34. The sin of enslavement
Introduction that which compelled the guilty priest to wander through the Christian world as a vagabond till he died. Scotus discusses this triple obligation to keep the sacramental seal of confession inviolate in his first three conclusions. The fourth is devoted to explaining the details covered by ecclesiastical law, namely, who is obligated to keep the secret, for how long, and in regard to what details, particularly those involving other persons. Since the first conclusion Scotus draws is that the obligation also stems from natural law, no superior, not even the pope, can command a priest to reveal anyone's sin. In the fifth and final conclusion, Scotus shows how far the arguments for the natural law basis of this special sacramental obligation apply to other secrets that are revealed to some confidant. Since only the first and the initial part of the fifth conclusion-viz., the natural law obligation-are of primary philosophical interest, we have translated only what is covered under the first conclusion and, in the final paragraph, the text concerning to what extent the principles of natural law apply to secrets in general.
The text translated here is from the Ordinatio IV, dist. 21, q. 2; Codex A (ff. 243va-44va).
34. The sin of enslavement The only question in which Scotus discusses the topic of slavery is concerned with the various impediments to a sacramental marriage recognized by canon lawyers in his day. The question reads: "Is slavery an impediment to marriage?" What occasioned the question is that canon law had a special section entitled "The Marriage of Slaves," which insisted on the legal right of slaves to contract a sacramental marriage despite the opposition of their masters. It was one of the many ways in which the Church sought to better and Christianize the institution of slavery, which in Scotus' day was still a recognized universal political and economic fact. Scotus, however, in contrast to many of his contemporaries, restricts extensively the conditions under which slavery could become legitimate and a slave bound in justice to render service to his master. To understand the context of what Scotus writes in this question, we should consider the following points.
As C. Williams notes in his article "Slavery and the Church," in the New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 13, p. 281: "The Church was born into a world in which slavery was universally accepted as a social and economic institution pertaining to the very structure of society, just as today the system of remunerated employment is taken for granted. As in modem society few would be likely to contemplate seriously the abolition of the existing system, so neither did it occur to Christians of the early Church to advocate the abolition of slavery." Nevertheless,
Sin lIS Christianity could not help but introduce a profound, if subtle, change in the existing attitude towards this social institution. For, in the eyes of God, all men are equal, even though by nature they are endowed with varying talents. As St. Paul put it in his letter to the Galatians
(3:27): "All you who have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor freeman; there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in Christ
Jesus" (see also I Cor. u:u; Eph. 5:9; Col. 3:22-24; I Peter 2:28).
Under the influence of this new leaven, the whole Christian attitude towards all sexual or social class differences began to change slowly but surely, and with it the meaning of "servus," which in Scotus' day could be translated as "serf" as well as "slave" or "servant."
The fact that it can have either of these last two meanings, however, highlights the fact that, as the institution of slavery existed in many parts of the world, slaves were entrusted with most of the manuallabor, the chores, and even the management of the day-to-day requirements of running a household or business. Aristotle, for instance, thought it beneath the station of a freeman to engage in manual labor for profit. The manual arts, we recall, were long referred to as "servile," whereas the fine arts were labeled "liberal," because they required the leisure characteristic of a freeman. ("School" itself-we know-is derived from the Greek term U'xoA:fJ, meaning "leisure.")
With the advent of Christianity, however, this attitude towards servile work changed dramatically, occasioned by the fact that Christ himself was the son of a carpenter and presumably worked at that profession as well. St. Paul prided himself because he labored as a tentmaker to support himself while preaching the revelation of Christ. Indeed, the very idea of serving others became an integral part of the Christian message, for as Jesus pointed out to his disciples when he washed their feet, he came to serve, not to lord it over, others. Furthermore, servitude or slavery itself did not always have the odious connotation that it has today. As Williams points out, it existed in at least two distinct forms, one of which he calls "symbiotic slavery," the other "parasitic slavery." In its symbiotic form the relationship was analogous to that of an organic body. Master and slave worked together for their mutual good as human beings. The slave was a part of the household and was treated as such. And just as one might hire oneself out to others to payoff a debt or in return for the means of livelihood for self and family, so one could voluntarily enter such a servile state as an indentured servant or as a slave for life. Where the institution of slavery existed-for instance, during the period of the Roman Empire-the Church insisted on the rights and duties of both
II6 Introduction masters and slaves, just as in our own times she emphasizes the mutual rights and duties of employers and employees.
But just as the symbiotic relationship between owners and workers, capital and labor, employer and employee, can degenerate into what is practically a form of slavery and a gross violation of social justice, so too with the institution of slavery. Thus we have what Williams calls
"parasitic slavery," where the master or owner exploited the labor of the slave for his own private advantage and pleasure; and in this form there was inhumanity, brutality, and vice in both masters and slaves.
