Christian Tradition

A Companion to Francisco Suárez
Brill’s Companions to the

Christian Tradition
A series of handbooks and reference works on the
intellectual and religious life of Europe, 500–1800
Editor-in-Chief
Christopher M. Bellitto (Kean University)
VOLUME 53
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A Companion to
Francisco Suárez
Edited by
Victor M. Salas
Robert L. Fastiggi
LEIDEN | BOSTON
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of the Museo Galileo - Institute and Museum of the History of Science, Florence, Italy.
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A companion to Francisco Suárez / edited by Victor M. Salas, Robert L. Fastiggi.

pages cm. -- (Brill’s companions to the Christian tradition, ISSN 1871-6377 ; VOLUME 53)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-90-04-28158-5 (hardback : alk. paper)
1. Suárez, Francisco, 1548-1617. I. Salas, Victor M., editor.
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Contents
Preface vii
List of Abbreviations x
List of Contributors xi
1 Introduction
Francisco Suárez, the Man and His Work 1
Victor Salas and Robert Fastiggi
2 Political Thought and Legal Theory in Suárez 29

Jean-Paul Coujou
3 Suárez, Heidegger, and Contemporary Metaphysics 72

Jean-François Courtine
4 Suárez on the Subject of Metaphysics 91

Rolf Darge
5 Suárez and the Baroque Matrix of Modern Thought 124

Costantino Esposito
6 Francisco Suárez as Dogmatic Theologian 148

Robert Fastiggi
7 Suárez on the Metaphysics and Epistemology of Universals 164

Daniel Heider
8 Suárez’s Psychology 192
Simo Knuuttila
9 Suárez’s Influence on Protestant Scholasticism

The Cases of Hollaz and Turretín 221
John Kronen
10 Suárez on Beings of Reason 248

Daniel Novotný
11 Suárez and the Natural Law 274

Paul Pace, s.j.
vi Contents ï»¿
12 Original Features of Suárez’s Thought 297

José Pereira
13 Suárez’s Doctrine of Concepts

How Divine and Human Intellection are Intertwined 313
Michael Renemann
14 Between Thomism and Scotism

Francisco Suárez on the Analogy of Being 336
Victor Salas
Epilogue 363
Bibliography 367
Index of Authors 379
Index of Subjects 382
Preface
This present volume is one of several recent collections of scholarly essays

concerned with the thought of Suárez. In 2012, both Oxford University Press1
and Cambridge University Press2 came out with volumes containing essays on
the philosophy of the Doctor eximius. These volumes, however, were almost
entirely focused on the philosophical and legal thought of the great Jesuit, and
they also reflected a more Anglo-American analytic approach. Also worthy of
note here is another volume—edited by Marco Sgarbi—devoted to Suárez’s
metaphysical and epistemological influence upon modern philosophy.3 The
present volume seeks to situate Suárez clearly within his own scholastic frame-
work and therefore follows an historical and, at times, even contentintal meth-
odology to address topics that are central themes within the thought of the
Doctor eximius. But, what is more, as Suárez himself makes clear on any num-
ber of occasions, his own estimation of his life’s work was as that of a theolo-
gian, and, consequently, any study that fails to consider the theological
character of Suárez’s intellectual contribution necessarily fails to appreciate
the tenor of Suárez’s life project. Accordingly, the present volume includes
studies devoted to Suárez’s theology, as well as his influence on Protestant
thought. All the recent volumes referenced above, however, have one thing
in common: an appreciation of the singular contribution of Francisco Suárez
to Baroque scholasticism in particular, and the history of Western thought
in general.
The volume opens with an introductory chapter in which the editors offer a
view of Suárez’s remarkable life, survey some of his most important works
(such as the Disputationes metaphysicae, De legibus, et al.), and discuss the
influence that the scholastic Doctor eximius had on succeeding generations of
philosophers. Chapter 2, by Jean-Paul Coujou, provides an overview of Suárez’s
political and legal thought, as articulated in De legibus ac Deo legislatore (1612)
and Defensio Fidei Catholicae (1613). Here, Coujou demonstrates that by build-
ing upon the insights of Aristotle, Aquinas, and Francisco de Vitoria, Suárez
rejects the idea of the monarch ruling by ‘divine right’, and instead, locates the
authority of the State in the consent of the people (whether implicit or
1 Benjamin Hill and Henrik Lagerlund, eds., The Philosophy of Francisco Suarez (Oxford
University Press, 2012).
2 Daniel Schwartz, ed., Interpreting Suárez: Critical Essays (Cambridge University Press, 2013).
3 Cf. Marco Sgarbi, ed., Francisco Suárez and His Legacy: The Impact of Suárezian Metaphysics
and Epistemology on Modern Philosophy (Milan: Vita e Pensiero, 2010).
viii Preface ï»¿
explicit). Suárez argues that although civil law must be distinguished from
divine positive law, it nevertheless has a moral orientation because it is
informed by the natural law and is directed toward the common good. The
political history of humanity manifests both the plurality of States and the
moral and temporal unity of the human race as a type of ‘mystical body’.
Next, in Chapter 3, Jean-François Courtine examines Heidegger’s attempt to
recapture the importance of metaphysics while moving it beyond its ‘onto-
theological’ foundations, whether classical Greek or Christian. Although
Heidegger believes philosophy should express a type of ‘Godlessness’, he never-
theless finds much inspiration in Suárez’s epochal attempt to provide meta-
physics with a systematic and scientific structure. In Chapter 4, Rolf Darge
argues against certain intrepretations of Suárez’s metaphysics that maintain
the Jesuit’s ontology ultimately glides into a ‘tinology’, which is to say that
‘being’, for Suárez, embraces more than what is real and includes also what is
merely ‘thinkable’. However, in Chapter 5, Costantino Esposito offers a contrary
(one might even say ‘opposing’) view to Darge, and labels Suárez as the pro-
genitor of (problematic) modern ontologies, including the division of meta-
physics into the (in)famous metaphysica generalis and metaphysica specialis.
In the following chapter (Chapter 6), Robert Fastiggi focuses on Suárez’s spe-
cifically theological contributions. After providing a survey of the Spanish
Jesuit’s theological writings, Fastiggi examines the role that the Doctor eximius
played in the fields of Mariology, Ecclesiology, and the theology of grace. The
seventh chapter, Daniel Heider’s contribution, examines Suárez’s teaching on
universals, which is largely informed by the moderate realism of thinkers such
as Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus. In Chapter 8, Simo Knuuttila—in a tour de
force—examines the entirety of Suárez’s philosophical psychology, which,
Knuuttila points out, is largely indebted to the traditional Aristotelian and
Thomistic paradigms. Still, Knuuttila adds, the influence of Scotus is readily
apparent, and one of Suárez’s original innovations is his theory of ‘non-causal
sympatheic connections’ between and among vital acts. Next, in Chapter 9, John
Kronen takes up a topic that deserves greater attention, viz., the influence of
Suárez on Protestant Scholasticsm. He offers an exposition of the scholastic
thought of two important theologians: the Lutheran theologian David Hollaz
(1648–1713), and the Reform dogmatician Francis Turretín (1623–1687). Kronen
shows how these two thinkers—both influenced by Suárez—applied the scho-
lastic method to such topics as natural theology, the divine essence and attri-
butes, and God’s knowledge and will in relation to predestination.
In Chapter 10, Daniel Novotný provides a detailed summary of Suárez’s
metaphysical treatment of ‘beings of reason’, the theme of Disputation 54 in
the Disputationes metaphysicae. This chapter discusses ‘beings of reason’ as
ï»¿P reface ix
pure objects of the intellect, and also investigates the causality and division of
such ‘beings’. In Chapter 11, Paul Pace, s.j. provides a thorough overview of
Suárez’s philosophy of the natural law, taking note of historical influences such
as Francisco de Vitoria. Pace provides an illuminating discussion of the pre-
cepts of the natural law, as well as the question of the natural law’s immutabil-
ity (and possible dispensations from it). José Pereira takes up the theme of the
originality of Suárez in Chapter 12, and highlights the following: the systemati-
zation of metaphysics, the creation of a super-system, the concept of a ‘unitary
dyad’, the method of ‘conceptual focusing’, the confirmation of extramental
reality by the intramental, and analogy as the key to understanding being. In
Chapter 13, Michael Renemann examines an important aspect of Suárezian
epistemology, namely, the formation of concepts. Taking note of how Suárez
relates to predecessors such as Aquinas, Scotus, and Ockham, Renemann’s
chapter is especially valuable for understanding how Suárez relates to an epis-
temology of divine illumination. In the final chapter (the fourteenth), Victor
Salas assesses Suárez’s doctrine of analogy and, based as it is upon the Jesuit’s
notion of a ‘confused concept’, finds therein an original contribution to the
medieval-scholastic debates about analogy. Neither reducible to Thomistic
analogy (either in terms of proper proportionality, as Cajetan had maintained,
or attribution) nor to some form of Scotistic univocity, Suárez’s notion of the
analogia entis is demonstrated to form an original doctrine unto itself.
List of Abbreviations
da De anima
df Defensio Fidei
dm Disputationes metaphysicae
De ang. De angelis
De cen. De censuris
De div. sub. De divina substantia
De leg. De legibus ac Deo legislatore
De rel. De religione
De ult. De ultimo fine hominis
De vol. et invo. De voluntario et involuntario
st Summa theologiae (Thomas Aquinas)
List of Contributors
Jean-Paul Coujou
is Professor of Philosophy at the Institut Catholique de Toulouse (France) and
a member of the Institut Michel Villey.
is Full Professor (Professeur des universités) at the Université Paris-Sorbonne
(France) and a member of the Institut Universitaire de France.
Rolf Darge
is Professor of Philosophy at the University of Salzburg in Austria.
Costantino Esposito
is Ordinary Professor of the History of Philosophy at the Università di Bari
Aldo Moro in Bari, Italy.
Robert Fastiggi
is Professor of Systematic Theology at Sacred Heart Major Seminary, Detroit,
Michigan, usa.
Daniel Heider
is Assistant Professor at the University of South Bohemia and a research worker
at the Academy of the Sciences of the Czech Republic (Prague).
Simo Knuuttila
is Professor of Theological Ethics and the Philosophy of Religion at the
University of Helsinki in Finland.
John Kronen
is Professor of Philosophy at the University of St. Thomas, St. Paul, Minnesota,
usa.
Daniel Novotný
is Assistant Professor of Philosophy in the Faculty of Theology of the University
of South Bohemia in the Czech Republic.
Paul Pace, s.j.

is Senior Lecturer in Moral Theology at the University of Malta.
xii LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS ï»¿
José Pereira
is Professor Emeritus of Theology at Fordham University, Bronx, n.y., usa.
Michael Renemann
earned his Ph.D. in 2008 at the Ruhr-Universität, Bochum (Germany), and he’s
the author of Gedanken als Wirkursachen: Francisco Suárez zur geistigen
Hervorbringung (John Benjamins, 2010). He played a key role in the process of
digitalizing Suárez’s Disputationes metaphysicae for the internet.
Victor Salas
is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Sacred Heart Major Seminary, Detroit,
Michigan, usa.
chapter 1
Introduction
Francisco Suárez, the Man and His Work
Victor Salas and Robert Fastiggi
A truly bizarre anomaly within the history of thought occurred in 1564, one
which would have rendered this volume entirely otiose. In that year, a sixteen-
year old aspirant to the Society of Jesus—then a fledgling religious order
founded only a few decades earlier by Iñigo López de Loyola—was rejected for
admission to the order.1 To be sure, there is nothing extraordinary about an
aspirant’s being declined admission to various religious orders, yet when that
aspirant turns out to be Scholasticism’s future Doctor eximius, Francisco
Suárez, and the reason given for his rejection was a lack of intellectual gifts,
which were prerequisite for an order whose charism is synonymous with edu-
cation and the intellectual life, even the most casual observer is likely to be
more than a little intrigued. Yet Suárez’s rejection from the Jesuits is an indis-
putable historical fact. In fact, as Joseph Henry Fichter explains in his biogra-
phy of the Spanish thinker, most of Suárez’s youth was rather unremarkable,
commonplace, and hardly notable for any academic promise.2 Moreover,
Fichter’s estimate of Suárez’s lacklustre intellect appears to be shared by Suárez
himself, who, upon eventual probationary admission to the Jesuits after at
least one unsuccessful appeal to the provincial of Castile,3 asked to remain a
lay brother (instead of being sent on for further studies to be ordained to the
priesthood) because he did not have confidence in his own ability to pass his
philosophical course of studies4—and this from the man who would publish
the first systematic account of metaphysics (viz., Disputationes metaphysicae)
and whose philosophical vision would, in the words of one historian of phi-
losophy, serve “as the main channel by which scholasticism came to be known
by modern classical philosophers”!5
1 Raoul De Scorraille, François Suarez de la Compagnie de Jésus (Paris, 1912), vol. 1, pp. 43–44.
A condensed chronological chart of important dates and events in Suárez’s life can be found
in the opening pages (xix–xxi) of this same work.
2 See Joseph Henry Fichter, Man of Spain: Francis Suarez (New York, 1940).
3 Ibid., p. 48.
4 Ibid., p. 52.
5 Armand Maurer, Medieval Philosophy (New York, 1962), p. 356.
© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2015 | doi 10.1163/9789004283930_002

2 Salas and Fastiggi
Suárez’s luminous career spent entirely as an academic and as Spain’s most

celebrated theologian—sought after for important academic positions by no
less than the king—makes accounts of his youthful obtuseness unfathomable.
Yet so it was. Sixteen years earlier, on 5 January 1548, Suárez was born in
Granada (recently reconquered by Spain)6 to Antonia Vasquez and Gaspar
Suárez, members of a well-to-do family whose service to the king and country
was well known.7 When he was only thirteen, Francisco went to Salamanca to
study canon law for three years, where he barely passed his course of studies.8
It was during his time at Salamanca that the young Spaniard fell under the
spell of Juan Ramirez, an Andalusian Jesuit whose legendary sermons were
unparalleled in rousing the spirits of many to take up the religious life.9 Suárez
was among those who heard God’s call through Ramirez’s voice, and set his
own mind on joining the Society of Jesus. As already mentioned, Suárez was a
little over sixteen when, after much effort, many appeals, and a number of
rejections, on 16 June 1564 he was finally granted admission to the Jesuits as an
‘indifferent’, that is, as someone whose future status in the Society as either a
priest or lay brother was left undetermined.10 Two years later, in August 1566,
Suárez professed his first simple vows.11
Despite his rather unremarkable performance in his early studies as a young
Jesuit, a radical—almost ‘overnight’—shift occurred in Suárez’s intellectual
ability, which defies easy explanation.12 Philosophical problems that had
seemed intractably twisted in Gordian knots one day were suddenly master-
fully unravelled. Fichter is convinced that Suárez’s academic blossoming
was due to a supernatural intervention brought about through the intercession
of Mary, the Mother of God.13 Likewise, De Scoraille considers the possibility
of divine intervention, citing as examples of such occurrences the legends
of Albertus Magnus and Duns Scotus, who were said to have received similar
prodigious intellectual gifts after seeking the intercession of the Blessed
Virgin.14 Whatever the explanation, whether natural or supernatural, among
his superiors there was no doubt about Suárez’s new-found intellectual gifts,
6 Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 6. For more on the cultural atmosphere of reconquered Spain,
see ibid., c. 2.
7 Ibid., pp. 11–12.
8 Ibid., p. 38.
9 Ibid., p. 45; cf. also De Scorraille, François Suarez, vol. 1, p. 35, n. 3.
10 Ibid., p. 51.
11 Ibid., p. 53.
12 Ibid., p. 69.
13 Ibid.
14 De Scorraille, François Suarez, de la Compagnie de Jésus, pp. 60–61.
Introduction 3
and with new-found confidence he was sent on to study theology from

1566–1570.15
So incredible and complete was Suárez’s intellectual transformation that in
the spring of 1570, only four years after his first profession of simple vows, he
performed what was referred to as a ‘Grand Act’ at the University of Salamanca.16
Carried out by only the most select and academically gifted students, a Grand
Act, similar to the medieval quodlibetal disputes, was a public academic exer-
cise in which a student was examined on a host of topics ranging from philoso-
phy to theology, and answered questions put to him by professors and any
visitors present. The Grand Act occurred in two sessions held within a single
day.17 Suárez’s own performance was marked with some controversy, as one of
the theses he had selected to defend was the Immaculate Conception.18 Juan
Mancio, the Dominican professor overseeing the event, had reluctantly agreed
to allow the young Jesuit to proceed with the Grand Act after receiving Suárez’s
assurance that he would defend the thesis using the Fathers of the Church as
his principal sources. Given that by now Suárez was somewhat of a celebrity,
the event was attended by a number of dignitaries, including the Jesuit supe-
rior general, Francis Borgia. Without surprise, and much to the delight of those
assembled, Suárez performed spectacularly.19
Later that same year, Suárez was called to Salamanca to serve as a philoso-
phy teacher to an incoming group of young religious.20 Among his young
pupils was Gregory of Valencia,21 who, only two years younger than Suárez,
15 Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 74.

16 Ibid., 82.
17 Ibid.
18 Advocated most prominently by the Franciscan John Duns Scotus (c. 1265–1308) in the
fourteenth century, the Immaculate Conception was the subject of controversy for
several centuries, with the Dominicans being its main opponents. Due in part to Suárez’s
defense of the doctrine, the Immaculate Conception came to enjoy papal support. Several
weeks before the Jesuit’s death, Paul V, with his Bull, Sanctissimus of 12 September 1617,
forbade any public opposition to the doctrine, although he made it clear “that he was not
condemning the opposing view;” see Michael O’Carroll, C.S.Sp., Theotokos: A Theological
Encyclopedia of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Eugene, or, 2000), p. 181. Scotus’s position in
favour of Mary’s Immaculate Conception, however, was offered with a tone of tentative-
ness because it stood in opposition to the majority opinion of his day. This, combined
with Scotus’s novel position on the primacy of the Incarnation, may very well have been
the reason the Franciscan was moved from Paris to Cologne.
19 Fichter, Man of Spain, pp. 82–84.
20 De Scorraille, François Suarez, vol. 1, pp. 117–118; Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 70.
21 Known as the Doctor doctorum, Gregory of Valencia (c. 1549–1603) wrote many polemical
writings against the ideas of the Lutherans and the Calvinists, which he collected in his
would himself become a well-renowned professor of philosophy and theology

at the Roman College and the University of Ingolstadt.22 A year later, in 1571,
Suárez, not yet ordained a priest, was sent to Segovia to help breathe new life
into the Jesuit College. Founded in 1559, the school had gradually reduced to
only a few dozen students and was forced to close in 1570, but an outcry from
the public, which had become fond of the institution, brought about a re-
opening of the school the following year. Suárez was charged with the task of
teaching the curso de artes, which in all actuality, as De Scorraille notes, marked
the beginning of his professorial career.23 It was in Segovia that Suárez made
his solemn profession of vows on 14 December 1571,24 and was ordained a
priest sometime in March 1572, at the relatively young age of twenty-five,25 the
minimum age allowed by canon law.26
Life following Suárez’s ordination was spent teaching and writing. He taught
philosophy at Valladolid until 1574, when he took up the task of teaching
theology, a task he carried out until 158027 (with only one absence during the
1574–1575 school year, when he had a brief teaching stint at Segovia).28 As was
the common practice with most theologians at the time, Suárez’s teaching
centred upon Thomas Aquinas’s Summa theologiae.29 In fact, Thomas’s Summa
had gradually come to replace Peter the Lombard’s Sentences as the theological
text par excellence, upon which all theologians cut their teeth. Nevertheless,
despite Suárez’s adherence to the traditional doctrines of Catholicism and
his careful use of Aquinas’s doctrine for their illumination, the Jesuit’s own
doctrines were considered ‘too novel’ and therefore, not surprisingly, hetero-
dox. However, after an investigation by the Society’s superior general and
a letter explaining Suárez’s teaching, the young Jesuit seemed to have been
volume, De rebus fidei hoc tempore controversis (Lyons 1591; Paris 1610). His major work,
Commentariorum theologicorum tomi quator (Ingolstadt 1591–1597; revised 1603), is
considered the first complete work of systematic theology written by a Jesuit. During
the De auxiliis controversy, he defended the position of Molina. See G. Van Ackern,
“Gregory of Valencia” in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed. Vol. 6 (Detroit, mi, 2003),
pp. 523–524.
23 De Scorraille, François Suarez, vol. 1, p. 130.
24 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 132; Ficther, Man of Spain, p. 96.
25 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 133; Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 96.
26 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 131.
27 De Scorraille, François Suarez, vol. 1, 149; cf. John P. Doyle, Collected Studies on Francisco
Suárez, s.j. (1548–1617), ed. Victor M. Salas (Leuven, 2010), p. 3.
28 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 150.
Introduction 5
exonerated, for shortly thereafter he was called to teach at the Roman College,
the premier Jesuit institution of education at the time.30
In Rome, as Fichter suggests, Suárez was truly at the “center of the world,”31
that is, in the heart of a remarkably international setting wherein competing
theological theories and positions vied against one another as blade sharpen-
ing blade. The Roman College, at one time or another, also included among
its ranks: Robert Bellarmine, Christopher Clavius, Tomás Sánchez de Ávila,
Luis de Molina, and Gabriel Vázquez, to name only a few. Unlike the difficulties
he encountered at Valladolid, Suárez’s experience in Rome was much more
liberating, as he was able to teach and develop his doctrines without the suspi-
cion that often accompanies novelty. He lectured on the end of man during his
first year there, followed by courses on moral theology in his second year.32
During Suárez’s third year at the Roman College he lectured on grace and on
the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love.33 Despite the great success
Suárez enjoyed at the Roman College, the effect of the Roman climate on his
health—which was never very robust in the first place—began to take its toll.
Consequently, the 1584–1585 school year, during which Suárez lectured on the
Incarnation, was to be his last in Rome, after which he departed for the college
at Alcalá.34
At Alcalá, Suárez had a hand in implementing the new Jesuit pedagogical
ground plan, the Ratio Studiorum. Initially, Thomas Aquinas’s theological
vision was simply set as a model to emulate, but not to follow ‘slavishly’.35
Nevertheless, this position towards Thomas resulted in a backlash against the
Society in Spain, led by none other than the Spanish Inquisition, headed then
by Cardinal Quiroga. Culminating in the arrest of four Jesuit priests, the matter
was finally settled and the priests were eventually released following a flurry of
letters from the Jesuit superior general to Pope Sixtus V, after which some com-
promises were made on the part of the Jesuits.36 The ‘compromise’ here was a
revision of the Ratio Studiorum, in which Thomas Aquinas was to hold primacy
once again, and his theological doctrines were to be taught exclusively.37
Fichter suggests that Suárez’s own diplomatic effort to ameliorate the tension
30 Ibid., pp. 111–119.

