In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 27.2 (2003) 475-477 [Access article in PDF] A Small Treatise on the Great Virtues: The Uses of Philosophy in Everyday Life, by André Comte-Sponville, trans. Catherine Temerson; x & 352 pp. New York: Metropolitan Books, 2001. Of two minds, I mirror the two sorts of audience this book's twenty-four translations have sought: "students" and "readers" (p. 5), those for whom the scholarly content and apparatus (...) may be of interest and those hopefully many more who wish to become better, to become virtuous. Although "students" will not find sustained engagement with this book rewarding, its bright virtues will raise "readerly" smiles among them.Reasons for Small's great popularity since its 1995 PUF release derive not from essaying eighteen virtues in its eighteen chapters. Its allure is its dance with love's piquant absences, a dance with virtues as "feeble approximations of love" (p. 98). Indeed, chapter 1 teaches that politeness "is not a virtue but a simulacrum that imitates virtue (in adults) and paves the way for it (in children)" (p. 13). And since love, "the alpha and omega of all virtue" (p. 226), is not itself clearly a virtue, then perhaps at most fifteen virtues are treated. For as all readers will pleasurably discover, purity (chapter 14) is really refractions of love's qualities.The virtues are multiply interconnected, not unified as Socrates thought. This idea finds graceful expression, among other places, at the conclusion of "Generosity" (chapter 7). "Combined with courage, it turns out to be heroism. Joined by justice, it becomes equity. Coupled with compassion, it becomes benevolence. In league with mercy, it becomes leniency" (p. 102). And chap-ter 9's mercy? "Because hatred is a sadness, mercy (like the process of mourning, which it resembles and might even require, since to forgive is to bid farewell to our hatred) is on the side of joy. When it is not yet joyous, it is forgiveness; when it already is, it is love" (p. 131). Simone Weil's meditations on God's absence, or "withdrawal," occasion insights into authentic parental love. [End Page 475] God does not fill the world since "were he to do so, there would be only God and no world"; similarly, "more often than one might think, parents withdraw, step back, cede their space to their children, and refrain from exercising all the power at their disposal. Why? Because they love them" (p. 274).Unfortunately, love's flowers, potted in this garden of Adonis (Phaedrus 276b), must contend with "student" scrutiny from without and a suffocating lack of concision from within. This "student's" efforts failed to disentangle ambivalences about the loving ego in the long, concluding love chapter. Organized into three sections—eros, philia, agape—the first has no patience for subtleties of the Symposium's eros. "Have I begged the question?... So be it," since Plato confuses "love—in all its forms—with [ego's] want" (p. 243). Philia "is a different way of [ego's] possessing, of enjoying" (p. 277). Finally, agape, universal and disinterested love, is simply one's genuine conatus, one's true power of existing (pp. 270f). So ego loves three ways—desire, possession, power—but each is about ego. Eros "usually" (p. 262) intermixes with philia: "we are forever hesitating, oscillating, fluctuating between the two affects [desire and joy] and the two truths (Plato's and Spinoza's), between want and capacity, hope and gratitude, passion and action, religion and wisdom, between the love that desires only what it does not have and wants to possess (ero \ s), and the love [philia] that, since it desires only what is, has everything it desires and finds pleasure and joy in it" (p. 253). Nevertheless, philia without excess Platonic eros is about and for ego, not alter. For the friend per se gives ego joy: ego's joy is the definiens of philia (pp. 249ff). Disconcertingly, there are a few contrary formulations of philia as loving "the other for the other's benefit" (p. 262). If "metaphysics is the... (shrink)

The paper deals with one of the basic concepts of the classical ethical conception of French moral philosopher Vladimir Jankélévitch . Although tolerance is one of the so called “little virtues”, it is not less important; it has its own philosophy based on two presuppositions: 1) we have to abandon the knowledge of the thing in itself; 2) we have to conceive of every person as a purpose in itself, “an imperium within an imperium”. The symbiosis of body and mind, (...) this “living paradox”, can serve as a model of how to resolve an irresolvable problem of tolerance. In the same way the “paradox” of a community of people sharing common faith and forced by it to act together could be brought to existence . And if convivial moments and moments of enthusiasms are affiliated, maybe one day they will start to love one another. (shrink)

In his Advertisement to the incomplete first edition of the Treatise, Hume justifies his decision to publish the first two Books separately on the grounds that “the subjects of the understanding and passions make a compleat chain of reasoning by themselves”.1 The Advertisement to Book 3 qualifies its predecessor slightly, stating that Book 3 is “in some measure independent of the other two and requires not that the reader shou’d enter into all the abstract reasonings contain’d in them”. Precisely (...) which abstract lines of reasoning were complete by the end of Book 2, Hume does not say. As many commentators read T 1.4.6, personal identity seems a good candidate.... (shrink)

Hume’s discussion of pride and sympathy in the _Treatise_ shows direct engagement with Malebranche’s discussion of ‘imitation’ in the _Search_. For Malebranche, imitation—both of passions and belief—and our tendency to judge ourselves by comparison, generate the passion of pride or grandeur, which plays a useful social role. However, as both cause and effect of the admiration of others, grandeur is ungrounded and thus imaginary. Hume disagrees. He invokes the principle of sympathy to explain how the evaluations of others can support (...) pride by indicating, without constituting, grounds for pride. Hume’s argument depends on his underappreciated claim that sympathy can communicate the evaluative opinions as well as the passions of others. Working with the Malebranchean inventory of principles—sympathy and comparison—Hume refines their characterization, thereby redeeming the human tendency to feel pride and humility by characterizing it as corrigible and subject to social regulation. (shrink)

This book is a philosophico-theological treatise on love, coming from the stream of thought formed by the confluence of scholastic thought and modern phenomenological and personalist philosophy. The author, Fr Cowburn, is an Australian, whose thought has been moulded mainly by his studies at Innsbruck under Rahner and Coreth. His work owes nothing to linguistic philosophy.

This book is a philosophico-theological treatise on love, coming from the stream of thought formed by the confluence of scholastic thought and modern phenomenological and personalist philosophy. The author, Fr Cowburn, is an Australian, whose thought has been moulded mainly by his studies at Innsbruck under Rahner and Coreth. His work owes nothing to linguistic philosophy.

Abstract:In this paper I argue that Hume’s decision to include an account of curiosity within his theory of the passions is what gives Book 2 of the Treatise its distinctive shape, in which an account of what Hume calls “indirect” passions precedes an account of the nature of the will, which is itself followed by an account of the “direct” passions, then curiosity. On my reading, Hume concludes his theory of the passions with an account of curiosity because this (...) is where it ought to go, given how Hume understands the love of truth to arise in human nature. Not only this, but I contend that Hume’s need to account for the nature of curiosity within his theory of the passions can explain his decision to open Book 2 with a discussion of the indirect passions, rather than the direct passions. (shrink)