In some cases, slaves lost all civil rights and were not permitted by law to marry lest they prejudice their owners' right to buy and sell them
"like an inanimate instrument" or "an animal." From the beginning the Church condemned this degrading form of slavery and, where such de facto existed, continually labored to better the condition of those condemned to such an ignominious state. During the Middle
Ages, with the advent of new religious orders, some-like the Mercedarians (or "Order of the Blessed Virgin Mary for the Ransom of Captives," founded in I2I8 by St. Peter Nolasco}-not only specialized in working with the slaves, but added a fourth vow to the usual three of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the vow to act as captives themselves if necessary to free those Christian slaves of the Moors whose faith was in danger. Another way in which the Church sought to attack parasitic slavery was by defending the right of slaves to marry, even without the consent of their masters or owners. It is in this context that Scotus raises the question: "Is slavery an impediment to marriage?"
Scotus divides the question into two principal articles, one dealing with the origin and legality of slavery, the other with the question of whether it represents a legal impediment to a sacramental marriage.
As for the origins and legality, we might note, many political philosophers, like Aristotle, considered some form of slavery to stem from the very nature of man. Scotus alludes to this in answering an objection to his own view drawn from Aristotle's Politics I, ch. 5: "Those strong in mind should rule; those strong in body should serve." Advocates of this view argued that slavery or servitude could be something healthy and good for a certain class of individuals, namely, those not "naturally strong in mental ability and hence [not] naturally disposed to rule," but "more robust in body," if "less prudent in mind," and hence "naturally suited to be servants." Christian thinkers generally rejected this, but considering the fall of man from a primitive state of innocence together with the widespread existence of slavery, they generally adopted some variant of the view of Ulpian (d. 228 A. D. ).
This famous Roman jurist claimed that by the law of nature, or ius
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naturale, all men are born free, but slavery as a social and economic institution stems from the law of nations, or ius gentium. Though this latter term itself was of earlier, probably Roman, origin, and was interpreted differently, it was always distinguished from positive civil law, or ius civile, on the ground that it is so common as to be virtually universal, and hence is close to general precepts of natural law, written into the heart of man, if not indistinguishable from conclusions drawn from such precepts (Aquinas, Summa theologiae IaIIae, q. 95, art. 4).
We find this theory, for instance, in St. Thomas Aquinas and his disciples. In his Summa theologiae IIaIIae, q. 57, art. 3, ad 2, he says: "The fact that this man is a slave rather than that man is not due to natural reason, but is so only because of some consequent usefulness, insofar as it is useful for this person to be governed by someone wiser, and for this latter person to be aided by the other .... And thus slavery which pertains to the law of the nations (ius gentium) is natural in the second sense [Le., by reason of some resultant consequence], but not in the first sense [viz., absolutely]." And in the supplement to the Summa theologiae III, q. 51, art. 1, ad 2, we read that while servitude is against the original intention of nature, nevertheless-considering man's actual condition-"Natural reason tends to this, and nature desires the same, namely, that a given person might be good. But given the fact that someone sins, nature inclines that he be punished for his sin, and thus slavery is introduced as punishment for sin." (see also IaIIae, q·94)· Scotus apparently makes no attempt to justify slavery in general, either as stemming from the law of nature "like the servitude or, more properly, filial subjection to the father," or as a consequence of original sin, or as having its roots in the ius gentium, as does Aquinas. He is concerned only with the origins of its most extreme and "damnable form," and this as a possible impediment to a sacramental marriage, for this question is the first of a series devoted to canonical marital impediments. He explains the nature of the slavery or servitude he has in mind and traces its origin simply to "positive law," which, judging from the context, he seems to understand as some particular form of civil law, namely, laws governing the punishment of certain kinds of criminal behavior or certain types of voluntary contracts, which can be entered into foolishly and may even be against the natural law, yet until proven such, could bind in justice. He is talking about the slavery or servitude described by Aristotle in Bk. I of the Politics, ch. 4
(1 254aI I - 17), "according to which the master can sell the slave like an animal, for he cannot exercise acts of manly excellence, since he has to perform servile actions at the command of his master." This was precisely the sort of servitude that jeopardized the right of the slave to marry, and about which the canon law intervened to declare: "Mar-
IIB I ntrodu.ction riage among slaves shall in no way be prohibited." Nevertheless,
Scotus, in contrast to many of his medieval colleagues, seems to have had little sympathy with the whole institution of slavery, though it is clear from his answers to objections to his own views that he recognized the distinction between this most inhuman and "damnable form of servitude" and other, symbiotic forms where the relationship between master and servant was likened by those who sought to defend it, he says, to "the members of the human body, where certain parts naturally serve the main part."
