The position on the question of divine providence of the Aristotelian commentator Alexander of Aphrodisias (fl. c. A.D. 200) is of particular interest. It marks an attempt to find avia mediabetween the Epicurean denial of any divine concern for the world, on the one hand, and the Stoic view that divine providence governs it in every detail, on the other.2As an expression of such a middle course it finds a place in later classifications of views concerning providence.3It is also of (...) topical interest: Alexander's fullest discussion, in his treatiseDe providentia (On Providence)(surviving only in two Arabic versions), has only recently been edited and translated,4although some aspects of his position had long been known from other texts preserved in Greek.5. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Punishing PisoJohn BodelWhen cn. piso cheated justice by taking his life before the formal condemnation that awaited him, the Senate imposed six posthumous penalties, which are duly recorded in the senatus consultum of 10 December A.D. 20. 11. Piso was not to be publicly mourned by the women of his family (SCPP 73–75).2. All statues and portraits of Piso anywhere were to be taken down (75–76).3. Members of the (...) Calpurnian family by blood or through marriage were urged to exclude the portrait mask of Piso from the parade of imagines at family funerals (76–82).4. Piso’s name was to be erased from a statue of Germanicus near the Ara Providentiae in the Campus Martius (82–84).5. Piso’s property, with the exception of an estate in Illyricum given to him by Augustus, was declared public property and was then returned, in the name of the Senate and princeps, to his two sons and daughter, in exchange for which the elder son was enjoined to change his praenomen, Gnaeus (84–105).6. The structures built by Piso over the Porta Fontinalis to connect his private houses were to be torn down (105–8).Tacitus’ abbreviated and selective account (Ann. 3.17–18) omits all but two of these penalties—those concerning the confiscation of Piso’s [End Page 43] property and the striking of his name from public records—and reports only partial truths about these. Why Tacitus omits what he does and distorts what he reports are questions of considerable interest for understanding his historiographical aims and methods (see Woodman and Martin 1996, 114–18, 185–88). This essay has the more limited and preliminary objective of delineating the background against which they must be posed by considering the implications of the four penalties not mentioned by Tacitus (1, 3, 4, 6) for the shaping of public image in Tiberian Rome. For this purpose, two basic similarities with Tacitus’ account may be briefly noted.First, despite the professed aim of the senators condemning Piso to eradicate all memory of him and his misdeeds, the clause of their decree mandating its publication in major cities and at military headquarters throughout the empire, “so that the order of the whole affair could be handed down to the memory of future generations and they would know what the Senate had decided about... the crimes of the elder Cn. Piso,” fundamentally undermines its ostensible purpose. 2 Like Tacitus, who explicitly embraced the historian’s traditional task of branding infamy in order to deter future misconduct (Ann. 3.65.1), the senators condemning Piso meant his punishment to set an example for posterity. 3 Since the bulk of Piso’s estate was to be returned to his intended heirs, their punitive measures were directed more at his reputation than at his substance and thus belong to that category of condemnation we call damnatio memoriae. Paradoxically, however, the Senate’s desire to advertise its exemplary severity in this instance undermined its efforts to expunge the memory of the condemned, rendering the punishment symbolic and paradigmatic rather than practically effective.Second, like Tacitus, who proclaims the geographical focus of his Annales in the opening words, the Roman Senate concentrated its condemnation of Piso’s memory on the city of Rome. Although the instructions [End Page 44] for publication of the document mention only provincial cities and the army (and wherever else Tiberius wished), and although the six or seven copies of the text that survive all derive from Baetica, the penalties themselves are largely and practically centered on the capital. 4 In this Romanocentric perspective the new senatus consultum shares the orientation of the document that served as the model for all monumentalized public declarations in Tiberian Rome, the Res Gestae Divi Augusti (see Elsner 1996). Like that inscriptional monument, the decree condemning Piso—principally displayed at a chosen location in the capital (SCPP 169–70, quo loco Ti. Caes(ari) Aug(usto) videretur) and yet destined for publication (and fated for preservation) at the far ends of the empire—implicitly balances the conduct of res transmarinae (31) with monuments at the capital and thus directs... (shrink)