Patrick Frierson - Learning to Love: From Egoism to Generosity in Descartes - Journal of the History of Philosophy 40:3 Journal of the History of Philosophy 40.3 313-338 Learning to Love: From Egoism to Generosity in Descartes Patrick R. Frierson The whole of philosophy is like a tree. The roots are metaphysics, the trunk is physics, and the branches emerging from the trunk are all the other sciences, which may be reduced to three principal ones, namely medicine, mechanics, (...) and morals. Descartes is well known for his metaphysics and physics, the roots and trunk of his philosophical project. But Descartes's morals are generally neglected, partly because they are so difficult to find. He does not dedicate a major published work to morality. His most direct comments on it are in letters to Princess Elizabeth and Pierre Chanut. The published work that most touches on moral issues is The Passions of the Soul, which is primarily a treatise on the relationship between mind and body. As a result of this lack of primary sources , there have been only a few significant studies of Descartes's moral philosophy in French, and only two major works devoted to it in English. This neglect of Descartes's ethics is unfortunate, not least since ethical concerns sometimes influence his work in other areas. This.. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:M. C. Dillon LOVE IN WOMEN IN LOVE: A PHENOMENOLOGICAL ANALYSIS Despite his sexism, his turgid prose, and his antiquated social conscience, Lawrence is on every bookshelf. This is not merely because of the vicarious erotic entertainment to be found in the saga of John Thomas and Lady Jane, but because Lawrence remains a major guru of romance. We take him seriously, look to him for guidance, (...) measure ourselves against Ursula and Birkin. If he is on our shelves—and his thoughts not far from our pillows—then his ideas starid in need of scrutiny. Women in Love is as much a treatise as a novel: we witness more talking about than making of love. The agon of ideas engulfs the agon of flesh. Hence, the book suits the present purpose. It cannot be taken as Lawrence's definitive statement on love—later works, notably Lady Chatterly's Lover, move in different directions—but it is his most philosophical treatment and, I think, most clearly expresses his conceptual framework, the parameters which define and limit his thinking. What he says about love in Women in Love may therefore illumine his depictions of the behavior of lovers in other works. Lawrence is a romantic. In the popular sense of the word he is one who makes of romance or erotic adventure a dominant life value. Lawrence is also a romantic in another sense insofar as he takes the transcendence or unattainability of the other as essential to the project of loving. These two senses are conceptually compatible but existentially in conflict. That is, if one's major undertaking in life is to seek erotic satisfaction, and if one desires only so long as the object is beyond reach, then one has established the groundwork for continual frustration. This, I will try to show, is what Lawrence has done. I Many writers have tried to bring the ideas implicitly present in and constitutive of romantic love to the level of explicit reflective awareness. 190 M.C.Dillon191 The most successful treatment I know is given by a writer who did not know—or at least did not say—that he was writing about romantic love. Sartre purports to reveal the inner structures of love itself—the unqualified, unrestricted essence of love. As I have tried to show elsewhere,1 he fails at this. But he succeeds admirably in unveiling the inner contradictions of romantic love. Our project here is to draw upon Sartre's insights: first, to develop a conception of romantic love, and then to discern the model of Eros which informs Women in Love. The key idea in romantic love is transcendence. Something is transcendent when it is beyond me, when I cannot adequately prehend it conceptually or master it with my will. The role of transcendence in romantic love is demonstrated clearly in Denis de Rougemont's book on Love in the Western World.2 There he shows that Tristan's passion for Iseult is directly proportional to her distance from him: he is increasingly attracted as she becomes further removed. On the other hand, when through various deeds of gallantry and subterfuge, he succeeds in winning her to his side, he loses interest and must create circumstances which put her again beyond his reach. The culmination of romantic love, according to de Rougemont, is death—it sets the other absolutely beyond reach. It also arrests and preserves at their apices the youth and beauty of the lovers and the intensity of the erotic relationship. It is, I believe, this complex of ideas that led Kierkegaard to this cynical reflection on the nature of romantic love: "When two beings fall in love with one another and begin to suspect that they were made for each other, it is time to have the courage to break it off; for by going on they have everything to lose and nothing to gain."3 The same idea, qualified by increased optimism, underlies Stendhal's notion of crystallization in his book On Love.* Love is predicated on the attribution of perfection to the beloved. Just as a plain bough emerges from the salt-saturated waters of the Salzburg mines encrusted with beautiful crystals... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Living Zen, Loving GodRobert P. KennedyLiving Zen, Loving God. By Ruben L. F. Habito. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2004. 136 + xxvi pp.In his treatise On Christian Doctrine, Augustine states that non-Christian "seekers of wisdom" may have "said things which are indeed true and are well accommodated to our faith," and even goes on to assert that "some truths concerning the one God are discovered among them." Augustine (...) urges that taking the "gold and silver" of genuine moral and spiritual wisdom from non-Christian sources "should not be feared... but rather [that these treasures ought to be] taken... and converted to our use" (II, xl, 60). As the title of his book implies, Habito believes that "living Zen," and particularly practicing the discipline of zazen, or contemplative sitting, is, for Christians at least, equivalent to the practice of loving God. He addresses himself to Christians—specifically, Roman Catholics—who are seeking to deepen their spirituality, and the book's over-arching purpose is to show that the practice of Zen meditation is both helpful in this quest and conformable with Christian faith. At various points throughout his book, Habito emphasizes that following the path of Zen, if done properly, will in fact strengthen Christians' commitment to their beliefs and, especially, the Gospel's call of loving one's neighbor.Living Zen, Loving God is divided into ten short chapters. In the first chapter, Habito gives a personal account of his experience with Zen. This opening allows him to demonstrate his authority to speak about Zen Buddhism, to introduce the fundamental experience that he is inviting his readers to share, and to illustrate how, in his own case, the practice of zazen shed new light on his Christian faith. As a former Jesuit priest and practicing Catholic, Habito may dispense with any discussion of his qualifications to speak as a Christian. His claim to speak for the Zen experience is less obvious, and so he relates the validation of his kensho (initial enlightenment) by two Japanese Buddhist masters. This, along with the testimonials in the forewords by John Keenan and Fr. Hugo Enomiya Lassalle, SJ, is an assurance that his presentation of Zen is reliable, despite the cultural gulf between his background and that of his Zen teachers.What Habito discovered in his initial enlightenment was nothing less than a transformative encounter with reality, an awareness that is irreducible to conceptual knowledge. Kensho is the experience of nothingness that cannot be expressed but only patiently awaited in silence (p. 5). This experience carried with it a new awareness of the Christian doctrine of creation and a renewed commitment to social involvement on behalf of those who suffer.The nature of Zen is explored more fully in the second chapter, "Emptiness and Fullness." The experience of nothingness involves a self-emptying, a "peeling off " of layers of the false self to find the "depths" in oneself (pp. 13–14). This work of self-realization proceeds by the use of a koan, an enigmatic statement [End Page 193] or story that brings the disciple to an intellectual impasse. The goal of zazen may be indicated inchoately by understanding that the purpose of the koan is precisely to stop thinking and thus to experience oneself as one is and not according to the labels or concepts one habitually uses. Self-realization, the kensho experience, then opens the capacity to relate to others and the world directly, without the falsification of translating experience into thought: "One who is fully emptied in Zen finds himself or herself in everything, literally, and is able to identify fully with everything, to be all things, and thus to act in total freedom, according to what the particular situation demands. Such a one is no longer separated by the illusory barrier between himself and the 'other.' One sees one's True Self in the 'other,' and the 'other' in one's True Self" (p. 22).The next three chapters develop the themes in this summary through readings of classic Buddhist texts. In chapter 3, on the Heart Sutra, Habito stresses that Buddhist meditation, when practiced genuinely, is not solipsistic, an escape into oneself from concern for... (shrink)

Bhakti has been an all-pervasive concept in the philosophical and religious traditions of India. The origin of bhakti can be traced in the Vedas wherein the root-word bhaj and various synonyms appear and in that point in time no distinction was made between secular and religious love. Narada Bhakti Sutra is a premier treatise on the nature of bhakti that emphasizes the connection between bhakti and prema and treats the age-old enigma about the nature of love in (...) an original fashion. NBS has usually been interpreted in a theistic manner, often with theistic interpolations into the text. This paper interprets NBS with a philosophical approach to discover its unique insights on the perennial philosophical issue, namely, 'what is love?' and shows that NBS harks back to the age of the Vedas in which secular love and religious love were inter-twined. (shrink)

Nicolas Malebranche in the Treatise on the Love of God argues against the Quietists, who thought that the pure love of God required the extinction of self-interest, understood to include a stance of disinterestedness with regard to happiness, even to eternal happiness. Ipresent Malebranche’s essay as structured by contrasts the resolution of which Malebranche maintains leads to union with God, whichis love and happiness. By referring to several thinkers, past and present, I suggest alternative ways of (...) thinking about God, love of God, and self-interest. I conclude that although Malebranche is in a long line of thinkers who hold that the object of the will is the good, and who equate this good with God, and God with happiness, and although he offers correctives to a too easy-going spirituality, certain theses that he defends are not in line with classical views of God and His attributes. (shrink)

A religious and philosophical treatise called Works of love was written by Kierkegaard in 1847 under Kierkegaard’s name. It’s a Christian book and not pseudonomical writing like his early writings. R. Gregor Smith notes that Kierkegaard’s study of love reaches to the heart of Christian thought. Indeed, it discusses the matter of Love in his different senses: self-love, love for the neighbour and love for God. So, it focuses on the relation between the (...) self and the others. In Works of Love, he sets up a contrast between the natural loves like erotic love (Elskov) and friendship (Venskab) on one hand, and the love for God and neighbour on the other hand. There is an evident tension between the different attitudes that Kierkegaard expresses in that writing with regard to preferential love. That why, perhaps, a great critics Løgstrup judges Works of Love to be “a brilliantly thought out system of safeguards against being forced into a close relationship with other people1”. In this article, I offer a brief account of some Kierkegaard’s key concerns about love: its’s preferential love and its being a form of self-love. I will discuss the means of preferential love which presents romantic love and friendship. This is, according to Kierkegaard, a real form of selfishness. Christian love is expressed in the Divine Commandment: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself” as Matthew said (22:39), so Kierkegaard shows that “Christian love teaches us to love all people, unconditionally all” (1995, 49). That words “shall” is the “very mark of Christian love” because that love is the duty to love neighbour, any neighbour as one loves oneself. Why does Kierkegaard separate two kinds of love? Is it so different? Preferential love is excluded from the category of neighbourly love because it is understood by the poet. That is to say that preferential love is only showing by the poet way. Therefore, erotic love and friendship aren’t dismissed altogether but only as long as they are understood in the pagan way, or more clearly as a poet manner. (shrink)

In order to grasp the distinctive character of the object imitated in tragedies, Aristotle's Poetics introduces a new notion of action, which does not refer to individual ethical deeds as in the Ethics. Rather, it signifies a whole with a beginning, a middle, and an end, whose constitutive components are events. This paper argues that the notion of agents undergoes a parallel transformation in the treatise on poetry. It no longer refers exclusively to the authors of ethical deeds, but (...) to the characters who enact the entire dramatic action. Their nature can be understood in terms of a potential story whose logos is a muthos. On this ground, the suggestion is made that the Poetics provides the elements of a narrative conception of human identity. (shrink)