Since the slavery he is speaking of has its origins in some form of positive law, this prompts the further question, "But how can such slavery be just, where a master acquires the right to buy or sell his slave, or send one to this part of the world and his mate to another?"
He refers back to selection 21, as to how civil authority arises and how a state or commonwealth can pass just positive laws governing the punishment of criminals or how one can transfer property one has justly acquired by law to another person. But, as he explains later, no human person is chattel, and the "reasons for possessing gold and persons who serve you are not the same." By way of example, he goes on to say, "It would be difficult to establish the justice, by prescription, of retaining slaves of this sort, unless one assumed they became such from the outset by one or the other legitimate ways in which servitude is introduced."
And what are the possible legitimate ways in which slavery of this sort might conceivably arise? Scotus himself can think of only two.
One is where slavery is inflicted as a punishment for criminals "so vicious that their liberty would harm both themselves and the public."
The other is where persons voluntarily, presumably for some economic reason, enslave themselves in such a way as to cede to their masters even the right to buy or sell them at will as well as to receive service of a specified sort. But, Scotus goes on to add, anyone who knowingly and willingly binds himself in this latter way is stupid, for "talis subiectio est fatua." Not only that, he adds-it might perhaps be a violation of natural law to abdicate one's freedom in this way. His use of "forte," the Latin word for "perhaps," however, seems to indicate he is not sure this is so, and in the case of doubt the legitimacy of the civil law must be presumed. And hence such a contract voluntarily made could bind the individual in justice to render the service he has contracted for. As he explains later, in art. 2, "an obligation not of the law of nature could impede some liberty that one has in virtue of natural law. " And he cites an oath of fealty or a religious vow of obedience as instances.
"By the law of nature lowe you nothing; nevertheless I can vow obedience to you, and then I am bound to obey you."
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In Scotus' day, when Moors commonly enslaved Christians and Christians enslaved Moors as captives of war, many attempted to justify such slavery on grounds Scotus could not accept. As he puts it:
If you insist that there is also a third legitimate reason for slavery, for instance, that if one captured in war is preserved unharmed, and thus spared from death, he may become a slave destined to serve, I doubt this-unless
[playing on words) you mean by "servus" here one who is "preserved" [nisi dicatur "servus" ibi "servatus"). Neither is such enslavement a clear case of justice, even if the captor, perhaps, might have otherwise killed his captive
(assuming the war was a just one of self-defense and not one of invasion, and that the captive persisted in his obstinacy against the person fighting defensively). Nevertheless, given that the captive could cease to be obstinate, since he has it in his power to change his mind, it seems inhuman to inflict on him a punishment that is against the law of nature. Neither does the [other) justifying reason for enslavement apply here, since he might very well not remain rebellious or abuse his li:berty, but become docile, perhaps, and use the liberty granted to him in a proper way.
Scotus then goes on to raise two objections to his position. The first is the one referred to earlier, based on Aristotle's contention that some form of slavery "is not against the law of nature," but stems from the natural differences that exist among individuals, where some are meant to rule and others to serve. Proponents of this view used the analogy of the organic character of the human body to express the symbiotic relationship. Another analogy used to prove the naturality of symbiotic slavery is that hinted at in the opening lines of Scotus' first article, namely, that many despite their age resemble more immature children than responsible adults capable of ruling themselves. If filial subjection is a natural form of servitude, other forms may also be defended as being rooted in the nature of things. Whatever is to be said of symbiotic servitude, Scotus says, this does not refer to the "slavery" that is discussed here as a possible impediment to marriage. Furthermore, what Aristotle says in Politics I, ch. 5, applies "only to political service, where superiors appoint inferiors, not as distributing or arranging inanimate things, but rather in the way the less gifted are assigned appropriate tasks by the more gifted."
The second objection is that if slavery is against the law of nature, how can it ever become just, for "crimes are not ratified by their longevity"? He indicates that with the exception of the two cases he has given for enslavement, slavery of any uther form is not justified. How, then, will he explain St. Paul's injunction that slaves should obey their masters? To this Scotus replies that many obligations may have originally been unjustly introduced, but once they have become established they should be observed. As a general principle, what he seems
Introduction to have in mind is that often less-than-desirable customs are to be endured as the lesser of two evils if a political revolution or civil war with all its devastating hardships becomes the only practical way to change the positive laws governing a particular commonwealth. More specifically his idea seems to be-and he introduces the notion only to justify the words of the Apostle to the Ephesians (6:5) and the Colossians
(3:22)-is that some form of symbiotic slavery, such as was practiced by the Romans, though "not something commendable in itself," was something a Christian might endure in a spirit of service. For as Paul said to the Corinthians: "Even supposing you could go free, you would be better off making the most of your slavery." This problem of how to correct an evil without doing more harm, we might recall, was something slave owners like Jefferson had to face. They did not regard slavery as something laudable, yet did not feel they could responsibly simply free their slaves, since they knew that the latter, like children, could not provide for themselves here, nor could they be sent back to the primitive tribes from which they were taken. This problem of how to correct an evil in a legal and orderly fashion is not always easy to solve; it is not only something legislators had to face at the time of the American Civil War, but something that continues to plague those charged with governing in countries where the ownership of the land or sources of economic productivity in the hands of a few have reduced the rest of the population to a form of labor that is equivalent to slavery.
