PART TWO

APPLICATION OF THE CRITERION TO DEMONSTRATE
THE TRUTH OF PURE KNOWLEDGE

CHAPTER 1 (Part 2)

The intuition of being, the source of all certainty,
is shown to be justified per se

1090. From what has been said it is clear that we should consider the famous question, 'How can an ens perceive something different from itself?', as alien to the discussion about knowledge and human certainty. We cannot plumb the depths of this question without exceeding the limits of solid knowledge.

The legitimate method of sound philosophy requires attentive observation of facts, which have to be classified and ordered, and reduced, as far as possible, to some primordial fact on which all the rest depend. Anyone who remains unsatisfied after discovering this primordial fact, and imagines that he has to carry on searching for some further explanation, leaves himself open to the danger of endless, vain hypotheses or sterile speculation. As a final step, he will also throw a suffocating blanket of scepticism over every other aspect of knowledge simply because he has not succeeded in finding something which, because it does not exist, he should never have looked for.(34)

1091. In our discussion, the primordial fact is the intuition of being in all its universality. This intuition draws us to an act terminating beyond ourselves as subjects, and ending in an indeterminate objects.
The way in which we see being in all its universality as something in itself, objectively and independently of ourselves, is another incontrovertible fact. When this has been recognised, the whole difficulty experienced in explaining innumerable, particular facts is lifted. I am speaking about the difficulty arising from the question: 'How can we perceive something different from ourselves?'

The intuition of being in all its universality shows the possibility of seeing things in themselves, and actually constitutes the potency and act of this vision precisely because being, when intuited, is intuited in itself.
Wanting to explain this primary fact by means of yet another preceding fact in the same logical order is as intemperate as wanting to simplify further a number already reduced to unity, that is, to its first, simple element.

1092. Sceptics abuse this process by reasoning along the following lines: 'We cannot understand how an ens can perceive something different from itself. When a human being or any other intellective ens, seems to perceive something different from itself, we have to say that it only perceives something apparently different from itself. In reality, it does not perceive anything different from itself; it perceives itself and nothing more.'

In this kind of reasoning we see theory assailing and destroying fact; ignorance erasing truth.

My reply to the sceptics runs as follows. You say that we conceive being as different from ourselves in appearance only; in reality it is not different from us. But if, as you say, being appears to me as different from myself, I must conceive it as different from me. Appearing to me means being conceived by me. Note that I am not affirming that this being which I perceive in itself is different from or identical with me. I am simply saying that I conceive it as different from me. I am establishing the fact which you yourselves grant me. There is only one difference between us: the use we make of the fact we both admit. I say that if I conceive being as something different from myself, I have the faculty of conceiving things different from me. I do in fact conceive one thing in this way, and in it and with it conceive all other things. I am not asking whether this faculty of mine is deceptive.

It is enough for me to affirm that my mind has an object independent of itself, whatever the truth or falsehood of this object. You begin by establishing, prior to every fact, that it is impossible for my mind to go outside itself and conceive something as independent of itself. You go on to conclude that being, conceived as different from the mind, cannot be different from the mind which, therefore, deceives itself. But can't you see that you have thus overstepped the limits of the question? The difficulty, and the question itself, consists simply in knowing whether the mind conceives anything different from itself. We are not asking if what it conceives corresponds or not to its conception. In declaring that it does not correspond, you grant that its conception terminates in something outside itself and different from itself. The object, as conceived by the mind, is not the mind itself. You cannot therefore deny the nature of this conception nor, in this case, distinguish conceiving from appearing; here, appearing is conceiving. Moreover, saying that the object, in so far as it is not conceived by the mind, does not correspond to the concept the mind has of it, is to pass judgment on something not conceived, and consequently totally unknown. You have exceeded the limits of your capacity.

1093. However, let this pass for now. I want to follow you in your imaginings and hypotheses. Let us grant, therefore, that the object conceived by the mind is not different from the mind itself, that is, from the perceiving subject. In this case, doesn't the subject itself, when you think it, become the object of your thought? When something is the object of our thought, therefore, it does not change its nature. Notwithstanding its status as object, it still remains what it was before. It can remain subject, and nevertheless be simultaneously the object of our thought.

If this is so, the phrase, 'The mind thinks things different from itself', can only mean that it thinks things as its objects. But how can these two expressions, 'thinking things different from itself' and 'things being objects of its thought', be synonymous?