In the summer of 1886, shortly before his fifty-eighth birthday, Leo Tolstoy was seriously injured while working in the fields of his estate. Bedridden for over two months, Tolstoy began writing a meditation on death and dying that soon developed into a philosophical treatise on life, death, love, and the overcoming of pessimism. Although begun as an account of how one man encounters and laments his death and makes this death his own, the final work, On Life, describes (...) the optimal life in which we can all be happy despite our mortality. After its completion, On Life was suppressed by the tsars, attacked by the hierarchs of the Russian Orthodox Church, and then censored by the Stalinist regime. This critical edition is the first accurate translation of this unsung classic of Russian thought into English, based on a study of manuscript pages of Tolstoy's drafts, and the first scholarly edition of this work in any language. It includes a detailed introduction and annotations, as well as historical material, such as early drafts, documents related to the presentation of an early version at the Moscow Psychological Society, and responses to the work by philosophers, religious leaders, journalists, and ordinary readers of Tolstoy's day. (shrink)

Hume on Infinite Divisibility and Sensible Extensionless Indivisibles DALE JACQUETTE 'Twere certainly to be wish'd, that some expedient were fallen upon to reconcile philosophy and common sense, which with regard to the question of infinite divisibility have wag'd most cruel wars with each other. David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature 1. THE DIVISIBILITY ARGUMENTS David Hume's refutation of the infinite divisibility of space and time, and his doctrine of the sensible extensionless indivisibles that constitute extension, are perhaps the (...) least loved, and until recently, least examined aspects of his early philosophy. The fact that Hume reduced his lengthy discussion of the prob- lem from the Treatise to just two pages of the first Enquiry, together with his disavowal of the first work in the Enquiry's "Advertisement," have reinforced the tendency to ignore his arguments. ~ Opinions on the merits of Hume's analysis of space are widely divided. To give a sense of the disparity, Donald L. M. Baxter, in "Hume on Infinite Divisibility," maintains: "Far from begging the question, Hume has available a respectable argument against the infinite divisibility of finite spatial intervals."' C. D. Broad, on the contrary, in his Dawes Hicks Lecture on Philosophy to the British Academy, "Hume's Doctrine of Space," concludes: "I think, then, that Hume's whole account of spatial divisibility can David Hume, Essays and Treatises on... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:I. The Concept of Beatific EnjoymentThe locus classicus for the medieval scholastic discussion of beatific enjoyment is the first distinction of Book I of Peter Lombard's Sentences. Lombard extracts three distinct formulations of the term "enjoyment" from Augustine's writings. The first formulation is borrowed from the first book of Augustine's treatise On Christian Learning . The formulation states that "to enjoy is to inhere with love in (...) something for its own sake." The other two formulations are taken from Book X of Augustine's work On the Trinity . The first reads as follows: "we enjoy the things that we know, when the will rests, by delighting in them for their own sake." The second says that "to enjoy is to use with gladness , not merely through hope, but already in reality." These truncated statements served as technical definitions of the concept of enjoyment in scholastic Sentences commentaries. It was thought that the definitions call attention to the various psychological factors required for enjoyment to occur. For instance, the theologian Alexander of Hales explains that the definitions reveal distinct aspects of enjoyment with respect to the subject experiencing it and with respect to the object motivating the enjoyment. The expression "to inhere with love" refers to the soul on the part of the subject and to God on the part of the object. The saying "to use with gladness" relates to the power of the soul on the side of the subject and to created beatitude on the side of the object. Finally, the phrase "we enjoy the things that we know" corresponds to the faculty of the will as well as to the uncreated divine persons. Alexander would thus say that an adequate treatment of Augustine's concept of enjoyment must take into account the subject involved in the activity of enjoyment – e.g., the human soul, the faculty of the will, the faculty of cognition, etc. – and the object or objects of an act of enjoyment – created beatitude, the persons of the Trinity, or simply God.A slightly different reading of Augustine's definitions of enjoyment is found in Thomas Aquinas's Sentences commentary. In his literal exposition of the first distinction of Lombard's Sentences, Thomas notes that a perfect definition of a thing must disclose all of its proper causes. He then offers an explanation of the way in which Augustine's three definitions aim to clarify the concept of enjoyment. According to Thomas, the statement "to inhere in something with love for its own sake" portrays the act of enjoyment in relation to the object as a thing worthy for its own sake and the habit of love causing the enjoyment. The second formulation – "we enjoy the things that we know, etc." – links the act of enjoyment with the faculty of cognition required for the activation of the will. The third formulation – "to enjoy is to use with gladness" – refers primarily to the property of delight , which accompanies the obtainment of the desired object and perfects the act of enjoyment. Thomas, thus, identifies three factors contributing to the occurrence of an act of enjoyment – habit, cognition, and delight . In the first article of the first question of his commentary on Book I of the Sentences, Thomas states that enjoyment is the ultimate happiness of a human being. Enjoyment requires the clear intellectual vision of God, it involves an union as well as a sort of a mutual penetration through love between the one who sees and the thing that is seen, and it culminates in supreme delight . Thomas also says that enjoyment is an act of the will manifesting the habit of charity. In his Summa theologiae Ia IIae, Thomas defines enjoyment as an act of the appetitive faculty , and.. (shrink)

In Sufism, the subject of love or divine love is considered as one of the most valuable concepts and the most important foundations on which the Sufis build their way of knowing Allah. For this reason, it has aroused the interest of many people, especially mystical and literary circles, from different religions, languages, races and cultures since ancient times. If there were no conversation or love, many of the literary texts would not exist today. This phenomenon, which (...) has been handled from different perspectives from past to present, has been subjected to different evaluations, sometimes in a literary text, and sometimes by writing separate treatises and books about it. One of the personalities who dealt with this subject in detail is Ibn Debbâg al-Qayravani, one of the Sufis of the 7th century Hijri. Ibn Debbâğ, like his predecessors Fârâbî, Tevhîdî and Ghazali, is one of the Sufis who consider love together with the theory of beauty and perfection. But what makes it different is that besides the theory of beauty and perfection, the states of lovers, the ways to reach genuine love, the parts of love, the truth of perfection and beauty, spiritual love, the pleasures of fellow devotees... In addition, his recording of mystical states and maqams with shar'i measures, his systematic handling of zahir-bâtın, latîf-kesîf, lofty-suflî concepts and associating them with love form a collection of his ideas. In fact, Ibn Debbâg sheds light on the understanding of Sufism of the period in which he lived, with the way he handled and handled the subject. While all these reveal the importance of our study, they are also the issues that determine its method. On the other hand, the absence of any academic study related to Ibn Debbâg and his understanding of love in our country is one of the main reasons why we prefer this subject. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Scepticism About Persons in Book II of Hume’s TreatiseDonald C. AinslieBook ii of Hume’s Treatise—especially its first two Parts on the “indirect passions” of pride, humility, love, and hatred—has mystified many of its interpreters.1 Hume clearly thinks these passions are important: Not only does he devote more space to them than to his treatment of causation, but in the “Abstract” to the Treatise, he tells us (...) that Book II “contains opinions that are altogether as new and extraordinary” (T 659) as those found in Book I. And, he says, these opinions constitute “the foundation” (T 646) for his treatment of morals and politics in Book III.2 The mystery arises, however, because in the actual text of [End Page 469] Book II Hume never spells out what makes his opinions on the passions “new and extraordinary,” nor why they are foundational for his moral theory.Thus some of his interpreters, notably Norman Kemp Smith, conclude that Hume was simply mistaken in his assessment of his treatment of the passions. While his accounts of the will and of motivation (in the early Sections of Part iii of Book II) are significant, Kemp Smith takes the extended analysis of the indirect passions to spring merely from his misplaced enthusiasm for associationist psychology. As such, the philosophical lessons to be learned from the first two Parts of Book II are slim.3 Páll Árdal, in contrast, tries to construct for Hume what he seems to have omitted—a philosophical rationale for his obvious interest in the indirect passions. Árdal starts by drawing attention to the role these passions play in Hume’s moral philosophy, in particular, his repeatedly connecting the indirect passions to the moral sentiments of approval and disapproval. Árdal concludes that Hume means to equate the moral sentiments with particular kinds of indirect passions. The first two Parts of Book II are of interest, on Ardal’s reading, because it is there that he shows us how moral sentimentalism can be founded on something more fully naturalistic than Hutcheson’s somewhat mysterious “moral sense.”4I argue against Árdal’s interpretation in §2. But this reopens the problem of accounting for Hume’s interest in the indirect passions. I offer my view in §§3–5 where, like Árdal, I provide a reconstruction of Hume’s discussion of these passions in order to show how it has an underlying philosophical motivation. My claim is that Hume relies on the indirect passions to explain how we form beliefs about persons as bearers of features that make them into who [End Page 470] they are. It is by feeling an indirect passion towards someone that we think of her as more than accidentally related to some quality, such as her country, her riches, her family, or even her character traits. In support of my interpretation I point to the many parallels Hume draws between the indirect passions and the associative mechanism he offers to explain our forming causal beliefs (I.iii). And I suggest that, just as Hume’s associative explanation of causal beliefs is necessitated by his scepticism about intrinsic “necessary connexions,” so also his associative mechanism for our beliefs about persons—the indirect passions—is necessitated by a certain kind of scepticism about persons. This is not the scepticism about persons that we find in “Of personal identity” (I.iv.6), where Hume argues against the view that our perceptions inhere in a simple soul; it is rather a scepticism about there being intrinsic features of persons that define them as who they are.But, before I explain in more detail what my claim amounts to, it will help to have available a brief description of the mechanism that Hume’s takes to explain the indirect passions.1. THE MECHANISM FOR THE INDIRECT PASSIONSA passion, for Hume, is a simple impression felt in response to various circumstances. Because of their simplicity, we cannot define passions by putting their characteristic feeling into words; instead, Hume thinks, we can only delineate “such circumstances, as attend them” (T 277). Passions are indirect if those circumstances include as an outcome the focusing of attention onto a person... (shrink)

