The Portable Medieval Reader

by James Bruce Ross

  Moreover. Man has a natural desire to know the causes of whatever he sees: wherefore through wondering at what they saw, and ignoring its cause, men first began to philosophize, and when they had discovered the cause they were at rest. Nor do they cease inquiring until they come to the first cause; and then do we deem ourselves to know perfectly when we know the first cause. Therefore man naturally desires, as his last end, to know the first cause. But God is the first cause of all. Therefore man’s last end is to know God....

  Now the last end of man and of any intelligent substance is called happiness or beatitude; for it is this that every intelligent substance desires as its last end, and for its own sake alone. Therefore the last beatitude or happiness of any intelligent substance is to know God.

  Hence it is said (Matthew v, 8): “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God”: and (John XVII, 3): “This is eternal life: that they may know Thee, the only true God.” Aristotle agrees with this statement (10 Ethic, VII) when he says that man’s ultimate happiness is “contemplative, in regard to his contemplating the highest object of contemplation.” ...

  It remains for us to inquire in what kind of knowledge of God the ultimate happiness of the intellectual substance consists. For there is a certain general and confused knowledge of God, which is in almost all men, whether from the fact that, as some think, the existence of God, like other principles of demonstration, is self-evident, as we have stated in the First Book: or, as seems nearer to the truth, because by his natural reason, man is able at once to arrive at some knowledge of God. For seeing that natural things are arranged in a certain order—since there cannot be order without a cause of order—men, for the most part, perceive that there is one who arranges in order the things that we see. But who or of what kind this cause of order may be, or whether there be but one, cannot be gathered from this general consideration: even, so, when we see a man in motion, and performing other works, we perceive that in him there is a cause of these operations, which is not in other things, and we give this cause the name of “soul,” but without knowing yet what the soul is, whether it be a body, or how it brings about operations in question.

  Now, this knowledge of God cannot possibly suffice for happiness....

  There is yet another knowledge of God, in one respect superior to the knowledge we have been discussing, namely that whereby God is known to men through faith. In this respect it surpasses the knowledge of God through demonstration, because by faith we know certain things about God, which are so sublime that reason cannot reach them by means of demonstration, as we have stated at the beginning of this work. But not even in this knowledge of God can man’s ultimate happiness consist.

  For happiness is the intellect’s perfect operation, as already declared. But in knowledge by faith the operation of the intellect is found to be most imperfect as regards that which is on the part of the intellect: although it is the most perfect on the part of the object: for the intellect in believing does not grasp the object of its assent. Therefore neither does man’s happiness consist in this knowledge of God.

  Again. It has been shown that ultimate happiness does not consist chiefly in an act of will. Now in knowledge by faith the will has the leading place: for the intellect assents by faith to things proposed to it, because it wills, and not through being constrained by the evidence of their truth. Therefore man’s final happiness does not consist in this knowledge....

  Seeing that man’s ultimate happiness does not consist in that knowledge of God whereby He is known by all or many in a vague kind of opinion, nor again in that knowledge of God whereby He is known in science through demonstration; nor in that knowledge whereby He is known through faith, as we have proved above: and seeing that it is not possible in this life to arrive at a higher knowledge of God in His essence, or at least so that we understand other separate substances, and thus know God through that which is nearest to Him, so to say, as we have proved; and since we must place our ultimate happiness in some kind of knowledge of God, as we have shown; it is impossible for man’s happiness to be in this life.

  Again. Man’s last end is the term of his natural appetite, so that when he has obtained it, he desires nothing more: because if he still has a movement towards something, he has not yet reached an end wherein to be at rest. Now, this cannot happen in this life: since the more man understands, the more is the desire to understand increased in him—this being natural to man—unless perhaps someone there be who understands all things: and in this life this never did nor can happen to anyone that was a mere man; seeing that in this life we are unable to know separate substances which in themselves are most intelligible, as we have proved. Therefore man’s ultimate happiness cannot possibly be in this life.

  Besides. Whatever is in motion towards an end has a natural desire to be established and at rest therein: hence a body does not move away from the place towards which it has a natural movement, except by a violent movement which is contrary to that appetite. Now happiness is the last end which man desires naturally. Therefore it is his natural desire to be established in happiness. Consequently unless together with happiness he acquires a state of immobility, he is not yet happy, since his natural desire is not yet at rest. When therefore a man acquires happiness, he also acquires stability and rest; so that all agree in conceiving stability as a necessary condition of happiness: hence the philosopher says (1 Ethic, x): “We do not look upon the happy man as a kind of chameleon.” Now, in this life there is no sure stability; since, however happy a man may be, sickness and misfortune may come upon him, so that he is hindered in the operation, whatever it be, in which his happiness consists. Therefore man’s ultimate happiness cannot be in this life....