Object of thought means that something is present to us in itself. 'Something in itself' means 'something in its own existsence'; and since existing and being present is different from acting, the object of thought is essentially something different from us in so far as we are thinking.

This is true even when I think about myself. In that act I, the subject, become the object of my thought, and in thinking about myself I consider myself in so far as I exist in me, and no more. The essence, therefore, of thought is that it terminate in an object, that is, in something different from the thinking subject as such. Ens, as the object of thought, that is, as different from the subject, cannot bring the authority and veracity of thought into question. On the contrary, we are so imbued with conceiving things different from ourselves that we cannot even conceive ourselves intellectually without considering ourselves as objectivised and different from the actually thinking subjects.

1094. The sceptics' arguments would be valid for other entia, if there were any, furnished with a manner of mental conception totally different from our own. These entia would have to conceive things not in their objective existence, but as identical with themselves as conceiving subjects. An intellective ens of this nature could affirm on behalf of them all: 'We conceive all things as part of ourselves. But that is impossible. Rather, we should be prepared to believe that things conceived in this way are created in the very act by which we conceive them. These conceptions of ours cannot possibly be true.'

Such a doubt, however, could never in fact arise in the minds of one of these entia. It could be prompted only in an ens possessing the faculty of seeing things as they are. Sceptics themselves, therefore, must have the faculty to conceive something different from themselves in order to bring the existence of this faculty into doubt. But a conception which does not exit from the subject is a concept in conflict with itself. It is at one and the same time a conception and not a conception.

1095. Finally, the legitimacy of thought is evident of itself if its nature is considered attentively. This nature consists in thinking things in themselves, as we do in fact think them. It is identical with thinking things in their own existence which, in turn, is called the truth of our conception.

In brief, according to the sceptics, things have two existences: 1. as perceived by us; 2. as not perceived by us. The perceived existence is existence in se, objective existence, and hence concerns the way in which things appear to us objectively. According to the sceptics, this perceived existence is false and illusory. The real existence, that is, as not perceived by us, must therefore be existence identical with ourselves precisely because we perceive only subjectively.

But these propositions are obviously contradictory. If existence in itself is perceived by us, and existence imagined as subjective is not perceived by us, is not the true existence that which we perceive? And the false or rather null existence, that is, the chimera brought to birth by the sceptics themselves, is it not the existence we do not perceive?(35)

1096. We have resolved the three fundamental doubts of the sceptics through the analysis of truth, or idea of being, which provides three characteristics, each of which is suitable for refuting one of the doubts. These three characteristics of being intuited by us are: 1. its simplicity (it represents itself alone); 2. its objectivity, and 3. its perfect indetermination.

In its simplicity, it neither represents anything outside itself, nor contains any judgment; its presence to us is a fact. In other words, it cannot be the source of illusion or deceit. The first doubt is resolved.

In its objectivity, it is different from and contrary to the subject which perceives it. It constitutes the subject's intellect, that is, a power without subjective reference which sees things outside place and time. The second doubt, about the intellect's capacity for getting outside itself, is resolved. This doubt is founded upon a metaphor taken from bodily images which, when translated into appropriate expressions, is proved meaningless. The doubt then collapses of its own accord without need of further reflection.

In its indeterminateness,(36) being cannot determine anything, although it can receive determinations furnished by the things presented to it. It is impossible, therefore, and contrary to fact, to assert that our knowledge of things can receive from our intellect a subjective mode or particular form different from that which things have in themselves.

Finally, I showed that these doubts could not have arisen in the mind of any philosopher who had followed the path of facts and rejected a false method of vain hypotheses and vague, confused creations of the imagination.

1097. But, I am happy to say, my confutation of modern sceptics is not original. It is contained in the deposit of ancient Christian tradition, together with the method which starts from primordial, secure facts, and reasons about them. Abandoning that method, sophists(37) have plunged us, all unawares, into ignorance, doubt and every kind of mental unease. Proof of this will be found in a brief exposition of Christian philosophy about the nature of the knowledge of truth, and of the truth's relationship with the spirit.

1098. According to this philosophy, the method to be followed in coming to understand the soul requires us: 1. to start from the fact of knowledge; and 2. to proceed from the examination of this fact to establish what the soul can or cannot do, that is, to decide its properties, faculties, and so on.(38)

In this way the philosophy we are examining moves from the same point as ourselves, that is, from the fact of the existence of knowledge which, on analysis, is reduced to perfect simplicity, that is, to the fact of being in all its universality which cannot contain any illusion in itself.

