Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy Volume 10 9780192871244, 0192871242

Table of contents :
Cover
Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy
Copyright
Contents
“Lewd, Feeble, and Frail”: Humility Formulae, Medieval Women, and Authority
1. Medieval Humility Topoi as Rhetorical Trope
2. Humility as Contemplative Virtue
3. Re-reading Medieval Women’s Use of Humility Formulae
4. Conclusion
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Secondary Sources
Al-Fārābī’s Commentary on the Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics in Todros Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology (Introduction, Edition of the Text, and Annotated Translation)
1. Introduction to the Text
a. Introduction
b. The Section on Dialectic in Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology
c. Al-Fārābī’s Commentary on the Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics
d. Presentation and Order of the Fragments
2. Edition of the Text
3. Annotated Translation
[al-Fārābī’s Introduction to Topics VIII]
Commentary on Topics VIII 1
Commentary on Topics VIII 2
Commentary on Topics VIII 3
Commentary on Topics VIII 4
Appendix: Glossary of Technical Terms (Hebrew–English)
Bibliography
1. Manuscripts
2. Primary Texts
3. Secondary Literature
Aquinas, Analogy and the Trinity
1. Introduction
2. The Analogy of Unity
a. Analogical Naming
b. The Analogy of Being
c. The Analogy of Unity
3. Analogy in the Trinity Claims
a. Safeguarding Simplicity
b. Accounting for Real Distinction
4. Conclusion
Bibliography
Super-Causes, Super-Grounds, and the Flow of Powers: Three Medieval Views on Natural Kinds and Kind-Specific Powers
1. Introduction
2. Thomas Aquinas on the Relation between the Essence of the Soul and Its Powers
a. Aquinas’s Same Category Argument
b. The Threefold Causal Relation between the Essence of the Soul and Its Powers
c. The Efficient-Causal Relation
d. The Material-Causal Relation
3. Duns Scotus’s Objection
4. Thomas of Sutton on the Soul’s Grounding of Its Powers
5. Concluding Remarks: From Super-Causes to Super-Grounds
Bibliography
Primary Sources
Secondary Sources
Three Medieval Aristotelians on Numerical Identity and Time
1. Introduction
2. Aristotle
3. Indiscernibility of Identicals
4. Rejecting the Indiscernibility of Identicals
a. Relationism
b. Adverbialism
c. Exdurantism
d. Perdurantism
e. Subdurantism
5. Further Considerations
a. Other Counterexamples to the Indiscernibility of Identicals
b. No Arguments Require the Indiscernibility of Identicals
c. Arguments from Eternalism to the Indiscernibility of Identicals
d. Arguments from Presentism to the Indiscernibility of Identicals
6. Conclusion
Bibliography
Multiple Generality in Scholastic Logic
1. Plural and Singular Genitives
a. Contradictory Pair I: AU and OP
b. Contradictory Pair II: IU and EP
c. Contradictory Pair III: AP and OU
d. Contradictory Pair IV: IP and EU
2. Multiple Quantification
a. Contradictory Pair I: AA and OI
b. Contradictory Pair II: IA and EI
c. Contradictory Pair III: AI and OA
d. Contradictory Pair IV: II and EA
3. What Does All This Tell Us About Buridan’s Logic?
Bibliography
A Review of David Piché, Épistémologie et psychologie de la foi dans la pensée scolastique (1250–1350)
1. The Core Features of the Book
2. Outline of the Book
3. Discussion
a. The Notion of Certainty
b. Medieval Doxastic Voluntarism
c. The Innovative Character of the Book in Terms of Corpus and Theses
4. Conclusion
Bibliography
A Dance with the Rebel Angels: Tobias Hoffmann’s View on the Free Will Debate
Bibliography
Briefly Noted
Notes for Contributors
Index of Names

Citation preview

Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy Volume 10

ADVISORY BOARD Peter Adamson, Ludwig-Maximilians University, Munich Deborah Black, University of Toronto Peter King, University of Toronto Henrik Lagerlund, Stockholm University John Marenbon, Trinity College, Cambridge Calvin Normore, UCLA Dominik Perler, Humboldt University, Berlin Eleonore Stump, St. Louis University Editorial Assistant Dawn Jacob, University of Colorado

Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy Volume 10 Edited by

ROBERT PASNAU

Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP, United Kingdom Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries © the several contibutors 2022 The moral rights of the authors have been asserted First Edition published in 2022 Impression: 1 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Control Number: 2022945889 ISBN 978–0–19–287124–4 DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192871244.001.0001 Printed and bound in the UK by TJ Books Limited Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials contained in any third party website referenced in this work.

Contents Articles “Lewd, Feeble, and Frail”: Humility Formulae, Medieval Women, and Authority Christina Van Dyke Al-Fārābī’s Commentary on the Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics in Todros Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology

(Introduction, Edition of the Text, and Annotated Translation) Daniel Davies and Alexander Lamprakis Aquinas, Analogy and the Trinity Reginald Mary Chua Super-Causes, Super-Grounds, and the Flow of Powers: Three Medieval Views on Natural Kinds and Kind-Specific Powers Can Laurens Löwe Three Medieval Aristotelians on Numerical Identity and Time John Morrison Multiple Generality in Scholastic Logic Boaz Faraday Schuman

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24 89

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153 195

Critical Notices A Review of David Piché, Épistémologie et psychologie de la foi dans la pensée scolastique (1250–1350) Nicolas Faucher

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A Dance with the Rebel Angels: Tobias Hoffmann’s View on the Free Will Debate Sonja Schierbaum

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Briefly Noted

307

Griffel—Polloni—Ogden—Suárez

Notes for Contributors Index of Names

311 313

“Lewd, Feeble, and Frail” Humility Formulae, Medieval Women, and Authority Christina Van Dyke

The humility topos—in its most basic form, a rhetorical strategy used to position a speaker and their project respectfully in relation to their audience—appears in a wide variety of philosophical literature. Socrates, for instance, begins the Apology by claiming that he needs to defend himself in his usual “rough” manner because he is ignorant of the polished rhetoric of the law court, while the dedicatory letter of Descartes’s Meditations contrasts the Sorbonne’s position (“no institution carries more weight than yours in matters of faith; while as regards human philosophy, you are thought of as second to none”) with Descartes’s own: “when I remember not only that I am a human being, but above all that I am an ignorant one, I cannot claim that [this work] is free of mistakes” (CSM II:5). The use of humility topoi is particularly common in contemplative philosophy, with its emphasis on selfexamination and moral and spiritual development. As Julian of Norwich writes in her Revelations: “God forbid that you should say or take it so that I am a teacher, for I don’t mean that nor have I never meant that; for I am a woman, lewd [uneducated], feeble, and frail.”¹ Yet while philosophers typically read Socrates’s claim as ironic and Descartes’s as disingenuous flattery, even scholars of medieval ¹ Short Text, section 6, my rendering into modern English from the text in The Writings of Julian of Norwich: A Vision Showed to a Devout Woman and A Revelation of Love, ed. N. Watson and J. Jenkins (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2006), 75.

Christina Van Dyke, “Lewd, Feeble, and Frail”: Humility Formulae, Medieval Women, and Authority In: Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy Volume 10. Edited by: Robert Pasnau, Oxford University Press. © Christina Van Dyke 2022. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192871244.003.0001

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philosophy tend to accept claims like Julian’s—that is, claims by medieval women—at face value. When Hildegard of Bingen writes in her Scivias, for instance, that she is “timid in speaking, and simple in expounding, and untaught in writing,” we take this as a sad testament to medieval women’s relative lack of education and scholarly acumen. We ignore (or are ignorant of ) the fact that the “timid in speaking” Hildegard conducted no fewer than four major preaching tours throughout Germany, that the woman who claims to be “simple in expounding” wrote an extensive discussion on the prologue to the book of John (in the Liber Divinorum Operum), and that the “untaught in writing” Hildegard composed three major works in philosophical theology and two medical textbooks, in addition to her numerous choral works (many of which are still performed today).² The primary goal of this paper is very simple. It is to provide “one weird trick” for reading medieval Christian women’s use of humility topoi, so that contemporary scholars of medieval philosophy can appreciate how these women use them not to express lack of education, selfloathing, and/or internalized misogyny but rather to establish themselves as authorities within existing discourses. In so doing, I hope to remove one of the main obstacles that continues to block the integration of women’s works into discussions of medieval philosophy: the impression that these self-professed “unlettered” women lacked intellectual sophistication and did not consciously engage the philosophical and theological debates of their day. To that end, the rest of this paper proceeds as follows. First, I explain how humility topoi generally function in the Middle Ages, showing that their use was ubiquitous in contemplative literature by both male and ² Hildegard’s downplaying of her education has other functions as well. In “Hildegard and Her Hagiographers: The Remaking of Female Sainthood” (in Gendered Voices: Medieval Saints and Their Interpreters, ed. C. Mooney (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999)), Barbara Newman suggests that another reason Hildegard does this is “in order to authenticate her prophetic call.” Newman immediately goes on, however, to observe: “[Yet] a recently discovered vita of her teacher Jutta of Sponheim (d. 1136), commissioned by Hildegard and possibly written by Volmar [the monk who was meant to write Hildegard’s own vita until she outlived him], describes the aristocratic recluse as literate, intelligent, and a skillful teacher; it characterizes her repeatedly as a magistra, her nuns as discipulae, and their monastery as a schola” (197, fn. 18). In other words, Hildegard did, in fact, receive a formal education on the model of the schola.

 ,  ,  

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female authors, and that such statements often include (1) an explanation of the text’s larger purpose and (2) a defense of the author’s claim to write it. Second, I address the centrality of humility as a virtue in the Latin Christian contemplative tradition, for in order to understand how humility formulae would have been read in this period, we need to appreciate how humility is held up as not just an ideal but the moral ideal for layfolk as well as members of religious orders. Finally, I address medieval women’s particular use of humility topoi in light of this broader context, which allows us to see how women writers in this period often use these formulae to “front” objections to their right to write on these subjects, and then to explicitly address those objections in the voice of the only universally recognized medieval authority: God.

1. Medieval Humility Topoi as Rhetorical Trope “Can anything be reclaimed from the self-denigrating rhetoric of medieval women in the Christian tradition?” asks Michelle Voss Roberts.³ Although she goes on to answer in a qualified affirmative, Voss Roberts is hardly alone in characterizing the medieval use of self-descriptors like “ignorant” and “filthy puddle” as a particularly feminine problem;⁴ she goes on to state that, “Due to the frequency of such statements in medieval European women’s writing, scholars have bestowed upon them the status of a trope, the humility topos.”⁵ Yet the use of the humility topos is hardly unique to medieval women—it appears throughout contemplative and devotional literature in the medieval Latin Christian tradition, crossing geographic regions, religious orders, and gender. When Clare of Assisi calls herself a “useless and unworthy servant” in a letter to Agnes of Prague, for instance, she is directly ³ “Retrieving Humility: Rhetoric, Authority, and Divinization in Mechthild of Magdeburg,” Feminist Theology 18 (2009), 50–73, at 50. ⁴ See also Grace Jantzen, Power, Gender, and Christian Mysticism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995); Sarah Coakley, Powers and Submissions: Spirituality, Philosophy, and Gender (Oxford: Blackwell, 2002); and Logan Dale Greene, The Discourse of Hysteria: The Topoi of Humility, Physicality, and Authority in Women’s Rhetoric (New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 2009). ⁵ “Retrieving Humility,” 51.

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quoting the founder of her order, Francis of Assisi, who refers to himself as “a useless man and unworthy creature” in a letter written to his entire order.⁶ There are at least three reasons why humility formulae become especially common in the Rome-based Christian tradition. First, once pride is labeled the “deadliest” of the “deadly sins” identified by Gregory the Great in the sixth century (and popularly portrayed as the root of the other vices in morality plays, literature, and art), pride’s converse, humility, is in turn upheld as not just a but rather the moral ideal from which spiritual progress begins and in which it culminates, and represented as the mother or root of the virtues.⁷ Second, because medieval contemplative literature has as its primary goal moral and spiritual development in the form of increased devotion and closeness to God, the authors of such literature remain formally conscious of their status as creatures in relation to Creator regardless of whether they are addressing God (as in Anselm’s Proslogion and Catherine of Siena’s Dialogue) or fellow creatures (as in Marguerite d’Oingt’s Mirror and the anonymous Cloud of Unknowing).⁸ Finally, language describing human beings as servants of God permeates Scripture and forms one of the central models for relating to God in the Middle Ages; David’s and Paul’s confessions of weakness and humble servanthood in the Psalms and epistles are often cited in medieval texts alongside Mary’s description of herself as the handmaid of God in the Magnificat as examples of this model.⁹ Medieval humility formulae typically include professions of unworthiness, low value relative to others as well as God, and an inability to express properly what should be said due to lack of knowledge and/or education. They also often contain pleas for illumination and/or note ⁶ Complete Works, tr. R. J. Armstrong and I. Brady (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1986), 195 (Clare) and 60 (Francis). It is worth noting that the editors of this volume miss this, attributing Clare’s phrasing here to Mary’s Magnificat rather than seeing that reference as mediated through Francis. ⁷ Catherine of Siena uses the metaphor of a tree to explain the importance and effects of humility and the deadly effects of pride and sin in her Dialogue. See, e.g., chapter 10, pp. 32–33. ⁸ As Julius Schwietering writes, “the humility formula is a gesture toward God even when it is the audience that is addressed,” in “The Origins of the Medieval Humility Formula,” PMLA 69 (1954), 1279–91, at 1283. ⁹ See, for example, Bernard of Clairvaux’s Sermon 30 in Sermones in Cantica Canticorum, in Patrologiae Cursus Completus, vol. 183, ed. J. P. Migne (Turnhout: Brepols, 1969).

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that anything of value in the following work should be attributed entirely to God’s grace. Although expressions of humility on the part of the author can appear anywhere in contemplative literature, humility topoi themselves typically appear toward the very beginning (or, in the case of letters, sometimes the very end) of the work, and they serve the important function of setting out the text’s motivation and larger purpose, as well as providing a justification for why the project is being tackled by this particular author. To see how this trope works, I want now to present how it appears in texts composed by figures for whom lack of earthly authority was not an issue: Anselm and Bonaventure. Anselm, for instance, writes the following toward the opening of his On the Procession of the Holy Spirit, composed while he was serving as archbishop of Canterbury (that is, the head of the Roman Catholic Church in England): There are, to be sure, many who could accomplish this better than I can; but many people have laid this burden upon me, and because of what I owe to the love of truth, and for the sake of their charity and devout will, I dare not refuse their request. I therefore call upon the Holy Spirit himself to be gracious in directing me to this end. And so, having this hope, on account of the lowliness of my knowledge I leave higher things to those who know more than I do, and I shall attempt what they are asking me to do: employing the faith of the Greeks, and the things they unwaveringly believe and profess, to prove by utterly solid arguments what they do not believe [viz. that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Son as well as from the Father].¹⁰

Here we find all the hallmarks of the medieval humility topos: confession of unworthiness, lack of relative value in comparison to others who could undertake the task, disavowal of knowledge, and an appeal to God for grace and illumination. We also find the reason Anselm is writing the treatise and a description of the project Anselm is undertaking—namely, to present a rational argument that employs points of doctrine to which ¹⁰ All Anselm quotations are from The Complete Treatises, translated by Thomas Williams (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2022).