In the second article, Scotus discusses whether slavery is an impediment to marriage. As we said earlier, one of the more important and successful ways in which the Church sought to better the condition of the slaves was to condemn the practice, common in many places, that forbade slaves to marry lest they compromise the legal civil rights of their masters to sell their servants to buyers from other parts of the world. Around 1230 Pope Gregory IX, himself an accomplished canonist, sought to update and revise the corpus of canon law developed by his papal predecessors. He devoted a special section to various previous papal decisions regarding the marriage of slaves, entitled "De coniugio servorum." Since many of these dated back to a time when slavery was an accepted social and economic institution, the popes intervened as mediators in disputes about the respective rights of Christian masters and slaves. One such intervention referred to the case where a slave married without the consent or against the will of his master, and the pope defended both the legitimacy of the slave's sacramental marriage and his obligation to render his master the service he legitimately owed according to the civil laws of the state or common-
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wealth. Scotus refers to this canonical decision in his own solution regarding the limited rights and obligations of a slave who marries when his master is unwilling. Generally speaking, where a sovereign city-state or commonwealth recognized some symbiotic form of slavery, the Church strove to defend both the natural rights of the slaves and the legitimate civil claims of their masters. This attempt of the Church to do justice to the rights of both masters and slaves occasioned later theologians to discuss what they considered the rationale behind the canonical legislation regarding the marriage of slaves.
Though they agreed substantially as to what the rights of each might be, they gave greatly different explanations as to why a slave could marry and, in particular, how far a person could voluntarily abdicate his natural rights or by violation of just criminal law so enslave himself that he could be justly bought or sold by his master or owner. It was in this context of their common assumption that both slave and master have legitimate rights that the late thirteenthand early fourteenthcentury medieval theologians and canonists discussed the question of whether slavery is a diriment impediment to a Christian sacramental marriage. Scotus, before presenting his own views, critically reviews the opinion held by St. Thomas and others. In view of what he has said previously about natural law, in its twofold sense, the threefold aspect of a Christian marriage, the origin of positive civil law, etc., what he says both by way of criticism and by way of a positive solution should be clear enough. Where a slave marries with the consent of his master, the latter has implicitly relaxed the service he might otherwise expect of one who has no marital obligations. If he does not, "that master sins mortally and clearly needs to be corrected by the Church as well." If the slave marries without the consent of his master, however, then according to canon law the marriage is valid, but the slave is still bound in justice to give the service he has voluntarily contracted for. The difficult problem comes when two slaves marry without their masters' consent and each master, presumably for a just reason, wants to send his slave to a different land, one to Africa and the other to France. The situation is not unlike the marriage of two working persons both of whose employers discover that their respective employees need to be sent to a different and distant city by the nature of their work and neither partner can afford or is willing to give up his or her job. "Legally [the] marriage is favored," says Scotus, and both masters should be induced to preserve it intact if they can. But if for economic or other legitimate reasons they cannot afford to do so and insist on breaking up the partners, "it is not clear"-says Scotus-"how they would be acting unjustly towards their servants, granting their
Introduction servile condition." Perhaps the validity of Williams' initial analogy of the similarity of slavery as a social and economic institution to that of remunerative employment in our own day will not be lost on those who deal with contemporary problems of divorce and separation. If the economic structure of much of present-day society is not exactly an enslavement, where both married partners feel the need or are compelled to work, or the nature of one's employment means lengthy separation from home and family, it often seems to have as devastating an effect on such unwise marriages as the medieval problem discussed by Scotus. In both cases, the basic difficulty is how to do justice to both what one's employer and what one's marital partner have a right to expect.
Be that as it may, Scotus, if a child of his age, still seems to have a more sympathetic and humanistic view of the plight of the slave than many of his medieval contemporaries. What makes his approach most different, perhaps, is the severe limitation he puts on what might justify the sort of slavery that could make marriage a practical, if not a legal, impossibility. As he says in answer to the initial arguments, it is clear no slave belongs to his master in every respect. Not only does he have a legal right to eat, drink, sleep, and engage in all activities that do not detract from the service he owes his master, but he has the legal right to marry. Even what Aristotle says of "that damnable form of servitude, where the slave is like an animal," should not be interpreted to mean that he actually is one.