Analysing this fact of intellective knowledge, antiquity found, as we have, that it was primarily objective: 'The act of cognition,' says St. Thomas, 'extends to things outside the knower.'(39) This is the primordial fact. St. Thomas and those like him did not say, as the moderns do: 'This fact is impossible and is, therefore, only an appearance.' They said: 'This fact exists and is, therefore, true and real.' They did not ask: 'How can the knower go outside himself?' but: 'We have found that the knower goes outside himself. This is, therefore, possible.'

1099. They carried on reasoning in the following way. Knowledge, if it is objective, is not confined to the subject, but considers things in their own existence, not in the existence of the subject as though they were modifications of the subject. Knowledge, therefore, must be universal, that is, able to extend to all things which have or can have their own proper existence, and hence to every possible thing. They then concluded that bodies cannot know because they are determined to a sole, particular form; the intelligent subject, on the other hand, must be immaterial, that is, void of every bodily determination and restrictive form. St. Thomas affirms: 'Through matter, the form of any thing is determined and restricted to a particular being. It is clear, therefore, that the concept of knowledge is precisely the opposite of the concept of materiality. It is equally impossible also for things which receive their form only materially, such as plants, to be intelligent.'(40)

Moreover, if we examine the nature of intellective knowledge, we see that the characteristic of universality, which is comprised in that of objectivity and revealed as a result of the analysis of objectivity, is also seen directly. We know not only different, but contrary things. This led antiquity to affirm that the mind was capable of perceiving all things (intellectus omnia cognoscit). And indeed whoever can perceive the 'Yes' and 'No' of anything is not determined towards nothing. There is no middle case between two contraries to determine anyone who perceives. This was a fact noted even in classical philosophy. Empedocles, who had considered it only imperfectly, thought he could explain it by supposing the soul to be composed of the elements of all things. I say that he had observed it imperfectly because he had restricted himself to noting that 'the soul knows different things'. He overlooked the fact that the soul 1. knows not only the elements of things, but things themselves; 2. knows not only different but contrary things, and consequently is disposed to know equally well both the yes and no of anything whatsoever.

1100. Empedocles' error (I am speaking of his teaching as Aristotle seems to have understood it) is common to all materialists who imagine that ideas are similar in substance to things. The idea of light, for example, would be formed of some kind of phosphorus (as the Englishman, Hook, maintained), and so on for other ideas.

As far as I know antiquity did not dispute this aspect of the matter with Empedocles. But it did rebuke him for imperfect observation of the universality of knowledge, and especially for the first of his two imperfect observations by which he overlooked the fact that knowledge enables us to know not only the principles of things, but things themselves. Philosophers of antiquity maintained, in reply to Empedocles, that if the soul were to be composed of all the (physical) principles which make up things (this would indeed be the case if everything had to be known by means of its own likeness), the soul itself would have to result from as many tiny bodies or entia as there are knowable bodies and things, as well as from the principles of bodies. Consequently Anaxagoras, followed by Aristotle, maintained against Empedocles that the soul had to be immaterial, unmixed with anything else, and totally free from corporeal determinations if it were to be capable of knowing all things.

We are dealing, therefore, with a single fact, admitted by all: the universality of knowledge. Some later Greek authors explained this fact differently from their predecessors. All agreed, however, that the universality of knowledge required a universal power in the soul, that is, a power which could extend to all possible things. The earlier philosophers conceived the universal power only in a material way, and hence imagined it as made up of all the elements; the later philosophers, realising the futility of this explanation, saw that the opposite must be true. According to them, this power of the soul was universal in so far as it was not composed of anything coming from determinate things. These philosophers affirmed this universality of the soul, therefore, as a power determined in itself to nothing, and hence capable of being determined in its effects. It thus gave rise to the knowledge of all possible things indifferently. This accounts for Aristotle's tabula rasa.

1101. In modern times, the opposite has taken place. The fact of universal knowledge has been declared impossible not because it could be denied (it could not), but because it is considered a deception. The presupposition of modern times requires a determinate soul determining its own acts of knowledge. Such a process of reasoning is the effective annihilation of all good sense. Universal knowledge is first granted; then it is affirmed that the soul determines and limits its own knowledge, stamping it with the seal of universality. Such reasoning disregards the fact that predicating universality of knowledge is the opposite of determining and limiting it, and of rendering it subjective.

