De locis theologicis

I think I explained sufficiently in the preceding source how arguments are drawn by a theologian from philosophy and from natural reason in general. It remains for me to pursue the other matters that concern the authority of philosophers and human history. These are the only two sources left among those proposed at the beginning, and I will now undertake to discuss them, after saying a few things about my purpose and judgment. Although our books concern not only scholastic debate and disputation but also contain much else useful to those who probe inward and hidden teachings, I sometimes fear that some good men dislike the name of the schools and wonder why I spend so much effort and time in explaining them. As long as the scholastic enterprise was carried on by those who used to encourage young people to study scholastic theology, I devoted all my care and thought to finding some way to free myself from scholastic disputations. I did not think my work was in any way necessary to scholastic theologians. But now that the university has lost those great men, and some of those remaining who ought to help defend this subject have abandoned these studies as dry and contentious, or at least avoided them as laborious and troublesome, while the Lutherans have condemned them as harmful, I judged that I should not give myself over to the leisure I had so long and earnestly

hoped for. And so, having been engaged in these studies from the beginning of my life, I thought I could serve the Christian commonwealth most honorably if I restrained my mind, even when reluctant, within the school. I had devoted much of my youth to it in order to learn; later, after I began publicly to teach theology and gave myself to my students, almost all my time was spent teaching, and I had no leisure to write. I had the great burden not only of instructing students every day through lectures and disputations but also of answering many questions orally and in writing. Frequent sermons to the people also fell to me, either from necessity or by choice. We cannot do or even think about several things at once, especially important ones. Therefore, we repeatedly abandoned all hope of completing this work, in which we saw so much difficulty that it required a man not only exceptionally learned but also unimpeded by other business. But partly pressed by the entreaties of students, partly overcome by the reproaches of friends, and especially at your command, most excellent father—whose requests, particularly in so just a matter, it would be difficult and not even right to resist—we decided to shape this work in our spare hours, as they say, so that even if by some chance we cannot complete it, at least it will seem that we began it. I regret my undertaking all the less because I easily see that, even if I do nothing else, I will stir people who are not idle to desire the investigation of a great subject. For even if we have not attained our goal, we have certainly pursued the aim of explaining in these books matters that were not sufficiently known to our people and were most worthy of knowledge. But now let us proceed with our subject. We must make sure that even if our discussion sometimes begins to wander elsewhere, it is brought back to these matters.

Clemens Alexandrinus, a most weighty authority, reports that there were once some in the Church who rejected the authority of philosophers from the Christian school. He also says they adopted this conviction because the Lord said in Ioannes, cap. 9, that all who came before him were thieves and robbers and that the sheep did not listen to them. They say they were called thieves because they were deceitful sophists. Aristoteles himself called sophistry a kind of art of stealing. And Iustinus, after teaching that philosophers were like robbers and reproving them as deceivers, was killed through the plots of the philosopher Crescens, as Eusebius writes in libri quarti ecclesiasticae historiae, cap. 16. Philosophers should therefore not be listened to, especially since they have always opposed our teaching. For, as Ruffinus reports in libri primi ecclesiasticae historiae, cap. 2, men clever in debate and therefore opposed to the simplicity of faith supported Arius. Epiphanius also reproaches the Arians on this account in libri secundi adversus haereses, cap. 69: they were new Aristotelians and had taken poison from this philosopher and hurled it at themselves,

putting aside the Lord’s gentleness and clothing themselves in Aristoteles. Thus they were no longer worthy to possess the gift of the Spirit. And Hieronymus, in Adversum Luciferianos, says the Arian heresy borrowed streams of arguments from the source of Aristoteles. Finally, Paulus says that philosophers, while claiming to be wise, became fools and were handed over to a debased mind. Their authority, then, should have no weight among us. This and similar arguments supported that ancient error. Luther, however, tried to revive it after it had long been buried, without offering any argument; he then condemned both the other scholastics and especially D. Thomas, as if he had been the destroyer of pious teaching under the reign of Aristoteles. This is how he speaks against Latomus. Evidently, following Domitianus’ example, he thinks philosophers should be driven not only from the city but from the whole world. We, however, will teach briefly and without dispute what the Catholic faith and sound reason hold.

