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We understand Aristotle’s soul–body hylomorphism better if we first understand the critical discussions of his predecessors which occupy most of the first book of his De Anima. Given that he regards his view as preferable to all earlier approaches, he must also think that his alternative, hylomorphism, avoids the pitfalls he identifies in those positions. In some cases, it is easy to see why he might think hylomorphism is defensible where they are not: for instance, he regards the reductively materialistic views of the earliest natural philosophers as explanatorily impoverished. In other cases, however, this is far from clear. Aristotle highlights for special consideration the view that the soul is a harmonia (attunement) of the body, a view which, as was noted in antiquity, bears more than a passing resemblance to his own hylomorphism. It proves both difficult and instructive to determine, then, how he supposes hylomorphism avoids the problems he identifies in the doctrine of the soul as a harmonia. The core difference, it emerges, turns on Aristotle’s thoroughgoing teleology: the soul, he thinks, unlike a harmonia, has an intrinsic good toward which the body is orchestrated.
Aristotle maintains that defining nous requires first defining its activity, which requires first having considered its objects, intelligible beings. This chapter is about the nature of these objects: what about them makes them intelligible? My principal proposals will be that what makes them intelligible is that they are separate or unmixed, and that because, insofar as they are intelligible, they are, in their essence, activity. I am not unaware that this makes it sound as though Aristotle takes intelligibility to consist in some kind of nous. But he himself virtually says as much, when he claims that nous is the form of its objects (lit. εἶδος εἰδῶν); besides it is a result he is committed to by the doctrines that nous is intelligible and that there is something that intelligible objects all are in common; for the alternative, as he himself says, is to suppose that nous “will have something mixed-in, which makes it intelligible just like the rest.” The challenge, then, is not to steer clear of this result, but to make sense of it. My proposal will be that the key lies in realizing that and why Aristotle thinks intelligibility is a creature of nous.
According to Aristotle, the three main varieties of soul – nutritive, perceptual, and rational – are hierarchically ordered. I develop and defend an interpretation of the soul’s unity that centers on Aristotle’s attempt to explain this hierarchy’s organizing cause. Aristotle draws an analogy between this series of souls and the series of figures. I first elucidate the fundamental feature both series share: each series’ prior members are present in capacity in its posterior members. I do so by examining several other cases – mathematical, biological, and physical – where Aristotle appeals to presence in capacity. I then argue that an organism’s living body is continuous by nature. That is, an organism’s soul is the principle, cause, and end of a single, articulate activity of living and each of an organism’s vital bodily movements are aspects or partial manifestations of this unitary, natural activity. This account of natural continuity is, I contend, the key to understanding what it is for one soul to be present in capacity in another. And this account of presence in capacity is, I contend, the key to understanding what it is for a soul that comprises parts to be a unity.
The book’s concluding chapter summarizes its content and contextualizes the ideas in a broader historical and cultural perspective. It is the story about the transformation of the ways in which the increasingly Christianized elites of the late antique Mediterranean experienced and conceptualized linguistic differences. Confessional and linguistic identities of the time overlapped in ways that produced an astonishing variety of dynamic combinations, hybrid loyalties, and local peculiarities. The chapter raises the question of what we do with language when we speak and how references to a linguistic code through which communication happens can be no less informative than the content of communication itself. It problematizes the concept of “other languages” and different ways in which different cultures, including early Christianity, imagine their principal alloglottic Other. We introduce the concept of “communities of linguistic sensitivities” – a group that share similar language-related socio-cultural stereotypes and subscribe to approximately the same views and ideas about linguistic history and linguistic diversity. The history of Christianity in Late Antiquity could be described in terms of the formation of several such related communities around the Mediterranean – communities that developed dynamically, constantly readjusted, and mutually influenced each other.
The logic of the Concept has three parts. The first (“The subjective concept”) examines (apparently following the divisions of traditional logic) the concept as-it-is, the types of judgement and the reasoning (“syllogism”) constructed from judgements; but the notions of judgement and syllogistic reasoning are as deeply transformed as that of the concept itself. Far from any formal approach, how thought informs reality should be examined. The second part (“The object”) examines how this conceptual shaping of the real happens. It occurs at three levels, seemingly corresponding to the great divisions of classical science: mechanism, chemism, teleology. The third part concerns “the idea”, a notion that is completely transformed, being defined as “the absolute unity of the [subjective] concept and objectivity” (Encyclopedia §213). Hegel describes how subjectivity and objectivity, thought and reality, interfere, to the extent that it becomes impossible to separate them, except at the cost of a great abstraction, that of the “understanding”. Hegel calls this interpenetration of thought and being the “absolute idea”, thus redefining the terms in which philosophy had hitherto been thought.
This paper explores the unity of the Hadiqat al-haqiqeh, a medieval mystical didactic work composed by the twelfth-century Persian poet Sanāʾi. It provides one possible reading from the text by following the link between some of the major themes discussed in its chapters. By doing so, the paper first challenges the common view of the work as a fragmentary, non-narrative text, and second it draws attention to the synthesis of political ethics and Sufi didacticism as a possible starting point in the interpretation of the work. It also highlights the possibility—and necessity—of further scholarly inquiry into the Hadiqeh, regardless of issues caused by its complex textual history.