Studies the context of Giordano Bruni's Eroici furori in the light of two traditional literary forms; prose commentaries on verses, and Platonic love treatises.

Douglas Wadle celebrates the juxtaposition of art and science while examining music's influence on humanity's understanding of our place in the universe. Tracing the millennia-old love affair between music and science, Wadle chronicles the surprising ubiquity of musical training among history's greatest thinkers. He shines a spotlight on the intertwining stories of pattern and form and how they complement one another in our search for creativity and insight. Einstein's Violin relies on extensive research to tell the story of how (...) music impacts the pattern recognition software in our brains, facilitating more creative problem solving. Without digression into technical treatise, it focuses on the historical stories that best display music's beautiful interaction with mind and universe"--Back cover. (shrink)

Love has been present in several manifestations in that Islamic thought has been expressed. Avicena wrote a Treatise on Love that has been considered as a mystic writing. An attentive reading of this work shows that its content is not mystic neither gnostic, but it rather agrees with the Avicenna’s philosophical doctrines exposed on other of his most important works. The content of that Treatise is described on this paper.

Love has been present in several manifestations in that Islamic thought has been expressed. Avicena wrote a Treatise on Love that has been considered as a mystic writing. An attentive reading of this work shows that its content is not mystic neither gnostic, but it rather agrees with the Avicenna’s philosophical doctrines exposed on other of his most important works. The content of that Treatise is described on this paper.

Love has been present in several manifestations in that Islamic thought has been expressed. Avicena wrote a Treatise on Love that has been considered as a mystic writing. An attentive reading of this work shows that its content is not mystic neither gnostic, but it rather agrees with the Avicenna’s philosophical doctrines exposed on other of his most important works. The content of that Treatise is described on this paper.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Moral Sentiments and the Structure of the Treatise LOUIS E. LOEB ACCORDING TO NORMAN KEMP SMITH and Thomas Hearn, Hume classified moral sentiments as direct passions.' According to Pb.II A,rdal, Hume classified the basic moral sentiments of approval and disapproval of persons as indirect passions. if either of these interpretations is correct, there is an intimate connection between Books II and 111 of Hume's Treatise. This (...) is because the direct and indirect passions (together with the will) are the subject of Book 11 and moral sentiments are discussed in Book 111. So if moral sentiments are special cases of either direct or indirect passions, the treatment of passions in Book Ii is central to the understanding of Book 111. 1 contend, on the contrary, that Hume's moral sentiments are neither direct nor indirect passions. Consequently, the connection between Books 11 and 111 of the Treatise is much less intimate than A,rdal and Hearn have recently suggested.' i. Hume's Classification of the Impressions of Reflection In the four paragraphs of II, i, I Hume provides an exhaustive "Division of the Subject"--the "subject" being "all the perceptions of the mind. ''4 Nowhere else in the Treatise is a complete "division" to be found. As A,rdal points out, such introductory chapters "are likely to be written after the bulk of the book has been completed, or at least to be carefully revised in the light of the main arguments in the book. ''~ For these reasons, there is a strong presumption that the "division" in!I, i, 1should be taken as canonical. Hume's "division" is straightforward. In the first paragraph, perceptions are divided into ideas and impressions; in the first and second paragraphs, impressions are divided into those of sensation and those of reflection; in the third paragraph, impressions of reflection are divided into the calm and the violent; in the fourth (as I am indebted to Wdham Frankena, Ronald Glossop, and Peter Jones for their most helpful comments. ' Norman Kemp Smith, The Philosophy of David Hume (New York: St. Martm'~ Press, 1966), pp. 167-168; and Thomas K. Hearn, Jr., "Ardal on the Moral Sentiments in Hume's rreattse," Phtlosophy 48 (1973):290. z Passton and Value m Hume's "Treatise" (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1966), pp. I 1, 109-133. For a discussion heavily influenced by Ardal, see Stewart R. Sutherland, "Hume on Morality and the Emotions," Phllosophwal Quarterly 26 (1976) : 14-19 especially. ' See Ardal, pp. I-5, 109-133; and Hearn, pp. 288, 292. 9 A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888), p. 275; hereafter cited as T followed by page number. 9 Ardal, p. 94. 13951 396 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY indicated by the last sentence of the third), the violent impressions of reflection are divided into the direct and the indirect. The structure is of a genus-species sort, and none of the distinctions cut across each other: J calm i sense of beauty and deformity (T, 276), moral sentiments impressions of reflection = emotions (secondary impressions) violent = passions direct indirect desire, aversion, grief, joy, pride, humility, love, hope, fear (T, 277, 439) hatred (T, 276-277) This classification is based upon the only natural reading of paragraph three and the first sentence of paragraph four of II, i, I. I quote this material, adding my own emphasis and deleting Hume's: The reflective impressions may be divided into two kinds, viz. the calm and the violent. Of the first kind is the sense of beauty and deformity in action, composition, and external objects. Of the second are the passions of love and hatred, grief and joy, pride and humility. This division is far from being exact. The raptures of poetry and music frequently rise to the greatest height; while those other impressions, properly called passions, may decay into so soft an emotion, as to become, in a manner, imperceptible. But as in general the passions are more violent than the emotions arising from beauty and deformity, these impressions have been commonly distinguish'd from each other. The subject of the human mind being so copious and various, I shall here take... (shrink)

The following little paper has a rather large scope. No particular issue or problem has occasioned this text; rather, it presents a mini-treatise on love, marriage, and parenting. The attempted method is quasi-Hegelian: to allow one topic to engender a further topic, and this in turn to engender a third, etc., while avoiding at any stage anticipations of later topics. If reasoning in accordance with this dialectical method is successful, the result is a system of topics, but it (...) is contingent whether or not these topics can be employed as knowledge of the historical world. Indeed, some of the topics considered below cannot be employed descriptively under present historical conditions. Thus, those who would execute this dialectical project must renounce any claim that the system of topics has more than a contingent relation to knowledge, but it would be utter misology to denigrate this project merely because it requires this renunciation. (shrink)

The personality and the writings of Marsilio Ficino mark the turning point from the middleages to the Renaissance. In John Marenbon’s apt description, medieval philosophy is ‘the story of a complex tradition founded in Neoplatonism, but not simply as a continuation or development of Neoplatonism itself’. ‘Not simply’ because the Enneads, the first and finest flowering of that tradition, testify to Plotinus’ deep engagement, not only with the thought of Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics and the Middle Platonists, but also with (...) a variety of theologico-mystical writings of diverse middleeastern provenances, from Egypt to Persia. This complex tradition, Ficino transmitted to the West in the form of translations from Greek into Latin of the dialogues of Plato and the Enneads of Plotinus as well as of several commentaries on those texts by later thinkers. In addition to such exegetical works, Ficino wrote several philosophical treatises of his own. Finally, as an ordained priest, he was also well acquainted with the writings of the Church Fathers, all of which had contributed to his belief that religion should not be separated from philosophy. To the completion of this ambitious scholarly programme and the fulfilment of his commitment to the Church, he brought the resources of his powerfully syncretistic mind. Rather than merely combining various texts and traditions, he made them speak to each other and, in the process, evolved a system that was both sui generis and attuned to the new ways of thinking that were then emerging in quattrocento Florence. His in-depth understanding of all these texts, together with his ability to spot similarities, analogies and correspondences between them, enabled him to fuse into a coherent system various elements which a modern historian of philosophy would regard as dissimilar if not incompatible. His philosophical acumen enabled him, when he thought it appropriate, to improve on the views of those he regarded as his masters and to fill whatever gaps he found in their arguments. The present essay is an attempt to unravel the nature of Ficino’s syncretism, in which three levels of widening scope will be distinguished: authorial, trans-authorial and trans-doctrinal. To achieve a desirable level of both precision and concision, a short text will then be analysed, namely Speech Five of his most widely read treatise, a Latin commentary on Plato’s Symposium, entitled Commentarium in Convivium Platonis De Amore. It will be shown how, through the fictional speech that he put in the mouth of Marsuppini, his chosen spokesperson of the Platonic Agathon, Ficino succeeded, not only in blending Platonic, Plotinian and Christian elements in the reconstruction of an argument that Plato had meant us to regard as flawed to the core, but he also composed an elegant and original speech that continues to intrigue and enchant its readers after a gap of over six centuries. (shrink)