31 Ibid., pp. 121–131.
32 Ibid., p. 129.
33 Ibid., p. 130.
34 Ibid., p. 126.
35 Ibid., p. 136.
36 Ibid., pp. 137–138.
37 Ibid., pp. 140–141.
between the Inquisition and the Spanish Jesuits can be found in Suárez’s
dedication of his first publication, the De Incarnatione, to Quiroga.38 After a
number of revisions made on the basis of the Alcalá Jesuit professors’ experi-
ence in the classroom, the general superior, Aquaviva, issued the final version
of the Ratio in 1591, which, while not immune from further revision and
fine-tuning, was nevertheless binding on the whole Order. Eventually, a third
edition of the Ratio, which integrated two rather divergent educational
models—one, a formal and unifying method from the Roman College, and the
other favouring a more liberal approach from the Jesuit schools in Spain—was
promulgated in 1599.39
Alcalá, as already mentioned, witnessed Suárez’s first publication, the De
Incarnatione,40 which, after some delay due to a scarcity of materials (owing to
the military conflict between Spain and England at the time), went to print in
1590.41 This work is actually a commentary on questions 1–26 of the tertia pars
of Thomas’s Summa theologiae, though Suárez’s treatment of the material is
much more extensive than Thomas’s. In the Vivès edition, the Jesuit’s com-
mentary takes up two volumes (17 and 18) of 675 and 668 pages in length,
respectively (excluding indices). Suárez deals with the mystery of the
Incarnation in fifty-six disputations. He begins with the affirmation that Christ
is the real Messiah, and then shows him to be true God and man. Suárez then
discusses numerous Christological questions, with special attention on: what
was assumed by the Incarnate Word (disputations 12–17); the graces, virtues,
gifts, knowledge, and perfections possessed by Christ (disputations 18–31); and
various other issues such as Christ, the High Priest (disputation 46), and the
adoration owed to Christ as God (disputation 51). Again, unlike Thomas, Suárez
affirms more openly that God would have become incarnate even if man
had not sinned (disputation 5). He does so, though, in a very subtle manner
by distinguishing between the primary motive for the Incarnation in terms of
predestination, and its primary motive and effect in terms of historical reality.
The volumes of De Incarnatione, because of the rigorous debate they generated
and the many questions they raised, underwent three editions, with each suc-
cessive edition marking Suárez’s attempt to respond to his critics.42
In 1592, a few years after the initial appearance of the De Incarnatione,
Suárez published a continuation of his commentary on the third part of
38 Ibid., p. 139.
39 Ibid., p. 144.
40 This work occupies volumes 17–19 in the Vivès edition.
42 Ibid., p. 152.
Introduction 7
St. Thomas’s Summa theologiae, expounding on questions 27–59. The result is

a massive discussion, which comes to 1,120 pages of text in the Vivès edition
(volume 19). Although this volume can be understood as a continuation of De
Incarnatione, it is usually known under a different title, De Mysteriis Vitae
Christi. As suggested by the subtitle of De Mysteriis—ut et Scholasticae
Doctrinae studiosis, et Divini Verbi concionatoribus usui esse possit—Suárez’s
intention was twofold: one academic and the other pastoral, it was intended
for the benefit of scholars and as an aid to those tasked with the responsibility
of preaching the Word of God.43 The volume is divided into fifty-eight disputa-
tions, of which the first twenty-three deal with systematic questions related
to the Blessed Virgin Mary, such as her sanctification, virginity, marriage, puri-
fication, merits, graces, death, and glorious assumption. His treatment of
Mariological questions takes up 336 pages in the Vivès edition. Suárez’s treat-
ment is so thorough that he is often considered “the founder of systematic
Mariology.”44 While Suárez shows great respect for St. Thomas, he never
hesitates to take an opposing position. For example, unlike Aquinas, he affirms
Mary’s preservation from original sin via her Immaculate Conception
(disputation 4).
Illness, once again, would be the cause of Suárez’s departure from Alcalá,
but this time it was an illness caused by increasing fatigue, brought about by
the mental strain he suffered due to the constant rivalry between himself and
another Jesuit professor, Gabriel Vázquez. Suárez’s junior by only a year or so,
Vázquez was everything Suárez wasn’t: outgoing, popular with the students,
and of a temperamental disposition that did not suffer fools patiently. When
Suárez arrived at Alcalá it was to assume Vázquez’s old position, which the
younger Jesuit had vacated to take a position at the Roman College. As already
noted, the Roman College was truly international in scope, but that did not
prevent bouts of nationalistic rivalries of patriotic zeal from flaring up. A num-
ber of the Italian Jesuits, it seems, were less than approving of the Spanish, so
much so that Vázquez found the environment intolerable and asked for
another assignment. His request was eventually granted, and after teaching for
five years at the Roman College, Vázquez returned to Alcalá in 1591.45
Alcalá welcomed Vázquez as a native son returning home, but a home that
had no more room because it was occupied by a new tenant: Suárez. It is hardly
surprising that a sort of rivalry should form between the two great Jesuit theo-
logians, and, given Vázquez’s volatile personality, that he would hound the

44 O’Carroll, Theotokos, p. 334; cf. n. 18 supra.
older Jesuit mercilessly. In fact, Fichter reports that when Vázquez received his
students for the afternoon class he was given to teach (the more enviable class
being the morning class, which was taught by Suárez), the irascible Jesuit
would ask his students in a sarcastic tone with respect to Suárez, “Quid dixit
vetulus mane?/What did the old man say this morning?”46 Alcalá, it seems, was
not big enough for the two colossal giants of Baroque Scholasticism, and in the
struggle for acceptance, Suárez was at a decided disadvantage. Vázquez was
lively, boisterous, and popular, in addition to being a brilliant theologian.
Suárez, in contrast, though equally brilliant, was of a frail constitution, and,
while not exactly melancholic, was hardly a social butterfly. The overbearing
presence of Vázquez and the constant barbs of critique thrown Suárez’s way,
along with the strain of teaching, eventually led to a decline in the latter’s
health.47 At last, Suárez resigned his position at Alcalá and left in the fall of
1593, after which he headed to Salamanca where, at last, he was granted the
peace he needed to devote himself to study and writing. (Not surprisingly,
Vázquez assumed his old position.)
Salamanca, in contrast to Alcalá, was all too eager to receive its most famous
son, Suárez,48 though his time there would be short. In May 1596, Philip II
wrote to the Jesuits asking that Suárez be given the principal chair of theology
(which had recently become vacant) at the University of Coimbra.49 Content
with his position at Salamanca—which was, for any academic, a dream job,
where the Jesuit was free to devote his energies entirely to writing and study
without being burdened with the distractions and annoyances that come with
teaching—Suárez graciously (and diplomatically) declined the King’s appoint-
ment. Suárez’s reason was that such an appointment might cause a disruption
in the delicate relationship between the Dominicans and the Society of Jesus,
since for decades the Domincans had held the position that was now being
offered to the Jesuit. Philip, however, was not satisfied with Suárez’s excuse,
and dismissing the idea that tensions would arise between the two religious
orders, on 27 May 1596 he insisted to the Jesuits that Suárez be ordered to take
the post. Suárez did take leave of Salamanca, but instead of heading for
Coimbra he went to Toledo, where he pleaded his case before the king in per-
son. After witnessing the Jesuit’s frail appearance, Philip relented and con-
ceded to Suárez’s request to remain in Salamanca.50 Suárez’s peace was
46 Ibid., p. 183.
47 Ibid., pp. 168–170.
48 Ibid., p. 183.
49 Ibid., p. 205.
50 Ibid., pp. 204–207.
Introduction 9
short-lived, however, since Antonio Domingo, the Dominican named to the

chair, died in late 1596, which left the position vacant once again. This time
Philip would have his way, and on 10 February 1597 the king wrote the Jesuits
for a third time, ordering that Suárez accept the post. With a sense of the futil-
ity that any resistance would meet, Suárez went to Coimbra without protest.51
At this same time, Suárez was in the midst of planning one of his master-
pieces, a text that would shape the future of Western metaphysics well into
the eighteenth century: the Disputationes metaphysicae. A theologian by
profession, Suárez tells us in his preface ad lectorem of the Disputationes that,
for quite some time, he thought it would be profitable for the execution of
his professorial task to compose a systematic treatise on the metaphysical
principles that his theological work presumed. So crucial did he think such
a clarification of the metaphysical basis of his theological vision was that
Suárez halted work on his commentary on the Tertia pars of Thomas’s Summa
theologiae in order to begin his mammoth metaphysical project.52 With
remarkable speed, the Jesuit completed the two-thousand-page work by 1597,
in one year’s time. A two-volume work, the first volume consisted of disputa-
tions one through twenty-seven, and the second volume, comprising disputa-
tions twenty-eight through fifty-four, begins with the confession that he hoped
no one finished with the first volume before the second was available.53
The Disputationes metaphysicae straddle two philosophical epochs: medi-
eval Scholasticism and early modern philosophy. As Gilson points out, it is still
a very medieval text insofar as it locates itself within the framework of a larger
metaphysical tradition, in which the positions of various thinkers are explored
and critically evaluated before Suárez offers his own magisterial position.54
51 Ibid., pp. 207–208.

52 dm, praefatio ad lectorem (ed. Vivès, vol. 25): “Quemadmodum fieri nequit ut quis
Theologus perfectus evadat, nisi firma prius metaphysicae jecerit fundamenta, ita intellexi
semper, operae pretium fuisse ut, antequam Theologica scriberem Commentaria (quae
partim jam in lucem prodiere, partim collaboro, ut quam primum, Deo favente, complean-
tur), opus hoc, quod nunc, Christiane lector, tibi offero, diligenter elaboratum praemit-
terem. …Et quamvis in eo opera elaborando [i.e., his commentary on the Summa] diutius
immoratus fuerim quam initio putaverm, et quam multorum expostulatio, qui commen-
taria illa in tertiam partem, vel (si sperari potest) in universam D. Thom. Summam, per-
fecta desiderant, tamen suscepti laboris nunquam me poenitere potuit, confidoque
lectorem sententiam meam, vel ipso adductum experiment, comprobaturum.”
53 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25): “…quamvis aliud eo [i.e., volume 1] jam processerit, ut existimem,
non prius hanc partem perlectam fore, quam illa fuerit in lucem edita.” Cf. Doyle, Collected
Studies on Francisco Suárez, s.j. (1548–1617), pp. 6–7.
54 Cf. Étienne Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers (Toronto, 1952), p. 96.
John P. Doyle comments that, in the course of the fifty-four disputations,

Suárez cites “[a]lmost every conceivable Greek, Arabic, Patristic, and espe-
cially Scholastic writer.”55 Among these citations, which refer to 245 different
thinkers, Suárez cites Aristotle 1,735 times, Thomas Aquinas 1,008 times,
Duns Scotus 363 times, and Cajetan 299 times, to name only a few of the most
important figures in the Western philosophical tradition.56 Thus, Gilson makes
no exaggeration when he remarks that “Suarez enjoys such a knowledge of
mediaeval philosophy as to put to shame any modern historian of mediaeval
thought.”57 What is more, in evaluating the celebrated theses of various think-
ers preceding him (both pro and con) before adopting his own nuanced
position, Suárez’s Disputationes still mirror the medieval literary genre ‘par
excellence’, namely, the quaestio disputata.58
Nevertheless, this metaphysical work remains novel within the history of
philosophy. Departing from the medieval tradition, the Disputationes metaphy-
sicae are organized according to the inner exigencies of the science of meta-
physics itself, and not according to the haphazard organization of the
cobbled-together treatises given the title Metaphysics. Hence, Suárez’s work
stands in contrast to the numerous medieval commentaries that, while
attempting to elucidate the teaching of the Stagirite (oftentimes developing
certain themes or ideas well beyond what is found in Aristotle), still remained
very much indebted to the order and demands of the text(s). Suárez’s depar-
ture from this style was deliberate, for, as he tells us:
I had always judged that, in understanding and penetrating into the

meaning of things, there was great value in inquiring into and judging
them by a suitable method, which I was hardly able to respect or not at all
if I were required to treat all the questions [pertinent to metaphysics]
incidentally and as though by chance, according as they occur in the text
of the Philosopher.59
55 John P. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 7.

56 Ibid.; cf. ibid., p. 7, n. 45.
57 Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers, p. 99.
58 Cf. Philipp W. Rosemann, Understanding Scholastic Thought With Foucault (New York,
1999), pp. 88–95.
59 dm, ratio et discursus totius operis. Ad lectorem (ed. Vivès, vol. 25): “Et quoniam judicavi
semper, magnam ad res intelligendas ac penetrandas, in eis convenienti methodo inqui-
rendis et judicandis, vim positam esse, quam observare vix aut ne vix quidem possem si,
expositorum more, quaestiones omnes, prout obiter et veluti casu circa textum Philosophi
occurunt….” Translation from José Pereira, Suárez: Between Scholasticism and Modernity
(Milwaukee, wi, 2007), 13.
Introduction 11
The result of Suárez’s efforts was an architectonic masterpiece that covered the
entire field of metaphysics. José Pereira observes that, while it is true that ear-
lier Renaissance philosophers such as Agostino Nifo, Crisostomo Javelli, and
Diego Mas had themselves authored metaphysical treatises that were hardly
commentaries on the Aristotelian Metaphysics, their works lacked the same
scope and breadth as the Disputationes metaphysicae.60
A cursory glance through the contents of Suárez’s metaphysical treatise
confirms Pereira’s comment. The opening disputation concerns the nature of
metaphysics and its proper object, which Suárez identifies as ‘ens inquantum
ens reale’.61 The second disputation treats the way being is known in terms of
formal and objective concepts, with the latter being particularly crucial for the
Suárezian metaphysics, inasmuch as real, possible, infinite, finite, substantial,
and accidental being can be known through it. Simply following along the
Scholastic tradition which had already treated the matter thoroughly,62 Suárez
tells us that, while formal concepts are “said to be the act [of the intellect]
itself, or, what is the same, the word (verbum) by which the intellect conceives
some thing or common character,”63 the objective concept, in contrast, “is said
to be that thing or character (ratio) which is properly and immediately repre-
sented or known through the formal concept.”64 Disputation three concerns
the general character and principles of being, while the fourth disputation
opens a discussion on the transcendental character of unity, which is explored
in further detail in the fifth and sixth disputations. After a discussion pertain-
ing to various kinds of distinction (the seventh disputation), Suárez addresses
issues related to the transcendentals of truth (disputations eight and nine) and
goodness (disputations ten and eleven), before moving onto a consideration of
the cause of being in general (disputation twelve) and then the four causes in
particular: material (disputations thirteen and fourteen), formal (disputations
60 Pereira, Suárez, p. 14.

61 dm 1.1.26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11): “Dicendum est ergo, ens in quantum ens reale esse objec-
tum adaequatum hujus scientiae.”
62 See, for instance, Pedro da Fonseca, Commentaria in libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis,
(Cologne, 1615), vol. 1, lib. 4, c. 2, s. 1: “Atque ut a distinctione conceptus ordiamur: prin-
cipio ponatur duplicem esse conceptum: formalem unum alterum obiectivum….
Conceptus formalis nihil est aliud, quam actualis similitude rei, que intelligitur, ab intellectu
ad eam exprimendam producta…. Conceptus obiectivus est res, que intelligitur, secundum
eam formam, naturamve que per formalem concipitur” (emphases in original).
63 dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “…conceptus formalis dicitur actus ipse, seu (quod idem
est) verbum quo intellectus rem aliquam seu commune rationem concipit.…”
64 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “Conceptus objectivus dicitur res illa, vel ratio, quae proprie
et immediate per conceptum formalem cognoscitur seu repraesentatur.…”
fifteen and sixteen), efficient (disputations seventeen through twenty-two),

and final causes (disputations twenty-three and twenty-four). Suárez con-
cludes the first volume with a discussion of exemplar causality (disputation
twenty-five) and additional issues pertaining to the relationship between
causes and effects (disputation twenty-six) as well as causes as they relate to
one another (disputation twenty-seven).
Suárez opens his second volume with the twenty-eighth disputation, in
which he discusses the manner in which the concept of being descends to its
‘inferiors’, namely, from infinite to finite being. This disputation offers one of
Suárez’s fullest expositions of his doctrine of analogy. In this disputation,
Suárez attempts to negotiate a very delicate balance between the absolute
unity of the concept of being, coming close to the univocation theory of John
Duns Scotus on the one hand,65 while admitting an ordered, unequal relation
among being’s inferiora, on the other hand. Also of note here is Suárez’s cri-
tique and rejection of Cajetan’s analogy of proper proportionality, in favour of
an analogy of (intrinsic) attribution.66 Moving on to distinction twenty-nine,
Suárez, critical of Thomas’s dictum that ‘omne quod movetur ab alio movetur’,
replaces it with ‘omne quod fit ab alio fit’ through which he offers his demon-
stration for God’s existence. The thirtieth disputation treats what may be
referred to as Suárez’s natural theology, as it discusses the various attributes
and properties of God. The thirty-first disputation discusses the attributes of
finite being before considering the division of being into substantial and acci-
dental being in general (disputation thirty-two). Disputations thirty-three
through thirty-six offer additional treatments of substance, shifting gears in
disputations thirty-seven through fifty-three wherein a detailed analysis of
accidental being in general, and each of the nine Aristotelian categories of
accident in particular, is provided, with each category being explored in min-
ute detail. Suárez closes his metaphysical project with the fifty-fourth disputa-
tion in which he discusses entia rationis. Although ‘beings of reasons’ were
originally set aside as not properly pertaining to the study of metaphysics—for
real being and beings of reason do not fall under the common concept of
being—in this last disputation Suárez considers the ‘shadowy reality’67 of
65 Because of Suárez’s defence of the unity of the concept of being, he has more often than
not been accused simply of advancing an incoherent form of Scotistic univocity. See, e.g.,
Walter Hoeres “Francis Suarez and the Teaching of John Duns Scotus on the Univocatio
Entis,” in John Duns Scotus, 1265–1965, eds. J.K. Ryan and B.M. Bonansea (Washington,
D.C., 1965), pp. 263–290.
66 Cf. dm 28.3.11, 16–17.
67 Cf. dm 54.Prol. (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 1015): “Nam imprimis, cum entia rationis non sint
vera entia, sed quasi umbrae entium, non sunt per se intelligibilia, sed per aliquam
Introduction 13
beings of reason insofar as they relate to real being. Suárez’s metaphysical