The authority of philosophers who held false opinions cannot help our teaching or make hidden things known, as Augustinus wisely and truly wrote to Dioscorus. “What need do we have,” he says, “in defending the Christian religion, to ask what Anaximenes, Democritus, Epicurus, Parmenides, Melissus, and other philosophers of that sort thought? Their teaching was full of errors contrary to natural reason.” Therefore, not all philosophers have been approved by our school, but only those of whom Socrates says in Plato: “Many indeed carry the staff in the Mysteries, but few are Bacchic initiates.” This is a magnificent saying, worthy of a great and wise man, teaching us that many were philosophers only in beard and cloak, but very few in reality. It is these few, who investigated by method and reason the power and effects of nature and the norms of morals and life, and attained them to a great extent, whom we maintain in this discourse to be useful to theologians. I do not see why the Lutherans pursue philosophers of this kind with such hatred, unless they are unwilling and unable to study authors whose meaning is obscure and difficult. The commentaries of every excellent philosopher, especially those of Aristoteles, require a student not only to have talent but also to love hard work. These people have little talent and have also been occupied in driving toil from the Christian life. Therefore, what they see as difficult and demanding in the books of philosophers they both dread and turn young people away from. I do not fully understand what Theophilus Alexandrinus means when, in his second Paschal book, he criticizes Origines for mixing the quibbles of philosophers into his treatises, and says that he proceeded from an evil beginning to fables and deliriums and made theological doctrine a game and joke. How much more true and clearly expressed, although spoken by an impious philosopher, was that saying of Porphyrius: Origines turned all the riches of the Greeks toward enriching Christian doctrine.

But perhaps these points are obscure because they are explained slowly and without supporting arguments. First, they must be illustrated by the deeds of the greatest men; then by the testimonies of our fathers; finally by arguments, most evident ones indeed, but as few as possible. Since in these matters proper to the schools I fear that someone may think our speech comes from scholastic disputes rather than the mind of the Church, we sometimes touch on arguments drawn from reason and support the truth we follow chiefly by the authority of our predecessors. We should understand that, among the ten proposed sources from which arguments and reasonings flow, the most brilliant is that grounded in the traditions and examples of the ancients. If matters were in good order concerning the customs and institutions of the Church, there would be no need to argue about them, for those are the most certain arguments. The Lutherans’ entire case should then immediately be rejected, since it is hostile to ecclesiastical rule, without which nothing can be right, constant, or true. But that is for another time. Let us now do what is at hand. Long ago the greatest Doctors of the Church were also philosophers: Didymus, Iustinus, Origines, Gregorius Nazianzenus, Basilius, Gregorius Nisenus, and Augustinus. Eusebius writes in these words in cap. 10 of book 5 of Ecclesiastica historia that such men used to be appointed to lead the ecclesiastical school: “The ancient custom was preserved, that teachers of the divine Scriptures in the ecclesiastical school should be men approved for learning and erudition. At that time Panthaenus was regarded as a notably outstanding founder and leader of this office; he had previously flourished with distinction among Stoic philosophers.” Origines also reports in Eusebius, book 6, cap. 15, that not only Panthaenus but Heracla and many other apostolic teachers used to read the books of philosophers. If we wanted to cite passages from the saints in which they use the testimonies of philosophers, not only those who wrote about morals but also those who wrote about nature, we might seem to use witnesses we do not need in a case that is scarcely disputed. Let these men read the commentaries in which the six days of creation are discussed; there, even in those alone, they could see how diligently our predecessors read philosophers and how useful philosophers are for explaining Sacred Scripture. They should also look at Hieronymus in cap. 17 Ieremiae and lib. 2 Adversus Iovinianum, where, even when disputing with a heretic, he uses various testimonies of philosophers and presents many examples of natural things from their commentaries, plainly showing how much their authority contributes to a theologian’s argument. But more about this shortly. Now let us continue with our purpose. To pass over the others, whom our opponents do not doubt stand with us, even Epiphanius himself, whom they cite against us, makes use of the authority of philosophers more than once. Teaching in Haeresi 51 how heretics are to be driven away, he says: “Those who are accustomed to these things say that reptiles and creatures that spew venom are driven away by the scent of dittany, styrax, libanotis, southernwood, bitumen, incense, gagate stone, or deer horn.” Likewise, in Haeresi 78, after giving many arguments that the Blessed Virgin preserved her virginity after childbirth, he adds: “If it is also fitting to take the facts from another kind of inquiry, we will touch on the connections of natural reasoning as well. They say that a lioness gives birth only once, and to one cub.” After adding the reason natural philosophers gave for this, he concludes that the Blessed Virgin, who bore the Lion from the tribe of Iuda, gave birth only once, to one son.

