The Seven Vices and Fifty Subvices of Medieval Christianity

Tree of Vices” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 25v

AS  a previous post on the Seven Virtues and Fifty Subvirtues of Medieval Christianity is one of the most oft-visited here, it seems fitting to supply a sequel on vices and subvices.  Joint diagrams of virtues and vices are found in many medieval manuscripts.  The closest we have to a text source is De fructus carnis et spirits, a work of the 11th century, today tentatively attributed to Conrad of Hirsau  (c. 1070 – c .1150) and previously to Hugh of St. Victor (c. 1096 –1141).

An important patristic source for the medieval diagrams is Gregory the Great’s Moralia in Job, 31.xlv.87−88. Spencer (2014, 177 f.; cf. Straw, 2005, 38 f.) lists the vices/subvices as found both in Gregory and Cassian. Medieval tree diagrams are fairly consistent concerning the vices, but variation exists in subvices (these vary in number from 48 to 52; again we’ll just say roughly 50).

Just as the virtues and subvirtues are rooted in Humility, the vices and subvirtues derive from a common parent, Pride (superbia).

We should not look at these vices and subvices as mere historical curiosities.  They have modern relevance at the level of practical cognitive psychology: each corresponds to a significant form of negative thinking common to us all,  which we need to overcome.  There is considerable interest in the application of ancient Stoic virtue ethics to modern life.  The patristic and medieval literature on the virtues and vices is an extension (and arguably more refined version) of Stoic moral psychology and ought to interest us at least as much.

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I. VAINGLORY (vana gloria)

1. Hipocrisy (hypocrisis)
2. Disobedience (inobedientia)
3. Boasting (lactantia)
4. Presumption (praesumptionis)
5. Arrogance (arrogantia)
6. Talkativeness (loquacitas)
7. Obstinacy (pertinacia)

II. ENVY (invidia)

1. Hatred (odium)
2. Envying others’ good fortune (afflictio in prosperis)
3. Exulting in others’ adversity (exsultatio in adversis)
4. Malice (malitia)
5. Detraction (detractio)
6. Bitterness (amaritudo)
7. ‘Whispering’ (susurratio); “by which, either by a hiss of hateful flattery or contempt, one is roused to the hatred of the other.”

II. ANGER (ira)

1. Accusation (clamor)
2. Blasphemy (blasphemia)
3. Insult (contumelia)
4. Mourning or dwelling on an injury by another (luctus)
5. Reckless outburst (temeritas)
6. Fury (furor)
7. Indignation (indignatio)

IV. SADNESS (tristitia)

1. Despair (desperatio)
2. Rancor (rancor)
3. Mental torpor (torpor)
4. Fear and anxiety (timor; menti fluctuans angustia)
5. Acidie (acidia)
6. Complaint (querela)
7. Pessimism (pusillanimitas)

V. AVARICE (avaritia)

1. Love of money (philargyria)
2. Perjury (perjurium)
3. Violence (violentia)
4. Usury (usura)
5. Fraud (fraus)
6. Robbery (rapina)
7. Deceit (fallacia)

VI. GLUTTONY (Ventris ingluvies)

1. Drunkenness (ebrietas)
2. Overeating (crapula)
3. Dulness of sense and in understanding (mentis hebetatio)
4. Laziness (languor)
5. Delicacy of appetite; desire for delicious foods beyond one natural needs (delicatio)
6. Disregard of health (oblivio)

VII. LUST (Luxuria)

1. Voluptuous pleasure (voluptas)
2. Lewdness (lascivia)
3. Languid rejection of virtue (ignavia)
4. Rash, consuming desire (petulantia)
5. Weakness of spirit or body given over to indulgence (titubatio)
6. Enticement (blanditiae)
7. Excessive sensual delight (deliciae)

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Bibliography

Bliss, James and anonymous (trs.). St. Gregory the Great: Morals on the Book of Job. Three vols. Library of the Fathers. Oxford, 1844−1850. Book 31.

Bloomfield, Morton. The Seven Deadly Sins: An Introduction to the History of a Religious Concept, with Special Reference to Medieval English Literature. East Lansing, 1952; repr. 1967.

Goggin, Cheryl Gohdes. Copying manuscript illuminations: The Trees of Vices and Virtues. Visual Resources, 2004, 20:2-3, 179−198. https://doi.org/10.1080/0197376042000207552

Hugo de S. Victore (attr.). De fructibus carnis et spiritus. J. P. Migne. Patrologia Latina, Paris, 1854; cols. 997−1010 (rough diagrams of the Tree of Vices and Tree of Virtues appear at the end of the work).  Latin text is online: http://mlat.uzh.ch/?c=2&w=HuDeSVi.DeFrCaE

Katzenellenbogen, Adolf. Allegories of the Virtues and Vices in Medieval Art from Christian Times to the Thirteenth Century. Alan J. P. Crick (tr.). London: Warburg Institute, 1939.

Kerns, Brian (tr.). Gregory the Great: Moral Reflections on the Book of Job. Six vols. Liturgical Press, 2014−2022. (English translation of Latin critical edition.)

Mews, Constant J. (ed.). Listen, Daughter: The “Speculum virginum” and the Formation of Religious Women in the Middle Ages. The New Middle Ages Series. Palgrave, 2001.

Newhauser, Richard G. In the Garden of Evil: The Vices and Culture in the Middle Ages. Toronto, 2005.

Robertson, D. W. The Doctrine of Charity in Mediaeval Literary Gardens: A Topical Approach through Symbolism and Allegory. Speculum, vol. 26, no. 1, 1951, pp. 24–49. Reprinted in: Robertson, Durant Waite. Essays in Medieval Culture. Princeton University Press, 1980 (repr. 2014); pp. 21−50.

Powell, Morgan. Gender, Reading, and Truth in the Twelfth Century: The Woman in the Mirror. Arc Humanities Press, 2020.

Straw, Carole E. Gregory and Cassian on the cardinal vices. In: Richard G. Newhauser (ed.), In the Garden of Evil: The Vices and Culture in the Middle Ages, Toronto, 2005, pp. 35−58.

Tucker, Shawn R. The Virtues and Vices in the Arts: A Sourcebook. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2015.

Young, Spencer E. Scholarly Community at the Early University of Paris: Theologians, Education and Society, 1215–1248. Cambridge University Press, 2014; Ch. 5, Parisian theologians and the seven deadly sins. (pp. 168−207).

Watson, Arthur. The Speculum Virginum with special reference to the Tree of Jesse. Speculum, vol. 3, no. 4, 1928, pp. 445–69.

Wenzel, Siegfried. The Seven Deadly Sins. Speculum 43, 1968, 1−22.

Art: “Tree of Vices” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 25v; early 13th century manuscript from the Cistercian abbey of Himmerode, Germany.

Thomas Browne − Soul Illimitable

 

Frontspiece, Religio Medici (1642)

THIS Neoplatonism-themed passage from the Religio Medici of Sir Thomas Browne (1605–1682) caught my attention unexpectedly while researching another topic.  Especially as it relates to the subject of the greatness of the human soul — a topic of much interest to me — I thought I should share it.

Now for my life, it is a miracle of thirty years, which to relate, were not a history, but a piece of poetry, and would sound to common ears like a fable. For the world, I count it not an inn, but a hospital; and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is myself; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on: for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round sometimes for my recreation. Men that look upon my outside, perusing only my condition and fortunes, do err in my altitude; for I am above Atlas’s shoulders. The earth is a point not only in respect of the heavens above us, but of that heavenly and celestial part within us. That mass of flesh that circumscribes me limits not my mind. That surface that tells the heavens it hath an end cannot persuade me I have any. I take my circle to be about three hundred and sixty. Though the number of the ark do measure my body, it comprehendeth not my mind. Whilst I study to find how I am a microcosm, or little world, I find myself something more than the great. There is surely a piece of divinity in us; something that was before the elements, and owes no homage unto the sun. Nature tells me, I am the image of God, as well as Scripture. He that understands not thus much hath not his introduction or first lesson, and is yet to begin the alphabet of man. Let me not injure the felicity of others, if I say I am as happy as any. Ruat cœlum, fiat voluntas tua, salveth all; so that, whatsoever happens, it is but what our daily prayers desire. In brief, I am content; and what should providence add more? Surely this is it we call happiness, and this do I enjoy; with this I am happy in a dream, and as content to enjoy a happiness in a fancy, as others in a more apparent truth and reality. There is surely a nearer apprehension of anything that delights us in our dreams, than in our waked senses. Without this I were unhappy; for my awaked judgment discontents me, ever whispering unto me that I am from my friend, but my friendly dreams in the night requite me, and make me think I am within his arms. I thank God for my happy dreams, as I do for my good rest; for there is a satisfaction in them unto reasonable desires, and such as can be content with a fit of happiness. And surely it is not a melancholy conceit to think we are all asleep in this world, and that the conceits of this life are as mere dreams, to those of the next, as the phantasms of the night, to the conceit of the day. There is an equal delusion in both; and the one doth but seem to be the emblem or picture of the other. We are somewhat more than ourselves in our sleeps; and the slumber of the body seems to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation of sense, but the liberty of reason; and our waking conceptions do not match the fancies of our sleeps. At my nativity, my ascendant was the earthly sign of Scorpio. I was born in the planetary hour of Saturn, and I think I have a piece of that leaden planet in me. I am no way facetious, nor disposed for the mirth and galliardise of company; yet in one dream I can compose a whole comedy, behold the action, apprehend the jests, and laugh myself awake at the conceits thereof. Were my memory as faithful as my reason is then fruitful, I would never study but in my dreams, and this time also would I choose for my devotions: but our grosser memories have then so little hold of our abstracted understandings, that they forget the story, and can only relate to our awaked souls a confused and broken tale of that which hath passed. Aristotle, who hath written a singular tract of sleep, hath not methinks thoroughly defined it; nor yet Galen, though he seems to have corrected it; for those noctambulos and night-walkers, though in their sleep, do yet enjoy the action of their senses. We must therefore say that there is something in us that is not in the jurisdiction of Morpheus; and that those abstracted and ecstatick souls do walk about in their own corpses, as spirits with the bodies they assume, wherein they seem to hear, see, and feel though indeed the organs are destitute of sense, and their natures of those faculties that should inform them. Thus it is observed, that men sometimes, upon the hour of their departure, do speak and reason above themselves. For then the soul begins to be freed from the ligaments of the body, begins to reason like herself, and to discourse in a strain above mortality.