speculations here would be of crucial importance and significance for future
thinkers such as Clemens Timpler, Johannes Clauberg, Andreas Semery, Luis
de Lossada, Thomas Compton Carleton, and a host of others, for whom entia
rationis would fall within the scope of metaphysics.68 Here, one can correctly
view Suárez’s thoughts on entia rationis as the seedbed from which early
modern ‘tinologies’ would later blossom.69
Without doubt, Suárez’s Disputationes metaphysicae is comprehensive and
exhaustive. Its density of argument and staggering size make most modern
metaphysical treatises, such as Descartes’s Meditations or Discourse, seem like
nothing more than a floppy pamphlet fit for swatting flies. Suárez’s treatise, in
contrast, could kill a man—if used with determined violence, that is. Used
for less violent purposes, the Disputationes metaphysicae was a bestseller both
in Suárez’s own time and after. With the profits he received from the work,
Suárez, with the permission of his superiors, built up the college at Salamanca,
founding a new addition now known as the ‘Suarezian Quarter’. He also made
provisions for the library, establishing a fund that would provide books for the
school for years to come.70
Nevertheless, ever the obedient Jesuit, Suárez took his leave of Salamanca
and headed to Coimbra. Coimbra, however, would not be a source of peace for
Suárez since, as had already been brewing for decades, the De auxiliis contro-
versy was about to boil over from the squabbles that had irritated the Spanish
Dominicans and Jesuits, disrupting the entire Church and requiring Clement
VIII’s intervention into the matter. Suárez was well aware of the controversies
concerning the respective positions of the Jesuit, Molina, and the Dominican,
Bañez, regarding the question of how to reconcile predestination and grace
with free will. Molina believed that sufficient grace is made efficacious by the
free consent of the will, while Bañez held that sufficient grace is made effica-
cious by its own intrinsic power. Suárez had been lecturing and writing on
analogiam et conjunctionem ad vera entia, et ideo nec etiam sunt per se scibilia, nec
datur scientia quae per se primo propter illa solum cognoscenda sit institute.”
68 John P. Doyle has perhaps done the most work to track the history and development
of entia rationis as standing outside of metaphysics to becoming gradually incorporated
into this same science by the later Scholastics. See his On the Borders of Being and
Knowing: Some Late Scholastic Thoughts on Supertranscendental Being, ed. Victor M. Salas
(Leuven, 2012).
69 On the relationship between Suárez and early modern tinology, see Jean-François
Courtine, Suarez et le systèm de la métaphysique (Paris, 1990), pp. 536–538, and Doyle, On
the Borders of Being and Knowing.
these issues for some time, and in 1599 he published six treatises, or Opuscula,
on the issue. Clement VIII established a commission, the Congregatio de auxi-
liis, in November of 1597 to try to resolve the dispute between the Jesuits and
the Dominicans. During this time, Suárez sent his Opuscula to the Jesuit gen-
eral, Claudius Aquaviva (1545–1615), and eventually the Pope himself consulted
these treatises, once they were published in Rome. The Congregatio de auxiliis
had not concluded at the time of Clement VIII’s death in March of 1605, and it
was taken up again by Paul V, who resolved the controversy with a formula
issued on 5 September 1607 that essentially allowed the Dominicans and the
Jesuits freedom to defend their respective positions, provided they did not
label the positions of their opponents as heretical.71
Suárez and Bellarmine both defended a modification of Molina’s position,
known as Congruism, which was eventually favoured by the Jesuits and men-
tioned as a defensible position in a letter by Pope Benedict XIV to the Grand
Inquisitor of Spain on 31 July 1748.72 The name ‘Congruism’ derives from the
belief that sufficient grace is made efficacious “because it is given in circum-
stances congruous to its operation.”73 It is a modification of Molinism, as it
recognizes that efficacious grace differs from sufficient grace in terms of
its first movement, which is from God Himself. God, however, seeks the free
cooperation of the will with this efficacious grace by means of circumstances
that are congruous with that free assent. John Hardon explains that God not
only gives “the grace which He knows to be efficacious,” but He gives it “because
He foresees it will be efficacious.”74
After residing in Coimbra for only two years, in 1599 a plague developing in
the region forced Suárez—whose health, as already noted, was never robust to
begin with—to seek refuge in Ávila and then in his beloved Salamanca.
Eventually the epidemic subsided and Suárez was able to return to Coimbra
and resume his responsibilities, which consisted principally in the composi-
tion of theological texts.75 Between 1601 and 1603 Suárez began lecturing on the
questions that would eventually be published as his De legibus,76 the impor-
tance of which simply cannot be overestimated. Much like its metaphysical
counterpart, the Disputationes metaphysicae, the De legibus is an expansive and
71 Denzinger, Heinrich and Peter Hünermann, Enchirdion symbolorum definitionum et decla-

rationum de rebus fidei et morum, 43rd ed. (Freiburg, 2010) no. 1997; henceforth, Denz.-H.
72 Denz.-H, 2564–2565.
73 Fichter, 231.
74 John Hardon, s.j., History and Theology of Grace (Ypsilanti, mi, 2002), p. 275.
76 Ibid., pp. 240–241.
Introduction 15
systematic treatment of law in all its instantiations: divine or eternal, natural,

international (i.e., ius gentium), and positive or human. The work is divided
into ten books, and opens with a discussion of law in general: what is signified
by the name ‘law’, how law is related to justice, the necessity for a variety of
laws, the character (ratio) of law, and a host of other considerations related to
the nature of law.77 Suárez explains that in its broadest or most general sense,
‘law’ is the rule and measure of good operations that lead toward the better
and away from the less good.78 Properly and absolutely speaking, what is called
‘law’ pertains to customs (mores), for it is the measure of moral acts and moral
rectitude.79 Etymologically, law is taken from the word ‘binding’ (ligando), for,
as Suárez tells us, “its proper effect is to bind or oblige.”80 The second book
moves on to treat the specific kinds of law mentioned above. Here, Suárez’s
contrast with Thomas Aquinas is fairly clear. For Thomas, law (whether divine,
natural, or human) is always ultimately a feature of the divine ideas and thus
stems from the divine reason.81 Suárez, however, associates law with the will.
According to the Jesuit, the eternal law pertains to the decrees of God’s free
will, as it ordains all parts of the universe toward the common good.82
Descending to the natural law, Suárez explains that, like every other non-
divine law, it participates in the eternal law.83 As Suárez notes, according to
some, the natural law is nothing other than rational nature itself, a position he
he affirms but for which he gives further qualifications.84 As a rational nature
can be considered in a twofold way, the natural law can also be considered
77 Cf. De leg., 1.
78 De leg., 1.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 1): “…[lex] est quaedam regula et mensura operationis
bonae ad meliorem inducens, et a minus bona retrahens…”
79 Ibid., 1.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 2): “Propria ergo et absoluta appellation legis est, quae ad
mores pertinet: atque ita restringenda est D. Thomae descriptio, ut scilicet lex sit mensura
quaedam actuum moralium, ita ut per conformitatem ad illam, rectitudinem morale
habeant, et si ab illa discordant oblique sint.”
80 Cf. ibid., 1.1.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 3): “Atque hinc intulit D. Thomas in illo art. 1, qauest. 90,
etymologiam legis; putat enim a ligando sumptam esse, quia proprius effectus legis est
ligare, se obligare….”
81 See st II-I, q. 93, a. 1; cf. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 14.
82 Cf. De leg., 2.3.6 (ed. Vivès: vol. 5, p. 94): “…legem aeternam esse decretum liberum volun-
tatis Dei statuentis ordinem servandum, aut generaliter ab omnibus partibus universi, vel
saltem ratione singularem specierum ejus, aut specialiter servandum a creaturis intellec-
tualibus quoad liberas operations earum.” Cf. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 14.
83 Ibid., 2.1.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 86): “Denique omnis lex participate supponit legem per
essentiam: sed pex per essentiam aeterna est….”
84 Cf. ibid., 2.2.1 (ed. Vivès, 5, p. 100): “Dixerunt ergo aliqui hanc legem nihil aliud esse quam
ipsam naturam rationale, ut talis est.”
doubly: first, inasmuch as certain things either agree or disagree with that
nature, and second, inasmuch as that rational nature has, through the natural
light of reason, the power itself to judge what is in accord or discordant with
itself.85 Also pertaining to the natural law are the self-evident (per se) first gen-
eral moral principles, such as ‘do good’, ‘avoid evil’, etc., as well as the conclu-
sions that can be inferred from those principles.86 What is more, Suárez agrees
with the ‘common opinion’ of the theologians who hold that the natural law is
immutable and cannot be abrogated, not even by the pope, who can no more
dispense the natural law than he can the divine law.87 Suárez thus disagrees
with both Ockham, who holds that God could annul the Decalogue and natu-
ral law, and Duns Scotus, who taught that God could dispense with those
precepts of the Decalogue that pertain to creatures.88 According to the Jesuit,
the natural law cannot be abrogated even by the absolute power of God.89
Occupying a middle position between natural and positive human law is
the ius gentium, or law of nations.90 Here, Suárez very much drew upon and
85 Ibid., 2.5.1 (ed. Vivès, 5, p. 100): “…adverte oportet rationalem naturam dupliciter spectari
posse: uno modo secundum se, id est, quatenus ratione talis essentiae, quam habet,
quaedam habet, quaedam sunt illi convenienta, et alia disconvenientia: alio modo quate-
nus vim habet judicandi de his quae sibi convenient, vel disconveniunt, mediante lumine
naturalis rationis.”
86 Cf. ibid., 2.7.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 113): “…quaedam sunt prima principia generalia morum,
ut sunt illa, honestum est faciendum, pravum vitandum; quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri ne
feceris, et similia; de quibus etiam nulla est dubitation, et a fortiori patebit ex dicendis. In
tertio ordine ponimus conclusiones quae per evidentem illationem ex principiis naturali-
bus inferuntur; et non nisi per discursum cognosci possunt…” (emphases in original).
87 Cf. ibid., 2.14.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 137): “Idem sentiunt theologi qui absolute negant Papam
posse dispensare in jure divino: nam si in positivo divino non potest, multo minus in
naturali quia et divinum etiam est immutabilius….”
88 Cf. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 15.
89 Cf. De leg., 2.15.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 148): “…ea quae continent intrinsecam rationem
justitiae et debiti indispensabilia sunt; sed hujusmodi sunt praecepta Decalogi; ergo.
Major patet, quia implicat contradictionem esse debitum et non esse debitum; quod
autem dispensator eo ipso fit indebitum; si autem habet debitum inseparabile, necessario
illud retinet: ergo repugnant dispensare quod hujusmodi est. Et ideo ait D. Thomas, nec
Deum dispensare posse, quia non potest agere contra suam justitiam, quod tamen ageret
si licentiam daret faciendi id quod per se et intrinsece injustum est.”
90 Yet, because the ius gentium has such an affinity with the natural law, Suárez warns that,
at times, many tend to conflate the two or make the ius gentium a part fo the natural law.
Cf. De leg., 2.17.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 159): “…quia [jus gentium] magnam habet cum jure
naturali affinitatem, ita ut a multuis cum illo confundatur, vel pars quaedam ejus esse
censeatur.”
Introduction 17
systematized Francisco de Vitoria’s teaching on the ius gentium, which would

come to serve as the basis for what would become known as ‘international
law’.91 While not merely a product of social convention, Suárez tells us that the
ius gentium nevertheless grows out of the customs of nearly all nations.92
Moreover, if it is a feature of all nations, this is because it functions as a product
or derivation of the exigencies proper to human nature, which though subject
to the particularities and contingent circumstances of various cultures, still
remains constant in its essential constitution throughout them.93 The ius gen-
tium can thus serve as a basis for the relation of various states with one another.
According to Suárez, the law of nations pertains to such matters as ambassado-
rial privileges, commerce, war, trade, marriage, et cetera.94
Book three concerns itself chiefly with civil or positive human law. As the
natural law is itself a participation and imitation of the eternal law, so is human
law considered an imitation—albeit more remotely—of its divine origin.
Humanity, graced with freedom and will, is itself the recipient of a God-
given authority to organize itself and form legislation that governs society.
Suárez says,
In this matter the common opinion is seen to be that this power [to form
political communities and author legislation] is given immediately by
God as the author of nature; therefore men quasi-dispose matter and
effect a capable subject with this power, God, however, quasi-bestows the
form giving this power.95
Here, Suárez pursues such topics as the obligatory character of civil law upon
the Church, whether civil law only pertains to proscribing good actions or also
91 For more on Vitoria and the ius gentium, see Anthony Pagden and Jeremy Lawrence, eds.,
Vitoria: Political Writings (Cambridge, 1991); Victor M. Salas, “Francisco de Vitoria on the
Ius Gentium and the American Indios,” Ave Maria Law Review 10.2 (2012): 331–342.
92 Cf. De leg., 2.19.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 168): “Praecepta juris gentium in hoc differunt a prae-
ceptis juris civilis, quia non scripto, sed moribus non unius vel alterius civitatis aut pro-
vinciae, sed omnium vel fere omnium nationum constat…”
93 Cf. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 15. See also idem, “Francisco Suárez on the Law of Nations,”
in Religion and International Law, eds. Mark Janis and Carolyn Evans (Lancaster, uk:
Kluwer, 1999), pp. 103–120, reprinted in Collected Studies, pp. 315–332.
94 Cf. De leg., 2.19.10; cf. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 15.
95 Cf. ibid., 3.3.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 182): “In hac re communis sententia videtur esse hanc
potestatem dari immediate a Deo ut auctore naturae, ita ut homines quasi disponant
materiam et efficient subjectum capax hujus potestatis, Deus autem quasi tribuat for-
mam dando hanc potestatem.” Cf. Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 244.
prohibiting evil ones, whether promulgation is necessary to constitute a civil

law, whether civil law binds in conscience, et cetera. In book four of the De legi-
bus Suárez addresses the issue of canon law. Of particular concern here is the
extent to which the Church has jurisdiction over its subjects, that is to say, the
relationship between Church and state. Suárez accords primacy to the Church,
with Christ as its head, since the state is likened to the Church “as the body is
subordinate to the soul.”96 Like his contemporary Bellarmine, however, he
does not believe the Church’s primacy over the state places all temporal affairs
under the direct jurisdiction of the Church. Rather, the primacy is due to the
superiority of the spiritual over the temporal. Book five moves on to consider
various kinds of human law, such as written and non-written laws. Here, Suárez
considers human law in relation to conscience, penalties, breaking contracts,
and the consequences thereof.
Beginning the second division of the De legibus, book six further develops
Suárez’s jurisprudence in terms of who is the proper interpreter of the law, and
what particular situations can bring about exceptions, abrogations, and emen-
dations of the law. Suárez devotes his seventh book to custom as it affects the
formation of civil law. Of special concern is the role that custom plays in the
codification of law. Here there is a close connection between morality and the
formation of law, since custom, as Suárez sees it, always presupposes
good moral character as a source of action.97 The Jesuit discusses the nature of
privilege in his eighth book, before concluding his work with a discussion of
the divine law both old and new in the ninth and tenth books, respectively.
With respect to the former (book nine), Suárez treats the Mosaic Law and its
obligatory character, but, as he notes, this is not a law that ‘saves’.98 The new
law, the subject of book ten, exceeds the old, since the new is the old law’s
completion and end. Following Paul, Suárez explains that the old law was a
propaedeutic for the new law.99 In fact, Suárez offers the analogy that the new
law is compared to the old law as “truth to shadow.”100 Accordingly, if the
old law is to have any salvific nature, it is only through the new law of grace
96 Ibid., 4.9.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 366): “…Christus Dominus Ecclesiam tanquam unum spiri-
tual regnum, in quo unus etiam esset rex, et princeps spiritualis; ergo necesse est ut ei
subdatur temporalis potestas, sicut corpus animae.”
97 Cf. ibid., 7.1.4; cf. also Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 246.
98 Cf. ibid. 9.7.1–14, (ed. Vivès, vol. 6, pp. 459–465); cf. n. 101 infra.
99 De leg., 10.8.18 (ed. Vivès, vol. 6, p. 597): “…excedit lex nova veterem, quia est finis illius, et
vetus fuit dispositio seu preparatio ad novam….”
100 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 6, p. 597): “…lex nova comparator ad veterem tanquam veritas ad
umbram….”
Introduction 19
that Christ effected salvation through his blood, which has “opened the gates
of heaven.”101
In the years immediately succeeding his courses on the law, Suárez
published two volumes devoted to the sacrament of penance: De poenitentia
(1602) and De censuris (1603).102 As he was serenely composing his work and
arguing for his claims with the exacting methodological detail that had been
the hallmark of his works, Suárez could have had no idea that some of the
theses contained in these volumes would later cause him a great deal of
headache, heartbreak, and, astonishingly for the champion of orthodoxy, even
excommunication.
Suárez was dealing here with a matter that had been discussed since the
time of Pope St. Leo I (c. 440–461). The initial question was whether absolution
should be denied to someone who had testified before others of his sorrow for
sin but was unable to confess them verbally when the priest arrived. This ques-
tion in turn led to questions about whether confessions and absolutions could
be carried out by mail. While some believed that both confession and absolu-
tion could be done by mail, by Suárez’s time this view had been widely rejected.
Suárez and others, however, believed that confessions might be possible by
mail from a distance, but absolution could only be given by a priest in the pres-
ence of the penitent.
Because there was much controversy over this issue, the Holy Office inter-
vened with a decree on 20 June 1602, which condemned as “false, rash, and
scandalous” the proposition that “it is permitted to confess sins sacramentally
to an absent confessor by letter or through a messenger and to receive absolu-
tion from this same absent confessor (et ab eodem absente absolutionem
obtinere).”103 Suárez accepted this ruling, but interpreted the copulative ‘et’ in
a conjunctive rather than a disjunctive manner. Thus, he believed the
decree condemned only the administration of the sacrament of penance
when both the confession of sins and the absolution occurred in the absence
of the priest. This interpretation, however, was rejected by a subsequent decree
of the Holy Office dated 7 June 1603, which concluded by saying that
101 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 6, p. 597): “Nam licet suo tempore utilis fuerit, cum tamen slavare
homines non potest, nec ad beatitudinem introducere, vana esset, nisi per christum
compleretur, qui et sanguine suo januas coeli aperuit, et initiavit nobis viam novam,
relicta lege gratiae, per quam illam consequi et in Sancta Sanctorum aeternae beatitudi-
nis introire valeamus.” Cf. Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 248.
103 Denz.-H, 1994.
“the above-mentioned doctrine of Father Suarez openly contradicts the defini-

tion of His Holiness.”104
Many people wrote letters in support of Suárez and his position, and, after
several delays, Suárez finally went to Rome in the spring of 1604 to meet with
Clement VIII and explain his position, while making clear his absolute submis-
sion to the authority of the Pope. Although the decree was never reversed,
Suárez’s humility and submission before the Roman Pontiff were duly noted.
Clement VIII died on 3 March 1605, and the succeeding pontificate of Leo XI
lasted less than a month (1–27 April 1605). After Pope Paul V (c. 1605–1621)
assumed the Chair of St. Peter on 16 May 1605, Suárez’s reputation with the
Holy See began to be reestablished. Although Paul V told him he could not
reverse the decision of Clement VIII, he expressed his admiration for Suárez,
and subsequently consulted with him frequently.105 With the thorny matter
finally settled and his reputation restored, Suárez departed Rome and returned
to Coimbra in the autumn of 1605.106
Suárez’s reputation would not remain ambiguous for long. In response to a
political crisis that was brewing between the Holy See and Venice, Suárez,
together with a number of other theologians (including Bellarmine, Baronius,
and Caetani), came to the defense of the Holy See. In nuce, the dispute cen-
tered upon the extent of papal jurisdiction, in light of Venice’s efforts to confis-
cate religious property, expel certain religious orders, and stand on the verge of
open warfare with Rome.107 Suárez’s intervention in the controversy consisted
in his work De immunitate ecclesiastica contra Venetos. As a sign of Pius V’s
appreciation for Suárez’s intervention and defense of ecclesiastical jurisdic-
tion, on October 1607 he bestowed upon the Jesuit theologian the title Doctor
eximius ac pius, which effectively put to an end any question of the Holy See’s
great estimation of Suárez, while offering the Jesuit some much-needed balm
to help heal the bruising he received from the De poenitentia fiasco.108
Suárez’s time at Coimbra was further taken up with additional extra-
academic responsibilities on behalf of the Society of Jesus and the larger
Church. In response to attacks against the Society by those within and outside
the Church, Suárez composed his De statu religionis, in which he deals with
religion both as a virtue governing the way an individual relates to God, and as
a ‘state’, that is, as a way of life in which the faithful congregate to give worship
104 Ibid., 1995.