A precise temporal (and sometimes topographical) scheme is found behind Second Corinthians at three levels: (i) 1–7 (past: Ephesus → Macedonia), 8–9 (present: Macedonia), 10–13 (future: Macedonia → Corinth); (ii) 2.12–7.16 (Troas (2.12–13) → the Hellespont (2.14–7.4) → Macedonia (7.5–16)); (iii) 2.14–7.4. For (i)-(ii), see 1 Thess 1–3 and 2.17–3.10. For (iii), I detail this temporal structure: (a) 3.1–18 → 4.1–6; (b) 4.7–5.10 → 5.11–13; (c) 5.14–6.10 → 6.11–7.4, viz. (a) Paul's initial call and (b) his life in the present and future → his general missionary practice, including to ‘you’, and (c) his now directly addressing ‘you’ with strong paraenesis.
This chapter traces the formation of the first imperial polities on Chinese soil — the Qin and Han dynasties. It starts with the exploration of how the disintegration of the Zhou dynasty (c.1046–255 BCE) triggered the quest for political unity of “All-under-Heaven” as the only means of stemming the ongoing bloodshed and turmoil. This common quest legitimated the unified empire with universalistic pretensions generations before the real unification occurred (in 221 BCE). The first imperial polity, Qin, was highly centralized and committed to territorial expansion. It turned out, however, that this model was unsustainable in the long term. The subsequent Han dynasty experimented with various degrees of expansion and retrenchment, in the process of which a new modus vivendi was reached: the universal superiority of China’s emperor had to be maintained primarily on a symbolic level, whereas in practice, the “inner” and “outer” realm became fully delineated.
Variety was the hallmark of miscellanism, and Clement draws attention to his participation in this miscellanistic aesthetic in programmatic passages on the literary form of his work. He privileges the vocabulary of poikilia,which not only captured the miscellanistic aesthetic of variety but was also a key term in reflection on the problems and possibilities of variety in aesthetic, ethical, theological and pedagogical spheres. Plato and Philo had also given it prominence in their own engagement with ethical and theological problems of variety. Clement addresses the challenge of variety in shaping his project: his three works, Protrepticus, Paedagogus and Stromateis,organise a pattern of Christian formation that cultivates ethical simplicity with a view ultimately to discerning God’s poikilic wisdom and even in the poikilia of Clement’s own text. Whereas previous studies of Clement have wrestled with the philosophical problem of the ‘many and the one’, this chapter shows that that problem also had a significant literary, aesthetic and ethical dimension, better captured by the terminology of poikilia.
In this chapter I discuss the paradigmatic function which music, as a theoretical science (‘harmonics’), can have in relation to practical philosophy, in particular ethics, for the Platonists of Late Antiquity, going from Iamblichus (end of the 3rd century) and Proclus to Damascius (mid 6th century). Inspired by some passages in Plato’s Republic, in Nicomachus of Gerasa and in Ptolemy’s Harmonics, these Platonists also introduced a hierarchy of types of music and a hierarchy of types of virtue. I will attempt to show the relation between these two hierarchies, starting with the ‘ethical’ and ‘political’ levels of virtue, showing how harmonics provides conceptual paradigms for the description of these virtues, and then moving up to the higher levels of virtue, the ‘purificatory’ and ‘theoretical’ virtues, asking how music, as harmonics, might relate to the higher virtues.
Lauded in both the synagogue and the academy, Moses Maimonides remains the most influential philosopher to have emerged out of the Jewish tradition. Yet his radical conception of God’s unity and incorporeality informs a thoroughgoing rationalist reinterpretation of the language of Scripture that might be thought to denude God of his personal qualities. Framed around the first 5 of Maimonides' 13 principles of faith, we examine in this chapter Maimonides' views on God's unity and incorporeality, and the theory of divine attributes at the root of his radical biblical hermeneutic, explaining how, despite some pragmatic concessions to human frailty, Maimonides presents a biblical God who might easily be mistaken (though mistake it may not be) for the more rarefied and abstract God of Aristotle. In conclusion, we discuss, how in the face of such a view, Maimonides can nonetheless maintain a commitment to religious worship.
Chapter 4 scrutinises the notion of unity as an essential characteristic of the EU legal order and the internal market, and the aims of the multilateral agreements to achieve ‘homogeneity’ in the expanded internal market. The Chapter provides an examination of the notions of ‘unity’ and ‘homogeneity’ and the nature of the homogeneity provision in the acquis-exporting agreements. The Chapter seeks to establish the level of legislative commonality – as opposed to flexibility and differentiation – necessary in the extended internal market in order to be able to consider the third country market participants equal to their EU counterparts.