There is Epiphanius, instructing Christians and contending with heretics about the faith, citing the testimonies of philosophers. Paulus too not only persuades pagans but also, when establishing the faithful, often cites testimonies of poets and philosophers and draws arguments from them. For when speaking to the Athenians, he uses this passage from the Astronomical Phenomena of Aratus: “For we too are his offspring.” To the Corinthians he cites these words from the tragedies of the poet Euripides: “Evil conversations corrupt good morals.” To Titus he cites this oracle of the philosopher Epimenides: “The Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy gluttons.” He immediately adds: “This testimony is true.” If the Apostle confirms what he says with testimonies from philosophers, we can and should do the same, following not only Paulus’s example but also that of other saints. The second proposed point was to show from the testimonies of the fathers that philosophers are useful to theologians. I see no difficulty here, since many testify to this not obscurely but most clearly: Augustinus, in lib. 2 De doctrina christiana, cap. 40; Socrates, in lib. 3 Historiae ecclesiasticae, cap. 16. Do you seek more trustworthy authorities? I would cite others if our discussion were not hurrying elsewhere. Certainly Hieronymus, in epist. ad oratorem Magnum, does not merely testify to this but confirms it with strong arguments. The third proposal is to demonstrate this by reason itself. I will do so plainly and more briefly than so great a subject could allow. Those who deny that philosophers have discussed many matters wisely and seriously, said many things concisely and suitably, and finally explained many things ingeniously and clearly, should not be exhausted by words and arguments but by chains and prison. If natural reason also prescribes that young people memorize and strive to acquire the knowledge and prudence of what serious, intelligent, learned men have taught with sharpness and care, then philosophers’ teaching must be useful not only to young people but also to all who will at some time have dealings with human wisdom and prudence. If this is so, and if we have sufficiently shown above that theologians will have dealings of this kind in many matters, they will surely remain as close as they can and are allowed to those who think rightly about morals and nature. If this is so, theologians must certainly apply themselves to the books of philosophers, since today they will find no others who philosophize more aptly and wisely about such matters. The first proposition is true, and so is the conclusion. It is absurd to say, as some do, that everything useful and necessary for training human reason has been handed down in Sacred Scripture. Since the error in this view has been refuted sufficiently by what we said above, it need not be refuted further here. For what could be more foolish than to believe either that all the liberal disciplines are taught in Sacred Scripture or that such disciplines cannot train human reason well and usefully? If philosophy is useful and good for a theologian, and he cannot acquire it without the help of philosophers’ books, then he should certainly not neglect philosophers. Since knowledge of plants, stones, animals, trees, the elements, and other earthly things

and heavenly things is greatly necessary for understanding Sacred Scripture, as Augustinus teaches in lib. 2 De doctrina christiana and as we will demonstrate more fully in book 13 of this work, anyone who neglects the authors who have labored to know these matters with the greatest talent, extensive investigation, and long experience will surely be mad. Since there is no doubt in this matter that philosophers are of great benefit to theologians, we must now determine whether arguments drawn from the authority of philosophers are certain or rather uncertain, a question on which even learned people may have doubts. ¹

The unanimous agreement of all philosophers establishes certain belief in a philosophical doctrine. For what holds in other arts—that approved authors have such authority among those who pursue that art that it is ordinarily rash to depart from them—must hold in philosophy, and much more so, lest students wander in varied error about knowledge of natural things and never have anyone to follow. “It is well,” Aristotle says in libro secundo de caelo, “for each person to be persuaded that the opinions of the ancients, especially those of our predecessors, are true.” If in every discipline and art a learner must believe, as Aristotle himself prudently warned and Theodoret showed and made clear with many examples, then in learning philosophy we must certainly trust its teachers, especially when they agree in the same opinion. How arrogant and rash it would be—not to disagree with Plato, Aristotle, Hippocrates, Galen, Theophrastus, Themistius, Alexander, Dioscorides, and the other philosophers of this choir, all singing the same tune, whose writings were composed with great care and study and tested by posterity not only through examination but also approved by its agreement—but to speak against the learned men of one’s own time and prefer individual opinions to common ones. This, as the saying goes, is to wage war on the gods—that is, to oppose nature; for most people are usually led where nature itself draws them. From this it is clear that, in theological studies, it is not foreign to the task of investigating matters that raise doubts about nature to consult learned people, and, if the question concerns morals, those experienced in practice, and to ask what they think about each kind of question. If painters, sculptors, and even true poets want their work examined by the common people too, so that they may correct anything many people criticize, how much more should a prudent theologian revise and correct many opinions about natural things in light not of the common crowd but of the judgment of wise philosophers, even when those opinions seem true to him? Indeed, in matters of morals, not only the most learned philosophers but also the very best men have authority, even without giving a reason. For what Aristotle taught so learnedly, as he taught almost everything, is that just as a healthy palate judges flavors correctly, but a disordered one does not, so a good and just man distinguishes the good from the bad and the right from ¹