106 Ibid., p. 263.
107 Ibid., pp. 271–272.
108 Ibid., pp. 272–273.
Introduction 21
to God.109 In this work, Suárez offers a reflection on the raison d’être of the
Society of Jesus, with a detailed exposition of its guiding principles.110
On behalf of the larger Church, in 1609 Philip III asked Suárez to take part in
the cause for the canonization of Teresa of Ávila. Suárez, personally acquainted
with Teresa, dutifully gave a favourable opinion of her works and character.111
At the king’s behest once again, in 1611 Suárez was also asked to take part in the
beatification of Queen Elizabeth of Aragon.112 Suárez’s intervention, however,
was less pleasant in the Mary Ward affair. Ward, a young English woman
who aimed to found religious institutes for the education of young girls,113
intended for her religious group to be the female branch of the Society of Jesus,
unique among religious orders in that, unlike the Benedictines, Franciscans,
Dominicans, etc., it does not have any female congregations or nuns. When
asked for his counsel regarding the supposed ‘Jesuitesses’, Suárez, while
acknowledging that their way of life was sincere and praiseworthy, noted
that their congregation lacked appropriate ecclesiastical approbation for its
founding, as well as a stable form of religious life.114
As controversial and distracting as these issues were for the Jesuit theolo-
gian, by far one of the most controversial episodes in Suárez’s life was his dis-
pute with James I of England. As is well known, the English monarchy would
be a significant thorn in the side of the papacy and for Catholic interests
throughout Europe. The oath of allegiance was one of many anti-Catholic
laws that James enacted, and it certainly attracted Rome’s undivided attention.
Paul V was quick to condemn the oath, while others, such as Robert Bellarmine,
subjected it to a blistering critique.115 Bellarmine’s critique, moreover,
unleashed a torrent of controversy between those faithful to Rome and James’s
theologians. With the approval of Philip III and encouragement from Paul V,
Suárez himself entered the fray, and his answer to the English monarch was his
weighty volume Defensio fidei catholicae adversus anglicanae sectae errores.
109 De rel., tr. 1, 1.2.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 13, p. 8): “…specialiori autem modo religionis vox applicata
est ad significandum peculiarem vivendi modum et statum, in quo aliqui fideles congre-
gatur ad perfectiori modo colendum Deum, et haec significatio nobis deserviet simul cum
alia priori, quae virtutem indicat.” Cf. also ibid., tr. 1, 1.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 13, p. 3): “…[religio]
non significare solius Dei cultum, sed etiam officium quod hominibus cognatis et affini-
bus, vel alia quacumque ratione nobis conjunctis….”
111 Ibid., pp. 281–283.
112 Ibid., pp. 283–284.
113 Ibid., p. 285.
114 Ibid., pp. 287–288.
115 Ibid., pp. 292–293.
The work was completed in 1610, but the time it took for final approval and
various publishing delays pushed the actual publication of the volume back to
1613.116 The Defensio is a detailed examination of the questions raised by James
I. It consists of six books, is 735 pages in length, and takes up volume 24 in the
Vivès edition. Within the Defensio are some outstanding arguments in favour
of the primacy and authority of the Roman Pontiff, especially with respect to
secular rulers. Like Bellarmine, Suárez argues for an indirect authority of
the Pope over temporal matters, while insisting that secular rulers have no
authority over the Pope in terms of spiritual matters. Not surprisingly, James
was outraged, and ordered an immediate public burning of the volume while
commissioning the theologians at Oxford with the task of defending their king
in a public disputation in which the Defensio would be roundly refuted.117
When James’s additional request that all of Europe’s monarchs should reject
the Defensio was not universally conceded, he did his best to destroy the repu-
tation of Suárez and the entire Society of Jesus throughout Europe, having
particular success in France.118
While these controversies were raging on, Suárez’s tenure as a professor was
nearing its end. Having taught at Coimbra for close to twenty years, Suárez
could finally look forward to the freedom from his professorial duties that
retirement afforded him. This retirement finally arrived in July 1615.119 Fichter
reports that Suárez gave his last lecture to a packed audience hall, and at its
conclusion there was such an outburst of exuberant adulation that the usually
calm and logically-minded theologian, now misty-eyed, found it difficult to
conceal his emotions.120 Suárez’s retirement, however, was hardly unindustri-
ous, for in addition to being sought after continuously as a consulting theolo-
gian, he was preoccupied with the revision of several writings for publication:
De gratia, De religione, De angelis, De opera sex dierum, and De anima, among
others.121 To execute the task of completing his literary endeavours, Suárez
found it necessary to move to Lisbon, where the climate was more accommo-
dating to the fragile Jesuit’s health. Nevertheless, the political atmosphere
there was anything but accommodating, and once again Spain’s most cele-
brated theologian, always desperate for the peace his literary labours required,
was thrown into the midst of political turmoil and controversy. In fact, Suárez
116 Ibid., p. 295.

117 Ibid., p. 300.
118 Ibid., pp. 300–301.
119 Ibid., pp. 204–208.
120 Ibid., p. 326.
121 Ibid., pp. 326–327.
Introduction 23
found himself taking up residence in a city that had been placed under an
interdict.
The reason for this interdict stemmed from a dispute, all too common it
seems, between ecclesiastical and civil jurisdiction, pertaining this time to
property rights. A 1610 Portuguese edict mandated that royal approval be
obtained before any ecclesiastical property could be acquired.122 Paul V, how-
ever, protested this legislation, and insisted upon the immunity of the Church
from any civil interference. After a number of squabbles between the civil
authorities and Attavio Accoramboni, an Italian bishop Paul V had sent to
Portugal as a collector, Accoramboni placed Lisbon under interdict, which
basically amounts to a city-wide excommunication.123 While under an inter-
dict, all church functions and the administration of the sacraments, with the
exception of extreme emergencies, are suspended. Always sought for counsel,
Suárez investigated the situation and came to the conclusion that the interdict
was in agreement with both canon and civil law.124
The hostile political atmosphere was hardly hospitable for a frail and weak-
ening Suárez. By September 1617 much of Suárez’s strength had left him, and
he succumbed to a high fever and dysentery. Weakened from the illness and no
doubt also from the king’s physicians, who had unleashed a regiment of blood-
letting upon him for a week, Suárez was bed-ridden.125 Spain’s greatest theolo-
gian was dying and the world knew it. Even on his deathbed neither Church
nor state would leave the Jesuit in peace, for each wanted to pay its final
respects to the brilliant theologian; the Lord Marquis Da Silva, the king’s
viceroy, the Grand Inquisitor of Portugal, the Archbishop of Lisbon, and
Accoramboni, the papal representative, were only a handful of the crowd that
pressed on to visit Suárez in his precious few remaining hours.126 On
24 September the end was near, and there was no hope of recovery this time.
Suárez spent his final moments dictating farewell letters and received his final
guests, fellow members of the Society, as he prepared himself for death. Finally,
early in the morning of 25 September 1617, Francisco Suárez—arguably one of
the most luminous philosophers and theologians that the Iberian Peninsula
has ever produced—passed into eternity.127 To mark the solemnity of the occa-
sion Accoramboni lifted the interdict for the Jesuit Church in Lisbon so that
122 Ibid., p. 330.

123 Ibid., pp. 330–331.
124 Ibid., p. 331.
125 Ibid., p. 333.
126 Ibid., pp. 334–335.
127 Ibid., p. 338.
proper funeral services, giving full honour to the departed Jesuit, could be
celebrated.128
The mortal remains of Suárez were placed behind the side altar of the
Church of St. Roch in Lisbon, where they remain to this day.129 For over a
century after his death, there was “an intermittent personal cultus practised
in his honor in Spain and Portugal,”130 as well as reports of healings and
apparitions. Nevertheless, the formal process toward the cause of Suárez’s
beatification has never been formally introduced, and the title ‘Venerable’
applied to him is “traditional rather than official.”131 In the twentieth century,
some efforts were made to revive his cause,132 but these have not yet succeeded
in initiating the formal process.
Suárez’s philosophical legacy is, simply put, immeasurable. Certainly, if
René Descartes is to be taken as the father of modern thought, as is often
thought to be the case, then the philosophical formation he received at
La Flèche would play no small role in the shift to modernity, as it was an educa-
tion largely governed by the Ratio Studiorum and the Scholastic philosophy
of Jesuit philosophers such as Pedro da Fonseca, Francisco de Toledo, the
Coimbricenses, and of course, Francisco Suárez. The exact content and sources
of Descartes’s education have long eluded scholars,133 but Descartes himself
gives us some sense of his indebtedness to the Jesuits. In a letter to a French
Jesuit, Jacques Grandamy, Descartes confesses: “It is there [La Flèche] that the
first seeds of everything I have ever learnt were implanted in me, and I am
wholly obliged to your Society for this.”134 When it comes to mentioning names,
however, Descartes admits later in a letter to Marin Mersenne that of the
Jesuits he studied he could only remember the Conimbricenses, and among
those, only Francisco de Toledo and Antoñio Rubio.135 Still, Descartes was not
entirely unfamiliar with Suárez, and when responding to Arnauld’s criticism
128 Ibid.
129 Ibid., 340.
130 Ibid., 339.
131 Ibid.
132 See E. Elorduy, s.j., “Datos para el processo de beatificación del P.F. Suárez,” Archivo teo-
lógico granadino 33(1970): 5–78.
133 Here, a classic text that investigates Descartes’s relationship to Scholastic thought is
Étienne Gilson, Index Scolastico-Cartesien (New York, 1912); idem, La liberté chez Descartes
et la théologie (Paris, 1913). A much more recent study is Roger Ariew, Descartes and the
last Scholastics (Ithaca, ny, 1999).
134 René Descartes, The Philosophical Writings of Descartes: Volume III, The Correspondence
(Cambridge, 1991), p. 236.
135 Ibid., p. 154.
Introduction 25
pertaining to the material falsity of ideas, Descartes adverts approvingly to

Suárez’s sense of ‘material falsity’ to substantiate his own argument.136
In the end, Gilson succinctly sums up Descartes’s philosophical relation to
Scholasticism’s Doctor eximius:
Himself a pupil of the Jesuits, [Descartes] had learned metaphysics

according to Suarez, and, though I would not bet that he had read the
whole Metaphysicae Disputationes, there are positive reasons to feel
sure that he knew the work, and I even believe that, for a time at least, he
personally owned a copy of it. To Descartes, Scholastic philosophy was
Suarez….137
Beyond the various philosophical threads connecting Suárez to Descartes,

one may consider Suárez’s role in ushering in the modern era in its own right.
The second disputation of the Disputationes metaphysicae marks, as Pereira
claims, Suárez’s true standing as a liminal figure in the history of philosophy,
for in treating the relationship between formal and objective concepts, the
Jesuit thinker tells us that while the object of metaphysics is the objective
concept of being (conceptus obiectivus entis), he shall pursue that object by
means of the formal concept.138 Suárez’s reason for doing so, as he tells us, is
that the formal concept, inasmuch as it is produced by us, is more knowable.139
In effect, Suárez makes the ‘subjective’ (i.e., the formal concept) the criterion
and avenue to the ‘objective’ (i.e., the objective concept). The distance between
Suárez’s still-realist metaphysical orientation is, however, not all that far from
the idealist-leaning methodical doubt of René Descartes, for whom the cogito,
a subjective act of consciousness, had been the guarantor of the real, of
objectivity.140
In contrast to Descartes, Leibniz’s acknowledgment of his debt to Suárez, as
well as the great esteem he held for the Jesuit, was very explicit. In fact, Leibniz
136 See Descartes, Meditations on First Philosophy, Fourth Set of Replies in The Philosophical
Writings of Descartes: Volume II, trans. John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, Dugald
Murdoch (Cambridge, 1984), p. 164.
138 Pereira, Suárez, pp. 137–139.
139 dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “In hac ergo disputatione, praecipue intendimus
explicare conceptum objectivum entis ut sic, secundum totam abstractionem suam,
secundum quam diximus esse metaphysicae objectum; quia vero est valde difficilis, mul-
tumque pendens ex conceptione nostra, initium sumimus a conceptu formali, qui, ut
nobis videtur, notior esse potest.” Cf. dm 2.2.24.
tells us that, as a youth, he devoured Suárez as though he were reading a

novel.141 No doubt, the Suárezian claim that entity (entitas) is the ultimate
principle of individuation must have resonated with the future father of mon-
adology. In contrast to the Thomist quantified matter or Scotist haeccietas,
Suárez holds that “every singular substance requires nothing beyond its own
entity or intrinsic principle that constitutes its being for its principle of indi-
viduation.”142 Of course, individuation was only one area among many in
which Suárez would capture Leibniz’s attention, others including the commu-
nication of mind and body,143 cogitabilitas,144 substance and modes,145 and
even matters pertaining to whether or not this is an optimal universe.146
Not surprisingly, Leibniz’s fondness for the Spanish theologian was also
shared by his pupil Christian Wolff, for whom Suárez was a practitioner of
scholasticism par excellence. Whether Wolff’s ontology constitutes in large part
a repetition of Suárezian ‘essentialist’ metaphysics that confuses being with
possibility, as Gilson maintains,147 or an ontology of actuality, as Pereira holds
contrary to Gilson148—a dispute we need not enter here—what cannot be
denied is that Wolff finds in Suárez, if not exactly an infallible exponent of all
truths pertaining to the nature of being, a master whose vocabulary, technical
precision, and exhaustive attention to every salient detail are the benchmark
of any properly conducted ontological exploration. With frequent references
to various scholastic doctrines, Wolff shows himself to be thoroughly familiar
with scholasticism, but when it comes to naming names, Suárez is one of the
few mentioned.149 Furthermore, in one passage where Wolff discusses the
notion of being (notio entis) and argues that essence is what is first known and
ratio for all that are in, can be, or pertain to a being, the German ontologist
approvingly and enthusiastically cites Suárez, who advances a doctrine that, if
not entirely identical, is too similar to be overlooked:
141 Cf. ibid., p. 183.

142 dm 5.6.1 (ed. Vivès, 25, p. 180): “…omnem substantiam singularem, neque alio indigere
individuationis principio praeter suam entitatem, vel praeter principia intrinseca quibus
eius entitas constat.”
143 See Stuart Brown, “The Seventeenth-Century Intellectual Background,” in The Cambridge
Companion to Leibniz, ed., Nicholas Jolley (Cambridge, 1995), p. 63, n. 45.
144 Pereira, Suárez, pp. 259–260.
145 Ibid., pp. 262–265.
146 Ibid., pp. 268–273.
147 See Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers, pp. 113–119.
148 Pereira, Suárez, pp. 121, 273–276.
149 Wolff mentions Suárez four times throughout his Prima philosophia, § 169; ibid., § 502;
ibid., § 527; ibid., § 684.
Introduction 27
Certainly Francisco Suarez of the Society of Jesus, who among the

Scholastics, has meditated more profoundly upon metaphysical things,
as is agreed upon, [holds] in his Disputationes metaphysciae…that the
essence of a thing is said to be what is the first, radically and intimate
principle of actions and properties that agree with the thing.150
To arrive at Wolff was, for Suárez, to reach the crossroads and height of
Enlightenment rationalist philosophy. In fact, touching Wolff would be only
meters away from touching Kant himself. Gilson sardonically wrote that
“Suárez begot Wolff,”151 to which one could very well add that Wolff—at least
through Baumgarten—begot the pre-critical Kant and made clear the target
against which the transcendental idealist would launch his attack in the
Critique of Pure Reason. What Suárez was to Scholastic metaphysics in Wolff’s
eyes, Wolff was to modern ontology for Kant. Citing the ‘famous Wolff’ in more
than one place, Kant praises the German thinker as:
[T]he greatest among all dogmatic philosophers, …[who] gave us the first
example (an example by which he became the author of a spirit of well-
groundedness in Germany that is still not extinguished) of the way in which
the secure course of a science is to be taken, through the regular ascertain-
ment of the principles, the clear determination of concepts, the attempt at
strictness of proof and the prevention of audacious leaps in inference….152
Concerning the relationship between Suárez and modern ontology, Heidegger

makes an observation similar to Gilson’s:
With the peculiar character which the Scholastics gave it, Greek ontology
has, in its essentials, travelled the path that leads through the Disputationes
150 Cf. Wolff, Philosophia prima sive ontologia (Frankfurt and Leipzig, 1736, Georg Olms re-
print), pars I, Section 2, c. 3, § 169: “Notio entis essentiae, quod sit premium, quod de ente
concipitur, & ceterorum, cur insint, vel inesse possint, rationem contineat, est notioni philos-
ophorum conformis. Sane Franciscus Suarez e Societate Jesu, quem inter Scholasticos res
metaphysicas profundius meditatum esse constat, in Disputationibus Metaphysicis Tom.
I. disput. 2, Section 4, §. 5 f. 57. essentiam rei id esse dicit, quod est primum & radicale ac
intimum principium omnium actionem ac proprietatum, quae rei conveniunt” (empha-
ses in original).
152 Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. P Guyer and A. Wood (Cambridge, 1998), B
pp. xxxvi–xxxvii.
metaphysicae of Suarez to the ‘metaphysics’ and transcendental philoso-

phy of modern times, determining even the foundations and the aims of
Hegel’s ‘logic.’153
Suárez’s influence on modern philosophy, not to mention Catholic and

Protestant Scholasticism, is undeniable. Likewise, the Jesuit’s influence beyond
the range of modern philosophy is indisputable, as is his effect upon Romantic
and post-Romantic philosophers, including Arthur Schopenhauer, who con-
sidered the Disputationes metaphysicae “an authentic compendium of the
whole Scholastic tradition,”154 and—to the extent that he was influenced by
Schopenhauer—even Friedrich Nietzsche.155 Beyond the Romantic period,
Postmodernism, as indicated with the reference to Heidegger above, has
contended with Suárez’s metaphysical thought on more than one occasion.156
In short, we might say without any exaggeration that Spain’s greatest theolo-
gian was not merely a national marvel, an irreplaceable asset of the Society
of Jesus, or even a brilliant diadem in the crown of the Church, but one of
history’s greatest thinkers—and to think he was once considered irremediably
dull-witted and unworthy to become a Jesuit, let alone Scholasticism’s Doctor
eximius!
153 Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, trans. John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson
(San Francisco, ca, 1962), pp. 43–44.
154 Quoted in Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 20.
155 On the indirect relation between Suárez and Nietzsche, see Pereira, Suárez, p. 293.
156 See, e.g., Jean-Luc Marion, God Without Being, trans. Thomas Carlson (Chicago, il, 1995),
p. 82; idem, Sur la théologie blanche de Descartes (Paris, 1981), esp. pp. 128–139.
chapter 2
Political Thought and Legal Theory in Suárez

Jean-Paul Coujou
1 Introduction
The political thought of Suárez and his legal theory are principally devel-
oped in two works, De legibus ac Deo legislatore1 (1612) and the Defensio Fidei
Catholicae2 (1613), both of which were drawn up at the command of Philip
III in response to the famous controversy that took place between Pope Paul
V and James I over the conditions and legitimacy of a possible move toward
the autonomy of the royal power in relation to spiritual power. From a doc-
trinal point of view, these two works prove decisive for understanding the
establishment of some fundamental concepts of classical political theory in
seventeenth-century thought (especially within the school of natural law,
and particularly the theories of Grotius, Pufendorf, and Burlamaqui): the
state of nature; natural law and its distinction from the law of nations; the
natural law and the application of these concepts to the problems of the
era, et cetera. These problems correspond to: (1) the institutional crisis of
the Church and the Catholic Reformation,3 ushered in by the Council of
Trent (1545–1563); (2) the search for a European peace dependent on friend-
ship between England and Spain; (3) the distinction between the spiritual
power and the temporal power, linked to the critique of theocracy, namely,
the limitation of royal absolutism in its alliance with ecclesial power, and
the affirmation of an original democracy, along with the question of tyran-
nicide and the right to revolt; (4) the social contract and the beginning of
international law; and (5) the legacy of the Valladolid controversy (1550) on
the status of the Indians of America, set forth by the polemic between
1 Suárez, De legibus ac Deo legislatore (Conimbricae, 1612).

2 Suárez, Defensio Fidei Catholicae (Conimbricae, 1613).
3 The Counter-Reformation in fact only constitutes an episode of the Catholic Reformation,
which cannot be reduced to it. The Catholic Reformation is characterized by an effort of
theological clarification in relation to the controversies of the epoch, namely, the relations of
Scripture with Tradition, the question of original sin and of justification, the presence of
Christ in the Eucharist, and the meaning given to the sacraments.