Because no matter how much of a slave he might be, he is still a man and so has free will. And on this score, it is clear what great cruelty is involved in first imposing such servitude, for it reduces a man who is his own master and free to act in a manly and virtuous fashion, to the status of a brute animal, as it were, unable to choose freely or to act virtuously.
For that reason, we have placed this question in the chapter on sin, and entitled it, for want of a better name, "The sin of enslavement."
For some sin seems involved in all three cases of slavery that existed in Scotus' day. The common war-captive excuse for slavery Scotus rejects as unjust. Even the just punishment for criminal behavior implies the criminal has sinned. What of the third case, viz., voluntary contractual enslavement? True, Scotus does not absolutely condemn this, though he regards it as "stupid," and suspects it may even be in violation of the natural law. Yet, as a bachelor theologian arguing a canonical case with his peers, he cannot deny the existence of this distressing practice, or the fact that it was condoned and legally regulated by so many city-states and sovereignties from which his colleagues
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came. Yet as he develops this canonical question as scholastic dialogue with his contemporaries and himself, one can hardly doubt where his personal sympathy lies. For he uncovers so many areas where sin could enter in as to severely limit the possibilities that even voluntary enslavement could ever be fully justified, particularly as a lifelong or ongoing commitment.
The Latin original is taken from Codex A, ff. 255vb-56va, and is considerably clearer than the version presented in the Wadding edition. We have omitted only the introductory paragraphs to the question which give a general outline of all the canonical impediments to a sacramental marriage that were recognized by the Church at his time.
PART I The Will and Intellect
I. PRACTICAL SCIENCE
(Lectura pro!., pars 4, qq. 1-2) Is a science called speculative or practical because of its end?
[Preliminary Notions] We must first consider the generally accepted fact that practical knowledge extends to practice, because knowledge that remains within the intellect alone is theoretical knowledge.
Also note that praxis or practice is [x] an act of some power or faculty other than intellect, that [2] naturally follows an act of knowledge or intellection, and [3} is suited by nature to be elicited in accord with correct knowledge if it is to be right.
To begin with, praxis or practice is the act of some faculty other than intellect, because practical knowledge "extends" to it and does not just stay with itself.
It is also naturally posterior to intellection, for it must have some relationship of order to an act of the intellect. Hence, acts of the generative or nutritive potencies, which have no such order to the intellect, are not practical, nor can they be posterior [by nature] to the act of the intellect. And hence acts of the sense powers, be they cognitive or appetitive, are not practical because they precede intellection.
Also it is suited by nature to be elicited in agreement with right knowledge for the practice to be right. Hence, VI Ethics says that if the choice is to be right, then both intellect and appetite must be right. And similarly Augustine wants to say that the intellect comprehends itself as well as the acts of the other powers, and that it passes judgment on their acts.
The Will and Intellect From all this it follows that nothing is formally praxis except a commanded or elicited act of the will, because no act other than that of the will is elicited in agreement with a prior act of the intellect. For the actions of all the other powers could precede any act of the intellect, but not so with an act of the will.
From this one draws a further conclusion. Since a commanded act has the character of praxis only because some elicited act that could precede it possesses such, it follows that only the will's elicited act is primarily praxis. And because the formal meaning of praxis is to be found primarily in an act of the will, all other actions are practice only in virtue of some act of the will.
Furthermore, a practical act is in the power of the practitioner. But no action is solely in our power except an act of the will and by virtue of such. Hence, praxis or practice is primarily attributed to an act of the will.
Also, the Philosopher in III De anima, in the chapter about the sources of movement, assumes there are two such sources, because there are appetites that run counter to one another, namely, the sense appetite and the appetite guided by reason [Le., the will]. If therefore the action of the sense appetite apart from producing anything is praxis, all the more so is the mere act of the will.
[The Opinion of Others J [First opinion: Godfrey of Fontaines] Presupposing the above, certain persons claim the intellect is only incidentally practical, based on an accidental difference, whereas the knowledge-habit and act are called "practical" because of an essential difference. For intellect is said to be practical because of the end, since the intellect first shows the will some end, such as good health; then the will, from a desire of this end, moves the intellect to advise it as to the means whereby this end may be obtained; now the intellect, considering things in this fashion because an act of the will made it do so, is practical. Hence, the intellect is only accidentally practical, because it could have had this act without a command of the will. The act and habit of knowledge on the other hand are said to be practical because of their object, which assigns them their formal character.
[Scotus' refutation of this view] If the intellect is said to be practical from the end, whereas act and habit are practical because of their object, since the intellect can consider the object of a practical habit without having any practical end in mind, the intellect could have a practical act and not be practical.
What is more, a similar consequence follows, namely, that the prac-
Practical Science I29 tical habit could be in a theoretical intellect, since the intellect could simply contemplate such an object without being moved to do so for some practical purpose.