In this note an allusion recreated from Seneca’s De providentia is rescued as it was hidden in the Octavius of Minucius Felix, which recovers and adapted some topics from the Senecan text in a few brief lines which have been hitherto practically unnoticed; if the allusion is verified, a more recent reading of Seneca’s writing would make full argumentative sense.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Piso in Chicago: A Commentary on the APA/AIA Joint Seminar on the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone PatreHarriet I. FlowerThe discussion which follows comprises comments on the papers by John Bodel, D. S. Potter, and Richard Talbert which were delivered at the APA/AIA seminar on the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre in Chicago, 28 December 1997. Those papers, now collected (with some minor revisions) in this issue of (...) AJP, cover a variety of topics ranging from Piso’s punishments to the virtues espoused and advertised in the rhetoric of the Julio-Claudians, from the chronology of events in A.D. 19–20 to the relationship between the decree and the account of Piso’s trial in Tacitus (Ann. 3.10–18). They serve to illustrate just some of the many aspects of Roman life which have been illuminated in new and vivid detail by the publication of the decree. My purpose here is to reflect upon these particular papers and to prompt further thought about a number of questions arising from the decree. Remarks below are focused closely on the meaning and interpretation of the new text itself. Rather than seeking to take a definite stance on every issue, my aim here is to explore some interpretations and to prompt further debate. Even as the Senate’s decree provides us with a wealth of fresh insights into events in Rome and in the empire in 19–20, it also reveals the limits of our knowledge and understanding about many areas of Roman life.J. Bodel, “Punishing Piso”In his detailed and well-argued paper John Bodel focuses on four of the six penalties imposed by the Senate on Cn. Calpurnius Piso after his suicide:1. The ban on mourning by women (lines 73–75)2. The ban on Piso’s imago (76–82) [End Page 99]3. The erasure of Piso’s name from the statue of Germanicus set up by the sodales Augustales in the Campus Martius near the Altar of Providentia (82–84)4. The demolition of additions built by Piso to link various private houses supra portem Fontinalem (105–8).Bodel has chosen to comment on these four penalties since they reflect Piso’s public image in Rome. A focus on specific penalties is helpful in getting to grips with the implications of the Senate’s imposition of post-mortem sanctions, commonly referred to as damnatio memoriae. However, all six of the penalties are actually part of the damnatio memoriae, and it is also important to consider them as a group. 1 As Bodel has clearly shown, they were specifically tailored to Piso’s case. They seem to be listed in an order which suggests events in sequence after a death, starting with mourning by women, moving through commemoration, and ending up with questions of property, which would, under other circumstances, have been disposed of through the will of the deceased. The property is actually divided between two generations of Piso’s descendants as provision is also made for his granddaughter Calpurnia. She was the child of his eldest son and must have been very young at the time of the trial. 2As Bodel has so perceptively emphasized, the penalties imposed on Piso reflect a tension between the desire to remember the villain, by holding him up as an example to warn others, and the desire to erase his memory, since being forgotten is integral to his punishment. This tension is further emphasized by the title of Copy A of the new decree found at Irni, which was added locally by the governor, N. Vibius Seranus. Piso’s name appears in large letters over the very decree which bans his memory. There is an essential contradiction here, but it is a contradiction which is actually typical of sanctions against memory in Roman culture. A similar contradiction is inherent in other traditional penalties not imposed on Piso, such as the celebration of the day on which the disgraced person died. Scribonius Libo Drusus had suffered this disgrace only four years earlier (Tac. Ann. 2.32.4). In the same way, as Bodel has discussed in a recent article (1997), the traitors of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Prudence: Classical Virtue, Postmodern PracticeFrancis A. BeerPrudence: Classical Virtue, Postmodern Practice. Ed. Robert Hariman. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2003. Pp. xi + 337. $65.00, cloth."Would it be prudent?" The phrase echoes in memory, linking Dana Carvey from Saturday Night Live to the presidency of the first George Bush. Robert Hariman has been wrestling with prudence for over a decade, and he has now produced a powerful (...) volume that brings together not only his thoughts but also those of a number of other distinguished authors. The result is a book that will become a standard reference for those interested in prudence.The subtitle, Classical Virtue, Postmodern Practice, and the title of the first chapter, "Theory without Modernity," give some idea of the subtexts that drive the book. This is a book about prudence, and more. It is about virtue in classical, modern, and postmodern settings. It is about the dynamic complexity of practice—decision, judgment, and action in public and private life.Hariman gives us a definition: "Prudence is a mode of reasoning about contingent matters in order to select the best course of action" (5). That would be too easy. He also surrounds prudence with a penumbra of related words to broaden our understanding of the complex lattice of semantic meaning. Our legacy from the Greek and Roman lexicon includes words like phronesis and prudentia. Contemporary nouns involve cautiousness, circumspection, and care. Related adjectives are "careful, judicious, tactful, discerning, sensible, frugal, wise, sage, level-headed, balanced, moderate, politic, practical pragmatic, expedient" (vii). These synonyms, for Hariman, describe a narrow, modern form of prudence, part of the calculative tradition inherited from Aristotle, that ultimately leads to the saddle points of rational