1102. St. Thomas says:

According to St. Thomas, the universality of knowledge is a fact rendering absurd Kant's restrictive forms. As we said, it is a clear contradiction to maintain that the universality of knowledge is the work of restrictive forms. The forms that produce universality do not restrict knowledge in any way; rather they remove every restriction and determination.

1103. Every error, however, is a camouflaged or mistaken truth, and in this case it is not difficult to see that Kant abused the truth of St. Thomas' principle: 'The intellect makes the species or ideas like itself because every agent produces what is similar to itself.'(42) But how did subjective forms take their origin from this badly understood truth?

It was first supposed and then affirmed that in communicating its own nature to ideas and giving them its form, the intellect furnished ideas with a particular, restrictive and subjective form. This supposition, the result of our modern materialism, resulted from taking the concept of form from corporeal forms, which are indeed restrictive and particular. For St. Thomas, however, the opposite is true. The form of which he speaks, with which the intellect informs its own perceptions and makes them like itself, is of a nature directly opposed to that of bodily form. It is a universal, not a particular form; it does not impose, but removes restrictions. The act by which the intellect communicates its own form to our perceptions is the very act by which its universalises them (cf. vol. 2, 490). In this way, the intellect considers things in their own proper, objective (not subjective) being. Hence St. Thomas affirms that the immateriality of this form constitutes the power of understanding.(43) This form is not, therefore, a form according to present-day understanding, as our moderns obviously consider it, but in the sense used by antiquity, which consists in the privation of every form understood in the modern sense. If the form of the intellect is universal, that is, perfectly indeterminate, and hence perfectly indifferent to the perception of all possible beings, and such that this form is only the intuition of possibility itself,(44) then (and this is the conclusion of the writers of antiquity whom we have in mind) the intellect receives an unrestricted, infinite power.

St. Thomas says: 'The infinite is found in potency in our intellect' (the form of the intellect, because it is indeterminate, has per se no actual knowledge of anything real, although it can have such knowledge). 'Hence, our intellect can never understand so many things that it cannot understand more again.' Again: 'The intellect knows the infinite in so far as the intellect is infinite according to the power it possesses' (its form). 'The intellect's power is infinite because... it is cognitive in relationship to what is universal...; consequently the intellect does not terminate in some individual, but relative to itself(45) extends to infinite individuals.'(46)

1104. Having taken careful note of the fact that intellective knowledge is universal and infinite because limitlessly extended to everything, they also realised that it is and must be necessary: 'The form of what is understood is furnished at the level of intellect with universality, immateriality and unchangeableness. This becomes clear when we observe the activity itself of the intellect which understands universally and necessarily.'(47)

1105. Provided we note carefully that universality is only the possibility of anything, it is easy to see that the two qualities, necessity and universality, spring from one another. What is necessary has its origin in what is possible: we call necessary that which unites in itself every possibility in such a way that anything contrary to it is impossible.

We can see this in the following proposition: 'My friend Maurice is either alive or not alive.' This is a necessary proposition because the two contrary cases, alive or not alive, permit no middle case. Necessity, therefore, is that which includes within itself every possibility in such a way that nothing contrary is possible. But the form of the intellect is precisely total possibility. The intellect, therefore, understands necessarily, that is, it sees the relationship between possibility and everything understood, and its intellection becomes necessary by means of the relationship.

1106. This explains the insistence of the Fathers of the Church, who maintain that the intelligent spirit is furnished with an uncircumscribed light (one without any particular, restrictive form) or, equivalently, furnished with a form which is 1. universal, indeterminate, immaterial, infinite (words which have more or less the same meaning); and 2. necessary (hence, unchangeable, and per se everlasting).

Moreover, the Fathers saw and noted unity in the universality and necessity of knowledge. Universality is founded upon the knowledge provided by a single species of some thing or quality multiplied infinitely in an infinite number of individuals. Consequently, the unity of the species brings together and unites the multiplicity of things. Similarly, necessity is formed only by the one supreme species of form which represents the most common quality (if we may call it that) of things. In other words, it is formed by being, which unites and reduces to unity all particular possibilities.

As a result of their analysis of human knowledge, Church writers discovered that in its final form(48) knowledge was perfectly one, universal or uncircumscribed, immaterial, infinite, necessary, unchangeable, eternal.