Furthermore, if the intellect can be called "practical" derivatively because of an act accidental to it, a fortiori it can be so called because of an act that is essentially practical.
Hence, I maintain that it is in virtue of the same thing that intellect, act, and habit are called practical, but nevertheless the intellect is only accidentally such, whereas the other two [viz., the act and habit] are essentially practical. But just what it is that makes them practical will be explained later.
[Second opinion: Henry of Ghent] Therefore, others say that a habit is said to be practical because of its end, since a habit must be practical either because of its object or because of its end. But it is not so because of its object, since the same object is considered sometimes theoretically, sometimes practically,' for "the intellect becomes practical by extension."
Furthermore, a practical action is good or bad by reason of what makes it practical. But goodness and badness come from the circumstances of the act, the chief of which is the purpose or end. Therefore a habit will be practical most of all because of its end.
[Refutation of this view] If a habit becomes practical, because of its extension to some end and to praxis, this is because of either an actual or an aptitudinal extension. But it is not because of an actual extension, because then a physician who does not wish to operate would not be practical. But if it is because of an aptitudinal extension, then we have this situation. There is no aptitude in this thing that is inconsistent with another thing unless it be by virtue of the nature of the things in question. And because it is in such a thing, that thing is that sort of nature. Therefore, it is not because of the extension to an end that a habit is practical.
Furthermore, if what makes a knowledge-habit practical is that it results in praxis, then this is because practice is an actual effect it elicits as an operative potency or because practice is the subject of its consideration. But it is not the former, because praxis in this sense is posterior to the knowledge-habit, and the reason or cause [the habit is practical] must be prior [to its subsequent effect]. If it is praxis as something considered and intended by practical knowledge, then praxis has the character of an object, and consequently the habit is called practical because of its object.
What is more, praxis generally is not the end result [i. e., the action commanded by the will, but the will-act itself}j therefore the habit
I3 0 The Will and Intellect does not become the specific thing it is because of its end. Proof of the antecedent: an imperfect act cannot be the end of a perfect act; but the act of a power that is appetitive, sensitive, and source of movement is less perfect than an act of the intellect. Therefore, [it cannot be the end of an intellectual act or habit of knowledge].
[A third opinion, also that of Godfrey] Therefore certain persons, wishing to correct this view, say that knowledge is called practical not because of its final result, which is praxis and work, but because the same intellectual potency in which the knowledge-habit resides is actually considering [praxis and work] and this act of consideration, as its proximate end, is what the habit of knowledge immediately achieves.
[Refutation] To the contrary: Why, I ask, is this consideration called practical? It is not because of the intellect, because this as such is indifferently theoretical or practical; neither is it because of the end [or subsequent results]' as was proved earlier. And by the same token, there would have to be some prior cause why the habit is called practical other than this consideration. Therefore, it is by reason of its object that knowledge is called practical, which is our thesis.
[Scotus' Personal Opinion] Therefore we have to say a habit is called practical or theoretical by reason of its object, because the only cause prior to the habit is either the intellect or its object. But since of itself intellect is neither practical nor theoretical, intellect cannot be the reason why its knowledge is practical . . .
Is theology a practical science?
Some [like Henry of Ghent] say theology is not practical but theoretical, because there is a twofold act of the will, one of which regards the end and the other the means to that end. But here the principal intent is the end itself and not the means thereto. Now, the will needs no directive habit as regards the end, but merely requires that it be shown the end. It does need directives, however, regarding the means to attain such an end.
This is also proved by a citation from [Augustine's] sermon "On Jacob and Esau," where it is said that "every action ought to be in order to cleanse the eye and see God."
Furthermore, our theology is the same as that of the blessed [in heaven]. But theirs is not practical, because they need no directive, for then there could be error [in their knowledge of God].
[Refutation of Henry] To the contrary: the first argument actually establishes the opposite of what they propose. For I concede the afore-
Practical Science 13 1 said dual act of the will. Nevertheless the will could under different circumstances have opposite acts (good or bad, intense or remiss) when the ultimate end is shown to it in particular, though not in regard to the ultimate end in general. But where some faculty is indifferent with respect to certain acts, one of which is suited to it whereas the other is not, there a directive habit is needed and required. But the end of theology is not the good in general, but this particular good [viz., God].
Hence theology is practical, directing one to a particular end.
Furthermore, a practical habit is postulated not because of the substantive character of the act, but because of the circumstances under which it is performed. For example, a moral habit directs one not in regard to the act of eating as such, but in regard to how to eat, namely, temperately. Therefore, even though the will were determined to have the substance of an act that regards the end in particular, nevertheless it requires a directive habit in regard to that act as qualified by circumstances.