choice. They are, however, only a part of the story. Hariman aims to relieve their "stodginess" by recovering the performative tradition of prudence from Cicero. Prudence, from this perspective, is defined not just abstractly as a set of rules but more dynamically as a set of roles. Prudence includes character, and is performed by characters. Pericles in Athens is an iconic example of superb political leadership that blends the honor of the leader with the glory of the state. Prudence combines integrity of the self with respect for others. This is a broad, ambitious interpretation [End Page 176] of prudence. It recuperates not only a classical vision of prudence but also one of politics. It rearranges other virtues to revolve in a constellation around prudence. In this reconstituted form, prudence reemerges to shine as "a crucial element of political leadership," the central political virtue.The book is divided into three parts: "Conceptual Frameworks," "Rhetorical Structures," and "Provisional Networks." All three of the sections are identified in structural terms, which is interesting since Hariman's conception of prudence as a primary political virtue is very agent-centered. The structures, however, provide the settings in which the political observers and actors perform. The first section provides a sample of the rich literature that focuses on philosophical concepts of prudence in earlier times and places. It begins with a chapter by Robert W. Cape Jr. that discusses "Cicero and the Development of Political Practice in Rome." This chapter is critical to the book, since it lays a part of the foundation. It is the first substantive essay and it must also make the case for combining calculative and performative prudence. Cape gives us a fine exposition of prudentia in the Roman context. Interestingly, he suggests that "prudentia is a contraction of providentia, "'foresight.'" (37).The virtue of prudence was typically associated with age and experience. Imprudence, on the other hand, was associated with youth, recklessness, and impropriety (37). Prudence involved knowledge of practical matters, law, and custom as well as proper speech, including rhetoric, and behavior. Prepon mattered. Prudence for Cicero, however, was much more than simply knowing how things work: it was ultimately the extended performance of justice on the public stage. The next chapter, by Eugene Garver, entitled "After Virtù: Rhetoric, Prudence, and Moral Pluralism in Machiavelli," moves the story of prudence from the late classical to the early modern period. As the title indicates, Garver's concern is also with the relation of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:THE INCOMMUNICABILITY OF HUMAN PERSONS JOHN F. CROSBY, III Franciscan University of Steubenville Steubenville, Ohio I PROPOSE TO explore the idea that persons do not exist as replaceable specimens of or as mere instances of an ideal or type, but rather exist in some sense for their own sakes, each existing as incommunicably his or her own.1 I undertake this study in the conviction that the incommunicability of persons (...) is profoundly characteristic for them precisely as persons, and has a major role to play in any philosophy of the person. And there is an entirely different reason which attracts me to this subject. I think that most of what I have to say here can find acceptance across a broad spectrum of philosophical positions. At a time when thinkers are increasingly suspicious of universally valid truth about man, when many of them think that a vision of man is proper only to some tradition and valid only within that tradition and not beyond it, one can offer a salutary challenge to one's contemporaries by showing a centrally important truth about persons which, as I say, can be accepted by philosophers coming from the most various points of view. Suppose that you were to minimalize the death of someone by saying that at least the human species did not die with him or her, as if the immortality of the species more than compensated for the mortality of this individual : everyone understands that you would thereby radically depersonalize the deceased. Or suppose that you were grieving over the death of someone dear to you, and a friend tried to comfort you with the thought that the 1 My thanks to Josef Seifert, William Frank, Damian Fedoryka, and Katryna Fedoryka for their comments on earlier drafts of this study. The text of this article forms Chapter Two of my book, Essay on Personal Selfhood, which is close to completion. 403 404 JOHN F. CROSBY, III particular excellences of the deceased, which awakened your love, also exist in other human beings who are still living, as if you could continue to love in them what you had loved in the deceased. Again, everyone understands that if you treat people having excellences as if they were replaceable specimens of those excellences, then you lose your grip on them as persons. But why is this? Why is personhood driven out of human beings as soon as their species-membership, or their particular excellences, are thought to predominate in them? What is that incommunicability of each person which is obscured as soon as persons are thought to be only specimens? One commonly thinks that this aspect of personal selfhood has been recognized only in modern thought; in fact it was recognized already by St. Thomas Aquinas. Creatura autem rationalis divinae providentiae substat sicut secundum se gubernata et provisa, non solum propter speciem, ut aliae corruptibiles creaturae : quia individuum quod gubernatur solum propter speciem, non gubernatur propter seipsum; creatura autem rationalis propter seipsam