30 Coujou
Sépulveda4 and Bartolomé de Las Casas,5 which was linked to the question
of the recognition of a universal humanity.
According to the anthropo-theological position defended by Suárez, the
rational creature, man—free, finite, and subject to the passions—must be
understood in relation to some general factors such as society, history, and
the human race. The direction of this undertaking in Suárez, for instance,
aims towards a redefinition of the finality of legislative power as the creation
of free citizens6 (whose freedom, moreover, could not be satisfied by the
simple concession of the freedom recognized as necessary for the peace of
kingdoms), and makes room for a grasp of the real relation that directs the
bonds between individuals: “The legislative power of men is uniquely ordered
to the social, civil, and moral peace of the human community.”7 As a result,
according to Suárez, political power cannot be conceivably justified unless one
has the common good (identified all at once as the right to truth, freedom,
culture, religion, prosperity, and peace) determine the boundaries of political
autonomy; from the ethical and juridical point of view, the justification for the
obligation of civil obedience (which in principle seeks the regulation of the
public order) cannot be conceived apart from the determination of its limits.
On the one hand, Suárez is heir to the overarching view introduced by the
medieval doctrine of the Germanic conception of the State, which is grounded
in the law (Rechtsstaat), and according to which the State does not exist except
by and for the law (thus implying the legality of an order governing the totality
of existence in the realm of both public and private relations). On the other
hand, the theory of ecclesiastical power is opposed to this orientation by the
same fact that it invokes a beginning and an end, exceeding the limits of a
purely legal order. This opposition marks the emergence of a process working
towards the autonomization of the civil power in relation to the law, and leads
to a recognition of the irreducibility of the State’s foundation to the law, thus
4 Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda, Apología de J.G. Sepúlveda contra Fray Bartolomé de Las Casas,
traducción castellana de los textos originales latinos, introducción, notas e indices
(Madrid, 1975).
5 Bartolomé de Las Casas, Très brève relation de la destruction des Indes, Editions Mille et une
nuits, trans. J. de Miggrode (Paris, 1999); Las Casas et la défense des Indiens, presented by
M. Bataillon and André de Saint-Lu (Paris, 1971).
6 Suárez, df, III, 9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 209): “…man is born free by viture of a sole natural right
and he cannot be reduced to slavery,” and ibid., II, 17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 211): “For natural
reason alone does not allow the transfer of power of one man over another by the simple
designation of person without the consent and the actual free will of the one by which the
power should be transferred or attributed.”
7 Suárez, De leg., 3.13.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 223).
Political Thought And Legal Theory In Suárez 31
opening the need for a moral point of reference: one which shows that the
State has the increase of well-being as its primary purpose, and that the law is
only an institutional means for attaining this end.
Nevertheless, such an opposition cannot hide the need for placing the law
as the legal act at the basis of the State, while still affirming the fulfillment of
the law as simultaneously a function of the State; this law, given to man as the
ultimate point of reference before the existence of a historic and earthly power,
cannot be subject to modification by the latter. Hence, the revival of the oppo-
sition between positive law and natural law is precisely intended to respond to
the apparent contradiction that: (1) the law is bound to the State, which fulfills
it for its own ends, and (2) the State is bound to the law, which it also fulfills
with respect to its own specific ends.
Suárez develops further the notion of the natural law, which he inherits
from (1) studies of jurists and canonists who have used the texts of Roman law
and canon law, (2) philosophers who draw from the thought of antiquity, espe-
cially Plato, Aristole, and Cicero,8 and (3) the Fathers of the Church. For scho-
lasticism, the difficulty tied to the recognition of a natural law as having an
origin superior to human legislation consists in determining whether the
essence of that law resides in the will or in reason. The Thomist position—
beyond the differences concerning the origin of the natural law and the justifi-
cation of its obligatory force—had made possible the acceptance of its
existence and emergence from a transcendent principle, implying an origin
superior to human legislation, to which the latter must conform. Anterior to
the foundation of the State, the natural law,9 as an expression of natural incli-
nation,10 implies obligations (do good, avoid evil) from which one can draw
out directly or indirectly the juridical norms by which the State has the possi-
bility of basing its existence on the law. It seems specific to the natural law to
abstract from every earthly power in which it may be embodied—the pope,
the monarch, or the sovereign people—the rules of its law, which in fact estab-
lish limits that cannot be transgressed, bracketed, or amended—whether
through an act of government, custom, or the decision of the people—because
8 Dalloz, Des lois et du Dieu législateur. Livres I–II, a study and translation by J.-P. Coujou,
Avant-propos (Paris, 2003), pp. 83–88.
9 Thomas Aquinas, st II-I, q. 91, a. 2.
10 Ibid., q. 94, a. 2: “It is according to the same order of natural inclinations that the order of
the precepts of the natural law is taken. In fact, man senses from the beginning that he
should search for the good corresponding to his nature, which is similar to all other sub-
stances, in the sense that every substance seeks the conservation of its being, according
to its own nature. According to this inclination, whatever assures human preservation
and all that impedes the contrary belongs to the natural law.”
32 Coujou
these latter can at best only refer to the mutable and imperfect character of
human reason.11 No obligation can be the result of that which contradicts the
immutable principles of the natural law.
The deduction of the natural law—by the reason immanent in God and
immediately determined by the universal order of nature—remains insepara-
ble from a theological-political orientation. But here a difficulty arises: in order
to ascribe to this natural law its obligatory force, which act of the divine will
does it refer to? Because of its absolute obligatory power and its status as an
origin removed from every other law,12 it pertains to the eternal law to respond
to such a difficulty. The natural law is deduced from this eternal law, and it has
its foundation in the participation of man as a rational and free being in
the moral order of the universe, made accessible by the light of natural reason
that God has granted us.13 It is promulgated,14 and it constitutes for all actions
an immutable rule identical to itself. For Suárez, it is a question of establishing
the obligatory force of law, and restoring it in relation to the will and the
intellect—all with the goal of clearly distinguishing the natural law from the
positive law.
Thus, the legislative will, the key to the vault of the political community’s
organization, has a constitutive force on the positive law, whereas reason does
not have a normative status.15 The question of the normative force of the law is
itself tied to the problem of the obligatory force of the agreement—whose ori-
gin is to be found in the natural law—opening the way to the State’s recogni-
tion of the inviolable character (because the very being of man is inseparable
from the right to life) of all the rights granted by agreement. In order to think
of being-in-common in a manner consistent with the nature of man, one must
first facilitate a move beyond the apparent antinomy between power and free-
dom, between the sovereign right of the community and that of the individual,
and between inalienable rights and acquired rights. This means that the indi-
vidual expresses a value not only by his participation in the whole, but also in
himself—the community otherwise needing to consider the mode of being of
the individual not as a mere instrument but as an end in himself, since natural
11 Ibid., q. 97, a. 1.
12 Ibid., q. 93, a. 3: “It follows that all laws, whatever they may be, derive from the eternal law
insofar as they proceed from right reason.” See St. Augustine, Le libre arbitre, [De libero
arbitrio] (op. cit.) I, 15, pp. 422–423.
13 Ibid., q. 94, a. 4: “(…) all which man is inclined toward by nature reveals the natural law;
and it is proper to man to be inclined to act according to reason.”
14 Ibid., q. 90, a. 4, ad 1: “The promulgation of the natural law exists by the fact that God has
introduced it into the mind of men in such a manner that it may be naturally knowable.”
15 Suárez, De leg., 3.20.3, 5, 8, 10, 11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 253–260).
rights must reside beyond the confines of the State, confirming that the sover-
eignty of the individual is at the origin of every political obligation.
2 The Conventional Character and Power of Human Law
Human positive law (with respect to all the considerations relevant to the
theme of the eternal law and the natural temporal law) is unable to be reduced
to the mere expression of the principles of the natural law. Though it receives
its reason for existing by its conformity to the latter,16 it nevertheless assumes
a specific extension because of its historic application.17 Regarding the tempo-
ral law—insofar as it is distinct from the eternal law of God18—Suárez makes
a distinction between the natural and the positive. The natural moral law,
Suárez explains, is itself temporal because it is created conjointly with man, as
something distinct from the eternal law of God, which is specifically the law of
an uncreated being. The positive law, in turn, is subdivided into divine or
canonical law (possessing a supernatural character and belonging to the
sphere of grace) and human law. Book III of De legibus takes as its point of
departure the study of the positive human law, while referring to book IV for an
examination of the divine or canonical temporal law. In fact, just as nature
supposes grace, human law will need to be considered as anterior to the divine
law, according to the order of its generation.19 Thus, if grace accommodates
itself to nature, in order to govern the human community the nature of man as
such requires “communication and equitable relations of inferiors with supe-
riors both reciprocally and between the members themselves, only in the
domain of external acts.”20 In this sense, there should be a reaffirmation of
Thomas Aquinas’s proposition,21 which claims that obedience to human
beings should be reduced to the sphere of bodily behaviour, i.e., corresponding
16 De leg., 3.12.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 216): “(…) the natural law forbids all that is immoral.
Therefore, the civil law cannot derogate from the natural law, and man cannot be obliged
at the same time by laws that oppose it.”
17 Ibid., 3.12.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 219): “The law will be obliged to adjust itself to the human
community according to its natural conditions. For this reason, civil laws do not prohibit
all vices. And the power of constraint of the State does not extend to all vices because that
would exceed the human condition.”
18 Ibid., 3.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 176).
21 Thomas Aquinas, st II-II, q. 104, a. 5.
34 Coujou
to the order of human and sensible subjects. In the same way, one confirms
that the canonical tradition, as Suárez recalls,22 habitually establishes an anal-
ogy between civil law and the body, and between canon law, the body, and the
spirit. The finality of civil law consists in morality and the search for a utility
inscribed in the temporal realm, which corresponds to living together (namely,
the social peace and justice of the State), whereas canon law aims fundamen-
tally at the salvation of the soul and the abstention from sins.23 Thus, civil law
“is going to direct the political government to the city, the protection of tempo-
ral rights, and the maintenance of the State in peace and justice. These bodily
or temporal goods constitute, accordingly, the object of civil laws.”24
For these reasons, and to respond to the need for clarity and the satisfaction
of a methodological imperative of expository convenience, it seems fitting to
have the study of human law as a starting point, even though canon law actu-
ally represents a more eminent subject. This eminence can be rationally
explained in the following manner: as soon as the spiritual good of this life is
identifiable with a disposition intrinsically ordered toward supernatural hap-
piness, the political power, which by itself does not orient men toward such a
happiness, can no longer pretend to direct toward this end; a power’s raison
d’être appears inseparable from the final end that it pursues, and the manner
by which it prepares us to reach it. It thus appears that civil power, not
being directed to the supreme happiness of the future life, cannot lay claim to
exist for the spiritual happiness of the earthly life. One must conclude—and
this has repercussions for the methodological order—that the immediate
finality and subject matter of a power appears proportionally articulated; these
do not possess a sense of reference to the final end of all power that constitutes
the intelligibility and reason of being. And, as a consequence, the categoriza-
tion of human law into civil law and canon law is there to confirm that
“the civil power does not have as its final end the supernatural happiness of
the future life, nor that of the present life.”25 In conformity to these distinc-
tions, in order to produce the specificity and intelligibility of the positive
human law, it is primarily required, from a methodological point of view, to
determine its origin, its form, and its content, as well as the limits and condi-
tions of its promulgation. Secondly, one must explain the nature, necessity, the
formal requirements, and the type of obligation that it is bound to include
among these subjects.
22 Suárez, De leg., 3.11.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 213).

24 Des lois (op. cit.), I, 3, n. 21, p. 129.
25 De leg., 3.11.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 213).
When one considers the notion of the positive law, it comes by means
of a process of abstraction, implicated in its distance from the divine law
and the human law. Positive human law is divisible into the law of the people
(‘iuris communis’) and the law that consists of an element of a proper law (‘iuris
proprii’), which concerns a specified community.26 The critical examination of
the law of nations having been accomplished, it is fitting to analyze human law
in its particularity, which corresponds appropriately to the human positive
law, and manifests the specific law of a community or State. The division of
human law into civil and canonical should not lead one to forget that the latter,
if it can claim to be universally common with the same recognition as the
Church, nevertheless corresponds, historically and socially, to the Church of
Christ; however, it could still be shared by the assembly of peoples, who are not
all part of the Church.27 Accordingly, it becomes possible and legitimate to
distinguish two conditions in the civil law: one that is characterized by its sim-
plicity, such that it has existed among the pagans and is found among the infi-
dels, and the other in harmony with the faith, and manifested in the practice
among the faithful of the Church.
The deepened study of canon law will allow Suárez to specify the action of
religion in the constitution of a community. Religion, he maintains, is effective
in unifying the conscience of citizens. In that way it likewise seems that the
relations of the governors to the governed—who, in the logic of obedience,
constitute the rule of every political community—only become effective on
the basis of a common religion. This latter point, as the principle of unification
and affirmation of the people, could only lead to identifying a pure political
invention intended to preserve the prince or the republic from corruption, as
in the view of Machiavelli.28 For Suárez, the Catholic faith, by the same stan-
dard as justice, represents a legitimate foundation of communitarian unifica-
tion. In this sense, because it refers to the supernatural order just as the concept
of the mystical body is applied to the political body to indicate the unity of all
the community’s members, the critical examination of canon law should con-
firm the presence of a unity only valid in the spiritual realm. In the same way,

28 Machiavelli, Discours sur la première décade de Tite Live in Œuvres (Paris, 1952), I, XII,
pp. 414–417. See p. 415: “In this way, therefore, it is the duty of princes and heads of a
republic to maintain in its foundations the religion that is professed; for there is nothing
easier for keeping his people religious, and, as a consequence, good and one. Also all that
tends to favor religion should be welcome, although one would recognize the falsity; and
one is bound to this the more one has wisdom and knowledge of human nature.”
36 Coujou
the republic will be described as a mystical body, because, as a political body, it

should express a unity equivalent to the perfection of its being.
The comprehension of the process of communitarian unification requires,
in effect, the comparative study of the subject of civil law and of canonical law,
which allows at once canonists and jurists to draw out one central difference:
“the subject matter of civil laws is temporal, that of canonical law is spiritual.”29
This, moreover, implies that a spiritual power should correspond to spiritual
matters and a civil power to temporal matters. It seems fitting then to conclude
that when one considers the origin and particularity of power established by
the civil law, they appear to be of the natural order. Obviously, that does not
mean that they would flow immediately from nature, but they are issues of a
power connatural to man. As far as canonical law is concerned, it is attributed
to men by the intermediary of a supernatural power; the justification and the
understanding of this law are to be found in the nature of the power from
which it emanates.30 It is clearly evident from this differentiation that the
power possesses a double function: to direct human beings toward a natural or
a supernatural end.31 For the first, the political power proves sufficient, while
for the second, the end exceeds human capacity, given that only God is actually
able to direct man toward a supernatural end. In this sense, so long as it is not
in contradiction with faith and religion, civil obedience among Christians
remains essential, even if the requirement has its foundation in the natural
law.32
When one considers the civil law and the temporality in which it is inscribed,
it is appropriate to consider the nature of human beings and their legislative
power. One must determine the possibility that there exists in men a faculty
for promulgating laws that oblige other men who are originally their equal
and who possess an equivalent freedom.33 It is a matter of precisely explaining
and justifying the reason why even when “man has been created free, he is still
not without the capacity and disposition to be subject to another man for
a just and reasonable cause.”34 For at the origin of this problem, there is the
29 Suárez, De leg., 4.11.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 370–371).

30 Ibid., 4.prol. (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 326).
31 Ibid., 4.1.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 326–327).
32 df 6.6.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 688).
33 De leg., 3.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 176): “The question is the following: whether, by speaking
only of the nature of things, men can rule other men and oblige them through their own
laws.”
34 df 3.1.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 205–206): “In the same way, once the State is formed, the
submission of individuals to the sovereign ruler or public power is natural insofar as it
declaration that man is naturally free, and in fact only subject to his Creator.
Consequently, “the sovereignty (principatus) of one man over another runs
counter to the order of nature and implies tyranny.”35 Moreover, this point is
confirmed for Suárez by reference to the Fathers of the Church, who proposed
that man had been created naturally free, and only received directly from God
the power to exert his mastery over irrational creatures; this leads to the con-
clusion that the right of certain men to subjugate other men has its origin in
sin,36 or in the conflict between men. For example, according to the analysis of
St. Augustine, “in the natural order in which God first created man, no one is a
slave of man or of sin.”37
Now if, on the one hand, the human community is immediately ruled by
God by means of the natural law, on the other hand, it does not remain less free
according to the right which is its own. It is enough, nevertheless, to under-
stand that possessing such a freedom is not incompatible with an autonomous
power for the community to govern itself and to exercise an authority over its
members, all by having permanently in mind that one must exclude the subju-
gation of the community to another man, since that is not conceivable except
by the standard of the principles of the natural law. For “God does not immedi-
ately grant to any man such a power until, through the intermediary of human
institution or election, it is transferred to another.”38
Man is born free by virtue of the sole natural right qualified to grant it, and
not simply by a precept.39 This juridical specification proves to be a determin-
ing factor, for the prescription of the natural law does not mean that all man-
kind remains permanently free; it amounts to saying that there is no prohibition
conforms to natural right reason and is necessary for the appropriate conservation of
human nature.”
36 Saint Augustine, La cité de Dieu, trans. L. Moreau, revised by J.-C. Eslin, Editions du Seuil,
3 volumes (Paris, 1994), vol. 3, Livre XIX, 15, p. 126: “The primary cause of slavery is there-
fore the sin which makes man hold man in bondage and his whole destiny.” Saint
Augustine, cited in the Deuxième Épître de Pierre, 2, 19: “Man, is fact, is a slave of the one
who has conquered him.”
37 Saint Augustine, La cité de Dieu (op. cit.), volume 3, Livre XIX, 15, p. 126.
38 Suárez, df 3.2.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 209). Suárez invokes St. Augustine, for whom it is “a
general law among all men that each people must obey its king” (les Confessions, trans.
Arnauld d’Andilly, ed. O. Barenne [Paris, 1993], III, 8, p. 105); the foundation of the author-
ity of kings resides in an agreement of human society, which reaffirms precisely that it
does not spring forth immediately from a divine institution, since every human contract
is not actualized except by the will of men.
39 df 3.1.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 209).
38 Coujou
for a man to be brought under subjugation (without which the transfer of

power would become inconceivable). One must understand that in the logic of
political alienation, such a renunciation cannot be accomplished without the
consent of the man or without a legitimate reason invoked by a just power.40
In this sense, the complete political community (which is therefore self-
sufficient according to the Aristotelian conception) is actually said to be free
according to the natural law, without being subjugated to an individual or legal
demand external to it; it possesses the source of that democratic political
power immanently within it as a whole,41 so long as it does not set up a transfer
of power. However, as has been previously analyzed, this same community
can, through its own will, renounce its power or right to another power or
right, and that for the benefit of a determined person or assembly it is able to
lay claim to the legitimate exercise of power.42 It thus becomes possible to
understand the ends and limits of political power for Suárez, all the while
granting that the political authority—implying a temporal power of governing
men—possesses a just foundation appropriate to human nature.43
The civil obedience owed to sovereigns by the mediation of the civil law,
even if it has its own foundation in the natural law, can be said to be in force
according to the law of nations, given that in actuality it is not derived directly
from the natural law, for it is necessary to suppose from the start “the union of
men in a political body and in an autonomous community.”44 Consequently,
the proposition that this comes from the natural law presupposes the exis-
tence of a contract among human beings. From this, one understands why the
obligation of civil obedience—as much in its form as in its content—is
not identical for each group of men subject to a government. The degree of

42 Ibid., 3.2.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 209), where one reads: “In the final analysis it follows from
this thesis that no king or monarch receives (according to ordinary law) political power
directly from God but through the mediation of human will and institution.” This thesis
does not have Bellarmine as its author, as Suárez justly relates; it is already present in:
Cajetan, De auctoritate Papae et Concilii, tract. 2, c. 10, ad 5, confirm. 2; Alphonsus de
Castro, De lege poenali, (Parisiis, 1578) I, c. 1 fol. 487–488; Jean Neys (Driedo A Turnhout),
De libertate christiana (Lovanii, 1540), I, c. 2, pars 3, p. 98; Vitoria, Leçon sur le pouvoir poli-
tique (op. cit.), n. 8, pp. 49–53; Soto, De iustitia et iure, Salamanca, intro. V. Carro and
Spanish trans. M. González Ordóňez (Madrid, reprint 1967–1968), 5 volumes, volume II,
Lib. IV, art. 1, pp. 300–303; and Luis de Molina, De iustitia (Maguntia, 1602) vol. I, tract. II,
disp. 21, p. 109.
44 df 6.6.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 689).
obligation proper to the civil law exists in each nation in relation to the historic
and conventional institution of the realm, and in relation to the contract estab-
lished between the governed and the governing in each. Written laws (and it
is precisely this that constitutes their force), or previously customs, may
introduce a constancy of rules in the face of the historical development, which
provides a cure for the fallibility of human memory.
In a manner analogous to Vitoria, Suárez determines the function of the law:
to guarantee the freedom of all in such a way that the transfer of power does
not allow for the quantitative productions of force or a situation of anarchy.
The civil law should be the expression of the republic, and in obeying it,
citizens should conform themselves to the principles of the natural law, and
consequently, obey the one who moves in the direction towards the fulfillment
of their human nature. The subject of the law, because he is aware of his
finitude and his condition as sinner, freely accepts the need for the universal
formula given by the natural law. The following, however, is no less true:
This obedience does not require obedience to the king who orders things
illicit or contrary to the salvation of the soul. And the perversity of the
king could be so greatly opposed to the community’s common good
or the contracts and agreements established by the kingdom that the
community of people, by means of a common decision, could annul
the contracts and agreements established by the kingdom as well as the
obedience and civil fidelity owed to them.45
Thus, in these circumstances, the political community has the legitimate

power to dismiss the king, and the representatives of the community act legiti-
mately in constraining the sovereign or justly executing him, because their
action is accomplished in terms of a public, rather than private authority.46
Consequently, obedience to the civil law cannot be unconditional. If a legiti-
mate king rules in a tyrannical manner and the community has no other way
to ensure its own conservation than by removing the king, this final recourse is
legitimate.47 And precisely at this moment the political community acts as a
45 df 6.6.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 689): “…It likewise follows that the bond of such fidelity and
obedience does not oblige in certain instances and it can even be annulled in certain cir-
cumstances with the conditions explicitly established in the original agreement between
the king and the kingdom or intrinsically implied by him as a result of the requirement of
the natural law itself.”
40 Coujou
whole through public decision, manifesting an agreement of the entire body