1107. Having established this fact,(49) they concluded that it could not come from the feelings nor from our spirit, that is, from the subject.(50) It does not come from the senses because sensations have neither unity, universality, necessity, unchangeableness, nor any of the characteristics listed above. It does not come from ourselves as knowing subjects because we are limited, contingent and changeable, and cannot therefore give to others what we do not possess. The attributes of our knowledge are contrary to our own subjective attributes, and surpass in dignity not only our own power, but that of any finite being whatsoever.

1108. St. Augustine, having analysed intellective knowledge and found that it consists essentially in judging,(51) soon realised as he proceeded with the analysis that knowledge contains a fundamental unity, because no judgment can be made without unity. He concludes, therefore, that such knowledge cannot come from the senses because, as he says, 'no one, on examining a body, can... ever find it truly and simply one. All bodies change their appearance or their location, and are made up of parts, each in its own place, and divided and scattered in different spaces by means of these places. It is certain... that a true, first unity is understood and seen only with the mind, never with the eyes of the body or any other sense.'(52)

1109. The great masters of whom we have been speaking go on to show that the formal element of our intellective knowledge cannot be an emanation of our limited nature. The author of the Itinerarium argues from the unchangeableness of knowledge and the changeableness of our nature as follows:
Because our mind is changeable, it cannot see truth, which shines unchangeably, except by means of another altogether unchangeable light. This light cannot be a changeable creature.(53)

St. Thomas uses the perfect indetermination and universality of formal knowledge to show that it cannot be the essence of some limited nature, that is, it cannot be any finite, determinate being.

Neither the essence of angels nor that of human beings can emit from itself the indeterminate, universal knowledge of which we are speaking.

That by which we know anything must be like what is known. If, then, the angel's power were such that it could know all things of itself, this power would indeed be the likeness and act of all things - which cannot, of course, be granted.

It is, therefore, necessary for other intelligible species to be added in the role of likenesses to the intellective power of angels. By means of these likenesses angels can know what they come to understand.(54)

St. Thomas goes on to conclude it is impossible to make formal knowledge emanate from the essence itself of the spirit. This can be predicated only of God whose essence is infinite and the universal principle of all things.(55)

This passage enables us to understand how St. Thomas' perspicacity foresaw the conclusion we have already reproved in modern critical philosophy which, by drawing the form of knowledge from the human spirit, 'makes a god of the human being'. This impotent, but always foolhardy human spirit will be the new god of the universe, like the king tragically begged from Jove by Aesop's frogs.

1110. St. Augustine, on the basis of his observation (observation is another point from which we must begin) that the form of knowledge is the rule with which we judge not only all other things, but even ourselves as subjects, deduces that formal knowledge cannot emanate from the essence of the subject. Subjects cannot be the cause or judge of such a rule, which in any case does not depend upon them. They have to receive it just as it is, and they must submit to it. This form, or supreme rule of judgment, is properly named truth.

Since this law governing all that can be done is totally unchangeable, and since the human mind, granted the vision of this law, is capable of the change wrought by error, it is clear that there is a law superior to our mind, a law called TRUTH.

He goes on:

When the soul feels that it cannot of itself judge the beauty and movement of bodies... it must realise that the nature according to which it judges, and about which it can form no judgment, is far superior to itself.

Again:

We ourselves, and all rational souls, judge rightly when we judge according to truth; and truth alone judges us when we adhere to it.(56)

Note that this truth, so superior to ourselves, according to which we judge things and by which we are judged, has nothing superior to itself by which it can be judged, and is the very form in which, according to St. Augustine, we know all things. This form in turn is the idea of being in all its universality, which we have discovered through our analysis of human acts of knowledge: 'If both of us see that what you say is true and what I say is true, where do we see this? I certainly do not see it in you, nor you in me. We both see it in the same immutable truth which is above our minds.'(57)

1111. Reasons of this kind stimulated the ancient sages to make it their first concern to show that human nature cannot be the cause of truth, and to rid the human race of the profound absurdity finally embraced by modern philosophy which has despoiled truth of its attributes and surrendered them to the human spirit. Making the changeable unchangeable and the unchangeable changeable is to set up mankind as a hideous idol. This is the work that the cunning ruler of darkness has been able to renew in the current light of Christian history. But those are safe from this error who listen attentively and lovingly to the great tradition of the Church which proclaims unceasingly and unanimously to human beings: 'Do not think that you yourself are the light.'(58)

(34) I refer to the final logical reason presented to us by the fact of our first intuition. In the logical order, there can be no reason beyond this, although there can be other kinds of reasons (final, ontological reasons) in whose series we never attain the vision of the final reason. But we do see the final reason in a series of logical reasons because this is essential to reason. St. Augustine's celebrated phrase, Quidquid super illam (rationalem creaturam) est, iam Creator est [Whatever is superior to that (the rational creature) is ipso facto the Creator], has to be understood of this rational order.