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the Greek Christians are committed to prove that they are wrong about the nature of the Trinity. In part because they hit all the marks that characterize humility formulae, we don’t read these words as Anselm’s expressing actual selfdoubt or genuine lack of knowledge. Rather, we take it as his paying his dues to the conventions of the genre (and doing so with enough flair to make one doubt his sincerity—it’s a bit rich, after all, to claim not to have knowledge of “higher things” right before tackling the mystery of the relation between the persons of the Trinity). He makes the same moves in the first chapter of On the Incarnation of the Word (where he calls himself “a trivial and inconsiderable fellow”), in his commendation of Cur Deus Homo to Pope Urban II (in which he writes “Although I am a man of very little knowledge, these considerations give me such great strength that I will endeavor to raise myself up just a little . . . so far as heavenly grace sees fit to grant it to me”), and in the preface of the Monologion (which he describes himself as unwilling to write “because of the difficulty of the task and the weakness of my own talent”). That Anselm does not mean such statements to be taken literally is further supported by his behavior: when sending the Monologion to Lanfranc, for instance, Anselm writes that if Lanfranc does not approve of it, “then let the copy that I am sending to you not be returned to me or to the aforementioned brother; rather, let it be banished by one of the elements: buried, sunk, burned up, or scattered.” Lanfranc does not approve of the work, but Anselm publishes it anyway. Bonaventure, who presided over the Franciscan order as Minister General for almost two decades, uses similar formulae in his contemplative (as opposed to scholastic) works as well.¹¹ Take, for example, the beginning of his vita of Francis of Assisi, in which Bonaventure writes:

¹¹ Humility formulae are not commonly found in the scholastic genre of disputed questions, most likely because disputed questions developed from a teaching context, in which different groups of students were assigned to present arguments either “for” or “against” a particular proposition in a question, which the master in charge of the class then “settled.” In this setting, the purpose of the discourse is clear, and what is most relevant is the master’s authority (and the authorities on which the master draws—Augustine, Avicenna, etc.), as opposed to his humility. That this, rather than any underlying difference in attitude towards humility, is what influences the use of humility formulae is clear from a look at scholastic figures who also wrote contemplative works, such as Bonaventure and Meister Eckhart.

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I feel that I am unworthy and unequal to the task of writing the life of a man so venerable and worthy of imitation. I would never have attempted it if the fervent desire of the friars had not aroused me, the unanimous urging of the General Chapter had not induced me, and the devotion which I am obliged to have toward our holy father had not compelled me. For when I was a boy, as I still vividly recall, I was snatched from the jaws of death by his invocation and his merits. So if I remained silent and did not sing his praises, I fear that I would rightly be accused of the crime of ingratitude. I recognize that God saved my life through him, and I realize that I have experienced his power in my very person. This, then, is my principal reason for undertaking this task, that I may gather together the accounts of his virtue, his actions, and his words—like so many fragments, partly forgotten and partly scattered—although I cannot accomplish this fully, so that they may not be lost when those who lived with this servant of God die.¹²

Here again we see all the hallmarks of the humility topos, including the reason why Bonaventure in particular is writing this text and the purpose for his undertaking this task (namely, so that Francis’s virtue, actions, and words can continue to inspire future generations). Like Anselm, Bonaventure is firmly established at the top of his institutional hierarchy; his protestations of ignorance or lack of worth cannot be taken, then, as due to internalized norms of subordination—other than the prevailing norm of subordination to God, which everyone in the Latin Christian tradition acknowledged. (Even the most worldly of popes in this period refer to themselves as the “humble servants” of God in letters and other documents.) The final example of the general use of humility formulae I want to consider comes from the Meditations on the Life of Christ, a late thirteenth-century set of spiritual exercises that became one of the

¹² Translation by Ewert Cousins, 182–83. Bonaventure also goes on to say in this same passage that “I decided that I should avoid a cultivated literary style, since the reader’s devotion profits more from simple rather than ornate expression.”

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most widely read pieces of literature in the later Middle Ages, particularly among women. In its prologue, the anonymous author states: I did wish you would receive this introduction from someone more experienced and learned, because I am quite inadequate for such things. Nevertheless, judging that it would be better to say something suitable rather than remain silent entirely, I shall put my inexperience to the test and speak on familiar terms with you, in a rough and unrefined manner of speaking: on the one hand so that you are able to understand better what is said, and on the other, that you can strive thereby to refresh not your ear but your mind. . . . I hope also that my lack of expertise might supply something to your lack of erudition; but in this endeavor I am even more hopeful that, provided you wish to exert yourself by assiduous meditation, you will have as virtual teacher the same Lord Jesus of whom we speak.¹³

Here we see another classic use of the humility topos in a widely circulated and read text. This statement appears immediately following an explanation of how the meditations recommended in this work will prepare their practitioner for contemplation of God in its highest form; it includes the standard disavowals of worth, knowledge, and literary expertise, and an appeal to illumination from God. This appeal, moreover, invokes the popular Augustinian trope of God as the only true teacher—a move that levels the intellectual playing field as well as acknowledges God as the ultimate source of truth. Insofar as God alone is responsible for granting human beings understanding and wisdom, the Franciscan nun to whom the Meditations was written is in as good a position for receiving illumination as cardinals and university masters. In fact, the importance of humility as a virtue in the later Middle Ages entails that God is seen as perhaps more likely to illuminate the “least of these.” To further illuminate the use of humility formulae in this period, then, I turn now to a discussion of humility as moral ideal, modeled by Christ himself. ¹³ Meditations on the Life of Christ, tr. F. X. Taney, Anne Miller, and C. Mary Stallings-Taney (Asheville, NC: Pegasus Press, 2000), 3–4.

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2. Humility as Contemplative Virtue As mentioned in section 1, after Gregory the Great’s delineation of the “deadly sins” in the sixth century, the virtue of humility gains special emphasis in monastic communities as the converse of pride. After the Gregorian reforms of the eleventh century and the rise of the university system in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, growing frustration with both rigid ecclesiastical hierarchies and intellectual elitism contributes to a widespread cultural emphasis on the importance of humility. In the mendicant orders and in the lay devotional movements that spread like wildfire in the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries, humility is upheld as a virtue central not just to moral and religious life, but to intellectual life as well: true wisdom is a gift from God, and contemplation of the divine is inherently humbling. Furthermore, the prime exemplar of humility throughout the Middle Ages was taken to be Christ himself. Although the Second Person of the Trinity, Christ “emptied himself and took on the form of a servant” via the Incarnation, presenting a model of humility with universal applicability—if God can be humble, then everyone should be humble: pope or peasant, bishop or beguine. This conception of humility as moral ideal forms the background against which medieval expressions of unworthiness and ignorance were uttered and interpreted. Such pronouncements represent comparative rather than absolute assessments of worth, where the ultimate object of any comparison is always God. Because fallen human nature tends toward pride and an inflated sense of self-worth, the function of this comparison is to remind both author and reader that any human accomplishment pales to insignificance next to God’s infinite actuality. The poem with which Marguerite of Porete opens her Mirror of Simple Souls neatly captures how humility was portrayed as an ideal—and a caution against pride—in the early fourteenth century. Introducing her treatise to its readers, she writes: Humility, who is keeper of the treasury of Knowledge And the mother of the other Virtues Must overtake you. [...]

10    Theologians and other clerks, You will not have the intellect for it, No matter how brilliant your abilities, If you do not proceed humbly. (79)

Here Marguerite draws on humility’s status as both the source of the other virtues and a precondition for wisdom. The explicit mention of the need for humility in theologians and clerks (who represented the pinnacle of the hierarchy of intelligentsia, and who would burn Marguerite at the stake as a heretic in 1310) underscores the idea that intellectual pride is an obstacle to illumination. I have written in more detail elsewhere about the vital role humility plays in the medieval Christian contemplative tradition;¹⁴ for the purposes of this paper, what proves most important is its status as a moral, epistemic, and spiritual ideal, and Christ’s modeling of that ideal. A central theme of the medieval meditation genre, for instance, is that the Incarnation has created an unbreakable link between humanity and divinity.¹⁵ As the English hermit Richard Rolle writes in one of his widely read fourteenth-century meditations on the life of Christ: Lord who came down from heaven to earth for love of the human race, from so high to so low, from such dominion to such low poverty, from such high splendor to such low misery, from such high magnificence to such low sorrow, from such a pleasurable life to such a painful death, now, Lord for all that love which you revealed to mankind in your incarnation and in your passion, I implore you for mercy and help.¹⁶

¹⁴ See, for instance, “ ‘Many Know Much, but Do Not Know Themselves’: Self-Knowledge, Humility, and Perfection in the Medieval Affective Contemplative Tradition,” in G. Klima and A. Hall (eds.), Consciousness and Self-Knowledge in Medieval Philosophy (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2018), 89–106. ¹⁵ For more on the medieval meditative tradition, and particularly its relation to the activity of contemplation, see Michelle Karnes, Imagination, Meditation, and Cognition in the Middle Ages (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011), and my “From Meditation to Contemplation: Broadening the Borders of Philosophy in the 13th–15th Centuries,” in A. Griffioen and M. Backmann (eds.), Pluralizing Philosophy’s Past: New Reflections in the History of Philosophy (London: Palgrave Macmillan, forthcoming). ¹⁶ The English Writings, ed. and tr. R. Allen (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1988), 107.

 ,  ,  

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One reason Christ’s example of humility proves so informative for our purposes is that it represents a perfect model of humility: humility in its purest form, devoid of pretense or sin. Paradoxically—but crucially— Christ’s model teaches that humility is intrinsically linked with dignity and sublimity. Indeed, a common Scriptural trope throughout both the Old and New Testament is the high being brought low and the low being raised up; the Passion and Resurrection present the ultimate example both of how the high should humble themselves and also of how the humble will be lifted high. Any number of medieval authors highlight Christ’s example as both an imitable model of humility and an assurance that such humility will result in a closer union with God. When meditating on Christ’s presence in the Eucharist, for instance, Francis of Assisi writes: O sublime humility! O humble sublimity! ... Look, brothers, at the humility of God And pour out your hearts before him! Humble yourselves, as well, That you may be exalted by Him.¹⁷

The medieval call to humility is always balanced with this assurance (sometimes implicit; often explicit) that God will exalt those who answer this call. Finally, professions of insignificance and lowliness in this period must also be read in light of the fact that according to this tradition, union with God is understood to be the final end of human nature—that is, human beings are meant to aim all their actions ultimately at becoming one with the perfect source of all goodness.¹⁸ Obviously, the contrast between that perfect source and fallen human nature is extreme. Regardless, human ¹⁷ “A Letter to the Entire Order,” in The Complete Works, 55. ¹⁸ For more on differing conceptions of what, exactly, that final end might look like, see my “The Phenomenology of Immortality (1200–1400),” in M. Cameron (ed.), The History of the Philosophy of Mind, vol. 2: Philosophy of Mind in the Early and High Middle Ages (London: Routledge, 2019), 219–39.

12    beings were understood to be created in God’s image by their possession of intellect and will, and were encouraged to develop those capacities in order to grow closer to God. Medieval acknowledgements of the extent to which human beings fall short of this goal don’t indicate a static sense of worthlessness; rather, they acknowledge the importance of humility as a dynamic component of moral and spiritual growth—the ground in which other virtues root themselves and begin to bear fruit.

3. Re-reading Medieval Women’s Use of Humility Formulae It is against this background that we need to read medieval women’s use of humility formulae: first, the careful use of humility formulae throughout this period as a way of introducing the text’s content and explaining/ defending the claim of this particular author to write it; second, the centrality of humility as moral, intellectual, and spiritual ideal, taken to apply equally to all, and intrinsically linked with dignity and divinity. Understanding this broader context allows us to appreciate how many medieval women use these formulae not only to situate themselves as authorities but also to explicitly respond to the objection that women have no business speaking on theological and philosophical topics. We find an early use of this trope in Hrotsvit of Gandersheim’s letter to the patrons of her dramas. As she writes in verse: I do not deny that by the gift of the Creator’s grace I am able to grasp certain concepts the arts concerning because I am a creature capable of learning, but I also know that through my own powers, I know nothing. [...] Therefore, in order to prevent God’s gift in me from dying by my neglect, I have tried whenever I could probe, to rip small patches from Philosophy’s robe and weave them into this little work of mine, so that the worthlessness of my own ignorance may be ennobled by their interweaving of this nobler material’s shine,

 ,  ,  

13

and that, thus, the Giver of my talent all the more justly be praised through me, the more limited the female intellect is believed to be.¹⁹

Here, the late tenth-century Benedictine nun includes all the classic features of the medieval humility formula, including a nod toward the overtly Boethian content of her dramas (particularly the Sapientia); the reference to ripping pieces from Philosophy’s robe is a direct reference to the opening book of Boethius’s Consolation of Philosophy, and it implies that Hrotsvit sees herself as a philosopher.²⁰ We also see here the main modification to the general humility topos that characterizes its use by female authors—namely, (1) explicit mention of the sex of the writer, (2) reference to common beliefs about female weakness (in intellectual, physical, moral, and spiritual form), and (3) an assurance that these perceived limitations pose no barrier to the text’s ability to convey divine Truth (and may, in fact, enhance its ability to do so).²¹ I have already referenced Hildegard of Bingen’s twelfth-century use of the humility formula in the introduction; with the virtual explosion of contemplative literature in the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries, there are any number of later examples to choose from. To highlight the breadth of this trope, then, let us consider its use by Mechthild of Magdeburg (a German beguine who writes in Middle Low German), Marguerite d’Oingt (a French Carthusian nun who writes in both Latin and Franco-Provençal), Mechthild of Hackeborn (a nun at Helfta whose book is composed in Latin), and Julian of Norwich (an English anchorite who writes in Middle English). As we will see, despite differences in style and emphasis, the general form and function of their humility topoi remain remarkably similar.

¹⁹ Florilegium of Her Works, ed. and tr. K. Wilson (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1998), 44. ²⁰ This is further supported by Hrotsvit’s subsequent claim that “I do not boast to possess knowledge nor do I pretend not to be ignorant; but, as far as I am concerned, the only thing I know is that I know naught” (44)—a direct echo of Socrates’s contention in the Apology that the only thing he knows is that he knows nothing, and this alone is the respect in which he should be considered wisest. ²¹ Hrotsvit regularly mentions her sex and its perceived limitations in her author’s prologues or dedicatory letters, often in a manner obviously meant to be ironic, as when she uses complex meter to express the difficulty of writing in verse for “the fragile female sex” (19).