Source: Henry Craik, ed.  English Prose. Vol. II. Sixteenth Century to the Restoration. Sir Thomas Browne: The Soul Illimitable. 1916.

Reference

Browne, Sir Thomas. Religio Medici. London, 1682.

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St. Augustine: The Utility of Belief

Fra Angelicao, The Conversion of St. Augustine (c. 1430−1435)

DEAR Philonous, 

I had promised to deliver to you this week an explanation of St. Augustine’s lesser-known but valuable work, De utilitate credendi.  I was prepared today to write my summary, but now find my mind agitated by a change in weather (an unseasonably warm, ‘Santa-Ana’ like wind). Rather than abandon my plan completely, though, I’ll attempt to accommodate Fate (a tactic which, when employed, sometimes reveals Fate to be Providence). Thus, while I am no fan of stream-of-consciousness style writing — but ,rather, tend to the oppose extreme of obsessive perfectionism — I will allow myself to experiment with the former this time.

Here, then, are a series of thoughts I had during today’s walk. I will write these directly, without adding substantially to them, however great the temptation may be to do so.  Hopefully posting these brief comments will help motivate a few people to read the work, so that Augustine can explain his points better than I can.

Augustine in this short book addresses those who are at point in their life where they genuinely seek wisdom and true religion.  He is not interested in those for whom these topics are mere curiosities or diversions.

Adapting his thesis to a modern audience, it is: That people — at least those in the West — should not avoid investigating Christianity.  This investigation may be done in an experimental way:  that is, one may test the waters, so to speak, without making any immediate and permanent commitment. However this initial experiment must be done in a sincere and ‘charitable’ way. By charitable, it is meant that a person should, in case of questionable teachings or, say, puzzling passages of the Bible, be inclined to give the ‘benefit of the doubt.’

Central to his argument is the premise that a person sincerely seeking wisdom and religion recognizes that they are subject to the delusions, follies and vanities of life, and that their own reasoning is subject to corruption by egoism, bias, self-love, and the like.  Not only does this make it difficult to understand true religion without help, but it means one has little ability to distinguish true from false teachers. Therefore it is both prudent and reasonable to seek first sources with good reputations.  Augustine speaks in terms of ‘authoritative sources’ here — but he does not mean by authority that of a policeman or dictator, but rather authority in the sense of having genuine expertise.

What are the signs of a such an authoritative source. He lists several that apply to the Christian Church (broadly defined):

• It’s longevity.
• It’s wide respect and admiration.
• The benevolent actions and intentions of its saints and doctors.
• The courage and determination of its martyrs.

He also lists as potentially relevant evidence miracles.  Modern readers may not accept that part of his argument, but it isn’t really necessary.

Augustine notes that the objection that most Christians themselves lack wisdom and virtue does not affect this argument. In any field of respectable endeavor, only a few gain mastery, yet all respect the field and admire those who do gain mastery. That the ideals of Christianity appeal to the masses, even if they are seldom achieved, is what matters here. It is evidence that Christianity genuinely responds to deep needs of the human condition and resonates with our highest innate ideals.

He also invites us to consider the parallels with authors like Virgil. All people respect these authors and those who study them.  Yet only a minority of people actually read them, and fewer still are able to grasp the fine points of their writings.

In this connection Augustine mentions another interesting and revealing point. If someone were to summarily dismiss Virgil or Homer, or read them with the specific intention of finding fault with them, we would consider that person worthy of blame.  That is, some instinct we have to honor trust sources of antiquity would be outraged.  Augustine does not pursue this point as far as he could, but it is anticipated at some length in the writings of Cicero (one of Augustine’s influences).  Ultimately this argument has roots before Cicero in Stoic philosophy. Human beings are social, communal creatures.  We are designed by nature, as it were, to honor valid traditions.  Those who do not do so — at least not without some good reason — are instinctively disapproved of; and, while perhaps not all instincts are trustworthy or constructive, this one may well be so.

Hence his argument might be succinctly framed as follows:

1. If we are sincerely, urgently, fervently seeking wisdom and religion, we must know that our reasoning and judgment are prone to bias and error.
2. Therefore we cannot attain wisdom and religion by our own reasoning alone.
3. We cannot find a good teacher by relying only on our reasoning.
4. We have little choice, then, but to experiment by investigating the teachings of a trusted, reputable source.
5. To profit from this source, we must approach the teachings charitably — that is, in an experimental way that basically says, “Okay, I’ll go along for now and see where this leads. If insight soon follows, the experiment will be successful. If not, then I will withhold further belief.”
6. That is what we might call experimental credence. It is very different from credulousness or gullibility, things Augustine in no way endorses or advocates.
7. To approach things this way is eminently reasonable. This is what he meant by faith (credence) seeking understanding. This is, in fact, far more reasonable than insisting on radical rationalism at the outset — that is requiring that each article of religion be given a fully rational argument before it is taken seriously.

Augustine is in no way here suggesting that we should just bow down to authoritarian dogma.  That would be insincere and affected.  He does not ask us to be insincere.  Rather, this is about adopting a kind of provisional belief.  Just as when we cross a street, we do not know a car will not come from around a corner and hit us.  We proceed with the ‘faith’ that crossing will be safe.  However we do not commit ourselves to this fixed belief, but remain attentive and ready to change our belief if circumstances so dictate. What he is calling credence is, then, somewhat like a “working hypothesis.”

While he does not say so explicitly, the implication is that we have a natural impulse to believe Christianity (or comparable trusted sources.)  Hence here we are not imposing on ourselves an arbitrary and artificial belief, but rather are permitting ourselves to accede to a natural impulse to provisionally believe.

Finally, although it may be difficult to find a reliable contemporary person to teach Christianity, we have access to the Bible.  We should apply ourselves to its study in the aforementioned spirit of trust and charity, asking such questions as how might this passage apply to my life? or how might I interpret these words in a useful, meaningful and wise way?— and not how may I ridicule or find fault with it? Augustine took it as axiomatic that much of the Bible’s message (especially in the Old Testament) is conveyed by means of allegory.  Passages which seem morally objectionable if taken literally assist us by forcing us to look for symbolic meanings. Having sometimes to struggle to find deeper meanings is consistent with the role of religion in helping us to reform and improve our thinking.

Augustine also places great emphasis on the fact that Christian teaching is open, public, and available to all without charge.  This contrasts with the secrecy of esoteric texts and elite ‘schools’ which promise to deliver subtle wisdom for the right price. Why seek religion at all if we do not believe God is both generous and actively seeks to assist our endeavors?  What could be more evidence of such benevolence and wisdom than by entrusting the teaching of divine truths to an institution like the Christian Church?

Then what are the messages the seeker may hope to find from the Bible?  I would propose to classify these under three headings. (These are my view, that is, and not anything Augustine says directly in the work.)

The first is moral reformation and purification, and the gaining of intellectual and moral virtue.  (This is similar to Stoicism.)

The second is instruction in contemplative ascent of the mind (anagogy; this is similar to Platonism).

Third (this goes beyond Stoicism and Platonism) is achievement of loving union with God and the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and, above all, Charity.

Of course nothing I’ve said here should be understood to dissuade the study of other traditional religions, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism and Islam — or, for that matter, ancient religious and philosophical traditions like Neoplatonism and Hermeticism. At least one source I’ve seen claimed that Augustine himself continued to read Plotinus all his life. Augustine’s main objection to the Manicheans was not so much their wrong doctrines, but that (1) they maligned Christianity and (2) they insisted that rationalism alone is sufficient in religion.

John

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Bibliography

English translations

Burleigh, J. H. S. (tr.). St. Augustine: The Usefulness of Belief (De Utitlitate Credendi). In: J. H. S. Burleigh (ed.), Augustine: Earlier Writings, SCM Press, 1953 (repr. Knox, 2006); pp. 284−323.

Cornish, C. L. (tr). St. Augustine: On the Profit of Believing.  In: Philip Schaff (ed.), Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 3, Buffalo, 1887.

Kearney, Ray (tr.). Saint Augustine: The Advantage of Believing (De utilitate credendi). In: Boniface Ramsey (ed.), The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century, vol. I/8, (On Christian Belief), New City Press, 2005; pp. 116−150.

Meagher, Luanne (tr.). St.Augustine: The Advantage of Believing (De utilitate credendi). In: Ludwig Schopp (ed.), Fathers of the Church, Vol. 4 (Writings of St. Augustine, Vol. 2), New York, 1947; pp. 385−442.

Marriott, Charles (tr.). On the Profit of Believing. In: John Henry Parker (ed.), Seventeen Short Treatises of S. Augustine, Oxford, 1847/1869/1885; pp. 577−618.

