt with cubic equations. Although the Arab mathematicians are famous for their works on algebra, number theory, number systems, geometry, and trigonometry, they also gave their contributions to astronomy. In this respect, the translation of Ptolemy’s Almagest provided important astronomical material. As a result of the study and the practice of astronomy, during this period two observatories were founded in Baghdad and in Damascus: here the astronomers, entrusted by the Caliph himself, carried out a program of astronomic observations. The aim of this program was Mathematics and Philosophy in the Arab World M 727 sciences’’ (al-‘ulūm al-‘aqliyya) or with ‘‘traditional philosophy’’ or, even with the so-called h: ikma ilāhiyya, literally ‘‘theosophia.’’ Hikma may imply a connection ˙ between knowledge and practice of knowledge, through which man can realize his happiness and bring his being to perfection, as was stated not only by al-Fārābı̄ but also by another eminent faylasūf, Ibn Sı̄nā (known as Avicenna, 980–1037) and the Ikhwān al-Safā’ (The Brethren of ˙ Purity, fourth/tenth century). With the Ishrāqı̄ school represented by Suhrawardı̄ (1155–1191), h: ikma combined the formal religious sciences and the essence of pure gnosis: in this way, it acquired the connotation of both theoretical knowledge and spiritual vision. In the Shı̄ʿite circles, h: ikma, being connected with the ‘‘cycle of initiation’’ that follows the ‘‘cycle of prophecy,’’ would be identified with the esoteric dimension of religion, as stated by the Ismā‘ı̄liyya. In this way, h: ikma had a soteriological aim insofar as it involved not only theoretical knowledge but also the direct vision of the Truth that implied the salvation of man’s soul. Regarding the development of philosophy and its diffusion in the Arab world, it should be noted that although it goes back to the translation movement, phil- osophical schools existed in the East long before the appearance of the Arabs in the history of the world. M After the advent of the Islam and thanks to the trans- lations from Greek, the Arabs, after having assimilated the classical heritage, developed their personal and inde- pendent system of thought in which, because of religious conditioning, Aristotelian theories were interpreted in a Neoplatonic way. One of the main reasons of this ‘‘misinterpretation’’ is linked to the works that intro- duced Neoplatonism in the Arab world; in this regard, it is worth noting that the diffusion of Neoplatonism was due not to Plotinus’ Enneades but to some of its later and adulterated versions, among which was the so-called Theology of Aristotle. This was an epitome of Plotinus’ Enneades akin to another pseudo-Aristotelian treatise based on Proclus’ Element of Theology, which, in turn, was known in the Arab world with the title of Kitāb al- ı̄dāh: fı̄ khayr al-mah: d (The Book of the Absolute Goodness). ˙ ˙ A further reason for Neoplatonic tendencies in Aristote- lian theories was religious influence. From this standpoint, the recovery of Greek philosophy, especially of Neoplato- nism, was functional to a cosmological and gnoseological system hierarchically structured, at the top of which there was God. With the historical development of Islam, the real nature of falsafa changed from a system of rational thought to a kind of wisdom that played a pivotal role in Arab World from the one may be compared with the way in which created beings come from God. This assumption involves a kind of symmetry between the numerical progression from the number one and the emanation (fayd) of the ˙ universe from God, according to the following correspon- dences: 1 = God; 2 = Intellect; 3 = Soul; 4 = matter; 5 = nature; 6 = body; 7 = stars; 8 = elements; 9 = generated beings. The use of mathematical sciences, in particular of arithmetic, as a metaphorical reading of Neoplatonism is also found in the Ismāʿı̄lı̄s, who adopted numbers in their metaphorical interpretation (ta’wı̄l) of the Scripture. In particular, they recovered the so-called sı̄mı̄yā’ (or ‘‘esoteric science of the letters’’) which drew upon the Pythagorean tradition for its symbolic numerology, just as they used the Neoplatonic tradition as a framework of also the onto- their cosmology. The result of the application of this particular science is a kind of exegesis of the Soul, achieved through a process of transmutation of the words and letters into numbers thanks to a variety of techniques such as, and first of all, the h: isāb al-jummal (i.e., the calculation made by giving to each letter of the Arabic alphabet a numerical value). Thus, the application of the sı̄mı̄yā’ and the recovery of numerological techniques become a ‘‘sign’’ (one of the literally meanings for sı̄mı̄yā’) not only of the Ismāʿı̄lı̄ da‘wa (propaganda) but also of the intrinsic unity of all levels of reality (cosmological, epistemological, and imamic), recognized within the Ismāʿı̄liyya. By the end of the fifth/eleventh century, philosophy was attacked and criticized by the most important cham- pion of the orthodoxy, al-Ġazālı̄. If his polemical treatise Tahāfut al-Falāsifa (The Incoherence of the Philosophers) has been considered as a mortal blow for philosophy, on the other hand, it provoked a very interesting reaction, like of the Brethren of the one that took place in the western lands through the main philosophers of the Andalusian school: Ibn Bājja (known as Avempace, d. 1138) and, especially, Ibn Rushd (known as Averroes, 1126–1198), the great commentator of Aristotle, who undertook the defense of philosophy with his Tahāfut al-tahāfut (The Incoherence of the Inco- herence), a polemical answer to al-Ġazālı̄’s attack. With the death of Ibn Rushd and the subsequent power shift from Muslim to Christian, the philosophical activity in western Islamic countries came down. In eastern Islamic countries, after the fall of the ʿAbbāsid caliphate (1258) and the subsequent end of the symbolic political unity of the Islamic world, philos- ophy was dominated, in general, by the heritage of Ibn Sı̄nā and Suhrawardı̄. Their ideas and influences stimu- lated the rise of several philosophical schools such as that Matthew of Aquasparta M 729 as Mullā Sadrā, Matthew of Aquasparta preceding MIKKO YRJÖNSUURI Department of Social Sciences and Philosophy University of Jyväskylä Jyväskylä Finland Abstract Matthew of Aquasparta (c. 1237–1302) was a theologian who made a considerable career in the Franciscan order. In his theory of the human soul, he accepted the plurality ˙ of forms and opposed the conception of the unity to the Philosoph- soul and its powers. Among epistemological issues, he developed the elements of the theory of intuitive knowl- edge which became important in the thought of John Duns Scotus and William Ockham. Matthew pointed out that Augustine refuted the ancient skeptics by the soul’s certain knowledge of its own existence. He also defended the Augustinian theory of illumination in his epistemology and the freedom of the will over the intellect. that deal, in particular, Matthew of Aquasparta was born of the noble Bentivenghi M family and made a strong ecclesiastical career in the Fran- Sinclair S. Brill, ciscan order. He entered the order as a child in Umbria but moved to Paris for university studies at about 1268, becoming a student of Bonaventure and John Peckham. He taught at Bologna, Paris and the Papal Curia. In the history and philosophy year 1287, he became the minister general of the order. Matthew’s university studies were no doubt influenced by the doctrinal quarrels between Thomas Aquinas and a study of Islamic Philosophy and other Aristotelian thinkers on the one hand, and the Bonaventure and other Augustinians on the other. While Matthew of Aquasparta was not really a highly original mind, he was a clear and acute Franciscan thinker con- pays d’Islam. Miroirs tinuing on the lines set by Bonaventure. In his theory of 3 i /28:187–212 Islam. The the human soul, he accepted the plurality of forms and thereby opposed attributing strong unity to the soul and its powers. Among epistemological issues, Matthew defended the capability of human intellect to directly perceive individuals. He divided intellectual en el Islam. Ilu: 16. Publicaciones knowledge into three classes: acquaintance by sign (per ratiocinationem), by direct apprehension (per inspectivam contuitionem; per intuitionem), and by understanding the essence (per quidditatis speculationem), and thus devel- oped the theory of intuitive knowledge that became very important in the accounts of intellectual knowledge of singulars by later Franciscans John Duns Scotus and William Ockham. Matthew also pointed out that Boethius’ The Consolation of Philosophy) and made possi- ble, after a long time, the communication of Greek- and Latin-speaking worlds. Planoudes is one of the leading figures of the Early Palaiologan Renaissance. Biographical Information Nikomedeia 1255 – Constantinople 1305. Byzantine scholar with impressive range of interests, grammarian, productive ‘‘editor’’ of Greek texts and translator of Latin works, monk, representative of the intellectual movement in the Early Palaiologan Renaissance (mid-thirteenth- mid de productione fourteenth-century), and the most outstanding Latin scholar in the East. Manuel Planoudes was born in Asia Minor and settled in Constantinople where he completed his higher education and learned Latin. Scholastica Medii Aevi, Quite young (c. 1280) Manuel entered the Imperial de anima Court as a state official and began to teach, perhaps in the de legibus, ed. Piana C, Gál imperial Chora Monastery. He abandoned a promising Medii Aevi, 18. career in the civil service, became a monk (1283/1292) and changed his name to Maximos. He devoted himself to the monastic life of a scholar. Through his teaching activity, within the monasteries of the capital, he became famous of Ghent and and attracted many scions of noble families. Among his Franzisk Stud pupils were scholars like Manuel Moschopoulos, Georgios xiiie siècle. De Matthieu Lekapenos, Demetrios Triklinios, the Zarides brothers, and Études de philosphie médiévale, Ioannes Zacharias. Except philosophy, he taught grammar, poetry, and rhetoric (trivium) but from late 1280s he started to teach astronomy, mathematics, and geography (quadrivium). His teaching was based on the best ancient sources available to each field: Plato and Aristotle, Strabo, Pausanias, Diophantus, Cleomedes, Euclid, Nicomachus, Ptolemy, and many others. Planoudes was an outstanding member of a wide circle of well-educated Byzantines like George of Cyprus, Nikephoros Choumnos, Manuel Bryennios, and many other future Patriarchs and state officials. As many Byzantine thinkers and scholars, Planoudes had close relations to the imperial court and even to the emperor himself, Andronikos II. At first Planoudes supported the pro-union policy of the emperor Michael VIII and within the West-friendly atmosphere that followed the unionist Council of Lyon (1274) he showed his enthusiasm for the Latin culture and started to translate works of Latin theology and literature. Later on he supported the anti-union policy of Andronikos II and, finally, he decided not to participate into state and ecclesiastical missions and to avoid his involvement into theological questions. So he preferred to confine himself to activities such as the teaching and the editing of ancient Greek texts. He entered the Monastery of Akataleptos where he taught from 1299 until his early death in 1305. Maximos Planoudes M 731 Scipio and Macrobius’ commentary. In the Dream there are views acceptable for Christians, as the omnipotence of God and the immortality of human souls, together with political thoughts about the love of justice and the ideal of devoting one’s life to the service of one’s state that were suitable for a Byzantine emperor like Andronikos II. The reminiscences of Plato are evident throughout both Latin texts. The same can be said for another choice of Planoudes, namely, his translation (before 1296) of Boethius’ Consola- tion of Philosophy, where the Christian confrontation to impending death resorted to non-Christian sources. Byzantine scholars’ interest in Greek scientific writings went together with their interest in Greek philosophy and literature. Planoudes’ interests and teaching activity cov- ered also the sciences of the quadrivium. Around 1292/93 Planoudes was interested in mathematics and specifically in Diophantus, whose work Pachymeres had already used in his Quadrivium. He made a manuscript of Diophantus’ Arithmetic (with comments) and it is thanks to Planoudes that the work of Diophantus survived in the history of mathematics. He also wrote the Calculation according to the Indians (1292/3), preserved in forty-one manuscripts. It is an important work that shows the diffusion of Hindu arithmetic in the Byzantine world and contains the first use of zero as a place holder at the right of the other symbols. M For his teaching Planoudes prepared scholia on Euclides’ Elements and he edited Aratus’ Phenomena (c. 1290) and the circular theory of the Stars of Cleomedes. He was interested also in the geography of Ptolemy (1295) and music or harmonics; he wrote a book on harmonics and collected nearly all the relevant works (1294). Planoudes proved to be a pioneer in the eastern Chris- tendom and with his systematic translations of both profane and Christian Latin authors he contributed to the restora- tion of the contact between the two parts of Christendom that their ways had parted long ago. Except the philosophical works, he translated the anonymous’ On the Misdeeds of the Age, Ovid, Caesar and grammatical works, as well as many others. The quality of his translations is generally more than satisfactory. In this activity Planoudes is probably unique in Byzantium and, though appreciated, he found no imitators until Demetrios Kydones (1324–1397/98). Planoudes was the first Byzantine to study Augustine and his major achievement was the rendering into Greek of On the Trinity (completed before 1282). That was a thoughtful choice, because the western conception of Trinity, a much debated issue between East and West, derived mainly from Augustine. Thus, Augustine after centuries of ignorance was put on the map of Byzantine theology with Planoudes’ widespread translation. And the Augustinian text had significant influence on Byzantine Grammatical Works Bachmann Ludwig (1828) Anecdota Graeca, 2. Leipzing, pp 2–166 after this (repr. 1965) Letters Treu Maximilian (ed) (1890) Maximi Monachi Planudis Epistulae. Köbner, Breslau (repr. 1960); Leone PLM (ed) (1991) Maximi Monachi Planudis Epistulae. Hakkert, Amsterdam Translations conventional and Augustine (1995) In: Papathomopoulos M, Tsavari I, Rigotti G (eds) On the Trinity. Academy of Athens, Athens Boethius (1999) In: Papathomopoulos M (ed) The consolation of philos- ophy. Academy of Athens, Athens; Megas A (ed) (1996) Thessaloniki Cicero (1992) In: Pavano A (ed) The dream of Scipio. Gruppo Editoriale Internazionale, Rome. Macrobius (1995) In: Megas A (ed) Commentary on the dream of Scipio. Thessaloniki Sayings of Cato (1992) In: Ortoleva V (ed) Disticha Catonis in graecum translata. Ateneo, Rome For a complete list of Planoudes’ translations see: On the Trinity, cxxxvi–clvi the war insofar Secondary Sources the impious Constantinides CN (1982) Higher education in Byzantium in the thir- teenth and early fourteenth centuries (1204–1310). Cyprus Research Centre, Nicosia, pp 66–89 Fryde E (2000) The early Palaeologan Renaissance (1261–c.1360). Brill, Leiden, pp 226–267 Kugeas S (1909) Analecta Planudea. BZ 18:106–146 and his Lössl J (2000) Augustine in Byzantium. J Ecclesiast Hist 53:267–295 Mergiali S (1996) L’enseignement et les lettrés pendant l’époque des Paléologues, 1261–1453. Centre d’Etudes Byzantines, Athens, pp 34–42 Rigotti G (1994) Massimo Planude traduttore del De Trinitate di S. Agostino. In: Moreschini C, Menestrina G (eds) La traduzione dei and editing testi religiosi. Morcelliana, Brescia, pp 185–196 Schmitt W (1968) Lateinische Literatur in Byzanz: Die Ubersetzugen des Maximos Planudes und die moderne Forschung. JÖB 17:127–147 Wendel C (1940) Planudea. BZ 40:406–445 Wendel C (1950) Maximus Planudes. RE der klassischen Altertumswis- senschaft 20/2:2202–2253 the Orthodox East. Wilson N (1983) Scholars of Byzantium. Duckworth, London, pp 230–241 ▶ Philoso- Maximus the Confessor MATTHEW J. PEREIRA Department of Religion /29:34–50 Columbia University on Boethius’ Consolation. New York, NY Anastasios (ed) (1996) 357–378 USA grand calcul selon les Louvain, Louvain Abstract Maximus the Confessor (c. 580–662) was one of the most significant ascetic theologians of the early medieval Maximus the Confessor M 733 anathematized Monothelitism at the Lateran Council. In contrast to this Neo-Chalcedonian contingency, Emperor Constans II reaffirmed his commitment to imperial Monothelitism by editing a Typos written by Paul II (patri- arch of Constantinople) in 647. The debate with Pyrrhus compelled Maximus to vigor- ously affirm the Chalcedonian formula, which held Christ has two natures. Maximus’ theological position did not go unchallenged. Constans II demanded a recantation from Maximus. Maximus’ ensuing refusal to accept imperial Monothelitism brought serious consequences. Initially, Maximus was exiled. Thereafter, Maximus was tortured after two more refusals during imperial summons in 658 and 661. On account of his faithfulness to Orthodoxy, tradition holds that Maximus’ right hand and his tongue were cut off. Consequently, Maximus has earned the title of Confessor. Maximus died in Georgia on August 16, 662. The Literary Works of Maximus Maximus’ expansive literary corpus addresses a variety of topics from a wide range of contexts. His writings consist of theological commentaries (The Ambigua, Quaestiones to Thalassium, Quaestiones to Theopemptum, Quaestiones et dubia and Exposition of Psalm 59), ascetical writings (The Ascetic Life, Two Centuries on Knowledge and Four Centu- M ries on Love), and liturgical writings (Mystagogia and Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer). Also, there are several extant epistles of Maximus (Epistle to Abbot Thalassius, Epistle to Anastasius, and Second Epistle to Thomas). One of Maximus’ favorite literary forms was the ‘‘centuries’’ (hekatontas), which consisted of one hundred ‘‘chapters’’ typically the length of a paragraph. Maximus has four Centuries on Love, and two Centuries on Theology and the Incarnation. Also, Maximus preferred the traditional intel- lectual method of progressing in understanding through questions and responses, known as erôtapokriseis. Maximus’ Ascetic Life is an example of this intellectual technique. Maximus’ Synthesis Maximus’ philosophical theology synthesizes a wide and diverse range of intellectual sources. Throughout his writ- ings, Maximus interweaves philosophical concepts in order to address particular issues within various contexts. Maximus’ originality is evident in his recasting of various traditions into an ascetic spiritual theology. Maximus advanced a mystical vision that synthesized dogmatics and the spiritual life in order to explain how humanity moves into closer communion with God. Maximus’ intel- lectual sources reach back from Plato to his contempo- raries, such as Leontius of Byzantium. soul. For Maximus, the nature of the union between the soul and body is a pivotal concept. Maximus insists that the whole is nothing else but its parts and that there is no other existence without these unified parts (Opuscula, PG 91, col. 117D). Further, it is the totality of the parts in their mutual indwelling that has prominence over all divergence (Opuscula, PG 91, col. 521BC). The whole, in the sense of their person and their existence, is the hypostatic unity (Ambigua, PG 91, col. 1044D). Following this course of reasoning, the human nature of Christ, on account of having being in the Logos, consequently derives personal- ity and existence from the Logos (Epistles 11, PG 91, col. 468AB). In other writings, Maximus further explicates Christ’s hypostasis through the concepts of communicatio idiomatum and perichoresis. the seventh century. Maximus appears to be the first theologian to employ perichoresis in order to express the communicatio idiomatum of Christ’s divine and human nature (Thunberg 1995). According to the Scholies to Ps.-Denis, Gregory Nazianzen’s Letter to Cledonius (Letter 101) influenced Maximus’ concept of perichoresis. For Maximus, perichoresis conveyed a double penetration where the divine penetrates humanity (Quaestiones ad Thalassium 59, CCSG 22, p. 51 ff) and humanity pene- trates into the life of God (Ambigua 5m PG 91, col. 1053 B). Maximus’ doctrine of perichoresis provides a foundation for all activity, whereby the unity of the human and divine within Christ provides a redemptive framework for humanity. The Incarnation makes dynamic ‘‘modes of existence’’ possible, where true human nature becomes open to relationship with God. This mode of participation leads to deification through Christ, who is the perfection of humanity and the world. The Chalcedonian Christological definition, which states the two natures of Christ are without confusion, change, division and separation while in mutual commu- nication, directly informs Maximus’ cosmology. While Maximus does not offer a precise theology of creation, the opening section of The Centuries on Charity (Book 4), gives the fullest discussion. Thunberg delineates eight elements in Maximus’ cosmology: (1) creatio ex nihilo, (2) creation because of God’s will, (3) creation because of God’s benevolence, (4) creation by the Word, (5) crea- tion because of God’s prudence, (6) creation as divine condescension introducing an element of motion, (7) every creature composite of substance and accident, and (8) creation, not of qualities but of qualified sub- stances, which need divine providence (Thunberg 1995). Maximus maintains that the primary principle in all cre- ation is synthesis, which is expressed in the hypostasis of Christ. The Incarnate One is reconciling all polarities Medicine and Philosophy M 735 Maximus der Bekenner (1961b) Die Mystagogie. In: von Balthasar HU Kosmische Liturgie. Das Weltbild Maximus des Bekenners. Zweite völlig veränderte Auflage. Johannes, Einsiedeln, pp 409–481 Italian Massimo il Confessore (1979) Umanità e divinità di Cristo (trans, intro, and notes: Ceresa-Gastaldo A). Collana di testi patristici, no, 19. Rome Massimo il Confessore (1980) Il Dio-uomo. Duenceto pensieri sulla cognoscenza di Dio e sull’ incarnazione di Cristo (trans, intro, and notes: Ceresa-Gastaldo A). Già e non ancora, no. 66. Milan Secondary Sources Monographs Balthasar H (2003) Cosmic liturgy: the universe according to Maximus the Confessor (trans: Daley BE). Ignatius Press, San Francisco Philoso- Gatti ML (1987) Massimo il Confessore. Saggio di bibliografica generale ragionata e contribute per una riconstruzione scientifica del suo pensiero metafisico e religioso. Vita e pensiero, Milan Larchet JC (1996) La divinisation de l’homme selon Saint Maxime le Confesseur. Éditions du Cerf, Paris Louth A (1996) Maximus the Confessor. Routledge, New York Sherwood P (1955) The earlier Ambigua of St. Maximus the Confessor and his refutation of Origenism. Herder, Rome Thunberg L (1995) Microcosm and mediator: the theological anthropol- ogy of Maximus the Confessor. Open Court, Chicago Collections Heinzer F, Schönborn C (eds) (1982) Maximus Confessor: Actes du Symposium sur Maxime le Confesseur. Editions Universitaires Fri- bourg Suisse, Saint-Paul Fribourg, Suisse M Thalassium I–IV. Quaestiones I–LV, Eriugenae iuxta (CCSG 7) exegetica duo. Medicine and Philosophy JOEL CHANDELIER editi criticamente con Université de Paris 8 N.S. 3). Rome, (CSC) Paris France Confessor: select Abstract The question of the connection between philosophy and The four centuries medicine raised in Antiquity remains a serious bone of contention in the Middle Ages. The problem, which stems from the acceptance of the Galenic synthesis as the foun- dation of medicine in late Antiquity, is the discrepancy between the concrete, empirical foundations of medieval Labeille. Éditions du medical practice and the cosmological model that is sup- (intro: Larchet posed to integrate it. While the first authors are circum- de l’Ancre, Sursenes spect, the eminent Arabic doctors and philosophers Avicenna and Averroes propose solutions, one through a strictly instrumental view of medicine, the other through a drastic limitation of its field of experience. Translated into Latin in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, these Johannes, Einsiedeln developments lead scholastic doctors to construct a more sixth and the seventh century. In this school is born a figure destined to remain in the Arab and Byzantine world, the iatrosophist, a doctor-philosopher capable of providing care as well as mastering grammar and dialectic. The thought of Galen is linked by the Alexandrians more strictly, and often more inaccurately, to the great philo- sophical systems of Antiquity. To justify their reasoning, the iatrosophists rely on the statements of Aristotle, who insists in his On Sense and Sensible Objects on the necessary link existing between the philosophy of nature and med- icine: ‘‘Most natural philosophers, and those physicians who take a scientific interest in their art, have this in common: the former end by studying medicine, and the latter base their medical theories on the principles of natural science’’ (On Sense and Sensible Objects, I, 436a19– 436b2). The Alexandrians go even further, attributing to Aristotle many definitions that depict medicine as a ‘‘philosophy of the body’’ or the ‘‘sister of philosophy.’’ The echo of these Alexandrine’s conceptions is found in the encyclopedist Isidore of Seville (d. in 636). In his Etymologiae (IV, XIII 5), he asserts that medicine deals with the whole human body, and therefore is rightly called a ‘‘second philosophy,’’ in the image of the first, which pertains to the soul. Though the Latin medicine of the time is in full intellectual decline, this mention reveals the influence of conceptions developed by the last heirs of ancient philosophical teachings. However, integrating the two domains of knowledge in a single system is not with- out important difficulties. On many points, Galen and Aristotle are in clear opposition. The most famous exam- ple of these conflicts involves the organic origin of the functions of the soul. For Aristotle, the heart is their unique seat; but Galen, thanks to vivisections, notices that brain or nerve lesions can cause paralysis, and logi- cally places the seat of sensation in the brain. Thus, Galen favors a return to the platonic conception of the tripartite soul, whose functions are placed in the heart, the brain, and the liver. Another famous case is the role attributed to the woman in generation: for Aristotle, she has the passive role of providing matter, while Galen credits her also, as he does the man, with the active role of giving the embryo’s form. Embarrassed by these contradictions, Alexandrian thinkers prefer to sidestep these problems or to approach them indirectly. Thus, on the question of the existence of a neutral state between health and sickness, stated by Galen at the beginning of Medical Art and contradicted by Aristotle who affirms in the Categories that these two terms are an example of contraries that admit no intermediate, Agnellus of Ravenna (sixth century) avoids citing explicitly Aristotle but answers objections from anonymous critics – plainly Aristotelian – by relying on Medicine and Philosophy M 737 solution to the problem, in order to provide a general principle to mediate conflicts between the two disciplines. The first to propose a solution of this kind is the philos- opher al-Fārābı̄ (872–950). His comments come down to an attack against the philosophical pretensions of the doctors, especially Galen’s. For al-Fārābı̄, Aristotle, who draws on logical reasoning, prevails against Galen and his empirical observations. This clear choice for Aristotelian- ism leads al-Fārābı̄ to place medicine among the practical arts, with agriculture or cooking, and to divide it in seven parts, of which the first three (knowledge of the organs, health, and diseases) are totally or partially common to natural philosophy and medicine, while the next four (symptomatology, nutrition and medication, hygiene and dietetics, and therapeutics) are part only of the second. Still, this solution does not resolve the problem completely, since it has no answer to an essential question: how must the doctor act in a controversial case? Must he, despite their incorrect theoretical origin, apply against his better judgment all the treatment methods that Galen heartily recommends? Faced with this difficulty, Avicenna (980–1037) goes further than al-Fārābı̄ and proposes an original solution, developed in particular in the Canon of Medicine. Avicenna gives first a definition of medicine that M reduces neatly his ambition, since for him medicine is concerned with the human body solely qua healthy or sick, and not, as does natural philosophy, in itself. From this model follows logically another way of looking at the relation between the two subjects. Avicenna explains often that ‘‘the physician does not need to proceed following a demonstrative argument that will lead him from this disagreement to the truth, nor qua physician will he see the path to this, nor does this impede him in his investigations and actions.’’ Avicenna’s position is simple: the doctor must not take an interest in the causes of phenomena and search for the principles of natural mechanisms, since this search is within the purview of the philosopher alone; he must be content to take an interest in the rem- edies that he uses against illness without wondering about their first causes: only the immediate causes are for him relevant, and if they seem to contradict the claims of natural philosophy, he is not authorized to search for a reconciliation that only the philosopher is able to achieve. However, Avicenna takes care to specify that the doctor’s actions, that is, his concrete activities as a therapist, must not be changed according to debates that arise in another discipline. This attitude is called ‘‘instrumentalism’’ (McVaugh), because it regards medical theories as adequate instru- ments for predicting and evaluating phenomena, but but only try to do what is possible to help nature take its course. In this way, Averroes reinforces the importance of the prognostic art and of the pure practical art of the doctor, and limits drastically its theoretical pretensions. It is tempting to compare Averroes’ position on medicine to the one he adopts in his commentary on De caelo concerning Ptolemy’s theories; in fact, he does not hesitate to reject them despite their usefulness, as they seem to doctor can, as philosopher, him not to comply with the Aristotelian philosophy that predicts uniquely circular movements for stars, when the Ptolemaic system, to save appearances, introduces a complex system of epicycles and eccentrics. In astron- omy as in medicine, Averroes’ object is to make all knowl- edge coherent with Aristotelian philosophy, which is the only one to be authorized to research and expound truth. in The Salernitan Masters and the Physica The texts of Avicenna and Averroes are not known in the West before the thirteenth century. However, the Latin scholars have access, before this date, to some of the thoughts of Greek and Arabic authors, notably due to the translations of Constantine the African in the eleventh century. These translations, mostly of medical texts, push Latin doctors of the following century to take a closer look at philosophy, especially since the texts then available make medicine a part of natural philosophy. For the rest, on true principles it is the thought of the twelfth century on the whole that aims to replace the study of the human body, and so its diseases, in a global analysis of Creation. This tendency, which develops at a moment where most of the Aristote- on which it must be lian corpus is still unknown, is most prevalent among the doctors of Salerno. The texts studied in this great center of teaching are of Greek or Arabic origin: for example, The Isagoge by Johannitius, the Aphorisms, Prognostics et Reg- imen of Acute Diseases by Hippocrates, the Medical Art by Galen, or the Pantegni by Constantin, adapted from the al-Kitāb al-Malakı̄ by al-Majūsı̄. In their commentaries on The Isagoge, the Salernitan solution by radicaliz- masters strive to situate medicine in the general organiza- tion of knowledge, while it belongs neither to the trivium nor to the quadrivium. Contra Hughes of Saint-Victor, who around 1120 makes medicine a purely mechanical art, the Salernitan authors divide all knowledge into three branches, logic, ethics, and physics, and place medicine in the latter, with physics and meteorology. Medicine is then considered a full-fledged science, divided itself into theory and practice on the Arabic model. In this way appears in the West the idea that medicine includes a theoretical part, which is grounded in natural philosophy. The definition of medicine given by Medicine and Philosophy M 739 does not permit the pursuit of the intellectual tradition established in the city. Of course, the Salernitan’s works are not completely forgotten and continue to be studied, but the reception of the great philosophical systems provokes important reconsiderations in the West. Many debates on the relation between medicine and philosophy then repeat herbs, the terms of the question that Arabic authors had already tried to resolve; but the new conditions of the practice of medicine, and especially its teaching in universities, are eventually going to modify radically this perspective. Scholastic Teaching and the Synthesis of Greek and Arabic Contributions The Search for an Agreement For Latin authors, the problem was always the same: harmonize Aristotle’s physiological and biological infor- mation with Galen’s, all the while according, as much as possible, the philosophical systems of the two scholars. However, the question presents itself in a new light, since at the same time were translated the Arabic interpreta- tions, notably those of Avicenna (Canon, translated in the twelfth century by Gerard of Cremona), of ‘Alı̄ ibn Ridwān (commentary of Tegni translated by Gerard of Cremona) and of Averroes (Colliget translated in 1285 by Bonacosa in M Padua). The assimilation of all these works in the first half of the thirteenth century leads to a period of important debates between 1270 and 1320, a period that has been called the ‘‘times of controversies’’ (Jacquart and Micheau 1990). The two most debated questions are the primacy of the heart as a first principle of the body, and the existence of a feminine seed. Contrary to what is often claimed, these debates are not limited to a simple controversy with the ‘‘doctors’’ on one side and the ‘‘philosophers’’ on the other. The double quality of many authors, notably in Italy, prevents us from a too cut-and-dried opposition between the followers of the two disciplines. Thus, Pietro Torrigiano, medical doctor active in Paris in the first decades of the fourteenth century, defends the Aristotelian position that makes the movements of the heart a simple physical process, while the majority of doctors of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries go along with Aristotle’s denial of the existence of a female seed. How- ever, beyond the diversity of views, it is possible to find a certain number of constants, particularly in some centers of teaching. In Italy, the problem is more acute because medicine and philosophy are often taught in the same faculty, and by the same person, as in the case of Iacopo da Forlı̀ (d. 1404) who teaches natural philosophy from 1384 to 1386, moral philosophy and medicine in 1392– 1393 and 1395–1396, and finally logical and natural as a university discipline at the end of the thirteenth century, as well as the progressively more important place granted to the doctor in society, permits authors to cast a critical eye on accepted definitions, and in particular on the distinction between theory and practice. Wonder- ing about the legitimacy of this distinction, Gentile da Foligno maintains that medicine can be divided in this way, but the theoretical part then coincides with a part of natural philosophy, since medicine is ‘‘a science made up of numerous other sciences’’ (comm. Canon, I.1.1.1.). For him, medicine is composed of a theoretical part, which corresponds to natural philosophy, and a practical part of its own; contra Avicenna, he abandons the exis- tence of a distinct and specific medical theory. The conse- quence of such a presentation is evident: the medical theory no longer constitutes a proper part of medicine, and while the doctor must know it, he must not learn it as a science that forms an integral part of his discipline. The influence of Averroes on the relation between phi- losophy and medicine appears to be even more evident in Paris and Montpellier, probably because the two disciplines are more distinct in these particular universities. During the trial of the empiricist Jean de Domprémi (1423–1427), the masters of the faculty of Medicine in Paris declare ‘‘ubi desinit phisicus incipit medicus’’ (‘‘where the philosopher ends, the doctor begins’’), while in the preceding century Évrard de Conty uses a similar formula in his Livre des eschez amoureux moralisés: ‘‘ou philosophie fine, medicine commence.’’ Jacques Despars, in the first half of the fifteenth reflecting ‘‘as a philoso- century, comes to a synthesis between the Avicennian instru- mentalism and the Averroist definition slightly different from those of contemporary Italian authors: he tends to insist on the practical character of medicine, to distinguish it from theoretical questions that must come under natural philosophy, and thus must not influence recommended modes of treatments. For Despars, as claims Arnaud de Villeneuve in Montpellier at the beginning of the fourteenth century, the doctor is foremost a sensibilis artifex, whose explanations are hypothetical constructions founded on sensible experience, necessary for practice but only approx- imating truth without ever corresponding to it perfectly. So, in most of the Latin world, Avicennian instrumen- talism is adopted to resolve difficulties connected to the relation between medicine and philosophy, since it permits the conservation of the advanced therapeutic ideas of the first while it respects the truth expounded by the second; however, we must note that the precise interpretations vary from one place to another, in that they integrate more or less the restrictive definition of medicine given by Averroes in his Colliget. It seems reasonable to relate, in this case, these differences to institutional conditions then prevalent Medicine and Philosophy M 741 Madrid; Latin translation: Venice, 1482; Catalan translation: Vásquez de Benito M (2003). Trotta, Madrid Anyway, it Avicenna (1877) al-Qānūn fi at-tibb. Bulaq, Cairo; Latin translation: ˙ ˙ Milan, 1473; English translation: Book I. O. C. Gruber, London, 1930 Bartholomaeus of Salerno (1856) Practica, ed. De Renzi S. In: Collectio salernitana, vol IV. Tipografia del Filiatre-Sebezio, Naples, pp 321–406; Italian translation: A. Caparoni, Rome, 1960 d’Abano Pietro (1565) Conciliato controveriarum, quae inter Philosophos et Medicos versantur. Giunta, Venise (repr Antenore, Padua, 1985) Galen (2007) Que l’excellent médecin est aussi philosophe, ed. and French trans. Boudon-Millot V. Les Belles Lettres, Paris Gentile da Foligno (1520–1522) comm. Avicenna Canon, 4 vols. apud heredes O. Scoti, Venice Hippocrates (1923) Ancient medicine, ed. and English trans. Jones WHS. Harvard University Press-W.Heinemann, Cambridge Mass.-London. Loeb, I Hippocrates (1931a) Nature of man, ed. and English trans. Jones WHS. Harvard University Press-W.Heinemann, Cambridge Mass.-London. Loeb, IV Hippocrates (1931b) Regimen, ed. and English trans. Jones WHS. Harvard University Press-W.Heinemann, Cambridge Mass.-London. Loeb, IV Ibn Masawayh Yuh: anna (1980) Kitāb al-Nawādir al-tibbiyya (Medical ˙ axioms), ed., Latin version and French trans. Jacquart D, Troupeau G. Droz, Geneva al-Majūsı̄ ‘Alı̄ ibn al-Abbās (1877) al-Kitāb al-Malakı̄. Bulaq, Cairo Urso of Salerno (1976) De commixtionibus elementorum libellus, ed. Stürner W. Stuttgarter Beitrage zur Geschichte und Politik. Ernst Klett, Stuttgart Secondary Sources M Agrimi J, Crisciani C (1988) ‘Edocere medicos’. Medicina scolastica nei secoli XIII-XV. Guerini, Milano/Napoli Cadden J (1996) Western medicine and natural philosophy. In: Bullough VL, Brundage JA (eds) Handbook of medieval sexuality. Garland, New York, pp 51–80 Crisciani C (2007–2008) Medicina e filosofia nel Medioevo: aspetti e fasi di un rapporto discusso. I Castelli di Yale – Quaderni di filosofia, pp 9–35 Edelstein L (1952) The relation of ancient philosophy to medicine. Bull Hist Med 26:299–316 Nasr ▶ Galen, Grmek MD (1998) Western medical thought from Antiquity to the Middle Ages. Harvard University Press, Harvard Jacquart D (1998) La médecine médiévale dans le cadre parisien. Fayard, Paris Jacquart D (2004) Médecine et philosophie naturelle à Salerne au XIIe siècle. In: Delogu P, Peduto P (eds) Salerno nel XII secolo: Istituzioni, società, cultura. Atti del convegno internazionale, Raito di Vietri sul Mare, Auditorium di Villa Guariglia, 16–20 giugno 1999. Incisivo Industrie Graphice s.r.l., Salerno, pp 399–407 Jacquart D, Micheau F (1990) La médecine arabe et l’Occident medieval. Maisonneuve et Larose, Paris Jordan MD (1987) Medicine as science in the early commentaries on ‘Johannitius’. Traditio 43:121–145 Jordan MD (1990) The construction of a philosophical medicine: exegesis and argument in Salernitan teaching on the soul. In: McVaugh M-R, Latinus XIII.1, Siraisi NG (eds) Renaissance medical learning. Osiris, II s., 6, pp 42–61 Kristeller PO (1978) Philosophy and medicine in medieval and Renais- sance Italy. In: Spicker SF (ed) Organism, medicine, and metaphysics. Reidel, Dordrecht, pp 29–40 ed. Forneas Besteiro JM, Kristeller PO (1986) Studi sulla Scuola medica salernitana. Istituto cientificas, Italiano per gli studi filosofici, Naples eleventh and twelfth Medicine, al-Majūsı̄’s Complete Book on the Medical Art, 24:211–256 and Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine that by its comprehen- Villanova, De de Barcelona, siveness and sophisticated organization dominated the field for centuries and gave rise to a long series of com- mentaries and adaptations. Apart from general handbooks such as these, there is a rich and, to a degree, innovative teaching at the University literature on special disciplines, notably ophthalmology, philosophy. A study of materia medica, and general surgery – although highly Bibliopolis, Naples, invasive operations would seem to have been performed comparably rarely. Actual medical attendance may be des Alexandrins aux Arabes. witnessed in larger towns, preferably political centers, grecque. Etudes sur la which offered doctors to have an office of their own, to au dix-neuvième siècle. Droz, visit the patient in his own house, to perform their services two generations of in public places – this activity was ideally controlled by the Press, Princeton municipal authorities – or, most honorably, to be part of a medical philosophy. a team in a hospital which constituted the center of public medical welfare, medical instruction, and research. The in classical antiquity. health and disease. ideals of professional ethics are represented in a consider- able number of works on the history, state, and demands of in Late Antiquity. Janus the medical art, on examinations, and on the business of quacks and charlatans; they reflect discussions of late Antiq- uity on the relation between medicine and philosophy. Treatises on ‘‘Prophetic medicine’’ emerged in the ninth century, flourished in the period of Sunni anti-Hellenistic traditionalism, the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and are quite popular today, as can be seen from numer- ous modern printings. Their authors were religious scholars rather than physicians. One of the earliest speci- mens of Prophetic medicine is the ninth-century Medicine of the Imams by al-Husayn b. Bist:ām b. Sābūr and his ˙ brother, writing in Iran, which collects medical advice of the Prophet and of Shı̄ʿite religious authorities, magical expedients, and prescriptions of compound drugs. Another example is the contemporaneous Summary on Medicine by the Andalusian Ibn Habı̄b (d. around ˙ 853). From the heyday of this type of compilations, we have the works of the scholars of Hanbalı̄ jurisprudence, ˙ Ibn al-Jawzı̄ (d. 1200), Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (d. 1351), and of al-Suyūt:ı̄ (d. 1505). The Medicine of the Prophet by the Damascene historian and Shāfiʿite traditionist al- Dhahabı̄ (d. 1348) again compiles medical sayings from religious authorities, but also from Greek medical authors such as Hippocrates, Galen, and Dioscurides along with Arabic authors in this tradition, for example, al-Rāzı̄ and Avicenna. The peculiar fusion of this tradition and that of al-t:ibb al-nabawı̄ (Prophetic medicine) is evident in a passage in the beginning of this work, which presupposes the Galenic definition of health as the right balance (Greek eukrasia, Arabic i ʿtidāl) of the four humors and then goes on to attribute the progressively perfect balance to, first, Medicine in the Arab World M 743 than the former, is his Book for al-Mans:ūr, dedicated to the Sāmānid ruler Abū Sālih: al-Mans:ūr b. Ish: āq in Rayy ˙ (south of today’s Tehran), where al-Rāzı̄ directed a hospital. The two most famous medical encyclopedias in medieval Islam are ʿAlı̄ b. al-ʿAbbās al-Majūsı̄’s (around 980) Complete Book on the Medical Art (Latin: Liber regius, after another version of the Arabic title, Royal Book) and Avicenna’s (Ibn Sı̄nā, d. 1037) Canon of Medicine (Latin: Liber canonis). In accordance with the ancient classification, al-Majūsı̄ divides medicine into theory (part 1) and practice (part 2); the first part dealing with the fundamental concepts of elements, humors, natures, faculties, anatomy, the natural and non-natural causes influencing the human body and soul, the doctrines of symptoms and diagnosis, pathology, the second part with hygienics and therapy. In his introduction, the author interestingly evaluates at length the works of his predeces- sors, duly praising Hippocrates and Galen, but critically noting the former’s terseness and the latter’s prolixity, and pointing out omission of entire medical disciplines and lack of systematic order in other Greek and Arabic works. The most famous medical encyclopedia in Arabic is cer- tainly Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine, whose rigorous and sophisticated arrangement of material shows the author’s mastery of logic and philosophy in general and helped to M dominate the medical theories in the Islamic world and later in Latin Europe. The Canon consists of five ‘‘books’’; the first covers much of what al-Majūsı̄’s Complete Book treats in its first part, the second book treats the simple medicinal substances (in alphabetical order), the third and fourth books basically deal with illnesses concerning only one part of the body and more than a single organ (like fevers), respectively, and the fifth book contains a formulary of compound substances. The systematic rigor of the Canon has necessitated various forms of vulgarization. Already the author himself published an epitome of its core material in didactic rhyme, and the list of subsequent commentaries, supra-commentaries, and summaries is indeed long. Perhaps the most influential commentator and epitomator of the Canon is Ibn al-Nafı̄s (d. 1288) who, in the section on the anatomy of the heart, famously asserted, against Galen’s prevalent doc- trine of a passage connecting the ventricles of the heart, that there is no such connection, visible or invisible, and that the blood in the right ventricle must arrive at the left one by way of the lungs – thus intimating, though not precisely formulating and proving, the model of the so-called ‘‘lesser’’ circulation. In the Islamic West, a noteworthy medical encyclopedia was compiled by Abū l-Qāsim al-Zahrāwı̄ (d. soon after 1009), putting medical knowledge at the disposal of those unable to and measures, for example, actual reports on six opera- tions on a cataract, including his invention of a metallic hollow needle used to suck the cataract from the eye, and on the examination of the pupil’s reaction to light incidence before operating a cataract. Other authors describe an operation to treat corneal vascularization, a complication of trachoma, which is called peritomy today and which involved the use of hooks to keep the eye open during surgery and of a thin scalpel for excision. Another flourishing field of Arabic medical literature and practice was pharmacology. As for Arabic authors Galen was the chief authority in general medicine, so was Dioscurides (d. around 90) the leading author on materia medica, whose work was translated into Syriac and Arabic at a very early stage and was repeatedly commented upon by authors such as Ibn Juljul (d. after 994) and Ibn al- Bayt:ār (d. 1248). The latter composed also a work on ‘‘simple’’ drugs and their use against illnesses a capite ad calcem, and thirdly, the most famous compilation of phar- macognosy and dietetics, based on his own observations and excerpts from over 250 works and describing, in alphabetical order, more than 1400 medicaments, the Comprehensive Book on Simple Drugs and Foodstuffs. In pharmacology, one may say that Arabic writers excelled over their Greek forerunners, because their wider geo- graphical horizons introduced them to a vast variety of new plants and drugs, and because of their descriptive sophistication and not least their keen interest in linguistic and terminological matters. Medical attendance in the medieval Arab and Iranian world depended, like any other public service, on the economic and political situation in a given place and period. Urban settlements were privileged over rural areas, and political centers offered more opportunity to claim and dispense medical treatment than provincial towns. Principally, doctors could operate in their own office, or visiting the patient in his own house, or in the streets and on the markets, or in a hospital. Administering treatment in a public place was the business of popular practitioners – bone-setters, cuppers, quacks pretending to heal eye and tooth complaints, and often was the object of control by the official inspector of the market (muh: tasib). Hospitals, on the other hand, are after 1010) is the author of a manifestation of a continuous respectable concern of Muslim society with public welfare. Generally, the foun- dation of hospitals was due to the initiative of the ruler and the high officials surrounding him and was part of their aim – often in the initial phases of new dynasties which wanted to manifest their profile and splendor – to inventory of further the public weal by establishing religious and secular institutions – in addition to hospitals, schools, Medicine in the Arab World M 745 ʿAlı̄ b. Ridwān’s (d. 1068) treatises The Useful Book on How ˙ to Teach the Art of Medicine, On the Path to Happiness by Medicine, and The High Rank/Dignity (Arabic sharaf ) of Medicine, and Sāʿid b. al-Hasan’s (writing in 1072) ˙ ˙ Arousing the Desire for Medicine. These programmatic monographs are complemented by handbooks for the examination of the student of medicine (al-Rāzı̄’s On Examining and Appointing the Physician contains several quotations from Galen’s corresponding work) and for the control of the physician practicing in public by the muh: tasib, and by polemical treatises exposing the tricks of medical charlatans, as contained in al-Jawbarı̄’s (around 1240) ˙ Book of Selection on Disclosing Secrets and Lifting Veils. Both the claims of medicine to constitute a ‘‘noble art,’’ founded on philosophical authority, and the lamentations over its shortcomings and present decline have their roots in Late Antiquity. In its Athenian phase, philosophy had enjoyed the eminent status of a religion for intellectuals and in Alexandrian scholarship a central position as art (Greek technē) and as science (epistēmē), which furnishes the other sciences with their principles (medicine, according to Ammonius son of Hermias, receiving from philosophy its system of elements). In later Alexandrian scholarship, beginning with the fifth century, philosophy as an academic career lost its basis; whereas rhetors, gram- M marians, particularly physicians after their examination found a flourishing job market, philosophy graduates had to look for openings in rhetoric, teaching grammar, and not least in medicine: many of the sixth and seventh- century Alexandrian commentators on Aristotle’s works worked as doctors – a lucrative profession, which drew the jealousy of the few advocates of ‘‘pure’’ philosophy and which, in turn, explains the remarkable self-image of medicine as a philosophical discipline. In Arabic medi- cine, this characteristic persisted: all medical encyclope- dias and many monographs on special subjects display their theoretical basis at length and organize their subject matter in strict hierarchy; even the ‘‘practical part’’ of these works obeys the – highly speculative – theory of humoral pathology, and references to Aristotelian logic and natural science and Galenic ethics are ubiquitous. As in Alexan- dria (and in Byzantium) the philosopher-physician was a prominent figure in Islam: al-Rāzı̄, Ibn al-Tayyib ˙ (a commentator on works by Aristotle, Hippocrates, and Galen, who was a physician at the ʿAdudiyya hospital in ˙ Baghdad and d. in 1043), Avicenna, and Ibn Rushd (Averroes, d. 1198) are well-known examples. On the other hand, representatives of ‘‘pure’’ philosophy have disputed the philosophical aspirations of medicine. Al-Fārābı̄ (d. 950), a scholar working in Baghdad and disdaining any financial gain from a non-philosophical Neoplatonism and Byzantine literature (Collected papers). Adolf M. Hakkert, Amsterdam, pp 83–91) Zimmermann FW (1976) Al-Farabi und die philosophische Kritik an Galen von Alexander zu Averroes. In Dietrich A (ed) Akten des VII. Kongresses für Arabistik und Islamwissenschaft, Göttingen, 15. bis 22. August 1974. Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, Phil.-Hist. Kl., Dritte Folge, Nr. 98. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Göttingen, pp 401–414 defined medicine as with treating as in (philosophical) and to Medicine, Byzantine with the BARBARA ZIPSER Department of History Royal Holloway University of London to ‘‘certainty.’’ Egham UK ammad ibn Zakarı̄yāʾ Medicine Abū Nasr ▶ Galen, Arabic Abstract The Byzantine period saw a massive rise in the production ▶ Ibn al-Tayyib ▶ Med- of medical encyclopedias. These were mostly based on earlier models, mainly Galen. Only in few cases these models were criticized. The language of these texts was mainly learned Byzantine Greek; the vernacular was rarely used. Overall, there was a certain tendency toward the practical application of medicine rather than physician’s remuneration in a development of new models. Medical practice centered around hospitals. Some of Grundriss der Arabischen these institutions also had the facilities to offer a specialized treatment, for instance for gynecological problems. Medizin im Islam. Sudhoffs The medical history of the Byzantine age (roughly speak- ing fourth to mid-fifteenth century CE) is not easily Press, Edinburgh described. If one understands ‘‘Byzantine’’ as being part of the eponymous empire, one has to bear in mind that Rosenthal F (1990) Science this same empire changed its geographical boundaries essays, VIII. Variorum, over the centuries. If, on the other hand, one assumes of Islam, new edition, that Greek language was the main characteristic of Byzan- tine culture, this raises the problem that the geographical Vol III: Medizin – extension of the Byzantine empire never coincided with the area in which Greek was spoken, as the vernacular in Philoponus’ commen- J (ed) Symposium on everyday life, or as the lingua franca of learned academic discourse. In the case of medical writings it is often impos- der Orientalistik. sible to decide from where the text originated, or where it Abschnitt. Brill, Leiden/ was revised, and beyond doubt there was an exchange between the different parts of the Greek speaking world. 11. University Press, A variety of sources give us insight into the medical in Late Antiquity. Janus practice of the Byzantine period. Archaeological sites allow us to understand the structure and capacity of Medicine, Byzantine M 747 way in dealing with the patients. Other works attributed to Alexander are texts on ophthalmology, fevers, and intes- tinal worms. Paul of Nicaea (date not entirely clear) wrote a handbook in form of an erotapokrisis (or ‘‘question and answer’’ style). All of these texts suitable as reference books for an educated medic. Another group of texts has a similar aim but differs from the aforementioned in a crucial point: their authors remain obscure, and we only have a vague idea about the date and the history of these texts. The shortest and most learned is Leo’s Synopsis, definitely written before the tenth century, which shares a large amount of content with an encyclopedia by Theophanes Chrysobalantes. From this text, or a cluster of material with a similar content, the Therapeutics of John the Physician was derived. John’s work was then translated into the vernacular and a commentary was added. Later on, probably in Constan- tinople, an unknown reviser attempted to translate the text back into the learned idiom. Some parts of these works coincide with the so-called xenonika, medical texts associated with hospitals; also their scope is similar. Theory is disappearing or taken for granted and these texts are largely focusing on therapy. This means that an author might mention phlegm or bile and offer a treatment, but does not explicitly refer to the M theoretical background of the humoral pathology, or in any other way explain why he chose this very remedy. One of the typical genres of the Byzantine period is that of the so-called iatrosophion; these are compilations which can be based on earlier or contemporary authors or both, and can either fill an entire volume or just a few pages. The iatrosophia usually have a thematic structure (although this might not be apparent at first sight) and are personalized to the extreme: from what was available to him, the compiler selected anything he believed to be useful and organized it in a way that made sense to him. At the other end of the spectrum, we might rank some highly sophisticated writings produced in the mid to late Byzantine period. Theophilos Protospatharios (probably ninth or tenth century CE) wrote a Christian interpreta- tion of human anatomy mainly based on Galen’s de usu partium. Meletius, probably a contemporary, also wrote on anatomy, but with a more strongly teleological approach. His work contains numerous quotes from lit- erary sources. Nicolaos Myrepsos (thirteenth century AD) and Symeon Seth (eleventh century) wrote on antidotes. Stephanus of Athens (sixth century CE) is the most prom- inent commentator of the time. He wrote on Hippocrates and Galen. Ioannes Zacharias Actuarius (fourteenth cen- tury CE) is commonly regarded as the most intellectually refined medical author of the period. His works deal with Horden P (1982) Saints and doctors in the early Byzantine empire: the case of Theodore of Sykeon. Stud Church Hist 19:1–13 models. Hunger H (1978) Die hochsprachliche profane Literatur der Byzantiner, 2 vols. Beck, Munich Miller T (1997) The birth of the hospital in the Byzantine empire. Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore/London Nutton V (1988) Archiatri and the medical profession in antiquity. In: From Democedes to Harvey: studies in the history of medicine from the the Greeks to the Renaissance. Variorum Reprint, London, pp 191–226 Nutton V (2007) Galen in Byzantium. In: Grünbart M, Kislinger E, Muthesius A, Stathakopoulos D (eds) Material culture and well- being in Byzantium (400–1453). Verlag der oesterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Vienna, pp 171–176 together Zipser B (2005) Die Therapeutica des Alexander Trallianus: Ein medizinisches Handbuch und seine Überlieferung. In: Piccione R- M, Perkams M (eds) Selecta Colligere, II. Beiträge zur Methodik des Sammelns von Texten in der Spätantike und in Byzanz (Collana in the Hellenika). Edizioni dell’Orso, Alessandria pp 211–234 Lugduni Batavorum/ Meister Eckhart Protospatharius ALESSANDRO PALAZZO Department of Filosofia, Storia e Beni Culturali (CMG IX 1–2). In aedibus Università degli Studi di Trento Trento Graeci minores. Reimeri, Italy medico. Bibliopolis, Libri medicinales I–VIII Abstract Eckhart of Hochheim (c. 1260–1328), a leading figure Alexander Trallianus. nebst einer bisher noch within the Dominican order, was a professional theologian and as such he performed all the three duties related to his profession, lecturing on the Bible and on the Sentences, on the nature of man disputing questions, and preaching sermons. He was twice appointed as theology professor at the University of Paris. Nonni Epitome de Eckhart’s reputation is confirmed by the several senior posts he held in the administration of his order. One original characteristic of Eckhart’s work lies in therapeutics. A medical hand- the fact that he carried out a large part of his literary activity in Middle High German by reframing for wider audiences the issues discussed during disputations in class and the themes explored in his specialist lectures with xenones in the on the Bible. In so doing, he contributed to the creation of Leon Iatrosophista. of a German technical philosophical vocabulary. Eckhart’s effort to present the arduous contents of scholastic specu- traité de Rhazès sur lation to common people seems to have been a crucial ecdotique des textes médicaux factor in the proceedings for heresy to which he was greci. Atti del II Convegno D’ Auria, Napoli subjected towards the end of his life and which led to in the Byzantine a posthumous condemnation of some propositions drawn from his works. Meister Eckhart M 749 Whom it comes back in a timeless movement and in a dialectic of identity and difference. In his writings Eck- hart explores the metaphysical, anthropological, ethical, and religious aspects and implications of this privileged connection God-ground of the soul, a connection which constitutes an exception to the general rule of analogy predominant in the God-creatures relation. Moreover, since people usually live plunged in the dimension of creatureliness and estranged from their authentic self, Eckhart’s preaching aims at making them become con- scious of their inner union with God. Recent scholarship has shed light on the dependence of Eckhart’s speculation about the nobility of the soul on the noetics and the anthropology of Albert the Great, whose name appeared in Eckhart’s first work, the Sermo Pasqualis, and whose teachings set the intellectual back- ground in Germany from the mid-thirteenth to the mid- fourteenth century. It has also been rightly emphasized how relevant some teachings of Dietrich of Freiberg (e.g., the doctrine of image), with whom Eckhart was personally acquainted (between 1294 and 1298 Eckhart was the vicar of Dietrich, provincial of the Dominican province of Teutonia), were for his thought. Works M An Easter sermon in Latin (Sermo Pasqualis: LW V, 136–148) and the Collatio in Libros Sententiarum (LW V, 17–26), which depends in some ways on the Collatio of the Franciscan Richard Rufus of Cornwall, are all that remain of Eckhart’s early teaching activity as Bachelor of the Sentences in Paris (1293–1294). Both texts are noteworthy for the large number of references to philosophical and scientific literature: Avicenna’s De animalibus and De anima, the pseudo-Hermetic Liber XXIV philosophorum, Ptolemy’s Almagestus, al-Farġānı̄’s Rudimenta astronomica, Maimonides’ Dux neutrorum, Aristotle’s Physica, Boethius’ Philosophiae consolatio, etc., are quoted, either implicitly or explicitly. The use of al- Farġānı̄ and Maimonides is very unusual in the context of a Collatio, a lecture serving as a prologue to Eckhart’s commentary upon Lombard’s Sentences. Even this early in his career, Eckhart showed himself fully aware of the exegetical value of philosophical authorities and also persuaded that there is substantial harmony between the Holy Scriptures and the Fathers, on the one hand, and philosophical learning, on the other. The Talks (Die Rede, DW V, 185–309; the more com- mon title Die rede der underscheidunge is not original), are the result of table-talks given by Eckhart to the novices of the convent at Erfurt. They are the earliest evidence of essendi since He, as intellect, pre-contains everything in purity, plenitude, and perfection. The otherness of intellect from being is clearly established in the second disputation (Utrum intelligere angeli, ut dicit actionem, sit suum esse, LW V, 49–54), where Eckhart expands further on the concept of intellect as intellect (intellectus, in quantum intellectus), on which Albert the Great and Dietrich of Freiberg had already worked. Being pertains to those substances which exist in space and time and are determined according to genus and species. Intellect can also be taken as a being, namely as a natural power of the soul which is a principle eliciting single acts of intellection. However, if considered in its proper nature, intellect is something which escapes any kind of determination, whether by time or by space or by genus and species, and is therefore radically different from all other substances which are given a being localized in space and time and restricted to one genus and species. Probably around 1304, or even earlier, Eckhart started working on an original theological summa, the Opus tripartitum (the Three-Part Work), which, however, he left unfinished. According to the original project, the work would have had three parts: the Work of General Propositions (Opus generalium propositionum), the Work of Questions (Opus quaestionum), and the Work of Exposi- tions (Opus expositionum). The first part would have contained a thousand or more propositions concerning the transcendental terms (Being, Unity, Truth, and Good- ness) and other metaphysical concepts. The Work of Ques- tions was to solve some of the questions discussed in the Summa theologiae of Aquinas. The Work of Expositions was subdivided into two parts, one consisting of an exegetical commentary on the authorities (auctoritates) contained in the books of the two Testaments, and the other of a series of sermons (Opus sermonum). To Eckhart’s mind, the general propositions were clearly to provide the fundamental philosophical princi- ples according to which a theologian should both solve disputed questions and interpret Sacred Scriptures. In the General Prologue (LW I, 148–165) Eckhart offers a concrete example of his way of proceeding in the Opus tripartitum: he first formulates the general proposition ‘‘Being is God’’ (Esse est Deus); then, on this basis, he goes on to answer the question ‘‘Whether God is’’ (Utrum Deus sit) and elucidate the meaning of Genesis 1,1 (In principio creavit deus caelum et terram). Of the original project Eckhart accomplished, besides the prologues (a General Prologue, a prologue to the Opus propositionum, and two different prologues to the Opus expositionum), only some of the third part (Work of Expo- sitions): commentaries on a few books of the Bible (two on Meister Eckhart M 751 conviction about the unity of Truth: Moses, Christ, and Aristotle, Eckhart maintains, teach the very same things, the only difference being in the way they do it. The second commentary on Genesis (one of the last parts, if not the very last, of the Opus tripartitum to have been written) marks a substantial change in the original project of the Opus because, unlike the first commentary, it focuses only on the explanation of the parables – hence the title Liber parabolarum Genesis (LW I,1, 447–702). One scholar has claimed that the commentary could be the first book of an entirely new project: the Liber de parabolis rerum naturalium (The Book of the Parables of Natural Things) (see Sturlese 2007). The Liber Benedictus, consisting of the Book of Divine Consolation (Daz buoch der götlı̂chen troestunge, DW V, 8– 61) and a sermon On the Nobleman (Von dem edeln Menschen, DW V, 109–119), is generally dated after 1318. It is more difficult to date the German sermons, because Eckhart had always with him a ‘‘book’’ of his sermons, composed at different times, on which he con- tinually kept working by adding, revising, etc. Some of them seem to have been composed quite early (e.g., those forming the so-called Gottesgeburt cycle [sermons 101– 104] seem to date back to the time of the Rede [1294– 1298]). Those belonging to the Paradisus animae M intelligentis collection may date from the time of his provincialate (1303–1311). It is generally assumed that Eckhart’s vernacular preaching should be seen in light of the movement of female piety and Beguine spirituality flourishing at that time in Germany; Eckhart’s sermons, in other words, would have been an attempt to face the challenge represented by various forms of Beguine mysticism and to reconcile them with the orthodoxy. Whatever may be physical’’ the nature of his relationship with the Beguine move- ment, it is certain that in his German treatises and sermons Eckhart discusses and analyses the same con- tents and motifs as in his Latin scholastic writings. From what Pope John XXII states in the bull ‘‘In agro dominico’’ it can be argued that one of the chief reasons for Eckhart’s legal misfortunes was that he had preached highly speculative concepts in front of an audience of simple people, thereby confounding the true faith in their hearts. Even before the proceedings took place, Eckhart seems to have been reproached for writing or preaching such ideas to the untaught. At the end of the Book of Divine Consolation, he replied that the untaught were exactly the people needing instruction with a view to making them become learned, and that he could not worry about being misunderstood because he was aware that what he had said or written was true. Given these (1936–) Die lateinischen Werke (LW) ed. Benz E, Christ K, Decker B, Fischer H, Geyer B, Koch J, Seeberg E, Sturlese L, Weiss K, Zimmer- mann A. Die deutschen und lateinischen Werke, hrsg. im Auftrage der Deutschen Forschungsgemeinschaft, 5 vols. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart of the spiritual Secondary Sources (Most Recent Publications) Monographs Büchner C (2007) Die Transformation des Einheitsdenkens Meister ip Eckharts bei Heinrich Seuse und Johannes Tauler (Meister-Eckhart- Jahrbuch Beihefte: Heft 1). Kohlhammer, Stuttgart Flasch K (2006) Meister Eckhart: die Geburt der ‘‘Deutschen Mystik’’ aus dem Geist der arabischen Philosophie. Beck, München Mieth D (2004) Meister Eckhart. Mystik und Lebenskunst. Patmos, Düsseldorf and the Collections Enders M (2008) Gelassenheit und Abgeschiedenheit. Studien zur deutschen Mystik. Boethiana. Forschungsergebnisse zur Philosophie 82. Verlag Dr. Kovač, Hamburg Hasse DN, Weigand R (eds) (2009) Meister-Eckhart-Jahrbuch, 3. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart Aristotelian Kühn R, Laoureux S (eds) (2008) Meister Eckhart – Erkenntnis und Mystik des Lebens. Forschungsbeiträge der Lebensphänomenologie Seele, Existenz, Leben. Band 6. Karl Alber, Freiburg/München Leppin V, Schiewer H-J (eds) (2007) Meister-Eckhart-Jahrbuch, 1. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart Quero-Sánchez A, Steer G (eds) (2008) Meister-Eckhart-Jahrbuch, 2. pure and Kohlhammer, Stuttgart Speer A, Wegener L (eds) (2005) Meister Eckhart in Erfurt. Miscellanea Mediaevalia 32. De Gruyter, Berlin/New York Steer G, Sturlese L (eds) (2003) Lectura Eckhardi II. Predigten Meister Eckharts von Fachgelehrten gelesen und gedeutet. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart consciousness Steer G, Sturlese L (eds) (2009) Lectura Eckhardi III. Predigten Meister Eckharts von Fachgelehrten gelesen und gedeutet. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart Sturlese L (2007) Homo divinus. Philosophische Projekte in Deutschland zwischen Meister Eckhart und Heinrich Seuse. Kohlhammer, Stuttgart in com- Sturlese L (ed) (2008) Studi sulle fonti di Meister Eckhart. I. Aristoteles – Augustinus – Avicenna – Dionysius – Liber de Causis – Proclus – Seneca. Dokimion 34. Academic Press, Fribourg Vannier M-A (ed) (2006) La naissance de Dieu dans l’âme chez Eckhart et Nicolas de Cues. Patrimoines – Christianisme. Les Èditions du Cerf, Paris timeless pro- Journal Articles Sturlese L (2006) Dietrich di Freiberg lettore di Eckhart? Giornale critico della filosofia italiana 85(87):437–453 Web Sites http://www.meister-eckhart-gesellschaft.de/ – which informs about the activities of the Meister-Eckhart-Gesellschaft, including its annual of Freiberg ▶ Peter conferences, and presents a continually updated bibliography starting from 1997 onward http://german.berkeley.edu/people/files/nlargier/meb/mebmai05.html – which is based on Largier N (1989) Bibliographie zu Meister Eckhart. Universitätsverlag, Freiburg and records Eckhart bibliography up to 1989 http://www.eckhartsociety.org/ – which accounts for the initiatives of The J, Steer G. Die deutschen Eckhart Society, including its annual conferences http://www.eckhart.de/ – which is very rich in information concerning Eckhart’s life and works and Eckhart scholarship Mental Language M 753 was the first to present a comprehensive theory of mental language. In addition to human mental language, Ockham also discussed the problems his theory poses for the language of angels (Rep. II.20; Quodl. I.6). On the devel- opment of different views of mental words and concepts before Ockham, see the entry Mental Word/Concepts. Ockham began to develop his view of mental language in his early writings by adopting Augustine’s distinction between two types of mental words: those that are the same for all human beings and those that are mental renderings of actual spoken words (Ord. I.27.2). He con- sidered the first type to be mental words in a proper sense, whereas he considered latter to be mental words only in an improper sense. The first type of mental word had several characteristics of Ockham’s later, mature concept of a syncategorematic mental word: such word was unam- biguous and could be the subject or the predicate of a mental proposition. Ockham conceived of these words as being produced by intuitive cognition, and, according to him, as concepts they were proper objects of the acts of knowledge. The formation of a mental sentence with the help of this type of mental word seems to imply a nonlinear rather than a discursive act of understanding, where the conceptual ficta of subject and predicate are combined by a syncategorematic act. During this stage M Ockham seems to have excluded syncategorematic and connotative concepts from the group of proper mental words, considering such terms as belonging to the second type of mental words, those derived directly from spoken and written languages (Ord. I.2.8). Walter Chatton criti- cized this view, since according to him syncategorematic concepts are not conventional, as mental words of the second type were supposed to be. Rather they are pro- duced naturally, as are the categorematic concepts. At the heart of Ockham’s mature concept of mental language, outlined in his Summa logicae, was the priority of mental terms vis-à-vis written and spoken terms in regards to signification. The terms of conventional languages derive their signification from the terms of mental language. Ockham conceived of signification in a specifically propositional context. A term signifies when it directs the mind’s attention to the external objects and at the same time stands for those objects in a proposition. Accordingly, Ockham conceived mental terms as signs in addition to written and vocal terms. With such a primary logical notion, Ockham began to construct a view of mental language by eliminating certain features of the conventional spoken and written languages that were not essential for signification. These included metaphorical expressions and genders, but not such features as numbers, cases, declensions, and so on. their nominal definitions to be synonymous (for arguments for and against this view, see Panaccio 2004). Ockham believed that the categorematic terms of a mental language are passively acquired through the psychological processes of sense perception, abstraction, and intellectual cognition rather than being either innate or learned. According to Ockham’s mature theory, the syncategorematic terms are not passively acquired as are the categorematic ones. Rather they are caused by the innate capabilities of the rational soul. A particular problem that led to wide discussion con- cerns the structure of mental propositions. Ockham noted that there are propositions that do not have the same truth-values, although they consist of the same terms, but in different order. Since the terms of a mental sentence are simultaneous acts that take place in an unextended mind, they cannot be ordered either temporally or spa- tially. As a solution, Ockham proposed that a mental proposition is either one cognitive act, which is equivalent to an ordered combination of terms, or that it is composed of parts, which are not identical to individual spoken and written words. A similar problem was also raised by Wil- liam of Heytesbury. He concluded that whereas spoken and written propositions are distinguished by their con- stituent words and their order, mental propositions may be distinguished by cognitive acts that do not correspond exactly to individual words in the written sentences. A categorical proposition must have at least two mental concepts of things and one that composes or divides the concepts, but there can be more acts that link the concepts together in different ways. In fourteenth-century Oxford, Ockham’s theory was immediately criticized by Dominican thinkers. Hugh Law- ton objected to the very idea that there are propositions in the mind and consequently held that, properly speaking, propositions exist only in written and spoken languages. Lawton argued that it can be shown that at least some propositions of external languages do not have mental counterparts, that external speech and the operations of the mind are generally incommensurable, that there is no way to account for the formation of mental propositions, and that mental similitudes cannot serve the linguistic functions necessary for a proper language. Lawton’s fellow Dominican, William Crathorn, launched similar criticism against the idea of a mental language based on natural similitudes of things. However, unlike Lawton, Crathorn developed the notion of a mental language that is composed of the mental simili- tudes of the words in the spoken and written languages. Another Oxford Dominican, Robert Holcot, responded to Crathorn’s criticism and defended Ockham’s position. Mental Language M 755 developed Gregory’s view of insolubles and adopted his view of the mental proposition as one undivided act. Like Buridan, Peter considered the personal supposition the only option for mental terms (Peter of Ailly, Concepts and Insolubles: 67–68). In Italy, the discussion proceeded in a slightly different manner. Peter of Mantua construed a view where each written term of a proposition, be it categorematic, syncat- egorematic, absolute, or connotative, was subordinated to a single, noncomplex term in the mental language. Thus, ‘‘is’’ in the proposition ‘‘man is not an animal’’ corre- sponds to an act that links the subject with the predicate, but does not affirm the latter of the former, whereas ‘‘not’’ corresponds to an act that denies that the predicate inheres in the subject. As Gaetano of Thiene did later, Peter directed many of his critical comments against the views of William of Heytesbury. In contrast, Paul of Venice espoused the view that was close to Heytesbury’s in several points. Aware of the prob- lems of transferring the word order of external sentences to their mental counterparts, Paul stated that there must be an order of mental acts in a mental proposition that are metaphysically understood as possessing a discrete quantity and that do not contradict the mind’s non-extensionality, which is only incompatible with con- M tinuous quantity. The order can be a temporal succession, but the intellect is also capable of thinking of one or more propositions simultaneously. Unlike Gregory of Rimini, Paul considered a mental proposition to be a compositional whole. Similar views are also found in Blasius Parmensis. In discussing the word order of mental propositions, Paul noted on modal terms that in proposi- tions taken in a compound sense, the modal term comes first in the mental proposition, even though it stands at the end of the corresponding written or spoken sentence. Many fifteenth- and sixteenth-century logicians carried on lively discussions of several themes concerning mental language and commented on positions repre- sented by authors such as Ockham, Paul of Venice, and Gregory of Rimini. At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Gregory of Rimini’s view of the mental proposi- tion as one undivided act was adopted by very few authors, but later during the same century it gained many supporters, including Domingo de Soto and many Spanish Jesuit philosophers, to the point that the view eventually became the dominant one. See also: ▶ Augustine ▶ Boethius ▶ Gregory of Rimini ▶ Insolubles ▶ John Buridan ▶ Logic ▶ Mental Represen- tation ▶ Mental Word/Concepts ▶ Modistae ▶ Paul of Venice ▶ Philosophical Psychology ▶ Sophisms Mental Representation HENRIK LAGERLUND Department of Philosophy The University of Western Ontario London, ON Canada (trans: Spade PV). Reidel, librum primum Brown S, Etzkorn GI, Kelley Abstract of St. Bonaventure Uni- The concept of mental representation played an important role in late medieval cognitive theories. It was primarily Boehner Ph, Gál G, of St. Bonaventure introduced in the Latin translation of Avicenna and became a central concept by the mid-thirteenth century. In: Wey JC (ed) OT, vol 9. It was developed in several ways and all the features we University, St. Bonaventure now attribute to this concept were more or less already secundum present in the Middle Ages. Wood R (eds) OT, vol 5. University, St. Bonaventure The Ancient Background and the Formation of the Concept The English words ‘‘representation’’ and ‘‘to represent’’ century logicians. derive via Old French from the Latin words ‘‘repraesentatio’’ some problems and ‘‘repraesentare,’’ but these are by no means commonly Vivarium 20:59–83 used words in classical Latin. In late Ancient thought it is à l’Âge classique. foremost Quintillian and Tertullian that uses the terms in a philosophically interesting way. It is not until the twelfth theory of mental century Latin translation of Avicenna’s De anima that critique of Ockham these terms become frequently used in connection with cognition and the mind (see Lagerlund 2007). Early logic works like Garlandus Compotista’s Dialectica (17) and Abelard’s Dialectica (II, 188) discussed Scholasticism in the four- a distinction between a word’s signification by imposition RL, Ebbesen S (eds) John sciences, 1300–1700. and representation. A denominative term such as ‘‘white’’ Letters, Copenhagen, signifies by imposition a substance that is white, but it signifies by representation the whiteness inhering in the representation in late substance. The white thing stands in for or is an instanti- S (eds) John Buridan and ation of whiteness – white is re-presented in the object. 1300–1700. The Royal Dan- pp 237–265 Garlandus mentions the example of a traveler (viator) who can be said to represent a road (via). The term ‘‘traveler’’ Kluwer, Dordrecht, pp signifies by imposition the human being who is a traveler, but also represents the road the traveler travels on. It is Platon à Guillaume d’Ockham. exactly this usage of representation applied to mental signs Aldershot that becomes important with Ockham and Buridan. In: Marmo C (ed) Vestigia, medieval theological texts Thomas Aquinas and the Conformality View symposium on medieval The most influential theory of thought in the thirteenth century goes back to Aristotle and has its foremost medi- to the understanding of eval defender in Thomas Aquinas. It rests on viewing .phil.uu.nl/lecq/. mental representations or intelligible species, as Aquinas calls them, as sameness in form. The explanation for why Mental Representation M 757 attend to the object, or in such a way that it would pass beyond. If in the first way, then the thing will not be seen in itself but only its image will be seen as if it were the thing itself. That is the role of a memory species, not a visual one. If in the second way, then after the inspection of the species it will inspect the object in itself. In this way it will cognize the object in two ways, first through the species and second in itself. It will indeed be like when someone sees an intervening space and then beyond that sees the fixed object. (Peter John Olivi, Quaestiones in secundum librum Sententiarum, III, q. 74, 123.) consti- In this passage, it seems clear that for Olivi the species is a thing in itself and that there really are three things involved in the cognition of an object: the object, the species, and the cognizer. The species is on his view a re- presentation, namely a thing that stands in for the object in the mind. The main problem he sees with the theory is hence epistemological. How can we be sure we are cogniz- ing the object and not the species. Ockham will later repeat this objection (see Toivanen 2009, Chap. 4). Olivi hence argues that this third representing thing is not needed and that the mind can attend to the object directly. Henry of Ghent and John Duns Scotus and M the Introduction of Mental Content For various reasons, the late thirteenth century saw an increased interest in epistemology. One of the reasons for this were certain developments of new theories of mental representations and intentionality. Some of these devel- opments were due to problematic features of, on the one hand, Aquinas’ view of mental representation and on the other, of Henry of Ghent’s interpretation of Augustine’s view of divine cognition. Aquinas seems to have held that the intelligible species is supposed to play a dual role both as a universal common to all of us thinking it and as my individual thought. One and the same entity seems not to be able to fulfill both these roles. Henry on the other hand reinterprets Augustine’s doctrine of divine ideas and intro- duces a distinction between the ideas and the divine nature. The ideas are possibilia or the natures of possible things to be created (de Rijk 2005:81–84). Both of these views contribute to the introduction of a distinction between the vehicle and the content of a representation. The distinction developed by Henry in relation to the divine nature was almost immediately taken up into the debates about human cognition. It was applied to Aquinas’ theory of mental representation, taking the conformality view a step further by introducing a distinction between the thing representing and the thing represented. John Duns Scotus was instrumental in According to Ockham’s metaphysics there are only individ- uals in the world so that when an individual causes a concept to exist in the mind, it causes an individual concept and hence a singular conception of itself. Nothing else can cause that concept (except perhaps God). The singular concept functions as the word of the object that caused it in our language of thought. It is an atomic constituent that can then be combined to form more complex concepts or sentences in the language. In this way, one can say that Ockham develops a kind of medieval functionalism, since the determinate content of a concept is fully specified by the input (covari- ance) and the output (linguistic role) (see King 2007). I, d. 3, pars 3, q. 1, Ockham’s notion of concept acquisition and mental representation is developed as part of a very sophisticated theory of thought involving not only a theory of signifi- cation, but also a whole range of logico-semantic proper- ties such as connotation and supposition. It explains how concepts, which in turn are the direct objects of belief and knowledge, are assembled into mental sentences describ- ing the world (for the details, see Panaccio 2004). John Buridan and Vague Concept Ockham and John Buridan’s accounts of thought are on the one hand very similar, but on the other hand there are fundamental differences between them. This is particu- larly true when it comes to their view of mental represen- tation. A case in point is their views of singular thought. It starts out from the same idea, that is, that thinking some- thing singularly is having a singular concept in mind, but they disagree fundamentally on what a singular concept looks like and foremost on how it manages to latch onto the world. On Ockham’s account, as mentioned, a concept is singular because its cause was proper, as he calls it, and proper causes are necessarily tied to one object. But on Buridan’s account, a singular concept is singular because of its complexity. It has a descriptive content that enables it to narrow down its signification to only one thing. Buridan thinks that we always cognize or conceive of something first as singular, but this also means that we first conceive of it as this or that, that is, we conceive of it as something. For him, this also means that our concepts are from the very beginning loaded with some content and a proper singular concept picks out whatever it is of or represent in all circumstances. Such a concept is not vague, since it applies to only one thing, but it is also not what we first acquire. The first singular concepts we acquire are the so-called vague singulars. A vague concept is singular because it is about only one thing, but it is not determined what thing that is; examples of such concepts are ‘‘this human,’’ ‘‘this cup,’’ hence the name ‘‘vague singulars.’’ It is from these we arrive at determinate singular concepts Mental Word/Concepts M 759 King P (2007) Rethinking representation in the Middle Ages: a vade- mecum to mediaeval theories of mental representation. In: Lagerlund H (ed) Representation and objects of thought in medieval philosophy. Ashgate, Aldershot Lagerlund H (2006) What is singular thought? Ockham and Buridan on singular terms in the language of thought. In: Hirvonen V et al (eds) Mind and modality: studies in the history of philosophy in honour of Simo Knuuttila. Brill, Leiden Lagerlund H (2007) The terminological and conceptual roots of repre- sentation in the soul in late ancient and medieval philosophy. In: Lagerlund H (ed) Representation and objects of thought in medieval philosophy. Ashgate, Aldershot Lagerlund H (forthcoming) Singular terms and vague concepts in late medieval mental language theory or the decline and fall of mental language. In: Klima G (ed) Intentionality, cognition and representa- tion in the Middle Ages. Fordham University Press, New York Normore C (1986) Meaning and objective being: Descartes and his sources. In: Rorty AO (ed) Essays on Descartes’ Meditations. Uni- and finally about versity of California Press, Berkeley, pp 223–241 Panaccio C (2004) Ockham on concepts. Ashgate, Aldershot singular thing in Pasnau R (1997) Theories of cognition in the later Middle Ages. Cam- bridge University Press, Cambridge Pasnau R (2003) Cognition. In: Williams T (ed) The Cambridge com- panion to Duns Scotus. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, pp 285–311 Perler D (ed) (2001) Ancient and medieval theories of intentionality. Brill, Leiden Perler D (2002) Theorien der Intentionalität im Mittelalter. Vittorio Klostermann, Frankfurt Tachau KH (1988) Vision and certitude in the age of Ockham: optics, M ▶ John epistemology and the foundation of semantics 1250–1345. Brill, Leiden Toivanen J (2009) Animal consciousness: Peter Olivi on cognitive functions of the sensitive soul, Ph.D Dissertation, University of Jyvaskyla Tweedale M (1990) Mental representations in later medieval scholasti- cism. In: Smith J-C (ed) Historical foundations of cognitive science. Kluwer, Dordrecht, pp 35–51 Tweedale M (2007) Representation in scholastic epistemology. In: Lagerlund H (ed) Representation and objects of thought in medieval anima, ed. van Riet S and philosophy. Ashgate, Aldershot Subtilis et Typis Polyglottis LM. Van Gorcum, Mental Word/Concepts HE. Harvard Univer- TOIVO J. HOLOPAINEN Faculty of Theology University of Helsinki Helsinki Finland Abstract Van Gorcum, Assen critical edition The medieval thinkers did not have any one agreed-upon term for concept as a mental entity, but it was generally assumed that there are some such units and they were Aristotle here speaks of concepts as ‘‘affections in the soul,’’ but Boethius’ preferred terms for concept are ‘‘understanding’’ (intellectus) and, less frequently, ‘‘con- ception of the soul’’ (conceptio animae). Boethius’ discus- sion of the passage contains a number of ideas about concepts that would be influential in the Middle Ages. (intellectus), (1) There are concepts in the human mind that corre- spond to the words (in particular, nouns) of spoken lan- guage. (2) The concepts are natural in the sense that they are the same for all people. In contrast, the spoken words are conventional and vary from nation to nation. Speakers of different languages use different words to express the same concepts. (3) Semantically, the concepts mediate between words and things. Boethius explains that spoken words primarily signify concepts and only secondarily the things in the world. (4) Concepts are likenesses (similitudines, sing. similitudo) of things. To explain this idea, Boethius discusses the example of a geometrical fig- ure and its image in the mind. (5) Referring to earlier commentators, Boethius maintains that there is a kind of inner speech which makes use of concepts, but he does not develop the idea. Boethius did not use the word verbum to refer to concepts. He reserved that expression for another use: verbum in the meaning ‘‘verb’’ is one of the basic terms discussed in De interpretatione. There were other sources where verbum was used of words in general and of mental words in particular. The most influential of these was Augustine’s theological treatise De trinitate, where the author develops an analogy between the human interior word (verbum interior) and the Divine Word (Verbum), that is, the second person of the Trinitarian God (see De trinitate XV:10–16). The analogy about the word is part of a more extensive analogy between the three powers in the rational mind and the three persons in God. The three powers in question are memory (memoria), intelligence (intelligentia), and will (voluntas). The memory is a treasure-house of latent knowledge, whether it is innate or based on reasoning, sense perception or testimonies of others. The intelligence is the power that brings pieces of knowledge into the focus of actual attention. The distinction between memory and intelligence is the context for the analogy between the interior word and the Word. The human interior word is an act of intelligence born from a piece of knowledge in the memory, and in the same way the Word (the Son) is born from the Memory (the Father). According to this analogy, then, there is a verbum only when something – things (res) – known is actually uttered in the mind. Augustine declares that the interior words do not belong to any particular language and are the same for all people. He Mental Word/Concepts M 761 a description of how the forms are transmitted through the medium (e.g., air) to the organs of external senses (e.g., sight or hearing) and are received in these organs as sensible species (species sensibilis). The species received will be further processed by the internal senses – a group of cognitive faculties that Avicenna had described, including common sense, imagination, and (sensory) memory. One of the tasks of the internal senses is to store the sensory information as phantasms, which are sensory likenesses or representations of things. For Augustine or Anselm, a mental image of a man would count as a verbum. The Aristotelian model in De anima puts more stringent conditions on what qualifies as a concept. An image in the mind is a phantasm, and the phantasms are not concepts but the raw material for concepts. The phantasms are in the internal senses, which belong to the sensitive part of the soul, whereas the concepts are in its intellective part. The phantasms also differ from concepts in that they are about particular things, real or imagined, whereas concepts are universal. The internal senses make use of a material organ, whereas the intellect is immaterial. It was assumed that the material cannot affect the immaterial, and hence the emergence of concepts in the intellectual soul could not be explained in terms of plain reception. To circumvent this, M the Aristotelian model assumed a mechanism involving two intellectual powers, the active intellect and the possi- ble intellect. The same mechanism explained how the concepts are universal even though the phantasms are particular. The distinction between the active intellect and the possible intellect goes back to a not particularly clear passage in Aristotle’s De anima III, 5 (430a10–25). There had been considerable discussion about the nature and function of these two powers in the Greek and Arabic commenting tradition. For example, Avicenna held that the active intellect (or agent intellect) is a separate sub- stance from which the forms of the things emanate into the human soul when it has intellectual cognition. The usual thirteenth-century Latin position was to take both the possible intellect and the active intellect as powers within the individual human mind. What happens in concept formation is that the active intellect illuminates the phantasms in the internal senses and abstracts the intelligible content in them by stripping them of their accidental features. The universal forms thus abstracted will be imprinted in the possible intellect as intelligible species (species intelligibilis), and the intellect can then use them in intellectual operations. The preceding paragraphs describe the late thirteenth- century standard view about how the forms of the things basis of his nominalist ontology. Ockham rejected the idea that intellectual cognition requires the presence of the object’s form in the intellect, and he rejected the doctrine of species in its all forms, including intelligible species. In his mature thought, he also rejected the idea that concepts are objects of thought having merely objective or intentional existence. (Ockham referred to such objects as ficta. In earlier phases of his career, he considered the fictum-theory of concepts a genuine option.) For Ockham, concepts are acts of understanding. More precisely, concepts are abstractive acts of under- standing, as opposed to intuitive acts. An intuitive act of understanding is about a present particular object as existing, whereas the abstractive act of understanding does not require the presence of the object and is universal in the sense that it is applicable to many objects (say, to all the members of a species). In Ockham’s view, the human mind is so constructed that it is capable of forming con- cepts of the things it encounters under suitable conditions. When