14    Little is known of Mechthild of Magdeburg’s early life or education; what we do know is that she was a beguine—that is, a laywoman who dedicated herself to a life of religious devotion and service without entering a convent—and that she composes the majority of her book, The Flowing Light of the Godhead, before taking refuge at the nunnery at Helfta (famous for its intellectual community) later in life. Much has been made in recent discussions about how Mechthild’s expressions of humility and anxiety concerning how her book will be read and received should be understood;²² Michelle Voss Roberts, for instance, claims that Mechthild’s worries play an “authorizing function” by dint of providing “constant iterations of lowliness that subtly persuaded her male supporters” that she poses no threat to established authority.²³ In light of the evidence I have presented in the previous two sections of this paper, however, I believe that these expressions are actually meant to establish the authority of their texts in a much more straightforward way— namely, to explicitly address the question of their status as women writing about theological and philosophical matters and to establish their right to speak authoritatively about God and God’s will for their fellow human beings. Take for instance, this memorable passage at the outset of Book II, in which Mechthild refers to herself as “filthy ooze” in sharing with God the worry that her book will not be read or properly appreciated: Ah, Lord, if I were a learned religious man, And if you had performed this unique great miracle using him, You would receive everlasting honor for it. But how is one supposed to believe That you have built a golden house on filthy ooze And really live in it with your mother, with all creatures, and with your heavenly court? Lord, earthly wisdom will not be able to find you there.

²² See, e.g., Sara Poor, Mechthild of Magdeburg and Her Book: Gender and the Making of Textual Authority (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004) and Voss Roberts, “Retrieving Humility.” ²³ “Retrieving Humility,” 68.

 ,  ,  

15

Here Mechthild purposefully contrasts her status and knowledge as a laywoman with that of a university-educated man. At the same time, she refers to her book as not just a “unique great miracle” but also a “golden house” inhabited not just by Christ but also by Mary and the heavenly hosts. Now look at the response she receives from no lesser an authority than God: Daughter, many a wise man, because of negligence On a big highway, has lost his precious gold With which he was hoping to go to a famous school. Someone is going to find it. By nature I have acted accordingly many a day. Whenever I bestowed special favors, I always sought out the lowest, most insignificant, and most unknown place for them. The highest mountains on earth cannot receive the revelations of my favors Because the course of the Holy Spirit flows by nature downhill. One finds many a professor learned in scripture who is actually a fool in my eyes. And I’ll tell you something else: It is a great honor for me with regard to them, and it very much strengthens Holy Christianity That the unlearned mouth, aided by my Holy Spirit, teaches the learned tongue.²⁴

This assurance that Mechthild’s text is inspired by the Holy Spirit, that earthly wisdom is often foolishness, and that what she has to say will actually benefit those learned men is further supported by her appeal to the medieval ideal of humility discussed in section 2. It is the “least of these” who are most open to God’s teaching, and whose work “strengthens Holy Christianity.” We find another example of this sort of use of the humility topos in the work of Marguerite d’Oingt, a Carthusian nun whose works (although ²⁴ The Flowing Light of the Godhead, tr. F. Tobin (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1980), 97.

16    little known today) were widely read and well respected in both her own time and in following centuries. Toward the outset of her Page of Meditations, a late thirteenth-century set of meditations on the life of Christ, Marguerite offers what at first looks like a flurry of justifications and self-effacing anxiety: I began to think about and to contemplate the sweetness and goodness which is in Him, and the great good He had done me and all of humanity [via his Incarnation]. I was so full of these thoughts that I lost my appetite and my sleep. [ . . . ] I thought that the hearts of men and women are so flighty that they can hardly ever remain in one place, and because of that I fixed in writing the thoughts that God had ordered into my heart so that I would not lose them when I removed them from my heart, and so that I could think over them little by little whenever God would give me His grace. And for that reason I ask all those who read this text not to think badly [of me] because I had the presumption to write this, since you must believe that I have no sense or learning with which I would know how to take these things from my heart, nor could I write this down without any other model than the grace of God which is working within me.²⁵

If we look at this passage again, however, in light of the general use of humility formulae (notice, for instance, how Marguerite immediately makes it clear that the content of the work will be thoughts on the life of Christ), and humility as moral ideal, we can read it more as it would have originally been meant and understood. First Marguerite, who is proficient in several languages, obviously does not lack either “sense or learning”; in fact, she writes these words in Latin—the language of scholarship and the Church. Second, the Carthusian order, which took strict vows of silence and solitude, used the act of writing and transcribing as a spiritual discipline and had as one of their central spiritual metaphors the image of God inscribing words directly into their

²⁵ The Writings of Margaret of Oingt, Medieval Prioress and Mystic (d. 1310), tr. R. Blumenfeld-Kosinski (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1990), 26.

 ,  ,  

17

hearts.²⁶ Thus, Marguerite’s claim that God ordered these thoughts “into her heart” and that she is in turn transcribing those thoughts directly from her heart is extremely significant. Third, Marguerite attributes her ability to compose this text to nothing less than the model of God’s own grace moving within her, giving both the origin and the means of her writing a divine source. Finally, note that although she initially frames the composition of this text in terms of an aid to her own future meditation, she assumes a wider readership in asking for kindness from “all those who read this text.” Taken as a whole, this statement actually positions what Marguerite is about to say as an important contribution to the teachings of her religious order. Another medieval contemplative who was influential in her own time but remains little known today is Mechthild of Hackeborn, described by Rosalynn Voaden as “one of the best known and most widely read visionaries in late medieval and early modern Europe.”²⁷ The composition of Mechthild’s Book of Special Grace was a collective effort; although Mechthild apparently regularly shared her visions and revelations with her fellow nuns at Helfta, she is described as initially unaware and then horrified to discover that these experiences were being written down and collected by some of her sisters (including Gertrude the Great—an equally notable contemplative and author). When she goes to God with her worries, however, God explains to her that “Truth itself ” is speaking through her: I am in the hearts of those who desire to listen to you, stirring up that desire in them. I am the understanding in the ears of those who hear you; it is through me that they understand what they hear. I am also in the mouths of those who speak of these things. And I am in the hands of the writers as their helper and collaborator in every way. ²⁶ As Bennett Gilbert writes, “Transcription, filling the monk’s mind with truthful words, was the first step in a [Carthusian’s] spiritual reflection,” in “Early Carthusian Script and Silence,” Cistercian Studies Quarterly 49 (2014), 367–97, at 372. ²⁷ As Voaden goes on to write: “Hundreds of copies of [Mechthild’s] book of revelations, the Liber specialis gratiae, were in circulation in both complete and excerpted forms, in Latin, and translations into at least five different vernaculars” (“Mechthild of Hackeborn,” in A. Minnis and R. Voaden (eds.), Medieval Holy Women in the Christian Tradition c. 1100–c. 1500 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), 431–51, at 431).

18    Thus, all that they compose and write in and through me is true, for I am Truth itself.²⁸

After being assured that God was in favor of the book’s composition, Mechthild is reported as participating enthusiastically in its production. Again, we see here how a profession of humility (in the form of Mechthild’s stated alarm at learning her visions are being preserved for dissemination) is met by God’s explicit endorsement of the text’s project. As with the prologue to the Meditations on the Life of Christ, the appeal to the Augustinian trope of God as the only true teacher gives what follows the stamp not just of divine approval but also of divine authority.²⁹ Let me close this section with a passage from the Short Text of Julian of Norwich’s Revelations (written toward the end of the fourteenth century). Julian begins with a classic use of the humility formula, going on to address objections to a woman’s writing on theological matters: God forbid that you should say or take it so that I am a teacher, for I don’t mean that nor have I never meant that. For I am a woman, lewd [uneducated], feeble, and frail. But I know well that what I say I have received from the showing of him who is sovereign teacher. Indeed, charity stirs me to tell you it. For I wish that God were known and my fellow Christians helped, as I wish to be myself, to the greater hatred of sin and loving of God. But because I am a woman, should I therefore believe that I should not tell you the goodness of God, since I saw in that same time [that is, during her visions] that it is his will that it be known? And that you shall well see in what follows, if it be well and truly understood. Then shall you soon forget me who is a wretch, and ²⁸ The Book of Special Grace, tr. B. Newman (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2017), 242–3. ²⁹ This is a recurring theme. See, for instance, 5.31 where God assures Mechthild: “Just as truly as you received it from my Spirit, so truly my Spirit compelled them to write it down and elaborate it” (245). We find a similar emphasis on humility’s connection with God’s grace in Mechthild’s scribe and sister nun, Gertrude the Great: “Now Gertrude was led by her very humility to consider herself so unworthy of God’s gifts that she could not be induced to believe that they were given her for her own advantage. She saw herself as a channel through which, by some mysterious disposition of God, his grace flowed to his elect, since she herself was so unworthy and received all God’s gifts, small or great (so she thought), in the most inadequate and unfruitful fashion, save only that she took the trouble to distribute them to others in speech or writing” (The Herald of Divine Love, ed. and tr. M. Winkworth (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1993)).

 ,  ,  

19

do so that I not interfere with your learning, and behold Jesus who is the teacher of all.³⁰

Here Julian combines the common tropes of humility formulae (disavowal of knowledge and worth) with the tropes more specific to women (frailty and weakness) into one pithy sentence. She appeals to divine love and God’s will (also the main subject matter of her Showings) to explain why she writes, and also to explicitly address her status as a woman. Her comment about being a wretch functions in this context primarily to draw attention to how all are wretches in comparison to God. Finally, the Augustinian anchorite reminds her readers that the only real teacher is God, from whom all authority comes.

4. Conclusion Although even the most brilliant women in this period faced significant obstacles to being heard—particularly insofar as they were barred from holding prominent positions in ecclesiastical and university hierarchies— this does not mean that their self-descriptions as uneducated and ignorant should be taken at face value. As we saw in section 2, anyone in this period who claimed authority on their own merit would be dismissed out of hand; in this context, women’s stressing their greater claim to humility via their “naturally” subordinated position functioned simultaneously to emphasize their claim to a closer connection to the divine. Furthermore, the women who wrote the passages discussed in section 3 were familiar not only with the general form and function of medieval humility formulae but also with many of the actual texts in which they were found. Rather than being forbidden, the activities of reading and writing were widely portrayed as signs of holiness and religious devotion for women in the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries.³¹ In addition to the ³⁰ Short Text, section 6, my rendering into modern English from the text in The Writings of Julian of Norwich, ed. Watson and Jenkins, 75. ³¹ As Richard Kieckhefer notes, “We know that certain women saints were enthusiastic readers, and we know that devotional reading figured prominently in the urban religious culture of the era. . . . This is not to suggest that pious women read more than men did, or that the content of the books was less important for men than for women. Rather, it may be that the activity of reading was in closer accord with the central themes of women’s piety than

20    “sister-books” and convent chronicles generated by and shared between communities of religious women (e.g., nuns, beguines, and tertiaries), the high demand for pocket Bibles, Books of Hours, and meditative literature for personal devotional use speaks to the assumption that the wealthy laywomen who commissioned these works both could and would read them; in stained glass windows, sculptures, altarpieces, and paintings from this period throughout Europe, women are frequently depicted holding and reading books.³² The influence of contemplative works written by women throughout this period on ecclesiastical as well as lay communities demonstrates that women were seen as potentially valuable sources of insights into divine wisdom (that is, the only “true” source of knowledge and truth) throughout this period. Indeed, the simple fact that so many of these women’s texts survive today means that they were, in fact, taken seriously as authoritative sources on moral and theological matters. Viewing medieval women’s use of humility formulae through the lens laid out in this paper allows us to appreciate the skill with which those women “flip” their inferior social status to position their works as important contributions to existing debates, and to appreciate that many medieval women were, in fact, both more aware of and engaged in the theological and philosophical debates of their day than contemporary scholars of medieval philosophy tend to realize. Women’s contributions to these debates were not ignored in their own time; it would be a shame if scholars of medieval philosophy continued to ignore them now.³³ Barnard College with those of men’s” (“Holiness and the Culture of Devotion,” in R. Blumenfeld-Kosinski and T. Szell (eds.), Images of Sainthood in Medieval Europe (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991), 302). ³² For more on this topic, see Gertrud Jaron Lewis, By Women, for Women, about Women: The Sister-Books of Fourteenth-Century Germany (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1996), as well as any and all of volumes three through five of Bernard McGinn’s compendious The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 1991–2016). ³³ Thanks to Andrew Arlig and Christia Mercer for their valuable feedback on earlier versions of this paper, as well as to the audiences of the Arché Feminist Philosophy and Social Theory Seminar at the University of St. Andrews, a workshop for the New Narratives in Philosophy Center at Columbia University called Seeking Authority: Women, Genre, and Philosophical Reflection in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, the Goliardic Society at Western Michigan University, and feedback from Juliana Oaxley on a much shorter and more informal version of this project, which was published as an APA blog post at https://blog.apaonline.org/ 2021/05/19/lewd-feeble-and-frail-subverting-sexist-tropes-to-gain-authority.

 ,  ,  

21

Bibliography Primary Sources Anonymous. Meditations on the Life of Christ, tr. F. X. Taney, Anne Miller, and C. Mary Stallings-Taney (Asheville, NC: Pegasus Press, 2000). Anselm. The Complete Treatises, tr. T. Williams (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2022). Bernard of Clairvaux. Sermones in Cantica Canticorum, in Patrologiae Cursus Completus, vol. 183, ed. J. P. Migne (Turnhout: Brepols, 1969). Bonaventure. The Soul’s Journey into God; The Tree of Life; The Life of St. Francis, tr. E. Cousins (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1978). Catherine of Siena. The Dialogue, tr. S. Noffke (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1980). Clare and Francis of Assisi. The Complete Works, tr. R. J. Armstrong and I. Brady (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1986). Descartes, René. The Philosophical Writings of Descartes, tr. J. Cottingham, R. Stoothoff, D. Murdoch, and A. Kenny, 3 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984–91). [CSM] Gertrude the Great. The Herald of Divine Love, ed. and tr. M. Winkworth (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1993). Hrotsvit. A Florilegium of Her Works, ed. and tr. K. Wilson (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1998). Julian of Norwich. The Writings of Julian of Norwich: A Vision Showed to a Devout Woman and A Revelation of Love, ed. N. Watson and J. Jenkins (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2006). Margaret of Oingt. The Writings of Margaret of Oingt, Medieval Prioress and Mystic (d. 1310), tr. R. Blumenfeld-Kosinski (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 1990). Marguerite Porete. The Mirror of Simple Souls, tr. E. L. Babinsky (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1993). Mechthild of Hackeborn. The Book of Special Grace, tr. B. Newman (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2017). Mechthild of Magdeburg. The Flowing Light of the Godhead, tr. F. Tobin (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1980). Richard Rolle. The English Writings, ed. and tr. R. Allen (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1988).