Latin editions

Migne J. P. (ed.). Augustinus Hipponensis: De utilitate credendi. Patrologia Latina 42, 65−92. Paris, 1841

Pegon, J. (ed. & tr.). De utilitate credendi. In: Oeuvres de Saint Augustin, 1re série, Opuscules, volume VIII. Bibliothèque Augustinienne (BA) 17, Paris, Desclée de Brouwer, 1951.

Zycha, Joseph (ed.).  S. Aureli Augustini: De utilitate credendi. Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum (CSEL) 25.1. Vienna, 1866.

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Edward Herbert, Conjectures Concerning Heavenly Life

Edward  Herbert  (1583–1648) 

THE eminent metaphysical poet, George Herbert (1593–1633), had an even more famous brother, Edward (1583–1648).  Whereas George lived the life of a simple country parson, Edward was immersed in military and state affairs, first a friend of King James I (for which he was appointed 1st Baron Herbert of Cherbury) and later an opponent.  But like George, he had great literary ability and was deeply pious.  The following poem, composed originally in Latin, is a meditation on the possibility of infinite felicity in heaven, and what that might mean.  The English translation comes from the well-known American Transcendentalist and literary figure, Margaret Fuller (1810–1850; more on her below).  The Latin version can be found in Edward Herbert’s autobiography (ed. Horace Walpole) and his collected poems; links are supplied in the Sources section.

Conjectures Concerning the Heavenly Life (De Vita Cælesti Conjectura)

Purified in my whole genius, I congratulate myself
Secure of fate, while neither am I downcast by any terrors,
Nor store up secret griefs in my heart,
But pass my days cheerfully in the midst of mishaps,
Despite the evils which engird the earth,
Seeking the way above the stars with ardent virtue.
I have received, beforehand, the first fruits of heavenly life—
I now seek the later, sustained by divine love,
Through which, conquering at once the scoffs of a gloomy destiny,
I leave the barbarous company of a frantic age,
Breathing out for the last time the infernal air—breathing in the supernal,
I enfold myself wholly in these sacred flames,
And, sustained by them, ascend the highest dome,
And far and wide survey the wonders of a new sphere,
And see well-known spirits, now beautiful in their proper light,
And the choirs of the higher powers, and blessed beings
With whom I desire to mingle fires and sacred bonds—
Passing from joy to joy the heaven of all,
What has been given to ourselves, or sanctioned by a common vow.
God, in the meantime, accumulating his rewards,
May at once increase our honour and illustrate his own love.
Nor heavens shall be wanting to heavens, nor numberless ages to life,
Nor new joys to these ages, such as an
Eternity shall not diminish, nor the infinite bring to an end.
Nor, more than all, shall the fair favour of the Divine be wanting—
Constantly increasing these joys, varied in admirable modes,
And making each state yield only to one yet happier,
And what we never even knew how to hope, is given to us—
Nor is aught kept back except what only the One can conceive,
And what in their own nature are by far most perfect
In us, at least, appear embellished,
Since the sleeping minds which heaven prepares from the beginning—
Only our labor and industry can vivify,
Polishing them with learning and with morals,
That they may return all fair, bearing back a dowry to heaven,
When, by use of our free will, we put to rout those ills
Which heaven has neither dispelled, nor will hereafter dispel.
Thus through us is magnified the glory of God,
And our glory, too, shall resound throughout the heavens,
And what are the due rewards of virtue, finally
Must render the Father himself more happy than his wont
Whence still more ample grace shall be showered upon us,
Each and all yielding to our prayer,
For, if liberty be dear, it is permitted
To roam through the loveliest regions obvious to innumerable heavens,
And gather, as we past, the delights of each,
If fixed contemplation be chosen rather in the mind,
All the mysteries of the high regions shall be laid open to us,
And the joy will he to know the methods of God,—
Then it may be permitted to act upon earth, to have a care
Of the weal of men, and to bestow just laws.
If we are more delighted with celestial lave,
We are dissolved into flames which glide about and excite one another
Mutually, embraced in sacred ardours,
Spring upwards, enfolded together in firmest bonds,
In parts and wholes, mingling by turns,
And the ardour of the Divine kindles (in them) still new ardours,
It will make us happy to praise God, while he commands us,
The angelic choir, singing together with sweet modulation,
Sounds through heaven, publishing our joys,
And beauteous spectacles are put forth, hour by hour,
And, as it were, the whole fabric of heaven becomes a theatre,
Till the divine energy pervades the whole sweep of the world,
And chisels out from it new forms,
Adorned with new faculties, of larger powers.
Our forms, too, may then be renewed—
Assume new forms and senses, till our
Joys again rise up consummate.
If trusting thus, I shall have put off this mortal weed,
Why may not then still greater things be disclosed?

The poem appears to have never been translated into English before or since Margaret Fuller.  It appeared in an essay titled The Two Herberts, which was originally published in the short-lived literary journal, The Present (1844), and republished in various editions of her collected essays.  The essay is not very well known, but is one of her best.  In it she portrays an imaginary dialogue between George Herbert and Edward.  The dialogue is very engaging.  Instead of both figures merely serving as artificial mouthpieces for the authors own view, here we see two distinct personalities, with important similarities and divergences of thought.  Further, Fuller displays considerable sensitivity to their religious views.  Edward was one of the founders of English Deism, while George was a devout Anglican.  One main disagreement concerns the personal nature of ones relationship with God. The contrast between Edward, a man of action, and George, a pure contemplative, is also highlighted — biographers have noted the similarity here with this split in Fuller’s own personality (she eventually left New England for Italy, becoming active in the revolution there). But arguably the real significance of her essay is its religious dimension.  I could extol its praises and expand on its subtle points, but ultimately it’s a work of art, appreciated more by reading than analyzing it.

Sources

Fuller, Margaret. The Two Herberts.  In: Margaret Fuller, Art, Literature and the Drama, ed. Arthur B. Fuller, Boston, 1874; pp. 25−44. Orig. publ. in The Present, Vol. 1, March 1844, pp. 301−312.

Grey, Robin. Margaret Fuller’s “The Two Herberts,” Emerson, and the Disavowal of Sequestered Virtue. In: The Complicity of Imagination: The American Renaissance, Contests of Authority, and Seventeenth-Century English Culture, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1997; pp. 87−106.

Herbert, Edward. The Life of Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Horace Walpole (ed.).  London: Cassell, 1887; pp. 33−34. (First ed. Strawberry Hill, 1764).

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth. Margaret Fuller Ossoli. Houghton Mifflin, 1890.  Ch. 18. Literary Traits (pp. 281−298).

Smith, George Charles Moore. The Poems of Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923; pp. 103−106.

1st draft: 17 Jan 2021

Christian Platonism as Spirituality


Art: Fyodor Bronnikov, Pythagoreans Celebrate Sunrise, 1869.

FOR some time I’ve hesitated to address the question, ‘What is Christian Platonism?’, believing this is something too important to treat lightly.  Just when it seemed I could delay no longer, W. R. Inge’s book, The Platonic Tradition in English Religious Thought (Hulsean Lectures, 1925−1926), became available online. As Inge’s definition and understanding of Christian Platonism, it turns out, corresponds closely to my own, and also has the imprimatur of a respected authority, let this suffice as a working definition for now.

As Inge explains in the first lecture, the key features of Christian Platonism might be summarized as follows:

• Christian Platonism is, first and foremost, a form of personal spirituality. It is not the abstract application of Platonic philosophy by Christian theologians (whom we might rather call Platonizing Christians).  It is, as Inge puts it, a religion of the spirit.  As such, it is based on personal religious experience, and, for that reason, not infrequently poses a challenge to dogmatic, authoritarian religion.

• This form of spirituality is very much — if not almost exactly — what St. Paul described as spiritual mindedness. As such, Christian Platonism is concerned with achieving a certain higher level of consciousness or awareness opposed to, or at least different from, our usual concerns for material and worldly things (carnal-mindedness).

• A religion of the spirit is the perennial philosophy, although this has evolved over time. It was the basis of Christ’s original teachings, which sought more to spiritually liberate individuals than to establish church hierarchies and dogmas.

• In each age there have been specific obstacles opposing the emergence of spiritual Christianity. Despite this, there have been periodic flowerings of it at opportune moments of history. Hopefully now is such a time.

Below are excerpts from this lecture, along with a few comments.

Religion of the Spirit

He begins by stating the axial age hypothesis: that during the 1st millennia before Christ, certain social and/or environmental changes led to the emergence of a different form of religion across Asia and the Mediterranean:

The study of comparative religion has revealed the remarkable fact that a new spiritual enlightenment, quite unique in character, came to all the civilised peoples of the earth in the millennium before the Christian era. The change was felt first in Asia, but the same breath passed over Greece and South Italy in the sixth and fifth centuries B.C. … The essence of the new movement was the recognition of an unseen world of unchanging reality behind the flux of phenomena, a spiritual universe compared with which the world of appearance grew pale and unsubstantial and became only a symbol or even an illusion.

With this new outlook upon life came the conception of salvation as deliverance…. The chief aim … should be to escape from the ‘weary wheel’ of earthly existence, and to find rest in the bosom of the Eternal. The way to this deliverance is by the observance of discipline, which whether ascetic, in the ordinary sense of the word, or not, involves a renunciation of the world of surface experience. (pp. 7−8)

Inge tends to characterize this new spiritual religion in dualistic, world-denying terms. What this excludes (but should not) is the possibility that more integrated forms of spirituality — i.e., harmonious combination of concerns for this and the Eternal world — existed at this time.  Ancient myths could be interpreted as reflecting such integral spirituality. Further, to assume no ‘religion of the spirit’ existed before the 1st millennium BC seems rather arbitrary.  However neither of these points are crucial to his main argument.