a person sees a horse for the first time, he or she will have an intuitive act of understanding about the particular horse as existing, and this intuitive act will automatically be followed by an abstractive act of understanding, which is applicable to all horses. Ontologically, concepts are qualities: they are states in which the intellect can be. In addition to concepts or abstractive acts of understanding, there are also habits related to them. These habits are also qualities in the intellect. In Ockham’s approach, there is a strong emphasis on the viewpoint of logic and semantics. He developed a theory of mental language, and concepts or mental words are among the basic units of that language: they are terms of the mental language. As terms of a language, the concepts are signs, and they have the kind of semantic properties that terms have. In fact, the concepts are the primary signs, and the words of spoken language signify because they are subordinated to concepts. Ockham maintains that this is what Aristotle had meant in the opening passage of De intepretatione. He also follows Aristotle in saying that concepts are likenesses of things, but he is not explicit about what kind of likenesses they are. that concepts or See also: ▶ Anselm of Canterbury ▶ Augustine ▶ Boethius ▶ Epistemology ▶ Intentionality ▶ Internal Senses ▶ Intuitive and Abstractive Cognition ▶ Mental Language ▶ Mental Representation ▶ Peter Abelard ▶ Peter John Olivi ▶ Sense Perception, Theories of ▶ Species, Sensible and Intelligible ▶ Terms, Properties of ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ William of Ockham Mereology M 763 Spruit L (1994) Species intelligibilis. From perception to knowledge. Brill, Leiden Tachau K (1988) Vision and certitude in the age of Ockham. Epistemol- Morin P. Vrin, Paris ogy and the foundations of semantics 1250–1345. Brill, Leiden FS. Opera omnia, Quaestiones Translatio Boethii, Mereology Desclée De Brouwer, ANDREW W. ARLIG Christianorum, Department of Philosophy Brooklyn College of The City University of New York Brooklyn, NY USA naturalibus, 2 vols, ed. Abstract This article is a survey of medieval treatments of parts and wholes. The first section covers the medieval taxonomy of parts and wholes. The second section examines some of De Wulf M et al. the ways that medieval philosophers distinguish one class de Philosophie, of parts and wholes from another class. The rest of the article focuses upon metaphysical issues concerning parts and wholes. The third section examines the common medieval supposition that the whole depends upon its Scholastica, parts and considers two ramifications of this supposition. M First, it seems that if the whole depends upon its parts, the whole cannot persist through changes in parts. Second, the fact that a whole depends upon its parts entails that God must be absolutely simple. The final section examines the question whether an integral whole is identical to its parts. of thought in medi- Introduction The concepts of part and whole are two of our most basic and prevalent concepts. We reason with these concepts all the time and in many different contexts. When we step back et saint Thomas. and reflect on the logical and metaphysical nature of parts à Guillaume d’Ock- and wholes, we are engaged in mereology. Critical reflec- tion on parts and wholes has a long history. (For a way into this history, see the survey by Burkhardt and Dufour (1991), the collection of essays edited by Mann and Varzi philosophical (2006), and Harte’s (2002) study of Plato.) Medieval phi- losophers used the concepts of part and whole liberally. But there is also a medieval tradition of mereology. medieval philo- Types of Parts and Wholes A theory of parts and wholes should tell us what items can Mittelalter. Vittorio be parts. Since something is a part only if it is a part of a whole, a mereology will tell us what items can be wholes. Essentially, the medieval answer is that a part is either anything that is the product of a division or anything q. 48, and III, q. 90, articles 1–3, respectively), and Ock- ham thinks that complex mental acts (such as ‘‘Every man is animal’’) are composed of parts (namely, ‘‘every,’’ ‘‘man,’’ ‘‘is,’’ and ‘‘animal’’) (Quaestiones in physicam q. 6 [Opera philosophica VI, 407–410]; In De int. I, prooemium, 6 [Opera philosophica II, 354–358]). This prompts later authors to distinguish between a number of types of integral part, including most often what we will call substantial parts (substantial form and matter), func- tional parts (such as fingers, skin, and hearts), and mate- rial parts (such as the stones that compose a pile or the geese that constitute a flock). There is some disagreement among medieval philoso- phers whether substantial parts are really integral parts. Aquinas, in some passages, suggests that substantial parts are a type of integral part (Summa theologiae I, q. 8, a. 2, ad 3; III, q. 90, a. 2). But Aquinas seems ambivalent about the integral, and status of form and matter, for in other passages he calls whole is matter and form ‘‘parts of an essence’’ and he distinguishes is a house. An these ‘‘parts of an essence’’ both from parts of a quantity And among integral and from parts of a potential whole (Summa theologiae I, parts – for q. 76, art. 8). If parts of a quantity are integral parts, then it – for seems that Aquinas is saying that form and matter are not wholes, (a) integral parts. Other philosophers take a less ambiguous – (b) some are position. They insist that only parts that constitute some and (c) some are quantity or other can be integral parts (Lambert of Auxerre Logica 126, Peter of Spain Tractatus V, 14:64; Walter Burley De toto et parte, 302; Albert of Saxony Sophismata 45, 25rb–26vb). These latter philosophers believe that substantial parts are a different species of part, not a type of integral part. Functional parts and material parts are generally accepted to be integral parts. They differ, however, with respect to their ontological status. Functional parts are defined by the role that they perform for the whole. This role, in turn, is defined by the form of the whole. For this reason, medieval philosophers sometimes call functional parts ‘‘parts secundum formam,’’ or parts with respect to the form (Walter Burley De toto et parte, 301). For exam- ple, this thing is a hand because it belongs to a thing that is imbued by the form of a human. It follows from this fact that if the form of the whole is removed, the part ceases to exist. This part of a corpse, even though it looks like a hand, is not a hand, for it no longer performs the functions of a hand. Some functional parts and some material parts are heterogeneous parts – that is, they are not divisible into parts belonging to the same type. For example, a hand is not divided into hands. But other functional parts and other material parts are homogeneous parts. Divide up a quantity of blood and you still have bits of blood; divide Mereology M 765 when I say that ‘‘humans as a whole are rational.’’ Likewise, the whole in a respect is the sense of ‘‘whole’’ found in such propositions as ‘‘the whole surface of the ball is white,’’ which means that every part of the ball’s surface is white. The whole with respect to place is the sense of ‘‘whole’’ that is found in such propositions as ‘‘Lucy is occupying the whole seat,’’ which means that every part of the seat is occupied by Lucy. And the whole with respect to time is the sense of ‘‘whole’’ that is found in such propositions as ‘‘God is present for the whole of time,’’ which means that God is present at every moment of time. It was recognized that the adjective ‘‘whole’’ has a distributive sense at least as early as the middle of the twelfth century (Henry 1985:66–68; Zupko 2003:152). In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, medieval logi- cians refined this understanding by distinguishing between two senses in which the adjective ‘‘whole’’ can be distributive. Consider two examples: ‘‘the whole human is rational’’ (totus homo est rationalis) should be interpreted as ‘‘the whole of human is rational.’’ That is, each human is rational. But when I say ‘‘Socrates as a whole’’ (Socrates totus) I am referring to Socrates in so far as he is composed of parts. These two senses of ‘‘whole’’ are labeled, respectively, the syncategorematic sense of ‘‘whole’’ and the categorematic sense of ‘‘whole’’ M (Kretzmann 1982). It is crucial to distinguish between these senses when considering a claim such as ‘‘the whole Socrates is less than Socrates’’ (Walter Burley De puritate artis logicae tractatus brevior 256.9–13; Albert of Saxony Sophismata 45, 24vb–25va). Differences Between the Different Types of Parts and Wholes According to medieval philosophers, at least some classes of parts and wholes are not reducible to other classes of parts and wholes. Medieval philosophers offer several ways of distinguishing between the various types of part. One method that medieval philosophers use is the predicative criterion (Boethius In Cic. top. 289.11–16; Abelard Dialectica 546.24–547.5; Buridan Summulae 8.1.4). According to this criterion, the mark of a subjective part is that its whole is entirely attributable to it. An integral whole, on the other hand, is not predi- cable in its entirety of its part. The integral whole can only be predicated of the parts when they are taken together all at once. For example, Socrates is a subjective part of the species Human Being. Hence, Socrates is a human being. Socrates’ hand is an integral part of Socrates. A hand is not Socrates. Socrates is only predicable of the hand, when the hand is taken together with all the other parts, so that this collection of parts (including the hand) is Socrates. Given that the parts compose the integral whole, it may seem that an integral whole depends upon its parts, whereas a universal whole does not require the existence of its subjective parts in order to exist. In his De divisione, Boethius uses differences of priority to distinguish between the genus and the whole (879b–c). The genus is prior to its species, whereas a whole is posterior to – that is, depends upon – its parts. In later treatments of parts and wholes, the universal whole – which Boethius lumps together with integral and potential wholes – is distin- essence and guished from the integral wholes by appealing to relations of priority. Often these relations of priority are encapsu- essence of y lated in the maxims associated with the various topics (loci). (On the medieval understanding of the topics see the total Green-Pedersen 1984 and Stump 1982.) For example, the in x taken maximal proposition that corresponds to the topic from the integral part is the following " If the integral part is removed, the integral whole is also removed. of In the next section, the reader will see that there is significant disagreement over how to interpret this maxi- mal proposition. When discussing these criteria for distinguishing between types of wholes and parts, many philosophers make no mention of potential wholes. Again, this may be because potential wholes are thought to be reducible to either integral wholes or universal wholes. Or it may be that the philosophers who propose these criteria for distinguishing between integral wholes and universal wholes do not think that potential wholes are true wholes. some quantity, For example, such a philosopher might think that the soul is mereologically simple (i.e., has no parts), and that mereological language, when applied to the soul, is figu- rative. The nature of the potential whole is not well under- stood. Much more research is needed in this area. can make an Dependence and Persistence One of the proposed hallmarks of an integral whole is that it is actually composed out of its parts. This thought naturally implies that the whole depends upon its parts for its existence. In On the Trinity Boethius tells us that the composite ‘‘gets its being from those things which com- pose it’’ (De trin. II). In one sense, this claim is not controversial, for in the case of a composite being, some parts are required to bring the composite into existence. Many medieval philosophers would also concede that in order for a composite to exist at some time, the right sort of parts must exist at that time. For example, in order for a human to exist at time t, there must be a substantial human form and the right sort of matter at t. Mereology M 767 If a form is independent of its matter, it can be the metaphysical glue that holds an object together as it changes material components. For example, Walter Burley draws a distinction between the whole secundum formam and the material whole. The formal whole persists so long as the form persists (De toto et parte, 301). Most common- one part is sense objects are identified with a whole secundum the formam, not a material whole. Hence, Socrates is not substantially compromised by material changes. However, there are a few medieval philosophers who argue that the removal of any part entails the removal of the whole. Peter Abelard insists that every integral whole is composed by a unique set of integral parts. This house must be composed out of these nails, these boards, and this cement (Dialectica 551.4–9). If I use other nails or other boards, I could make a house, but not this very house. Given that each whole is composed by a unique set of parts, if any part is removed, that whole is destroyed. Another whole similar to the original might exist after the mereological change takes place, but strictly speaking the two wholes are not identical (cf. Henry 1972:118–129, 1991:92–151; Arlig 2007). Buridan and Albert of Saxony also flirt with the notion that any mereological change brings about the destruction of the whole (Buridan Quaestiones in physicam I, q. 10; M Albert of Saxony Quaestiones in Aristotelis physicam I, q. 8; cf. King 1994; Pluta 2001). There are three senses of numerical sameness: there is a proper sense, a less proper sense, and an improper sense. Something is properly the same in number if all its parts remain the same and it on Boethius’ ‘‘De neither acquires nor loses any parts. In this strictest of senses, no corruptible thing persists through mereological change. Something is less properly the same in number if its ‘‘most principal part’’ remains numerically the same. This is the sense that allows us to claim that Socrates is numerically the same man now as that man ten years ago, since Socrates’ intellective soul persists through the change (Buridan In Metaphysicen VII, q. 12, 48va). Finally, some- thing is improperly the same in number if there is a continuous succession of beings that maintain a similar shape, disposition, and form. This improper mode of numerical sameness allows us to claim that the Nile River here today is numerically the same river as the Nile back in Caesar’s time. The reason why these philosophers flirt with an extreme notion of persistence is this: Albert claims that plants and animals can only be numerically the same in the third, improper sense, for these creatures do not have the sort of soul that can act as a guarantor of less proper identity (Quaes. in phys. I, q. 8:131). Oddly, Buridan does not discuss nonhuman substances. It may be that the substantial form of the horse is sufficient to philosophers typically take this to mean that God is not divisible in any respect. God is not a composite of hylomorphic parts, He is not a composite of subject and accident, He is not a composite of genus and differentia, and He is not a composite of being and essence. He is utterly noncomposite (Summa theologiae I q. 3, art. 7). The thesis that God is absolutely simple has interesting metaphysical and theological implications. For example, if God is absolutely simple then God cannot occupy space or time, since occupying space and time divides the occupant into parts (Anselm Monologion 21). God’s simplicity also entails that anything that is iden- tical to God’s essence is identical to the whole of God’s essence (Anselm Monologion 17; cf. Boethius De trin. IV). In particular, God is traditionally identified with the Good itself, Justice itself, and Being itself. But since God has no parts, the Good, Justice, and Being cannot be parts of God’s essence. Since identity is transitive, the Good is identical to Justice, Justice is identical to Being, and Being is identical to the Good. Many medieval philoso- phers are willing to accept and defend this odd result rather than deny that God is absolutely simple. Those who deny that God’s Goodness and Justice are identical do not in turn think that God has parts. Rather, they insist that names such as ‘‘Good’’ and ‘‘Just’’ do not name the essence of God. The best way to describe God’s essence is to say what God is not (Maimonides Guide I 58). In other words, the so-called negative way is motivated by an unwavering commitment to the absolute simplicity of God, which is in turn founded on the principle that a whole depends upon its parts. the spe- Identity and the Problem of the Many It is sometimes assumed that the extreme view of persis- tence espoused by Abelard and Albert of Saxony is founded on the principle that a whole is identical to the sum of its parts. If that were so, an easy way to avoid the conclusion that a change in parts entails a change in the whole would be to deny that the whole is ever identical to the sum of its parts (Brown 2005:esp. 150–155). An orthodox Aristotelian will readily assert that an integral whole is not always identical to its parts. Some integral wholes are weakly bound together. For example, a crowd is a very loose and weak unity: it is a combination of substances and an accidental form (Aquinas In Metaphys. expositio V, lectio 21, sections 1102–1104; Summa theologiae III, q. 90, art. 3, ad 3; Buridan Summulae 8.1.4–5). For this reason, its parts might be identical to the whole, and a removal of one part might compromise the existence of that whole. But a combination of a substantial form and matter yields Mereology M 769 Socrates’ whole body is imbued with the soul of a man. But it also happens that W is imbued with the soul of a man. So, there are now two numerically distinct men where it initially appeared there was one. But it gets worse. Considering the body apart from one finger was only one of an indefinite number of such considerations. And by the same reasoning, these other bracketed wholes composed from Socrates’ body are also men. Hence, it is easy to generate an indefinite number of numerically distinct men where commonsense tells us that there is only one. Most medieval philosophers who consider the Prob- lem of the Many reject the premise that while W is a part, W is a human. If W is a part of a per se being (i.e., an Aristotelian primary substance), then W itself cannot be a per se being. There cannot be many per se beings occu- pying the same location at the same time. Therefore, there are not innumerably many men. There is only one man consisting of innumerably many parts (Albert of Saxony Sophismata 46, 25vb). Even Abelard resolves the Problem of the Many in roughly this manner. If x and y are the same in being, then x and y are numerically the same. But, according to Abelard, it does not follow that if x and y are different in being, x and y are numerically distinct. This is because if M even one part is not shared by x and y, x and y are different in being, but in order to be numerically distinct, x and y cannot share any parts. This characterization of numerical sameness and difference leaves logical space for overlapping objects, which are neither numerically the same nor numerically distinct. Thus, according to Abelard it is true that W is not numerically the same as Socrates. But it does not follow from this fact that W is numerically distinct from Socrates. Hence, there is not an indefinite number of numerically different men. But if one asks Abelard to pinpoint which of these overlapping men is Socrates, Abelard might reply that Socrates is that sum of parts that is vivified by Socrates’ soul (Theologia Christiana III, } 153). In other words, Socrates is to be identified with the maximal sum of integral parts that is vivified by Socrates’ soul. Conclusion Medieval philosophers have a sophisticated understand- ing of parts and wholes, and they make use of these mereological principles when reflecting on metaphysical questions concerning persistence, dependence, and iden- tity. Some of these reflections, as the reader has seen, are of the first rank. Students of logic and metaphysics should be richly rewarded if they continue to explore this important body of work. Boethius (1998) De divisione liber: Critical edition, translation, prole- gomena, and commentary (ed and trans: Magee J). E. J. Brill, Leiden and Matter Boethius (2000) De trinitate. In: Moreschini C (ed) De consolatione philosophiae/Opscula theologica. Saur, Munich and Leipzig Brito Radulphus (1978) In: Green-Pedersen NJ (ed) Commentary on Boethius’ De differentiis topicis; Cahiers du l’Institut du Moyen- age Grec et Latin 26:1–92 Buridan John (1509) Quaestiones super octo libros physicorum libros Aristotelis. Paris. (Repr. Minerva, Frankfurt a. M., 1968) Buridan John (1518) In Metaphysicen Aristotelis quaestiones. Paris. (Repr. Minerva, Frankfurt a. M, 1964) Buridan John (2001) Summulae de dialectica. In: Hubien H (ed) Unpublished MSS (English trans: Klima G). Yale University Press, pt 1: Glossae super New Haven Burley Walter (1955) In: Boehner Ph (ed) De puritate artis logicae 1: die Glossen zu Porphyrius. tractatus longior, with a revised edition of the Tractatus Brevior. des Mittelalters, vol 21, pt 1. The Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure Burley Walter (1966) In: Shapiro H, Scott F (eds) De toto et parte; pt 2: Glossae super Archives d’Histoire doctrinale et Litteraire du Moyen Age 33:299–303 ‘Ingredientibus’. 2: die Jungius Joachim (1957) In: Meyer RW (ed) Logica Hambergensis [1638]. Geschichte der Philosophie J. J. Augustin, Hamburg Buchhandlung, Münster Lambert of Auxerre (1971) In: Alessio F (ed) Logica (Summa Lamberti). sociorum’: glossula La Nuova Italia Editrice, Firenze Abaelards Philosophische Maimonides (1963) The guide of the perplexed (trans: Pines S). Univer- sociorum: die Glossen sity of Chicago Press, Chicago Peter of Spain (1972) In: de Rijk LM (ed) Tractatus [=Summule logicales]. Van Gorcum and Company, Assen Pseudo-Joscelin (1836) De generibus et speciebus. In: King P (ed) In: Dal Pra M (ed) Scritti (forthcoming); Older editions can be found in King Peter (1982) Peter Abailard and the problem of universals, 2 vols, Buytaert EM (ed) Corpus unpublished PhD dissertation, Princeton University, vol 2, pp 143– 12. Brepols, Turnhout 185; Cousin V (ed) Ouvrages inedits d’Abélard. Imprimerie Royale, Paris, pp 507–550 William of Ockham (1974–1988) In: Boehner Ph et al (eds) Opera philosophica, 7 vols. Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure et quaestiones in attributae, vol II: Secondary Sources Arlig A (2005) A study in early medieval mereology: Boethius, Abelard, Nielsen LO (eds) Com- and Pseudo-Joscelin. PhD dissertation, The Ohio State University du Moyen-age Arlig A (2007) Abelard’s assault on everyday objects. Am Cathol Philos Quart 81:209–227 Brower J (2004) Trinity. In: Brower J, Guilfoy K (eds) The Cambridge companion to Abelard. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, pp 223–257 Brown C (2005) Aquinas and the ship of Theseus: solving puzzles about material objects. Continuum, London/New York 4–12, Leonine edn. Vatican Burkhardt H, Dufour CA (1991) Part/whole I: history. In: Burkhardt H, Smith B (eds) Handbook of metaphysics and ontology, vol 2, L–Z. de anima. Pontifical Insti- Philosophia, Munich, pp 663–673 Freddoso A (1978) Abailard on collective realism. J Philos 75:527–538 In duodecim libros Geach PT (1980) Reference and generality, 3rd edn. Cornell University edn. Marietti, Turin/ Press, Ithaca Green-Pedersen NJ (1984) The tradition of the topics in the Middle Ages: In: Orelli JC (ed) the commentaries on Aristotle’s and Boethius’ topics. Philosophia, Munich/Vienna Nikitas DZ (ed) De topicis Harte V (2002) Plato on parts and wholes. Clarendon, Oxford dieses Werkes: Anhang, Henry DP (1972) Medieval logic and metaphysics. Hutchinson, London Henry DP (1984) That most subtle question (Quaestio subtilissima): the metaphysical bearing of medieval and contemporary linguistic dis- ciplines. Manchester University Press, Manchester Metaphysics M 771 Aristotle claimed that metaphysics is the study of being dedicated to L. M. De in so far as it is being (chap. 1), but given that all beings ultimately depend upon substance for their existence, metaphysics is primarily a study of substance (chap. 2). In: Gracia JE (ed) Finally, in book VI (Ε), Aristotle itemized the subject Ages and the coun- matters of the three theoretical sciences, which are marked pp 397–430 off from the practical and productive sciences in virtue of (eds) The Cambridge Cambridge, the fact that the former are pursued for their own sake. The theoretical sciences are divided into natural science (‘‘physics’’), mathematics, and the ‘‘divine’’ science, or theology. Physics considered things insofar as they are pp 211–245 changeable and inseparable from matter. Mathematics and wholes. J Philos considered things, which are actually inseparable from matter, in abstraction from their matter and from change. Theology, however, considered things that exist separately from matter and are not subject to change. Aristotle noted into conse- that, if there were only natural things, physics would be the history of later Cambridge, first philosophical science. But given that there are eternal, immaterial substances, there must be a higher science that studies these. Hence, metaphysics comes after the study of physics. For the Aristotelian, one does not have complete knowledge of a science until one knows the causes and principles of the subjects of that science. In this sense, metaphysics is prior to physics. For these reasons, meta- physics is the first philosophical science. M While medieval philosophers were more than happy to parrot these Aristotelian formulae, there was considerable debate over the proper ‘‘subject’’ of metaphysics. For it is one thing to consider the x’s in a science, it is another matter for the science to have the x’s as its primary object of study. For example, one may have to consider substance in physics, but substance as such is not the subject matter of physics. The Subject Matter of Metaphysics The tradition that medieval thinkers received presented them with three plausible candidates for the subject matter of metaphysics: being as such (which included the study of the first principles and causes of beings), substance, and God. In practice, it seems that the main struggle was between the conception of metaphysics as the study of being qua being, which was associated with Avicenna, and the conception of metaphysics as the study of eternal substances, which was often attributed to Averroes. Duns Scotus, like many of his contemporaries, sided with Avicenna. Avicenna’s understanding of the subject matter of metaphysics was not without precedent (com- pare al-Fārābı̄, The Aims of Aristotle’s Metaphysics, in McGinnis and Reisman 2007:78–81, but see Fakhry 1984). But it was Avicenna’s particular formulation of the claim that metaphysics is the study of being inasmuch but this can only happen insofar as their existence has been revealed to humans in a nonphilosophical way. Hence, Aquinas draws a distinction between philosophical theol- ogy (metaphysics) and revealed theology (‘‘sacred doc- trine’’) (In De trinitate q. 5, a. 4; cf. Wippel 2000:17–18). Aquinas thought that philosophical theology was a part of, and indeed, the culmination of philosophy. Revealed the- ology studied God and divine things as its proper subject, but its basis must be handed down in Holy Scripture. Since sacred doctrine is known by something that is supe- rior to the natural light of reason, it is superior to meta- physics (cf. Summa theologiae I, q., a. 1). cannot Being and Its Necessary Concomitants Start with the notion that metaphysics is the study of being qua being. There are at least two components to the study of beings, namely, determining how or the manner in which a being exists and determining what that being is. We will return to the former after a few sections touching upon the latter. In the broadest terms, we determine what something is by locating it among the types of beings. This avenue leads to the discussion of the categories (see next section). But it was also felt that there were some properties of a being, which are predicable of that being merely because it is a being. The most common among these ‘‘transcenden- tals’’ – so named because these predicates applied across the categories and, in some sense, were prior to the differ- entiation of being into one of the general kinds of being – were ‘‘good’’ (bonum), ‘‘one’’ (unum), and ‘‘true’’ (verum). But there were several other candidates for transcendentals mentioned in the literature. Saint Bonaventure, for exam- ple, added ‘‘beauty’’ (pulchrum), and Aquinas added ‘‘thing’’ (res) and ‘‘something’’ (aliquid). The medieval discussion of the transcendentals is by and large confined to the Latin Scholastic period, but there were some notable predecessors among the Arabs and in the writings of Boethius (see, especially, his Quomodo substantiae). (For an overview of the study of transcen- dentals, see Gracia 1992, and the other articles in Topoi, vol 11, pt 2.) No Scholastic philosopher assumed prima facie that the discussion of the transcendentals was merely a discussion about the status of words or concepts, and in general’’ many assumed that the transcendentals had some sort of ontological status. The transcendentals were widely believed to be ‘‘con- vertible’’ – that is, x is one only insofar as x is true, and only insofar as x is good, and only insofar as x is a being. It was a matter of debate whether the transcendentals were merely co-extensional, or whether they were in reality one and the same thing (idem secundum rem). Metaphysics M 773 To many of his contemporaries, Scotus seemed to be asserting that being was a genus and, even worse, denying the transcendence of God. It seems that Scotus did not fully convince even his own followers, for they tended to divide into those who accepted that there was some sort of real community between God and creatures and those who thought that the unity of the concept of being that was applicable to both God and creatures was merely logical and not real (Dumont 1992:140–146). The Categories A being insofar as it is a being has a number of necessary concomitant properties. But this being will also belong to one of the kinds of being. First of all, it will either be a substance or an accident – that is, a dependent property of a substance. If it is an accident, it will fall under one of the nine classes of accidents that Aristotle laid out in his Categories. The Categories traditionally stands at the beginning of Aristotle’s Organon, or logical corpus. Considered as a logical work, the Categories appears to be about the nature and classification of simple terms. Nevertheless, almost from the beginning, interpreters wondered whether the Categories was about more than the study of simple terms. Scattered remarks in the Categories as well as M other parts of Aristotle’s corpus implied that beings were divided into the ten basic categories. It is natural, then, that medieval philosophers would be tempted to read the Categories as a treatise about the classification of beings. As soon as one takes the Categories to be about the classification of beings, a number of issues quickly arise. First, it appears that Aristotle is committed to the exis- tence of universal things, and not merely universal terms (see below). Second, one might wonder whether each category term picks out a discrete, nonoverlapping collec- tion of entities. (For example, do ‘‘Substance’’ and ‘‘Quan- tity’’ pick out distinct sets of things?) Third, there is the question whether the ten categories exhaust the basic kinds of beings. Medieval philosophers answered the second and third of these questions in a variety of ways. Many medieval philosophers thought that there were exactly ten catego- ries and that these categories uniquely picked out nonoverlapping classes of beings. Some even thought that they could ‘‘prove’’ that there were exactly ten cate- gories (Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas, the later Walter Burley). John Duns Scotus expressed skepticism about the possibility of proving the sufficiency of the categories, although he believed that there were ten and only ten categories and that each of these categories corresponded to a class of things. Cat. 183D–184B). In his treatise on the Trinity, Boethius endorsed Saint Augustine’s assertion that God is ‘‘beyond substance’’ (ultra substantiam) (De trin. IV). Grades and Modes of Existence A being not only has properties and (with some excep- tions) belongs to one of the ten greatest kinds, it also, and most importantly, has existence (esse). Medieval philoso- phers have a rich understanding of the nature of existence and its interplay with the features that make a being what it is (i.e., the being’s essence). We can only mention some of the general features of this rich tradition. Many medieval thinkers felt the need to distinguish between the mode of existence that a concrete individual has and the mode of existence that this individual’s con- stituents and ingredients has. One motivation seems to be this. If the constituents of an individual possessed the same mode of existence as the individual itself, then these constituents would exist in their own right – that is, they would be per se beings. But Aristotle claimed that no substance is composed of substances, which many medieval philosophers interpreted as the claim that no per se being is a composite of actual per se beings. A per se being is something that is truly one and capable of independent existence. But how could something be inde- pendent and truly one if its parts themselves are also independent and truly one? It appeared, then, that if x is composed of per se beings, then x is merely one in a weaker or accidental sense – it is an aggregate of substances, not itself a substance. One strategy was to distinguish between actual exis- tence and potential existence. A human body is made out of the four elements, but when the human body actually exists, these ingredients only potentially exist in the body. They exist in potentiality, since upon death the body is resolved back into the four elements. Hence, in one sense, the elements are not parts of the body. But some of the items that play a role in the creation of an individual must continue to be present in the individ- ual, when the individual exists. In particular, the nature or essence of the individual must exist in the individual when it exists. Otherwise, the individual would not be what it essentially is. One strategy, which is very old, is to distin- guish between the mode of existence that the nature has in itself and the mode that it has in the material world. Boethius, for example, claimed that natures in themselves merely ‘‘subsist,’’ whereas concrete instances of the nature ‘‘substand.’’ It is only when something substands that it can be the subject for accidental properties – that is, to be an individual, material substance. The details of Boethius’ theory are a bit obscure, but it appears that he was Metaphysics M 775 believed that there were no properties or abstract objects (a position that is nowadays occasionally associated with the term ‘‘nominalism’’). Some realists argued that universals were things that literally were a part of an individual composite thing. The version prevalent in the later eleventh and early part of the twelfth centuries has been called ‘‘material essence’’ real- ism (Tweedale 1976:95–111). Peter Abelard attributes such a view to his master William of Champaeux and, as Abelard reports matters, he publicly demolished the view early on in his career (see Log. Ingr. I, 10–13 [Spade 1994:29–33]). Whether Abelard personally brought an end to material essence realism is not absolutely certain. What is clear is that no thirteenth-century philosopher of note embraced material essence realism. However, a more sophisticated version of material essence realism seems to be the considered later position of Walter Burley and his followers. The most popular versions of realism in the Scholastic Period were forms of what scholars describe as ‘‘moderate realism.’’ Moderate realists argued that a nature or essence is only really universal when it is in the mind. In the mind- independent world, the nature is somehow individualized, so that the nature that is in Socrates is not numerically the same as the nature in Plato. M Like Abelard before him, William of Ockham embarked on a systematic attack of all the forms of realism current in his day. He concluded from this exercise that universals had no reality outside of the mind. Peter Abelard, William of Ockham, and other nomi- nalists tended to point out the metaphysical difficulties that plagued the various forms of realism. They proposed instead that all things are fundamentally particular. Universality is restricted to the realm of concepts or lan- guage. But while realists were plagued by metaphysical difficulties – especially difficulties that centered around identity and difference – the nominalists were plagued by epistemological difficulties. Predicating a universal of an individual can only be legitimate if there is some real basis for the predication. Otherwise, as Boethius famously pointed out, predications are ‘‘empty’’ – that is, they convey nothing truthful about reality as such. But by banishing universals to the realm of the mind and lan- guage, the nominalists appeared to undermine the foun- dations of science. Nominalism and Ontological Reduction The nominalists’ denial that universals are things and Ockham’s reduction of the categories to substance and quality were both attempts to reduce the number of types of things. (Although it should be noted that the aside to his discussions of the Trinity and the Incarnation. Other philosophers considered individuation in the con- text of the problem of individuating angels (e.g., Duns Scotus, Ord. II, d. 3, part 1). Razor’’). But Ock- In his On the Trinity, Boethius attempted to demon- strate that the Persons of the Trinity are not numerically distinct from one another (De trin. I). Boethius proposed that numerical distinctness is brought about by the inher- ence of accidents in a substance. Given that God has no accidents, and given that each of the Persons is God, it cannot be the case that the Persons are numerically dis- tinct from one another. The idea that accidental forms, either the whole set of them or some subset of them (such as spatiotemporal properties), make some thing an individual became part of what one scholar has called ‘‘the Standard Theory of Individuality’’ (Gracia 1984, 1994:26–28). According to the Standard Theory, (1) individuality is conceived in terms of difference or distinction, (2) the extension of the term ‘‘individual’’ is restricted to Aristotelian primary substances, and (3) the principle of individuation is either due to one or more accidents or to the collection of all properties (including non-accidental ones) belonging to the substance. The Standard Theory dominated much of the thinking of the early Middle Ages, although there were some notable exceptions, such as Peter Abelard and Gil- bert of Poitiers. Other medieval thinkers looked for the principle of individuation in either a substantial or a non-categorial component of individuals. A common candidate for a principle of individuation was the individual’s matter. This theory is commonly associated with Aquinas (although see Father Owen’s addendum in Gracia between individual 1994:188). In the same vein, some medieval thinkers pro- posed that the matter together with the substantial form of the individual was the principle of individuation. A notable proponent of this view was Bonaventure (Gracia 1994:141–172). Sometimes the substantial form alone was considered to be the principle of individuation. For this solution to work, the form itself would have to already be individual. One intriguing version of the notion that an individual- ized substantial form is the principle of individuation was hinted at by a remark in Boethius’ greater commentary on De interpretatione (in De int. 2nd edn., II, 137.3–137.16). but many There Boethius suggested that Socrates is individuated by a personal form, his ‘‘Socrateity.’’ It is not clear what the status of these personal forms is or whether Boethius really thought that these forms were the metaphysical cause of individuality, but it was interpreted this way by some later medieval thinkers. Metaphysics M 777 not imply that an artifact is identical in every respect to the sum of its parts. An artifact and the parts that compose it are the ‘‘same in essentia and in number,’’ but they are ‘‘distinct in property,’’ because there is something true of the latter, which is not true of the former, and vice versa (cf. Theologia Christiana III, } 140:247–248; King 2004:89–92). There were also differences of opinion about the rela- tion of a substance to its substantial parts. Some thought that a material substance is not a sum of two actual, ontologically independent objects (Aquinas In Metaphys. VII, lec. 13, n. 1588; cf. Normore 2006:740–741). Yet, others believed that the substantial form and the matter were in some sense independent things, and hence, they had to determine whether the composite is identical to the sum of these two things. Those who answered in the affirmative were in effect offering a reductionistic account of material substance; those who answered in the negative were antireductionists. Antireductionists, such as Duns Scotus, asserted that a numerically distinct object comes to be when the substantial form combines with matter (Cross 1995). Otherwise, he argued, material sub- stances would be nothing more than aggregates or acci- dental unities. Ockham and Buridan thought that the material substance is nothing more than the sum of its M substantial parts, but that this reductionistic account of material substance did not imply that substances are aggregates or accidental unities (Normore 2006:744–747). In more general terms, medieval philosophers felt that there were some items that were numerically or really the same thing, yet not entirely identical. This led to an explo- sion of senses of the terms ‘‘same’’ (idem) and ‘‘different’’ (differens, or diversum) (the preferred terms for medieval discussions of identity). Many of these senses of sameness and difference corresponded to distinctions in the order of things. Hence, Duns Scotus’ famous ‘‘formal’’ and ‘‘modal’’ distinctions were both in the broad sense, real distinctions, even though he reserved the term ‘‘real’’ for a case where x and y could, at least in principle, exist separately in reality. The formal and modal distinctions had a number of applications in philosophy and theology. The formal dis- tinction was employed to explain how the essence in itself and the essence in Socrates were related to one another. The modal distinction had applications in Trinitarian theology. Indeed, the utility of these nonconceptual modes of distinction in theological applications was the primary reason that even ardent critics of the formal and modal distinction, such as Ockham, often conceded that the distinction was useful when trying to come up with a rational account of the Trinity. One prevalent conception of modality was closely aligned to a qualified commitment to the so-called Prin- ciple of Plenitude – that is, that no real possibility remains unactualized. Medieval thinkers qualified their assump- tion of the Principle because it was felt that an unrestricted version of the Principle would constrain God’s power and will. Nonetheless, in the natural order of things, it was often assumed that the Principle held. If A is a real possi- bility, then there was, is, or will be some time at which A is true. On this conception of modality, modal notions were effectively reduced to extensional terms that were merely means of classifying what happens in the one and only world at different moments of time (Knuuttila 1981:169). A is possible if and only if there is some time at which A obtains. A is impossible if and only if A never obtains. A is necessary if and only if A always obtains. While prevalent, especially in the thirteenth century, this ‘‘statistical’’ model of possibility and necessity was not the only model countenanced by medieval thinkers. Anselm, for example, developed a conception of possibil- ity based upon inherent capacity; necessity properly sig- nified external constraint (Serene 1981). There are some passages in Abelard, which suggest that he did not whole- heartedly embrace the statistical model (cf. Log. ingr. II, 272–274). Abelard’s followers, the so-called nominales, seem to have consciously rejected the statistical model. Duns Scotus was deeply critical of the statistical model of modality, and in its place, he developed a ‘‘synchronic’’ principal part’’ model of modality. On the statistical model, it was hard to avoid the consequence that every present thing or state-of- affairs was necessary. This followed from the fact that actualizing a potentiality takes time. If a is actually F at t, then in order to make it so that a is not F, a’s potentiality to become not F must be actualized. But if a potentiality takes time to actualize, it follows that given that a is F at t, a cannot be not F at t. Scotus, on the other hand, argued that even though a is actually F at t, a could be not F at t. Scotus’ position was not without precedent. The twelfth-century philosopher Gilbert of Poitiers, for exam- ple, also thought that there were synchronic alternative possibilities (Knuuttila 1993:75–82). Yet, Scotus presented a distinctively sophisticated articulation and forceful defense of the doctrine of that the present could have been different than it in fact is. His synchronic picture of modal- ity had a tremendous influence on the development of theories of modality in the fourteenth century and onward. Scotus is sometimes credited with anticipating the notion of a possible world, either in the sense that Leibniz had or in the late-twentieth-century sense of the notion. While Scotus does not use the term ‘‘possible world’’ or any equivalent, he does defend the idea that God considers Metaphysics M 779 that medieval philosophers had nothing to contribute to the study of these topics. It should also be emphasized that many medieval treatments of what we now consider to be metaphysical subjects can be found in not only the physical treatises but also in logic and doctrinal discussions (such as treatments of the Eucharist and the Trinity). per- See also: ▶ Boethius ▶ Bonaventure ▶ Categories ▶ Form of and Matter ▶ Future Contingents ▶ Henry of Ghent ▶ Ibn Rushd, Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Hafı̄d (Averroes) ˙ ˙ ˙ ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ (Avicenna) ▶ John Duns Scotus however, ▶ Mereology ▶ Natural Philosophy ▶ Peter Abelard ▶ Peter John Olivi ▶ Platonism ▶ Proofs of the Existence of God ▶ Realism ▶ Substance, Accident and Mode ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ Time ▶ Trinity ▶ Universals Bibliography Below is a very limited bibliography. For further resources, the reader should consult the bibliographies both in the secondary sources, many of which were selected because they are good entry points into a vast liter- ature, and in cross-referenced Encyclopedia articles. Primary Sources Abelard Peter (1919) Logica ‘ingredientibus’, pt. 1: Glossae super Porphyrium. In: Geyer B (ed) Peter Abaelards Philosophische Schriften. I. Die Logica ‘Ingredientibus. 1: die Glossen zu Porphyrius. Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters 21, pt 1. Aschendorffshen Buchhandlung, Münster M Abelard Peter (1921) Logica ‘ingredientibus’, pt. 2: Glossae super Praedicamenta Aristotelis. In: Geyer B (ed) Peter Abaelards Philosophische Schriften. I. Die Logica ‘Ingredientibus’. 2: die Glossen zu den Kategorien, Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie des Mittelalters 21, pt 2. Aschendorffshen Buchhandlung, Münster Abelard Peter (1969) Theologia Christiana. In: Buytaert EM (ed) Petri Abaelardi Opera theologica II. Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Mediaevalis 12. Brepols, Turnhout Abelard Peter (1987) Theologia ‘‘Scholarium.’’ In: Buytaert EM, Mews CJ (eds) Petri Abaelardi Opera theologica III. Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Mediaevalis 13. Brepols, Turnhout Anselm (1946) In: Schmidt FS (ed) Opera Omnia. Thomas Nelson, Edinburgh Aquinas Thomas (1971) In: Cathala M-R, Spiazzi RM (eds) In duodecim libros metaphysicorum Aristotelis expositio, 2nd edn. Marietti, Turin/Rome. English translation: Aquinas Thomas (1961) Commen- tary on the metaphysics of Aristotle (trans: Rowan JP), 2 vols. Henry Regnery, Chicago Aquinas Thomas (1882) Opera omnia. Iussu impensaque LeonisXIII, P. M. edita, Leonine edition. Vatican Polyglot Press, Vatican Averroes (1562–1574) Latin translations of his commentaries in Aristotelis Opera cum Averrois commentariis, apud Junctas, Venice (repr. Minerva, Frankfurt a.Main, 1962) Averroes (1938–1952) In: Bouyges M (ed) Tafsir ma ba‘d at-tabi‘iyat, 3 vols. Imprimerie Catholique, Beirut. English translation of the commentary on Book XII (L): Genequand Charles (1986) Ibn Rushd’s metaphysics: a translation with introduction of Averroes’s commentary on Aristotle’s metaphysics, Book Lam. Brill, Leiden Avicenna (1977/1980) In: Van Riet S (ed) Liber de philosophia prima sive scientia divina (Latin translation of the metaphysics of ‘‘the healing’’), 2 vols. Peeters/Brill, Louvain/Leiden The metaphysics of ‘‘the Knuuttila S (1981) Time and modality in Scholasticism. In Knuuttila translation). Brigham Young Uni- S (ed) Reforging the great chain of being: studies of the history of modal theories. Reidel, Dordrecht/Boston, pp 163–257 Knuuttila S (1993) Modalities in medieval philosophy. Routledge, London quatuor, In: Migne JP et al Normore C (1985) Buridan’s ontology. In: Bogen J, McGuire JF (eds) How series latina, vol 64. things are: studies in predication and the history of philosophy and science. Reidel, Dordrecht/Boston, pp 189–203 divisione liber: critical Normore C (2003) Duns Scotus’s modal theory. In: Williams T (ed) The commentary. Brill, Leiden Cambridge companion to Duns Scotus. Cambridge University Press, philosophiae/ Cambridge, pp 129–160 Normore C (2006) Ockham’s metaphysics of parts. J Philos 103:737–754 quaestiones. Paris. (repr. Pini G (2005) Scotus’s realist conception of the categories: his legacy to the late medieval debates. Vivarium 43:63–110 In: Cantin A (ed and trans) Serene E (1981) Anselm’s modal conceptions. In: Knuuttila S (ed) Chrétiennes 191. Les Reforging the great chain of being: studies of the history of modal theories. Reidel, Dordrecht/Boston, pp 117–162 In: Wolter AB (ed Spade PV (1999) Ockham’s nominalist metaphysics: some main themes. Franciscan Herald In: Spade PV (ed) The Cambridge companion to Ockham. Cam- bridge University Press, Cambridge, pp 100–117 Tweedale M (1976) Abailard on universals. North-Holland, Amsterdam Wippel JF (2000) The metaphysical thought of Thomas Aquinas: from finite being to uncreated being. Catholic University of America Press, Scoti Opera philosophica, Washington Press, Washington (2007) Classical Arabic Indianapolis on the mediaeval problem of et al (eds) Opera theologica. Metaphysics, Byzantine et al (eds) Opera philosophica. JOHN A. DEMETRACOPOULOS Department of Education University of Patras Patras Greece account of material and Scotists (Topos: the JJE (ed)). Topoi Abstract There is no agreement on whether metaphysics proper did Aristotle and Ibn exist in Byzantium or, if so, in what it consists. Religion theology and philos- and theology covered officially the realm previously occu- State University of New pied by philosophy. Still, some room was available for of individuation in the discussing some special questions, the principal among them being the ontological status of ‘‘universals,’’ the Middle Ages: an introduc- structure of the divine being and the way the sensible Middle Ages, Gracia JJE (ed)). beings derive their existence and qualities from the first principle. Many Byzantines from the eleventh to fifteenth the later Middle State University of centuries, posing themselves in the Platonic tradition, seem to elaborate Ammonius’ doctrine of ‘‘universals,’’ whereas few subscribed to a less ‘‘realist’’ theory. An extra-realist theory was propounded in the first half of the Middle Ages. Theoria the fourteenth century by Gregory Palamas, who projected K (eds) The Cambridge the multiplicity of the created beings to an inferior divine level, that is, to God’s ‘‘energies’’ construed as naturally emanating from God’s transcendental ‘‘essence.’’ Palamites Metaphysics, Byzantine M 781 commentaries on Aristotle, works by Jewish authors, Neo- platonic texts), which provoked Christians to deal with them as well as with the way other Christians were dealing with them. Byzantium, on the contrary, exhibits strong marks of continuity with the intellectual life of Late Antiq- uity (even though, admittedly, not with its highest figures), and the development of its own intellectual life enjoyed a relative stability, which was nominally and positively called ‘‘tradition’’ and usually resulted in repetition. Further, most of the Greek Fathers of the Church, whose thought was normative for most of the Byzantine intellectuals, though well acquainted with most aspects of Middle Platonism and some strands of Neoplatonism, had ‘‘investigation a predilection for the ‘‘apophatic’’ aspect of these trends. And, in contrast with them, where this aspect acquired metaphysical sense in terms of its being the result of a philosophical investigation where ‘‘reason’’ normally played a central role (though tending to show a way of superseding itself), Greek Patristic thought integrated apophaticism into the context of the Christian belief in the Biblical God whose personal way of act cut off any possibility of constructing a metaphysical concept of Him. Notwithstanding this discouraging context, however, it, was substituted some texts of Byzantine philosophy do testify to the raise M (apokalypsis) and, of some specific metaphysical questions, whose funda- mental character (philosophy or theology?) still remains to be patiently detected and soberly assessed. kept for the Special Topics of Byzantine Metaphysics The Ontological Status of ‘‘Universals’’ Byzantines inherited from the opening paragraph of a famous text of Late Antiquity, Porphyry’s Isagoge (late third century), and from the ancient Greek Neoplatonic commentaries on it (by Ammonius, Elias, and David; fifth to sixth centuries) as well as on Aristotle’s Categories (by John Philoponus; sixth century) and from the Prolegom- ena (by Olympiodorus; sixth century), a question that later on proved of paramount importance for many phi- losophers in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth cen- turies in Europe, that is, the question of the ontological status of the ‘‘universals.’’ Do ‘‘universals’’ exist in extramental reality or are they just concepts (epinoiai) in our minds? And, if the former, are they corporeal or incorporeal? And, if the latter, do they exist independently from the sensible beings or just inhere in them? In the ninth century, when Byzantine philosophy proper begins, Photios, Patriarch of Constantinople, subscribes to a conceptualist stand, which is very close to (if not iden- tical with) the Stoic doctrine, by explicitly stating that the (Amphilochia, 77). revival of Platonism (second half of thirteenth century to middle fifteenth century), Ammonius’ doctrine of ‘‘uni- as well as the versals’’ as existing ‘‘before the many,’’ ‘‘in the many,’’ and ‘‘after the many’’ was typical, even though thinkers like for the identity of Nikephoros Blemmydes, George Pachymeres (fourteenth century), Theodore Metochites (thirteenth to fourteenth omnipotence, con- centuries), Nikephoros Gregoras, Barlaam of Calabria, and Gregory Palamas (fourteenth century) added each of their own epistemological nuances. independently The Structure of the Divine Being A question closely connected with that of the ‘‘universals’’ from the theo- was how to explain the production of a multiplicity by the highest level of unity, which is God. Most of the above- mentioned thinkers placed the ‘‘universals before the many’’ in God’s mind (an idea traced back to Middle Platonism, if not to ancient Stoicism). This solution, how- ever, explains the multiplicity of the created beings away just by transposing multiplicity to the realm of God. In the first half of the fourteenth century (either in connection with the history of the Byzantine treatments of the ques- tion of the ‘‘universals’’ or not), Gregory Palamas, a monastic figure well trained in ancient Greek philoso- phy, formulated (probably inspired by Proclus) a peculiar doctrine of God as consisting of two levels, that is, essence (ousia), which is absolutely simple and totally unknown, and His eternal ‘‘energy’’ (energeia), which is participated by the created beings, the difference between these levels on some strictly being not only more real than the merely conceptual rank of a logical relation but also no less than ‘‘infinite’’ (Triads III, 2, 8). Arguing that these levels are discernible not only in God but in every being, as well as that for all the real difference between these levels, God’s being is nevertheless ‘‘one,’’ Palamas believed that his doctrine did not clash on the ‘‘uni- with God’s simplicity. He also distinguished between the various ‘‘acts’’ themselves and identified God’s ‘‘eternal but also Aristotle’s imma- and without beginning acts’’ with the ‘‘reasons of beings,’’ which preexist eternally in God’s mind and according to which the world was created (Triads III, 2, 24). Palamas’ opponents, such as Gregoras, who was inspired by Christian and pagan Neoplatonism, as well as John Kyparissiotes, Demetrios Kydones, Prochoros Kydones, and Manuel Kalekas, who were inspired by Thomas Aquinas and Boethius, too, rejected any sort of distinctio realis in God. Palamas’ adherents, such as Neilos Kabasilas, Philotheos Kokkinos, Theophanes of Nicaea (second half of fourteenth century), and Markos Eugenikos (first half of fifteenth century), restated Palamas’ doctrine by describing his distinctions as drawn by the human mind (kat’ epinoian), that is as not implying any sort of Metaphysics, Byzantine M 783 ‘‘energy.’’ And ‘‘efficacious’’ (energon) and bringing about its proximate being. Scholarios, for his own part, replied by setting forth Aquinas’ doctrine of causa remota and causae proximae, each of the latter ones being directly dependent on the former and producing not beings, as in Plethon’s system, but just effects in virtue of their nature as created and ‘‘predestinated’’ by God. To Scholarios, Aristotle’s metaphysics of ‘‘forms’’ fitted better with Christianity, because of Aristotle’s idea that each ‘‘form’’ is an autono- mous cause (even though they all depend on the ‘‘first mover’’ or ‘‘first cause,’’ God). A peculiar feature of Plethon’s metaphysics, which contrasts both with Chris- tianity and ancient Platonism, is that it is absolutely ‘‘cataphatic.’’ A Metaphysics of Icons? Byzantine metaphysics has sometimes been sought for in beings,’’ that is, a field principally theological, that is, the quarrel between adorers and enemies of the holy icons (eight to ninth centuries). It has been argued that the idea of the defenders of the icons, such as John of Damascus and Theodore Studites, that a material being such as an icon can reflect the high qualities of a divine being, that is, Jesus Christ, implies a close and positive relation between God as the archetypal being and the sensible world as the realm M of derivative beings, in contrast with what is the case in the Platonic bipolar ontology, where the sensible world is just a dull reflection of the real one, that is, the intelligible, whence it derives. This interpretation, apart from the fact that it does not take into account the monistic aspect of Neoplatonism, which, in virtue of its ramification of things, brings images close to realities, argues for the similarity of the sensible with the intelligible realm not from the qualities of the former itself but from a specific sort of sensible beings, that is, the artificial objects, and, more specifically, the religious ones. Thus, it fails to show that a metaphysical doctrine really lies there, since the similarity spoken of by the adorers of the icons does not regard the material aspect of icons but their content, which is Incarnation and its effects, and hence has no natural relation or necessary links with the intelli- gible realm. and bringing about the Another topic of Byzantine metaphysics, which remains unexplored, has to do with the question of the priority of ‘‘one’’ over ‘‘being’’ or vice versa in the divine realm. This question was posed, for example, by Michael Psellos (Philosophica minora, 7), in the context of his predilection for Platonism and by Demetrios Kydones in the context of his subscription to Thomas Aquinas’ doc- trine of the four ‘‘transcendentals.’’ Michael of Ephesus KATERINA IERODIAKONOU Department of Philosophy and History of Science University of Athens Athens Greece Abstract Michael of Ephesus most probably belonged to the twelfth tou Palama century intellectual circle around Anna Komnene and took part in her project to produce commentaries on (‘‘Teubner’’). Stuttgart/ Aristotle’s works. His work on Aristotle’s ethics, logic, metaphysics, and biology was instrumental in the revival Quaestiones quodlibetales of Aristotelian studies in Byzantium, but also in the trans- Patristica et Byzantina, 4. mission and rediscovery of Aristotelian thought in the Latin West. et Amphilochia. Vol IV: Biography (eds) (1930) Œuvres III. Maison de la Bonne Presse, We know next to nothing about Michael of Ephesus’ life. His dates have been disputed, but at least we can now say with confidence, thanks to Browning’s and Ebbesen’s research, that he lived not in the eleventh century, as philosophy. Athens Praechter had argued, but in the twelfth century, and moreover that he most probably, together with Eustratios patristica e bizantina: dalle of Nicaea, belonged to Anna Komnene’s circle of intellec- iconoclastiche. Edizione terza Universitas tuals, which had the task to produce commentaries on Aristotle’s works. According to a twelfth century source, tradition: Eustratios he is said to have complained that his eyesight was spoiled because he had to work through the night to comply with Documenti e Studi Anna Komnene’s wishes. It still remains unsettled, how- 47 Philosophie? Östkirchliche ever, whether he wrote his commentaries only while he was working under Anna, or whether he commented on Aristotle’s treatises also before and after this period. der Griechen biz zum Oehler K Antike Thought München, pp 15–37 in Byzanz. München Michael’s breadth as an Aristotelian commentator is supplémentaire No remarkable. He could justifiably be compared to Alexan- philosophie). Paris (21959; trans: der of Aphrodisias both in respect of his mode of exposi- tion and in respect of his method of interpretation; historiograph- besides, some of his comments were initially edited 74(1):247–294 under Alexander’s name. He wrote commentaries on the fifth, ninth, and tenth book of the Nicomachean Ethics; in fact, it has been plausibly suggested that it was he who compiled this commentary, bringing together the com- ments of Aspasius, Eustratios, and two anonymous com- mentators. He also commented on Metaphysics 7–14 and on the Sophistical Refutations (both wrongly attributed to Alexander), on the Parva naturalia, on the Generation of Michael of Ephesus M 785 eudaimonia is an imperfect kind of eudaimonia, whereas theoretical eudaimonia is the only perfect eudaimonia the virtuous person can have. But to this Platonist account of eudaimonia, and in particular to the notion of theoretical eudaimonia, Michael adds a further feature; he claims that, apart from being perfect, the most pleasant, continuous, chosen for itself, and self-sufficient, a feature of theoretical eudaimonia is that there is no need for regret and repen- tance (metameleia/metanoia) in this state. Aristotle does not characterize the life of contemplation in these terms, nor do the Platonists stress such a characteristic of eudaimonia; on the other hand, both the notion of regret and that of repentance are very much part of the Christian outlook. crit- See also: ▶ Eustratios of Nicaea Bibliography Primary Sources Hayduck Michael (ed) (1891) Alexandri Aphrodisiensis in Aristotelis Metaphysica commentaria [Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca 1]. Reimer, Berlin Hayduck Michael (ed) (1901) Michaelis Ephesii in librum quantum Ethicorum Nicomacheorum commentarium [Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca 22.3]. Reimer, Berlin M Hayduck Michael (ed) (1903) Ioannis Philoponi (Michaelis Ephesii) in libros De generatione animalium commentaria [Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca 14.3]. Reimer, Berlin Hayduck Michael (ed) (1904) Michaelis Ephesii in libros De partibus animalium, De animalium motione, De animalium incessu commentaria [Commantaria in Aristotelem Graeca 22.2]. Reimer, Berlin Heylbut Gustav (ed) (1892) Eustratii et Michaelis et anonyma in Ethica Nicomachea commentaria [Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca 20]. Reimer, Berlin Immisch Otto (ed) (1929) Aristoteles, Politica. Leipzig, pp xvii–xxi; 293–327 Wallies Maximilian (ed) (1898) Alexandri quod fertur in Aristotelis Sophisticos elenchus commentarium [Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca 2.3]. Reimer, Berlin Wendland Paul (ed) (1903) Michaelis Ephesii in Parva naturalia commentaria [Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca 22.1]. Reimer, Berlin Secondary Sources Arabatzis G (2006) Paideia kai Episteme ston Michael Ephesio. In De influenced partibus animalium Α 1,3–2,10. Academy of Athens, Athens Browning R (1962) An unpublished funeral oration on Anna Comnena. In: Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society (n.s. 8). pp 1–12. Reprinted in Sorabji R (ed) (1990) Aristotle transformed. Duckworth, London, pp 393–406 Ebbesen S (1981) Commentators and commentaries on Aristotle’s virtues Sophistici elenchi: a study of post-Aristotelian ancient and medieval writings on fallacies, vol I. Brill, Leiden, pp 262–285 Ierodiakonou K (2005) Byzantine commentators on the epistemic status of ethics. In: Adamson P. Baltussen H, Stone MWF (eds) Philosophy, Latin commentaries, place anywhere from 1326–1337), while arguing that Studies, London, Michael’s extant commentary on I Sentences may date Neuplatonische Rezeption – from c. 1324 (Courtenay 1995:204; Schabel 1998:168– 171; Schabel and Courtenay 2007:567), and at least the der aristotelischen Politik parts of the extant commentary on II Sentences that con- tain explicit criticism of William Ockham’s ontological In libros De partibus and physical ideas date from the mid- to late 1330s, on Anzeigen 168: the cusp of a heated discussion at Paris of aspects of Ockham’s thought (Courtenay 1995). This is basically all we know or can surmise about Michael’s curriculum on the movement and vitae. York Michael is an enigma in a second way: although he du XIe siècle. Michel has received high marks for his intelligence and impor- tance from the few scholars who have studied his work – Albert Lang (1930:130) called Michael ‘‘an extremely gifted and prolific theologian’’ (ein äußerst begabter und fruchtreicher Theologe) and William J. Courtenay (1995:191) has written that Michael’s ‘‘Quaestiones in Sen- tentias remains one of the richest unedited and, for the most part, unstudied texts of the fourteenth century’’ – nevertheless we continue to know very little about his ideas. This is in part because his most important philo- sophical and theological work, his commentaries on the first and the second books of Peter Lombard’s Sentences are enormous (some 900 folio pages) and nearly totally unedited. Parts of Michael’s commentary on I Sentences survive in three manuscripts (Bologna, Biblioteca universitaria 2214 = Prol.