22   

Secondary Sources Coakley, Sarah. Powers and Submissions: Spirituality, Philosophy, and Gender (Oxford: Blackwell, 2002). Gilbert, Bennett. “Early Carthusian Script and Silence,” Cistercian Studies Quarterly 49 (2014), 367–97. Greene, Logan Dale. The Discourse of Hysteria: The Topoi of Humility, Physicality, and Authority in Women’s Rhetoric (New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 2009). Jantzen, Grace. Power, Gender, and Christian Mysticism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). Karnes, Michelle. Imagination, Meditation, and Cognition in the Middle Ages (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011). Kieckhefer, Richard. “Holiness and the Culture of Devotion,” in R. Blumenfeld-Kosinski and T. Szell (eds.), Images of Sainthood in Medieval Europe (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991). Lewis, Gertrud Jaron. By Women, for Women, about Women: The SisterBooks of Fourteenth-Century Germany (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1996). McGinn, Bernard. The Flowering of Mysticism: Men and Women in the New Mysticism: 1200–1350, vol. 3 of The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism (New York: Crossroad, 1998). McGinn, Bernard. The Harvest of Mysticism in Medieval Germany: 1300–1500, vol. 4 of The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism (New York: Crossroad, 2005). McGinn, Bernard. Varieties of Vernacular Mysticism: 1350–1550, vol. 5 of The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism (New York: Crossroad, 2016). Newman, Barbara. “Hildegard and Her Hagiographers: The Remaking of Female Sainthood,” in C. Mooney (ed.), Gendered Voices: Medieval Saints and Their Interpreters (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999). Poor, Sara. Mechthild of Magdeburg and Her Book: Gender and the Making of Textual Authority (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004). Schwietering, Julius. “The Origins of the Medieval Humility Formula,” PMLA 69 (1954), 1279–91.

 ,  ,  

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Van Dyke, Christina. “ ‘Many Know Much, but Do Not Know Themselves’: Self-Knowledge, Humility, and Perfection in the Medieval Affective Contemplative Tradition,” in G. Klima and A. Hall (eds.), Consciousness and Self-Knowledge in Medieval Philosophy (Proceedings of the Society for Medieval Logic and Metaphysics, vol. 14) (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2018), 89–106. Van Dyke, Christina. “From Meditation to Contemplation: Broadening the Borders of Philosophy in the 13th–15th Centuries,” in A. Griffioen and M. Backmann (eds.), Pluralizing Philosophy’s Past: New Reflections in the History of Philosophy (London: Palgrave Macmillan, forthcoming). Van Dyke, Christina. “The Phenomenology of Immortality (1200–1400),” in M. Cameron (ed.), The History of the Philosophy of Mind, vol. 2: Philosophy of Mind in the Early and High Middle Ages (London: Routledge, 2019), 219–39. Voaden, Rosalynn. “Mechthild of Hackeborn,” in A. Minnis and R. Voaden (eds.), Medieval Holy Women in the Christian Tradition c. 1100–c. 1500 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), 431–51. Voss Roberts, Michelle. “Retrieving Humility: Rhetoric, Authority, and Divinization in Mechthild of Magdeburg,” Feminist Theology 18 (2009), 50–73.

Al-Fārābī’s Commentary on the Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics in Todros


Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology
(Introduction, Edition of the Text, and Annotated Translation) Daniel Davies and Alexander Lamprakis

1. Introduction to the Text a. Introduction This article presents the editio princeps and first complete annotated English translation of the extant fragments from al-Fārābī’s otherwise lost commentary on the eighth book of Aristotle’s Topics. These fragments only survive in the Hebrew translation of Todros Todrosi (born

1313 ) from Trinquetaille in Arles, a center of Jewish learning in fourteenth-century Provence.¹ They are part of an anthology of philosophical texts, which Todrosi composed around the year 1333 , extant
¹ Only little is known of Todrosi’s life. His full name is Todros ben Meshullam ben David

Todrosi. While his exact life span is not known, his working period can be given as 1330–1340
from some of the extant mentioned dates. For a summary of his translations and possible contacts with other intellectuals of his time, see Gabriella Elgrably-Berzin, Avicenna in Medieval Hebrew Translation: Todros Todrosi’s Translation of Kitāb al-Najāt, on Psychology and Metaphysics

(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1–6 and Francesca Gorgoni, La traduction hébraïque du Commentaire Moyen d’Averroès à la Poétique d’Aristote: étude, édition du texte hébreu et traduction française avec glossaire hébreu-arabe-français (Ph.D. dissertation, Paris, 2017), 33–41. Daniel Davies and Alexander Lamprakis, Al-Farabı ’s Commentary on the Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics in Todros Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology (Introduction, Edition of the Text, and Annotated Translation) In:

Oxford Studies in Medieval Philosophy Volume 10. Edited by: Robert Pasnau, Oxford University Press. © Daniel Davies and Alexander Lamprakis 2022. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780192871244.003.0002

-’     

25

in the single MS British Library Add. 27559.² The translations amount to 33 fragments of varying length, in which al-Fārābī discusses a number of topics connected to the study of dialectic and its relation to the neighboring syllogistic arts. Todrosi’s methodology in this work (henceforth called Philosophical
Anthology) has been profoundly analyzed in a recent article by Steven Harvey and Oded Horezky.³ Nevertheless, his special method of presenting his translations from al-Fārābī’s commentary calls for some preliminary remarks here as well, in order to enable the reader to understand the form in which the fragments are presented and to assess them critically. We therefore begin with a brief recapitulation of the method Todrosi employs in his Philosophical Anthology and the ramifi
cations of this methodology for the evaluation and presentation of what is found in the section dedicated to dialectic. Following this, we will ² The manuscript is described in George Margoliouth, Catalogue of the Hebrew and Samaritan Manuscripts in the British Museum, 3 vols. (London: Gilbert and Rivington, 1899–1915), vol. 3, 186–90. For an updated account of the manuscript and its dating to roughly a century after Todrosi wrote his anthology, see Steven Harvey and Oded Horezky, “Averroes ex
Averroe: Uncovering Todros Todrosi’s Method of Commenting on the Commentator,” Aleph

21 (2021), 12–13 and esp. Appendix III. We are grateful to the authors for generously making their research available to us before publication. To the best of our knowledge, Todrosi’s
translations of this work were first mentioned by Shalom Rosenberg in his unpublished dissertation Logic and Ontology in Jewish Philosophy in the 14th Century (Heb.) (Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1973), 5. Subsequently, Mauro Zonta (1968–2017) began to study them in depth, but his untimely passing prevented him from continuing this work. Studies of these fragments appeared in the following of his works: La filosofia antica nel medioevo ebraico (Brescia: Paideia 1996), 162; 253; “Fonti antiche e medievali della logica ebraica nella Provenza del trecento,” Medioevo 23 (1997), 557–62; “Al-Fārābī’s Commentaries on Aristotelian Logic: New Discoveries,” in: U. Vermeulen & D. De Smet (eds.), Philosophy and Arts in the Islamic World: Proceedings of the Eighteenth Congress of the Union Européenne des Arabisants et des Islamisants (Leuven: Peters, 1998), 228–30; and in his “About Todros Todrosi’s Medieval Hebrew Translation of al-Fārābī’s Lost Long Commentary/Gloss-Commentary On Aristotle’s Topics, Book VIII,” History and Philosophy of Logic 32 (2011), 37–45. Without Zonta’s pioneering work, the current edition and translation would not have been undertaken. ³ Harvey and Horezky, “Averroes ex Averroe,” 13–24. As for the section on logic, more specifically, see Steven Harvey and Oded Horezky, “From Translator to Commentator: Todros
Todrosi’s Presentation of Aristotle’s Organon,” Studia Graeco-Arabica 11 (2021), 141–56. For
an account of Todrosi’s place in the Arabic-into-Hebrew translation movement, see also Steven
Harvey, “Arabic into Hebrew: The Hebrew Translation Movement and the Influence of Ibn Rushd upon Medieval Jewish Thought,” in D. H. Frank and O. Leaman (eds.), The Cambridge Companion to Medieval Jewish Philosophy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 260 and 272. For the topic of medieval Jewish logic more generally, see Charles H. Manekin, “Logic, Jewish,” in H. Lagerlund (ed.), Encyclopedia of Medieval Philosophy: Philosophy between 500 and 1500 (Dordrecht: Springer, 2011), 697–702, and the same author’s The Logic of Gersonides: A Translation of Sefer ha-Heqqesh ha-Yashar: (The Book of the Correct Syllogism) of Rabbi Levi ben Gershom (Dordrecht: Springer, 1992), 1–9.

26      present what can be ascertained of al-Fārābī’s commentary on Topics book VIII and discuss the extent to which it might have been known to Todrosi. We hope that these introductory remarks will contribute to a
better understanding of both al-Fārābī’s thought on dialectic and its fourteenth-century Hebrew reception.

b. The Section on Dialectic in Todrosi’s
Philosophical Anthology Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology comprises two books, one dedicated to
the study of logic and one to the study of natural philosophy. The part of the anthology that deals with the study of logic spans folios 1r–93v and, following Todrosi’s programmatic introduction to the logic (1r–1v),
includes sections dedicated to commenting on material related to Porphyry’s Isagoge (2v–9r), Aristotle’s Prior Analytics (9r–22r), Posterior Analytics (22v–67r) and, finally, the Topics (67r–93v).⁴ In his general introduction to the first book, Todrosi explains that the
purpose of his work is to provide material from the philosophical tradition that facilitates the understanding of Ibn Rushd’s paraphrastic explanations of Aristotle’s treatises, his so-called middle commentaries.⁵ This is a reflection of the fact that, as Steven Harvey states, the “medieval Jewish thinkers considered Aristotle the most important philosopher, but their knowledge of his teachings came mostly from the commentaries.”⁶ By Todrosi’s time, three of Aristotle’s own works had been put into


⁴ Harvey and Horezky, “Averroes ex Averroe,” 76–77 (Appendix III), who also mention the authors referred to by Todrosi in these sections. Harvey and Horezky present and examine this
preface together with Todrosi’s introduction to the section on natural science, which immedi
ately follows the logic. On Todrosi’s reasons to exclude the Categories and On Interpretation see
the analysis in Harvey and Horezky, “From Translator to Commentator,” 146–7. As for whether Todrosi also wrote a section on the Rhetoric and the Poetics, see Harvey and Horezky, “From
Translator to Commentator,” 145–6. ⁵ This introduction has been translated in Harvey and Horezky, “Averroes ex Averroe,” 14–17. ⁶ Steven Harvey, “Did Maimonides’ Letter to Samuel Ibn Tibbon Determine Which Philosophers Would Be Studied by Later Jewish Thinkers?” The Jewish Quarterly Review 83 (1992), 53.

-’     

27

Hebrew.⁷ Aside from these texts, lemmata from Ibn Rushd’s so-called “long commentaries” (i.e., commentaries that explain Aristotle’s text ad litteram) were also translated together with the commentaries themselves.⁸ Usually, however, Ibn Rushd’s so-called “middle commentaries” took the place of Aristotle’s texts and were considered faithful representations of his thought.⁹ In attaching material gathered from the philosophical tradition to Ibn Rushd’s middle commentaries, Todrosi’s work can therefore
be seen as part of an intellectual environment that studied Aristotelian philosophy through already existing Hebrew translations of the commentary tradition, most notably Ibn Rushd’s aforementioned paraphrasing explanations.¹⁰ Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology is unusual in that he divides each
section for which there exists a literal commentary into two parts. In his overall introduction to the logical section of his work, Todrosi explains
that, in the first part, he aims at listing passages that are insightful in themselves rather than only in relation to certain passages from Aristotle’s treatises or Ibn Rushd’s explanations of them. The second part, in contrast, contains passages that clarify the intention of Aristotle’s texts and can be hence used for elucidating Ibn Rushd’s explanations of them. The translations that are included in the second part are usually attached to a short quotation taken from the Hebrew translations of Ibn Rushd’s middle commentaries.

⁷ Samuel Ibn Tibbon (d. 1232) produced the Meteorology. For an edition of this work see Resianne Fontaine, Otot ha-Shamayim: Samuel Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew version of Aristotle’s Meteorology (Leiden: Brill, 1995). Zerahya : ben Isaac (d. after 1291) translated the De generatione et corruptione and the De anima. For the edition of the former, see Andrea Tessier, La traduzione arabo-ebraica del De generatione et corruptione di Aristotele (Rome: Accademia nazionale dei Lincei, 1984); for the latter, see Gerrit Bos (ed.). Aristotle’s De Anima Translated into Hebrew by Zerahyah ben Isaac ben Shealtiel Hen :
(Leiden: Brill, 1994). ⁸ These included the Posterior Analytics, the Physics, the Metaphysics, as well as the de anima, which was translated from Latin. ⁹ On this, see also Steven Harvey, “On the Nature and Extent of Jewish Averroism: Renan’s Averroès et l’averroïsme Revisited,” Jewish Studies Quarterly 7 (2000), 114. ¹⁰ The Hebrew translations of Ibn Rushd’s middle commentaries on the extended Organon were carried out in three phases: The commentaries on Porphyry’s Isagoge, Categories, De Interpretatione, and Prior and Posterior Analytics were carried out by Jacob Anatoli between 1230 and 1250; the commentaries on Topics and Sophistical Refutations by Qalonymos ben Qalonymos by 1313; and Todrosi himself completed this series by translating Ibn Rushd’s
commentaries on the Rhetoric and the Poetics by 1337. See the list and analysis in Gorgoni, La traduction hébraïque du Commentaire Moyen, 60.

28      This overall methodology is mentioned again both in the beginning and at the end of the first part of the section on dialectic. Todrosi
introduces it as follows: Our intention in this treatise, i.e., the Book of Dialectic (sefer ha-nis: s:uah), : is to collect the individual comments [lit: particulars of the intentions] on the matters that we promised to collect in each of the treatises on logic as a whole. We achieve our intention in this treatise in two parts, according to the intention that we promised, God willing. Amen and amen.¹¹

At the end of this first part, Todrosi also mentions the treatises from
which he translates passages into Hebrew in order to include them in his anthology. He concludes: The translation is hereby completed of the individual comments [lit. of the particulars of the intentions of the matters] from the books of the commentator Abū Nas: r [al-Fārābī that are] in his explanation of the Topics (beʾuro le-sefer ha-nis: s: uah) : and his commentary on its eighth book (perishato le-maʾamar ha-shemini mimeno), that we saw fit to collect. The second part follows it, according to the intention that we promised, God willing. Amen.¹²

Hence, in accord with the methodology outlined in his overall introduction, in the first part of the section dedicated to dialectic, Todrosi
translates passages from al-Fārābī’s Kitāb al-Jadal (here called beʾur sefer ha-nis: s: uah) : and his commentary on Topics book VIII (here called perisha le-maʾamar ha-shemini).¹³ In the second part, Todrosi explicitly


¹¹ MS British Library Add. 27559, 67r4–8. ¹² MS British Library Add. 27559, 75r15–20 (and 75v1–5, where it is repeated). ¹³ Al-Fārābī’s Kitāb al-Jadal has been edited most recently by Dominique Mallet in La Dialectique Dans La Philosophie d’Abū Nas:r al-Fārābī, Ph.D. dissertation, vol. 2 (Université Michel-de-Montaigne (Bordeaux 3), 1992), 19–198. Mauro Zonta, “Three New Fragments of a Paraphrase of Aristotle’s Topics Ascribed to Themistius in Medieval Hebrew Translation,” in J. Brumberg-Chaumont (ed.), Ad notitiam ignoti: L’Organon dans la translatio studiorum à l’époque d’Albert le Grand (Turnhout: Brepols, 2013), 217–23, argues that the section dealing with the Topics also includes three references to Themistius.