the wrong. By contrast, every disturbance of the mind’s passions removes and corrupts the judgment of truth. So true is the saying: as each person is, so is the judgment he gives. Aristotle himself plainly testifies that we ought to heed the opinions not only of those with experience but also of the elders and the prudent, just as we heed demonstrations. For, he says, having experience as their eye, they see the principles of action themselves and, guided by them as if by nature, judge rightly. Therefore Innocent rightly and piously wished us to follow the examples of the saints in moral judgments. Plato too says most gravely in Timaeo: “It cannot be that faith is not given to the children of the gods, even if they speak without probable and necessary demonstrations.” And Ecclesiasticus says: “Settle the counsel of a good heart within you. For the soul of a holy man sometimes declares what is true better than seven watchmen sitting aloft to observe.” This has always been my reason, most holy and excellent Father, for expecting your weighty judgment in such matters no less than that of any other most learned philosopher and theologian. For I understood that all the virtues I had observed in you, even without any dialectical syllogism, would lead you to follow what was right and avoid its contrary. Yet this discourse of mine is not about you but about the whole class of good men. I would have it understood especially of judgments of prudence, not of doctrines of knowledge. For judgments of prudence change when customs change, but decrees of knowledge do not. I strongly disagree with those who, when deciding cases of conscience, as they call them, consult certain spiritual men, I know not whom, leaving aside the most learned philosophers and theologians—men who speak visions from their own hearts, not from the mouth of the Lord. Much practice in virtue is also needed, as Origen says on cap. 4 Ioannis, so that we may judge good and evil, truth and falsehood. But few have, as the Apostle says, their senses trained to discern good and evil. Enough of this. Let us now return to where we digressed. It is therefore established that we must hold in high regard the judgment of philosophers—those who excelled in great learning and outstanding intellect—if we do not wish to be considered rash. Indeed, if anything is probable, nothing is more so than that the chief of nature has provided some men for humankind as teachers of natural science. Who would be so foolish as to establish any academy without teachers? Certainly, since God, who is known in Judea, established there a kind of gymnasium of divine knowledge, he also provided rabbis there. And since he wished there to be academies of evangelical doctrine among Christians, he gave apostles, prophets, Evangelists, and doctors to profess that doctrine in the Christian commonwealth. Therefore, since he gave all nations the laws and disciplines of nature, it is not plausible that he instituted no teachers of such laws and disciplines. If it is fitting to argue from another comparison, Clement of Alexandria says that philosophy was given by God to the Greeks like a testament of their own. Just as he did not leave the testament of the Jews or of Christians without an interpreter, neither did he leave that of the Greeks without one. It was therefore also part of divine providence that not all philosophers should err together in knowledge of God, the rule of morals and life, or even the understanding of natural things,

which is necessary for those first two matters. This is why, according to Paul, the Greeks were without excuse. They could, however, be excused if their teachers had not been sufficiently instructed in the truth of goodness by the best author, guide, and teacher of nature. Sacred Scripture also bears witness to this. For it is written of God in Psalmo: “He teaches man knowledge.” And again, in libro Iob: “He teaches us more than the beasts of the earth and makes us wiser than the birds of heaven.” Just as nature has given certain animals, as leaders and guides of the others, certain instincts by which they are led to guide their own flock rightly and usefully and are drawn away from what is crooked and harmful, so we must believe that notions have been implanted in the minds of those human beings who are natural leaders of the others, by which they are led to those matters that concern the instruction of unlearned and untutored peoples. For the condition of beasts is not better than ours. Boethius, a man of great intellect and outstanding learning, rates the common conceptions of the wise (as he calls them) no less highly than if they were common to all people. In the sixth and seventh places, we ourselves have also shown by the same reasoning that the common judgments of ecclesiastical doctors must be accepted as if they were the common and concordant opinions of all the faithful. Therefore, there is no doubt that what all philosophers agree upon is true and established. For how could men, ambitious for honor and glory, nearly blind with eagerness to criticize, and separated by many centuries and immense distances, come to one opinion unless they were driven toward this agreement by some impulse of nature? From this we may again understand what was said shortly before: philosophers received from some mortal teacher whatever they wrote, by common agreement, for all peoples and nations. Thus the common opinions of philosophers are most true, and we may not dissent from them if they all hold one and the same view. But when an opponent had objected to Jerome, in his book Contra Pelagianos, that philosophers commonly held that whoever has one virtue has them all, Jerome replied that this was indeed the philosophers’ opinion but not the Apostles’, and that he cared not what Aristotle taught but what Paul taught. I shall pass over here, lest I be lengthy, Jerome’s customary manner in that dialogue and his way of evading arguments. For the argument is easily answered: Jerome also agreed that this opinion was true and proved it by the authority of the philosophers. Thus, in cap. 16 Esdrae, he says: “The opinion of the philosophers and the Apostle James is that the virtues cling together, so that whoever lacks one lacks them all.” And in cap. 56 of the same prophet: “The virtues follow one another, so that whoever has one has them all, and whoever lacks one lacks them all.” In that dialogue, then, Jerome does not wish to be pressed in a dogma of faith by the authority of the philosophers, although he himself uses that authority elsewhere.