Plato, according to Inge, inherited this newly coalescing spirituality from earlier philosophers, organizing and presenting it more clearly than ever before:

[I]t is in Plato, the disciple of the Pythagoreans as well as of Socrates … that this conception of an unseen eternal world, of which the visible world is only a pale copy, gains a permanent foothold in the West. What (he asked) if man had eyes to see that pure Beauty, unalloyed with the stains of material existence, would he not hasten to travel thither, happy as a captive released from the prison-house? Such was the call, which, once heard, has never long been forgotten in Europe. It was revived with an even more poignant longing in the New Platonism of the Roman Empire, from which it passed into the theology and philosophy of the Christian Church. (pp. 9−10)

Christian Platonism

He then proceeds to discuss how Platonism passed into Christianity.  Jesus Christ, while not, that we know of, aware of Platonism, nevertheless sought to teach the perennial spiritual religion, and in an improved form:

A Christian will be disposed to find, in this independent growth of spiritual religion, which began to influence the Jews of the Dispersion not later than the second century before Christ, a divinely ordered preparation for the supreme revelation in the Gospel. For although we cannot trace any foreign influence, either Western or Oriental, upon the recorded teaching of Christ, which seems rather to point back to the highest flights of Jewish prophecy, it is unquestionable that most of the canonical books of the New Testament, especially the epistles of St. Paul and the Johannine group, do not belong to the Palestinian tradition. (p. 10)

Christ was primarily concerned with awakening into activity the consciousness of God in the individual soul; His parting promise was that this consciousness should be an abiding possession of those who followed in His steps … . The path of life, as He showed it by precept and example, was superior to anything that either Greeks or Indians traced out; but the conception of salvation is essentially the same — a growth in the power of spiritual communion by a consecrated life of renunciation and discipline. (p. 19)

It might be mentioned here that Jesus Christ, who likely knew Greek, may indeed have known something about Greek philosophy. At the very least (and this is not inconsistent with what Inge says above), the Jewish prophetic tradition and Plato’s writings may have had certain influences in common.

As distinct from the ‘original teachings’ of Christ, Inge allows for Platonic influence of the written Gospels, especially John’s.  He passes over this rather briefly, however, seeing a much clearer connection to Platonism in St. Paul’s writings:

We are on surer ground when we look for a Platonic element in St. Paul’s theology than when we discuss possible borrowings from the mystery-cults.

The whole doctrine of the Spirit in his epistles corresponds closely to the Platonic Νους. The equation was made by some of the Greek Fathers; and the associations of the two words are so similar that I have thought ‘Spirit ’ less misleading than any other English word in translating the Νους of Plotinus. The words, ‘The things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal,’ [2 Cor 4:18] are pure Platonism; and this is not an isolated instance. In Rom. i. 20 ‘the invisible things’ (νοούμενα) are understood through the things that are made, and 1 Cor. xiii. 12 [‘For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.’] reminds us of Plato’s parable of the cave. The immateriality of Spirit was perhaps not quite clearly asserted by any writer before Plotinus. …

Other examples may be given of St. Paul’s affinity with Plato. The use of νους in Rom. vii. 23 (‘I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind’) is Platonic. … In 2 Cor. iii. 18 we read ‘we all, reflecting as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image.’ Col. iii. 1, ‘If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above,’ reminds us of Plato’s exhortation to ‘cleave ever to the upward path and follow after righteousness and wisdom.’ [Rep. 10.621c]. We must turn away from material things, for ‘flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God.’ … They share the tripartite psychology which divides human nature into νους (or πνεύμα in Christian theology), ψυχή and σώμα. ‘The earthly house of our tabernacle in which we groan’ is very un-Jewish, and very like the σώμα σημα of Orphism. Lastly, in the Phaedrus as in i Corinthians, love is the great hierophant of the divine mysteries, which forms the link between divinity and humanity. (pp. 11−13).

Much more could be said here concerning the connection of St. Paul and Platonism and many more verses cited.  Especially emblematic is Rom. 12:2, And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind [νοῦς], that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. Curiously, whereas Stoic influences on St. Paul have elicited considerable interest lately, any Platonic elements to his writings — which are arguably even more salient and important — have received little attention.

Inge describes how each historical epoch of Church history has presented special obstacles to the wide acceptance of spiritual Christianity, treating in succession the early centuries, Dark Ages, Middle Ages, Reformation and post-Reformation periods.

My point is that the religion of the Spirit, that autonomous faith which rests upon experience and individual inspiration, has seldom had much of a chance in the world since the Christian revelation, in which it received its full and final credentials. … [T]he luck of history, we may say, has hitherto been unfavourable to what I, at least, hold to be the growth of the divine seed. It has either fallen on the rock or by the wayside, or the thorns have grown up with it and choked it. (pp. 27,  29).

In the early centuries, both Eastern and Western Christianity suffered from excessive institutionalization, theocracy, and what he terms “caesaropapism”:

The religion of the Spirit has not fared much better in the West [than Buddhism in the East]. Scarcely had the persecutions ceased when the Church began to develop into the centralised autocracy which had become the type of civil government. Caesaropapism — the Byzantine type of state, which till lately survived in Russia, established itself in the East and produced a deadly stagnation in religious as well as secular life. In the West there was, in theory at least, a dual control; but the theocracy proved too strong for the Empire, which was rather an idea than a fact; and a fierce intolerance, which may be regarded as mainly Jewish in origin, but was strengthened by the Roman theory of rebellion against an Empire de iure universal, quenched or drove underground the free activities of religious thought. (p. 15)

In the Dark Ages, the loss of Greek learning in the West made it necessary to “bind the fetters of Church authority” on the masses.  Later, with the Middle Ages came the stranglehold of scholasticism and dogmatism.

Inge’s comments on the Reformation are especially interesting:

[T]he Reformation checked the progress of the religion of the Spirit. This was not the fault of the Reformers, but the inevitable result of the civil war which disrupted and distracted Christendom. In time of war the prophet and seer are not wanted. Effective partisan cries have to be devised, which will appeal to and be understood by the masses. If one side appeals to ancient and sacrosanct authority, the other side has to find a rival authority equally august and compelling.

… In the long and bitter struggle which was to decide which parts of Europe were to be Catholic and which Protestant, both sides were narrowed and hardened. The Roman Church was never again Catholic, and the Protestant Churches forgot the principles which justified their independent existence. The gains of the Renaissance were, within the religious domain, almost entirely lost. … Two religions of authority confronted each other, and real Christianity was once more driven underground. (pp. 23−24)

Inge sees both Catholicism and Protestantism as never having recovered from a descent into exaggerated dogmatism during the Reformation.  Among other things, this has left both camps ill-equipped to adapt to modern scientific discoveries.

Nevertheless, “The religion of the Spirit has an intrinsic survival value, and there have continually been “rare flowering-times of the human spirit which come and pass unaccountably, like the wind which bloweth where it listeth”:

We find it explicitly formulated by Clement and Origen, and we may appeal to one side of that strangely divided genius, Augustine. It lives on in the mystics, especially in the German medieval school, of which Eckhart is the greatest name. We find it again, with a new and exuberant life, in many of the Renaissance writers, so much so that our subject might almost as well be called the Renaissance tradition. Our own Renaissance poetry is steeped in Platonic thoughts. Later, during the civil troubles of the seventeenth century, it appears in a very pure and attractive form in the little group of Cambridge Platonists, Whichcote, Smith, Cudworth, and their friends. In the unmystical eighteenth century Jacob Bohme takes captive the manly and robust intellect of William Law, and inspires him to write some of the finest religious treatises in the English language. … The tradition has never been extinct; or we may say more truly that the fire which, in the words of Eunapius, ‘still burns on the altars of Plotinus,’ has a perennial power of rekindling itself when the conditions are favourable. (p. 28)

Whether these rare flowering-times are, as Inge suggests, unpredictable, or are connected with scientifically understandable socio-economic or evolutionary factors is unclear. The sociologist, Pitirim Sorokin, for example, saw in human cultural history a cyclical alternation of Idealism, materialism, rationalism and integralism that follows more or less lawful principles.

In a very helpful passage, Inge lists what he considers the essential features of Christian Platonism:

My contention is that besides the combative Catholic and Protestant elements in the Churches, there has always been a third element, with very honourable traditions, which came to life again at the Renaissance, but really reaches back to the Greek Fathers, to St. Paul and St. John, and further back still. The characteristics of this type of Christianity are

— a spiritual religion, based on a firm belief in absolute and eternal values as the most real things in the universe;

— a confidence that these values are knowable by man;

— a belief that they can nevertheless be known only by whole-hearted consecration of the intellect, will, and affections to the great quest;

— an entirely open mind towards the discoveries of science;

— a reverent and receptive attitude to the beauty, sublimity, and wisdom of the creation, as a revelation of the mind and character of the Creator;

— a complete indifference to the current valuations of the worldling. (p. 33)

See also Inge (1899, p. 79).  This is a good starting point, but we could easily expand it.  Christian Platonists also have a strong interest in understanding Goodness itself and in gaining the beatific vision. The are often perennialist in their interest in ancient traditions, and latitudinarian towards other religions and Christian denominations.  In terms of actual ascetical practices, Christian Platonists typically understand the cardinal virtues and contemplative practices as essential.  Many follow Philo in interpreting the Old Testament in allegorical terms corresponding to Platonic ethics and psychology.