Furthermore, what we want to know about most of all provided it is not knowledge for the sake of knowledge, is what we want to love the most. But God in himself is the one we want to love the most, and hence love of God is the end or object we most desire, and the knowledge we want most of all is knowledge of God. Therefore the principles here are practical; ergo, etc.
What is more, directive knowledge which is about those things conducive to the end is of the same sort as is knowledge of the end, since the cognition of the end is first and is the cause of the cognition of the means to the end. If one is practical, therefore, the other will be practical also.
As for the proof from authority, this refers to external acts commanded by the will.
Another opinion [that of Godfrey of Fontaines] claims that theology is both practical and theoretical and it does not exist as a single habit of knowledge but as two. If one were to write into a single volume bit by bit a mixture of philosophical and legal items, the resulting doctrine contained therein would pertain no less to two distinct knowledge-habits. It is that way with the Scriptures, where it is not only that one part, or one chapter, contains the theoretical and another speaks of what has to be done, but even at times one verse contains what is to be believed and the next verse what is to be done.
Therefore, theology is both practical and theoretical.
They give this sort of argument. No theoretical science treats of practical things in any more detail than is necessary for knowing that theoretical science; on the other hand, neither does a practical sci-
The Will and Intellect ence treat of theoretical things in any more detail than is necessary to know that practice in question. But here we have both. For the Scriptures treat of what is to be done as if it were concerned solely with this, and the same is true of theoretical items. Therefore, there are two different habits of knowledge here. This is clear from what the Philosopher says in I Ethics about not treating of the powers of the soul except insofar as is needed to treat of the virtues which reside therein.
[Refutation of Godfrey] Using his argument one can argue to the opposite conclusion in this way. Every science that deals with theoretical items in no greater detail than is necessary for praxis is practical and not theoretical. But any knowledge about the ultimate end and of what is conducive to attaining it is such that the more a well-disposed man knows about this, the more he is disposed to love God. Hence the blessed, who know more about him, love him more. And here on earth, the more one knows of the wonderous works of God, the more one is ordained to praise and love God.
[Scotus' PersOTIilI Opinion} Therefore one must say that theology is purely and simply a practical habit. For it is a practical consideration that is the sort of consideration that is naturally prior to praxis, in agreement with which practice is suited by nature to be elicited in the right way. Hence, it is said in VI Ethics: "The end of practical knowledge is truth in agreement with right desire." There are two conditions, then, for a consideration to be practical. One is agreement with praxis, and this it has from its object, which it apprehends directly. The other is the note of priority, which it has from the intellect. Therefore the intellect apprehending an object according to rules from which praxis can be caused through the movement of the will is practical. But the intellect perfected by the habit of theology apprehends God as one who should be loved and according to rules from which praxis can be elicited.
Therefore, the habit of theology is practical.
[Solution of Some Doubts} [I] What has been said about theology's being a practical science and concerned with contingent matters raises a doubt whether it is a science at all. For if it is practical, then it has to do with contingent matters; and if it is concerned with contingencies, then it is not a science. From the outset, then, if theology is practical, it is not a science. This second implication is clear from the Philosopher's statement in the Ethics that science differs from deliberative knowledge because deliberative knowledge has to do with contingencies, whereas science is in the scientific portion of the intellect and not in that part that calculates or deliberates. This is also confirmed by the definition
Practical Science I33 of science or scientific knowledge in the Posterior Analytics, where it is said that "to know a thing scientifically is to know its causes," etc.
[2] Also, if theology is a practical habit of knowledge, then it has to do with actions or what can be done; therefore it is "a habit involving true reasoning that enables one to act well." But this is the definition of prudence, and prudence is not a science [according to the Philosopher]; therefore, it follows as before that theology is not a science.
[3] Furthermore, on the above assumption that theology is about the ultimate end, it follows that it is not practical. Proof of the implication: we show that "praxis is nothing other than the operation following choice" and choice is not about the end but about the means thereto. The assumption then is shown through what the Philosopher says in VI Ethics: "Choice is the principle of action, its efficient, not its final, cause." But an efficient principle precedes the effect. Also, the assumed proposition is established by reason: a practical habit is generated from praxes, and is produced by acts following choice, because according to II Ethics a habit is generated from similar acts and inclines one to repeat such. From such like, then, is it produced, and hence the act following choice will be praxis. . .
[To I] To the first of these it must be said that the argument is invalid, for if it held, no science would be practical. If the contingent is the object of a practical habit of knowledge, and nothing contingent can be an object of science, it follows that no science is practical; nevertheless, philosophers distinguish between practical and theoretical science. For the Philosopher makes this point in VI Metaphysics:
"If therefore all science is either theoretical or about acting or making," etc. And the "if" is not added to weaken the statement but only notes its implication and the Philosopher's mode of speech. In his
Metaphysics I Avicenna makes the same distinction of sciences.