-’     

29

mentions only al-Fārābī’s second treatise, his commentary on Topics book VIII. In accordance with his overall methodology, his translations are, with a couple of exceptions, attached to short quotations from Ibn Rushd’s Middle Commentary on the Topics, quoted in the Arabic-intoHebrew translation of Qalonymos ben Qalonymos of Arles (d. after 1328), which he composed in 1313, the year that Todrosi was born.¹⁴
Adding up both parts of the section dedicated to dialectic (see Fig. 3.1), the translations from al-Fārābī’s commentary on the eighth book of the Topics amount to around 75 percent of the entire section on dialectic. These translations are almost equally distributed over the two parts into which Todrosi divides the section.¹⁵ His Hebrew translations from al
Fārābī’s Kitāb al-Jadal, which amount to only around 5 percent of the section on dialectic, are all included in the section’s first part and mostly comprise definitions and distinctions of technical terms.¹⁶ Finally, the remaining roughly 20 percent can be considered lemmata taken from Ibn

Contrary to Zonta’s analysis, we understand the words he reads as a corruption of Themistius’s name to be variations of the Aramaic expression de-saleq min, which can be used in Talmudic literature and commentaries to refer to what has been concluded. Moreover, on other occasions, Todrosi renders Themistius’s name recognizably. For
Todrosi’s use of Themistius in general, see Shalom Rosenberg and Charles H. Manekin,
“Themistius on Modal Logic: Excerpts from a Commentary on the Prior Analytics Attributed to Themistius,” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 11 (1988), 83–103, and by the same authors “Japheth in the Tents of Shem: Themistius’ Commentary on the Analytica Prioria” (Heb.), Jerusalem Studies in Jewish Thought 9 (1990), 267–74. ¹⁴ Moritz Steinschneider, Die Hebräischen Übersetzungen des Mittelalters und die Juden als Dolmetscher (Berlin: Kommissionsverlag des Bibliographischen Bureaus, 1893), 62. For the sake of context, all the lemmata from Ibn Rushd’s middle commentary are identified, edited, and translated. On one occasion, in Fragments XXVII [31₂], the translation is lacking an introductory lemma from Ibn Rushd’s middle commentary and picks up a theme from the previous comment. All the translations that are found in Todrosi’s second
part are meant to elucidate sections from the third part of Ibn Rushd’s commentary, which is introduced by the lemma “The account on part three, according to our arrangement, containing book eight of Aristotle’s treatise,” MS British Library Add. 27559, 85v11. This refers to the beginning of the third part of Ibn Rushd’s Middle Commentary on the Topics. On this, see the discussion in Fragment III [20₂], note 44. As opposed to what is indicated by Zonta, “Fonti antiche e medievali,” 559, this is not a third part in Todrosi’s section on
the Topics, but the beginning of the third part of Ibn Rushd’s paraphrase (dealing with Topics VIII) which still belongs to Todrosi’s second part.
¹⁵ Fragments [1]–[19] belong to the first part, while Fragments [20]–[33] belong to the second. ¹⁶ The passages Todrosi includes from al-Fārābī’s Kitāb al-Jadal are listed in Zonta, “Fonti
antiche e medievali,” 557–8 and edited by Yehuda Halper and Gadi Weber on the website of Modular Hebrew Digitally Rendered Texts (Mahadurot, found on www.mahadurot.com, consulted in August 2021).

30     

Al-Fārābī’s Commentary on Topics VIII Al-Fārābī’s Kitāb al-Jadal Todrosi’s comments (incl. lemmata from Ibn Rushd's middle commentary) .

Fig. 3.1 The section on Dialectic in Todros Todrosi’s Philosophical

Anthology

Rushd’s middle commentary and Todrosi’s own attempts to explain
them, and are all found in the section’s second part. Todrosi’s mostly
very short explanations are either commenting on passages from the second part of Ibn Rushd’s middle commentary (dealing with the material of Topics II–VII) or on its third part (dealing with the material of Topics VIII).¹⁷ Todrosi’s own scholarly notes identify references to
Aristotle’s texts or discuss problems related to Ibn Rushd’s text and Qalonymos’ translation of it.¹⁸ On one occasion, Todrosi also reports a


¹⁷ These mostly short explanations are (i) 87v18–19, (ii) 88r11–90v7, (iii) 91r16–20, and (iv) 91v5–93v15. According to Zonta, “About Todros Todrosi’s Medieval Hebrew Translation,” 43, “these quotations might have been taken either from the complete, more detailed Long Commentary on that part of the Topics, or even from the shorter ‘gloss-commentary.’ ” Zonta, who in the quotation even refers to a broader section, namely 88v1–93v14, bases his claim partly on the fact that Todrosi closes the entire section with a reference to al-Fārābī on fol. 93v15–17.
In our view, this is not decisive, because Todrosi could also refer to the entire section of the
Topics in which he draws on al-Fārābī’s work. Since Todrosi does not mention al-Fārābī’s name
in his usual manner, we consider these explanatory notes to be Todrosi’s.
¹⁸ For the former, see Fragment XXI [16₁] and for the latter, Fragment XV [28₂]. In this instance, Todrosi uses al-Fārābī’s commentary to fill a lacuna in Ibn Rushd’s text. The comment
appears as part of the edition as it is necessary to understand the reference to al-Fārābī’s commentary. Similarly, in Fragment XVII [29₂], the context in which al-Fārābī’s commentary appears is a problem in Qalonymos’ translation (possibly based on a problem in the Arabic from which it is translated).

-’     

31

gloss found in the margins of the manuscript from which he was translating al-Fārābī’s commentary.¹⁹

c. Al-Fārābī’s Commentary on the Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics When Todrosi names the treatise whose fragments are presented in this
article, he uses the expressions “long commentary”²⁰ (ha-perisha haarukka), simply “commentary”²¹ (perisha), or, in one case, “the eighth book of Abū Nasr’s : commentary on the Topics”²² (ha-maʾamar ha-shemini le-perishat Abū Nasr : le-sefer ha-nis:sua : h). : There does not seem to be good reason to doubt that all of these expressions refer to a literal commentary, as Todrosi uses them to refer to such texts on other occasions.²³
The lists of al-Fārābī’s treatises provided in the bio-bibliographical literature include two possible candidates for the source text of Todrosi’s
translations: (i) Commentary on the Second and Eighth Book of Aristotle’s Topics, and (ii) Topics taken from the Eighth Book on Dialectic.²⁴ In a preliminary study of the material that is presented in this article, Mauro Zonta argued that Todrosi may have translated from both of these
treatises by al-Fārābī. In support of this thesis, he intimates that Todrosi
refers to the second treatise listed above, at the end of the second part of his section on the Topics,²⁵ where Todrosi writes as follows:
¹⁹ See Fragment XIII [25₂] and the discussion in Alexander Lamprakis and Daniel Davies, “Delineating Dialectic: The Perfect Philosopher in al-Fārābī’s Commentary on Topics VIII 1,” Studia Graeco-Arabica 11 (2021), 23. ²⁰ This expression appears in Fragments III [20₂], IX [21₂], XI [23₂], and XXI [16₁]. ²¹ This expression appears in Fragments I [1₁], II [2₁], IV [15₁], V [3₁], XIII [25₂], XVII [29₂], XXVI [30₂], XXVII [31₂], XXIX [17₁], XXXI [33₂], and XXXIII [19₁]. ²² This expression appears at the beginning of Fragment V [3₁]. ²³ Todrosi also uses the term ‘commentary’ (perisha) to refer to al-Fārābī’s literal commen
tary on Aristotle’s De Interpretatione in MS British Library Add. 27559, 1v14 and to Ibn Rushd’s long commentary on Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics on fol. 23r22. ²⁴ For the latest survey of the bio-bibliographical literature see Mallet, La dialectique dans la philosophie d’Abū Nas: r al-Fārābī, vol. 1, 30–1. The Arabic of these two titles is (i) Sharh: almaqāla al-thāniya wa-l-thāmina min kitāb al-jadal li-Arist:ūt:ālīs and (ii) Kitāb al-mawādiʿ : almuntazaʿa mina l-maqāla al-thāmina fī l-jadal. ²⁵ Zonta, “About Todros Todrosi’s Medieval Hebrew Translation,” 37, and 43: “These quotations [i.e., 29–34, authors] might have been taken either from the complete, more detailed Long Commentary on that part of the Topics, or even from the shorter ‘gloss-commentary.’ The latter hypothesis might be suggested by what Todros Todrosi states at the end of these quotations, where he concludes the third section of his work on the Topics ( . . . ).”

32      Here, the translation of the grains of the most important sayings (gargarey roʾsh amir amirot) of the commentator Abū Nas: r from the eighth book of his commentary on Aristotle’s Topics has been completed.²⁶

The implication is that “the grains of the most important sayings” amounts to a treatise that Zonta calls a shorter “gloss-commentary,” and which corresponds to the above-mentioned second title. It seems more likely, however, that Todrosi is using this expression to summarize
his own practice of selecting what he considered to be the most important passages. This claim is supported by how he describes his enterprise in the introduction to the logic of his anthology, when he explains that he aims “to compile and copy what is new and most useful in these lengthy books.”²⁷ It is also indicated by the fact that Todrosi uses the same
expression in other places, such as in the section dedicated to Porphyry’s Isagoge, prior to a translation from Avicenna’s Kitāb alMadkhal.²⁸ In light of Todrosi’s explicit references to a literal commen
tary and the fact that the fragments gathered in this article display the characteristics of such a work, all of them can be therefore confidently identified as stemming from al-Fārābī’s literal commentary on the eighth book of Aristotle’s Topics. There are nonetheless two qualifications that have to be made: Firstly, the bio-bibliographical literature mentions al-Fārābī’s commentary on the final book of the Topics together with a commentary on its second book, but none of the fragments in Todrosi’s Philosophical Anthology
appear to come from a commentary on that book, nor are such fragments yet identified in other treatises. Secondly, all of the fragments included in the Philosophical Anthology appear to belong either to a general introduction to the final book of the Topics or to its first four chapters, that is, to roughly only a third of its entire content (i.e., from

²⁶ MS British Library Add. 27559, 93v15–17, tr. Zonta, in “About Todros Todrosi’s Medieval Hebrew Translation,” 43, slightly modified. ²⁷ MS British Library Add. 27559, 1r8–9, trans. Harvey and Horezky, “Averroes ex Averroe,” 14. ²⁸ MS British Library Add. 27559, 2r18, where he uses the expression “the grains of the fruit of the most important sayings.”

-’     

33

Top. VIII 1, 155b3 to ca. VIII 4, 159a24), while Todrosi’s section on
dialectic seemingly attempts to cover Ibn Rushd’s middle commentary in its entirety.²⁹ Therefore, one needs to bear in mind that al-Fārābī’s commentary may itself have covered only a part of Topics VIII, that it could have covered more but reached Todrosi only partially, or that
Todrosi might have neglected a significant amount of it when consulting
it for his Philosophical Anthology. The style of Todrosi’s translation appears to confirm statements of
previous studies that he is generally following the terminology and methodology of the Ibn Tibbon family, the famous Provençal translators of Arabic texts, as he himself states in the introduction to his translation of Ibn Rushd’s Middle Commentary on the Rhetoric.³⁰ Accordingly, his translations are characterized by a relatively high degree of literalism that contributes to the impression of what is termed “Arabicized Hebrew,” which became a part of Hebrew literature in the wake of the Arabic-intoHebrew translation movement of the time.³¹ In the absence of the Arabic source text, further conclusions about the translation style displayed in these fragments must be tentatively drawn. Nevertheless, observations made on the basis of Todrosi’s translations of other works were taken
into account in the English translation. Such observations include evidence that, for example, despite his literal style, Todrosi also sometimes
uses a single Hebrew word for multiple Arabic terms, as Gabriella Elgrably-Berzin has shown for his translations from Avicenna’s Kitāb al-Najāt, or different Hebrew terms for a single Arabic word.³² Additionally, to the extent possible, Todrosi’s translations of related
²⁹ The final lemma of the section on dialectic is Ibn Rushd, Middle Commentary on the Topics, 248.4–5: ( . . . ) min annahu naqīd: fiʿl muʾallif al-qiyās. For the Hebrew, see Par. BnF, héb. 932, 99v18 (which has ha-yoter for soter) and Mün. BSB, Cod. Hebr. 26, 402v2–3. The last explicit mention of al-Fārābī appears on fol. 91v5 (Fragment XXXI [33₂]), two folios before Todrosi’s section on dialectic ends.
³⁰ On his introduction, see Gorgoni, La traduction hébraïque, 68. For the Ibn Tibbon family, see James T. Robinson, “The Ibn Tibbon Family: A Dynasty of Translators in Medieval ‘Provence,’ ” in J. M. Harris (ed.), Beʾerot Yitzhak: Studies in Memory of Isadore Twersky (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2005), 193–224. ³¹ Elgrably-Berzin, Avicenna in Medieval Hebrew Translation, 99 notes Todrosi’s literalism
in his translations of Avicenna, even characterizing his work as “subservient to the original Arabic.” ³² Elgraby-Berzin lists a number of such cases in Todrosi’s translation of Avicenna’s Kitāb al
Najāt in Avicenna in Medieval Hebrew Translation, 127–30.