He then adds:

The Christian element is supplied mainly by the identification of the inner light with the Spirit of the living, glorified, and indwelling Christ. This was the heart of St. Paul’s religion, and it has been the life-blood of personal devotion in all branches of the Christian Church to this day. (pp. 33−34)

Far more could — and ultimately should — be said about how Christianity improves on pagan Platonist spirituality.  Perhaps the very vastness of the topic caused Inge to settle on a very general, summary statement here.  Among the Christian innovations (besides the complex and multidimensional role of Christ in personal salvation), is a stronger view of a personal, loving God in Christianity: in Platonism Man seeks to ascend to God; in Christianity, God’s love is understood as so personal, so fervent, that God reaches out to Man.  It is God’s grace, ultimately, that leads one to liberation and salvation.  Further, in Christianity social charity is integral to spiritual salvation in a way not found (or at least not emphasized) in Platonism.

Future Prospects

Inge closes as follows:

In such a presentation of Christianity lies, I believe, our hope for the future. It cuts us loose from that orthodox materialism which in attempting to build a bridge between the world of facts and the world of values only succeeds in confounding one order and degrading the other. It equally emancipates us from that political secularising of Christianity which is just a characteristic attempt of institutionalism to buttress itself with the help of the secular power. This, as we have seen, has always been the policy of the religion of authority. The religion of Christ, the religion of the Spirit, will not have a chance till it is freed from these entanglements.

It will be a pleasure to me to consider briefly three periods in English History when there was a fruitful return in the Church to ‘her old loving nurse the Platonick philosophy’ … and I hope we are only at the beginning of a new Reformation on these lines. (pp. 34 – 35).

Unfortunately, we’ve seen no such renaissance of Christian Platonism or spiritual Christianity in the nearly 100 years since he wrote. Why?  Surely part of the answer lay in the twin juggernauts of materialism and globalization. Material technological advances will likely continue unabated for the indefinite future.  Will Western society be able to resist ever-more alluring gadgetry?  Or will it be recognized that advanced technology alone is unable to supply a fulfilling, meaningful and happy life?

But while the United States and Europe may by this point be ready for a new spiritual renaissance, developing countries may still find the appeal of materialism irresistible. At the same time, globalization has produced multi-national corporations that rival in wealth and power civil governments, and which are both able and willing to manipulate public tastes and opinions for self-interest.

To the extent that organized Christianity has changed since Inge wrote (as opposed to merely declined), we have seen emerge a fairly radical dominance of the social Gospel — radical in the sense that social justice and human rights are seen as more important than spirituality, prayer and worship.  In part, this is a necessary consequence of globalization, as the conditions of the world’s poor can no longer be ignored.  Yet amidst the clamor for social change we seem to have lost sight of spirituality — including the traditional view that personal love of God (and awareness of God’s personal love for us) is by far the most powerful and productive impetus for social charity.

If we survey the current situation, then, there seems little reason to believe that a new flowering of Christian Platonism will simply happen on its own today.  However if we leave the forces that shape human consciousness to history and economics, we are slaves of blind forces, of chaos.  Plato’s Timaeus suggests that chaos is the default state of matter, and that Form must be imposed upon it from without.  For Christianity to become a genuine religion of the spirit at this time, then, may require the conscious efforts of a dedicated minority.

Bibliography

Inge, William Ralph. Christian Mysticism: Considered in Eight Lectures Delivered Before the University of Oxford. New York: Scribner; London: Methuen, 1899. (Chs. 3 & 4, “Christian Platonism and Speculative Mysticism”, pp. 77−164).

Inge, William Ralph. The Platonic Tradition in English Religious Thought. London: Longmans, 1926.

1st draft: 21 Sep 2020

Thomas Traherne on Extraterrestrial Life

Photo: Juno orbiter photograph (NASA/JPL/Caltech/Kevin M. Gill)

“Our solar system has more mysteries than the sands of time, and at every turn there are new discoveries to be made. It’s as if God has given us a never-ending puzzle, one that all humanity can endlessly enjoy.” [1]

IN 1610 GALILEO pointed his telescope heavenward and discovered four large moons orbiting Jupiter, changing forever how humanity saw itself. Casual speculations about other worlds, possibly inhabited, had been made since ancient times.  But now here was irrefutable evidence — direct experience of the senses — against the unchallenged premise that Earth is the only world. And as ever more powerful telescopes revealed previously unknown stars, the case for an infinitely large universe — and perhaps an infinite number of other worlds — seemed irresistible.  And would not at least some of these other worlds be inhabited?

These new discoveries supplied considerable fuel for radical atheists of the times. Yet the Anglican priest, poet and writer, Thomas Traherne (c. 1637–1674) — Oxford trained and well-versed in the writings of Francis Bacon, the pre-eminent spokesman of the new scientific method — remained unphased.  As Traherne set out to explain in Chapter 22 his work The Kingdom of God (which was not discovered until 1997):

the Wits of the Age are Atheisticaly disposed and pretend the Moon and Stars to be Inhabited, to the utter overthrow of Religion, as they design it; And many Terse Ingenuities hav of late furthered the opinion, Because the Genius of the Time is hammering at Such a thing … It Shall not be amiss, to shew cleerly that if their Discourses, were true no Detriment can accrue to Religion therby. (Kingdom of God 22, p. 369)

Indeed, in the rapidly emerging new discoveries of science Traherne saw even greater cause to believe in God.

What if the Stars should be all Inhabited, what would follow? May we conclude thence, that there is no GOD? no Religion? No Blessedness? verily it is more Apparent, that there is a God, a Religion, a Blessedness thereby. What if beyond the Heavens there were Infinit Numbers of Worlds at vast unspeakable distances. And all Those worlds full of Glorious Kingdoms? and all those Kingdoms full of the most Noble and Glorious Creatures. And all those Creatures walking in the Light of Eternitie, full of Joy, evry Moment celebrating the Praises of their Creator. And as full of Love towards each other. Would this Abolish Heaven? Verily in my Conceit, it Enricheth it. For it is more answerable to Goodness, Wisdom, and Felicitie; and demonstrates visibly, that there is a GOD. (Ibid., 372)

Traherne’s unshakeable first principle — one derived both from rational speculation and his personal experiences — is that God is infinitely good.  And infinitely good in infinitely many ways.  It is, of course, a traditional Christian doctrine that God is infinite.  But reading Traherne’s works one senses how remarkably profound and compelling he held this principle to be. He grasped and took it to heart more than any Christian writer before or since. (Indeed, his deep appreciation of infinity may have had something to do with the advances in astronomy, science and mathematics in his lifetime.)

For Traherne, God, infinitely Good and wishing with infinite Love to share His Goodness, created human beings with divine intellects and wills.  And these human faculties, being made in God’s image, are themselves infinite in scope, capacity and complexity.  Hence Man’s insatiable yearning for knowledge, beauty, goodness and love.  To meet these needs, and to reveal Himself to Man, God created a universe of infinite wonder and goodness for Man’s investigation and delight.

Running throughout Traherne’s work is St. Anselm of Canterbury’s seminal insight: “God is that beyond which no greater Good can be thought or imagined.”  In simple terms, whatever good things we can imagine Him doing for us, God — in order to be God — must be not only capable of these but vastly more.

From this premise, Traherne advanced three arguments supporting the possibility of life on other worlds. The first is because God, infinitely productive and generous, delights in creating beauty and variety.  Hence we would not expect God to leave the vast reaches of space uninhabited:

all Nature delighting in Life, is evry where productiv of Innumerable Creatures … Nature abhorres Vacuitie and Sterilitie: That the Elementary Qualities would be there in vain, if there were no Inhabitants. The Sun also and the Stars would Shine upon all those vast and Desolat Spaces in Vain, if there were none to see them…. For him that is Omnipresent and Eternal, to confine his Contentments to one litle Spot, and leav all the Rest Empty and Desolate is unworthie of his Majestie, and not very answerable to his Infinit Greatness. Neither is it suitable to his Wisdom, that Worlds of such Infinit Magnificence, Bulk, Number, Distance, and Varietie; should be Created; only for to be, and serv like Sparks of Weak, and Glittering Light, for such a litle Ball, a Point, a Mite as the Earth is, being Capable of so many more uses, if him self pleaseth. (Ibid., 371 f.)

Second, an infinite universe that contains other planets harboring life would be a gift of infinite value to Man.  It would meet our insatiable thirst for knowledge, give cause for ever increasing thanks and praise, and be most consistent with (a central theme of Traherne’s writings) the vast grandeur and infinite capacity of the human soul.

Third, by creating other worlds with intelligent beings, God would make more creatures that witness and delight in Him and His works. Moreover, sentient aliens would have and enjoy their own relationship with God:

He desires Multitudes … to see his Glory, to Enjoy his Lov, to walk in the Paths of Righteousness, and, to prize his Works, to possess his Treasures, to Praise, admire, and see his Blessedness. The Earth is too poor a Cottage, too small a centre, to be the Single and Solitary object of his care and Love. (Ibid., 372)

Remarkably, Traherne even considered that sentient aliens would behold with joy the human soul, made in God’s image and likeness:

The Soul of Man would be Glorified, and Praised, and Magnified, and seen, and Belovd, and Admired, and Delighted in, in evry Part of Heaven, in evry Planet, in evry Star, in evry Kingdom, God doth delight in those that bear his Image, and are Blest with his Similitude. (Ibid.)

If our advanced intelligence isn’t unique in the universe, would not the same apply to our moral and spiritual sensibilities?  Popular depictions of evil aliens notwithstanding, we’d expect that a species intelligent enough to master interstellar travel would have a great interest in knowing who or what made the universe — and them — and why?  We might well suppose that advanced aliens would be even more interested in discussing religion with us than vice versa!

In Traherne’s view then, not only would the existence of other worlds and intelligent species not contradict religion, but we might be disappointed if God hasn’t made them!