Therefore, I say there are necessary truths about contingent things, because while it is contingent that a stone fall, nevertheless there are necessary truths about its descent, such as that it seeks the center and that it descends in a straight line. Similarly, for me to love God is contingent, and nevertheless there can be a necessary truth in regard to this, such as that I should love God above all. And this can be inferred demonstratively in the following fashion. "God is that greater than which nothing can be thought"; therefore he is supremely lovable; therefore I ought to love him above all. This science, then, is truly about something contingent contained in the first object, although it is not contained there primarily, and nevertheless it is about necessary truths which can be concluded about contingent things. And when the implication is proved that "if it is about something contingent,
The Will and Intellect then it is not a science according to the Philosopher in VI Ethics, for otherwise one would confuse a deliberative and a scientific habit of knowledge if both could be about the same contingent thing," the following needs to be said. It is true that two diverse objects could not belong to a single potency or habit (for then the habit would not be one and nevertheless it would depend completely upon each one and it would simultaneously be and not be if the other object were destroyed). Nevertheless the same object under the same aspect so far as its role as object is concerned, can pertain to two potencies, such as intellect and will, as will be explained below. Similarly, there can be two habits, although the same object can not pertain to two potencies so far as the aspects go which follow the act. Hence it is that when diverse things are included primarily in something, it can be the object of diverse habits. It would be like the two properties of a binary, one that it is an even number, the other that it is a prime number.
And therefore something contingent is not excluded entirely from the object of a science. Hence even though something contingent be the object of a deliberative habit, such as prudence, as regards those conclusions one can necessarily draw about such a contingent thing, that same item is the object of a scientific habit.
[To 2] As for the other, one must admit the argument is invalid, for then prudence would be a moral habit, because it too is "a habit involving true reasoning that enables one to act well." And in such a case, one who knew moral science would necessarily be prudent, and hence would have all the virtues, which is false.
Therefore, I say that "practical reason" refers to such knowledge as is immediately and proximately practical, whereas other knowledge that precedes this [logically] is more remotely practical, such as the first principle from which one ought to begin to arrive discursively at such a conclusion or end. And a precept or dictate about such an initial principle is itself practical in the proper sense of the term. It is just that the conclusion "One should eat soberly" is more immediately conformed to praxis than is the principle "One should live uprightly," from which it is nevertheless inferred necessarily. Hence prudence is simply a habit that is more immediately directed towards practice, so that a prudent person knows immediately the means to use and does not have to reason backwards from principles to other prior principles.
A science, like moral philosophy, however, is only mediately practical, because it teaches how one should behave in regard to actions through a process of reasoning. Hence, just as an artist with a knowledge of his art in mind is more remotely practical than one who knows
[how to do or make something] simply from experience and not deduc-
Practical Science I35 tively from any art he possesses, so too one who knows the science of morals is more remotely practical than one who possesses prudence.
[To 3] As for the claim that [theology is not practical because it has to do with our ultimate end] we must answer that praxis is primarily concerned with the end, though choice [in the technical sense of selecting the means to attain the end] may not be involved here. Nevertheless, the praxis which has to do with means to the end is included in the praxis which has to do with the end itself.
And when it is said that, according to the Philosopher, "praxis follows the choice, which is its [efficient] principle," I say it was not the Philosopher's intent that praxis consists primarily in such acts as follow choice. One can show this as follows. There are practical principles, such as right reason and the [intellectual habit] of moral knowledge, that have a bearing on one's choice, as is clear from that same
Bk. VI [of the Ethics]. And if the principles are practical, the conclusions that follow will be practical.-Also, the habit inclines one to repeat the same sort of acts that produced the habit to begin with; but a practical habit inclines one to make a choice, because choice is the first act elicited by the moral habit; therefore, the moral habit will be generated by this [sort of] act.
For that reason I say that the acts following choice are truly practical, though they are only accidental to practice, because the practical moral habit does not extend necessarily to external objects. For it is not required of every liberal person that he or she actually perform such executive acts as follow their choosing to be liberal, since one destitute of money could be liberal at heart, desiring to carry out such liberality through imaginary acts. And the same is true of the contingent. Hence, choice is the moving principle, because the will is its source, and it is to this [act of the will] that praxis refers primarily, and only after this [i.e., secondarily] does it refer to those other acts to which the dictum "Choice is their moving principle" applies.
As for the other point, that "a practical habit is generated from praxes," I have this to say. [a] Either this remark is not to be understood in its proper sense, since it is practical actions other than praxes that produce the practical habit [of knowledge], for "praxes" refers to acts of some potency other than the intellect. [b] Or one must say that even though the practical habit inclines one to perform actions following one's choice, it nevertheless first inclines one to make such a choice.