34      texts were also consulted and, together with evidence from al-Fārābī’s wider corpus, contribute to reconstructing the Arabic terminology found in the glossary. The accompanying English translation aims primarily at communicating the content. The structure of the Hebrew and Todrosi’s style are therefore not preserved in cases in which they would hinder readability and intelligibility.

d. Presentation and Order of the Fragments The aim of this article lies in gathering and presenting the extant fragments of al-Fārābī’s commentary on Topics book VIII. Todrosi’s
translations are therefore enumerated in the order in which they relate to Aristotle’s text. This order is reconstructed on the basis of textual references to Aristotle’s Topics or of a correspondence between the contents of the primary text and al-Fārābī’s commentary. The order in which they appear in Todrosi’s section on dialectic is indicated by
bracketed Arabic numerals, the subscript indicating whether they are found in the section’s first or second part. The introductory lemmata from Ibn Rushd’s Middle Commentary on the Topics are identified on the basis of the Arabic edition by Charles E. Butterworth and Ahmad ʿAbd al-Majīd Harīdī and two of the extant : manuscripts of Qalonymos ben Qalonymos’ Hebrew translation.³³ In all cases, the criterion for identifying fragments of al-Fārābī’s commentary is an explicit mention of his name either at the beginning or end of the translated passage (or sometimes both) and the consideration that the passage is not taken from his Kitāb al-Jadal.³⁴ All fragments included in this article are considered to be authentic, given the stylistic similarity to other extant commentaries by al-Fārābī, the terminological and doctrinal harmony with other of his extant treatises, and the typically Farabian

³³ These two manuscripts are Paris, BnF, héb. 932 and München, BSB, Cod. Hebr. 26. ³⁴ Applying this method, we do not consider some of the passages that Zonta, “About Todros Todrosi’s Medieval Hebrew Translation,” 42–3 previously identified as parts of the commentary to be derived from al-Fārābī. These are (i) 87v18–19, (ii) 88r11–90v7, (iii) 91r16–20, and (iv) 91v5–93v15. We assume that they are Todrosi’s own explanations, but more research is
needed on this question.

-’     

35

themes that are found in most of them. Together with presenting these fragments, we hope this article will also contribute to the growing appreciation and increasing understanding of Todros Todrosi as a trans

lator of Arabic philosophy.³⁵ Bar Ilan University Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München / Julius-Maximilians-Universität Würzburg

³⁵ For many helpful comments and suggestions, as well as for constant encouragement, we would like to express our gratitude first and foremost to Steven Harvey. For helpful comments and suggestions, we would like to thank Peter Adamson, Francesca Gorgoni, Oded Horezky, Yoav Meyrav, and two anonymous reviewers. We would also like to thank Yehuda Halper and Charles H. Manekin for inviting us to present a paper related to this research at the IIAS Research Group Conference Aristotelian Logic in Medieval Jewish Culture, Reception and Impact, June 2–4, 2019 at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and Bar-Ilan University in Ramat Gan, Tel Aviv. For carefully proofreading the manuscript, we would like to thank Nicolas Payen and Sarah Virgi.

‫‪36     ‬‬

‫‪2. Edition of the Text³⁶‬‬ ‫]פתיחה לטוביקה ח[‬ ‫קטע א ]‪ [11‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪1(67:1–23‬‬ ‫]‪67‬ב[ אמר אבונצר‪ :‬הנצוח הוא ההלצה אשר יכוון בה בטול מונח או קיומו או שמירתו‪.‬‬ ‫וההלצה אמנם תסודר בשני דברים‪ :‬אחד מהם בענינים אשר יעשו בהלצה והשני באיכות‬ ‫העשות אותם הענינים והסדרתם במקומותיהם‪ .‬והענינים אשר ]‪ [5‬יעשו הם דומים לחמרים‬ ‫והחלקים‪ ,‬ואיכות העשותם והסדרתם דומה לצורה‪.‬‬ ‫והמאמרים השבעה מזה הספר יכללו על שהם הצעות ודומים לחמרים אל ההלצה הנצוחית‪.‬‬ ‫וכבר נמנו על שהם מוכנים לכשתהיה בהם ההלצה הנצוחית מבלתי שיודע איך יעשו בהלצה‪10 ,‬‬ ‫ואנה יסודר אחד אחד מהם‪ ,‬ועם אי זו הלצה יעשה כל אחד מהם‪.‬‬ ‫]‪ [10‬ואשר יעשו בזאת ההלצה הוא ההקש והחפוש והקדמות ההקש והחפוש‪ .‬והם המקומות‬ ‫שבהם יהיו ההקדמות‪ ,‬כי המקומות הם אם ההקדמות ואם הגבולים האמצעיים‪ .‬ואלו‪ ,‬ר׳׳ל‬ ‫הגבולים האמצעיים וחלקי ההקדמות‪ ,‬לא ימנעו שיהיו אם סוגים או גדרים או סגולות או‬ ‫מקרים ומה שירוץ מרוצת כל אחד מהם‪ .‬ואלו לא ימנע כל אחד ]‪ [15‬מהם מאשר יהיו בקצת ‪15‬‬ ‫המאמרות העשרה‪ .‬הנה אם כן ההלצה הנצוחית‪ ,‬חמריה וחלקיה‪ ,‬קצת אלו אשר מנינו אותם‪.‬‬ ‫ואולם הכלים אשר נזכרו במאמר הראשון‪ ,‬הנה הוא מבואר שאין אחד מהם חלק הלצה ולא‬ ‫נעשה בהלצה‪ .‬ואמנם הם כלים יגיעו בהם מוכנים בהלצה הנושאים והחלקים‪ .‬ובכלל‪ ,‬דברים‬ ‫אשר הם מוכנים לשיעשו ]‪ [20‬בהלצה הנצוחית דרכם שיקדם המאמר בם‪ .‬עוד אחרי כן יודיע‬ ‫איך העשות אותם ואיך הסדרתם עד שתגיע מהם ומאיכות העשותם ההלצה הנצוחית‪ .‬וזה ‪20‬‬ ‫בשמיני מזה הספר‪ ,‬ולזה היה אותו המאמר אחרון זה הספר‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר בפרישתו‪.‬‬ ‫‪5‬‬

‫קטע ב ]‪ [12‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(67:23–68.15‬‬ ‫הנה אין ראוי ]‪68‬א[ שתהיה ההלצה הנצוחית איך שהזדמנה ובאי זה דבר הזדמן‪ ,‬אבל יצטרך‬ ‫האדם שיפנה בה מול הפעלות אשר יכוון בה ההתגברות‪ .‬וזה כמו הנהגת הצבא‪ ,‬כי מנהיג‬ ‫‪³⁶ The edition is based on the single MS British Library Add. 27559. Throughout the manuscript,‬‬ ‫‪there are marginal notes, and interlinear corrections. These corrections seem to have been made by‬‬ ‫‪two different scribes, as one set of notes appears in a darker ink and different hand-writing. The other‬‬ ‫‪set are corrections made to his own work by the scribe who copied the manuscript. Given that both‬‬ ‫‪the scribe and the second hand may have consulted other manuscripts, their corrections and‬‬ ‫‪comments are listed in the edition’s apparatus, although they may not always report variant readings.‬‬ ‫‪Some of the deletions are indicated in the manuscript by crossings out and some simply by a line‬‬ ‫‪above or below a word. Of the latter kind, it is not always certain that one of them should be deleted.‬‬ ‫‪Uncertain readings are indicated by a question mark. The sigla that are used are as follows: T = text of‬‬ ‫= ‪the MS BL Add. 27559; corr.¹ = corrections that are likely made by the manuscript’s scribe; corr.²‬‬ ‫‪corrections that are likely made by a second hand. A period between the folio and the line number‬‬ ‫‪(“.”) indicates the recto side of the folio, and a colon (“:”) its verso side. Triangular brackets (< . . . >) are‬‬ ‫‪used for indicating that the text should be amended. The orthography of the Hebrew is reproduced as‬‬ ‫‪faithfully as possible and has not been adjusted to standard Hebrew.‬‬ ‫‪ 21‬אותו ‪ [ corr.²‬לית ‪T‬‬

‫‪37‬‬

‫‪-’     ‬‬

‫הצבא‪ ,‬כמו שהוא ראוי שידע מי הוא אשר ילחם עמו‪ ,‬ועל אי זה מדינה יכוין התגברותה‪ ,‬ובאי‬ ‫זה כלי זין נשק וצבא ]‪ [5‬ילחם‪ ,‬ויצטרך שידע גם כן מהמלך שילחם עמו איך שמירתו ומנהגו‬ ‫ויכלת צבאו‪ ,‬החזק הוא הרפה‪ ,‬והמדינה שיכוין לכבשה‪ ,‬הבמחנים אם במבצרים‪ ,‬וידע נשק‬ ‫הצבא וכלי זיינם עליהם‪ .‬כן ההלצה הנצוחית ראוי שידע השואל מהמשיב אי זה איש הוא‪ .‬כי מן‬ ‫המשיבים מי שהוא בוטח נפשו בעצמו‪ ,‬ומהם מי שהוא מספק בעצמו בכל דבר‪ [10] .‬ומהם מי ‪5‬‬ ‫שהוא זך השכל‪ ,‬מהיר ההבנה‪ ,‬ישקיף המתחיב במהירות‪ ,‬ומהם מי שהוא בושש ומתוני‪ .‬ומהם‬ ‫בעל התנועה ומהם הבקיא‪ .‬וכמו כן יצטרך לשואל שידע המונח שיכוין בטולו כי מהם קלי‬ ‫הבטול ומהם קשי הבטול‪ .‬וכמו כן ראוי שידע באי זה דבר יבטלהו אם בהקש ואם בחפוש‪.‬‬ ‫ויצטרך שידע השואל עם זה באי זה דבר ישמור המשיב ]‪ [15‬מונחו ואיך תהיה השמירה‪ .‬כה‬ ‫‪10‬‬ ‫אמר אבונצר בפרישתו‪.‬‬ ‫קטע ג ]‪ [220‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(85:10–86.5‬‬ ‫]‪” [10‬המאמר בחלק השלישי כפי סדורנו והוא אשר יכללהו המאמר השמיני מספר ארסטו‪“.‬‬ ‫אמר טודרוס טודרוסי‪ ,‬אמר אבו נצר בפרישתו הארוכה לזה המאמר‪ :‬זה המאמר מדרגתו‬ ‫שיהיה אחר כל מאמרי זה הספר‪ ,‬לפי שכל מה שקדם הוא הצעות ]‪ [15‬ונושאים למה שבזה‬ ‫המאמר‪ .‬כי מלאכת הנצוח כמו שקדם היא ההלצה אשר יכוין בה בטול מונח או קיומו‪.‬‬ ‫‪15‬‬ ‫וההלצה אמנם תחובר בשני דברים‪ .‬האחד בענינים אשר ישתמשו בם בהלצה‪ ,‬והם דומים‬ ‫בחמרים והחלקים‪ .‬והשני איכות העשות אותם הענינים וסדורם במקומותיהם‪ ,‬והם דומים‬ ‫בצורה‪ .‬והמאמרים הקודמים הם הצעות‪ [20] ,‬ודומים בחמרים להלצה הנצוחית‪ ,‬וזה המאמר‬ ‫דומה לצורה‪.‬‬ ‫]‪86‬א[ וזה המאמר יחלק לשני חלקים‪ .‬הראשון יבאר בו איך השאלה‪ ,‬ואיך יעשה השואל כל ‪20‬‬ ‫מה שקדם ויסדרהו‪ ,‬עד שתחובר בו הלצת השואל‪ .‬והשני יבאר בו איך התשובה‪ ,‬ואיך יעשה מה‬ ‫שקדם ויסדרהו‪ ,‬עד שתחובר בו הלצת המשיב‪ .‬ויחתום זה המאמר בצואה ]‪ [5‬משותפת לשואל‬ ‫ולמשיב יחד‪.‬‬ ‫קטע ד ]‪ [215‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(72.2–73.1‬‬ ‫ת‬ ‫ע‬ ‫י‬ ‫ד‬ ‫י‬ ‫ה‬ ‫נ‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ש‬ ‫א‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ש‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ד‬ ‫ת‬ ‫ש‬ ‫‪,‬‬ ‫ת‬ ‫י‬ ‫ח‬ ‫ו‬ ‫צ‬ ‫נ‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ה‬ ‫צ‬ ‫ל‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ל‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ת‬ ‫ל‬ ‫יחויב תחלה‪ ,‬כשתהיה מכוין שיהיה לך יכ‬ ‫‪25‬‬ ‫המקומות אשר מהם ילקחו הטענות על מונח מונח והם אשר קדם זכרם‪ .‬ושנית ]‪ [5‬שתדע איך‬ ‫יוכנו אותם הדברים והמקומות להליץ בהם‪ ,‬ותדע עם זה אנה יונח כל אחד מהם בהלצה‪.‬‬ ‫ושלישית‪ ,‬והוא הנשאר בכאן‪ ,‬שתדע איך תליץ לזולתך‪ ,‬ושהוא ראוי שתליץ לזולתך ]א[ בדברים‬ ‫תגלם אליו ]ב[ ובדברים תקשט ותיפה הלצתך בהם ]ג[ ובדברים יעלם בהם למי שתליץ אליו‬ ‫מכוונך עד שלא ישמר ויקבל ממך מה שתבקש ]‪ [10‬ממנו‪ .‬ולזה חויב להקדים המקומות ‪30‬‬ ‫והדברים הנזכרים עם המקומות‪ .‬עוד אחרי כן‪ ,‬ידבר בסדור וידבר באיך יחויב שתהיה ההלצה‬

‫‪ 4‬השואל ‪ [ corr.¹‬השואל מהמשאיל ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 9‬ואיך תהיה השמירה ‪ [ corr.²‬לית ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 15‬כי ‪ [ corr.²‬לית ‪T‬‬