precisely by affirming itself afresh as a moral and collective entity.
Two arguments confirm the political-moral foundation of disobedience to
civil laws: (1) according to natural law, it is legitimate to repel violence with
violence; (2) while even one such response appears indispensable to the pres-
ervation of the State, it does not seem less repudiated by the clauses of the
original contract by which the community has transferred its power to the sov-
ereign. By using this point to reinterpret the thesis defended by Thomas
Aquinas,48 it is judicious for Suárez to say (in order to resolve this apparent
difficulty so there will not be sedition when one opposes a king who rules
tyrannically) that certainly such a resistance is the product of the legitimate
power of the community, which aims to decrease greater evil for the people.
Suárez likewise confirms Mariana’s thesis, according to which it is licit to kill a
tyrant comparable to “a ferocious and cruel beast”49 as an exercise of the right
to defend one’s own life, as otherwise invoked in the course of war. The exam-
ple of tyrannicide only confirms a general principle, according to which a
positive law that contradicts a precept of the natural law cannot pretend to
stand as a law, which comes back to stating that the natural law constitutes the
foundation of the validity of positive laws.
The ordinance of the human law, just as it confirms its temporal dimension
and the legitimization of certain conditions of sedition, also has as its regulat-
ing norm the intrinsic rectitude of acts expressed by the natural law,50 all hav-
ing as a constitutive principle the common good,51 as well as the best guarantee
for the realization of particular goods. However, the exact determination
of the principles and general norms of the moral life for men living in political
48 Thomas Aquinas, Opuscula theologica et philosophica tam certa quam dubia, Opusculum
XVI, lib. I, cap. 6 (éditions Vivès, vol. 27, pp. 343–344): “Videtur autem magis contra
tyrannorum saevitam non privata praesumptione aliquorum, sed auctoritate piublica
procedendum. Primo quidem si ad ius multitudinis alicuius pertineat sibi providere de
rege, non iniuste ab eadem rex institutus potest destrui vel refrenari eius potestas, si
potestate regia tyrannice abutatur…Si vero ad ius alicuius superioris pertineat multitu-
dini providere de rege, expectandum est ab eo remedium contra tyranni nequitam….
Quod si omnio contra tyrannum auxilium humanum haberi non potest, recurrendum est
ad regem omnium, Deum, qui est adiutor in opportunitatibus, in tribulatione.”
49 Juan de Mariana, Del rey y de la instituciόn real (1599; Madrid: El libro para todos, 1961),
vol. I, Libro I, cap. VI, p. 109.
50 See Thomas Aquinas, In IV Ethicorum, ed. Marietti (Turin, 1949), I, 12, n. 1023: “Omnia iusta
positiva vel legalia ex iusto naturali oriuntur,” and st I, q. 95, a. 2.
51 Suárez, De leg., 3.12.19 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 221): “Human laws can establish the just milieu
for what concerns human acts.”
society and searching for concrete rules of conduct necessarily requires

recourse to the positive law. Thus, positive laws imply an indirect line with the
norms deduced from the precepts of the natural law, and this line manifests
the introduction of complementary determinations that, in the same way,
reveal the circumstances that turn out to be contingent. One verifies histori-
cally in this sense that if positive laws are an application of the natural law to
concrete and changeable situations, they are likewise subject to a possible
perversion.
Human law represents, in the final analysis, the unique way by which inter-
individual relations52 can be regulated in a temporal manner, by obliging or
eventually constraining individuals determined to pursue their particular
interest, and pointing them instead toward the common good.53 The study of
the reason for the law’s existence is directed, by this fact, to determine the
inherent characteristics of all civil law. If the function of the sovereign consists
in being of service to the common good by respecting justice, one can deduce
three specific conditions for every civil law: (1) every law should respond to the
imperative of supporting the common good or the public utility; (2) these laws
oblige all the members of the political community, hence they have a universal
objective and in a fundamental way they assert themselves equally with respect
to all; (3) they necessarily imply the eventual use of a constraining force to be
effective. The affirmation of the necessity of the civil law is inseparable from
the affirmation of the necessity of a political power, without which any repub-
lic is inconceivable. And in the absence of the law, the exercise of power with
authority and justice would be impossible, and for the same reason the regula-
tion of power for the common good would be inconceivable. In the final analy-
sis, when one considers the law and the government, they must be defined as
instruments in the service of the republic, and hence of the common good,
which leads precisely to conceiving the sovereign as a public person.
In the same way, the civil law must be conceived from the point of view of
its utility for the moral life of man, where it refers the latter to his engagement
in the path toward his final destination, namely, happiness. Nevertheless,
in terms of the condition for the possibility of the community’s preservation,
the positive law enables one to specify the sociopolitical contents: justice
and peace. Thus, as the exercise of political power shows, “it is not possible
to maintain justice and peace without a government having the power of
52 Ibid., 3.11.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 213), see, for example, the reference of Suárez to Thomas
Aquinas, st II-I, q. 99, a. 3.
53 Ibid., 3.11.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 213): “The finality of the State corresponds to a true political
happiness.”
42 Coujou
commanding and punishing.”54 The power to declare the law and the right
stripped of all actual power of constraint is a pure illusion, as Suárez reminds
us.55 Conformity to the common good consequently constitutes the founda-
tion for the legitimate exercise of all civil law.56 The legislator, through the
intermediary of the civil law, puts in action his moral influence on the human
community in the design of governing it.
In order to apprehend the process of proceeding, it is fitting to refer to the
four causes that allow for the law’s intelligibility:57 (1) the efficient cause of the
law refers to the person possessing the power of jurisdiction. If the republic is
itself its own cause, the people, by obeying civil laws, are obeying the republic,
and theologically are also obeying God, who is the author of the power
expressed in the latter; (2) the material cause, called the subjective, resides
in the intellect or the will, since the material cause called the objective refers
to the just object aimed at by the law; (3) the formal cause denotes the method
for the authorization and promulgation of the law; (4) the final cause is, as
such, identified with the search for the common good. In the same way, one
could say that Suárez applies the four Aristotlelian causes to the determination
of the human law, which is what Vitoria58 has attributed to his conception of
political power. The common good of the State is thus identified as the final
cause of the civil law. By the means of legal justice, the civil law attributes to
the communal good a meta-individual value, which, by its universality, tran-
scends the simple addition of particular goods. It consequently confers a polit-
ical actuality to the moral power it expresses. Politics, in terms of legislative
practice in history, cannot pursue something other than the humanity of the
human person, realized in the Suarézian view as reason and freedom. In terms
of natural law ethics, it shows man what he should or should not do in order to
be truly human, that is to say, worthy of the use that he makes of his reason and
freedom. According to these premises, the human law has the duty, through
54 df 3.1.4; ibid., 6.4.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 676): “First of all, …vengeance and punishment of
wrongdoings are ordered to the common good of society and, in the same way, have been
uniquely entrusted to the one to whom the political power of governing the community
has been confided. Secondly, to chastise is an act of a superior having jurisdiction; there-
fore, if a private person does it, this constitutes an act of jurisdictional usurpation. Thirdly
and finally if it were otherwise, it would give way to unending troubles and disorders in
the State, and the way to civil discords and assassinations would be open.”
56 Suárez, Des lois, I, 7, n. 4, p. 188.
57 Des lois, I, 13, n. 1, p. 271.
58 Vitoria, Leçon sur le pouvoir politique, intro. and trans. M. Barbier, part 1 (Paris, 1980), n. 2,
pp. 37–40.
the mediation of legal justice, of establishing the appropriate realization of

morality and politics according to their finality. One understands in the same
way that the duty of the natural law likewise consists in establishing that the
ends of the political order could not be external to morality without threaten-
ing the historical realization of the unity of the human race.
In this sense, it belongs to human law to allow men to live politically in
peace and justice, which are the conditions for the “adequate preservation of
human nature.”59 The political exigency remains, therefore, inseparable from
the sphere of obligation: to render actual in each individual the realization of
his moral dimension of existence.60 Human law thus expresses the moral final-
ity of the political order in the sense that, as the instrument of civil power, it
obliges in conscience, calling to mind in this way that this power derives its
ultimate origin from God. It seems clear that the effects of the law nevertheless
exceed the limits of human power, and reaffirm implicitly its divine source.
This does not, however, lead to the conclusion that the capacity to establish
laws would be in itself spiritual and supernatural, and one must insist on the
following nuance: if the divine character of its origin implies that it could not
have human beings as its cause, it nevertheless expresses a connection in keep-
ing with the natural order among men, and could in this sense be qualified as
natural and human.
In the end, the agreement evoked between morality and the political order
finds its limit in the constitutive separation of all social life: the sphere of the
private and that of the public. Another distinction can be added to the equa-
tion. Whereas the immanent end of the natural law has the goal of producing
morally good human beings, the proper end of the civil law is directed toward
the common good.61 The necessary interdependence of the two domains, how-
ever, does not infer their identification. In no case, Suárez explains, can the
power of the State in its action cover over the entirety of the moral sphere,
which requires its specific prohibitions and obligations.62 It is clearly evident
that the civil law is not in a position to form the basis of the morality of an act.
Instead, it imposes the obligation by which the moral rectitude of a virtue will

60 See, on this matter, the critique that Suárez directs to the political philosophy of
Machiavelli concerning the move toward the autonomy of politcs with regard to morality,
De leg., 3.12.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 215).
61 The existence of compulsion is realized in the civil law, whereas it is not in the natural law.
62 De leg., 3.12.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 219): “(…) the civil law seeks to make men morally good
but not absolutely good according to the understanding of morality. For this to take place,
it would be necessary that they be free of all vices, and the civil law cannot pretend to
have an efficatious means for this, even if it considered it.”
44 Coujou
be respected, and it is in this sense that it establishes a just environment with

respect to virtue.63 The natural law, in turn, serves to draw the civil law’s atten-
tion towards the metapolitical dimension of politics that the legislative system
must incarnate, under pain of giving up the human fulfillment of man in the
social sphere. The human efficacy of politics appears where no one expects it:
in the moral exigency. The State, by acting in such a way that it renders tempo-
rally possible the existence of morality in the world, establishes human rela-
tions in the duration.
In order to do this, the existence of the law supposes that the legislator
orders and imposes in an efficacious manner what has been recognized in pro-
portion to its practical reason and what has been accepted by its upright will.
One thus contributes to the genesis of the law as a morally efficacious way to
guide the members of the political community to the end sought by the legisla-
tor, namely, the common good. The human validity of the law as a way of
government clearly shows it to be an instrument of power, with a view to the
specific fulfillment of the order of the community. The disposition to reason
that extends the genesis of the law supposes three moments: (1) the judgment
of what is right, which requires an act of understanding that brings to light
what is rational and establishes the conformity of an act with the principal
source of reason; (2) the choice of that which reason has offered as compatible
with rectitude, implying an engagement of the will to accomplish the act
chosen as right; (3) the understanding that imposes what is right, and this act
of commandment constitutes precisely the law.
It follows from this that government—beyond its own political obligation,
since it behooves it to make possible the common good through the mediation
of the civil law—must respond to the moral obligation to conform itself to the
natural function of political power.64 But the moral duty of the members of the
political community to obey laws corresponds to the political duty of the legis-
lative authority. One such obligation is to understand the extent to which the
contribution of citizens supports the social realization of the public good.
In the final analysis, whether one considers the duty of the governor or that of
the governed, it seems inseparable from the imperative of the common good.
The obligation constitutes the specificity of the law, for if citizens are not
obliged to obey laws, the power of governing would lose all efficacy. It expresses
63 Ibid., 3.11.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 213): “(…) the civil law considers the morality and temporal
utility of the human community.”
64 df 3.9.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 249): “(…) the power of human government does not
transcend the human order, and it is principally instituted in order to direct relations
among men.”
in this sense a double dimension, reflexive and bilateral: (1) by the bond that
applies to the governing, and (2) by the bond that applies to those governed.
From the theological and political perspective, it follows that from the moment
when the political power is subordinated to the divine power and remains in
its service, the human law implies the obligation in conscience of the mem-
bers of the political community. Thus, the obligation of the civil law finds its
origin in the affirmation of a double authority: (1) the obligation flows from the
divine will, source of the eternal law and principle of the natural law as a first
cause, inducing obedience to human laws within the limits previously estab-
lished; (2) the obligation of the political will proceeds from it as its second
cause, as it directs a particular act or behaviour in the temporal order.
Consequently, the force and the power of obligation constitutive of the bond
of the whole community exist in the civil law because of the coincidence of
two causes: the universal will of the eternal law and the particular will of the
sovereign. The theory of legislative obligation taken from these analyses serves
precisely to allow for the political community of men associated organically in
a State, by means of a natural right, to possess “a supreme temporal jurisdic-
tion over itself.”65
3 Ethical-Political Genesis of the State
The civil law, which is at the heart of the articulation between morality and
politics, reveals, as a consequence, that the human development of man is nec-
essarily within a community. It thus insures the passage from the moral theory
of the natural law to social theory. It nevertheless becomes necessary from this
to make sense of the existence of social groups and the historical form that
promote unification: the State as the condition of the unification of action, in
spite of the diversity of human relations. This latter is to be understood
in Suárez not in a strictly formal and juridical sense; instead, it denotes the
perfect community, organized politically and ordered toward an assembly of
powers conferred by the civil law in order to accomplish the communitarian
end that corresponds to the common political good.
St. Paul’s formula of the ‘mystical body’, when it is applied to the political
community, allows for an understanding of the specificity of the process
of unification toward which the State should tend. The establishment of an
analogy with the human body proves illuminating.66 On the one hand, the

66 df 3.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 204).
46 Coujou
notion of a ‘body’ expresses a unity that corresponds to that of the members of

a community, analogous to the organic unity of the human body, the latter of
which constitutes an incontestable point of reference by reason of its interior
harmony. It is possible to envisage a clear similarity between the government
of the temporal republic and the human body. One must nevertheless guard
against confusions that could emerge by limiting oneself to such an analogy,
which is precisely why we maintain the notion of a ‘mystical body’. The body,
by the physiological processes that structure it, assures the conservation of
each of its parts; the preservation of each part remains subservient to the pres-
ervation of the whole. Now in the political body, one such principle can be
denied: that which tries to say that each part has no center of interest other
than itself, and that which claims, for example, that a good for the part cannot
constitute an evil for the whole, and vice versa.
The Aristotelian heritage of the theory of distributive justice allows a
concrete matter to be brought to bear, as well as the beginning of a solution.
The idea of distribution67 receives an extension beyond the economic sphere,
since society as a totality, and considered from the point of view of justice,
implies a division of functions, rights, and duties. In thinking of society as a
global system of distribution, Suárez is equally concerned with avoiding the
thesis that identifies society as a distinct entity of individuals who make it up,
and avoids as well an individualistic conception wherein society is merely
the summation of individuals and their interactions. The thesis of distributive
justice allows for the renewed use of the metaphor of the body by insisting on
the fact that society does not exist in the absence of individuals, among whom
there is a distribution and who also partake in the whole. And justice, likewise,
entails that individuals could not affirm their social existence without the rule
of distribution that assigns their place in the whole. It is precisely there that
justice, by means of institutions, directs the whole of the shared operations. In
this way Suárez68 reminds us that the general formula of justice—to render
each one his due (jus suum unicuique tribuens)—is in this sense at the heart of
the moral comprehension of the body politic.
The metaphor of the body, which in itself also harmonizes with the devel-
opment of a living person, expresses the following demand: the improvement
of the human faculties that require in the specific case an authority and direc-
tion. According to the logic of the bond uniting the part and the whole, it
seems that domestic society, naturally first, is not sufficient in this. The family,
with respect to the political society, constitutes an imperfect society because it
67 Disputatio de justitia, in Opuscula theologica, s. 1, n. 12 (ed. Vivès, vol.11, pp. 518–519).

68 Ibid., s. 1, n. 9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 11, p. 518).
does not permit progressive achievement of human possibilities such as the

arts, the economy, the sciences, law, etc., and in the same way, does not lead to
the realization of its moral destination. The multiplicity and juxtaposition of
families could only be the occasion of an accidental aggregate.69 In order for a
community to claim the status of a political society, there must be a balancing
of the human multiplicity toward the moral union, which presupposes a free
agreement, express or tacit, implying cooperation and reciprocal assistance, as
well as subordination to the sovereign authority of the community.70 The per-
fect society or civil community, according to the Aristotelian thesis, constitutes
the end of domestic society, and the specificity of the perfect community con-
sists precisely in the implication of a public power, an authority. Two constitu-
tive dimensions of the latter should thence be drawn out: (1) the dimension of
a social community in which all men participate by the fact of possessing a
rational nature and by aspiring toward the same common good; and (2) the
dimension of political community formed by a moral congregation, the State,
instituted by human law completely in accord with rational nature. One thus
has to deal with a regrouping of men who, unified by conventions, orient them-
selves toward a common end under the direction of an authority, implying
a moral bond by which individuals do not live among themselves as private
persons but as elements of a whole state community.
As a result, there is a clear distinction: the human regroupings are not iden-
tifiable with herds but with societies; they are not purely and simply engen-
dered by nature, but imply a conformity to nature, accompanied by the will.
Without the social naturality, no grouping would come to be; the will cannot
pretend to produce independently from a given fact that existed before it. And
in the absence of the will, only the communal instinct could prevail without
the emergence of the possibility of a complete sociability. If one understands
human liberty as the power to choose, political association will be interpreted
in its human dimension, namely, as free, but not unless the decision intervenes
in a direct manner. Nevertheless, as the introduction of every convention
reveals, the actual intervention of freedom by the intermediary of a decision
presupposes a direct link with nature.
In this perspective, for the emergence of political power to be intelligible,
it must be placed again into the intricacy of necessity and the will, the mark
of the political dimension of the human. As a consequence, the political
69 De leg., 3.1.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 176–177).

70 De opere sex dierum 5.7.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 414) and De leg., 3.35.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 316):
“The reason resides in the fact that the community is situated above any person who
belongs to it.”
48 Coujou
association “has not been actualized without a particular agreement, either

express or tacit.”71 For there to be a society, it is necessary to make reference to
the will being given, for without agreement, this same society remains incon-
ceivable. The ontological status of man as being created or being shared is
endowed by reason of his nature with specific potentialities constituting the
matrix of the political existence, which should allow him to fulfill his highest
office: that of being a free participant in the genesis of every social organiza-
tion and of its most exalted historical form, namely, the State. The political
understanding of this participatory freedom, as it confirms the natural condi-
tion of men (implying a harmonious cooperation between the first cause, the
Creator, and secondary causes), can be made manifest historically in an express
or tacit manner.
Civil community, consequently, cannot result from the natural evolution of
the familial community any more than a natural descent could claim to reach
the status of a nation, since the existence of the latter presupposes freedom as
a condition. Historically, a free decision implies an agreement constituting the
efficient and proximate cause of the civil society. It is manifest that, for Suárez,
such consent rests in the social nature of man, who has the Creator as his final
foundation.72 The political society, having nature as its origin and completed
by the mediation of the agreement of wills, requires the preservation of this
agreement by a unifying force, a civil authority, which directs the activity of the
members of the whole toward a common end. The unity of the State in itself is
subservient to the subjection of the members to this authority, which expresses
the principle intrinsically.73
The critical examination of the natural condition of men likewise confirms
that the civil power is not the result of sin, but of something fundamentally in
conformity with nature, for it must be said that it existed in the state of inno-
cence itself, under the form of a directive and not coercive authority.74 The
realized political authority is equivalent to a moral human unification, leading
to the existence of a single sovereign, one law, and a single finality identical for
all. The self-sufficiency of the political society implies a juridical autonomy as
a specific and supreme authority. Consequently, civil society defines itself by
the aptitude to receive laws and to be politically governed,75 which implies the
71 De opere sex dierum 5.7.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 414): “(…) aliqua unione politica, quae non fit
sine aliquo pacto expresso, vel tacito juvandi se invicem.”
74 De opere sex dierum, 5.7.6–8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, pp. 414–415).
75 Des lois, I, 6, n. 20, pp. 180–181 and De leg., 3.9.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 203): “Le pouvoir légis-
latif réside dans la totalité du corps politique, de telle sorte que ni la communauté sans le
existence of a supreme power or sovereign who cannot be limited by particular

interests, nor hindered in the realization of its functions. For this condition,
it will be legitimate to speak of the State, and one will be able to assimilate
the civil society to a morally united multitude, taking the name of a mystical
body.76
As Suárez recalls, St. Jerome and St. Cyprian, from the starting point of the
image of the body, notably suppose that, on the one hand, not only “is the
prince necessary in the republic but likewise there should only exist one.”77
On the other hand, the term ‘mystical’, by introducing a difference from the
physical body, indicates the existence of a spiritual order that transcends the
reference to such materiality. In the same way, a distinction between the moral
and juridical person and the physical person becomes legitimate:78 “When we
speak of a unique political sovereign, we understand a tribunal or a power
either in one single natural person or in a council or congregation of many as
in a fictive person [una persona ficta].”79 The supposed person, equivalent to
what one would call the moral person, indicates for Suárez that one cannot
make reference to a physical person (persona vera), but it is a matter precisely
of coming to a double opposition: that of the individual person with the collec-
tive person, and that of the physical person with the moral person. There fol-
lows in the Suárezian perspective an identification between the fictive and
mystical character of the person. The attribute of person applies both to the
individual sphere and the collective. It is fitting for this theory of the moral
person, through the expression of the unity of the corpus politicum mysticum,
to reflect on the ontological source of political society and to insist on the
reciprocal implication of unity and being.
To propose that the republic constitutes a mystical body comes back to the
recognition that it is analogous—within the limits formulated earlier—to an
organism whose unity is not conceivable without diversity. It is fitting to pro-
mote in the same way the moral reality of the social unity by distinguishing it
carefully from a mechanical aggregation or a physical unity. The identification
of the republic with a mystical body confirms its status of unity, and conse-
quently leads to investigating the specific being of the political community. The
condition of the whole being-in-common resides in the fact of it constituting a
gouvernant, ni le gouvernant sans la communauté, n’aient de compétence pour établir

les lois.”
77 df 3.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 204).
50 Coujou
unity; the latter, as the ontological principle, is capable of being put into prac-
tice, for it allows the bases of the organization of the republic to be established.
The unity is, in fact, deducible, not only from the necessity of the community
and the functioning of its power, but also from its end, identifiable with its
conservation.80 For the unity of the republic that constitutes its perfection
is precisely a good in the sense that it is this unity that must be desired by
the reality of its perfection, namely, coexistence and peace through justice
among men.
From the distinction between the physical person and the moral person, it
is no less necessary to carry out a differentiation between real unity and fictive
unity. Thus, concerning simple beings, their unity is identifiable with simplic-
ity. If one considers the unity of the republic as a moral person, it presupposes
the composition of parts (individuals, representatives, institutions, etc.) that
are irreducible to their pure integration in the totality. With regard to the indi-
vidual, he has a mode of being distinct from the republic; his being is insepa-
rable from the being-in-common proper to the State without being merged
with it. Thus, as Suárez reminds us in several places: “Man by nature tends
toward political community and requires the latter for adequate conservation
of his life as Aristotle justly taught.”81 In the final analysis, the constitution of a
being-in-common is not, as in the exhibition of such a tendency, the product
of a mere calculation of interests or a transcendent process making abstrac-
tion from secondary causes; rather, it expresses a temporal human work,
originally circumscribed by the order of nature and inducing a permanent
effort. The ontological implication of the recognition of human aptitudes
consists precisely in joining together divine and human action. To define the
individual as a social animal has the consequence of integrating socialization
into the moral human process of the temporal development of humanity.
In the same way, it is a matter of clearly indicating whether the figure of the
sovereign can make decisions according to a logic that imitates the founding of
a social order analogous to the one created by God. In fact, the social structur-
ing seems anterior to every governmental action. It is a result of the natural
law, without which every social organization is incapable of achieving
its proper ends. Consequently, the government actualizes such an order and
preserves it. Indeed, the tendency to live as a community does not lead to a
harmonious order that could be maintained by the free interplay of relations
among individuals without requiring a principal political director. Indeed, the