gubernatur, ut ex dictis manifestum est. Sic igitur solae rationales creaturae directionem a Deo ad suos actus accipiunt non solum propter speciem, sed secundum individuum.2 Notice that Aquinas teaches here the metaphysical ultimacy of personal incommunicability; it exists even before God in the sense 2 " Now, a rational creature exists under divine providence as a being governed and provided for in himself, and not simply for the sake of his species, as is the case with other corruptible creatures. For the individual that is governed only for the sake of the species is not governed for its own sake, but the rational creature is governed for his own sake, as is clear from what we have said (ch. 112). And so, only rational creatures receive direction from God in their acts, not only for the species, but for the individual." Summa Contra Gentiles, III, ch. 113 (Bourke translation). By the way, Chapters 111-114 of Book III seem to me to constitute the most " personalist " passage' in the entire corpus of St. Thomas. The modern reader sees to his amazement that St. Thomas here has already made his own the Kantian idea that each person in a sense exists for his... (shrink)

In my paper I discuss some historical and thematic problems interesting in so far as the apologetic aspects of Cartesian philosophy are concerned. My main subject is a popular figure of late sixteenth and early seventeenth century Catholic apology, the Jesuit Leonardus Lessius. Analysing his arguments as presented in the De providentia numinis, we can gain insight into his philosophically-based apologetics. Following this study, I summarize the main Cartesian statements regarding the apologetic import of his philosophy and define the (...) main characteristics of this Cartesian “theological puzzle”. Finally, I argue that in spite of significant differences, Descartes’s post-Aristotelian apology can be taken in parallel with certain tendencies essential to then-contemporary late-Scholastic Aristotelian apology. (shrink)

One of the main purposes of the Expositio in Elementationem theologicam written by Berthold of Moosburg is to show that there is a substantial agreement between Proclus’ thought and that of Paul’s disciple, “Dionysius the Areopagite”. Strongly linked to this view, is the use Berthold does of a fundamental Augustinian distinction, namely the distinction between the ordo providentiae naturalis and the ordo providentiae voluntariae. Berthold understands that these do not oppose each other; in fact, essentially, they agree. The relation between (...) the thought of Proclus and that of Dionysius can be understood on the base of that distinction. In his Elementatio theologica, Proclus writes from the point of view of the ordo providentiae naturalis, whereas Dionysius writes from the point of view of the ordo providentiae voluntariae. That is the reason why a dialogue can be built between Proclus and Dionysius. In order to do this, regarding Proclus’ metaphysical polytheism, Berthold employs as a mediator the Eriugenian teaching about the causae primordiales. This can be proved by paying attention to the way Berthold introduces his Eriugenian quotes, always as a Christian consideration of things according to the ordo providentiae naturalis, which, at the same time, is to be read as a Christian and philosophical interpretation of Dionysius’ thought. (shrink)

The philosophical writings of Seneca the Younger comprise noteworthy thoughts concerning Philosophy of History. This paper aims to prove that these thoughts form above all a coherent system. Developing the criteria as well as the definition of Philosophy of History from writings of Kant and Hegel, the following analysis identifies and systematizes relevant concepts such as reason, teleology, cultural development and providence in the writings of Seneca (mainly Epistulae, De providentia and Naturales Quaestiones). The analysis and the comparison with (...) Kant and Hegel make clear that Seneca draws up Philosophy of History as a systematic meta-discipline. Consequently, this paper shows that systematic Philosophy of History is already rooted in Antiquity and that specifically Seneca can to some extent be regarded as a forerunner of the philosophy of the Modern Period. (shrink)

Tommaso Giannini was a prominent professor at the ferrarese Studium between sixteenth and seventeenth century. Probably influenced by Platonic sympathies nurtured by the Court and partly by the University milieu, in 1587 he published his first work titled De providentia ad sententiam Platonis et Platonicorum liber unus, which was a catalyst for his academic career. A compilative work in essence, the De providentia displays a large amount of sources always tacitly used: Marsilio Ficino, Jacques Charpentier, Giulio Serina, Stefano (...) Tiepolo, Teofilo Zimara, Bessarion, Agostino Steuco and amid the ancients Plotinus, Plutarcus, Sirianus, Proclus, Giamblicus, Apuleius, Calcidius, Ammonius, Psellus. A small place is reserved to Giovanni Pico della Mirandola and precisely to his Disputationes adversus astrologiam divinatricem. The aim of the paper is to provide a supplement of analysis of Giannini’s interest in Pico’s works considering his later writings, each one commonly identified as Disputationes Aristotelicae. (shrink)

This concise anthology of primary sources designed for use in an ancient philosophy survey ranges from the Presocratics to Plato, Aristotle, the Hellenistic philosophers, and the Neoplatonists. The Second Edition features an amplified selection of Presocratic fragments in newly revised translations by Richard D. McKirahan. Also included is an expansion of the Hellenistic unit, featuring new selections from Lucretius and Sextus Empiricus as well as a new translation, by Peter J. Anderson, of most of Seneca's _De Providentia_. The selections from (...) Plotinus have also been expanded. (shrink)