When the discussion concerns the school of one philosopher or another, the question is quite different. The more learned and distinguished someone is, the more probable his authority and the more trustworthy his testimony. Yet a theologian must not bind himself to anyone so completely that he thinks it wrong to depart from him even by a hair’s breadth. It is not right for the authority of one pagan to prevail among Christ’s disciples so far that it wins even without reason. In any art, it certainly matters greatly to read one outstanding author, to whom you devote yourself above all. Yet no one, however learned, will be your authority for agreeing or disagreeing. No one has ever lived who did not sometimes err as a human being. Indeed, the learned disagree about who should rank first among philosophers, and who is therefore the one worth studying above all. To pass over others in this matter, Augustine usually holds one view—no one should be preferred to him, for no one was more learned or renowned—while St. Thomas, the greatest and most weighty theologian and philosopher, seems to hold another. Plato is supreme for Augustine; Aristotle for Thomas. In general, each person most favors the kind of learning to which he was most accustomed from childhood. Augustine’s reasoning arises on one side: no philosophers agree more with Christian doctrine than the Platonists. For Plato was a philosopher among the Hebrews, as Clement of Alexandria attests. Thomas, however, says that the doctrine of the Peripatetics agrees very much with Christian dogma. Clement of Alexandria also reports in lib. 5 Stromatum that Aristobulus proved in many books that Peripatetic philosophy derived from the Mosaic Law and the other prophets. St. Thomas’s opinion has been approved by nearly all peoples and by the practice of many centuries. For many years now Plato has scarcely been read except by idle men in corners, while the academies of the world resound with broad agreement in Aristotle. All peoples also agree on Aristotle’s unique distinction: by antonomasia he was the Philosopher, that is, the foremost of philosophers. We therefore embrace him justly, since everyone agrees in praising him. Scholastic theologians have also agreed with St. Thomas so completely that Plato has no place in the school of theology; Aristotle has entirely occupied it. It is certain that no one can be fully learned in natural things by reading Plato alone. Aristotle alone is more than enough for a man to be learned in philosophy in all three parts. So no one should complain that Aristotle pleased theologians in a wretched age, while Plato pleased them when the Church was in a better state: let him know that the Aristotelian school was accustomed to flourish in Alexandria even when the Apostolic Doctors flourished there greatly. Yet, as I see it, neither Augustine’s nor Thomas’s opinion should be disregarded. We must concede something both to those who love Aristotle and perhaps to those who are friends of Plato. It is difficult not to approve their judgment when they say Plato spoke more clearly and consistently about the soul’s immortality, God’s providence, the creation of things, the ends of good and evil, and the rewards or punishments of the next life. St. Thomas’s view is to be preferred, but only with a certain moderation, without which it cannot be approved. We too like Aristotle, and rightly so, provided we do not always try to convert even his opposing views into Christ’s doctrine. His interpreters nearly always do this: they often force the context and compel Aristotle, whether he will or not, to pronounce in favor of the Catholic faith. If you please, let us test this with examples in which the common run of theologians may not think Aristotle erred. For here we need not discuss the eternity of the world ^{1 2}

or the predetermined number of souls. Nor need we discuss the soul’s immortality, since Cajetan has argued this question most carefully in his commentaries on the works he wrote De anima. Instead, let us consider matters that are more difficult, and that Aristotle seems to have expressed obscurely with cunning words deliberately contrived to impose on his readers, so that if learned men should sometimes rightly and truly criticize him, he might have a way to escape and be excused by his friends. I do not, however, bring an accusation against Aristotle here, a most learned man who has deserved greatly of all humane letters. But since most people now seem to depend on him as if he were an oracle and read all his works without hesitation, this opinion must be weakened, lest dissenting from this philosopher’s views be treated as a sacrilege. For we have heard that some Italians give as much time to Aristotle and Averroes as those most devoted to sacred doctrine give to Sacred Scripture, and as much faith to them as those most religious in Christ’s doctrine give to the Apostles and Evangelists. From this arose those deadly doctrines in Italy about the soul’s mortality and God’s lack of providence over human affairs—if what is said is true, for I know nothing beyond hearsay. Men inflated by their opinions of Aristotle shamefully flatter themselves and thereby fall into the gravest error. Enough of this. Let us return to our subject. The first passage in which I think Aristotle erred against the faith of Scripture is in De somno et vigilia. There he denies that God sends dreams, and gives as the reason that, if God were their author, he would send them especially to the wise, and while they were awake. A second example occurs in the treatise De bona fortuna, where he removes chance events from divine governance and direction, persuaded by two arguments: first, that good fortune comes to the wicked, whose affairs it is implausible that God would care for; second, that God would guide the wise toward fortunate outcomes, whereas we generally see the most imprudent people enjoying the greatest good fortune. A third passage is in libro primo De coelo, where he asserted that whatever was generated is corruptible, and that nothing is incorruptible unless it was generated. He had first set out the various meanings of these words so that the question would not be obscured by ignorance of a term. Thinking, then, that he had a good argument against Plato and could therefore promise himself certain victory, he taught, contrary to his custom, not obscurely but as plainly as possible that whatever is corruptible must be ungenerated and everlasting—that is, it must never have begun to exist. That is how he interprets the term. It would follow that the rational soul must either be subject to corruption or be ungenerated and eternal. A fourth passage occurs in libro quinto rursumque duodecimo Metaphysices, where he defines God as an everlasting and excellent living being. He calls any celestial and divine substance by the common name “god.” For afterward he begins to ask whether that everlasting substance is one or many. In the same lib. 12 he agrees that the ancients rightly called those most excellent things “gods.” But he plays on an equivocation: sometimes he calls the intellect itself god, sometimes the heaven, whose soul is intellect; this can also be seen in libro etiam secundo de coelo. Let no one be surprised that Aristotle here calls the celestial substances living beings: following the usage of the ancients, he calls an animate substance—whether it has a sensitive or intellectual soul—an animal. He therefore thinks that the one first God, ruler of the others, fixed to the outermost heaven, moves it by himself, as the other intellects move their own spheres, and that they are