81 df 3.1.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 204). See De leg., 3.1.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 176–177); ibid., 3.1.12
(ed. Vivès, vol. 5, 179); De opere sex dierum 5.7.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 414).
order in the human sphere is not desired and achieved freely; it requires politi-
cal power.
When one investigates the origin of the position according to which political
power—on the condition of being instituted in conformity with the natural
law—is just and legitimate, as Suárez recalls,82 it leads one back to the thesis of
the pastorate, developed by Fathers of the Church such as St. Jerome83 and
St. Cyprian.84 Theologically considered, the pastorate is related to salvation,
since it is concerned with guiding each person as well as the community toward
salvation. In the interpretation of the Fathers of the Church mentioned above,
this implies that the pastorate is in a strict relation with the law, because the way
toward salvation requires a submission to the order willed by God. Consequently,
the pastorate is inseparable from faith in the truth proclaimed by religion.
Nevertheless, for Suárez, the political government of men is irreducible in its
comprehension of the pastorate of souls, in the same way, for instance, that he
clearly establishes the distinction in the finality of civil law and canonical law.
A precarious eschatology (taking its measure from the security, economy, imple-
mentation of regulations, preserving coexistence, etc.) that would make politi-
cal power possible is advanced in the face of an eschatology incapable of
managing the urgency of the present human condition. The political govern-
ment requires putting into place, in a historical setting, rules for determining
how to behave in relation with others, with institutions, and with the sovereign
power. To govern is not more intelligible as an act analogous to the divine act in
relation to nature, or a shepherd in relation to the flock, but it assumes the use
of a rationality proper to the historicization of the public sphere; that leads to a
limitation of the force of the stronger by the rule of law, an equalization of the
stronger and the possibility of a combination of the less powerful against the
more powerful. The temporal exercise of power is comparable to an anchoring
in the temporal sphere, underlining the indefinite process of the art of politics
and promoting in the same way a conception of an open historicity.
All social formation actually rests on a natural human development,
expressed by the fact of being a social animal. This status, however, cannot
hide the ambiguous situation of the human. On the one hand, by his liberty
and reason, man occupies a central place, which comes to confirm the supreme
end toward which he should be destined. On the other hand, however, he is
equally confronted with the uncertain and indeterminate character of his
destination; his humanity appears to him as a mark of his weakness and his

83 St. Hieronymus, Epistola 125, ad rusticum, n. 15 (pl 22, 1080).
84 St. Cyrpianus, Quod idola non sint, c. 8: csel 3, 26 (pl 3, 576).
52 Coujou
limits, with respect to a totality that exceeds him. The possibility of his improve-
ment, as the very reason that ensures his conservation, requires the omnipres-
ence of others. Thus, to define man as a social animal implies the recognition in
him of a moral task inseparable from improvement, by which he proves that he
is prepared to escape from the psychological and physical conditions of his
empirical existence. By the freedom of his will and the autonomy that his reason
confers on him, man carries within himself a power of rupture and beginning.
This likewise gives rise to the perspective of an accomplishment tending toward
a completion, directed by a providence reconciling man to the world. One such
improvement inseparable from the menace of corruption—insofar as it con-
firms the content of the notion of the state of nature—implies a constrained
and unachievable process, having the bearing of a propaedeutic of morality.
At the origin of the social bond between men, there is more than the contin-
gent character of a physical indigence on which Vitoria insisted in a pertinent
way. An ontological exigence here presides, for to be defined as a social animal
expresses a tension of nature versus grace, that is to say, the possibility for
freedom to transcend the ways of necessity accompanied by a refusal of an
empirical genesis of social and moral values. To exist humanly, man cannot
manage the economy in the Suárezian perspective apart from the help of
virtue (auxilium virtutis). Moreover, such assistance can only exist through the
society that constitutes the privileged instrument of the rectification of morals
and the union of individuals. Socialization as an opening of the specific earthly
destiny of man inaugurates the rational future of human destiny. Each man
has need of other men and the heritage of their experience,85 of tradition, of a
continuing collective labour, and of culture, as inscribed into the duration of
the humanity of each person in a world that can be his, thanks to the adequate
development of his aptitudes. This presupposes each man existing in a proper
place, conceived in a logic of extension: the family, the social group, the politi-
cal organization implying mutual assistance, and the universal bond of neces-
sity. Suárez brings to mind in this perspective the difference existing between
an imperfect or familial community, and the perfect or political community:
the first is composed of the husband, wife, and children, while the second,
which consists of numerous families, is self-sufficient and suitable in itself to
procure all the things necessary for a good life.86 For this to work, the existence
85 De opere sex dierum 5.7.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 415): “(…) non enim possent singuli omnia
per se experiri.”
86 De leg., 3.1.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 177): “(…) By the very nature of things, a political commu-
nity, consisting of at least a City-State and formed by several families, is necessary more-
over for the human race.”
of a power consonant to the government of the community is a condition

for the possibility of the preservation of its autonomy.87 The agreement of the
perfect community with reason and the natural law implies, in this perspec-
tive, a similar agreement with the power destined to govern, without which
there would be the threat of a political disgrace (discord and anarchy) and
ontological disgrace (corruption and estrangement from the supreme good).
Consequently, it would not be absurd to suppose that a constitution resting
completely on the principles of the natural law could remain for the human
species the ultimate justification of its historical existence.
For such an agreement to be historically effective, it is necessary to have
recourse to a civil magistrate who, by the sovereignty of his function, disposes
according to his political power, from the faculty enacted by laws,88 that which
necessarily includes—as the preceding analyses have shown—the power to
rule the members of the community. From the moment when each member
searches out his particular interest—frequently in contradiction to the
common good—a disharmony of fact, internal to the community, cannot be
denied. For as experience and political practice confirm, that which accidently
leads particular interests to accommodate themselves to the interests of the
common good, cannot conceal the fact that particular interests are satisfied,
not by respect for their common value, but quite simply because this responds
to their particular interest.89 This report carries in itself one of the proofs,
among those previously evoked, of “the legitimacy and the necessity of politi-
cal power,”90 the latter revealing to a man, or a multitude of men, that in which
the power of governing resides.
A double demand for understanding political power is made manifest by
this: that of explaining the necessity of obligatory force naturally, and that of
justifying it practically. For Suárez, one must understand, as he ironically
remarks, that such a power is incumbent on men because they “are not natu-
rally governed in politics by angels nor directly by God-Himself who ordinarily
operates by means of adequate causes.”91 Even among angels, there exists a
government and a hierarchy. Consequently, necessarily and naturally, men

88 Ibid., 3.1.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 177–178): “The human government, when it is sovereign in
its order, posseses the power of establishing laws proportionate to its sphere of compe-
tence, namely, it can establish the valid and just manner of civil or human laws by natural
right in order to realize the other conditions necessary for the law.”
54 Coujou
cannot be governed except by men.92 And within this perspective, the argu-
ment developed by Suárez does not rest on the reference to sin but on the
natural condition of man defined by the fact that “man is a social animal and
requires by nature a form of communitarian life before being necessarily ruled
by a public power.”93
A particular point of Suárezian reflection illustrates this. The metaphor of
the government of the angels and its parallel with the government of men
allows for a theological-political interpretation of the Kantian formula of the
“people of demons.”94 The problem of the fallen nature of man, by leaving
room for the natural condition of men, does not recover on account of the
theological inscription of the natural law in history; rather, it augments the
difficulty by the fact of its reference to the question of political power, that is
to say, it poses the question of the limit of the political realization of the prin-
ciples of the natural law and the renunciation of a model of a perfect civil
society. Thus, the temporal city will never be able to rejoin the eternal city of
God, since this would require that faith substitute itself as the unifying force of
the community by a natural bond. As neither the people of angels nor the
people of demons, the government of men by men confirms that it is not
morality that precedes a judicious organization of the State. On the contrary, it
is appropriate to hope by the latter for a possible moralization, with virtue rep-
resenting a necessary but not sufficient condition for the establishment of a
humane world. It is not necessary to have angels in order to constitute a State
that has the principles conformed to the natural law, for it is possible, as in the
last analysis, to find a solution for creatures whose motives for action rely on
the opposition to virtue. The power of the State and the organization of the
system of civil laws are directed at the universal requirement of conservation
claimed by every rational being; nevertheless, this does not hide the particular
interests striving to exempt themselves from the laws of the State, their force
being annulled in the end, which is to say that the public result is the same if
individuals are not guided by their particular interest and aspire naturally to
the common good.
As a result, the virtue achieved among human beings cannot be a condition
for the State’s coming to light: firstly, because the political order seems like it
92 df 3.2.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 211–212): “Royal power does not proceed by a divine posi-
tive institution; instead, it posseses its origin only from natural reason by means of the
free human will.”
94 Kant, Projet de paix perpétuelle, trans. J. Gibelin, 3° édition (Paris, 1975), 2° section, 1° sup-
plément, p. 44.
cannot escape the conflicts of empirical history, and secondly, because the
State has force as its origin. No moral transformation is required for the estab-
lishment of the State: neither angels nor demons are required, as it is necessary
to form it with human finitude and fallibility. These latter qualities are not
what defer indefinitely the formation of the political community; on the con-
trary, they can be utilized in its favour. If one considers the hostile passions of
individuals, the ones with regard to others like pride and concupiscence, they
appear in the perspective of reason calculated to work within the law as the
same matrix of the political order. The question of the establishment of the
State cannot, as a consequence, correspond to that of an organization con-
formed from the outset to the principles of the natural law. It comes back to
the articulation between the natural condition of men and their historical
development, implying the opposition of individual wills among themselves.
This condition does not render the problem of the State insoluble; rather, it
gives reason for the elements of its solution.
The power of the State is instituted “for ordering relations among men”;95 it
utilizes the antagonism of particular interests in working out this ordering, so
that it comes back to itself to produce a situation of equilibrium correspond-
ing to justice and peace.96 Such a situation harmonizes with one in which the
sovereign power of the law is affirmed: “A power is called sovereign when it
does not recognize any other power that would be superior to it.”97 It has the
function of rationally governing individual interactions by leading men who
constrain each other to conform themselves instead to the power of the law.
This latter function inscribes itself into the logic of a reform of morals, virtue
being considered in the political order as what is prepared to succeed to disci-
pline and not precede it. The rule of the law also assumes “a subjugation to the
civil order,” the sovereign power constituting “a certain form of dominion.”98
One understands then that the formation of the State is not dependent on the
moral improvement of man. Rather, it is necessary to say that the stability
achieved by the force of law and the calculations of right reason will make pos-
sible man’s access to virtue, through the intermediary of the “jurisdictional
dominion.”99 By the working of inter-individuality, men are compelled to
accept the constraint of this rule of law, which amounts to saying that they are
95 df 3.9.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 249).

96 Ibid., 3.5.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 224–225): “The political power is in itself ordered directly
and only to the well-being and happiness for the duration of the present life.”
56 Coujou
compelled to become good citizens who are prepared for the ethical destina-
tion of humanity. The recognition of the necessity of this constraint of the
rule of law does not mean that one can confuse it with the realization of
virtue. Consequently, one does not give an ethical value to the constraint
produced politically and empirically, as it is merely a technical efficacy. In this
sense, the logic of coercion induces rewards and punishments by technical
action, without intending to clothe them with a moral dimension. By the medi-
ation of the natural right, the natural law precisely calls to mind the fact that
the Machiavellian comprehension of jurisdiction—which bases it on legal
restraint—leads to a confusion of the law and the political order, the source of
despotism, from which one should flee.
The logic of the extension (from the social group to the political organiza-
tion) previously evoked, which is characteristic of the natural condition of
men and proper to the social bond, is equally understandable from the desire
for a happy life, which the political power is not able to manage. The process of
socialization requires a community directed to the good. It reveals that such a
desire is tied to the original absence of this good, and in the same way, it implies
an effort to remedy it. In the state of nature, this desire expresses a tendency
toward its proper growth. Thus, the desire to be happy is inseparable from the
joy that presupposes the presence of others as the condition for its diversifica-
tion and augmentation. Suárez confirms this central dimension of inter-
individuality from the notion that sharing “this community of life is not only
desirable because of the necessity of mutual assistance but also because it is
desirable in itself, namely, for the great pleasure of living and honest commu-
nication that man truly loves.”100 The process of socialization and historical
development reinforce this ontological principle. It likewise makes clear that
the inscription of law into human history harmonizes not with nationality but
with human culture according to nature. The political history of societies,
being composed as the mode of empirical and earthly existence of humanity,
is concerned with promoting a cultural conception of history that rationalizes
its function. The historical reality of the natural law will be justified by its des-
tination. In recognizing man as a social animal, for Suárez it is a matter of
refusing to conform the law to nature in order to reconcile it to the destiny of
man, which thus implies searching in the future of humanity for reasons for its
intelligibility, with grace confirming, from the theological point of view, such
an inquiry. According to this perspective, the natural law, in terms of its end, is
inscribed into a practical teleological vision constituting the guiding path of
human development in order to bestow upon it a meaning and a consistency.
100 De opere sex dierum 5.7.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 415).

It plays the role of a critical model of the legitimate representation of the final-
ity of societies in history. In the end, by its articulation of the right of nations,
it truly allows a prospective deciphering of the development of law.
To be a social animal is linked logically in the same way to the means that
providence employs for constraining individuals to inscribe themselves into
the realm of inter-individuality, in order to become engaged in the process of
civilization. Suárez makes clear that “the civil authority with temporal power
for governing men is just and in conformity with human nature.”101 In this
respect, society is seen as a natural and empirical phenomenon, a production
of the artistic nature subservient to the designs of providence. The constraint
that results from this proceeds from force and expresses the power of a unify-
ing coercion without which one could just as easily reduce the instrumental
role of the social community to the realm of natural necessity. In this sense,
society constitutes a necessary product of nature by which individuals are
removed from the violence of purely passionate relations. Society must, how-
ever, prefigure the possibility of allowing a government that rests exclusively
on the principles of the natural law. If it is proper to recognize conceptually a
division between the state of nature and the civil state (history previously
allowed rationalizing the transition from one to another), the latter remains
inseparable from the process of the civilization of morals. It will pertain
historically to politics to regulate, according to the natural law, the problem of
the ends of the social existence of man.
The need for compulsion in its unifying function brings forth an echo of the
need for political power, natural society reflecting back in this way to the emer-
gence of every State out of force. This point cannot exclude the first character
of political unity, the original form of human unity. Historically, it seems that
the political exercise of compulsion precedes the juridical foundation of a gov-
ernmental authority that is prepared to be accepted freely. If the governor is
the empirical holder of force, it is equally assumable by an agent of the natural
unity of the people. In this sense, the political coercion flows from an instru-
mental rationalization of the nature by which the governors are occasionally
the causal expression. They are identifiable as the means of a development
whose finality can feasibly escape them.
The question of compulsion in the articulation of the establishment of the
legislative power does not miss solving the following problem: does the legisla-
tive power reside in men considered individually, in the community, or in the
combination of the two?102 As it has been explained, no individual is naturally

58 Coujou
superior to others, and it remains problematic to determine who in the com-

munity could have received such power; this could not spring from men them-
selves because no one is prepared to give what he does not possess, namely, the
power of commanding other men. God cannot be any more at the origin, since
that would suppose that the power could never change hands and it should
always perdure in the human community, thus signifying that the latter would
endure indefinitely, which is evidently contradicted by historical development.
It seems clear that the legislative power does not by nature reside “in any
particular man but in the total collection of men.”103 Hence, it is necessary to
exclude the thesis of a political authority residing in atomized individuals, just
as previously it was rejected that God directly communicates the authority to
a determined man, the monarch, as James I advanced with his theory of the
divine right of kings.
It remains, no less, that these precisions cannot forget that the State consti-
tutes an entity ontologically independent of individual consent. In fact, the
genesis of the State becomes intelligible from the social nature of man, articu-
lated by a teleological process, which only implies the participative power of
individuals as secondary causes. The State historically possesses an objective
end as a means for the temporal fulfillment of the humanity in man. Its status
is determined in terms of a subtle dialectical articulation between nature and
history. The political power, in reference to its origin, is in a position to be qual-
ified as natural precisely because natural reason, independent of faith and
supernatural revelation, enables the determining of what is indispensable for
the conservation and tranquility of the State.104 This constitutes precisely the
proof for Suárez that power “exists in this community in the manner of a prop-
erty derived from nature or from the creation of the State and its natural con-
stitution.”105 One theological argument comes to support this thesis, namely,
that it would be a contradiction to claim that this power could be the object of
a specific donation of God and a concession unconnected to nature, because
103 Ibid., 3.2.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 180–181), and df 3.2.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 207): “In the first
place, the sovereign public power, considered in itself, was conferred directly by God to
men united in one State or in one complete political community, not in virtue of an insti-
tution or an act of specific and positive bestowal, nor by a donation totally distinct from
the creation of such a nature, but by natural consequence from the force of its initial
creation. This is why, in virtue of this form of donation, the political power does not reside
in one single person or in a determined multitude but in the whole of the people or the
body of the community.”
104 df 3.2.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 207).
this state of affairs would lead by degrees to an impossibility of political and

historical reality: that of knowing the power by natural reason alone and invok-
ing at the same time the necessity of recourse to revelation. Men, by the same
fact that they associate historically to give birth to a State, make the power
appear dissociated from the intervention of the human will.106
In this perspective, the community is identifiable with the totality derived
from the interaction of nature and will. For Suárez, the necessity of power fol-
lows as an unavoidable consequence. In this sense, ontologically and histori-
cally, nature and will harmonize and complement one another. In fact, if one
considers that man is a political animal, that consequently he has been created
as free but also with an intrinsic aptitude to conform himself to an authority—
and, as a result, if what defines man does not depend on the will of associated
men—there is no conflict between the will to live-in-common and the reality
of obedience to an authority.107
Politically and historically, power represents “a good use of human nature.”108
When one considers power in its physical and moral aspects, “it must necessar-
ily spring from the author of nature.” Furthermore, “those who exercise this
power in the human community are ministers of God. They do nothing but
administer the power they have received from God.”109 Theologically, it is legit-
imate to assert that all power constitutes a temporal imitation of the infinite
and perfect power of the Ipsum Esse. The creature is not prepared to order by
itself because it does not exist by itself. Political authority is ontologically the
reality of a being subject to participation, an ens participatum.110 This explains
precisely why power is not the prerogative of anyone by nature, and it is neces-
sary to insist on the fact that God has not assigned authority to sovereigns
according to an identical modality by which he has assigned it to pontiffs;111
consequently, it is proper to hold historically to a judicious distinction between
temporal power and spiritual power.
The Suárezian logic of demonstration here takes the following form: every-
thing from the natural law comes forth from God as the author of nature; the
political sovereignty is the natural law, and consequently, it has God as its
author. This creation of nature and power by God implies that the emergence
of power and the emergence of the community go hand in hand.112 The human

110 df 3.1.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 205).
111 De leg., 3.2.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 180); df 3.2.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 206).
60 Coujou
multiplicity in politics can reflect in its own way the order of being as a whole,
which is expressed temporally in the following manner: the power resides in
the community, for the community. Politically, the ontological unity between
the power and the community (which takes on a circular form since there is no
community without power and this power exists itself originally in the com-
munity) is inseparable from the revelation of its proper good, discovering
again in the same way the convertibility between being and the good. The cor-
pus mysticum politicum and the original democracy constitute precisely a his-
torical expression of this convertibility in their will to fulfill the humanity in
man through peace and justice. The human person, a finite creature included
between nature and freedom, understands himself historically from three
centers of unavoidable references: the community, the power, and the law.
By means of this triple center of reference, moral theology seems inseparable
in its logic from the achievement of a social ethic and a political philosophy.
As the previous remarks on the notion of the political contract have shown,
such a contract inserts itself into the framework of a society understood as a
whole, looking toward the fulfillment of the public good and capable of recog-
nizing the legitimacy of an authority as the principal director. If one considers
the origin of the political society and that of political power, they are, by their
simultaneity, inseparable. Nevertheless, the constitution of the political
authority is not reducible to a human artifice; it is the object of an immediate
donation by God as the Creator of nature, and the form of human nature is
granted by God, who determines what is inherent to it. The political exigency
comes together on this point with theological exigency to open the way to a
teleological understanding of the possible fulfillment of man in history.
4 The Historical Finality of the State
The genesis of the State historically reveals that each political body tends to
develop for itself a complete society supplanting the forms of primitive com-
munities that were materially there from the beginning. From the intra-state
point of view, it has been shown that the moral legitimacy of acts of civil obe-
dience is inseparable from the pursuit of the common good. The generalized
duty of subordination to the laws of the State exists in virtue of such an ordina-
tion toward this common good. The latter appears historically as the result of
values and social conditions, whose fulfillment creates the matrix of a situa-
tion of peace, justice, and public prosperity. From this it follows that, tempo-
rarily, the common good circumscribes the autonomy of the political order.
Such a good historically manifests the material and spiritual realization proper
to each State, and constitutes a specific reference to the political sphere.