This paper presents two proposals to improve the text of an important passage in Manilius’ Astronomica, 1.456–68, in which the poet explains natura's rationale for arranging the stars in such a way as to create only a partial, rather than a full, representation of the constellation figures. The text of line 464 is repunctuated in order to give proper emphasis to natura's parsimonious disposition of the stars. Scholars have noted that the sentence atque ignibus ignes | respondent in 466–7 is (...) not consistent with the poet's account of how the constellation figures were delineated nor with what an observer sees in the heavens. The conjecture insignibus (neuter plural), for the transmitted atque ignibus in line 466, is offered to indicate that it is the distinctive features (insignia) of the figures to which specific stars correspond and by means of which the figures are described. Attention is also drawn to a striking paronomasia in 466–7, designat … insignibus ignes, which creates a meaningful phonetic constellation of celestial fire (ignis), sign (signum) and insigne (distinctive feature) and thus provides evidence, on the linguistic level, of natura's providentia. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"ALL EXISTING IS THE ACTION OF GOD": THE PHILOSOPHICAL THEOLOGY OF DAVID BRAINE DAVID BRADSHAW University ofTexas at Austin Austin, Texas Thou lovest all the things that are, and abhorrest nothing which thou hast made: for never wouldest thou have made any thing, if thou hadst hated il And how could any thing have endured, if it had not been thy will? or been preserved, if not called by (...) thee? But thou sparest all: for they are thine, 0 Lord, thou lover of souls. Wisdom 11:24-26 He is not far from every one of us; for in Him we live, and move, and have our being. Acts 17:27-28 I T HAS long been traditional to regard God as upholding all things in existence. This belief is known as the doctrine of continuous creation; it is a doctrine widely shared by Jews, Christians, and Moslems, and was first clearly articulated by St. Augustine.1 The phrase "continuous creation" can be misleading, for there is more to the doctrine than simply the extension of God's creative act through time. If that were all that is at stake, we would not need to revise our ordinary notion of the creator as craftsman or artist; we might think of God as like a painter who 1 Augustine, De Genesi ad Litteram iv.12. The history of the development of this doctrine has yet to be written, but important sources include Timaeus 4lab; Philo of Alexandria, De Providentia i.7; Colossians 1:17, Hebrews 1:3; John of Damascus, De Fide Orthodoxa i.3; Aquinas, Summa theologiae I, q. 104, a. 1. See also David Winston, Philo of Alexandria (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), 14-17; G. L. Prestige, God in Patristic Thought (London: S.P.C.K., 1964), 31-36; Richard Sorabji, Time, Creation,-and the Continuum (Ithaca: Cornell, 1983), 303-304. 379 380 DAVID BRADSHAW never stops adding new scenes, or a writer continually elaborating his story. That picture will not do. Ifthe painter were to cease painting, what he has made up to that point would remain in existence, whereas it is precisely the ability to stand on its own that the doctrine of continuous creation seeks to deny of what is made. Nor does anything in the relation of artisan to artifact properly convey the special intimacy and presence that the act of continuous creation is supposed to establish between God and creatures. A painting or a story does not "live and move and have its being" in the one who fashions it-nor would even a living and thinking creature, if the manner of its making were solely that of an artisan. These shortcomings raise the question of whether we should seek to replace the image of artisan and artifact with one that is more dynamic. We might think of God as like a singer and of what is made as His song, or of God as like a dancer and of what is made as His dance. By envisioning the act of creation as a "doing" rather than a "making," analogies of this type more adequately indicate the continuing ontological dependence ofcreation on Creator. They also draw our attention to a mode of presence radically different from that of one body to another, the presence of an agent "within" his own actions. They may thus bring us closer to what St. Paul presumably has in mind in the passage quoted from Acts. On the other hand, they have faults of their own, for they are hard to reconcile with creaturely freedom and the reality of secondary causation. How could any kind of "doing" act contrary to the will of its doer? Indeed, how could it act at all? Actions are not causal agents; a song does not act in its own right, but is at best an instrument of the one who sings it. So it would seem that, taken to their logical conclusion, analogies such as that of the singer and his song lead to the denial of both creatures' freedom and their causal efficacy. There have been thinkers in each of the religious traditions mentioned who have been willing to accept these... (shrink)