the souls of those very spheres, as St. Thomas also admits in secundi contra gentiles capite septuagesimo. Neither in octavo Physices nor in duodecimo Metaphysices does Aristotle refer human intelligence to any other principle than that first intellect, which by its everlasting power moves the first mobile. A fifth passage occurs in that same book, where he attributes infinite power to the intellectual substances that move the heavens, because they move them for infinite time. A sixth passage is also in that same book, where, as it seems to me, he suggested that God’s providence and the rewards and punishments awaiting the good and wicked in the next life were fables invented to keep the common people in their duty. “The rest,” he says, “has been recounted in fable to persuade the common people and serve the laws and the usefulness of human life.” What, I ask, were those beliefs of the ancients that meet both conditions—that they were handed down for use by the laws and for the usefulness of human life—unless they were the very matters we have set out? Aristotle was unwilling to state them lest he incur the resentment and hatred of good men, especially those responsible for the commonwealth. That Aristotle denies God’s providence over human affairs is asserted by theologians on the highest authority: Clement of Alexandria libro quinto stromatum and Epiphanius in libri tertii adversum haereses capite ultimo What more reliable witnesses could we seek than holy and learned men thoroughly versed in Greek doctrine? Should we also wait for Aristotle’s own testimony about himself? In lib. 12 Metaphysices, in carefully contrived words so that even in this he would not depart from his custom, he taught that it is absurd for God to understand certain things as better to see than not to see. He does not say that it is absurd for God to understand certain things, but to understand or contemplate certain things, as the old translator rendered it, so that what was signified was not so much a simple understanding of lowly things as providence and care for them. He therefore thinks that God cares for great things and neglects small ones. And in the little book De mundo—if the work is indeed his—he makes God like the great Persian king Xerxes, Cambyses, or Darius, who personally performs the greatest and finest duties of his kingdom but entrusts the smaller and baser tasks to others. In decimo Ethicorum libro he says: “If the gods have any care for human affairs, as is thought and believed, it is reasonable that they favor those who love and honor the gods, as being their dearest charges and doing well.” Note his words “as is thought and believed,” and so forth. Diogenes Laertius openly reports that Aristotle restricts God’s providence to the heavens. Learned and weighty men also support with such strong arguments Aristotle’s denial of God’s freedom in natural affairs that it would be superfluous for me to repeat here arguments readily found in their books. Certainly, when he battles Plato tooth and nail, as they say, over the world’s eternity, he would seem ridiculous if he made the author of nature free. What of his indignation at the prosperity of the wicked, which in secundo rhetoricorum libro he says pertains to good morals? What of his prescription in septimo Politicorum libro that nothing naturally defective, diminished, or deprived should be brought up—that is, so the commonwealth would not lose its proper form and appearance through an excessive number of children? For the same reason, he thinks fetuses should be destroyed and abortion performed before animation; but after they have received life, he considers it impious to touch them.

What of the infinite multitude of souls, which Aristotle must admit lest he fall into Pythagoras’s μετεμψύχωσιν? Once this is admitted, since he thinks there cannot be infinite bodies, he will not accept the article of the resurrection that has been demonstrated. Moreover, Aristotle posited two principles, God and matter, for he did not acknowledge the creation of things from nothing. Reader, do not disregard as insignificant witnesses to this matter Clement of Alexandria and Epiphanius; I do not know whether they are not the most weighty witnesses of all. I state more cautiously that these were Aristotle’s views because of St. Thomas, who is usually almost a patron of this philosopher. But most learned doctors prove that he held these views, and I have followed them on this point. If someone should compose an apology for Aristotle’s view, I would not greatly contend with him. I ask only that the reader grant me, if possible, that Aristotle erred in these passages. If St. Thomas makes this impossible, at least grant that Aristotle must be read cautiously, as inconsistent and slippery, or that some of his opinions must certainly be rejected. Either is enough for me, and each seems more probable; nothing else seems probable. I think I have now explained carefully enough how much force philosophers, whether all together or each separately, have for establishing belief.