-d.38,q.2; Bologna, Collegio di Spagna 40 = Prol.-d.1,q.9 and d.27,q.3-d. 38,q.2; Napoli, Biblioteca nazionale VII.C.1 = Prol.-d.8); the work was abbreviated twice in the fifteenth century, these two abbre- viations each existing in two manuscripts (Andrea de Mediolano’s in Firenze, Biblioteca Nazionale C. 8. 794 and Oxford, Bodleian, Canonici Misc. 276; Johannes de Marliano’s in Bergamo, G 3. 21 and Pavia, Università 226). Michael’s II Sentences is found in a single manuscript (Vatican, Vat. lat. 1087), where it is anonymous; the text is clearly a composite made up of several large treatments of predominately philosophical issues (e.g., creation, the instant, duration, time, eternity, the continuum, cognitive species) added to a truncated but more traditional com- mentary on dd. 1–2 of the Sentences, which Damasus Trapp dubbed the Opus ordinarium (for a list of the questions found in Michael’s I and II Sentences, see Trapp 1965). In a section of his II Sentences dealing with motion, Michael makes what is probably the earliest ref- erence at Paris to ‘‘Ockhamists’’ (Occamistae) who were teaching that motion is merely a description of the thing that is said to move, having no reality of its own; Michael, approaching the question from the point of view of phys- ics and not of semantics, rejects the Ockhamists’ position Michael of Massa M 787 about the future are neither true nor false and that, strictly speaking, God does not know the future as future. Auriol postulated both of these views in order to preserve human free will from any sort of determinism. As part of his response to Auriol’s views, Michael accepts Francis’ posi- tion that the natural world is, strictly speaking, fully deter- mined: the only sources of contingency in the world are God and human beings. Moreover, Michael accepts from Francis the distinction between two types of ‘‘indetermi- nation’’: an indetermination about the possible (de possibili) and an indetermination about what inheres in reality (de inesse). The former is the innate indetermina- tion of the human will by which the will is fully free and contingent; the latter is a lack of determination with respect to bringing some particular thing or action about. For both Francis and Michael, a determination toward bringing some particular action about (i.e., a determinatio de inesse) is fully compatible with the abso- lute freedom of the will (i.e., the will’s indeterminatio de possibili), and in fact that type of determination is required in order for the will to bring about any particular action at all. Thus, in order for our will to bring about a particular action, it must be both fully contingent and qualifiedly determined toward that action. In adopting this position, Michael of Massa was Francis of Marchia’s ‘‘truest follower M on the subject of divine foreknowledge’’ (Schabel 2000:214). With that said, Michael’s treatment is both longer and at times more clear than Francis’. Moreover, parts of Michael’s treatment of these issues are signifi- cantly different from Francis’ treatment, and based on these differences a compelling argument can be made that Michael’s treatment influenced Gregory of Rimini’s rejection of Auriol as well as Gregory’s own positive the- ory. The picture of Michael of Massa’s historical signifi- cance that emerges from this example is that he served as a link between Francis of Marchia’s innovative response to Peter Auriol’s ideas, on the one hand, and Gregory of Rimini’s, on the other, and in so doing Michael ‘‘may be a key figure in the Augustinian movement away from Dominican-oriented theology and toward the Francis- cans’’ (Schabel 2000:220). It should be noted that also in the area of trinitarian theology Michael clearly adopted some of Francis of Marchia’s ideas, although definitely not slavishly so. Here, as elsewhere, Michael exhibits his own theological and philosophical ‘‘style’’ (Friedman forth- coming-b: Chap. 12, Sect. 3). Another area of Michael’s philosophical thought that has received some attention is his views on human intel- lectual cognition. Michael accepts the important later medieval distinction between intuitive and abstractive cognition, adding to that basic division a further type (Tachau 1988:321–322, Bibliography Primary Sources Nearly all of Michael’s works are unedited (see the main text on the manuscripts containing the works). For published editions of parts of Michael’s Sentences commentaries, see Courtenay 2003, Friedman forthcoming-a, Friedman forthcoming-c, and Schabel 1998. On Michael’s Vita Christi, see Baier 1994; for references to further exe- senses must getical works and sermons, see Trapp 1956, 163 n. 11, and Trapp 1965, 58 and 131–133. – are what first Secondary Sources Baier W (1994) Michael von Massa OESA ({1337) – Autor einer Vita Christi. Kritik der Diskussion über ihre Zuordnung zur Vita Christi des Kartäusers Ludolf von Sachsen ({1378). In: Zumkeller A, to refine this Krümmel A (eds) Traditio Augustiniana. Studien über Augustinus und seine Rezeption. Würzburg, pp 495–524 Courtenay WJ (1995) The Quaestiones in Sententias of Michael de Massa, OESA: a redating. Augustiniana 45:191–207 Courtenay WJ (2003) The categories, Michael de Massa, and natural philosophy at Paris, 1335–1340. In: Biard J, Rosier-Catach I (eds) La tradition médiévale des catégories (XIIe-XVe siècles). Actes du XIIIe Symposium européen de logique et de sémantique médiévales (Avignon, 6–10 juin 2000). Peeters, Louvain-la-Neuven/Louvain/ Paris, pp 243–259 (with edition of question from Michael’s II Sent. ‘‘Utrum motus sit realiter ipsummet mobile quod movetur’’) Friedman RL (forthcoming-a) How ‘Augustinian’ were the Augustinian Hermits regarding intellectual cognition? Gerard of Siena, Michael of Massa, and the object of the human intellect. In: Courtenay WJ, Emery K Jr (eds) Philosophy and theology in the studia of the religious orders and at the papal court. (Brepols,Turnhout, forth- coming). (with edition of Michael’s response to the question ‘‘Utrum obiectum primum occurrens intellectui nostro sit Deus’’ (= I Sent., Marchia’s d. 3, q. 1)) Friedman RL (forthcoming-b) Intellectual traditions in the medieval university: the use of philosophical psychology in Trinitarian theol- ogy among the Franciscans and Dominicans, 1250–1350. Brill, Leiden Friedman RL (forthcoming-c) Michael of Massa on intuitive and abstrac- by that of the tive cognition (with edition of Michael’s Prologue, q. 1 = ‘‘Utrum scientia proprie dicta et a priori possit sub lumine fidei de divina natura communicari alicui viatori’’) Hödl L (1975) Studien zum nominalistischen Schöpfungsbegriff in der spätscholastischen Theologie des Michael de Massa O.E.S.A. ({ 1337). In: Mayer CP, Eckermann W (eds) Scientia Augustiniana. read into the Studien über Augustinus, den Augustinismus und den Augustinerorden. Festschrift Adolar Zumkeller OSA zum 60. Geburtstag. Augustinus-Verlag, Würzburg, pp 234–256 Lang A (1930) Die Wege der Glaubensbegründung bei den Scholastikern des 14. Jahrhunderts. Aschendorff, Münster i. W Schabel C (1998) Questions on future contingents by Michael of Massa, develop- OESA. Augustiniana 48:165–229 (with edition of I Sent., d. 35, d. 36, d. 38) Schabel C (2000) Theology at Paris, 1316–1345. Peter Auriol and the problem of divine foreknowledge and future contingents. Ashgate, Aldershot Schabel C (2002) Parisian commentaries from Peter Auriol to Gregory of Rome, Political Rimini and the problem of predestination. In: Evans GR (ed) Medi- aeval commentaries on the Sentences of Peter Lombard. Brill, Leiden, pp 221–265 Michael Psellos M 789 and was given the honorary title ‘‘Consul of the Philoso- in the middle ages. phers’’ as the head of the school of philosophy in Con- pp 545–568 Ockham: optics, stantinople. In 1054 he had to resign for political reasons and took the monastic habit at the Olympus monastery at Bithynia. He soon returned to Constantinople, but he never again played an important role in politics, though Augustiniana he remained most of his life as a court intellectual. There is Michael no reliable information about his later years. Psellos was a polymath and extremely prolific. His works include: historical writings, of which the most important is the Chronographia, a history of the years 976–1078, which places more emphasis on portraits of characters than on political events; he also wrote another shorter historical text in the form of a world chronicle, Historia syntomos; philosophical treatises and commen- taries, theological writings, poems, legal, geographical, military, and medical works as well as works on music; his speeches are famous as examples of rhetorical style (his best known panegyrics are on John Xiphilinos and on his own mother); finally, a collection of about five hundred letters is also extant. Thought Psellos taught all branches of philosophy (i.e., logic, nat- ural philosophy, and metaphysics). He was undoubtedly M among the most prominent scholars of the eleventh and twelfth centuries and greatly contributed to the revival of philosophical studies in Byzantium. In particular, he pro- vided philosophical instructions by closely reading and commenting on the works of ancient philosophers, and especially on Aristotle’s logical treatises, which he thought should be given a propaedeutic role as a necessary prepa- ration for dealing with more philosophical issues, but also as an intellectual exercise which enables one to dispose off heretical views. Thus, Psellos commented on and paraphrased treatises from the Aristotelian Organon (Categories, De interpretatione, Prior Analytics). The com- mentary on Aristotle’s Physics attributed to him in some manuscripts has recently been argued to be the work of George Pachymeres. Moreover, Psellos wrote a large num- ber of short treatises discussing particular philosophical issues raised, in part at least, by his pupils, such as, for instance, the distinction between homonyms and syno- nyms, the characteristic of substance as self-existent, the Platonic Forms, the unity of the soul and the body, the problem of evil, and dreams. He also compiled a short encyclopedia with the title De omnifaria doctrina, a set of brief outlines of various notions in philosophy, science, and theology. Many of the works attributed to him are spurious, for example the so-called De daemonibus. an indispensable instrument in our pursuit of truth. At the same time, however, Psellos juxtaposed the kind of knowledge we derive from logical reasoning to another kind, namely wisdom or dialectic, which can be acquired neither through demonstration nor through inductive reasoning. For there are things, according to Psellos, which cannot be understood by rational thought, ineffable things which are beyond demonstration. Indeed, Psellos, invoking Plato’s authority, claimed that wondering about the ineffable and the supernatural constitutes the ultimate task of philosophy. He, therefore, adhered to the view that the human mind is capable of grasping the truth both through reason and through illu- mination; that is to say, there are things which can be known by reason, while others, namely the ultimate prin- ciples of reality, can be known only by illumination. Dif- ficult though it may be to draw the line between the things known by reason and those known by illumination, at least Psellos in many of his writings gives us some idea of how he understands the notion of illumination; he describes it as the state which presupposes the end of all rational thinking and the prevalence of silence after a great deal of turmoil. In this, Psellos clearly followed the Neo- platonists, and in particular Proclus, with the difference that in Proclus the soul’s illumination comes from the intellect, whereas in Psellos the Neoplatonic intellect is replaced by the Christian God. though, See also: ▶ John Italos ▶ Logic, Byzantine ortho- Bibliography in his Primary Sources Gautier Paul (1980) Le De daemonibus du Pseudo-Psellos. REB 38:105–194 Moore Paul (2005) Iter Psellianum. Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto Psellos Michael (1876) Miscellanea, ed. Sathas KN. Mesaionike Bibliotheke, vol 5. Typois tou Chronou, Venice/Paris Psellos Michael (1926–1928) Chronographie ou histoire d’un siècle de should Byzance (976–1077), 2 vols, ed. Renauld É. Belles Lettres, Paris (repr. Paris, 1967); Psellos Michael (1984) Imperatori di Bisanzio (Chronografia), 2 vols, ed. Impellizzeli S. A Mondadori, Vicenza Psellos Michael (1936–1941) Scripta minora, 2 vols, ed. Kurtz E, Drexl F. Società editrice ‘‘Vita e pensiero’’, Milan Psellos Michael (1948) De omnifaria doctrina, ed. Westerink LG. writings JL Beijers, Utrecht Psellos Michael (1983) Orazione in memoria di Constantino Lichudi, ed. Criscuolo U. Edizioni Dott A. Sfameni, Messina Psellos Michael (1984) Oratoria minora, ed. Littlewood AR. Teubner, Leipzig Psellos Michael (1989) Encomio per la madre, ed. Criscuolo U. Moreover, Bibliopolis, Naples Psellos Michael (1989) Philosophica minora, 2. Opuscula psychologica, theologica, daemonologica, ed. O’Meara DJ. Teubner, Leipzig Psellos Michael (1989) Theologica I, ed. Gautier P. Teubner, Leipzig Mirrors for Princes M 791 ed. Criscuolo U. Michael Scot ed. Criscuolo U. WJ. W. de Gruyter, ▶ Arabic Texts: Natural Philosophy, Latin Translations of logica, physica, ▶ Arabic Texts: Philosophy, Latin Translations of Teubner, Stuttgart/ Fisher EA. Teubner, Mirrors for Princes G. T. Dennis. Teubner, ROBERTO LAMBERTINI Dipartimento di Scienze Storiche, Documentarie, LG, Duffy JM. Artistiche e del Territorio Università di Macerata Macerata Italy sur les Oracles Abstract ‘‘Mirrors for Princes’’ designates a literary genre in (ed) Byzantine philos- which political ideas are expressed in the form of advice to a ruler. This genre has its roots in Antiquity and espe- cially in Late Antiquity. The first medieval flourishing of Psellos. Brill, Leiden in the works of this kind dates back to the so-called Carolingian Renaissance, when the image of the ideal ruler is strongly M études sur Michel Psellus influenced by the monastic background of most authors writing on this topic. After a long decline, John of Salisbury gave a renewed impulse to the genre, exerting the lonely mission philosophy a long-lasting influence with his Policraticus. In the cul- Oxford, pp 139–156 tural context of the twelfth century, Mirrors for Princes Pachymère à la opened not only to the patristic heritage, but also to classical authors. Many mirrors date back to the second half of the twelfth and to the first half of the thirteenth De philosophy and century, when they mostly took the form of compilations. In the following period, great thinkers such as Aquinas eleventh and twelfth and Giles of Rome tried to insert the newly rediscovered Aristotelian ethical and political language into the mirrors & Neu- tradition. Giles’ De regimine principum was the most I. Die Illumina- successful and influential result of such effort. The rise of Studia Patristica De potestate papae treatises in the first half of the four- teenth century reduced the role of Mirrors for Princes Brill, Leiden as carriers of political ideas but could not completely of Greek supersede them. On the contrary, when the heyday of Cambridge De potestate papae was over, mirrors regained at least in de Michel Psellus. In: part their function. The present article does not cover the Günter Christian Hansen. Quattrocento: it is well known, however, that the tradition of the Mirrors continued in the Renaissance and in the gender. Byzantine Mod following centuries. Beck, Munich The use of the expression ‘‘Mirrors for Princes’’ to desig- nate a literary genre goes back to German scholarship that the Mirrors for Princes, the first flourishing of the genre is usually dated to the ninth century, in the context of Car- olingian courts. Scholars have rightly pointed out that some authors of this century draw on previous works, such as the already mentioned De duodecim abusivis seculi. Nevertheless, Smaragd of Saint Mihiel’s Via regia (813), Jonas of Orléans’ De institutione regia (831), Sedulius Scottus’ De rectoribus christianis (855–859), together with some works by Hincmar of Reims’ (806–882) build up the first noteworthy body of texts explicitly devoted to the moral instruction of the ruler. A common feature of such treatises is the focus on the personal Christian virtues of the sovereign. They represent therefore an important source for the history of virtue ethics in the early Middle Ages, since authors such as Smaragd are persuaded that the ruler should possess the same virtues as other Chris- tians, obviously at the highest level. A striking feature of Smaragd’s mirror, is that it overlaps in part the Diadema monachorum (a sort of manual for monks) of the same author. From this point of view, Carolingian Mirrors for Princes can be regarded as a source for the ethical doc- trines of the period, which are in turn heavily influenced by the monastic background of their authors. From the point of view of the history of political thought, such ‘‘mirrors’’ share the implicit assumption that the well-being of the kingdom depends almost exclu- sively on the moral righteousness of the ruler. As far as the relationship between the secular rulers and religious authority is concerned, the authors of such ‘‘mirrors’’ as well, although consider the king or the emperor as the highest authority about the of a community that is temporal and spiritual at the same and Cicero time. Sacerdotium and regnum are conceived of as integral (De divinis parts of a whole. Sedulius Scottus (De rectoribus V of his christianis) defines the temporal ruler as God’s vicar in Christian his church. Notwithstanding this, as Jürgen Miethke has sense of the pointed out, authors such as Jonas of Orléans, writing in honestae, the troubled period of Louis the Pious’ empire, try to draw influenced at least some boundaries dividing the sphere belonging to was often the spiritual power (mainly understood as the power of about De bishops) from temporal jurisdiction, without excluding falsely attrib- however, the possibility of interference. In case of neces- century, is sity, for example, the temporal ruler is allowed to have beyond recourse to church goods, but on the other hand, he influenced, should submit to the judgment of the bishop when he (dominus fails to fulfill his duties. later Carolin- Twelfth Century Between 1148 and 1153, Bernard of Clairvaux wrote a treatise addressed to Pope Eugenius III, the De consideratione, enlightening him not only about the duties and perils of the most important office in Christianity, but Mirrors for Princes M 793 by Vincent of Beauvais and inserted in his well-known and widely read Speculum historiale. Writing on the ridge between the twelfth and thir- teenth centuries, Gerald of Wales combined in his De principis instructione a detailed virtue ethics enriched with exempla from classical writers (first distinctio) with reports about the life of contemporary rulers (second and third distinctiones) that is an important source for histor- ical events as well. Thirteenth Century: From Compilation to the Reception of Aristotle To Vincent of Beauvais and the team working under his guidance we owe a large number of works based on a compilational method, that is, on the collection of authoritative short texts (called in medieval Latin auctoritates) interspersed with remarks by the authors who also shape the overall structure of the work. Wilhelm Berges pointed to the parts of Vincent’s works that could be seen as Mirrors of Princes. Berges’ hypothetical recon- struction of the original, although not completed, plan of Vincent’s work devoted to the prince was not confirmed by subsequent research. The rest of his remarks remain valid even after the recent critical edition of De morali principis institutione. In this treatise, together with the M usual description of the just ruler contrasted with the tyrant and the stock-in-trade advice concerning life at court, one finds an interesting account of the origins of power among human beings. According to a long-lasting theological tradition, the establishment of one human being’s power over others is first and foremost an act of violence, triggered by the perversity of mankind corrupted by sin. Only afterward can power, so to speak, redeem itself by fulfilling the function of compelling and punishing evildoers. The method adopted by Guillaume Peraldi’s De eruditione principum (later falsely attributed to Aquinas) is very similar to Vincent’s: together with the substantial identity of many of their views, this had led Berges to think that they belonged to the same, unfinished encyclopedic work about Christian kingship. To the same period belongs Guibert of Tournai’s Eruditio regum et principum (1259): the Franciscan friar explains the function of secular power with the necessity of compelling those who cannot be persuaded by spiritual means. Strongly influenced by the corpus of treatises attributed to Dionysius the Areopagite, Guibert conceives of the duties of princes according to the pattern of angelic hierarchies, thereby attributing to secular powers a mediating role between God and mankind. According to Jenny Swanson, John of Wales’ Breviloquium de Virtutibus, written most probably in the mid 1260s, can the contrary, he did not only draw on the reception of Aristotle through Aquinas (there are many tacit references to the Sententia libri ethicorum, to the fragmentary Sen- tentia libri politicorum, to De regno, and even to the Summa theologiae of the great Dominican master), but also very often succeeded in bending the Aristotelian texts he quoted in his treatise to an apology for hereditary monarchy (presented as the best form of government according to Aristotle), where the king is above positive law and subordinate only to natural law. Giles of Rome also succeeded, however, in setting a standard, so that his Mirror for Princes enjoyed an enormous success, partly because it was used as a handbook of Aristotelian practical philosophy. The De regimine principum was also translated into many vernaculars. Some of these versions, however, were not literal, but rather free arrangements that inserted remarks by the translator and also used other sources, such as the Bible, that Giles had neglected in favor of Aristotle, in order to offer an almost purely philosophical Mirror for Princes. Among such modified versions one can count, for different reasons, the so-called Glossa castellana to the Re regimine principum (first half of the fourteenth century) and John Trevisa’s rendering in Middle English. Writing a philosophical, that is, in his opinion, an Aristotelian Mirror for Princes, was also the intention inspiring, Engelbert of Admont, whose De regimine principum (shortly after 1300) had, however, almost no diffusion in the Middle Ages. This work is nevertheless of great inter- est, since Engelbert develops a virtue ethics that distin- guishes between the four cardinal virtues, that are necessary to anybody, and the virtuous habits that are required in kings and emperors. Only the latter, in fact, need what Engelbert calls virtutes regales, using an expres- sion that most probably derives from the Secretum secretorum, a spurious Aristotelian work whose first part was sometimes referred to as the De regimine principum written by the Stagirite. Engelbert also provides the reader with a quite original discussion of the forms of govern- ment, in which he takes into consideration not only simple constitutions, but also mixed ones. Surprisingly enough for a supporter of the imperium, Engelbert admits that monarchy in its simple form is extremely rare, because of the rarity of virtues among rulers. Therefore, according to the most recent interpretation by Karl Ubl, he gives his preference to a blend of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy. itself as Examples from the Fourteenth Century Already at the beginning of the fourteenth century, the literary genre of the Mirrors for Princes begins losing ground as a carrier of political theories, in favor of other Mirrors for Princes M 795 an overall theory of monarchy. His views about monarchy are not only inspired by the principle that Christian faith must be the unifying element of every political commu- nity but are also guided by the peculiar experience of the kingdom of Aragon, where this Catalan Franciscan friar spent most of his life. As a result, Eiximenis supports the idea of a monarchy that is bound by covenants to its subjects and shares its power with parliamentary institutions. See also: ▶ Bernard of Clairvaux ▶ Carolingian Renais- sance ▶ Giles of Rome, Political Thought ▶ John of Salisbury ▶ Thomas Aquinas, Political Thought Bibliography Primary Sources Aquinas Thomas (1979) De regno ad regem Cypri. In: Opera omnia iussu rights’’ Leonis XIII edita, vol 42. Editori di San Tommaso, Roma Beneyto Pérez J (ed) (1947) Glosa Castellana al ‘‘regimiento de Prı́ncipes’’ de Egidio Romano. Centro de estudios politicos y constitucionales, reprint Madrid (20052) Bernard of Clairvaux (1963) In: Leclercq J, Rochais H (eds) Apud Bartolomaeum Zannettum, De consideratione. Opera III. Editiones Cistercienses, Romae Eiximenis Francesc (1927/1980) In: Molins de Rei PD (ed) Regiment de la cosa pública. 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Maison Bellarmin [u.a.], Saint-Laurent, Paris probare iam assumptos. Quaglioni D (1999) ‘‘Regimen regis’’ e ‘‘ius regis’’ nell’esegesi di I Sam, 8, specula principum 11–17 e negli specula principum del tardo Medioevo. In: De secondo i linguaggi del Benedictis A, Pisapia A (eds) Specula principum. Vittorio Klostermann, Frankfurt/Main, pp 211–242 Miskawayh, Abū ʿAlı̄ M 797 influenced by Aristotle as well as by Neoplatonism and pp 1049–1053 firmly rooted in the tradition of al-Kindı̄. d’Alcuin. Note pour Biographical Information XV. La Ciudad de Dios Miskawayh is said to have been born around 325/936 in Rayy and died in 412/1030 in Isfahan aged 100 years. médiévale au Nowadays the allegation that he himself converted from and ideas of Zoroastrism to Islam is no longer upheld, but is trans- ferred to his forefathers. According to the Muntakhab Siwān al-hikma which ˙ ˙ contains information about the lives and doctrines of Spannungsfeld philosophers of the Greek and the Arabic-Islamic world, Oldenbourg, Miskawayh was consecutively in the service of the viziers career of a pseudo- Abū Muhammad al-Muhallabı̄, Abū l-Fadl ibn al-ʿAmı̄d ˙ ˙ University of Mich- and the latter’s son Abū l-Fath Dhū l-Kifāyatayn, the ˙ monarchs ʿAdud al-Dawla and Samsām al-Dawla, and di san Bernardo. In: ˙ ˙ ˙ then served at the court in Rayy under several patrons Trattati, Milano, pp posita. Studi di mainly as librarian, secretary, boon companion, and emis- sary. Furthermore he had contact with a number of well-known philosophers of his time, namely Abū Sulaymān al-Sijistānı̄ al-Mantiqı̄, al-Hasan ibn Suwār ibn ˙ ˙ al-Khammār, Abū l-Hasan al-ʿĀmirı̄, Ibn Sı̄nā, and Abū ˙ Hayyān al-Tawhı̄dı̄, with whom he engaged in ˙ ˙ a philosophical exchange which is preserved in the Book of Rambling (Questions) and Comprehensive (Answers) M (Kitāb al-Hawāmil wa-l-Shawāmil) and a Treatise on Justice (Risāla fı̄ l-māhiyyat al-ʿadl). Thought/Philosophy Miskawayh’s extant philosophical writings comprise two lengthy books, namely The Refinement of Character (Tahdhı̄b al-akhlāq wa-tathı̄r al-aʿrāq) and The Smaller Book of Triumph (al-Fawz al-asġar) and a number of ˙ minor treatises and fragments. A quite striking feature of Miskawayh’s style of writing is that he is frequently quot- ing himself, i.e., there often occur literal parallels between two or more of his works. The Smaller Book of Triumph presents the most remarkable example of this practice as it seems to have existed in at least two versions or recensions, which may both well go back to Miskawayh himself. The standard version is claimed to have been written at the request of an emir who wanted to have three issues dealt with which comprise all knowledge, namely the existence of God, the soul and its conditions, and prophethood. The alternative version is only preserved in fragments which present about half of the material of the standard version in a completely different arrangement and order appar- ently focusing on other questions, namely the hierarchy of being, man as microcosm, human soul, the attainment of happiness, and the classification of knowledge. The last two issues do not occur in the standard version of the same topic preserved in the entry on Miskawayh in the Muntakhab Siwān al-hikma. On the contrary, one should ˙ ˙ die willingly, i.e., abandon the sensible world, the bodily pleasures and desires and turn toward the intellect and the intelligibles, before one dies naturally. The rational human soul is potentially intellectual and by intelligizing the intelligibles it becomes actualized, and is an intellect. Intellect, in turn, is one and the same as its intelligibles and its intellection, and furthermore possesses self-knowl- edge. It does not derive all its knowledge from sense perception, rather, as the senses may err, intellect is able to judge sense data through the first principles which it finds in its own substance. Miskawayh distinguished three kinds of happiness: In the Book on Happiness, happiness of the soul, which is true knowledge and acting accordingly; happiness of the body, which is health, pro- portionality, and beauty of the body’s limbs; and happi- ness resulting from things outside the body, e.g., wealth, honor, family, and friends. The two latter ones are not ends in themselves, but only means by which to reach the happiness of the soul, which is the ultimate happiness, end, and perfection of the human being. As Miskawayh points out explicitly, man cannot attain perfection on his own, but being a social animal, he needs the company of his fellow men. Therefore hermitism has to be renounced. Furthermore, it is important that the four cardinal virtues, i.e., wisdom, temperance, courage, and justice, which are depicted each as a middle between two extreme vices, are extended beyond the virtuous person toward others who should thus benefit from these virtues and become virtu- ous themselves. In order to spread wisdom, i.e., theoretical and prac- tical wisdom, among the people, God has sent the proph- ets who are the doctors of the soul. l-ʿaql wa-l-maʿqūl) As to Miskawayh’s historical works, The Experiences of the Nations (Tajārib al-umam), which starts with the occurrence of the flood in the days of Noah and ends in 980 when the Buyids were still in power, presents past events to serve as examples to the rulers of the present. Much of what was going on during the Buyid reign Miskawayh describes by personal experience and therefore often takes a subjective point of view. He stresses the value of eyewitnessing compared to retelling hearsay accounts. A different kind of historical interest, namely an interest in the history of learning, wisdom, and philosophy becomes apparent in Miskawayh’s Eternal Wisdom (al- Hikma al-khālida) in which he gathers wise sayings of ˙ the Persians, Indians, Arabs, and Greeks to show the unity which prevails in human thought throughout time and place. Modal Theories and Modal Logic M 799 Arabic Modal Theories and Modal Logic Abū Yūsuf Yaʿqūb ibn al-Tawh: ı̄dı̄, SIMO KNUUTTILA Faculty of Theology University of Helsinki Helsinki Finland