In libro suo cui titulus Discursus de metaphysica Leibnitius quaestionem movet, quomodo homo in mundum harmonia gaudentem praestabilita agere debeat eiusque bonitatem, quo melius se explicet, adiuvare. Responsio ab eo allata vero discrepantiam quandam prae se fert ad docendum valde utilem. Una ex parte enim Leibnitius docet dari ordinem naturalem a Providentia firme constitutum, altera ex parte tamen suae aetatis doctrinam profitetur, scil. mundum agentibus humanis, ut technologiae cultoribus, infinitas praebere possibilitates. Aliorum Leibnitii textuum perscrutatio necnon eorum cum Aristotele, (...) S. Thoma, I. Kant comparatio revelat, quam acriter Leibnitii in mente veneratio antiquae et a maioribus traditae rationis philosophiam naturalem colendi, quae est scientia pure speculativa, pugnat cum ipsius dedicatione ad modernam notionem naturae dominationis, quod propositum e contra est valde pragmaticum ac transformativum.In the Discourse on Metaphysics Leibniz addresses how human beings ought to intervene in a preharmonized world and contribute to the unfolding of its goodness. His view exhibits an instructive tension between belief in a providentially fixed natural order, on the one hand, and, on the other, a characteristically early modern belief in a world of infinite possibilities for human actors, that is, developers of technology. Other texts in Leibniz, as well as comparison with Aristotle, Aquinas, and Kant, helps to reveal the extent to which Leibniz is torn between venerating the ancient tradition of natural philosophy, a purely “contemplative” discipline, and embracing the modern project of mastery of nature, a pragmatic and transformative enterprise. (shrink)

Das Verhältnis des Seneca philosophus zum Seneca tragicus ist für die Interpretation von Senecas Tragödien noch immer entscheidend. Die Autorin widmet sich dem Problem im Bereich der Theologie. Als zentrale theologische Problemfelder untersucht sie in Senecas philosophischen Schriften und Tragödien sein Verständnis von providentia und damit die Theodizeefrage sowie sein Verständnis des fatum und damit die Willensfreiheit. Anders als die bisherigen Untersuchungen, deren Interesse vorrangig den Dramen galt und die die philosophischen Schriften nur am Rande berücksichtigten, bildet in dieser (...) Studie die Theologie der philosophischen Schriften den Ausgangspunkt, um deren Problemstellungen auch für eine Deutung der Dramen fruchtbar zu machen. Im Gegensatz zu den Forschungspositionen, die Senecas Dramen entweder als philosophische Lehrstücke oder als Negation der stoischen Philosophie verstehen, erhellt die von der Autorin gewählte Vorgehensweise Senecas Bezugnahme auf philosophische Fragestellungen innerhalb der Dramen. In ihnen setzt sich Seneca im Gedankenexperiment mit Problemen und Aporien auseinander, die auch im philosophischen Diskurs der Stoa nicht zufriedenstellend aufzulösen sind. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS 369 On Divine Foreknowledge. (Part IV of the Concordia). By Lms DE MOLINA. Trans. Alfred J. Freddoso. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1988. Pp. xii +286. $34.95. The contents of the sixteenth century Jesuit theologian Luis de Molina's famous work are specified in its title: Liberi arbitrii cum gratiae donis, divina praescientia, providentia, praedestinatione et reprobatione concordia-" The Agreement of Free Choice with the Gifts of Grace, (...) Divine Foreknowledge, Providence, Predestination, and Reprobation." Part IV, which particularly concerns the Divine Fore· knowledge, is divided into seven " Disputations," 47-53 inclusive. These deal with contingency, the presence of all things to God in eternity, God's knowledge of future contingents (including the role of the Divine Ideas), and especially the reconciliation of freedom and contingency with absolutely certain Divine Foreknowledge and Predeterminations. It is Part IV, especially Disputation 52, which contains Molina's well known teaching about the scientia media, God's "middle knowledge," i.e., eternally between the natural knowledge He has of all things possible and the free or post-volitional (according to our way of conceiving it) knowledge He has of all things actual. More precisely, by middle knowledge God knows, before any exercise of His will, what a created free agent would do in various circumstances, both those which actually will obtain and those which, although possible, will never in fact exist. The objects of such knowledge are situated between what is merely possible and what will simply he at some moment of time. They are possible with a certain hypothetical (ex hypothesi) dependence on both Divine and human free causation. Thus, in comprehending them as they are, God's absolutely necessary and prior knowledge would seem in some way dependent upon what is contingent and even created. Molina's doctrine attempts to overcome the paradox in this. A competent admirer of Molina's position, University of Notre Dame Professor Freddoso is not just a master of the Jesuit's baroque Latin, with its sesquipedalian sentences bristling with spiny technical terms. He also shows himself to be a fine logician (earlier he translated portions of Ockham's Summa Logicae), with an excellent understanding of scholastic theology (in areas such as the Trinity, Christology, and the Eucharist), metaphysics, epistemology, and philosophy of human nature. To make the translated work even more accessible, he has in his introduction briefly treated prior parts of the Concordia as preparing the stage for Part IV, has related Molina's concerns to those of present day philosophers of religion, and has made clear the agreement as well 370 BOOK REVIEWS as the main difference between Molina and his " Banezian " opponents, whose position he summarizes from the 20th century theologian-philosopher, Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. In addition, he has graced the translation with helpful footnotes. At times these identify persons mentioned