‫‪38     ‬‬ ‫בדברים אשר ראוי להם שיסודרו בזה הסדור‪ .‬ויהיה מאמרו זה יכלול בו סדורי הדברים אשר‬ ‫קים אותם בספרו זה‪ ,‬ובאר שהמקומות דרכם שיקדם סדורם‪ .‬עוד אחרי כן יודיע הכנתם נכח‬ ‫ההלצה והסדרתם ]‪ [15‬ושלישית יודיע איך תליץ לזולתך‪.‬‬ ‫וזה כלו דומה למה שעשאו בספר ההלצה‪ ,‬כי הוא שם הסדור וחבור הדברים אשר תהיה בהם‬ ‫ההלצה ההלציית בראשית ספרו‪ .‬ואיך ראוי שתהיה פתיחת ההלצה‪ ,‬או דבר אחר ממה שדרכו‬ ‫שיליץ בו ההלצי‪ ,‬ובאי זה דבר ראוי שיחתום המאמר‪ ,‬ואיך ראוי שתהיה הפתיחה‪ ,‬ואיך הספור‬ ‫]‪ [20‬ומה מדרגתו‪ ,‬וכמו אלו הדברים‪ ,‬באחרית ספרו‪.‬‬ ‫ואולם הדברים אשר תהיה בהם ההלצה ההלצית בכלל הנה הוא השימם במאמר הראשון‬ ‫ובשני‪ .‬וזה שהוא זכר ההמשל ומיניו‪ ,‬והסמן ומיניו‪ ,‬ומיני הדברים אשר תהיה בהם ההלצה‬ ‫ההלציית‪ ,‬והמקומות אשר ייחדו ]‪72‬ב[ מין מין מהם‪ ,‬והם אשר קראם המינים‪ ,‬והמקומות אשר‬ ‫יכללו מיני הדברים אשר בהם תהיה ההלצה‪ ,‬והם אשר ייחד אותם בשם המקומות‪ ,‬ושאר מה‬ ‫שדומה לזה‪ ,‬הנה הוא זכרו בשני המאמרים אשר לפני השלישי‪ .‬ואולם איך צד העשות כל אחד‬ ‫]‪ [5‬מהם‪ ,‬ואיך ראוי שתהיה המליצה מכל אחד מהם‪ ,‬הנה זכרו בחלק הראשון מן המאמר‬ ‫השלישי‪.‬‬ ‫וארצה באיכות העשותם כמו שאנחנו כאשר רצינו לנצל ליסטיס אחד‪ ,‬נחפוץ להושיעו‪ ,‬נמיר‬ ‫מקום אמרנו ליסטיס שהוא מתחבל להקנות‪ ,‬ושבני אדם כבר יתחבלו למחיתם בפנים שונים‬ ‫לפעמים יפל מקצתם נזק ]‪ [10‬על זולתם מבני אדם‪ .‬וכפי זה המשל‪ ,‬כשרצינו הפך זה ונחפוץ‬ ‫להתרעם ממי שהפליג בשמירת דבר‪ ,‬יכוין אליו שלא נקראהו מפליג אבל נמיר אצל התרעומת‬ ‫מקום המפליג המלסטיס או המעול‪.‬‬ ‫וכמו כן אצל השבח ואצל הגנות‪ ,‬כי כמו אלו הם איכות העשות הענינים‪ ,‬ותנצל מהם או בהם‬ ‫או נתרעם מהם או בהם‪ [15] .‬כי הוא במאמר הראשון מההלצה אמנם זכר שתרעומת אמנם‬ ‫יהיה מלסטיות ועול‪ ,‬וזכר מיני העול ולא יזכור איך העשות כל אחד מהם אצל התרעומת‪,‬‬ ‫ואמנם איך העשות כל מה שקדם בשני המאמרים הראשון והשני‪ .‬וזכר סדור המאמרים‬ ‫ההלציים‪ ,‬וסדור המקומות אשר ראוי שיסודר בם כל דבר‪ ,‬ואיך ההלצה ]‪ [20‬בהם‪ ,‬אם אצל‬ ‫השאלה והתשובה ורמיזת ההכלמה במאמר אצל המחלקת או אצל ) ‪ ( . . .‬אצל מי שיטה אוזן‬ ‫לא למחלקת‪ .‬וזה הדרך דרך גם כן בספר הנצוח‪ .‬ואלה הדברים כיון לבארם במאמר אשר‬ ‫השימו פתיחת המאמר השמיני מטוביקי‪73] .‬א[ כה אמר אבונצר בפרישתו‪.‬‬

‫‪5‬‬

‫‪10‬‬

‫‪15‬‬

‫‪20‬‬

‫‪25‬‬

‫קטע ה ]‪ [13‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(70.3–10‬‬ ‫המאמר השמיני מפרישת אבונצר לספר הנצוח‪ [5] :‬מקומות ההגדרה לא אמנם יתכנו לנצוח‬ ‫לבד‪ ,‬אבל ובפלוסופיה‪ .‬וככה מקומות החיובים כי הם מקומות מופתיים‪ .‬ואשר ייחס הנצוח הם ‪30‬‬ ‫כמו מקומות ה’יותר ראוי‘ וה’יותר ראשון‘ ומקומות ה’הדמות‘ ומקומות ה’חסרון‘ וה’תוספת‘‬ ‫וה’שמושים‘ וה’דמיונים‘‪ ,‬כי אלו אי אפשר שיעשו במופתים‪ .‬ויקראו כלם מקומות נצוחיים אחר‬ ‫]‪ [10‬שהם כלם מוכנים לצד הנצוח‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר בפרישתו‪.‬‬ ‫‪ 1‬סדורי ‪ [ T‬מדרגות ‪corr.²‬‬ ‫‪ 3‬יודיע ‪ [ corr.¹‬תודיע ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 6‬ראוי ‪ [ corr.¹‬ראוי שיאמר ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 6‬שיחתום ‪ [ corr.¹‬שיחתום בו ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 8‬אשר תהיה בהם ההלצה ההלצית ‪ [ corr.²‬אשר בהם ההלצה ההלצית תהיה ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 25‬אצל ‪ . . .‬אצל ‪lac‬‬

‫‪39‬‬

‫‪-’     ‬‬

‫קטע ו ]‪ [14‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(70.11–13‬‬ ‫ההלצה הנצוחית אמנם היא בהקש או חפוש או מה שיעזור בהם‪ .‬וההלצה ההלצית בסמנים‬ ‫והמשלים ומה שיעזור עליהם‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫קטע ז ]‪ [15‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(70.13–18‬‬ ‫וההפרש ביניהם שההלצית כבר תהיה בשאלת אחד ותשובת אחר‪ ,‬וכבר תהיה במאמר נעשה‬ ‫ארוך או קצר‪ [15] ,‬מסודר באזני השומעים מבלתי שיהיה האומר שואל והשומע משיב‪ ,‬אבל‬ ‫יעשה אצל האזהרה או לשבח מי שיליץ אליו ודומה אלו‪ .‬ואולם הנצוחית הנה תהיה לעולם‬ ‫בשאלת אחד ותשובת אחר‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫קטע ח ]‪ [16‬פתיחה לטוביקה ח )‪(70.18–23‬‬ ‫ועוד‪ ,‬שההתגברות המכוון בנצוח אמנם יסודר מדברים אמתיים לא מדברים נחשבים‪ ,‬ר׳׳ל‬ ‫שיחשב היותם אמתיים ]‪ [20‬ואינם‪ .‬ולזה היתה מלאכת הנצוח היא התגברות באמת‪ ,‬ובדברים‬ ‫דרכם שיהיה בהם ההתגברות‪ .‬ואולם הנצוח אשר לפעמים יכוון במלאכת ההלצה הנה היא‬ ‫כבר תהיה בשני הפנים יחד‪ ,‬ר׳׳ל במחשבה ובאמת‪ ,‬ולזה היתה ההלצה משתתפת להטעאה‬ ‫ומשתתפת לנצוח‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫]פירוש לטוביקה ח‪:‬א[‬

‫‪5‬‬

‫‪10‬‬

‫‪15‬‬

‫קטע ט ]‪ [221‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(86.5–11) 155b3–4, I‬‬ ‫”אמר וכבר יתכן )‪’ “.(. . .‬יתכן‘ ירצה בו לפעמים מה שדרכו שיהיה ומה שבטבעו ועצמותו‬ ‫שיהיה כן‪ ,‬כאמרנו ’האבן יתכן שתתנועע למטה‘‪ .‬ולפעמים ירצה בו שהוא יהיה יותר ראוי‬ ‫ושהוא יאות כמדרגת אמרנו כמו ש’יתכן להקביל פניו‘ ונרצה בו שייטב ויהיה נאה‪ .‬וכבר נרצה‬ ‫בו שהוא יחויב‪ [10] ,‬וזה ירצה בו ’כבר יתכן‘ ’כבר יחויב‘‪ .‬אלה הם דברי אבונצר‪ ,‬העתיקתים אני ‪20‬‬ ‫טדרוס טדרוסי מפרישתו הארוכה לזה המאמר‪.‬‬ ‫קטע י ]‪ [222‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(86.12–16) 155b3–4, II‬‬ ‫”) ‪ ( . . .‬שנדבר בסדור‪ “.‬וה’סדור‘ על צדדים רבים‪ :‬יהיה במקום ויהיה בזמן וכבר יהיה כפי ענין‪.‬‬ ‫ובכלל‪ ,‬הנה הסדור יהיה בדברים אשר תהיה בם קדימה ואיחור‪ ,‬וכפי צדדי הקודם והמתאחר‬ ‫יהיה ]‪ [15‬הסדור‪ .‬ורצה בסדור הנה סדור חלקי ההלצה הנצוחית‪ ,‬כפי מליץ מליץ וכפי מונח ‪25‬‬ ‫מונח וכפי ענין ענין מעניני דבור המליץ וכפי המכוון בהלצה‪ ,‬והוא ההתגברות‪ .‬גם אלה דברי‬ ‫אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫קטע יא ]‪ [223‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(86.16–87.1) 155b4–7‬‬ ‫”ותחלת מה שיחויב על השואל )‪ “.(. . .‬יחויב לשואל‪ ,‬בכונו לשאול במונח מה‪ ,‬שיבקש מזה‬ ‫המונח המקום שממנו יתכן שיביא בטענה שתקימהו ]‪ [20‬או תבטלהו‪ ,‬ויעשה זה בינו לבין ‪30‬‬ ‫עצמו‪ ,‬כמו כשירצה לשאול האם התענוג טוב אם אין‪ ,‬כי תחלה יחויב לו שיבקש אי זה מקום‬ ‫‪ 7‬אלו ‪ [ T‬לו )?( ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 19‬יאות כמדרגת אמרנו ‪ [ corr.²‬יאות באמרנו ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 26‬מונח ‪ [ edd.‬ומונח ‪T‬‬

‫‪40     ‬‬ ‫מהמקומות שנמנו במה שקדם ראוי שיהיה המקום שממנו תלקח הטענה על אם התענוג טוב‬ ‫אם אין‪ .‬וזה שיעין אם הטוב מקרה נשוא או סוג או סגלה או גדר‪86] .‬ב[ וזה שיעין בדבר דבר‬ ‫מאותם המקומות אי זה מהם ימצא לנושא השאלה והוא ה’תענוג‘ או לנשואה והוא ה’טוב‘‪.‬‬ ‫ונבקש זה ממקום ההגדרה‪ .‬ונקח הבדלי הטוב ונגדרהו ש’הוא ישתוקקוהו הכל‘‪ .‬אחר נעין האם‬ ‫זה נמצא לתענוג ויסבול שני ענינים‪ ,‬ש’התענוג ישתוקקהו כל חי‘ ו’מה שישתוקקהו ]‪ [5‬הכל הנה‬ ‫הוא טוב‘‪ .‬ויגיענו באלה ההקדמות המפורסמות ש’התענוג טוב‪‘.‬‬ ‫ונבקש זה גם כן במקום הראשון‪ ,‬והוא מקום החלוקה‪ ,‬ונחלק התענוג למיניו כמו תענוג הראות‬ ‫והשמע והריח והטעם והמשוש‪ .‬ונמצא מתענוגי הממושש מה שאיננו טוב‪ ,‬ונאמר ’הממושש‬ ‫תענוג‘ ו’תענוג הממושש איננו טוב‘‪ .‬ויחובר בשלישית ויוליד ש’אין כל תענוג טוב‪‘.‬‬ ‫ותביט ]‪ [10‬זה בעצמו במקום התוספת והחסרון‪ .‬ונמצא התענוג כשנוסף על הטוב השיבו נוסף‬ ‫טוב‪ ,‬ומה שישיב הטוב נוסף הנה הוא טוב‪ .‬ויהיה התענוג טוב‪ .‬ונביט הטובות כשלא יהיה‬ ‫עמהם תענוג היו חסרות טוב‪ ,‬ומה שחסר הטוב בהסרתו הוא טוב‪’ .‬התענוג‘ אם כן ’טוב‘‪ .‬ונביט‬ ‫זה במקום הפועל ונמצא התענוג ]‪ [15‬כשקנאו האדם לא יפעל בו טוב‪ ,‬והטוב כשקנאו אדם‬ ‫יפעל בו טוב‪ .‬יחויב בשנית ש’התענוג איננו טוב‪‘.‬‬ ‫וכפי זה‪ ,‬יבוקש בכל הנחת מונחת מקומות מהם תלקח הטענה בקיומו ובבטולו‪ .‬ורצונו ב’טענה‘‬ ‫ההקש הנצוחי‪ .‬עוד אחר זה‪ ,‬יכין אלו הדברים בינו לבין עצמו לשאלה ויסדר כל הקדמה מאלו‬ ‫ההקדמות אשר מצאם במקום אשר יתכן שיסדרם בו‪ ,‬וזה כפי המונח וכפי המשיב‪ .‬הנה זה דבר‬ ‫יעשהו ]‪ [20‬בינו לבין עצמו קודם שיליץ בו זולתו‪ .‬עוד אחר זה‪ ,‬יליץ זולתו בכל אלו הדברים‬ ‫אשר הכינם בעצמו‪ .‬והלצתך זאת תהיה בדברים תבארם לו ובדברים תקשט ותיפה הלצתך בם‬ ‫ובדברים תעלים בם מכוונך עד שלא ישמר ויקבל דרושך‪ .‬אלה הם דברי אבונצר העתקתים אני‬ ‫טדרוס ]‪87‬א[ מפרישתו הארוכה‪.‬‬

‫‪5‬‬

‫‪10‬‬

‫‪15‬‬

‫‪20‬‬

‫קטע יב ]‪ [224‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(87.1–12) 155b7–8‬‬ ‫”והפלוסוף והנצוחי ישתתפו בחקירה )‪ “.(. . .‬אמר טדרוס טדרוסי‪ ,‬אמר אבונצר אלפראבי‪:‬‬ ‫יסבול שהוא רצה בפלוסוף המעין בנמצאות מצד מה שהם נמצאות בדרכים המופתיים‪ ,‬כי בזה‬ ‫ישוה לנצוחי‪ .‬וישתתף לפי שעיונו עיון משותף בנמצאות ]‪ [5‬מצד שהם נמצאות‪ ,‬כי הוא לא יעין ‪25‬‬ ‫בנמצא שהוא הרבה לבד‪ ,‬כלמודים‪ ,‬ולא בנמצא הטבעי זולת המלאכותי‪ ,‬אבל יעין בכלם ויעשה‬ ‫אצל עיונו בם הקדמות מפורסמות‪ .‬והמעין בדברים שיעין בם הנצוחי ויעשה בעיינו בם‬ ‫המופתים הוא הפלוסוף במוחלט‪ .‬ואולם המעיין בלמודים לבד או בחכמה הטבעית לבד‬ ‫איננו פלוסוף במוחלט ואינו שוה לנצוחי‪ [10] .‬וישתתפו בידיעה ממקומות זה הספר מה שהיה‬ ‫מפורסם צודק‪ ,‬כי הפלוסוף יעשם מצד שהם צודקים והנצוחי מצד שהם מפורסמים‪ .‬גם אלה ‪30‬‬ ‫דברי אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫‪ 1‬על אם ‪ [ corr.²‬אם על ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 10‬התוספת ‪ [ corr.¹‬התוספת בעצמו ‪T‬‬ ‫‪ 11‬שישיב ‪ [ corr.¹‬שהשיב ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x26‬לבד ‪ [ edd.‬לבדו ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x26‬ויעשה ‪ [ corr.¹‬ויעשה בעיונו ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x29‬בידיעה ממקומות ‪ [ edd.‬בידיעת ממקומות ‪ [ corr.¹‬בידיעת למקומות ‪T‬‬