[As a footnote, it seems to me Traherne’s view bear some relevance to estimating the probability of advanced alien life.  A legitimate question to ask is, “If there are other intelligent species, why have none not already contacted us?”  The absence of contact so far would seem to reduce the probability estimate of there being a species capable of interstellar flight in our near vicinity of the galaxy.  But what if aliens are as morally advanced as they are technologically?  Why would they intervene in our affairs?  Wouldn’t they rather take greater delight in observing the amazing and intricate process of our development, just as we’d prefer to witness with awe a remarkable work of nature — say, the blossoming of a consummately beautiful flower — than to control or direct it? Yes, they might look with some concern about our negative tendencies. But at the same time they would see, to their joy and amazement, beings with infinitely capacious intellects and souls. Arguments like this would reduce the probability that an intelligent species might choose to initiate contact, and, in turn, increase the probability of there being intelligent alien life.]

Notes

1. New Space Adventures: Mars. Through the Roof Productions. Video documentary, 2019.

 

Bibliography

Ross, Jan (ed.). The Works of Thomas Traherne: Volume I: Inducements to Retirednes, A Sober View of Dr Twisses his Considerations, Seeds of Eternity or the Nature of the Soul, The Kingdom of God. Cambridge: DS Brewer 2005.

1st draft: 10 Sep 2020

Preface to Traherne

Art: Thomas Denny, Thomas Traherne windows (Hereford Cathedral, 2007) 

SINCE the rediscovery of Thomas Traherne’s work around the turn of 20th century, there has been wide consensus that he is a significant writer. There has been less agreement, however, on why he is significant — i.e., what his main contributions, especially for present times, consist of.

Somewhat unfortunately, many early commentators focused attention on his poetry, classifying him narrowly as an English metaphysical poet.  However, while his poetry is excellent, it is arguably,not quite as technically sophisticated as that of George Herbert or Henry Vaughan. Traherne’s best work is not his verse, but his Centuries of Meditations, which we might classify as prose-poetry.

Other writers sought to interpret Traherne as a critic of the newly emerging rationalism, especially of Hobbes.  More recently (e.g., Inge, 2009) attention has been drawn to his significance for Christian doctrinal theology.

Somewhat less attention, however, has been paid to simply understanding Traherne’s writings at face value:  as devotional works intended to stimulate and deepen the religious experience of readers. What if we simply allow that Traherne is authentically inspired?   In that case, perhaps we ought to be more interested in how he describes his work and mission than in historical or technical criticism.

Traherne’s two most sublime and famous works — the poems of the Dobell folio (Dobell, 1906) and Centuries of Meditations (Dobell, 1908) have been transmitted in manuscript form only and lack author prefaces.  However Traherne did prepare another work, Christian Ethicks, for publication (it reached print a year after his death) and this is prefaced with a ‘Note to the Reader.’  Here Traherne carefully and concisely explains his purpose.  Christian Ethicks is a systematic work, but it treats the same subjects as his poems and Centuries of Meditations.  Therefore his ‘To the Reader’ gives us insight into his intentions for these other works as well.

To the Reader, copied from the 1675 edition of Christian Ethicks is supplied below. Original spelling is retained.  Page numbers have been added in braces ({}) and paragraphs numbered in brackets ([]).  Some key points are as follows:

In the first paragraph he announces his aim to elevate the soul and inflame the heart.  He is interested in ethics not as a dry academic exercise or as theories developed by force of rational argument.  Rather he seeks to excite the intelligence and arouse the will, enabling people to seek and directly experience the religious and moral truths contained.  Here he follows the tradition of Plato — to achieve moral transformation by an ascent of the mind and heart and by recollection (anamnesis) of already known truths — and not the rationalism of Aristotle or scholasticism.

In [2−3] he contrasts his method with discussions that approach ethics either (1) dogmatically, as ‘things we must do because God so ordains’, or (2) based on practical expedience.  Indeed, a hallmark feature of Traherne’s philosophy is that ethics is what produces our greatest good, which he calls Felicity.  Felicity includes happiness, but is something more.  It also carries the sense of joy, illumination and holiness.  For Traherne, Felicity is the telos of human beings, our ethical summum bonum.  It unites in a single principle our greatest happiness, our duty, expedience, God’s will, love of God and charity to others.

Traherne has sometimes been criticized as being an impractical optimist, with no significant theory of evil.  He addresses this point in paragraph [4], taking the position that virtues are so good, beautiful and attractive in themselves that, if we can see them truly, they will by their own force overcome any attraction to baseness or sin. Hence explicit discussion of vice is a digression and a distraction from topics that matter more.

Traherne is clearly promoting what we would today call virtue ethics. In the subsequent paragraphs he alludes to a number of specific virtues, including the traditional cardinal and theological virtues.  Again in a characteristically Platonic way, he recognizes a fundamental unity amongst virtues.  At the center of them all is Goodness, the source of which is God.

The final paragraph emphasizes two things.  First, the essence of his entire system is to exhort us to God’s praise and glory.  God’s glory, for Traherne, is the essential fact of the universe.  This fact is not only virtually a logical necessity, but something Traherne claims to have experienced himself many times.  Further, we cannot doubt that it is his personal, passionate aim to convey this message to us so that we may achieve the Felicity of which he speaks.  Traherne presents his writings as a charitable outreaching to his readers, seeking to further God’s glory by making us want to further God’s glory, achieving, in the process, our own Felicity.  This kind of self-reinforcing circularity is recurring theme in his writings.

Finally and tellingly, he is careful to emphasize that we must not only understand these high truths intellectually, but “sense” them.

TO THE READER.

[1] THE design of this Treatise is, not to stroak and tickle the Fancy, but to elevate the Soul, and refine its Apprehensions, to inform the Judgment, and polish it for Conversation, to purifie and enflame the Heart, to enrich the Mind, and guide Men {ii} (that stand in need of help) in the way of Vertue; to excite their Desire, to encourage them to Travel, to comfort them in the Journey, and so at last to lead them to true Felicity, both here and hereafter.

[2] need not treat of Vertues in the ordinary way, as they are Duties enjoyned by the Law of GOD; that the Author of The whole Duty of Man *hath excellently done: nor as they are Prudential Expedients and Means for a mans Peace and Honour on Earth; that is in some measure done by the French Charon {iii} of Wisdom**. My purpose is to satisfie the Curious and Unbelieving Soul, concerning the reality, force, and efficacy of Vertue; and having some advantages from the knowledge I gained in the nature of Felicity (by many years earnest and diligent study) my business is to make as visible, as it is possible for me, the lustre of its Beauty, Dignity, and Glory: By shewing what a necessary Means Vertue is, how sweet, how full of Reason, how desirable in it self, how just and amiable, how delightful, and how powerfully conducive also {iv} to Glory: how naturally Vertue carries us to the Temple of Bliss, and how immeasurably transcendent it is in all kinds of Excellency.

[3] And (if I may speak freely) my Office is, to carry and enhance Vertue to its utmost height, to open the Beauty of all the Prospect, and to make the Glory of GOD appear, in the Blessedness of Man, by setting forth its infinite Excellency: Taking out of the Treasuries of Humanity those Arguments that will discover the great perfection of the End of Man, which he may atchieve {v} by the capacity of his Nature: As also by opening the Nature of Vertue it self, thereby to display the marvellous Beauty of Religion, and light the Soul to the sight of its Perfection.

[4] I do not speak much of Vice, which is far the more easie Theme, because I am intirely taken up with the abundance of Worth and Beauty in Vertue, and have so much to say of the positive and intrinsick Goodness of its Nature. But besides, since a strait Line is the measure both of it self, and of a crooked one, I conclude, That the very Glory of {vi} Vertue well understood, will make all Vice appear like dirt before Jewel, when they are compared together. Nay, Vice as soon as it is named in the presence of these Vertues, will look like Poyson and a Contagion, or if you will, as black as Malice and Ingratitude: so that there will need no other Exposition of its Nature, to dehort Men from the love of it, than the Illustration of its Contrary.

[5] Vertues are listed in the rank of Invisible things; of which kind, some are so blind as to deny there are any existent {vii} in Nature: But yet it may, and will be made easily apparent, that all the Peace and Beauty in the World proceedeth from them, all Honour and Security is founded in them, all Glory and Esteem is acquired by them. For the Prosperity of all Kingdoms is laid in the Goodness of GOD and of Men. Were there nothing in the World but the Works of Amity, which proceed from the highest Vertue, they alone would testifie of its Excellency. For there can be no Safety where there is any Treachery: But were all {viii} Truth and Courtesie exercis’d with Fidelity and Love, there could be no Injustice or Complaint in the World; no Strife, nor Violence: but all Bounty, Joy and Complacency. Were there no Blindness, every Soul would be full of Light, and the face of Felicity be seen, and the Earth be turned into Heaven.