by Molina, some of whom (e.g. Richard of Middleton, William Durandus, Gregory of Rimini, or Didacus de Deza [Hispalensis]) would be less than household names today for a non·medievalist. At other times, Freddoso's notes clearly and succinctly explain items of Catholic doctrine which Molina presupposes or to which he refers. Still again, they reproduce important texts of St. Thomas connected with points Molina is making. And something which I welcomed, Freddoso uses his notes frequently to recall and clarify premises of earlier arguments to which Molina later simply alludes without restatement. The translation itself is from the modern critical edition of the Concordia by Johannes Rabeneck, S.J. (Oniae et Matriti, 1953), which I would like to have seen reproduced on facing pages. Freddoso's version is accurate to the point of being literal. Despite that, however, it is amazingly readable. He does on occasion have difficulty with terms like complexio (which he specially notes on page 10) and ratio: whether to understand them subjectively or objectively-but then, doesn't everyone have the same problem? Again, while one might wonder about sentences as long as nineteen lines (e.g. page 178), they are in fact the legacy of Molina himself (cf. Disp. 52, n. 19, Rabeneck, p. 346, where the Latin runs 14 lines). Freddoso speaks of Molina's " lumbering " prose. But at the same... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Volcanus: Recherches comparatistes sur les origines du culte de VulcainJ. LinderskiGérard Capdeville. Volcanus: Recherches comparatistes sur les origines du culte de Vulcain. Rome: Ecole Française de Rome, Palais Farnèse, 1995. viii 1 521 pp. Cloth, no price stated. (Bibliothèque des Ecoles Françaises d’Athènes et de Rome, fasc. 288)In the last twenty years the French School has published every two years one book on Roman religion: monographs dealing with (...) Fortuna, Mercurius, Ops, Penates, Providentia Deorum, Fratres Arvales, l’Association Dionysiaque (cf. JRS 78 [1988] 207–8), the Bacchanalia, religious architecture (Aurea templa), La vie religieuse des matrones, Le délit religieux (cf. CP 79 [1984] 174–77). Now we have a book about Volcanus. First let us remark on what this book is not: it is not a study of the cult of Volcanus, an encyclopedia that would systematically list and discuss all the literary, iconographic, and epigraphical evidence in Rome, Italy, and the provinces. It would be very pleasing to have such a book; perhaps pedestrian, but useful. For information we still have to turn to Georg Wissowa, to his ageless Religion und Kultus der Römer (2d ed. Munich 1912, 229–32); also informative is W. Eisenhut, “Volcanus,” RE Suppl. 14 (1974) 948–62. A rather balanced account of the origines appears in G. Camassa, “Sull’origine [End Page 644] e le funzioni del culto di Volcanus a Roma,” RSI 96 (1984) 811–54. Capdeville’s book we have for speculations, a paradise for those eager to delve into murky origins, and those who are transposed by the dazzling and uncertain art of comparativistic pleading. If bibliography (fifty-one pages, 425–75) stands for learning, it is a learned monograph; it ranges from Rome through Etruria to Crete and Cyprus. Surprisingly we find no Hittites or Turks (the relevance of the latter the reader will see revealed at the end of this piece).The book opens with an evocation of Georges Dumézil. Where do his manes lead the author? They lead to the fish. The monograph “est né... d’une interrogation sur les pisciculi des Volcanalia” (1), a subject which intrigued Dumézil himself (REL 36 [1959] 121–30). At the feast of Volcanalia on 23 August (see the references in A. Degrassi, Fasti anni Numani et Iuliani (5 Inscr. It. XIII.2 [Rome 1963] 500–502), populus pro se in ignem animalia mittit (Varr. LL 6.20). On 7 June (cf. Degrassi 466) the Ludi Piscatorii were celebrated a praetore urbano pro piscatoribus Tiberinis, quorum quaestus non in macellum pervenit, sed fere in aream Volkani, quod id genus pisciculorum vivorum datur ei deo pro animis humanis (Festus 274–76 L); but at the Ludi Piscatorii the offering was not pro animis but rather pro quaestu piscantium (Festus 232 L); cf. J. Le Gall, Recherches sur le culte du Tibre (Paris 1953) 48–50; J. Linderski, Ktema 17 ([1992] 1996) 58. Agni, the Indian god of fire, hated water and fish; this explains the Roman ritual (so Dumézil). Most scholars tacitly assume that pisciculi vivi were offered also on the Volcanalia, but Varro speaks generally of animalia: if he wanted to say pisces he would have said so. Volcanus was a god of destructive fire (so Wissowa, Dumézil, and many other scholars); it makes sense that to propitiate him not only fish, a symbol of water, were burnt, but also other animals (perhaps as a substitute offering; cf., on that sort of sacrifices, G. Capdeville, MEFRA 83 [1971] 283–323). In the context of incendia arcenda an inscription of the Domitianic time (ILS 4914) records an offering on the Volcanalia of vitulus robeus and verres r(obeus). This calls to mind the sacrifice of the rutilae canes to protect the crops from the burning sun (Festus 358 L).Of all of this Capdeville, surprisingly, does not write at all: after their debut on page 1 the pisciculi and the Volcanalia feebly reappear at the very end of the book (420–23), only to be disregarded. Capdeville claims that Volcanus was not at all, and never, a god of “feu destructeur.” But Dumézil too... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS At the Origins of Modern Atheism. By MICHAEL J. BucKLEY, S.J. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1987. Pp. viii+ 445. Writing ostensibly a history of the philosophical origins of 18th century atheism in 17th century theism, Michael Buckley, S.J., has contributed a learned, subtle, and provocative hook whose length is significantly increased and whose focus is considerably enlarged by a running commentary about the metatheory (...) (Richard McKeon's philosophical semantics) that structures his reading of the chosen theists and atheists. Buckley provides the best summary of his own historical conclusion: "... theology generated apologetic philosophy and philosophy generated Universal Mechanics, and these in turn co-opted theology to become the foundations of theistic assertions... [But] when the contradictions between Cartesian and Newtonian mechanics were further negated... god became a deus otiosus" [pp. 358-359]. This conclusion rests on a philosophical principle whose elements are taken from Plato's Seventh Epistle: " The name, the definition, and the instance for the atheistic negations are all set by the current theism " [p. 15]. In turn, this principle is justified by a cluster of meta-theses that are not easily summarized, although one stands above the rest: " Much more may he involved in such a process of ideas [from 17th century theism to 18th century atheism] than their· own internal necessity, hut internal necessity remains and governs inherently " [p. 334]. The latter meta-thesis asserts that there is a dialectic of ideas and it is from this point of view that Buckley reads the conceptual history of modern atheism. Dialectical necessity is a bugbear for many contemporary philosophers, hut Buckley argues, convincingly I think, that some kind of conceptual necessity links theism and atheism. Atheism is, essentially, the negation of a particular form of theism. In Hegelian terms, atheism is a determinate negation which draws all of its conceptual content from what it negates. Buckley, however, puts an even greater Hegelian spin on the same point. If the theism carries within itself a contradiction, it negates itself and, thereby, dialectically generates its contradiction-atheism [cf. p. 17]. " Modern atheism took not only its meaning hut its existence from the self-alienation of religion " [p. 359]. A theism that believes in the existence of an intelligent, personal God, Who creates and orders the universe, but that attempts a rational 144 BOOK REVIEWS 145 justification of this belief apart from the religious experience that alone can embody such a faith contains exactly the kind of inner contradiction that generates the negation of itself. Buckley focuses on the poignant contradiction of a Christian theology abandoning " the religious figure of Jesus as the principal evidence for the reality of God" [p. 41] in favor of some philosophy (whether that of Descartes, Malebranche, or Newton) which provides a different and allegedly more certain kind of evidence for God's existence. This theology, or more precisely the theistic philosophies it spawned, are the sources of modern atheism because, if Descartes and Newton are consistently combined, philosophy can do quite well without God. Laplace's famous reply to Napoleon, although it was not originally an atheistic slogan, captures what Diderot and d'Holbach thought: God is an unnecessary hypothesis in a truly universal mechanics which needs to presuppose only matter and motion. The historical story, of course, is more complicated than this skeleton dialectic can suggest. Buckley richly details the story but I shall rehearse only its opening chapter. Buckley begins with the Jesuit theologian, Leonard Lays (1554-1623), usually known under his Latin name, Lessius, whose De providentia numinis et anima immortalitate (1613) set the pattern for subsequent Catholic theology. Lessius, who was convinced that atheism by eliminating the eternal judge destroys morals and sound politics, revived Stoic arguments, numerous variations on a theme, which show that the universe is everywhere imprinted with a divine design. Lessius's intent, although he referred only to ancient philosophers, was not to replay the classical battle between the Stoics and the Epicureans but to combat the atheism, silent and disguised in contemporary Europe, that Lessius thought to be the inevitable outcome of the wars of religion and theological fights. Lessius, however, paid scant attention to his own insight... (shrink)

Timeless wisdom on death and dying from the celebrated Stoic philosopher Seneca "It takes an entire lifetime to learn how to die," wrote the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca. He counseled readers to "study death always," and took his own advice, returning to the subject again and again in all his writings, yet he never treated it in a complete work. How to Die gathers in one volume, for the first time, Seneca's remarkable meditations on death and dying. Edited and translated (...) by James S. Romm, How to Die reveals a provocative thinker and dazzling writer who speaks with a startling frankness about the need to accept death or even, under certain conditions, to seek it out. Seneca believed that life is only a journey toward death and that one must rehearse for death throughout life. Here, he tells us how to practice for death, how to die well, and how to understand the role of a good death in a good life. He stresses the universality of death, its importance as life's final rite of passage, and its ability to liberate us from pain, slavery, or political oppression. Featuring beautifully rendered new translations, How to Die also includes an enlightening introduction, notes, the original Latin texts, and an epilogue presenting Tacitus's description of Seneca's grim suicide. (shrink)