(35) The sceptics' error arises also because they confuse existence with the specific essence of anything. When I say that I affirm something as it exists in itself, I do not mean that I perceive it in its real specific essence. Perfect objectivity consists only in perceiving the first of these two things, that is, existence. In other words, it consists in applying the idea of being in all its universality to things. This idea is the source of objectivity and indeed that which properly speaking constitutes objectivity. On the other hand, our perception of the essence of things could be mixed with something subjective. This is true especially of our perception of bodies, as we have seen in volume 2. We repeat, therefore that the known essence of anything is not always the intact, pure, real, specific essence of that thing. Something can be lacking to known essences, as in the case of generic essences (cf. vol. 2, 646 ss.) or nominal essences especially. Some known essences can also contain subjective elements which, however, it is always possible for us to discern and separate from the objective element, thanks to our faculty of objective perception.

(36) Here, I am consistently referring to ideal being, that is, to the idea of being, not of subsistent being.

(37) I have said elsewhere that the great merit of modern times, which began with Leonardo and Galileo, is to have publicised and popularised the method dependent upon facts. The defect of modern times lies in not practising this method. Many authors are clearly intent on following it and are to be commended for their resolution, although unwittingly they often abandon it. The majority, however, make fools of themselves with their endless boasting about following a method which they practise in appearance only. Their tasteless pride will certainly be mocked in the near future, if not altogether forgotten, by those who come after them. For myself, I am content to note that we do not always carry out what we believe we want and believe we do; much less do we actually carry out what we say we want. As far as arguing according to this method is concerned, I am prepared to affirm that knowing the method in principle is one thing; understanding how to use it in fact is another. We should not give credence too easily to those who insist they know how to follow it; we should first check their ability to do so before entrusting ourselves to beautiful, but possibly empty words.

(38) St. Thomas establishes this method in De Verit., 10, 8. The sceptical followers of transcendental philosophy do the opposite. Instead of saying: 'The mind does this; therefore it has the power to do it,' they say: 'The mind does not have the power to do this; therefore it can do it only apparently.' They arbitrarily and hypothetically restrict the power of the mind, and on the basis of these arbitrary assumptions declare the facts connected with the mind to be appearances. What they dare not deny plainly and clearly, they deny by equivocation. If the fact exists, it is real and valid; to grant a fact of this kind, and declare it worthless, is a contradiction, as we have said over and over again.

(39) S.T., I, q. 84, art. 2.

(40) Ibid.

(41) De An., III, bk. 8. See also S.T., I, q. 75, art. 2: Quod (intellectus) potest cognoscere aliqua, oportet ut nihil eorum habeat in sua natura: quia illud quod inesset ei naturaliter, impedieret cognitionem aliorum. Sicut videmus, quod lingua infirmi, quae infecta est cholerico et amaro humore, non potest percipere aliquid dulce, sed omnia videntur ei amara [For it (the intellect) to be able to know something, it must have nothing of what it knows in its nature. Anything naturally present to it would block its knowledge of other things. As we see, the tongue of a sick person, covered with bitter saliva of cholic, cannot taste anything sweet. Everything is bitter for it].'

(42) Tales autem facit eas (intellectus agens species intelligibiles), qualis est ipse: nam omne agens agit sibi simile (C. Gentes., II, q. 76).

(43) Habet enim substantia animae humanae immaterialitatem; et, sicut ex dictis patet, ex hoc habet naturam intellectualem, quia omnis substantia immaterialis (that is, devoid of restrictive and particular form) est huiusmodi ['The substance of the human soul possesses its own immateriality and therefore an intellectual nature, as we have made clear. Every immaterial substance' (that is, devoid of restrictive and particular form) 'is of this kind'] (C. Gent., II, q. 7).

(44) Intellectus respicit suum objectum secundum communem rationem entis, eo quo intellectus possibilis est, quo est omnia fieri [The intellect, as the possible intellect by which all things come to be, regards its object according to the common notion of being] (S.T., I, q. 79, a. 7).