The book examines the twofold 'boundaries' of the concept of the European Union's internal market – the geographical and the substantive – through the prism of expanding the internal market to third countries without enlarging the Union. The book offers a comprehensive analysis of the conditions under which the internal market can effectively be extended to third countries by exporting EU acquis via international agreements without sacrificing its defining characteristics. Theoretical rather than empirical in approach, the book scrutinises and meticulously questions the required level of uniformity within flexible integration relating to the substantive scope of the internal market, the role of foundational principles in the European Union's market edifice, and the institutional framework necessary for granting third country actors full participation in the internal market while safeguarding the autonomy of the Union's legal order.
Heraclitus’s doctrine of a cosmogonic unity of opposites held together in harmoniē is the topic of “Heraclitus and the Quantum.” Like Anaximander, Heraclitus posits a self-organizing universe in which objects and agents interact to form relational wholes. It is argued that Heraclitus’s ideas anticipate physicist Niels Bohr’s atomic theory of complementarity and the systems thinking of early cyberneticists. Extended from a description of the cosmos to a prescription for living, Heraclitean harmoniē, it is argued, is tantamount to sustainability, and provides a profounder, more durable alternative to some modern prescriptions circulating under the same conceptual umbrella.
Both violence and non-violence are important themes in the Bahá'í Faith, but their relationship is not simple. The Bahá'í sacred writings see violence in the world – not just against Bahá'ís, but physical and structural violence against everyone – as being a consequence of the immature state of human civilization. The Baha'i community itself has been nonviolent since its founding by Baha'u'llah in the mid nineteenth century and has developed various strategies for responding to persecution nonviolently. This Element explores how their scriptures provide a blueprint for building a new, more mature, culture and civilization on this planet where violence will be rare and nonviolence prevalent.
In the metalepsis situated at the centre of the text, the God of Love disorients the reader with the revelation that the romance that the latter was sure of having read has not yet been written and that it will be the work of two authors of which the first is in danger of dying and the second has not yet been born. In the verses in question, which take their inspiration not only from ‘Parisian philosophy’ but also from the ‘legalists’ of Orléans and the teachings of Joachim of Fiore (by means of Gerard de Borgo San Donnino), an authorial hypostasis takes place (or a supposition according to Scholastic terminology), which is expressed through the triad ‘Guillaume de Lorris’ – ‘God of Love’ – ‘Jean Chopinel’, and which provides the romance’s underlying unity, its allegorical mysteries, and its modalities of enunciation.
This chapter highlights the challenges of understanding the generic make-up of the “Confessions” by looking at issues like “the unity” of the “Confessions” and various suggestions and difficulties involved in describing its structure and its genre. The section on structure focuses mostly on various ways of categorizing the units of content within the work, including a concise overview of a variety of proposals that have been made in this regard. The section on genre highlights the generic labels that are most frequently attached to the work (like autobiography, exegesis, protreptic, or apologetic), suggests some others, and also points toward the innovative fusion of antecedent generic conventions that constitutes the “Confessions.”
Bushmen’ or ‘San’ are not one ethnic group. They are several, speaking a diversity of languages, having many different settlement patterns and kinship systems, and even possessing a variety of economic practices. Yet we think of them as a unity. This is not as strange as it may seem, for all such groups share a common origin as an original hunting-and-gathering population (or populations) of southern Africa. Diversity includes biological difference, linguistic affiliation and so on. Even what we call them reflects a kind of diversity. Many experts, especially in archaeology, call them ‘San’, a term derived from the word saan or sān (common gender plural) in Khoekhoe dialects. It occurs in no Bushman or San language, whereas other experts prefer to use Bushmen or Basarwa, and a few have used Kua or even N/uakhoe (literally, ‘red people’). Kua is the preferred generic term in a few languages, and Red People is a fairly common self-description in some. Etymologically though, each of these terms is problematic. This introductory chapter will explore these issues and look forward to general themes in the book.
Chapter 2 establishes that Gregory considers anthropology within the theological framework of his doctrine of God who is Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and in particular the Son, who is the ‘identical Image’. Through examining how Gregory speaks about Christ as the Image of God, we discover significant aspects of his thought about the human person as an image of God: Christ is a divine, living and dynamic Image, which differentiates Christ from motionless images. Gregory goes to great lengths to argue that Christ is unified, which has significant implications on the way in which Gregory considers the physicality of the image of God. Christ’s kenosis makes possible the theosis of the human image of God. Finally, Christ battles with and defeats the devil, restoring the potential divinity of the image and securing the human person’s victory over the devil.
In the first part of Chapter 8, we push forward to the very heart of speculative metaphysics, its account of God and the alleged proofs of God’s existence. We will reconstruct Kant’s derivation of the ‘transcendental ideal,’ that is, the idea of an ens realissimum, and argue that there is only one (abductive) argument for God’s existence that Kant regards as springing from ‘universal human reason.’ In the second part of the chapter, we return to Kant’s discussion of the metaphysical presuppositions of science in the Appendix to the Transcendental Dialectic, where Kant explains the tendency to make constitutive use of transcendental ideas and principles in scientific investigations.