  Further. All admit that happiness is a perfect good: else it would not bring rest to the appetite. Now perfect good is that which is wholly free from any admixture of evil: just as that which is perfectly white is that which is entirely free from any admixture of black. But man cannot be wholly free from evils in this state of life; not only from evils of the body, such as hunger, thirst, heat, cold, and the like, but also from evils of the soul. For no one is there who at times is not disturbed by inordinate passion; who sometimes does not go beyond the mean, wherein virtue consists, either in excess or in deficiency; who is not deceived in some thing or another; or at least ignores what he would wish to know, or feels doubtful about an opinion of which he would like to be certain. Therefore no man is happy in this life.

  Again. Man naturally shuns death, and is sad about it: not only shunning it now when he feels its presence, but also when he thinks about it. But man, in this life, cannot obtain not to die. Therefore it is not possible for man to be happy in this life....

  Again. The natural desire cannot be void; since nature does nothing in vain. But nature’s desire would be void if it could never be fulfilled. Therefore man’s natural desire can be fulfilled. But not in this life, as we have shown. Therefore it must be fulfilled after this life. Therefore man’s ultimate happiness is after this life.

  Besides. As long as a thing is in motion towards perfection it has not reached its last end. Now in the knowledge of truth all men are ever in motion and tending towards perfection: because those who follow, make discoveries in addition to those made by their predecessors, as stated in 2 Metaph. Therefore in the knowledge of truth man is not situated as though he had arrived at his last end. Since then as Aristotle himself shows (10 Ethic, VII) man’s ultimate happiness in this life consists apparently in speculation, whereby he seeks the knowledge of truth, we cannot possibly allow that man obtains his last end in this life....

  For these and like reasons Alexander and Averroes held that man’s ultimate happiness does not consist in human knowledge obtained through speculative sciences, but in that which results from conjunction with a separate substance, which conjunction they deemed possible to man in this life. But as Aristotle realized that man has no knowledge in this life other than that which he obtains through speculati
ve sciences, he maintained that man attains to happiness, not perfect, but proportionate to his capacity.

  Hence it becomes sufficiently clear how these great minds suffered from being so straitened on every side. We, however, will avoid these straits if we suppose, in accordance with the foregoing arguments, that man is able to reach perfect happiness after this life, since man has an immortal soul; and that in that state his soul will understand in the same way as separate substances understand, as we proved in the Second Book.

  Therefore man’s ultimate happiness will consist in that knowledge of God which he possesses after this life; a knowledge similar to that by which separate substances know him. Hence our Lord promises us a “reward . . . in heaven” (Matthew v, 12) and (Matthew XXII, 30) states that the saints “shall be as the angels”: who always see God in heaven (Matthew XVIII, 10).

  From Summa contra gentiles, book m, trans. English Dominican Fathers (London: Bums, Oates, and Washbourne, 1928).

  OnLearned Ignorance

  NICHOLAS OF CUSA

  Fifteenth century

  HOW “TO KNOW” IS “NOT TO KNOW”

  WE SEE that, by divine grace, there is within all things a certain natural desire to be better, in the manner which the natural condition of each one permits, and that those beings in whom judgment is innate act toward this end and have the necessary instruments; this is in accord with the goal of knowledge so that the longing for it may not be vain, and that it may be able to reach repose in the desired equilibrium of its own nature. If, by chance, it happens otherwise, that comes necessarily from an accident, as when sickness warps the taste or simple opinion warps reasoning. For this reason we say that the sound and free intellect which insatiably, from an innate quest, longs to attain the true by examining all, knows the true when it apprehends it in an amorous embrace, for we do not doubt the perfect truth of that which all sound minds are unable to reject.

  Now all those who investigate judge of the uncertain by comparing it to a reliable presupposition by a system of proportion. All inquiry, therefore, is comparative, using the means of proportion so that as long as the objects of inquiry can be compared to the presupposition by a close proportional reduction, the judgment of apprehension is easy; but if we have need of many intermediaries, then difficulty and trouble arise. This is well known in mathematics where the first propositions are easily referred to the first principles which are very well known, but the later ones, since they need the intermediary of the first, present much more difficulty. All inquiry, therefore, consists in comparative proportion, easy or difficult, and that is why the infinite which as infinite escapes all proportion, is unknown.

  Now proportion, since in any thing it expresses agreement together with difference, cannot be understood without number. Number, consequently, includes all that is susceptible to proportion. Number, therefore, does not create proportion in quantity only but in all those things which in any way, by substance or accident, can agree or differ. Hence Pythagoras judged with vigour that everything was constituted and understood through the force of numbers. But the precision of combinations in material things and the exact adaptation of the known to the unknown so far surpass human reason that it seemed to Socrates that he knew nothing except his ignorance, and the very wise Solomon affirmed that all things are difficult and inexplicable in language. And another man of divine spirit says that wisdom is hidden, and also the seat of intelligence, from the eyes of the living. If, therefore, it is true, as likewise the very profound Aristotle affirms in his First Philosophy, that such a difficulty befalls us in the things most manifest in nature, like owls trying to see the sun, since the divine in us is certainly not vain, we need to know that we are ignorant. If we can attain this end completely, we shall attain “learned ignorance.” For nothing becomes a man, even the most zealous, more perfectly in learning than to be found very learned in ignorance itself, which is his characteristic, and anyone will be the more learned the more he knows his own ignorance. On this goal of learned ignorance I have assumed the labour of writing a few words.