The personality and the writings of Marsilio Ficino mark the turning point from the middleages to the Renaissance. In John Marenbon’s apt description, medieval philosophy is ‘the story of a complex tradition founded in Neoplatonism, but not simply as a continuation or development of Neoplatonism itself’. ‘Not simply’ because the Enneads, the first and finest flowering of that tradition, testify to Plotinus’ deep engagement, not only with the thought of Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics and the Middle Platonists, but also with (...) a variety of theologico-mystical writings of diverse middleeastern provenances, from Egypt to Persia. This complex tradition, Ficino transmitted to the West in the form of translations from Greek into Latin of the dialogues of Plato and the Enneads of Plotinus as well as of several commentaries on those texts by later thinkers. In addition to such exegetical works, Ficino wrote several philosophical treatises of his own. Finally, as an ordained priest, he was also well acquainted with the writings of the Church Fathers, all of which had contributed to his belief that religion should not be separated from philosophy. To the completion of this ambitious scholarly programme and the fulfilment of his commitment to the Church, he brought the resources of his powerfully syncretistic mind. Rather than merely combining various texts and traditions, he made them speak to each other and, in the process, evolved a system that was both sui generis and attuned to the new ways of thinking that were then emerging in quattrocento Florence. His in-depth understanding of all these texts, together with his ability to spot similarities, analogies and correspondences between them, enabled him to fuse into a coherent system various elements which a modern historian of philosophy would regard as dissimilar if not incompatible. His philosophical acumen enabled him, when he thought it appropriate, to improve on the views of those he regarded as his masters and to fill whatever gaps he found in their arguments. The present essay is an attempt to unravel the nature of Ficino’s syncretism, in which three levels of widening scope will be distinguished: authorial, trans-authorial and trans-doctrinal. To achieve a desirable level of both precision and concision, a short text will then be analysed, namely Speech Five of his most widely read treatise, a Latin commentary on Plato’s Symposium, entitled Commentarium in Convivium Platonis De Amore. It will be shown how, through the fictional speech that he put in the mouth of Marsuppini, his chosen spokesperson of the Platonic Agathon, Ficino succeeded, not only in blending Platonic, Plotinian and Christian elements in the reconstruction of an argument that Plato had meant us to regard as flawed to the core, but he also composed an elegant and original speech that continues to intrigue and enchant its readers after a gap of over six centuries. (shrink)

This commentary records, through notes taken by Hermias, Syrianus' seminar on Plato's Phaedrus, one of the world's most influential celebrations of erotic beauty and love. It is the only Neoplatonic commentary on Plato's Phaedrus to have survived in its entirety. Further interest comes from the recorded interventions by Syrianus' pupils - including those by Proclus, his eventual successor as head of the Athenian school, who went on to teach Hermias' father, Ammonius. The second of two volumes of Hermias' commentary, (...) the chapters translated here begin with a discussion of how the discarnate soul is visualised as a winged chariot team whose charioteer may gain some glimpse of beauty itself, which can explain subsequent erotic longing. This volume provides a translation is accompanied by explanatory notes, an introduction detailing the significance and context of the treatise and a scholarly apparatus including multiple indexes, glossaries and a bibliography. (shrink)

This short thesis contains many philosophical and mystical views of Mulla Sadra. He has divided this book into forty chapters and presented the basis of his philosophical views in it. Among these views are Divine Essence and Attributes, the Reality of "being", creation and its stages, the spiritual journey and a discussion of the effects of love.In the first chapter, Mulla Sadra explicated the meaning and the definition of "being". He asserted that being is an external reality which has (...) true existence. All other things except for attributes and their relations do not have true existence. Mulla Sadra based this view on the "principality of being" and the "unity of being". Before reaching this conclusion, Mulla Sadra takes into account the views of Ibn Sina and Aristotle, but his true inspiration and teachings are rooted in the great gnostic, Ibn Arabi.Mulla Sadra agreed with the Peripatetic and the Illuminationist Philosophers on the order of creation and creation itself. He believed that God Almighty first created a divine "united essence" and out of it came "Intelligible substances" which are the cause for the celestial soul and the noble bodies. Sheikh al- Ishraq pays a lot of attention to the issue of celestial bodies and soul. The other mystical issue of this thesis is the spiritual journey. The thing that Mulla Sadra is most concerned with is the first of the four journeys in his celebrated book,AL-Asfar The journeys of the servant to the Creator and the journey of the devoted to the One who is worthy of love. (shrink)

Among the various controversies surrounding the treatise on love attributed to Andreas Capellanus, none is more vexed than the question of the work's tone. Is the De amore to be taken as a serious, straightforward treatment of its subject, or should it be interpreted, in whole or in part, as humorous or ironic? This question is of crucial importance to our understanding of the work and of its place in medieval literature — hence the considerable interest and passion (...) it has aroused. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:76 AN UNNOTICED ERROR IN HUME'S TREATISE "...the conformity between love and hatred in the agreeableness of their sensation makes them always be excited by the same objects..." Treatise, Book II, Part II, Sec. X. This passage from Hume's A Treatise of Human Nature is taken from the first edition of 1739. It can also be found in the Everyman Edition, the editions of Selby-Bigge (...) Mossner, and Green and Grosse, without editorial comment of any kind. Yet it contains a glaring and obvious error. The most superficial reading of Book II will convince one that it is love and pride that conform in the agreeableness of their sensation they are both indirect passions that aire pleasant in feeling. On the other hand, humility and hatred share in being disagree able or unpleasant impressions. This might have been a printer's error, or Hume's own mistake, and the reason for it is not hard to find. This part of Book II was called "Of love and hatred" ; the expression "love and hatred" recurs several times throughout the whole. In ei»ther the writing of the manuscript or the type setting of the text, a habit was established. Habit, which Hume himself used to explain so much else, must here be cited as the explanation of this slip. What is more interesting is the reason why such an obvious error has gone so long unnoticed. Here an ambiguity in Hume's use of the word "object" should be noticed. It is sometimes used simply as a synonym for "thing" and this is the usage in "excited by the same objects". Hume is merely saying that love and pride have the same sorts of cause. When this cause is found in oneself it leads to pride and when in another it leads to love. This of course is connected with the fact that both these passions are aggreeable or pleasant in sensation. 77 "Object" also has a special technical use in Book II when it refers to the person towards whom the passion is directed, as in "the object of the passion". Now love and hatred do have a similar sort of object, i.e. another person, whereas the object of pride and humility is, according to Hume, always oneself. In this usage, the object of a passion is carefully distinguished by Hume from its cause. It is possible that a careless and superficial reading of this passage might lead one to think that Hume meant to say that love and hatred agree in having the same sort of object, i.e. another person. Such inattention is to be deplored, but after all, until very recently, such inattention was typical of the attitude of philosophers towards Book II 2 as a whole. D. W. D. Owen University of Stirling 1.See for instance the previous paragraph; "I have suppos'd all along, that the passions of love and pride, and those of humility and hatred are similar in their sensations, and that the two former are always agreeable, and the two latter painful." 2.Thanks are due to Mr. Roland Hall for checking the first edition on my behalf.... (shrink)

What is a problem? What's asked in that question, and how does one even begin to take its measure? How else could one begin, except as one does with any other problem--by way of its impulsion. Of Learned Ignorance: Idea of a Treatise in Philosophy is about philosophy because philosophy is about problems: philosophy, in a word, is where problems become a problem. After Anti-Oedipus, in the Kafka book and in A Thousand Plateaus, what Deleuze and Guattari counsel, strikingly, (...) is sobriety. Sobriety is what they praise in Kafka. And it is sobriety that seems above all else to be necessary here. (Steven Shaviro has pointed out the prominence of structure in Deleuze's writing: "even when Deleuze's prose, by himself or with Guattari, seems to be ranging anarchically all over the place, in fact it has a rigid and unvarying architecture, which is what keeps it from falling apart.") Of Learned Ignorance is a dead letter because it names a problem. It's a dead letter because it is, cautiously, a love letter. It's a dead letter because it lovingly stages an experiment in whimsy, and perhaps above all, because it is problematic (in the Kantian sense): It is a (sober) attempt at exemplifying what it talks about -- and what eludes it: A series of footnotes, with blank (transcriptive) pages above, effects something like the integration of a differential, the reciprocal determination where the sources enter into in relation to one another in order to produce a paper, essay, or (inexistent) (chap)book. Of Learned Ignorance, in facing down a problem, makes a wager; it courts failure; it puts it all on the line. All, yes, for love -- a kind of love... (of wisdom?). (shrink)