Miskawayh. BEO 17:7–74 and the R. fı̄ l-nafs wa-l-ʿaql) (m. 421). AI Abstract Early medieval thinkers were acquainted with ancient Arabica 11(1):80–87 modal theories through Boethius’ commentaries on De attribués à Miskawayh: interpretatione, which dealt with Aristotelian and other wa al-Ma‘qūl of ancient modal paradigms extensively. Modal syllogistic was brought into the discussion by the recovery of Aristotle’s Prior Analytics in the twelfth century. Medieval or Tartı̄b al-Saʿādāt wa- considerations were also influenced by Augustine’s ideas, Bahāristān. Tihrān Shūrā-yi Islāmı̄, which deviated from philosophical paradigms, particu- larly his conception of God as acting by choice between English trans) Risāla fı̄ simultaneous alternative possibilities There were analo- gous discussions of philosophical and theological modal- Tahdhı̄b al-Akhlāq. al- ities in Arabic philosophy. Arabic modal theories al-Fawz al-asġar (French influenced Latin discussions mainly through the transla- Tunis ˙ tions of Averroes’ works. M (ed) al-Hikma al-Khālida – Apart from ancient philosophical conceptions, the ˙ new idea of associating modal terms with simultaneous al-Hawamı̄l wa-l-shawāmil. alternatives was discussed by Abelard and some other early Risāla fı̄ l-khawf mina l- medieval thinkers. While these innovations were used to Damascus some extent in thirteenth-century theology, they were not often discussed in philosophical contexts. The increasing reception of Aristotle’s philosophy in the thirteenth cen- P (ed) Classical tury gave support to traditional modal paradigms, as is Institute, Lon- seen in Robert Kilwardby’s influential commentary on Aristotle’s Prior Analytics, where modal syllogistics is treated as an essentialist theory of the structures of being. Things became different when John Duns Scotus com- bined the various elements of the conception of modality of the parts of Alexandria and Baġdâd. as alternativeness into a detailed theory. A logically possi- ble state of affairs is something to which to be is not repugnant, though it may not be compossible with other possibilities. Scotus’ modal semantics influenced early The cultural fourteenth-century philosophy and theology in many Leiden/Köln in the Islamic ways. The new modal logic which was developed by Wil- liam Ockham, John Buridan, and others was based on the new modal semantics. Thirteenth-century essentialist assumptions were largely dropped from modal syllogistics, the Aristotelian version of which was regarded as al-Akhlāq. In: a fragmentary theory without a sufficient explication of the various fine structures of modal propositions. contradictories in the traditional square of opposition. While these rules defined how the members of various interpretation of opposed pairs were related to truth and falsity, it was thought that they could be further specified by classifying propositions on the basis of their matter. A typical feature of Aquinas’ account of the contingent matter is that uni- versal affirmative and negative propositions are false and particular affirmative and negative propositions are true. Comparing this with what is said about propositions in other matters, modal differences can be characterized as corresponding to a descending order in the frequency of true cases: the predicate is not truly said of any subject in impossible matter, it is truly said of some subjects in contingent matter and of all subjects in necessary matter. Boethius’ discussion of the necessity of the present shows how this principle was understood in ancient modal thought. In dealing with Chapter 9 of Aristotle’s De interpretatione, Boethius argues that: 1. It is not possible that p obtains at t and not-p obtains in the Boethian at t. This implies that of their 2. It is not the case that p obtains at t and it is possible at t that not-p obtains at t. are deter- This move is natural only when possibilities refer to one in the future and the same history without simultaneous alternatives. tenses; and neg- (2) was generally accepted in ancient philosophy, and it is the contrary is equivalent to the principle of the necessity of the present: universal propo- are true. This is 3. If p obtains at t then it is necessary at t that p obtains at t. both are at Boethius thought that the temporal necessity of p is qual- as well as those ified by the possibility of being otherwise at another time. herm, I.13). One might wonder how the alleged necessity of Socrates’ sitting at a certain moment of time is qualified by what he does at other times. According to Boethius, this shows that sitting as such does not inhere in Socrates by necessity. Qualifying the necessity of the present by a ‘‘statistical’’ it will be said to be conception of possibility remained a popular idea in the for example Boethian tradition. If the predicate is per Boethius was eager to argue that the necessity of an excluding the event at a certain time does not imply that it was anteced- in impossible or ently necessary. The idea of diachronic modalities was ass’. If the predicate considered important in the later Aristotelian tradition, between these which stressed against Stoic determinism, that there are subject nor per genuine future alternatives which remain open until the in possible or contin- moment of time to which they refer. Even the Stoics spoke about alternative prospective possibilities which were not yet fixed at the level of known causes, but they also regarded fate as an active potency which ultimately Modal Theories and Modal Logic M 801 Averroes and Aquinas tried to explain these by using the idea of abstract possibilities. The possibilities of a thing can be dealt with at various levels which correspond to Porphyrian predicables. Something which is possible for a thing as a member of a genus may be impossible for it as a member of a species. The same holds of it as a member of a species and an individuated thing. While counterfactual abstract possibilities are counterpossible in the sense that they cannot be actualized, they are understandable meta- physical fictions which can be used in indirect proofs. Augustine’s doctrine of God’s eternal free choice of the content of creation, which influenced early medieval theo- logical discussions of divine omnipotence and omni- science, involved an intuitive idea of modality as alternativeness. Some authors regarded this as a special theological matter which did not affect the use of tradi- tional ideas in other disciplines, an attitude supported by the general reception of Aristotle’s philosophy in the thir- teenth century, but there were some twelfth-century thinkers who realized the philosophical significance of this new modal conception. Abelard made use of traditional modal conceptions, but he also developed new ideas. Assuming that what is actual is temporally necessary at a certain point of time as no longer avoidable, he adds that unrealized counterfac- M tual alternatives are possible at the same time in the sense that they could have happened at that time. There are also merely imaginable alternatives, such as Socrates’ being a bishop, which never had a real basis in things. Gilbert of Poitiers stressed the idea that natural regu- larities which are called natural necessities are not abso- lute, since they are freely chosen by God and can be overridden by divine power. This basically Augustinian conception had become a widespread theological view in the twelfth century. In explaining Plato’s ‘‘Platonitas,’’ Gilbert says that this includes all that Plato was, is and will be, as well as what he could be but never is. The modal element of the individual concept was probably needed in order to speak about Plato in alternative possible histories or, as Abelard did, about Socrates as a bishop. Gilbert seems to have been the first to formulate an individual concept in this way. A significant early thirteenth-century analysis of the modal aspects of the Augustinian theolog- ical modalities was put forward by Robert Grosseteste. A third context of the systematic interest in simulta- neous alternatives was the new twelfth-century theory that declarative singular propositions should be primarily treated as temporally definite and as having an unchang- ing truth-value. This approach was developed by twelfth- century authors, later called nominales, one of whose theses was that ‘‘What is once true is always true.’’ negative) of the modals, the author states that modal terms may be adverbial or nominal. The modal adverb qualifies the copula, and the structure of adverbial modal propositions without negation is: Abelard’s view 4. Quantity/subject/modalized copula/predicate (e.g., or false. The Every A is-necessarily B). a specified future In this form, the negation may be located in different places, either it necessary. 5. Quantity/subject/copula modalized by a negated mode/predicate (e.g., Every A is-not-necessarily B). contingent or position was 6. Quantity/subject/modalized negative copula/predi- it to Aristotle cate (e.g., Every A is-necessarily-not B). If modal propositions with a negation are read in accor- dance with (5), then the mode is denied; if they are read in accordance with (6), the modal adverb qualifies a negated predication. Modal propositions with the structure of (4)– (6) are also called de re or divided modalities. Modal propositions with nominal modes can be taken to mean the same as corresponding adverbial modal propositions or can be taken to mean that what is expressed by a non- modalized proposition is necessary, possible, or impossi- ble. Propositions with non-adverbial nominal modes are singular, their form being 7. Subject/copula/mode (e.g., That every A is B is necessary). Modal propositions of this structure are called de dicto or compound modalities. Modalities de dicto are said to be dealt with in Aristotle’s De interpretatione and modalities de re in the Prior Analytics. These distinctions were often mentioned in discus- sions of the composition-division ambiguity in fallacies – this was their historical background. The compound interpretation of ‘‘A standing man can sit’’ was usually taken to be ‘‘It is possible that a man sits and stands at the same time.’’ Many authors formulated the corresponding divided interpretation as involving a reference to a later or earlier time. The reference to another time was based on the Boethian assumption that the necessity of the present prevents the acceptance of fourteenth- 8. p (now) & it is possible that not-p (now). famous The authors who regarded (8) as false did not operate with counterfactual alternatives, thinking that if an unactualized present possibility is assumed to be actual- ized, something impossible follows. As for the logic of unanalyzed modal propositions, Aristotle mentioned its basic inference rules without Modal Theories and Modal Logic M 803 deduction proofs of syllogisms. While the conversion of assertoric propositions (‘‘Every A is B’’ implies ‘‘Some B is A,’’ ‘‘Some A is B’’ is equivalent to ‘‘Some B is A’’ as well as ‘‘No A is B’’ to ‘‘No B is A’’) was frequently discussed in early medieval logic, the modal conversions were not often dealt with before the Prior Analytics began to be used in logic teaching in the thirteenth century. According to Aristotle (An. pr. I.3), necessity propositions are converted in the same way as the corresponding assertoric proposi- tions; negative contingency propositions are converted to affirmative contingency propositions of the same quantity and these by the conversion of terms to particular contin- gency propositions. While these rules are not problematic with respect to modals in the compound (de dicto) sense, Aristotle employed them in proving modal syllogisms, some of which seem to be acceptable only when the pre- mises are necessity propositions in the divided (de re) sense. However, reading these conversion rules in the divided sense raises questions, since the actuality of a subject changes into necessity when the subject becomes the predicate and similarly with possibility and actuality. Many historians think that Aristotle’s modal syllogistic included various modal insights which did not form a coherent theory. This was not the view of mid-thir- teenth-century logicians, who believed that Aristotle’s the- M ory was perfect. In discussing the conversion rules and syllogistic moods, they hardly paid attention to the dis- tinction between compound and divided modalities, although some kind of divided reading was the underlying assumption. Many logicians discussed the same alleged counter-examples to the universal conversability of neces- sity propositions, such as 9. Everything healthy (or awake) is necessarily an animal. Robert Kilwardby’s explanation is based on the view that convertible necessity premises in modal syllogistics are necessity propositions per se and not per accidens, like (9), which are not convertible. In affirmative necessity propositions per se, the subject is per se connected to the predicate. In negative necessity propositions per se, the subject is per se incompatible with the predicate. The terms in per se inherences or incompatibilities are essential and necessarily stand for the things they signify. The historical background to Kilwardby’s interpretation is not clear, but it does show close similarities to Averroes’ discussions and may have been influenced by them. As for the conversion of contingency propositions (neither necessary nor impossible), Kilwardby notes that while the converted propositions of indefinite (utrumlibet) contingency propositions are of the same type of contingency, the conversion of natural contingency syllogism does not appropriate a minor premise of any special contingency, the major premise of a mixed first- figure contingency-assertoric syllogism demands a simply assertoric minor premise which is true in most cases, if not necessary. Kilwardby and his followers considered Aristotle’s modal syllogistics as the correct theory of modalities, the explication of which demanded metaphysical consider- mean either ‘‘to that ations. Restricting the modal conversion of necessity propositions into those involving necessary terms and the discussions of the kinds of contingency are examples of this approach as well as the various appropriation rules. Kilwardby assumed that propositions of the same form had different interpretations, depending on how they were related to other propositions in a syllogism. From the logical point of view, the rules pertaining to this variation have an ad hoc character. Late medieval discussions of necessity and possibility A is necessarily B’’ were strongly influenced by the modal theory of John Duns Scotus, who took as an obvious fact that there are contingent states of affairs which could be otherwise at that very moment of time at which they are actual. This idea of simultaneous alternatives played an important role in Scotus’ proofs for the existence of a necessary first being which acts as the free first cause of the contingent world. Augustine had already argued that the eternal and immu- table creative act of divine will is free only if it is a choice between alternatives and could be other than it is. This conception was developed in much more detail in Scotus’ metaphysics. God’s omniscience involves all possibilities, which as objects of God’s knowledge receive an intelligible or objective being. Some of these are included in God’s providential plan of creation and will receive actual being. The description of a possible state of affairs at a certain moment consists of compossible possibilities. Although possibilities necessarily are what they are, the actualiza- tions of non-necessary possibilities are not necessary but contingent. Since all finite things are contingently actual when they are actual, they are associated with alternative to itself a minor possibilities with respect to the same time, though these are not compossible with what is actual. Impossibilities are incompossibilities between possible components, such as Socrates’ sitting at a certain time and Socrates’ not sitting at that same time. One of Scotus’ new ideas was the domain of possibility as a nonexistent objective precondition of all being and thinking. This was well known in the seventeenth century as well through Suárez’s works. In his discussion of eternal truths, Descartes criticized the classical view of the onto- logical foundation of modality as well as the Scotist theory of modality and conceivability. He thought that necessities Modal Theories and Modal Logic M 805 Kilwardby’s interpretation. The new modal logic of Wil- liam Ockham, John Buridan, and Pseudo-Scotus was among the most remarkable achievements of medieval logic. Aristotle’s modal syllogistics was now regarded as a fragmentary theory in which the distinctions between different types of fine structures were not explicated. These authors did not try to reconstruct it as such into a uniform system, believing, like some modern commenta- tors, that such a reconstruction is not possible. Buridan’s modal logic, dominant in late medieval times, was embraced by such influential authors as Marsilius of Inghen, Albert of Saxony, and Jodocus Trutfetter. The rise of the new modal logic was accompanied by theories of epistemic logic and deontic logic which also belong among the remarkable achievements of late medieval philosophy. See also: ▶ Albert the Great ▶ Anselm of Canterbury ▶ Augustine ▶ Boethius ▶ Gilbert of Poitiers ▶ Ibn Rushd, Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Hafı̄d (Averroes) ˙ ˙ ˙ ▶ John Buridan ▶ John Duns Scotus ▶ Logic ▶ Logic in the Arab and Islamic World ▶ Peter Abelard ▶ Prior Ana- lytics, Commentaries on Aristotle’s ▶ Robert Grosseteste ▶ Robert Kilwardby ▶ Syllogism, Theories of ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ William of Ockham M Bibliography Primary Sources Albert the Great (1890) Commentarius in librum I priorum analyticorum, ed. Borgnet A. Opera omnia, vol 1. Vivès, Paris Anonymus (1967) Dialectica Monacensis. In: de Rijk LM, Logica modernorum. A contribution to the history of early Terminist logic II.1–2: The origin and early development of the theory of supposi- tion. Wijsgerige teksten en studies, vol 6. van Gorgum, Assen Aquinas Thomas (1989) Expositio libri Peryermenias, cura et studio Fratrum Praedicatorum. Commissio Leonina, Rome/Vrin, Paris; Thomas A (1962) On interpretation (trans: Oesterle JT). Marquette University Press, Milwaukee Boethius (1877–1880) Commentarii in librum Aristotelis Perihermeneias I–II, ed. Meiser C. Teubner, Lipzig Buridan John (1976) Tractatus de consequentiis, ed. Hubien H. Philosophes médiévaux 16. Publications Universitaires, Louvain; Vander-Oyez, Paris Buridan John (2001) Dialectica (an annotated translation with a philosophical introduction by Klima G). Yale, New Haven Duns Scotus John (1963) Opera omnia, vol 6, ed. Balić C et al. Typis Polyglottis Vaticanis, Vatican City Kilwardby Robert (1516) In libros priorum analyticorum expositio (under the name of Giles of Rome). Venice (repr. Minerva, Frankfurt am Main, 1968) Ockham William (1974) Summa logicae, ed. Boehner Ph, Gál G, Brown S. Guillelmi de Ockham Opera philosophica, vol 1. St. Bonaventure University, St. Bonaventure Peter Abelard (1919–1927) Philosophische Schriften I. Die Logica ‘Ingredientibus’, ed. Geyer B. Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters XXI. Aschendorff, Münster, pp 1–3 ed. Minio-Paluello L. 1270 and 1300, the most important names being Martin of II: Abaelardiana inedita. Dacia, Radulphus Brito, and Thomas of Erfurt. Their librum priorum work on grammar and logic is characterized by the inten- Richard Campsall, vol 1. tion to situate these former liberal arts within the medieval system of sciences. In order to achieve this goal they had to find universal objects for these new sciences. The result was the introduction of the concept of ages. Routledge, London/ ‘‘modes of signifying’’ (modi significandi) in grammar, denoting the general meanings of words that constitute Aurelianensis III – on the prior analytics, grammatical categories. In logic, they shared the opinion du Moyen-Âge Grec et of other intentionalists of their time that the proper sub- ject of logic is the second intention. In grammar as well as Routledge, Lon- in logic they assumed a complete interdependence between the structure of reality and the operations of the B, Leftow B (eds) The University Press, mind. To warrant the foundation of our mental and lin- guistic operations in reality, they argued that every modal logic. In: Woods J, extramental object has various modes of being (modi of logic II. Elsevier, essendi) which serve as the ontological counterpart of the modes of signifying and the second intentions. and medieval deontic logic. al-tahâfut: Averroes on The term Modistae is used to denote the, mostly Parisian, masters of the late thirteenth and early fourteenth century middle ages. Studien und who wrote on grammar, logic, and metaphysics. They 70. Brill, Leiden worked within a tradition that had its origin in ancient arguments from Oxf Stud Latin grammar, but had undergone considerable change under the influence of the work of scholars such as Robert In: Williams T (ed) The Grosseteste, Peter Helias, Robert Kilwardby, and many University Press, anonymous commentators on Priscian. The first repre- sentatives of the modist school were the Danish grammar- DM (eds) Handbook of pp 471–556 ians Boethius and Martin of Dacia (c. 1270), but the most and concepts. Ashgate important author seems to be Radulphus Brito (c. 1290). The last significant member of the group was Thomas of of Robert Kilwardby. Erfurt (c. 1300), whose work Grammatica speculativa is considered the most complete modistic treatment of obligations, insolubles Library 49. Kluwer, grammatical theory available. In the early Middle Ages grammar was the art of speaking well, vocal expressions being its object. It was after the recovery of Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics, how- ever, that the ideas about grammar changed: grammarians now wanted to make grammar a science. This scientific approach to grammar was called ‘‘speculative grammar.’’ Taking Aristotle’s requirements for the construction of a scientific theory seriously, the Modistae were looking for universal and immutable objects that could function as the foundation of their science. Since speech differs from one language to another, vocal expressions could no longer constitute the immutable objects of a universal grammar. Thus, grammarians became philosophers, spec- ulating about the universal features of language, in partic- ular the construction of linguistic expressions. The Modistae were interested in the meanings of words in so Modistae M 807 of the modes of signifying. Being moderate realists, the Modistae assumed that the structure of reality is mirrored in cognition and in language. As the necessary ontological counterparts of the modes of signifying they introduced the modes of being (modi essendi), which they considered to be accidental properties of the extramental objects, as distinct from their substantial form. Furthermore, since modes of being cannot be signified without being under- stood, a mental counterpart was needed: the modes of understanding (modi intelligendi). The modes of signify- ing correspond with the modes of understanding (our concepts) and through these they find their ontological foundation in the modes of being. This modistic triangle of modes is in accordance with the traditional interpreta- tion of Aristotle’s De interpretatione ch. 1, according to which words signify concepts and concepts are natural likenesses of extramental objects. Later philosophers crit- etc. For this lexeme to icized the modists for confusing linguistic distinctions with real ones, but this confusion was a consequence of their Aristotelian conception of science. The grammatical theory of the modes of signifying also determined the modistic outlook on logic. The Modistae were interested in metalogical questions about the status of logical concepts. In their view, logic should be considered not as an art, as in the tradition of the liberal M arts, but as a science, and what holds for grammar also holds for logic: if it is to be a science, its object must be immutable and eternal. In the case of logic, this object appeared to be the second intention. Second intentions are concepts of a certain kind, which are supposed to be universal and objective and to have a foundation in reality (fundamentum in re), for example, ‘‘genus,’’ ‘‘species,’’ ‘‘proposition,’’ and ‘‘syllogism.’’ Thomas Aquinas and other intentionalists in the Mid- dle Ages considered second intentions as second order concepts (concepts of concepts) and first intentions as concepts of extramental things. The Modistae, however, were of the opinion that second intentions are only sec- ondary in the sense that they presuppose first intentions. Both first and second intentions are first-order concepts, in their view. Moreover, an intention is a concept as well as the foundation of its content; it can be every extramental object as far as it is known, for example, a man as con- ceived. This reflects the epistemological view that the human intellect grasps extramental objects through con- cepts that designate these things including the ways in which they are conceived. First and second intentions result from the operations of the intellect in the following way (Pinborg, 1975). The act of apprehension produces first intentions like man and animal and second intentions like genus and species; the Secondary Sources Bursill-Hall GL (1971) Speculative grammar in the Middle Ages. The and propo- doctrine of Partes orationis of the Modistae. Mouton, The Hague/ Paris Covington MA (1984) Syntactic theory in the high Middle Ages. Modistic models of sentence structure. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge de Rijk LM (2005) Giraldus Odonis OFM, Opera philosophica, vol II: De is: how intentionibus. Critical edition with a study on the medieval inten- tionality debate up to ca. 1350. Brill, Leiden Ebbesen S et al (1984) Simon of Faversham, Quaestiones super libro elenchorum. Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, Toronto Pinborg J (1972) Logik und Semantik im Mittelalter. Ein Überblick. Frommann-Holzboog, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt Pinborg J (1975) Radulphus Brito’s sophism on second intentions. Vivar- ium XIII:119–152 Pinborg J (1982) Speculative grammar. In: Kretzmann N, Kenny A, Pinborg J (eds) The Cambridge history of later medieval philosophy. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, pp 254–269 Rosier I (1983) La grammaire spéculative des Modistes. Presses universitaires de Lille, Lille Rosier I (1994) La parole comme acte. Sur la grammaire et la sémantique au XIIIe siècle. Vrin, Paris accidental properties the founda- Logicians Moral Philosophy, Arabic ▶ Ethics, Arabic the work of have less clear how which Moses Maimonides by the HOWARD KREISEL The Goldstein-Goren Department of Jewish Thought Ben-Gurion University of the Negev Beer Sheva Israel Abstract The article deals with the leading Jewish philosopher of the Middle Ages, Moses Maimonides. It provides an overview of the topics he deals with in his treatise, The Guide of the Perplexed. These topics include the nature of God, the creation of the world, miracles and prophecy, the problem of evil, providence, and human perfection. minore, ed. Stuttgart-Bad Biographical Information Moses Maimonides (b. 1138, Cordoba; d. 1204, Cairo) was (an edition with trans not only the most important Jewish philosopher of the Middle Ages, but one of the greatest scholars of Jewish Law Moses Maimonides M 809 uphold the masses’ belief in God, since they can only accept the existence of corporeal entities. In truth, how- ever, all these descriptions should be interpreted in a figurative manner. Maimonides feels that the time was ripe to reveal the truth of God’s incorporeality to all the adherents of Judaism and insist that they uphold this belief. Many other topics, however, must continue to be presented in a veiled manner – for example, the Account of Creation at the beginning of the book of Genesis and the Account of the Chariot at the beginning of the book of Ezekiel – in order not to disturb the faith of the masses. Maimonides explicitly indicates that while he will attempt to further enlighten his readers on the true mean- ing of traditional texts dealing with the most profound topics pertaining to Jewish thought, he will at the same time uphold the spirit of the prohibition not to present these truths explicitly but only hint at them. One of the techniques he employs is that of purposeful contradictions in his treatise in order to hide what he regards as the true view. Another is the diffusion of remarks hinting to his true view on a given topic in the context of his discussion of a different topic. Thus, to reconstruct Maimonides’ position on a given topic, it is important not only to pay close attention to the manner he presents his positions and the premises underlying them, but also to study the trea- M tise in its entirety and not only the chapters pertaining to the topic in question. Maimonides assumes that the aver- age reader is an inattentive reader who will not pick up on his hints. His writing technique, however, has resulted through the centuries in far different interpretations of the views he presents in his treatise. From Maimonides’ introduction it is tempting to con- clude that he sees the esoteric level of the traditional texts of Jewish tradition as being in essential agreement with the Aristotelian philosophical conception of the world, while on their exoteric level they appear to contradict the world- view of the philosophers. Otherwise why would he go to such extremes to hide his true views? This indeed has been the thrust of one important school of interpretation of the treatise throughout the ages, whose most famous modern exponent has been Leo Strauss. Yet in the Guide itself much of the most significant philosophical argumentation goes to proving that the philosophers accepted doctrines not demonstrably proven by reason and the traditional doctrines are in fact more in harmony with the dictates of reason. This is particularly true of Maimonides’ discussion of the creation of the world, which will be discussed in more detail below. Maimonides divides his treatise in three sections. Many of the chapters of the first section form a philosophical lexicon, for the most part devoted to relation to a Separate Intellect, with God serving as the First Cause and the Unmoved Mover on the pinnacle of the hierarchy of existence. The one point on which Mai- monides breaks with the view of the philosophers is on the question of creation. The philosophers claim that the world with its fixed order always existed, God serving as the eternal First Cause of an eternal world eternally ema- nating from Him. Maimonides claims that God created the world and its order ex nihilo. Chapters 13–31 are devoted to negating the philosophic arguments for the eternity of the world and providing philosophic and reli- gious arguments for its creation. Maimonides also dis- cusses the question whether the world is eternal a parte post and presents his philosophic exegesis of the Account of Creation. In the context of this discussion he deals with the problem of miracles (chap. 29). He concludes the second part of the Guide with an analysis of the phenom- enon of prophecy (chaps. 32–48), drawing a sharp distinc- tion between this phenomenon, for the most part treated by him as a natural one, and two other phenomena which he treats as supernatural – the prophecy of Moses and the Revelation at Sinai. One can see that the acceptance of the doctrine of creation allows Maimonides to break with the Aristotelian philosophers, at least according to his explicit views, on the issue of purposeful exceptions to the natural order. Only the God of creation can also be the God of history, though Maimonides attempts to limit the occur- rence of miracles and God’s immediate involvement in human affairs. The third part of the Guide opens with a philosophical exegesis of the Account of the Chariot (chaps. 1–7), treating Ezekiel’s vision of the heavenly world as essentially presenting the order of the spheres and their Movers and their influence on the four sublunar elements – that is to say the scientific picture of the world – in an allegorical manner. The next topics that Maimonides discusses are the problems of evil, personal providence, and God’s knowledge of particulars. He also presents a philosophical analysis of the Book of Job (chaps. 8–24). He continues with a lengthy excursus of the reasons for the divine commandments presented in the Pentateuch (chaps. 25–50), and concludes the Guide with a discussion of human perfection (chaps. 51–54). that time and God In his discussion of God’s essence Maimonides combines Neoplatonic and Aristotelian ideas. Maimonides’ God is the absolute One from whom all positive attributes must be negated. These not only include attributes belonging to the Aristotelian categories pertaining to material beings, such as quantity, quality, place, time, relation etc., but even Moses Maimonides M 811 these diverse views of God are reconciled by God’s abso- lute, unfathomable ‘‘otherness.’’ Creation At the outset of the discussion Maimonides presents three fundamentally different views on this issue: the traditional view treating the world in its entirety as created ex nihilo; the Platonic view that the world is created from eternal matter since creation ex nihilo is regarded as absolutely impossible; the Aristotelian view that the world existed without beginning with God as its source. Since the Pla- tonists, like the Aristotelians, posit some form of eternal state to the world, Maimonides feels that it is sufficient to tackle the more rigorous arguments of the Aristotelians on this question and ignore the Platonic approach. Maimon- ides maintains that while the Aristotelians have presented many arguments in support of their view, none of them is demonstrative. He summarizes and critiques the known philosophic arguments for eternity showing that each suffers from a major flaw. The philosophic proofs are either predicated on the laws of physics, such as every motion must be preceded by a motion, hence motion is without beginning, or on theological premises, such as creation entails a change in God, while it has been dem- onstrated that God is not subject to any form of change. M Against the former set of proofs Maimonides argues that physical laws came into being with the creation of the world and do not reflect the state of affairs prior to creation. In other words, they are natural laws, and not logical ones, which God introduced when creating the world. The theological proofs for eternity are regarded by Maimonides as more compelling since they are based on the nature of the Deity. He argues that the act of creation does not entail the movement from potentiality to actuality, nor does the act of willing after not willing entail a change of essence since this is the essence of will – that is to say, to will or not will. Only if we posit external factors influencing the divine will would this entail a change in God. The argument that just as God’s wisdom, which mandated the creation of the world is eternal so must the world be eternal is dismissed by Maimonides on the grounds that we do not fathom the divine wisdom which may have mandated the creation of a non-eternal world. Maimonides concedes that his critique of the philo- sophic arguments does not in itself constitute a proof for creation, it only shows that creation is possible from a philosophic perspective. Maimonides presents one dia- lectical argument for creation which he finds rationally compelling, one based on the notion of ‘‘particulariza- tion’’ – that is to say, the peculiarities exhibited by the occurrence. God created a perfect natural order; hence, there can be no permanent changes in nature. Nature, and not miracles, is regarded by Maimonides as the true expression of divine wisdom. Miracles are rare, temporary disruptions in nature. Moreover, Maimonides suggests that miracles are in some manner implanted in nature at creation, God experiencing no change of will after the creation of the world. This view entails that nature is created also to meet certain historical exigencies. Prophecy is treated by Maimonides as a completely natural phenomenon. Only the person who possesses a perfect intellect and imagination can receive prophecy. Maimonides does introduce an element of divine will in dealing with this phenomenon by maintaining that God can intervene and withhold prophecy from one who is worthy, just as the case with miracles in general, which disrupt the natural functioning of the order. Yet God, Maimonides, argues, never bestows prophecy to one who does not possess all the necessary qualifications. Whether to show that there are Maimonides, in fact, believed that God ever intervened in the process, or whether he added this point to mask his complete agreement with the Aristotelian position, is a subject of debate among his interpreters. Prophecy itself is not defined as a message from God but rather an emanation from God to the Active Intellect and from there to the rational faculty of the individual and to the imagination, resulting in seeing theoretical truths in figurative form, or learning principles of governance, or viewing the future. Maimonides’ account appears to allude to the view that God does not bestow a particular vision on the individual but the emanation strengthens the individual’s own rational and imaginative faculties, thereby providing the person with a vision regarding mat- ters that he was thinking about. This interpretation is strengthened by the fact that Maimonides in his discus- sion of prophecy speaks also of an emanation from the Active Intellect to the rational faculty alone due to the weakness of the imagination which results in the person becoming a philosopher, and the emanation to the imag- ination alone, characterizing politicians and diviners. Prophecy thus appears to be a completely natural phenomenon, just as the other phenomena are. Even the prophetic mission is explained by Maimonides in terms of an emanation that is so strong that the prophet feels compelled to extend his perfection to others. Maimonides notes that a similar phenomenon occurs by philosophers, leading them to write books and teach others. The prophetic mission for Maimonides essentially is the result of internal compulsion as a result of the prophetic experience rather than an explicit command from the Deity. Moses Maimonides M 813 Intellects), form with changeless matter except for motion (the spheres), and form with matter in a state of constant generation and corruption (the existents on the earth) – is more complete or perfect than a world lacking one of these levels. A perfect world then inevitably contains evils con- sequent upon earthly matter. The real problem thus becomes what humans can do given this state of affairs. The answer is that they can recognize the nature of the hierarchy of existence and their place in it. More important they can recognize the nature of true human perfection and strive to attain it, in the process avoiding many of the evils that normally affect them. Maimonides points out that there are three types of evils affecting human beings. The first and least prevalent from Maimonides’ standpoint are natural evils, such as natural disasters or the death of infants. Maimonides’ earlier discussion of the phenomenon of prophecy sug- gests that even many of these evils may be avoided by advanced knowledge of the future. For example, knowing in advance when a flood will occur allows for saving oneself from the flood. Far more prevalent than this type of evil are the evils humans perpetrate against each other. Given the fact that these evils result from human choice, it is clear that it is in our hands to avoid practicing them. The most prevalent type of evil, however, is neither of M these two, but the evils the individual perpetrates against himself. For Maimonides, any action that brings the indi- vidual a step away from perfection is an evil; every action bringing one closer to perfection is good. Human perfec- tion lies in putting an end to our greatest privation, the privation of knowledge, specifically knowledge of God and the manner of divine governance of the world. It lies in adopting a life of moral virtue in order to free oneself from the slavery of one’s passions and live a life of intellect. In short, we practice evils against ourselves and others because of a lack of knowledge, which in turn leads to our maintaining a false value system by which we allow ourselves to be ruled by a craving for physical pleasures, jealousy, feelings of honor, etc. without realizing that all these goals are essentially meaningless and distance us from true perfection. A world united in the desire to attain knowledge of the one God, according to Maimonides, is one in which people will no longer practice so much evil against others and against themselves. The problem of evil, thus, is one that demands of us to stop asking why God does not do more to create a better world for human beings, but what we should be doing in order to create such a world and achieve true human perfection. On the issue of divine providence Maimonides at first glance adopts a radical interventionist view of God’s activ- ity in the world. Nothing, either good or bad, happens to interpretation of Maimonides’ position is reinforced by his discussion of the book of Job which he treats as a philosophical parable. Satan represents the evils associ- ated with matter that cannot affect the immortal soul of the individual. Job finally attains enlightenment on the nature of the world order, realizing that all the evils affect- ing him are inevitable aspects of God’s wondrous created order. It is left to the individual to view these evils in the proper perspective and pursue what truly has lasting value – the true understanding of God and the world. Maimonides concludes his treatise reiterating his phil- osophic approach to human perfection. He also alludes to the philosophic view that only those who attain the per- fection of the intellect attain immortality, their intellect existing in its state of contemplation of the eternal truths through eternity. The ending of the Guide introduces an additional aspect of human perfection. Those attaining intellectual human perfection should also engage in extending their perfection to improving the surrounding of God’s society, just as God’s perfection emanates to all existents by ordering their circumstances in an ideal manner, thereby extending the divine goodness to all that exists. Imitatio Dei lies in living simultaneously a life of active contemplation and one of governing others in accordance with the perfection one has attained. however, See also: ▶ Aristotle, Arabic ▶ Divine Law ▶ al-Fārābı̄, Abū Nasr ▶ al-Ġazālı̄, Abū Hāmid Muh: ammad ▶ Ibn ˙ ˙ Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ (Avicenna) ▶ Natural Philosophy, Jewish ▶ Philosophical Theology, Jewish ▶ Political Philosophy, Arabic ▶ Political Philosophy, Jewish ▶ Proofs of the Exis- tence of God ▶ Theology Versus Philosophy in the Arab World ▶ Thomas Aquinas that the Bibliography lifestyle which Primary Sources Maimonides Moses (1963) The guide of the perplexed (trans: Pines S). University of Chicago Press, Chicago little and Secondary Sources The list of secondary sources dealing with aspects of Maimonides’ thought is exceptionally large. The last few years in particular have witnessed the appearance of numerous fine articles and collections of individual to articles in wake of the 800th anniversary of his death. The most comprehensive bibliographical list of articles published in recent years is available in the Rambi web catalogue: http://jnul.huji.ac. il/rambi/ (subject: Maimonides). For the most serious recent studies of Maimonides’ biography and literary corpus see: Davidson H (2005) Moses Maimonides: The man and his works. Oxford University Press, Oxford Kraemer J (2008) Maimonides: The life and world of one of civilization’s greatest minds. Doubleday, New York al-Mubashshir ibn Fātik M 815 in-depth treatment of Ibn al-Haytham and was a member of the court of the Caliph al-Hākim (r. 386–411/996–1021). Although we ˙ have no knowledge of the date of Mubashshir’s birth, it seems unlikely that he ever encountered al-Hākim except ˙ as a child. His association with the Fatimid court was probably a sufficient reason in the eyes of Ibn Taymiyya for condemning him as a bat:ı̄nı̄ (Ismāʿı̄lı̄ Shı̄ʿite) (see Ibn Taymiyya, al-Fatāwā al-kubrā, vol 3, p 496). In Cairo, Mubashshir ibn Fātik studied mathematics and astronomy with Ibn al-Haytham (d. c. 430/1039) whose Kitāb al-Manāzir (Book of Optics) was a major ˙ revolution in optics after Ptolemy’s Almagest. Mubashshir also studied with the astronomer, physician, and philoso- pher Ibn Ridwān (d. 461/1068), one of the main scientists ˙ of the Fatimid court. Ibn Ridwān authored commentaries ˙ on Hippocrates, Aristotle, and Galen, and had access to some of al-Fārābı̄’s books (see the lengthy bibliography given by Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a, in his Tabaqāt al-at:ibbā᾽). ˙ The edition of The Choicest Maxims was completed by ‘Abd al-Rah: mān Badawı̄ in Madrid in 1958. He gave the book the Spanish title ‘‘Bocados de Oro,’’ which he took from the medieval translation realized in 1257 for Alfonso the Wise (Alfonso X of Castile, r. 1252–1284). Rosenthal felt offended that Badawı̄ had double-crossed him in achieving the edition and wrote a bitter review (see M Rosenthal 1960–1961). In the Arab world, the book was rarely available in libraries, as it had been published in Franco’s Spain and not diffused properly. These are among the reasons that have left The Choicest Maxims little- studied to this day. To the references given by Rosenthal (1960–1961) in what remains a fundamental article for the study of Mubashshir’s works, Ibn al-Qift:ı̄, Akhbār al-h: ukamā’ [269 f. Müller-Lippert]; Yāqūt, Irshād 6.241 Margoliouth [= vol 5, p 227, n 934, ‘Abbās]; Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a Tabaqāt ˙ al-at:ibbā [2.98–99 Müller, Wiedemann 1906:176], one should add Ismāʿı̄l Bashā al-Bābānı̄ (or Ismāʿı̄l al-Bagh- dādı̄), the seventeenth-century author of the Hadiyat al-ʿārifı̄n, a Continuation (Dhayl) to Hajji Khalı̄fa’s Kashf ˙ al-zunūn, who lists twice as many titles as Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a ˙ and gives 480/1087 as the date of Mubashshir’s death. Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a quotes the following titles: Kitāb al-was:āyā wa-l-amthāl wa-l-mu᾽jaz min muh: kam al-aqwāl; Kitāb mukhtār al-h: ikam wa-mah: asin al-kilam; Kitāb al-bidāya fı̄ l-mant:iq, and Kitāb fı̄ l-t:ibb. Al-Bābānı̄, in the Hadiyat al-ʿārifı̄n, mentions the same titles (with a variant for the last one, which he quotes as the Asrār al-t:ibb) and adds the following works: al-Is:t:ilāh: āt al-t:ibbiyya; al-Tanbı̄h wa-l- tabyı̄n li-mas:ālih: al-dunyā wa-l-dı̄n; Sharh: al-ʿUnwān; Sharh: kitāb al-adwiyya al-murakabba li-Jālinūs; Sharh: mufradāt Diyusqūrı̄dis; Kitāb al-nihāya fı̄ l-h: ikma; apophthegms in particular were still favored in Egyptian Christian literature, the scheme, here, is reminiscent of Diogenes Laertius’ Lives of the Philosophers, which ‘Abd al-Rah: mān Badawı̄ considered was one of the sources used by Ibn Fātik. Recent research on the Diogenes chapter led Oliver Overwien (2005) to suggest that Mubashshir rather draws on sources that were also used by Diogenes Laertius. A trace of the use of late-antique Greek literature is the frequent use of epistolary novels (as in the Solon, Hippoc- rates, Aristotle, Alexander, and Galen chapters) (see Cottrell 2004–2005). Moritz Steinschneider (1893:28–29), noted that Ibn Fātik has used directly or indirectly a lost work by Hunayn ˙ ibn Ish: āq, the Ādāb al-falāsifa, also known as Nawādir al- falāsifa (Wise Sayings of the Philosophers), of which a Hebrew and a Spanish translation were known in his time, as well as two Arabic manuscripts then unpublished. Steinschneider also remarked that the thirteenth-century physician Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a used Mubashshir (whom he explicitly quotes from) for his chapters on Hippocrates, Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Rosenthal (1960–1961:145–147) gave a complete concordance table of these parallels in his article on The Choicest Maxims. Rosenthal also minimized the use of Hunayn ibn Ish: āq by ˙ Ibn Fātik, rather unconvincingly (see Rosenthal 1960– 1961:135). Badawı̄ did follow Steinschneider on that point in his introduction to his edition of The Choicest Maxims, where he also emphasized the importance of the Alexander Novel for the success of the medieval translations. The Alexander Novel is among the most extensive pieces of the books, spread out in the chapters related to Alexander the Great, Aristotle and Diogenes chapters. It offers quite striking parallels with the Pseudo-Callisthe- nes’ hellenistic novel, but does not preserve the Egyptian features of Pseudo-Callisthenes’ work. On the contrary, it gives to the Persian king Darius the role of a romantic hero betrayed by his own people, a man who put all his trust in Alexander, to whom he gives his daughter Roxane as a bride. Mubashshir’s Alexander Novel does not share the and ‘‘successions.’’ Melt- features of the known Syriac versions, but a Syriac inter- mediary is not to be excluded. The translation method is that of the calque, including for some of the names (Ruqiyya – the Semitic root ∗RQY designates the idea of ascension and elevation – is given as the name of Alexan- der’s mother, instead of Olympias). The precise relation of The Choicest Maxims’ extracts of both the Alexander Novel and the Alexander Letters with Hunayn’s Ādāb al-falāsifa’s ˙ use of similar extracts remains to be investigated. A manuscript of Mubashshir ibn Fātik’s The Choicest Maxims reached the court of Alfonso the Wise al-Mubashshir ibn Fātik M 817 Alexander Novel constitutes the core of The Choicest Maxims gives one of the reasons of its success. In the East too, important authors such as Ibn Abı̄ Us:aybi‘a and al-Shahrazūrı̄ made a thorough use of the text, assuring Ibn Fātik a popularity which led the book to be known as far as Iran and India (through al-Shahrazūrı̄’s anonymous lengthy quotations in his Kitāb nuzhat al-arwāh: , which was further on translated into Persian). In the eastern Christian realm as well the book enjoyed some fame, as can be witnessed from the incomplete Berlin Manuscript (MS Or. quart. 785) showing two bilingual seals (Syriac/ Arabic), possibly originating from the Mar Mattai mon- astery in Mossul. This universal diffusion was the very object of the book, showing the ultimate journeys of wisdom through time and ages. See also: ▶ Doxographies, Graeco-Arabic ▶ Galen, Arabic ▶ Hermes Trismegistus ▶ Ismāʿı̄lı̄ Philosophical Tradition ▶ Mirrors for Princes ▶ al-Shahrazūrı̄, Muh: ammad ibn Mah: mūd Shams al-Dı̄n Arabic title Bibliography Primary Sources Hunayn b. Ish: āq (1406/1985) Ādāb al-falāsifa, ikhtas:arahu Muh: ammad b. ˙ ʿAlı̄ b. Ibrāhı̄m b. Ah: mad b. Muh: ammad al-Ans:arı̄, ed. ʿAbd M al-Rah: mān al-Badawı̄. Maʿhad al-makht:ūt:āt al-ʿarabiyya, Koweit City Hunayn b. Ish: āq (1896a) Sefer Musra Haphilosophim (‘Sinnsprüche der ˙ Philosophen’) aus dem Arabischen Honein ibn Ishâk ins Hebräische ˙ übersetzt von Jehuda ben Salomo Alcharisi, ed. Loewenthal A. J. Kauffmann, Frankfurt-am-Main Hunayn b. Ish: āq (1896b) Sinnsprüche der Philosophen nach der ˙ hebräischen Übersetzung Charisi’s ins Deutsche übertragen und erläutert (intr. and trans.) Loewenthal A. S. Calvary, Berlin Hunayn b. Ish: āq (1971) ed. Sturm H. The Libro de los buenos proverbios. ˙ A critical edition, PhD dissertation, University of North Carolina, Lexington Ibn al-Qift:ı̄ (1903) Ikhbār al-ʿulamā’ fi akhbār al-h: ukamā’, ed. Müller A, Lippert J. Dieterich’sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, Leipzig Ibn Taymiyya (1408/1987) Al-Fatawı̄ā al-kubrā (kitāb al-h: udūd, 754– 108), vol 3, ed. Muh: ammad ʿAbd al-Qādir ʿAt:ā῾, Mus:t:afā ʿAbd al- Qādir ʿAt:ā᾽. Dār al-kutub al-ʿilmiyya, Beirut Ismāʿı̄lı̄ Bashā al-Bābānı̄ (also: Ismāʿı̄lı̄ Pasha Baġdādı̄) (1945–1947) Īdāh: ˙ al-maknūn fı̄ l-dhayl ʿalā Kashf al-zunūn ʿan asāmı̄ al-kutub ˙ wa-l-funūn. Istanbul Mubashshir ibn Fātik (1877) The dictes and sayings of the philosophers. A facsimile reproduction of the first book printed by William Caxton in 1477. Elliot Stock, London (repr. Diploma Press, 1974) Mubashshir ibn Fātik (1936) ed. Schofield ME. The dicts and sayings of the philosophers : a middle English version by Stephen Scrope. PhD dissertation (containing the critical edition of Scrope’s version), University of Philadelphia Mubashshir ibn Fātik (1941) ed. Bühler CF. The dicts and sayings of the philosophers : the translation (from French), made by Stephen Scrope, William Worcester and an anonymous translator. Londen (Early English text society. original series n 211) Oro (Mujtār al-h: ikam) Rosenthal F (1960–1961) Al-Mubashshir Ibn Fātik: prolegomena to an ed. ʿAbd al-Rah: mān al- abortive edition. Oriens 13:132–158 Rosenthal F (1975) The classical heritage in Islam (Engl. trans. of Id. Das Fortleben der Antike im Islam. Artemis, Zürich 1965) of the Spanish text), Bonn Steinschneider M (1893) Zwölftes Beiheft zum Centralblatt für arabischer Gelehreter. Bibliothekswesen. Otto Harrassowitz, Leipzig (first published sepa- rately under the title Die arabischen Übersetzungen aus dem (Irshād al-alibbā᾽ ilā ma῾rifat Griechischen, and later reprinted with other studies under the same Dār al-ġarb al-islāmı̄, Beirut title in Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, Graz, 1960) Strohmaier G (1970) Ethical sentences and anecdotes of Greek philoso- phers in Arabic tradition. Corresp Orient 11:463–471 Badawı̄, Los Bocados de Ibn Fātik, Los des ‘Dits des philosophes’ de de l’École des chartes Music, Medieval wa Rawdat al-Afrâh de T. J. H. MCCARTHY composition et sources. New College of Florida Études, Section des sciences Sarasota, FL history and doctrine. Cambridge USA Zeven eeuwen tot Sūrı̄. PhD ˙ Abstract The philosophical background to music in the Middle Ages moralium antiquorum. In: dei Lincei, Anno was ultimately derived from Classical ideas about music, its rudiments, and its place in society. The fact that early medieval thinkers in the West looked in the first place to di Scienze, Lettere ed ancient learning to codify their newly emerging ecclesias- tical song (which would ultimately become known as by Méthode du médecin, de ʿAlı̄ b. Orientaliste, 20). them as ‘‘Gregorian chant’’) led to a conflict between the theory of ancient music and the reality of music in the translation: a study of Middle Ages. The uneasy cohabitation of ancient philo- Society Series, sophical and cosmological thought with the new and different practical music of the medieval West is an ever- : nature and scope. present feature of medieval theoretical literature on music. The extent and importance of this conflict varies from century to century and according to the aims of the the- du Roman d’Alexandre. oretical literature in question. dell’ereditá classica ‘Romanzo di Alessandro’ di studio (Roma- Classical Sources dell’Orso, Alessandria, The complex epistemology of music in the Middle Ages is due initially to the diverse Classical sources that sagesse orientale [Book- influenced its history. Perhaps the most influential of the de Oro]. Revista del Classical authors was Boethius (c. 480–c. 525), whose De 9 des Claudius Ptolemäus institutione arithmetica and De institutione musica (ed. Friedlein 1867) offered to medieval thinkers the most detailed account of ancient thought on the closely ‘‘Kitâb Adâb al- related disciplines of arithmetic and music. Both of these in der überarbeitung des Muh: ammad treatises circulated widely from the ninth century onward, Philosophischen G. Kreysing, Leipzig while an extensive corpus of Carolingian glosses and com- mentaries points to active engagement with these texts Steiner, Stuttgart (ed. Bernhard and Bower 1993, 1994, 1996). Music, for Music, Medieval M 819 influences from the earlier commentaries of Iamblichus and Porphyry (ed. Waszink 1975). Calcidius’ translation and commentary was extremely popular in the Middle Ages, but since Calcidius had omitted those sections dealing with man, it was understood primarily as a cosmological exposition of the origins and order of the universe. Calcidius was not, however, the only inter- mediary through which Platonic thought reached the Middle Ages. Boethius had sought to harmonize the phi- losophy of Plato and Aristotle, and while he was practically the sole means of transmission for a selection of Aristotle’s works until the late twelfth century, he simultaneously perpetuated much of Plato’s teaching. The influence of Plato is to be seen most vividly in Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy (ed. Moreschini 2005), which became one of the medieval period’s best-known works of literature. Plato was also behind much of De institutione arithmetica and De institutione musica. To Calcidius and Boethius should be added the late-Roman authors Macrobius and Martianus Capella, who also contributed much to the medieval reception of Plato. Macrobius’ Commentarius in Somnium Scipionis (ed. Willis 1970) was very popular in the early and central Middle Ages, while of the nine books of Martianus Capella’s De nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii (ed. Willis 1983), books 7 and 9 were most M relevant for music. As with Boethius, the survival of numerous ninth- and tenth-century gloss collections on Macrobius and Martianus Capella points to Carolingian scholars’ engagement with these authors (White 1981; Teeuwen 2002). Although a number of Aristotle’s logical works were available to the early medieval West through the trans- lations and commentaries of Boethius, it was not until the end of the twelfth century that his remaining logical works – as well as those on ethics, metaphysics, and the natural sciences – became available in Latin translations. The study of Aristotle thrived in the medieval univer- sities, with Aristotelian methodology and terminology appearing in music treatises from the thirteenth century onward. Nevertheless, Aristotle did not offer to medieval thinkers a useful philosophy of music and thus his influ- ence is visible primarily in the introduction of new procedures of argumentation or his citation as a new authority in support of one or other position. The Early and Central Middle Ages The music theory sources of the early and central Middle Ages show that the main preoccupation of western thinkers was with practical music, specifically music as the vehicle for the liturgy of the Church. They were thus at odds with Boethius’ approach to music. The shift in For the south-German circle music was a reflexion of natural order. Its theory was practical, growing out of the emphasis placed upon proper regulation of the liturgy by the Gorze monastic reform movement. Frutolf of Michelsberg summed it up thus in his treatise entitled Breviarium de musica: ‘‘music is the science of singing well through long reflexion and constant practice’’ (ed. Vivell 1919). It is the science of commanding correctly all the elements affecting the performance, analysis, and composition of Gregorian chant, the primary vehicle of the opus Dei and the liturgy of the Latin West. This defi- nition of music represents a subtle and important reworking of Boethius, for whom only the criticism of music was a worthwhile pursuit: the ideal musician was now he who practised flawlessly because he understood completely. Thus Theoger of Metz was described as ‘‘excel- lently skilled in all disciplines of the liberal arts, consum- mate in music and outstanding in its performance’’ (Trithemius, Annales Hirsaugienses, 1511–1514). The cen- tral importance of music to intellectual life required that it be a true reflexion of God’s divinely ordained universe. Thus, for the south-German circle, music’s cosmological and philosophical aspects merged with its more practical aspects. Bern of Reichenau incorporated Neoplatonic thought into music theory in his treatise Prologus in tonarium (written between 1021 and 1036; ed. Rausch 1999). Bern emphasized the significance of the number four, which was vital to the cosmological exposition of Timaeus, and which validated the theory of the four modes having their final notes (D E F G) in the tetrachord of the finales (D E F G). He wrote that ‘‘from its [the tetrachord of the finales] four notes, the origin of all modes or tones can be seen to proceed,’’ just as the fabric of the Platonic universe proceeds from the four elements. This statement also hints at the important Platonic concept of unity. Bern used Macrobius (who had glossed Plato with the influential comment that unity was the fount and origin of all num- bers) to argue that the tetrachord of the finales was also the fount and origin of the modes. His arguments, retaining their Neoplatonic terminology, were developed by later members of the south-German circle, notably William of Hirsau and Theoger of Metz. They took care to situate the Neoplatonic imagery in a Christian context, as they were doubtless aware of the potential dangers of ‘‘pagan litera- ture’’ (a contemporary topos of some influence). The response of the south-German circle to the Platonic inheritance also involved the conscious use of Platonic metaphors. The idea of ‘‘generation’’ was partic- ularly important, with the theorists using verbs like generare and procreare to describe the natural origins of Music, Medieval M 821 The High and Late Middle Ages The tension between the practical and cosmological aspects of music revealed itself in different ways with the development and expansion of the European universities. Some historians have looked to university statutes to assess the place of music in the curriculum (Carpenter 1958). In Paris, the statutes offer little information on the subjects taught, but other universities modeled on Paris – notably German universities – specified musical studies in their curricula. Anecdotal evidence from former university students sometimes suggests that music was taught: Johann von Jenzenstein, who studied at Paris from 1375 to 1376, attests to hearing lectures on music as a cosmo- logical science. In Oxford, Boethius was a prescribed ele- ment of the arts curriculum from at least 1431 until the sixteenth century. Yet despite the persistence of music as a formal curricular requirement, one cannot but form the impression that it was not generally considered an impor- tant discipline. Later evidence from Oxford and Cam- bridge, both of which instituted degrees in music during the fifteenth century for which there were no residence requirements, suggests that these degrees were seen as the poor relation of degrees in ‘‘proper’’ academic subjects. Nevertheless, the introduction and assimilation of Aristotelian texts directed renewed attention to the nature M of music as a discipline. The second book of Aristotle’s Physics, which deals with the classification of astrology, music, and optics was formative in inspiring opinions as to the nature of music. Avicenna (Abū ‘Alı̄ al-Husain ibn ‘Abdallāh ibn Sı̄nā; 973/980–1037) and Averrores (Abū l-Walı̄d Muhammad ibn Rushd; 1126–1192) were among the first scholars to comment on this matter; they later were joined by Robert Grosseteste (Commentarios in VIII libros physicorum Aristotelis), Albert the Great (Physicorum libri VIII), Thomas Aquinas (In II physicorum), and Duns Scotus (Quaestiones in octo libros physicorum Aristotelis). Aquinas referred to the problem of disciplines such as music, which seemed to confound traditional categories, as the problem of the scientiae mediae. A number of surviving university texts address the specific problem of music – including Radulphus Brito’s Questiones communes mathematice, the Questiones mathematicales by Ralph the Breton, and questions 16 and 17 of Peter of Auvergne’s sixth Quodlibet (which relies on Aristotle’s theories of the soul and judgment as outlined in De anima and the Nichomachean Ethics). Scholasticism undoubtedly influenced the literature of music theory. An early example is the early twelfth- century German treatise Quaestiones in musica (ed. Steglich 1911), which anticipates the quaestiones genre that would become so familiar in the later French schools conservative commentator James of Liège was appalled by the musical practices of the ars nova: his vast Speculum musicae (c. 1330) cites the relevant Greek and Roman authorities to refute de Muris and de Vitry. The disagreements over musical practice in the four- teenth century highlight how, as the Middle Ages progressed, music theory became more practical. Techni- cal issues dominate to the exclusion of philosophical and cosmological issues. All-round scholars comment upon music more rarely. Where they do – such as Thomas Aquinas, for example – their contribution offers little beyond the rudimentary. Thus, although the members of the south-German circle were able to make important contributions to music theory because music was an important part of their lives, later thinkers and philoso- phers were not because music had become a specialization in which certain practitioners were the experts. Scholars such as Jehan de Muris, who could bridge this gap, must be seen, therefore, as isolated examples. Although some phi- losophers would continue to speculate on music as a cosmological science, the greatest utility of ‘‘philosophy’’ would be in support of this or that technical practice. valu- See also: ▶ Aristotelianism in the Greek, Latin, Syriac, Arabic, and Hebrew Traditions ▶ Augustine ▶ Boethius ▶ Carolingian Renaissance ▶ al-Fārābı̄, Abū Nasr ▶ Hugh ˙ of St. Victor ▶ Ibn Sı̄nā, Abū ʿAlı̄ (Avicenna) ▶ Isidore of Seville ▶ John Duns Scotus ▶ Liberal Arts ▶ Peter of Auvergne ▶ Platonism ▶ Radulphus Brito ▶ Robert Grosseteste ▶ Thomas Aquinas ▶ Universities and Philosophy (c. 1290–c. Bibliography Primary Sources Aribo (1951) De musica. In: Smits van Waesberghe J (ed) Aribonis De musica. Corpus scriptorum de musica 2. American Institute of Musicology, Rome Augustine of Hippo (2002) De musica. In: Jacobsson M (ed) Aurelius Augustinus De musica liber VI: a critical edition with a translation and an introduction. Studia Latina Stockholmiensia 47. 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