[6] The things we treat of are great and mighty; they touch the Essence of every Soul, and are of infinite Concernment, because the Felicity is eternal that is acquired by them: I do not mean Immortal only but worthy to be Eternal: and it is {ix} impossible to be happy without them. We treat of Mans great and soveraign End, of the Nature of Blessedness, of the Means to attain it: Of Knowledge and Love, of Wisdom and Goodness, of Righteousness and Holiness, of Justice and Mercy, of Prudence and Courage, of Temperance and Patience, of Meekness and Humility, of Contentment, of Magnanimity and Modesty, of Liberality and Magnificence, of the waies by which Love is begotten in the Soul, of Gratitude, of Faith, Hope, and Charity, of Repentance, Devotion, {x} Fidelity, and Godliness. In all which we shew what sublime and mysterious Creatures they are, which depend upon the Operations of Mans Soul; their great extent, their use and value, their Original and their End, their Objects and their Times: What Vertues belong to the Estate of Innocency, what to the Estate of Misery and Grace, and what to the Estate of Glory. Which are the food of the Soul, and the works of Nature; which were occasioned by Sin, as Medicines and Expedients only: which are {xi} Essential to Felicity, and which Accidental; which Temporal, and which Eternal: with the true Reason of their Imposition; why they all are commanded, and how wise and gracious GOD is in enjoyning them. By which means all Atheism is put to flight, and all Infidelity: The Soul is reconciled to the Lawgiver of the World, and taught to delight in his Commandements: All Enmity and Discontentment must vanish as Clouds and Darkness before the Sun, when the Beauty of Vertue appeareth in its {xii} brightness and glory. It is impossible that the splendour of its Nature should be seen, but all Religion and Felicity will be manifest.

[7] Perhaps you will meet some New Notions: but yet when they are examined, he hopes it will appear to the Reader, that it was the actual knowledge of true Felicity that taught him to speak of Vertue; and moreover, that there is not the least tittle pertaining to the Catholick Faith contradicted or altered in his Papers. For he firmly retains all that was established in the {xiii} Ancient Councels, nay and sees Cause to do so, even in the highest and most transcendent Mysteries: only he enriches all, by farther opening the grandeur and glory of Religion, with the interiour depths and Beauties of Faith. Yet indeed it is not he, but GOD that hath enriched the Nature of it: he only brings the Wealth of Vertue to light, which the infinite Wisdom, and Goodness, and Power of GOD have seated there. Which though Learned Men know perhaps far better than he, yet he humbly craves pardon for casting in {xiv} his Mite to the vulgar Exchequer. He hath nothing more to say, but that the Glory of GOD, and the sublime Perfection of Humane Nature are united in Vertue. By Vertue the Creation is made useful, and the Universe delightful. All the Works of GOD are crowned with their End, by the Glory of Vertue. For whatsoever is good and profitable for Men is made Sacred; because it is delightful and well-pleasing to GOD: Who being LOVE by Nature, delighteth in his Creatures welfare.{xv}

[8] There are two sorts of concurrent Actions necessary to Bliss. Actions in GOD, and Actions in Men; nay and Actions too in all the Creatures. The Sun must warm, but it must not burn; the Earth must bring forth, but not swallow up; the Air must cool without starving, and the Sea moisten without drowning: Meats must feed but not poyson: Rain must fall, but not oppress: Thus in the inferiour Creatures you see Actions are of several kinds. But these may be reduced to the Actions of GOD, from whom they {xvi} spring; for he prepares all these Creatures for us. And it is necessary to the felicity of his Sons, that he should make all things healing and amiable, not odious and destructive: that he should Love, and not Hate: And the Actions of Men must concur aright with these of GOD, and his Creatures. They must not despise Blessings because they are given, but esteem them; not trample them under feet, because they have the benefit of them, but magnifie and extol them: They too must Love, and not Hate: They must not kill and murther, {xvii} but serve and pleasure one another: they must not scorn great and inestimable Gifts, because they are common, for so the Angels would lose all the happiness of Heaven. If GOD should do the most great and glorious things that infinite Wisdom could devise; if Men will resolve to be blind, and perverse, and sensless, all will be in vain: the most High and Sacred things will increase their Misery. This may give you some little glimpse of the excellency of Vertue.{xviii}

[9] You may easily discern that my Design is to reconcile Men to GOD, and make them fit to delight in him: and that my last End is to celebrate his Praises, in communion with the Angels. Wherein I beg the Concurrence of the Reader, for we can never praise him enough; nor be fit enough to praise him: No other man (at least) can make us so, without our own willingness, and endeavour to do it. Above all, pray to be sensible of the Excellency of the Creation for upon the due sense of its Excellency the life of {xix} Felicity wholly dependeth. Pray to be sensible of the Excellency of Divine Laws, and of all the Goodness which your Soul comprehendeth. Covet a lively sense of all you know, of the Excellency of GOD, and of Eternal Love; of your own Excellency, and of the worth and value of all Objects whatsoever. For to feel is as necessary, as to see their Glory.

* Anonymous, The Whole Duty of Man. London: Henry Hammond, 1658.  A popular 17th century Anglican devotional work.

** Pierre Charron, De la sagesse (translated into English as Of Wisdome, 1612).  Charron, a disciple of Montaigne, defended virtue on the basis of practical expedience.

Bibliography

Balakier, James, J. Thomas Traherne and the Felicities of the Mind. Amherst, NY: Cambria Press, 2010.

Dobell, Bertram (ed.). The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne. London, 1903; 2nd ed. 1906.

Dobell, Bertram (ed.). Thomas Traherne: Centuries of Meditations. London, 1908.

Hunter, Stuart Charles. Prophet of Felicity: A Study of the Intellectual Background of Thomas Traherne. Diss. McMaster University, 1965.

Inge, Denise. Wanting Like a God: Desire and Freedom in Thomas Traherne. London: SCM Press, 2009.

Margoliouth, H. M. (ed.). Centuries, Poems, and Thanksgivings. 2 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958.

Marks, Carol L. Thomas Traherne and Hermes Trismegistus. Renaissance News, vol. 19, no. 2, 1966, 118–131.

Martz, Louis. The Paradise Within: Studies in Vaughan, Traherne, and Milton. New Haven and London, 1964.

Traherne, Thomas. Christian ethicks, or, Divine morality opening the way to blessedness, by the rules of vertue and reason. London, Jonathan Edwin, 1675. [Orig. edition]

1st draft: 1 Sep 2020

The Seven Virtues and Fifty Subvirtues of Medieval Christianity

Tree of Virtues from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 26r.

BEGINNING in the 11th century we find in Western medieval manuscripts frequent portrayal of virtues and vices as tree diagrams.  These vary in details, but always include the four cardinal virtues of the Greek ethical tradition (Fortitude, Temperance,  Prudence and Justice) and the three theological virtues (Faith, Hope and Charity) of Christianity.  Each virtue is shown as a branch of the tree accompanied by seven sub-virtues (Charity may have up to ten sub-virtues, so we’ll say roughly fifty subvirtues in total) as leaves.  Often a parallel tree of the seven deadly vices and their sub-vices accompanies the Tree of Virtues.  Pride (superbia) is considered the common root of all vices, and Humility (humilitas) of all virtues.

The best-known of these figures appear in a 12th century work called the Speculum virginum (Mirror of Virgins), a devotional work intended for the spiritual formation of nuns and attributed to Conrad of Hirsau. (Mews, 2001 supplies a wealth of information on the Speculum virginum.)

The Speculum virginum shows the Tree of Virtue and Tree of Vices side by side on facing pages, as below:

Tree of Vices (left) and Tree of Virtues (right), Walters MS W.72, fols. 25v-26r

The trees in the Speculum virginum are based on an earlier work, De fructibus carnis et spiritus (On the Fruits of the Flesh and Spirit), sometimes attributed to Hugh of St. Victor, but possibly written by Conrad of Hirsau.  The Prologue of De fructibus introduces the two trees as follows:

SINCE every word of Divine Scripture aims to convince one of the good of humility, and to advise more attentively to decline the evil of pride, especially since on the one hand it is the beginning of salvation and life, and on the other of ruin, it seems necessary that the fruit and efficacy of humility and pride itself should be seen as a form visible to the devotee of virtues, to show … in so far one is the imitator of either species, of pride, or of humility, the quality of the fruits, and what reward one obtains from the execution of either. Therefore, we present two trees, different in fruit and growth, both rough and young, to each of the opposites, with vices or virtues attached to them; with a few definitions, from whose root the fruits proceed, and which tree is to be chosen from the two, attracted by the fruit, one can discern. Indeed pride is the root of the fruit of the flesh, humility the fruit of the spirit. This diversity, looking at the roots, shows the appetite of those who seek their fruits in moderation. Old Adam places himself in the castle of the wicked tree. The new Adam obtains the guidance of the spiritual results. If, therefore, the more excellent is the worse, that is, you have joined the good to the evil from the other side, which stands out in these, and which you have strongly understood to predominate. For when the qualities of the opposites are compared, a better estimation will soon be evident. Therefore, having looked at our roots, branches, and fruits, it is up to you to choose what you will.
(Source: De fructibus carnis et spiritus; Prologue; my translation)

At issue is a fundamental distinction between a soul organized by (in St. Paul’s terms; e.g., Romans 8) carnal mindedness or by spiritual mindedness.  St. Augustine’s elaboration of the distinction — love of the world and love of God — respectively came to virtually define ethical psychology in the Middle Ages. 

The evil tree on the left appears under the rubric Vetus Adam (Old Adam), or man unredeemed. Rooted in superbia (Pride),  its crowning fruit is luxuria (Sensory Pleasure) and it is prominently labeled Babylonia, or a city of confusion.

The good tree on the right appears under the rubric Novus Adam (New Adam), or a regenerated person in a state of grace. Rooted in Humilitas (Humility), its crowning fruit is Caritas (Charity) and it is labeled Hierosolyma (Jerusalem; city of peace). For more discussion on the significance of these trees, and especially how they relate to medieval Christianity’s central empahsis on Charity, see Robertson (1951).

Humility, we should note, is meant in the Christian sense as (1) an accurate recognition of one’s own sinfulness, frailty, ignorance and utter dependence on God, and (2) a subordination of one’s own will to God’s. Pride does not mean arrogance, conceit, or self-aggrandizement so much as self-will.