  PRELIMINARY EXPLANATION OF WHAT FOLLOWS

  Before treating the greatest doctrine, that of ignorance, I consider it necessary to take up the nature of “the quality of being maximum” [maximitas]. Now I call “maximum” a thing than which nothing can be greater. Plenitude, in truth, is appropriate to one; that is why unity coincides with “the quality of being maximum,” and it is also entity. Now if such unity is absolute universally, beyond all relation and all concreteness, it is clear, since it is the absolute “quality of being maximum,” that nothing is opposed to it. And so the absolute maximum is one, which is all, in which all is, because it is the maximum. And since nothing is opposed to it, with it at the same time coincides the minimum; wherefore it is thus in everything. And because it is absolute, then it is actually all possible being, undergoing no restrictions from things and imposing them on all.

  This maximum which by the indubitable faith of all nations is accepted also as God, I shall, in my first book on human reason, labour to seek, though incomprehensibly, led by that One who, alone, lives in inaccessible light.

  In the second place, as the absolute quality of being maximum is absolute entity, by which all things are what they are, so universal unity of being comes from that which is called absolute maximum, and therefore exists concretely as universe whose unity, indeed, is restricted in plurality without which it cannot be. This maximum, indeed, although in its universal unity it embraces everything, so that all which comes from the absolute is in it and it is in all, does not, however, have subsistence outside of plurality, in which it is, because it does not exist without concreteness from which it cannot be freed. Concerning this maximum, which appears as the universe, I shall add some remarks in my second book.

  In the third place, the maximum will show the necessity of a third order of consideration. For, as the universe subsists concretely only in plurality, we shall seek in the multiple things themselves, the maximum one, in whom the universe subsists most greatly and most perfectly both in its realization and in its end. And since this universe unites itself with the absolute, which is the universal goal, because it is the end which is most perfect and beyond all our capacities, I shall add below on this maximum, at the same time concrete and absolute, which we call by the name forever blessed of Jesus, some words as Jesus Himself shall inspire. He who wishes to attain the meaning of what I am going to say, must raise the intelligence above the force of the words themselves, rather than insist on the properties of words, which cannot be adapted properly to such great intellectual mysteries. It is necessary to use in a transcendental fashion the examples which my hand will trace, so that the reader, leaving aside sensible things, should rise easily to simple intellectuality. I have applied myself to seeking this way with ordinary talents, as clearly as I could, avoiding any roughness of style, to lay bare the root of learned ignorance, making it manifest at once although not with the comprehensible precision of truth.

  THAT PRECISE TRUTH IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE

  Because it is clear in itself that there is no proportion of the infinite to the finite, from this it is most clear that where one finds something which exceeds and something which is exceeded, one does not arrive at the simple maximum, since what exceeds and what is exceeded are finite objects while the simple maximum is necessarily infinite. No matter what has been given, if it is not the simple maximum itself, it is clear that a greater one can be given.

  And because we find that equality permits degrees, so that a certain thing is more equal to one than to another, according to the points of agreement and difference, in genus, in species, of place, of influence, and of time, with similar things, it is clear that one cannot find two or more objects similar and equal to such a point that objects more similar still can not exist in infinite number. Let the measures and the objects measured be as equal as can be, there will always be differences. Therefore, our finite intellect cannot, by means of similitude, unders
tand with precision the truth of things. For truth, existing in a certain indivisible nature, is not either more or less, and all that is not true itself is not able to measure it with precision; thus what is not circle cannot measure the circle whose being consists in something indivisible. Therefore the understanding, which is not truth, never attains truth with such precision that it cannot be attained more precisely by the infinite; for it is to truth as the polygon is to the circle; the greater the number of angles inscribed in the polygon, the more it will be like the circle, but nevertheless it is never made equal to the circle, even if one multiplies the angles infinitely, unless it breaks down into identity with the circle. It is clear, therefore, that we know nothing concerning the true except that we know it to be incomprehensible precisely as it is; for truth being absolute necessity, which cannot be more or less than it is, presents itself to our understanding as possibility. Therefore, the quiddity of things, which is the truth of beings, is unattainable in its purity; all philosophers have sought it, none has found it, such as it is; and the more we shall be profoundly learned in this ignorance, the more we shall approach truth itself.