It will not be difficult to refute the objections raised at the beginning. First, it is easy to understand that the Lord rejects not those who were sent but those who came—either false prophets or false philosophers. “I did not send them,” he says, “but they ran of their own accord.” Above, I think, we argued sufficiently that true philosophers were provided by divine providence. Clement next maintains that the philosophers of Greece were called thieves for another reason: after stealing wisdom from Moses and the prophets, they were accustomed to boast of it as their own, in pursuit of empty glory. Pythagoras was a disciple of a certain Jew from Nazareth, as Alexander writes in libro de symbolis Pythagoricis. St. Ambrose also clearly reports that Pythagoras was Hebrew by birth. Clement of Alexandria attests that he was circumcised. Clearchus the Peripatetic, in primo libro de somno, says that he knew a certain Jew, most distinguished not only in speech but also in character, with whom Aristotle had spent time. Augustine and Clement attest that Plato received his teaching not only from Pythagoras but also from our people, and Ambrose supports this with many arguments. Plato himself openly admits as much in Timaeo. Therefore, when we incorporate into our discussions what the philosophers rightly and wisely said, we are taking back what is ours, not borrowing what belongs to others. That is enough about the first argument. The rest are such that we would weary the reader by refuting them.

Since the authority of civil law is relevant here, and is so relevant that this is immediately apparent rather than requiring some hidden reasoning, a few things must also be said about it. Knowledge of law and legislation is undoubtedly a sound discipline of morals and life. Philosophy is the law and rule of life; therefore those skilled in civil law must be considered philosophers, if they profess what he calls true philosophy. The first argument that civil law can in no way help theologians is that priests, and even monks, are forbidden to study such laws. That discipline, which canonical law prescribes clerics to shun, therefore conflicts with theology. Further, theology concerns divine things, while civil law deals with the administration of human and temporal things; it is scarcely conceivable what use the knowledge of temporal administration could provide a theologian discussing eternal matters. Cyprian admits that pontiffs use imperial laws, but only in the course of temporal affairs. Therefore, when ecclesiastical men wish to treat theological—that is, divine and everlasting—matters, they ought not to use imperial laws. The enactments of emperors, which make up civil law, sometimes also oppose God’s laws. A theologian therefore will not receive from them any suitable argument to establish theological conclusions.

It is truer, however, that the discipline of human law can be useful to a theologian in many ways. If canonical learning is necessary for him, and knowledge of civil laws is so closely joined and connected to it that the one can scarcely be separated from the other, then the theologian must claim civil law too, as connected with canon law. Lucius III attests that the statutes of sacred canons are supported by the constitutions of princes, and in turn support them (De novi operis nuntatione, I). Hence the Italian saying has become a common proverb: “The jurist without a chapter is worth little, but the canonist without law is worth nothing.” Further, pontifical laws generally use civil authority and reasoning. Knowledge of civil law will therefore not be foreign to a theologian, who ought to be familiar with pontifical law. Augustine also does not object if heretics take the laws of the earthly empire as their aid, for the Apostle did so. A theologian should be all the more approved if, against heretics, he invokes the authority of civil laws when he rightly discusses the arrangement of temporal affairs or morals as established or to be established in the commonwealth. Augustine himself often does this against the Donatists. For

I do not wish to cite a particular passage, since St. Augustine has already used this approach in many places. Further, a theologian must sometimes enter into a discussion of justice and law. He will be foolish indeed if he wishes to neglect what the most distinguished men have seriously said about law. Moreover, how often must a theologian distinguish right from wrong and equity from its opposite in covenants, stipulations, other contracts, ownership, prescription, wills, donations, witnesses, judges, and hundreds of other such matters? Very often indeed, if he is believed to have the duty of guarding souls from danger and providing for their salvation. For injustice is a mortal sin. It is no wonder, then, if I require some knowledge of law from someone who must hear the confessions of many and answer many questions about injustice. What could a theologian say about such matters that would treat restitution aptly and precisely? Could he be a sound judge of justice and equity even in the forum of conscience unless he borrowed much from jurists and civil prudence? Certainly not. For although a theologian, helped by the books of philosophers and St. Thomas, may distinguish justice from injustice, he will do so only in general; he will not do so in particular without some knowledge of law. These matters may seem more obscure when discussed at length without examples. They should be illustrated by examples, since they seem to have been argued more subtly than necessary. I will offer a few of many examples, for to give them all would be endless. First: suppose a penitent says he has scruples about certain goods that he possesses by long prescription, that he has received as a gift from another man’s wife, that he acquired under a will that was not solemnly executed, or that came to him intestate. Second: suppose a penitent says that he is involved in litigation over some matter and does not know whether he should yield the suit or may rightly pursue it. Third: suppose a firstborn son asks a theologian whether he commits mortal sin if he does not provide his sisters with just marriages, pay the debt his parent contracted, and care for and protect the entail. What of a donee: is he bound by debts? What of a landowner: may he exact certain customary gifts from his subjects and bind them to customary burdens, whether real or personal? We like the jurists’ terms in this place; we need not always speak with exact diction. Indeed, it is better not to be too concerned about names and sometimes to be accommodating and imprecise, as Plato already warned us in Thaeateto et in Politico. But that is by the way. Let us return to our subject. Why say more? Is it beyond a theologian’s powers to define specifically when injustice is committed in judgments, contracts, last wills, and sometimes even crimes, when countless cases arise that cannot be defined by natural law? If this is so, as it certainly is, it would be extremely arrogant to despise legal expertise in such questions. Legal expertise cannot be investigated more wisely or found more reliably than in the volumes of law, which are surpassed by no other volumes of philosophers either in eloquence or prudence. I mean the fifty books of the Pandects. For later laws have departed greatly from them in both respects.