This essay argues that, for Aquinas, grace both intends and makes possible the theological life of charity and that charity reveals the path to beatitude. But it also emphasizes that charity is not a private or purely spiritual relationship with God, but is rather a way of life that continually draws one out of the self in love and service to others. This is most clearly seen in Aquinas’s treatise on love of enemy and the different effects (...) of charity. The essay begins by exploring how Aquinas’s theology of the Trinity informs his account of grace and charity. It then investigates his understanding of the nature and necessity of grace and the form of life that grace makes possible. This is followed by an analysis of Aquinas’s account of charity as friendship with God and its implications for the life of grace. The essay concludes by considering some of the effects of charity and why they make a life of friendship with God a genuinely ecstatic existence. (shrink)

Hume concludes Book II of his Treatise of Human Nature with a section on the passion of curiosity, ‘that love of truth, which was the first source of all our enquiries’. At first sight, this characterisation of curiosity – as the motivating factor in that specifically human activity that is the pursuit of knowledge – may seem unoriginal. However, when Hume speaks of the ‘source of all our enquiries’, he is referring both to the universal human pursuit of (...) knowledge and to his own philosophical project. Seen in this light, his discussion of curiosity takes on a new significance, as it weaves together elements of his systematic account of human nature – notably, his theory of cognition and motivation – with observations about the pursuit of philosophy as well as the progress of the arts and sciences. In the present paper, I offer a reconstruction of Hume’s view on curiosity and its role in cognition and inquiry. (shrink)

A timeless treatise on what constitutes the Hindu way of life Religion in India can appear to be a confusing tangle of myths, with many different gods and goddesses worshipped in countless forms.This complexity stems from a love of story-telling, as much as anything else, but it is only the surface expression of Indian faith. Beneath can be found a system of unifying beliefs that have guided the lives of ordinary families for generations. Here, one of the most (...) profound philosophers of India explains these and other related concepts intrinsic to the Hindu philosophy of life. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:161 HUME ON RESPONSIBILITY For Hume, to hold a person morally responsible for an action is morally to approve of him or to blame him in virtue of the action. Moreover, as he says in the Treatise of Human Nature, "approbation or blame... is nothing but a fainter and more imperceptible love or hatred." How must an action be related to a person in order for the (...) person to be held morally responsible for the action? Since to hold a person morally responsible for an action is morally to approve of him or to blame him in virtue of the action, and since moral approval or blame is nothing but a fainter and more imperceptible love or hatred, the first stage in answering this question is to attempt to answer the following more general question: How must an action be related to a person in order for the person to be loved or hated because of the action? This question, in turn, requires one to consider some of the main features of Hume's account of the passions of love and hatred. One main feature of Hume's account of these passions is that he distinguishes between the object of love and hatred and their causes. Hume says: As the immediate object of pride and humility is self or that identical person, of whose thoughts, actions, and sensations we are intimately conscious; so the object of love and hatred is some other person, of whose thoughts, actions, and sensations we are not conscious (T 329). Though the object of love and hatred be some person other than one-self, the object is not, strictly speaking, the cause, that is, the sole and 162 sufficient cause. For if the other person were the cause, then he would cause both passions in oneself; and since love and hatred nullify one another, neither could ever exist. The causes of love and hatred are complex and diversified. The ingredients of such causes are as follows: First, there are certain general qualities or circumstances. These may be subdivided as follows: (a) mental qualities: qualities of a person such as virtue, knowledge, wit, tend to produce love; those such as vice, ignorance, dullness, tend to produce hatred; (b) bodily features: beauty, strength, swiftness are conducive to love; their opposites, to hatred; (c) external advantages and disadvantages, such as family position, possessions, clothing, etc., can contribute to the production of love or hatred. But, secondly, these qualities or circumstances, considered in abstraction, cannot cause love or hatred. They must be related to the person who is the object of love or hatred. For example, knowing of a beautiful palace cannot lead one to esteem a particular prince unless the palace is related to him by, for instance, being his property. Thirdly, in order for mental qualities, bodily features, or external advantages or disadvantages to produce love or hatred, they must not only be related to the object of these passions; they must also induce pleasure or displeasure. Without pleasure or displeasure, neither love nor hatred could arise. How, then, do actions figure in the causation of love or hatred? An action can cause pleasure or pain. But, for Hume, an action's production of pleasure or pain is a necessary but not a sufficient condition for the production of love or hatred towards the person whose action it is. In addition, 163 the action must be related to the person. But an action is of relatively short duration. Thus, Hume argues: 'Tis not enough, that the action arise from the person, and have him for its immediate cause and author. This relation alone is too feeble and inconstant to be a foundation for these passions. It reaches not the sensible and thinking part, and neither proceeds from any thing durable in him, nor leaves any thing behind it; but passes in a moment, and as if it had never been. On the other hand, an intention shews certain qualities, which, remaining after the action is perform'd, connect it with the person, and facilitate the transition of ideas from one to the other (T 349). Now, as we have seen, Hume holds that 'approbation or blame... is... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS The Recovery of Virtue: The Relevance of Aquinas for Christian Ethics. By JEAN PORTER. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1990. Pp. 208. $24.95 (cloth). On Faith: Summa Theologiae 2-2, qq. 1-16 of St. Thomas Aquinas. Translated by MARK D. JoRDAN. Readings in the Summa the· ologiae, Vol. 1. Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1990. Pp. 208. $9.95 (paper). Two recent publications well serve the (...) growing interest in what Aquinas has to say about virtue, human and divine. First, Jean Porter carefully studies the general " moral theory of Thomas Aquinas's Summa theologiae in the light of the problematics of contemporary Christian ethics, Protestant as well as Catholic " (p. 13). Her work incorporates a readable introduction to the main components of Aquinas's moral philosophy: a realist conception of the good, the instantiation of that good in the world of human actions and goals, and the ordering of choice towards the good through virtue. Secondly, Mark Jordan introduces a new translation in a " spare but accessible English" (p. 18) of the treatise on faith (Summa theologiae Ha-Hae qq, 1-16). Since both volumes concern the secunda pars of Aquinas's Summa theologiae, we can suitably examine their merits in this single review. The Recovery of Virtue aims at drawing the thought of Aquinas into a clearer dialogue with those who write about theological ethics in the English-speaking world. Accordingly, Porter prefaces her fine study with a fair, though brief, survey of Catholic moral theology since Vatican II and summary accounts of the dominant themes in the works of Gene Outka, James Gustafson, and Stanley Hauerwas. She th.en turns to a " reconstruction of the more strictly philosophical components " of Aquinas's moral theory as contained in the Summa theologiae. In chapter 2, Porter explains some basic notions which undergird Aquinas's general theory of morals, for example, his notion of goodness as something real; the premise that what is good or best for anyone is so in virtue of its being of a certain kind; the assertion that the self remains a legitimate " object " of theological charity; the view that one discovers intelligibility and organization within the created order; and finally, the conviction that the final perfection of the ra141 142 BOOK REVIEWS tional creature transcends the limits which creatureliness itself imposes. In chapter 3, Porter gives a fine account of Aquinas's action theory, illustrated by the sorts of good examples that Aquinas himself would have used today. Thomas Gilby once remarked that end so dominates the secunda pars that it should he read through to say what it means. Porter's first three chapters render a clear, organized analysis of Aquinas's moral teleology. Still, I would like to raise two small issues which may suggest lines for further inquiry. First, Porter asks whether Aquinas's teleological frame of reference allows for performing actions " without reference to any wider aim" (p. 76). As examples of those things which one can simply desire for themselves, she proposes engagement in or with: " fine music, a life of service, chocolates, children, religious ecstasy, sexual ecstasy... the list is endless" (loc. cit.). First of all, this list of examples seems to ignore a basic distinction between a finis cui and a finis cuius gratia, or the difference between something that is sought for itself and something which is sought for the sake of a further end. A person may never virtuously subordinate children and (service to) other people to his or her own goals or purposes (including delight). We can render them their due according to the diverse types of justice, even expect to receive something good from them in theological hope, and above all love them in theological charity. But we can never turn them into a finis cnius gratia. On the other hand, fine music, chocolates, and ecstasy both sexual and religious (if by the latter one means created thoughts and feelings about God and not union with God himself) always remain instrumental, that is, they can never virtuously serve as a finis cui. If we take Porter's example, Aquinas's teleological framework includes the chocolate ice-cream... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Comments on Margaret Watkins, The Philosophical Progress of Hume’s “Essays”Jacqueline Taylor (bio)After David Hume’s death, Adam Smith wrote a letter to Hume’s publisher, William Strahan, to recount some of the final words and the attitude of “our late excellent friend, Mr. Hume.”1 Despite declining health and increasing weakness, Hume faced his approaching demise “with great cheerfulness” (EMPL xlvi). He had recently been reading Lucian’s Dialogues of the Dead, and (...) although feeling he had every reason “to die contented,” Smith describes the “jocular excuses” Hume might make to Charon to delay his death (EMPL xlv). He first requests more time so that he can see how the public responds to the latest corrections he had been making to his works, but Charon replied that this would only lead Hume to want more time to make further corrections. Hume tries another tack: “Have a little patience, good Charon, I have been endeavouring to open the eyes of the public. If I live a few years longer, I may have the satisfaction of seeing the downfall of some of the prevailing systems of superstition,” to which Charon replies, “You loitering rogue, that will not happen these many hundred years... Get into the boat this instant, you lazy loitering rogue” (EMPL xlvi). This imaginary dialogue makes evident Hume’s self-awareness as an author who cared greatly about both the correctness of his written works and the influence of these works on the public.In her book, Margaret Watkins argues that Hume’s concern to open the eyes of the public goes well beyond attempts to bring about the downfall of systems of superstition.2 She credits him with the broader aim of writing essays for a literate audience that would stimulate both public and individual improvement in various areas of human activity, including government, work, aesthetic experience, and intimate [End Page 155] relationships. The first three chapters of the book examine the case for Hume’s concern with public improvement. Chapter 1 focuses primarily on the political essays, and examines Hume’s account of governing and his criticism of the irrationality apt to arise with divisive political factionalism. Chapter 2 turns to inequalities of power and the circumstances that allow some to exercise to a greater degree the domineering tendency that is part of human nature. Watkins uses Hume’s essay on the population size of ancient and modern societies to reconstruct his view on the ills—to both masters and slaves—of ancient slaveholding. She complicates this discussion by looking at modern slaveholding in the colonies, and Hume’s puzzling lack of attention to this. In the ancient world, slaveholding resulted from war and conquest, and Watkins examines how ancient warfare also led to greater ferocity and anger in fighting and exacerbated cruelty (a trait Hume had deemed the worst vice in the Treatise [T 3.3.3.8]).3 This is another place where Watkins sees Hume taking stock of modern improvements. In the wide-ranging third chapter, entitled “Working,” Watkins considers economic circumstances as moral causes that can shape character, highlighting the importance for Hume of the commercial virtues, especially industry.4 She also shows that in the four essays on happiness, modeled on Hellenistic sects, each type of philosopher regards industry, or at least occupation, as essential to human happiness. Watkins concludes that the need for industry is thus something we are naturally motivated to seek out, and so an integral part of human nature. Chapter 4, on “Composing,” shows Watkins’s talents as a philosophical essayist in her own right, as she relates art and other forms of beauty to the cultivation of calm passions. We find here an insightful discussion of art, whether composing or consuming, as having particularly therapeutic effects on melancholy and other forms of nervous conditions. Chapters 5 and 6 take up, respectively, love for oneself and love for others. The former looks at the importance Hume places on both self-love and pride. Here Watkins draws primarily on Hume’s more morally theoretical works, both the Treatise and EPM, since they have more to say about self-valuing. Chapter 6 shows how we may fruitfully read... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume and Davidson on Pride Pall S. krdal In reading the Treatise one has to be alive to the fact that Hume gives certain crucial words new meanings. He does not always draw the reader's attention to this and sometimes explicitly claims to be using terms with their ordinarymeaningswhen heis clearlygiving the words special technical uses by expanding or contracting their usual meanings. "Passion," "love," "hatred," "pride," (...) and "humility" have special meanings in Hume's psychological scheme. He also sometimes uses important terms with more than one meaning, as in the case of "justice." The word "justice" both is the title of Book 3, Part 2 of the Treatise, which deals with a number ofartificial virtues, and alsorefers to the much narrower concept ofthe respectfor property. The following two questions should be borne in mind: "What did Hume have to say about what he calls justice, passion, love, etc.?" and "What did Hume have to say about what we refer to by the same terms?" Thus, Books 2 and 3 of the Treatise may be described as attempting to show how unbiased evaluations are possible, in spite ofthe fact that our passions are naturally biased and judgments of virtue and vice are passions. This clearly involves a discussion of how we can do justice to our own and other peoples' qualities ofmind or character. Hume, therefore, had something very important to say about what we call justice, but his contribution to issues involving what we call justice today is obscured by his terminology. In what follows I shall be claiming that Hume's account of pride throws light upon what we call pride although he clearly was not aiming to do so. Donald Davidson, in a footnote to "Hume's Cognitive Theory of Pride," points out that there is a close similarity between his reading ofHume on pride andmy own treatment ofprideinPassionand Value. Since the two accounts were arrived at completely independently, each ofus can see the other'sinterpretation as some confirmation ofhis own. The accounts are not identical, however, and without aiming at a comprehensive comparison, I shall attempt to decide whether one or two ofthe apparent differences between our accounts indicate substantial disagreement. I shall try not to confuse the following four questions: "What did Hume thinkconstitutes pride?""Whatlesson do I, and whatlesson does Davidson think one could learn from Hume's account?" and finally, "What constitutes pride?" Davidson and I agree that a lesson is to be Volume XV Number 2 387 PALL ARDAL learned from Hume's account, but disagree about the nature of this lesson because of a disagreement about the nature of pride. Both Davidson and I think that Hume's claim that pride is a simple impression is an embarrassment to him. It does not have any immediate appeal and also leads him to clearly misrepresent the relation between pride and its object. Pride has self as its object in the sense that it is a form of self-evaluation. Hume misrepresents this relation as a causal relation between pride and the thoughtofoneself. Whenever one is proud, one's thought is drawn to oneself, but according to Hume it couldhave been otherwise. Itjust so happens that the feeling ofpride makes one think of oneself, that when you are already proud your thought turns to yourself. Hume, it is true, does not always represent the relation between the object of pride and the passion itself as contingent. Much ofwhathe says suggests the more plausible view that pride is essentially a form of self-evaluation, but the lesson we can learn from Hume we can learn in spite ofhis atomism, so let us follow Davidson and disregard the atomism, while admitting its presence in Hume's account. Davidson points out that the pride Hume is talking about is pride for a reason. I follow Hume in talking about the cause ofpride, or what makes one proud, but the two accounts seem to me to be very similar on this issue. The two accounts are alsoin agreement thatHume should have said that the proud person must see the cause of pride as having value rather than as an independent source of pleasure, but we are... (shrink)