More than a simple device to assist in the memorization of ethical doctrine, these and the several other figures in the Speculum are conceptual tools.  They supply an interiorly retained image, with which one may visualize internal psychological processes and form productive associational structures, promoting integration of spiritual mindendess into ones personality.

The seven Virtues and their sub-virtues are listed below.  The selection of sub-virtues and their definitions appears influenced by a variety of patristic and biblical sources. The vices and subvices are described in a separate post here.

Update:  Since posting this I’ve added a related article, The Thirty Seraphic Virtues of the Middle Ages.

❧

PRUDENCE (prudentia)

• Fear of God (timor Domini)
• Promptness (alacritas)
• Counsel (consilium)
• Memory (memoria)
• Intelligence (intelligentia)
• Foresight (providentia)
• Deliberation (deliberatio)

JUSTICE (justitia )

• Law (lex)
• Strictness (severitas)
• Equity (aequitas)
• Correction (correctio; Correctio est erroris innati vel consuetudine introducti freno rationis inhibitio.)
• Honoring a pledge (jurisjurandi observatio; Jurisjurandi observatio est quae, plebescito civibus promulgato, transgressionem ejus temerariam arcet praestito juramento de conservatione illius perpetua.)
• Judgment (judicium)
• Truth (veritas)

COURAGE (fortitudo)

• Magnanimity (magnanimitas)
• Fidelity (fiducia)
• Tolerance (tolerantia)
• Rest (requies)
• Stability (stabilitas)
• Constancy (constantia)
• Perseverance (perseverantia)

TEMPERANCE (temperantia)

• Discernment (discretio)
• Obedience; acquiescence (morigeratio)
• Silence (taciturnitas)
• Fasting (jejunium)
• Sobriety (sobrietas)
• Physical penance; mortification of flesh (afflictio carnis; Afflictio carnis est per quem lascivae mentis seminaria castigatione discreta comprimuntur.)
• Contempt of the world (contemptus saeculi)

FAITH (fides)

• Pratice of religion (religio)
• Decorum (munditia; Munditia est consummata integritas utriusque hominis intuitu divini vel amoris vel timoris.)
• Obedience (obedientia)
• Chastity (castitas)
• Reverence (reverentia)
• Continence (continentia)
• Good desire (affectus)

HOPE (spes)

• Heavenly contemplation (contemplatio supernorum; Contemplatio supernorum est per sublevatae mentis jubilum mors carnalium affectuum).
• Joy (gaudium)
• Modesty (modestia)
• Confession (confessio)
• Patience (patientia)
• Sorrow for faults (compunctio)
• Longsuffering (longanimitas)

CHARITY (caritas)

• Forgiveness (gratia)
• Peace (pax)
• Piety (pietas)
• Mildness; leniency(mansuetudo)
• Liberality (liberalitas)
• Mercy (misericordia)
• Indulgence (indulgentia)
• Compassion (compassio)
• Benignity (benignitas)
• Concord (concordia)

❧

Bibliography

Goggin, Cheryl Gohdes. Copying manuscript illuminations: The Trees of Vices and Virtues. Visual Resources, 2004, 20:2-3, 179−198. https://doi.org/10.1080/0197376042000207552

Hugo de S. Victore (attr.). De fructibus carnis et spiritus. J. P. Migne. Patrologia Latina, Paris, 1854; cols. 997−1010 (rough diagrams of the Tree of Vices and Tree of Virtues appear at the end of the work).  Latin text is online: http://mlat.uzh.ch/?c=2&w=HuDeSVi.DeFrCaE

Katzenellenbogen, Adolf. Allegories of the Virtues and Vices in Medieval Art from Christian Times to the Thirteenth Century. Alan J. P. Crick (tr.). London: Warburg Institute, 1939.

Mews, Constant J. (ed.). Listen, Daughter: The “Speculum virginum” and the Formation of Religious Women in the Middle Ages. The New Middle Ages Series. Palgrave, 2001.  Pages 15−40.

Powell, Morgan. Gender, Reading, and Truth in the Twelfth Century: The Woman in the Mirror. Arc Humanities Press, 2020.

Robertson, D. W. The Doctrine of Charity in Mediaeval Literary Gardens: A Topical Approach through Symbolism and Allegory. Speculum, vol. 26, no. 1, 1951, pp. 24–49. Reprinted in: Robertson, Durant Waite. Essays in Medieval Culture. Princeton University Press, 1980 (repr. 2014); pp. 21−50.

Tucker, Shawn R. The Virtues and Vices in the Arts: A Sourcebook. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2015.

Watson, Arthur. The Speculum Virginum with special reference to the Tree of Jesse. Speculum, vol. 3, no. 4, 1928, pp. 445–69.

Art: “Tree of Virtues” from Speculum Virginum, Walters Art Museum Ms. W.72, fol. 26r; early 13th century manuscript from the Cistercian abbey of Himmerode, Germany. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Virtues_Speculum_Virginum_W72_26r.jpg

 

Contemplative Christianity in the 13th and 14th Centuries: Latin West

(click image to view in high resolution)

HERE we extend the previous timeline forward to the 13th and 14th centuries.
Legend: Olive = Benedictine; Light green: Cistercian; Purple: Dominican; Orange = Carthusian; Dark blue = Augustinian; Light blue = Other.

Recommended Reading

Egan, Harvey D. An Anthology of Christian Mysticism. Liturgical Press, 1991.

McGinn, Bernard. The Flowering of Mysticism: Men and Women in the New Mysticism (1200−1350). (Vol. 3 of B. McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of Western Christian Mysticism.) New York: Crossroad, 1998.

Greek Philosophy for Bible Exegetes



IT’S GOOD to see when a Christian is so consumed with zeal to understand the New Testament that he or she resolves to learn Greek to better understand its message. For some, this same kind of zeal might motivate an interest to learn about the Greek philosophy circulating at the time the New Testament was written.

St. Paul was well versed in Greek philosophy. He was raised in Tarsus (a philosophical center), studied in Jerusalem at Gamaliel’s rabbinical school, and when in Athens discoursed intelligently with Stoic and Epicurean philosophers. The better-educated of those to whom he directed his letters would have been familiar with Greek philosophy and accustomed to thinking about morals and religion in such terms. St. Paul, who was willing to be “all things to all men, so that some might be saved,” would have found many ideas and principles of Greek philosophy helpful in approaching Gentiles and Hellenized Jews with the message of Christianity.

The writers of the Gospels, too, show every sign of being well-educated Greek-speakers, who might easily have been familiar with elements of Greek philosophy.

Jesus himself probably spoke Greek, and may have lived in the large community of Greek-speaking Jews of Alexandria during his childhood, where he might have come into contact with Greek learning.

Therefore, for such practicing Christians as may feel inspired to plunge into Greek philosophy to further their Bible study, below is a list of suggested primary texts sufficient to give one a good understanding of the subject.

Diogenes Laërtius (180 – 240 AD), Lives of Eminent Philosophers selections.

Perhaps the best single resource on the lives of ancient Greek philosophers.  Much better than modern texts!  The main chapters (“Lives”) of interest are as follows:

• Socrates
• Plato
• Aristotle
• Zeno of Citium (Stoic school)
• Epicurus (Epicurean school)
• Diogenes (Cynic school)
• Pyrrho (Sceptic school)

Plato (428 − 347 BC), selected dialogues, in suggested reading order shown

It is widely believed today that St. Paul was influenced by Stoic thought. However, many of the ideas present in Stoicism are found earlier in Plato’s writings.  Stoicism, in fact, could be considered a branch of Platonism.

• Charmides (an easy introduction to the writing of the greatest Greek philosopher)
• Apology (background on the historical Socrates)
• Phaedo (Socrates’ final conversations before his execution)
• Symposium (On love)
• Phaedrus (includes Plato’s famous chariot myth)
• Republic (contrary to common opinion, this is not a literal treatise on civil politics, but an inspired allegory for the governance of ones soul; the subtitle is On the Righteous Man.)

Aristotle (384 – 322 BC)

• Nicomachean Ethics

Cicero (106 − 43 BC)

In Cicero (a Roman who wrote about Greek philosophy) we see a kind of humanism emerging that is almost Christian.  Also, Cicero transmits to us the philosophical ideas of Posidonius of Apamea (c. 135 – c. 51 BC) and Panaetius of Rhodes (c. 185 − c. 110 BC), whose versions of Stoicism would have likely influenced St. Paul and his contemporaries.

• On Ends (De finibus)
• On Moral Duties (De officiis)

Seneca (Seneca the Younger; c. 4 BC – 65 AD), selections 

Seneca was the brother of Gallio, proconsul of Achaea, who handled St. Paul’s case in Corinth. It’s remotely possible that St. Paul met Seneca in Rome, or that among his contacts in Caesar’s household were some who knew Seneca well.

• On Anger (De ira) (dedicated to Gallio)
• On Providence (De providentia)
• On Tranquility of Mind (De tranquillitate animi)

As an example of later Stoicism, one might read either Epictetus or Marcus Aurelius.

Epictetus (55 – 135 AD)

• Discourses (a short work; c. 108 AD)
• Enchiridion (c. 125 AD)

Marcus Aurelius (121 − 180 AD) 

• Meditations

Finally mention should be made of the great Platonic-Jewish exegete, Philo of Alexandria  (c. 20 BC – 50 AD).  The three books of Allegorical Interpretation supply an introduction to his sublime thought.  In some ways Philo is the most relevant of all these philosophers for Christians, but as his writing style is somewhat difficult, it’s perhaps better to first gain a solid foothold in Greek philosophy by reading the other authors.

John Uebersax
1st draft (sorry for any typos)