If Cicero thought that the little book of the Twelve Tables surpassed the libraries of all philosophers in both authority and usefulness, what should we believe about those fifty books, which contain not only the laws of the Twelve Tables but also many other wise and sacred prescriptions concerning human agreements, law, and equity? It is a sacred volume, I say, and Justinian rightly called it a temple of justice. Since civil law is known to have arisen from the sacred philosophy of morals, a theologian will cultivate its streams as well as its source, lest his religious devotion to philosophy itself be inadequate. Whoever thinks civil law should be neglected by a theologian tears away a good part of moral philosophy, whose support he would seem foolish to deny to someone discussing morals. Because a theologian often uses the support of law in theological disputation, I have therefore added this knowledge of law to theology as a handmaid and attendant.

Although an argument drawn from civil law may not be certain or established, it is nevertheless most probable, especially one that a theologian draws from laws approved by the practice of the Christian commonwealth. We must believe that such laws were given to the Romans not without divine direction; indeed, John VIII declares that they were promulgated divinely through the mouths of princes. Augustine says that God distributed human laws to humankind through emperors and rulers of the world. Demosthenes thinks laws are an invention and gift of the gods. Cicero says that the law of a prince, suited to commanding and forbidding, is the right reason of Jupiter himself. And Solomon says: “Divination is on the lips of the king; in judgment his mouth does not err.” It therefore belonged to God’s providence that the makers of Roman laws should be inspired by a certain divine power to prescribe rules for governing the commonwealth that were just and lawful. Therefore, if a theologian draws an argument from them, he will not depart from the purpose of his profession; even if he does not argue with certainty, he will argue probably. I cannot approve Ludovicus Vives in his attempt to break and diminish the authority of all Roman law. He sometimes indulges himself excessively in pursuing corrupt disciplines and tries not only to refute new errors that have crept or intruded into them, but also to overthrow accepted opinions of the ancients, always with great flourish of words but sometimes with little force of argument. In his books De corruptis disciplinis he said many true and excellent things, but at times he pronounced confidently as if he had descended from a divine council. Learned men would approve him much more if he had restored collapsed disciplines with the same diligence and eloquence with which he described the causes of their corruption. But he faltered in teaching the disciplines after having flourished in criticizing errors. This is no wonder. It is easy enough to criticize the mistakes of others, even probably; but to bring disciplines, which for many years certain unlearned and barbarous men have bent aside, back to the straight line—that is indeed the task and the labor. This was exactly what he should have attempted if he wished to accomplish anything worthy of great praise.

It is one thing to criticize civil laws, especially those approved by long practice in a well-ordered commonwealth, and another to criticize the errors of interpreters. As far as jurists are concerned, however, Ludovicus agreed with us. He says: “The ancient interpreters of civil law were once held in the highest honor, deservedly and for good reasons, because philosophers interpreted civil law as it had been gravely and prudently formulated by distinguished philosophers. But after this discipline began to be in the hands of men who had acquired no philosophy or serious training before approaching and adorning themselves with it, all its splendor was destroyed. Its teachers are now held in esteem only by the common people, who are all full of lawsuits. Just as the Egyptian priests were greatly honored because they had devoted much labor to mathematics, while the whole of Egypt needed geometry, since the yearly floods of the Nile confused the boundaries of the fields, so, since lawsuits have flooded and overrun the borders of the Christian world and mixed and confused them, those who are said to be skilled in settling quarrels must necessarily be held in the highest honor. Whether they settle them or not is for them to see; this much we certainly see: there are fewer lawsuits where there are fewer scholars of this kind.” I too do not wish to claim the novices for theology’s use. Not every shrewd and cautious pettifogger, guardian of formulas, hunter of syllables, patron of injustice as much as justice, is a jurist. I teach only that civil laws, especially those long observed by the custom and practice of the Christian people, are useful to a theologian in argument. Enough about these matters. Now let us speak of the authority of history. The arguments we offered to diminish the authority of civil law are easier than those that require our discourse to linger in refutation.