(45) He says 'relative to itself', because the intellect never attains to the knowledge of infinite individuals - individuals themselves never exist in an infinite number. Moreover, the intellect, although not limited per se, is limited by sense, which presents the intellect with the signs of entia the intellect then comes to know, as I have indicated in my Saggio sui confini dell'umana ragione (Teodicea, 150 ss.). This truth, that sense presents the intellect with the real terms of its activity, also forms part of St. Thomas' teaching. He notes that the universality of form and of the intellect, which consists in a lack of particular forms, is insufficient to allow us to know real things. Ex hoc nondum (that is, because the form of the intellect is universal or immaterial) (intellectus) habet quod assimiletur huic vel illi rei determinatae, quod requiritur ad hoc quod anima nostra hanc vel illam rem determinate cognoscat. - Remanet rerum cognoscibilium a nobis, quae sunt naturae rerum sensibilium: et has quidem determinatas naturas rerum sensibilium PRAESENTANT nobis phantasmata, etc. ['Hence' (that is, because the form of the intellect is universal or immaterial), '(the intellect) is still void of what assimilates it to one determinate thing or another. But this is needed if our soul is to know in a determinate way one thing or another... The intellective soul, therefore, remains in potency to determinate likenesses of things we can know, that is, to the natures of sensible things. It is the phantasms which PRESENT us with the determinate natures of sensible things, etc.'] (C. Gentes, II, q. 77).

(46) S.T., I, q. 86, art. 2.

(47) Itin. mentis in Deum.

(48) This explains St. Thomas' affirmation: Si attendantur rationes universales sensibilium, omnes scientiae sunt de necessariis, si autem attendantur ipsae res, sic quaedam scientia est de necessariis, quaedam vero de contingentibus [If we consider the universal notions of sensible things, all knowledge is about what is necessary; but if we consider the things themselves, some knowledge is about what is necessary, some about what is contingent] (S.T., I, q. 86, art. 3). This shows that for St. Thomas the necessity of our cognitions comes from their universality. However, this necessity is not total, but relative only to the formal part of our cognitions. He explains this at greater length as follows: Necessitas consequitur rationem formae, quia ea, quae consequuntur ad formam, ex necessitate insunt. - Ratio autem universalis accipitur secundum abstractionem formae a materia particulari. Dictum est autem supra, quod per se et directe intellectus est universalium. - Sic igitur contingentia prout sunt contingentia, cognoscuntur directe quidem a sensu, indirecte autem ab intellectu [Necessity results from the notion which governs the form, because things which follow as a result of the form are necessarily contained therein... A universal notion arises when a form is abstracted from some particular matter. But, as we said above, understanding is per se and directly about universals... Contingent things as such are known directly therefore by feeling, but indirectly by the intellect] (ibid.).

(49) Aristotle ridicules the method used by Plato in establishing his theory of ideas. It seemed to Aristotle that Plato, instead of starting from obvious facts and from what we know in order to explain what we do not know, began from what we do not know to explain what we do know. St. Thomas repeats the admonition, against which Plato would have had no difficulty in defending himself: 'It is ridiculous to bring in other entia as middle terms in order to know things which are evident, etc.' (S.T., I, q. 84, art. 1). But St. Thomas' words could be applied more reasonably against Kant who hypothetically introduces unknown forms which are not only incapable of explaining the obvious fact of knowledge, but are contrary to it. Kant describes them as characteristically subjective and restrictive, although knowledge is characterised essentially by its objectivity and absoluteness.

(50) See the moving passage from the Itinerarium quoted in the footnote to 1087 [App., no. 3] where both senses and spirit are excluded as sources of formal knowledge.