When we think of desire in the Middle Ages we immediately recall the religious exhortation to love God and despise the flesh. My present subject is not the desire for God but the less sublime theme of sexual desire, however the two may have been linked. Sexual desire was a central intellectual concern for medieval thinkers despite their reputed aversion to the subject. It was not, for example, the trifunctional schema of modern celebrity — oratores, bellatores, laboratores — that (...) was the earliest and most pervasive of medieval social classifications, but the trisexual division among coniugati, continentes, and virgines. In other words, the human race was fundamentally grouped according to sexual activity. As advocates of virginity, the monks were the first to pronounce on sexuality, and they formulated the terms of discourse lasting into the early Middle Ages. By 1200, however, I can find no new monastic treatise De laude virginitatis in northern France deemed worthy of transcribing because of the author's fame or the weight of its argument. Contemporary theologians were equally indifferent. (shrink)

In Ennead III.5 On Love, Plotinus' discussion of erôs is underlined by Plato’s discourse on love in the Symposium and the Phaedrus.[1] Plotinus conceives erôs as a purified power, which directs the soul to the intelligible realm of beauty and the world of the Forms.[2] Modern scholarship considers the Plotinian erôs as an ascending power that is always directed to the higher realm of the Forms and never to the lower perceptible realm. Throughout the Enneads, the soul is (...) described as purely and originally an intelligible entity in all its manifestations and expressions (ex. Ennead IV.8).[3] Plotinus particularly supports a dual aspect theory of the soul, in which the homogenous psychē consists of two interrelated aspects - a higher intelligible part related to Intellect, and a lower perceptible part related to the sensible bodies (Caluori, 2015; Remes, 2007; Stamatellos, 2013; Stern-Gillet, 2009). However, limited attention has been paid to the intelligible aspects of the soul's desire in Plotinus' conception of erôs. In this context, this paper aims to revisit the view that Plotinus completely refuted the desire of the physical bodies, and consequently refuted erôs as a power directed to the lower perceptible realm (Ferwerda, 1965; Friedländer, 1964; Hadot, 1963; Wallis, 1995). It is argued that in light of the soul's intelligibility, desire also has an intelligible aspect when it is directed, along with the power of love, to the earthly realm and thus the true intelligible beauty of the perceptible bodies is recognized. [1] Hereafter, all quotations from Plotinus’ Enneads will solely refer to Armstrong’s (1966-1988) translations. [2] See Bertozzi (2012, 2021); Tatarkiewicz (1980); Wallis (1995); Wiitala (2013), Vasilakis (2021). [3] For Plotinus’ theory of the soul, see his treatises in Ennead IV. Also see Blumenthal (1971) and Caluori (2015). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:David Hume on Personal Identity and the Indirect Passions Robert S. Henderson Scholarly reflection on Hume's "doctrine" ofselfand personal identity continues to focus on the sections "Of Personal Identity" and the "Appendix" toA Treatise ofHuman Nature. To answer the question of why we have so great a propension to ascribe an identity to these successiveperceptions which make up experience, Hume says that we must distinguish betwixtpersonal identity, as (...) it regards our thought or imagination, and as it regards our passions or the concern we take in ourselves. He considers only the former in these sections. Towards the end of the personal identity section he writes that our identity with regard to the passions serves to corroborate that with regard to the imagination, by the making our distant perceptions influence each other, and by giving us a present concern for ourpast or future pains or pleasures (T 261). In the advertisement to the Treatise Hume says that the subjects of the understanding and passions make a compleat chain of reasoning by themselves (T xii). In light of the importance Hume attaches to the distinction, and since there are many indications that the Treatise should be read as an integral whole, it is surprising that so little attention is given to what he says of personal identity in the other books. As the title suggests, this paper concentrates on the second part of the distinction and especially on the discussion ofthe indirectpassions in Book II of the Treatise. This is not to suggest that self does not play an important role elsewhere in Hume's science ofman; for example, it is selfwhich experiences the impression ofwill and the direct passions. However, the indirect passions have a particularly important part to play in ascriptions of personal identity and this justifies the present investigation. II We can safely predict that personal identity as it regards our passions will not be the idea??some philosophers whose views of self as having the philosophical (strict) relation ofidentity Hume has rejected in "Of Personal Identity." The relationship between thought and passion to which he draws attention suggests that the idea of selfin this context has a relation to the positive suggestions in that earlier section of why Volume XVI Number 1 33 ROBERT S. HENDERSON we do speak meaningfully of the identity of the self. We are able so to speak because ofarelationship which is felt to exist between a person's distinct and changing perceptions. The relationship has to do with the discovery by memory of the connection of a person's perceptions through the association ofideas by resemblance and causation (T 261). Examination of the idea of self to which Hume makes frequent reference in Book II requires some review ofthe method ofthe Treatise. Perceptions make up human experience. Perceptions are either impressions or ideas which derive from impressions. Hume describes the indirect passions as secondary or reflective impressions and these stem from original impressions or from their ideas. He distinguishes between direct andindirect passions. Directpassionsarise immediately fromgood or evil, frompain orpleasure (T 276). Examples are joy, hope and fear. Indirect passionsproceed from the same principles, but by the conjunction ofother qualities (T 276). That is, the indirect passions not onlyhave a cause (an impression which excites them), but also an object (to which the passion directs our view when excited). We shall see that a significant quality of the indirect passions is the relation of these impressions to their objects, which are either one's own or another's self. In Book II of the Treatise Hume examines the indirect passions: love, hate, pride and humility. These passions are evaluations of persons; of selfin the case of pride and humility, and of another in the case of love and hatred. Evaluation of persons is a central feature of Hume's moral philosophy: To have the sense ofvirtue, is nothing but to feel a satisfaction of a particular kind from the contemplation of a character. The very feeling constitutes our praise or admiration (T 471). We shall see that the indirect passions in particular make an important contribution to the answer ofHume's original question ofthe source?? owe propension to ascribe an identity. Ill... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:26. DAVID HUME ON REASON, PASSIONS AND MORALS Perhaps the most notorious passage in Hume's Treatise is the one that concerns the relative roles of reason and passions, where he says: Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions (T 415). This psychology of action is the foundation of Hume's moral theory, wherein we find his two other notorious dicta, one being!.¡oral distinctions cannot (...) be derived from reason, and the other, Ought cannot be derived from is. Many commentators have interpreted Hume as saying that reason plays no role in the making of moral judgments, and, while not taking the rationalistic line, criticized him for not giving reason its proper due. The aim of this paper is to show that Hume's primary concern is to argue against the rationalist position which takes reason to be sufficient (always or sometimes) to move one to act, and to give rise to moral judgments. I wish to show that Hume is only concerned with dismissing the claim that reason could be a sufficient condition, not that it is a necessary one. Indeed, Hume could be interpreted as saying that reason is no less important than passions in shaping human conduct, anc in the area of inorai conduct, there can be no moral judgments without the work of reason. At the same time, however, passions remain the prime mover; reason does not move us to act (generally, hence morally). 1 shall try to show that the dictum '¿¡oral distinctions cannot be derived from reason' is essentially correct, but its being correct in no way shows that reason is not a necessary element of moral distinctions. 27. Before discussing the views of some critics of Hume's moral theory, it is important to clear up one source of misunderstanding that lies in Hume's discussion of the psychology of action. When Hume says that reason is the slave of passions, he does not say thereby that reason is unimportant. He is saying merely that reason alone does not move one to act. The force that propels one to action is the passion, whether it be love, or anger, or pride, or envy, or fear, or desire. Reason alone does not provide the motive. However, it is reason that does the groundwork, analyzing facts, perceiving relations, and drawing conclusions, all of which go to determine which action to perform, but the action will not be performed unless one of the passions is also present. Just because reason is the slave does not indicate that its work is not relevant. To extend the slavery metaphor, we may observe that slave owners supported slavery for the very reason that the slave's work was found indispensable; analogously, it must be observed that Hume is most unlikely to hole that reason plays no part in human action. To complete the analogy, we should say that while much could be achieved with slaves, it was the masters who conceived the plan, and the masters must rank higher in the causal order. We may observe further that greater achievement could be had by treating slaves properly, not overworking them, and not ill-treating them. If reason is the slave, it will be in our interest to cultivate it, sharpen it, and use it always and to the full. This could be inferred from HuTr.e's discussion of the understanding in Book 1 of the Treatise. indeed, in the conclusion of Book I, Hume points out forcefully that we contradict ourselves if we hold that no refin'd or elaborate reasoning is ever to be 28. receiv'd (T 268). For it is only through reasoning that we arrive at any such conclusion. He goes on to say: Very refin'd reflections have little or no influence upon us; and yet we do not, and cannot establish it for a rule, that they ought not to have any influence; which implies a manifest contradiction (T268). There cannot be a clearer demonstration that it is not the case that Hume fails to give reason its proper due. Later, I shall cite further evidence for this in relation specifically to the role of reason in... (shrink)

Available in English for the first time, Imperfect Garden is both an approachable intellectual history and a bracing treatise on how we should understand and experience our lives. In it, one of France's most prominent intellectuals explores the foundations, limits, and possibilities of humanist thinking. Through his critical but sympathetic excavation of humanism, Tzvetan Todorov seeks an answer to modernity's fundamental challenge: how to maintain our hard-won liberty without paying too dearly in social ties, common values, and a coherent (...) and responsible sense of self.Todorov reads afresh the works of major humanists--primarily Montaigne, Rousseau, and Constant, but also Descartes, Montesquieu, and Toqueville. Each chapter considers humanism's approach to one major theme of human existence: liberty, social life, love, self, morality, and expression. Discussing humanism in dialogue with other systems, Todorov finds a response to the predicament of modernity that is far more instructive than any offered by conservatism, scientific determinism, existential individualism, or humanism's other contemporary competitors. Humanism suggests that we are members of an intelligent and sociable species who can act according to our will while connecting the well-being of other members with our own. It is through this understanding of free will, Todorov argues, that we can use humanism to rescue universality and reconcile human liberty with solidarity and personal integrity.Placing the history of ideas at the service of a quest for moral and political wisdom, Todorov's compelling and no doubt controversial rethinking of humanist ideas testifies to the enduring capacity of those ideas to meditate on--and, if we are fortunate, cultivate--the imperfect garden in which we live. (shrink)

In The Body of Compassion, Joel Shuman presents an important, new theological treatment of contemporary bioethics, weaving together personal experience, a critical treatise on contemporary bioethics, and an exploration of a Christian theological alternative.The author first draws the reader into a consideration of the current state of bioethics by relating the story of his grandfather, a hard-working family man who died a solitary death, unaccompanied by loved ones, in the unfamiliar and sterile world of a hospital. Troubled by the (...) way his grandfather died, Shuman takes the reader along as he explores how modern medicine has distanced itself from dealing with people as living beings beyond their immediate physicality. He examines how various approaches to bioethics over the past twenty years have tried to remedy this problem by prescribing certain standards for treatment and how each of these ultimately has fallen short due to the lack of “a teleological concern for the body”—i.e., to trying to understand what the body is actually for in a larger context. From this point, Shuman deftly moves to a discussion of the centrality of the body to Christianity, focusing on how baptism, participation in the liturgy, and the partaking of the Eucharist all serve to unite Christians as one in the body of Christ. For Christians, the author argues, the body does not just belong to the individual but rather is one with the community of the Church. With this in mind, Shuman proposes a new kind of bioethics for Christians, where care for the body of Christ becomes the model of how we should care for and receive care from each other.This fresh and thought-provoking book is sure to be of interest to ethicists, medical professionals, and everyone who is troubled by places where science and religion intersect and seem to conflict. (shrink)