‫‪41‬‬

‫‪-’     ‬‬

‫קטע יג ]‪ [225‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(87.12–18) 155b9–10‬‬ ‫”) ‪ ( . . .‬ואמנם הסדור והשאלה הנה ייחדו הנצוחי‪ “.‬אמר אבונצר אלפראבי בפרישתו‪ :‬הודיע‬ ‫בזה שמה שבזה המאמר הוא המיוחד בזאת המלאכה‪ ,‬זולת מה שקדם‪ ,‬ושמה שקדם ]‪[15‬‬ ‫ישותפו בו שתי מלאכות‪ .‬וכבר ראוי שנחקור ממאמרו כי ידומה ממנו שהסדור והשאלה לא‬ ‫יעשם הפלוסוף‪ ,‬ומבואר שהפלוסוף כבר יעשה ההלצה ללמוד ולסתירת המאמרים הכוזבים ‪5‬‬ ‫והנסיון‪ ,‬ויצטרך אצל הלמוד או הנסיון אל סדור‪.‬‬ ‫והתשובה שהסדור והשאלה הם חלק הכרחי במלאכת הנצוח עד שאם לא יהיו לא תגיע‬ ‫מלאכת הנצוח‪ .‬וישות ]‪ [20‬מלאכת הנצוח מציאותו שיהיה לבעליה כח על הסדור ועל השאלה‪.‬‬ ‫והפלוסופיה איננה כן‪ ,‬כי הפלוסוף הוא פלוסוף בידיעה המגעת לו‪ ,‬ואם לא יהיה לו כח על למוד‬ ‫זולתו או לא יהיה לו כח על סתירת ]‪87‬ב[ המאמרים הכוזבים או אם לא יהיה לו כח לנסות ‪10‬‬ ‫זולתו באותה המלאכה‪ ,‬כי הפלוסופיה אין אחד מחלקיה ההכרחיים הכח על סתירת הדעות‬ ‫הכוזבות‪ .‬כי האדם כשהגיעו לו הדעות הצודקות במלאכה וידעם הוא פלוסוף‪ ,‬ואם לא יהיה לו‬ ‫כח סתירת הדעות הכוזבות‪ .‬וכמו כן ]‪ [5‬הוא פלוסוף ואם היה זולתו ממי שיעיין באותה‬ ‫המלאכה שלם בה או חסר‪ .‬והוא גם כן פלוסוף ואם לא יראה חסרון זולתו או שלמותו‪ .‬והוא גם‬ ‫כן פלוסוף ואם לא יעמיד החסר באותה המלאכה על חסרונו‪ .‬כי אלה אינם מן הדברים אשר ‪15‬‬ ‫בהם קיום הפלוסופיה ולא בשיהיה הפלוסוף פלוסוף‪ .‬אבל היכלת על אלו הדברים הוא ענין‬ ‫משובח לפלוסוף‪ ,‬כמו הנוי אשר יהיה ]‪ [10‬בחי‪ ,‬כי אם לא יהיה לפלוסוף לא יבטל פלוסופיותו‬ ‫כמו שהחי אם לא יהיה נאה לא יבטל חיוניותו אבל יהיה חי שלם במה שהוא חי או במה שהוא‬ ‫עצם מתנשם מרגיש‪.‬‬ ‫קטע יד ]‪ [226‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(87:12–18)155b10–16‬‬ ‫”) ‪ ( . . .‬אם לא יקבלם מזולתו‪ “.‬הפלוסוף הנה הוא בעל המופת ר׳׳ל בעל המלאכות המופתיות‪,‬‬ ‫והוא יעשה הקשים מהקדמות ידועות לו ידיעת עצמו לא לקוחות מזולתו‪ [15] .‬ואולם הנצוחי‬ ‫הוא מי שיעשה הקדמות לקוחות מזולתו‪ ,‬מזולת שיהיה לו בם ידיעת עצמו‪ ,‬כי הנצוחי וההטעאי‬ ‫וההלצי והשירי ישתתפו בשיעשו הקדמות אינם ידועות להם אבל לקוחות מזולתם‪ .‬גם אלה‬ ‫‪25‬‬ ‫דברי אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫‪20‬‬

‫קטע טו ]‪ [228‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(88.1–10) 155b20–25‬‬ ‫”) ‪ ( . . .‬מהעשות ההקדמות החצוניות והם הקדמות מחוץ )‪ “.(. . .‬אין ספק אצלי שבכאן חסרון‬ ‫והוא ראוי להיות כן‪” :‬מהעשות ההקדמות החיצוניות ויש הקדמות אחרות חיצוניות‬ ‫והם הקדמות וכו׳‪ “.‬ואולם הורוני זה דברי אבונצר בפרישתו‪ [5] .‬וזה שלשון הפלוסוף הוא על‬ ‫‪30‬‬ ‫דבר זה כן‪” :‬ומה שזולת זה מן ההקדמות אין ראוי שיעשה דבר מהם‪“.‬‬

‫‪x15‬על ‪ [ corr.²‬או ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x24‬ישתתפו בשיעשו ]כשיעשו)?([ הקדמות ‪ [ corr.²‬ישתתפו בהקדמות ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x30‬כן ‪ [ corr.²‬לית ‪T‬‬

‫‪42     ‬‬ ‫ופרש אבונצר‪ :‬ירצה מה שזולת הארבע הנזכרות מן החיצוניות; וזה שההקדמות החיצוניות‬ ‫אינם אלו הארבע לבד אבל בכאן הקדמות אחרות יוצאות חוצה להכרחיות‪ ,‬יעשו בהלצה‬ ‫ההלצית‪ ,‬והקדמות בלתי הכרחיות‪ ,‬יעשה בהלצה ההטעאית‪ .‬והודיע ]‪ [10‬שאלו אין ראוי לעשות‬ ‫מהם דבר בהלצה הנצוחית‪.‬‬ ‫קטע טז ]‪ [227‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(87:20–88.1) 155b29–38‬‬ ‫]‪ ( . . . )” [20‬בתכלית הפרסום )‪ “.(. . .‬ירצה שלא תהיה ההקדמה שירצה השואל לתתה למשיב‬ ‫מפורסמת כל הפרסום‪ ,‬אבל תהיה בצד שלא יגונה למשיב הכחשתה וימצא לעצמו התנצלות‬ ‫בצד מה בשימנע מקבלתה‪ .‬ולא יבטח השואל שימנע המשיב מלקבלה‪ ,‬ויעשה בטוח לעצמו‬ ‫בשלא ]‪88‬א[ ישאל תחלה ממנה‪ .‬כה דבר אבונצר‪.‬‬

‫‪5‬‬

‫קטע יז ]‪ [229‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(88:17–21) 156b4–9‬‬ ‫”) ‪ ( . . .‬ושהוא ממי שלא יספק בו )‪ “.(. . .‬זהו לשון הפלוסוף‪ :‬והטעם שהמשיב ידומה לו‬ ‫שהשואל יבחר היושר ושהמשיב הוא ממי שלא יספק בדמיון זה‪ .‬ולשון אבונצר בפרישתו הוא‬ ‫זה‪ :‬והסבה בזה שהמשיבים כבר ירוץ מנהגם אצל השואל מנהג מי שלא יסופק לו שהוא כיון‬ ‫בטול מונחו‪.‬‬

‫‪10‬‬

‫קטע יח ]‪ [17‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(70:1–15) 156b10–17‬‬ ‫]‪70‬ב[ לפעמים לא יקרה בדבר אחד שיעשה בבאורו דרך החפוש ודרך ההדמות יחדו‪ ,‬ויעשה‬ ‫בו דרך ההדמות‪ .‬והסבות המכריחות עשית דרך ההדמות זולת החפוש שלשה‪ :‬אם בסבת‬ ‫המלאכה ואם בסבת מי שיליץ ואם בסבת הענין עצמו‪.‬‬ ‫אולם בסבת המלאכה וזה שמלאכת ההלצה ]‪ [5‬לא יעשה בה דרך החפוש בדבר כלל‪ .‬ואם‬ ‫הזדמן שהיה זה הדבר ענין יעשה החפוש לבארו הנה זה הדבר‪ ,‬כאשר לוקח במלאכת הנצוח‪20 ,‬‬ ‫נעשה בבאורו החפוש‪ ,‬וכאשר לוקח במלאכת ההלצה‪ ,‬נעשה בו דרך ההדמות‪.‬‬ ‫ואולם בסבת מי שיליץ שלפעמים יהיה מליץ מי שלא יגיע עדין כח ציורו לדבר שישער על ציור‬ ‫הדבר המשותף זולת שיעמיד בנפשו קצת ]‪ [10‬חלקי זה המשותף‪ ,‬ויהיה ההכרח העשות עמו‬ ‫דרך ההדמות בדבר שדרכו שיעשה בו עם מי שהוא חזק ציור יותר ממנו דרך החפוש‪.‬‬ ‫ואולם בסבת הענין עצמו שלפעמים היה הענין המשותף נעלם מאד בעצמו‪ ,‬העלם אי אפשר ‪25‬‬ ‫עמו שיצויר אלא עם חלקיו‪ ,‬או יהיה הכולל אין שם לו‪ ,‬כפי מה שיאמר אחר זה‪ ,‬ולזה יהיה דרך‬ ‫זה ]‪ [15‬הענין שלא יעשה בו החפוש אבל ההדמות‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫‪15‬‬

‫קטע יט ]‪ [18‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(70:16–17) 157a7–8‬‬ ‫החפוש הוא הדרך המתחיל מן הענינים החלקיים אל הענינים הכוללים‪ ,‬ולא אשר יתחיב ממנו‬ ‫יתחיב בהכרח‪ .‬כה אמר אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫‪30‬‬ ‫‪x20‬הנה זה הדבר כאשר לוקח במלאכת הנצוח ‪ [ corr.²‬במלאכת הנצוח ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x21‬ההדמות ‪ [ corr.²‬הקדמות ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x23‬בנפשו ‪ [ corr.²‬בעצמו ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x24‬בדבר ‪ [ corr.¹‬בדבר בדבר ‪T‬‬ ‫‪x25‬העלם ‪ [ corr.²‬העלם עם ‪T‬‬

‫‪43‬‬

‫‪-’     ‬‬

‫קטע כ ]‪ [19‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(70:18–71.1) 157a8–13‬‬ ‫אמר ארסטו‪ :‬פעמים נחלק הנשוא בחלוקה‪ ,‬כמו אמרנו ’המקבילות אם היתה ידיעתם אחת‬ ‫האין‘‪ .‬הידיעות מהם עיוניות ]‪ [20‬ומהם מעשיות ומהם פעוליות‪ .‬ופרש אבונצר בידיעה העיונית‪,‬‬ ‫הידיעה בדברים אשר אין דרכם שיפעלם אדם ברצון כלל‪ .‬וירצה במעשית הידיעות‬ ‫אשר יקיפו על הפעלות ההוות מן המדות‪ .‬וירצה בפעוליית הידיעה בפעולות ההוות מן ‪5‬‬ ‫המלאכות‪71] .‬א[ כה אמר אבונצר‪.‬‬ ‫קטע כא ]‪ [116‬טוביקה ח‪:‬א ‪(73.1–74:21) 157a14–15, I‬‬ ‫ידמה שיהיה הצרך אל שער החקויים במלאכת הנצוח בפרט‪ ,‬לפי שההלצה הנצחית‪ ,‬למה‬ ‫שהיתה‪ ,‬כבר תהיה בדברים יקיפו עליהם ידיעות עיוניות‪ ,‬דרך אותם הדברים אצל מה שירצה‬ ‫באורם שיעשו בם צדדי הלמוד‪ [5] ,‬והיו צדדי הלמוד אי אפשר שיעשו בהלצה הנצוחית‪ .‬הצטרך‬ ‫באותם הדברים שיפורשו ויצוירו בנפש המשיב בדברים אשר ידמום דמוי מפורסם ויקריבו‬ ‫צורותיהם בנפשות מצורות הדברים אשר הם אצל ההמון יותר ידועות‪ ,‬עד שיבינם מי שלא‬ ‫הרגיל שיבין הדבר על דרך הלמוד והלמידה‪ .‬ויהיו אלו החקויים ]‪ [10‬יעמדו בנצוח בהבנת הדבר‬ ‫מקום צדדי הלמוד במופת‪ ,‬עד שישימו הדברים העמוקים מהדברים העיוניים בצורת מה שהוא‬ ‫מפורסם עד שאפשר שישתמש עם הנצוחיים‪.‬‬ ‫ועם זה‪ ,‬כי מלאכת הנצוח לא אמנם תעשה עם הנצוחיים ומי שיכוין ההרגל לבד‪ ,‬אבל גם עם‬ ‫ההמון‪ ,‬ולזה יחויב שתהינה עם בעל הנצוח הקדמות ]‪ [15‬ידמה בהם הרבה מהדברים העמוקים‬ ‫בנפשות ההמון‪ ,‬וישמום אצלם בצורות הדברים המפורסמים‪ .‬ולזה הוכרח לזכור הקדמות יגלו‬ ‫הדבר זה המין מההגלות‪ .‬ושם זה שני דברים‪ ,‬אחד מהם ה’משלים‘ ואחד ה’דמויים‘‪ ,‬ובקצת‬ ‫הנסחאות מקום ה’דמויים‘ ה’חידות‘‪ .‬אם ה’משלים‘ הנה הוא רצה בהם חלקיי הכולל ]‪ [20‬אשר‬ ‫ממנו ישאל השאול‪ .‬משל זה מה שעשאו זנין בשאלותיו בתנועה‪ ,‬כי שאלותיו הארבעה עשה‬ ‫בהרבה מהן תמורת המתנועע על המוחלט חלקיי המתנועעים‪.‬‬ ‫מהם שאלת החץ‪ ,‬כי הוא אמר‪ :‬כאשר היה החץ המושלך אצל הליכתו באויר הוא כל עת‬ ‫ב’עתה ]‪73‬ב[ מן הזמן ‘‪ ,‬וה’עתה‘ בלתי מתחלק‪ ,‬והבלתי מתחלק הנה אי אפשר שיתנועע בו החץ‪.‬‬ ‫הנה החץ אם כן המושלך אצל הליכתו באויר בלתי מתנועע‪ .‬וכמו כן השאלה הידועה באחילוס‪,‬‬ ‫כי הוא לקח תמורת המתנועע המהיר התנועה מאד אחילוס ]‪ [5‬הקל המרוצה ותנועת המתנועע‬ ‫המאוחר מאד הסלחפאה >טארטוגאה בלע׳ומשיחה במשיחה