(51) In his De Vera Religione St. Augustine establishes this important proposition: the specific difference between the senses and intellect is the power of judgment possessed by the intellect, but not by the senses: Iudicare de corporibus, non sentientis tantum vitae, sed etiam ratiocinantis est [Judgment about bodies requires a being that reasons as well as feels] (29). From this principle he deduces that a judgment is hidden in all intellective knowledge, and discovers along with this truth that not all those who judge, judge equally well. Good judgment depends upon the art of judgment which he then undertakes to examine: Sed quia clarum est eam (naturam iudicantem) esse mutabilem, quando nunc perita nunc imperita invenitur; tanto autem melius judicat quanto est peritior; et tanto est peritior quanto alicuius artis - particeps est; ipsius artis natura quaerenda est [It is clear that judging is carried out by a changeable nature which sometimes possesses and sometimes lacks skill in judgment. The greater the skill, the better the judgment. The level of skill, however, depends on the level of the art of judgment... in the one who judges. What is the nature of this art, therefore?] (30). Having analysed the art of judgment, he discovers that it depends upon a rule superior to human beings, that is, on truth, which is essentially united with all intellects. Having thus purified and separated from the rest of knowledge the formal element (this rule, this first form, this truth) by which we judge, St. Augustine demonstrates its superiority to human beings. As independent of them, it is not subjective, but essentially objective and divine.

(52) Shortly after Locke, the problem arose: 'How does the soul unite several sensations in a single subject? (vol. 1, 66)'. We explained this fact by means of 1. the identity of space relative to the senses (vol. 2, 941 ss.) and 2. the unity of being relative to the spirit (vol. 2, 961 ss). Relative to the spirit, however, appropriate simplicity and unity are essential. This seems to have been recognised by all modern philosophers who also seem to accept without doubt that unity of perception does not spring from the external senses, but from the internal nature of our spirit. C. Vittore Bonstetten has this to say about the perception of a tree in his paper, Saggio analitico sul fenomeno della sensazione in the Biblioth. universelle etc., rédigée... Genève (March 1830): 'The action of the interior sense when modified by the organisation produces the feeling which then gives rise to the idea of the tree. It is the feeling which, on the canvas prepared by the external organ, chooses the rays designating the tree, and gives to the image of the tree that totally spiritual unity, entirely immaterial, which forms a single whole of the tree. By means of speech we can then move the whole tree around mentally, and from it form thoughts, relationships, abstractions and principles - in a word, everything that the spirit can produce through sensation.'

(53) Sed cum ipsa mens nostra sit commutabilis, illam (veritatem) sic incommutabiliter relucentem non potest videre, nisi per aliquam aliam lucem omnino incommutabiliter radiantem, quam impossibile est esse creaturam mutabilem (Itin. ment. etc, 3).

(54) Si potentia angeli per seipsam cognosceret omnia, - esset similitudo et actus omnium. Unde oportet quod superaddantur potentiae intellectivae ipsius aliquae species intelligibiles, quae sint similitudines rerum intellectarum (S.T., I-II, q. 51, art. 1, ad 2).

(55) Quaelibet creatura habet esse finitum ac determinatum. Unde essentia superioris creaturae etsi habet quamdam similitudinem inferioris creaturae, prout comunicant in aliquo genere, non tamen complete habet similitudinem illius: quia determinatur ad aliquam speciem, praeter quam est species inferioris creaturae (hence, the essence of a creature cannot furnish knowledge of things). Sed essentia Dei est perfecta similitudo omnium, quantum ad omnia quae in rebus inveniuntur, sicut universale principium omnium (so that God alone can understand all things through his essence) ['Any creature whatsoever has only finite, determinate being. The essence of a higher creature, therefore, has some kind of likeness to that of a lower creature because they communicate in some genus, but not a complete likeness. The higher creature is determined to some species beyond that of the lower creature' (hence, the essence of a creature cannot furnish knowledge of things). 'But God's essence, as the universal principle of all things, is the perfect likeness of all elements found in things' (so that God alone can understand all things through his essence)] (S.T., I, q. 84, art. 2).

(56) Haec autem lex omnium artium cum sit omnino incommutabilis, mens vero humana, cui talem legem videre concessum est, mutabilitatem pati possit erroris, satis apparet supra mentem nostram esse legem, quae veritas dicitur. - Itaque cum se anima sentiat, nec corporum speciem motumque iudicare secundum seipsam, simul oportet agnoscat... praestare sibi eam naturam, secundum quam iudicat, et de qua iudicare nullo modo potest. - Ut enim nos et omnes animae rationales, secundum veritatem de inferioribus recte iudicamus, sic de nobis, quando eidem cohaeremus, sola ipsa veritas iudicat (De V. Relig., cc. 30, 31).

(57) Conf., bk. 12, c. 25.

(58) St. Augustine, In Ps.: Noli putare te ipsam esse lucem [Do not think that you are your own light]. -Dic quia tu tibi lumen non es [Say that you are not light to yourself (St. Aug., Serm. 8, De verbis Domini).