It incarnates itself into the right to truth, culture, freedom, and religion. The
natural rights realized historically in the State represent the first moment of
this common good, identified with the good of persons defined as being free.
The intra-state ordination toward the common good is, in the final analysis,
the ordination of each citizen toward himself. The legitimacy of political power
implies for such adequacy the respect of the fundamental values of the person
and the setting up of adequate means in order that citizens may be prepared to
realize the values that look after the preservation and growth of their human-
ity. This analysis, by confirming from the historical and social perspective the
irreducibility of the common good to the sum of particular goods, insists on
the super-individual character of the good for which the political community
must aim. It follows that politically, but likewise ontologically, the difference
between the common good and the particular good cannot be reduced to a
merely quantitative difference. The State in its historical evolution thus reveals
that the citizens, as well as their political existence, enter into a process of dif-
ferentiation, making up a moral whole through the unity of consent, in refer-
ence to the unity of one power and in terms of a unity of purpose. With respect
to its development, the State must be set forth as a collective and independent
person, expressive of rights and specific duties flowing from their ordination to
the common good.
In this sense, in the interpretive perspective, the examination of history
reveals that this common good assumes a dynamic and varied character in
terms of the past and the specific situation of each country, namely, in terms of
geography, climate, and development. Political pluralism remains articulated
according to the will and the customs of each nation, which comes back to the
recognition that there is no political predetermination. In the same way as it
has established the consideration of custom, the condition of the possibility of
the justice of one human law cannot lack an accord and a mutual agreement
with the morals of a nation. Nevertheless, the recognition of the historical and
variable character of the common good cannot pass in silence over what is the
only conceivable contribution to the realization of a possible order. This order
is a result of justice, as prudence was a result of law and political practice.
Since historically and politically this order takes the form of calculation and
foresight, it implies in its application a search for tolerance, in order to pre-
serve social harmony. Politically, this historic dynamic of the common good
makes the diversification of the forms of government clear while making com-
munal order and freedom possible within the temporal realm.
In this perspective, peace is historically identified with a situation of social
coexistence according to the order of freedom. Man constitutes himself here
62 Coujou
as a person, that is to say, as a member of the State and the world community.
According to Vitoria as well as Suárez, the development of States also shows
that peace should culminate in the assertion of itself in order to respond to
a social reality of interhuman, political, and international relations. The
search for the common good assumes that freedom and power express
themselves in an objective order, natural and independent of the human will,
which refines and actualizes itself throughout history. The development
of States reveals as a consequence a dynamic of peace, held historically
between the natural order and the institutionalization of power. In this sense,
the order of peace appears inseparable from a juridical order. It includes, in its
foundation and development, the rights of the person, the State, and the inter-
national community—conditions for the possibility of the progress of nations.
Economic relations—the search for equity in the financial political order—
constitute a determined element in the actuality of such a development.
The ethical-political dimension of the origin of the State likewise resides for
Suárez in the refusal of every attempt—past or yet to come—to establish a
universal society by force and in reference to a power that extends to the whole
human race.113 Suárez114 objects to the thesis of Bartolus of Sassoferrato,115
affirming that the Roman Emperor and his successors possess and exercise a
supreme power over the whole world, which the Spanish Jesuit deems errone-
ous and unfounded. The Emperor never received from God such a universal
power, argues Suárez, and he likewise never gained it. Consequently, since
Christ never granted him such power, the supreme Pontiff, who has only an
indirect power over temporal affairs, would not have any right to recognize
such power in the Emperor. First, in terms of history, the power of governing
has never been one for the totality of the human race; it necessarily became
something shared among the multiplicity of existing societies.116 Secondly,
the existence of a universal political society never seemed necessary for the
conservation and common good of humanity. In fact, not only would such a
society prove to be a fabrication of the imagination, but even its existence
113 Ibid., 3.2.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 181): “It is not necessary for conservation or natural well-
being that all men unite together into a single political community.”
115 Bartolus a Saxoferrato, In Digestum commentaria (Turin, 1589), livre 59, tit. 15, loi 24,
nn. 6–7, fol. 275.
116 De leg., 3.3.6 (ed. Vivès, vol 5, p. 183), and Aristote, Politics, 4.3.1290 a 5–7: “One sees clearly,
by what follows, that there should necessarily exist several types of political society differ-
ing specifically one from the others since the parts of our societies are also composed
differing specifically among themselves.”
would risk bringing harm to humanity. Referring to Aristotle, Suárez reminds

us that a city that is too large necessarily faces difficulty with its government.
This difficulty, moreover, intensifies when a State is inordinately extended, and
even more so in the case of the government of a world society.117
The diversification of the human race into peoples and States cannot
obscure the ‘political and moral unity’ required by the natural law of charity
and by mutual love.118 Two juridical orders can be drawn out from this: one is
national, invested with a sovereignty specific to inter-individual relations; the
other is international, possessing a sovereignty relative to relations among
states. Historically but also ontologically, each State is a part of this whole in
developing what represents the human race. In this sense, a universal society
of States imposes a moral necessity upon constituted States. This implies the
necessity of mutual assistance and of a universal common good. In conformity
with this perspective, it will be legitimate to evoke a society of nations and an
international law. Such a society is ruled by the law of nations, a positive law
with an essentially customary origin that governs relations among nations in a
sovereign manner.
The articulation between the intra-state realm and the inter-state realm
helps as well in considering the relativity of States from a historical and theo-
logical point of view. The power of the Prince or the Sovereign Pontiff—in its
quality of temporal dominion exercised in the name of the community that
transfers the power to him—cannot claim to take effect except on a national
level. The laws promulgated by the sovereign cannot claim to apply to the
whole human race in its global dimension; its power only has meaning relative
to the sphere subject to its jurisdiction.119 One must therefore conclude that
the sovereign’s power of governing is limited to the jurisdiction in which it is
exercised.120 To be a temporal sovereign means, consequently, having the
power to govern solely the juridical order to which it is connected.
From the point of view of ecclesiology, it is fitting to recall that sovereignty
receives its double limitation from the divine positive law, which has effected
its restriction to the purely temporal domain, and from the divine moral or
natural law, which, because it is teleologically oriented toward political society,
restricts its powers to the means required for such a realization of ends. If the
State exists as a political order originating from the Creator—which, according

118 Des lois, II, 19, n. 9, p. 627.
119 De leg., 3.7.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 195), and ibid., 3.6.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 192–193).
120 Ibid., 3.9.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 202): “(…) All sovereign kings possess legislative power in
the sphere that corresponds to them, namely each one within his own proper kingdom.”
64 Coujou
to juridical terminology, amounts to saying that it is from the natural law—it

does not depend any less on an agreement of citizens and therefore belongs to
the realm of human positive law.121 In fact, the domain of the State’s compe-
tence belongs to the temporal order, but the path to the religious supernatural
good must be entrusted to the Church, the ecclesiastic society supremely
charged with sovereign power in the subject-matter: “The rule that determines
rectitude and morality of government must be spiritual.”122 The Church
includes all the powers that are indispensible for the supernatural good of
believers, which are precisely conferred on her by Christ.123 From a theologi-
cal-political perspective, the power of the Church in the religious realm is
equivalent to a supreme power.124 The access to supernatural happiness and
the religious good that this entails cannot belong historically to the compe-
tence of the State, which is teleologically oriented toward temporal welfare.125
The finality of the State does not consist in assuring the spiritual welfare of its
members here below. On the other hand, the religious good temporarily
considered is ordered in itself to the supernatural happiness of the future life.
The relation between the State and the Church leads precisely to investigating
the bond between history and theology at the time when the appearance
and consolidation of national States were progressively diminishing and the
Schism and conciliarist ideas contributed to disturbing papal power.
This raises the following question, namely, whether the Church, with respect
to the historical development of the State, could and should constitute a politi-
cal society, since etymologically—corresponding to its usage in Greek political
thought—it designates the assembly of citizens.126 A corresponding question
asks: to what extent is it the Church’s responsibility to recognize the autonomy
of the temporal order vis-à-vis its jurisdiction? Inquiring into the development
of the State also means inquiring into the status of the Christian State. This
questioning enters into the process of the development of moral theology
as an independent discipline, and is applied to the practical problems of
social life. Historically, this implies that morality is inscribed into a theological
framework in which international law (and the situation of the Americas) is
121 df 3.6.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 236–237).

122 De leg., 4.9.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, pp. 366–367).
123 Ibid., 4.1.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 329): “This power is a type of jurisdiction that pertains to the
external ecclesiastical forum, and, for this reason, it is given by the Lord Christ with the
attributes proper to jurisdiction.”
124 Ibid., 4.1.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 329): “The power of Christ, our Lord, is principally ordained
to a spiritual and supernatural end, and on this account it came into this world.”
126 Aristote, Politics, 2.10.1272a10.
confronted, as are political and economic problems, and the origin and exer-
cise of civil and ecclesiastical power. Inquiry into the status of the Christian
State in history signifies an extension of the function of theology; the latter
cannot be limited to uncovering and analyzing the power, goodness, and provi-
dence of God. Theology asserts itself at the same time in its speculative dimen-
sion, as well as in its practical dimension (in relation to the virtues, laws, grace,
and the sacraments). If the proper object of theology is in the first place identi-
fied as God as he communicates Himself in divine revelation, it is equally
identified in the second place as God, the principle and end of created beings.
It follows that earthly realities likewise constitute the objects of theology, as
they are created by God and in permanent relation with Him. In relation to this
second perspective, it seems that theology also has man as an object, since he
is a creature who reflects the being of God in a specific manner. Theology will
consequently study, in a completely appropriate manner, all that relates to
man as a creature of God, along with his ends and the means that guide these,
such as the State.
When one considers for example the relation between the Church and a
non-Christian State, the ecclesiastical power is confronted with the possibility
of a redefinition prejudicial to its space of exercise. Nevertheless, if one admits
that the State is founded on the natural law, by its status as a moral person, it
must respect the rights of the other and has the obligation to fulfill its juridical
and ethical duties. The pope, as representative of the Church, embodies in
himself an indirect power of the latter over the pagan State. From these
remarks, it is fitting to keep in mind that for Suárez, the understanding of the
relations between the State and the Church assumes that they are two entities
with distinct powers, having defined objects of office. In this sense, Suárez
rejects the thesis of Marsilius of Padua, which claims that the Church does not
receive any power of specific jurisdiction.127 If one refers to the notion of power
according to Marsilius of Padua, it must be linked to secular principles, whereas
the administration of the sacraments and the preaching of the divine Word
come back exclusively to the Church. This also affirms the preponderance of
the emperor over the Christian world. As Suárez reminds us,128 Henry VIII
turned the thesis of Marsilius of Padua to his advantage by affirming the total-
ity of the emperor’s power, whether it be of spiritual or temporal nature.
Historically, neither Henry VIII nor James I recognized any difference between
the spiritual and the temporal power, for they compelled the Parliament to
grant them the spiritual power as if it were the equivalent of the temporal
127 df 3.6.5–6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 232–233).

66 Coujou
power. Suárez129 determines that the source of this historic and juridical
relation of the Church to the State is in the Protestant thesis of Luther130
and Calvin, according to which there was no true sacrifice in the Church, and
consequently no true priesthood.131 Rather, they claimed that the sacrifice was
merely symbolic, and the priesthood could be attributed to all Christians.
It follows as a conclusion that, once one claims there is no power of specific
original jurisdiction in the Church, the jurisdictional power included in the
spiritual domain cannot have any source other than the temporal power.
It seems necessary for Suárez, following the light of St. Augustine, to bring
up the following corrections to this point: if the kingdom of Christ is a spiritual
kingdom (“this kingdom of Christ is neither material nor temporal but spiri-
tual and eternal”132), a mystical body, perfect and unique, is “a simple kingdom
spread out into the whole of the world,”133 it pertains to it to govern by a spiri-
tual power appropriate to juridical principles. Such a power subsists in the
Church, due to the fact that in the theological-political perspective of Suárez,
a kingdom cannot endure independently of a power that insures its historical
actuality; the specificity of the Church resides likewise in the fact that it is
inscribed in a permanent manner in heaven and on earth.134
The Church and the State must be distinguished by their origin, their nature,
and their internal structure. In conformity with the theses of Francisco de
Vitoria and Domingo de Soto, Suárez rejects the direct power of the pope over
temporal matters while affirming his indirect temporal power. The justifica-
tion for the specific independence of temporal power in relation to spiritual
power resides in the fact that the first—in its domain by the same right as the
second—is sufficient in itself (per se sufficiens), the two powers having been
instituted according to a distinct modality by God; and it follows from this that
every sovereign power is a supreme judge in its kingdom, created by its repub-
lic in temporal affairs. The Church, for its part, was directly instituted by a
divine positive law, by a founding act of Christ. With respect to the power of
the State, it is not instituted by divine positive law but by the natural law, which
likewise amounts to saying that the form of government rests purely on human
law.135 If the temporal power is apt to reach by itself toward the end for which

130 Luther, Evangelien-Auslegung, mk 7, 31–37 (Göttingen, 1954), p. 14.
131 df 3.6.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 232).
135 De Censuris 2.1.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 23, pp. 12–13): “Quod fit, ut usus hujus potestatis propter
hanc causam non possit dici simpliciter aut divinus aut de iure divino, tum quia actus,
it was instituted, namely, the temporal common good,136 it seems logical that
it possesses autonomy with respect to every other power that pertains to its
excellence. Nevertheless, the subordination of ends in the order of creation
that have hitherto been disclosed imposes limits on this autonomy, and it is
proper to invoke in this case an indirect power ordered to a supernatural end.
Given that the order of grace does not abolish the order of nature, it is clear
that citizens will need to show obedience to legitimate sovereigns, even if the
latter are pagans and rule over Christians. In the final analysis, Suárez explains
that the independence between the two powers does not lead to a radical sepa-
ration. It follows that there is a specific relation between the two: the spiritual
power possesses a supremacy by virtue of its end, the celestial happiness; how-
ever, the end of the temporal power, civil happiness (an end that cannot be
perfect in itself), is itself ordered to celestial happiness. It follows that every
civil power, whatever it may be, must refer itself to the spiritual power that is
unique to the community of Christians.
The ecclesiastical power, as a supernatural power, has been instituted
according to this perspective by a founding act of Christ, who has determined
the form of government137 and willed the following: that the Church last until
the end of time as the visible kingdom of God, which assumes that the Church,
considered as a perfect society, is the institution of a supreme authority capa-
ble of ensuring its unity. If one considers the constitution of the State, it is, by
way of difference, of a purely human right, and is determined by the members
who make it up. At the same time, it sheds light on the historicity of man, his
true historical existence, which is something experienced by each people and
the means by which he acquires his own essence. This constitution is con-
nected to a history of the human person, implying that each nation contends
with other peoples and events in the decision it is led to take. And, according
to Suárez, the difference evoked is still confirmed by the fact that States are
historically multiple, while the Church is fundamentally universal.138
in quo talis usus consistit, non est a potestate divina immediate, sed ab humana; tum quia
fit arbitrio et modo humano et ab hominibus invento, ut dicitur.”
136 df 3.6.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 236–237).
137 Ibid., 3.9.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 249): “Christ, by his particular institution, looked ahead
(one may say) and elevated the spiritual government of the Church. First, by instituting it
in the mode of one mystical body diffused throughout the whole earth in which the unity
of faith and the harmony in the fundamental rite of religion is directed to the worship of
God and the sanctification of men.”
138 Ibid., 3.5.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 228): “For the Church includes in herself different king-
doms and States which, according to this political dimension, do not have any unity
among themselves. Therefore, by virtue of natural right, there does not exist in the whole
68 Coujou
One deduces here a superiority of the Church over the State, since the latter
only possesses a relative and non-absolute sovereignty. In fact, the end of
the State is subject: (1) to the final end of man according to the realization
of eternal happiness by means of holiness in this life, which is procured by
the Church; and (2) to the objective end of the totality identified with the glory
of God. It is precisely from this point that Christianity can show what it brings
to a State, which historically seems self-sufficient to itself. From the eschato-
logical perspective and from the problematic of the hierarchy of ends, the
superiority of the spiritual power is deducible from the fact that the two pow-
ers spring forth from God, and in the same way they are only participants in
the divine power. And, ontologically, one recognizes the thesis according to
which there exists a graduation ordained to participation in being and good-
ness, in terms of which it is natural that a being, though ontologically deficient,
through a relation to another submitted to him can himself be submitted, in
the same way that it happens according to the example of the body and the
soul.139 In terms of this constant, to what extent can the Church thus recognize
the autonomy of earthly republics with respect to the ultimate end, whose
interests it knows it represents in history? If the State must be founded histori-
cally on the natural law, it likewise becomes legitimate to demand how this law
will be recognized by the Church. It seems clear that the political order has not
been assimilated into a spiritual order; it pertains to it to conserve its validity
and its autonomy even though it appears that history in its political dimension
is elusive to those who construct it, men apparently knowing what they want
without knowing as much what they are doing.
The State is created by natural law; it is accomplished in history, which
appears at first unintelligible because it presents a confused entanglement of
events. Nevertheless, if history constitutes a mystery, is it really impossible for
man to discern in it a general evolution or moments of a guided development?
community of the Church one supreme temporal and universal jurisdiction over the
whole Church, but there are as many supreme temporal jurisdictions as there are political
communities, which are not members of one reign or civil State.”
139 df 3.21.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, pp. 302–303): “(…) In explaining the difference between the
spiritual power and the temporal power, I have sufficiently demonstrated the excellence
of the second in relation to the first, and I expressed the same thing ex professo in my
work, De legibus. And having assumed the difference between the two powers, hardly any
doubt can be considered; for the spiritual power is a more elevated participation in the
divine power, having more perfect effects, a higher end, a more noble origin; and it is of
such a superior order in divinity and excellence—as the holy Fathers have demonstrated
with various expressions that I have already noted in cited passeges.”
This creation of the State as a sovereign moral person (dependent nevertheless

on other States) reveals in its plan and its necessity perspectives of the divine
wisdom. That leads to recognizing that the human order, ruling its collective
existence in the heart of republics and nations, is joined again to the order of
God. This latter truth does not annihilate the free exercise of the human will in
history, implying at the same time that political action finds its reference in
providential action. This latter point should establish the idea of the unity of
history and its teleological unfolding, while still guaranteeing the proposition
of eschatological perfection. From an eschatological point of view, divine prov-
idence extracts the good from a bad historical account that men are not in a
position to prevent or to which God, in order not to deny human freedom, does
not wish to impede. Historically, the laws of States vary within limits estab-
lished by the natural law, and Suárez’s analysis has precisely shown that the
violation of the natural law leads to a negation—for the shorter or longer
term—of the State by itself, namely, the disintegration of its purely human
status. The State asserts itself in a history where it accomplishes the function
assigned to it by divine providence, which makes the sovereigns conform to
designs that surpass them.
When one considers the question of the birth of States, one is inevitably led
to examine their growth and possible annihilation, as the movement of politi-
cal history confirms with the emblematic examples of Athens and the Roman
Empire. This history represents a cycle of the emergence and disappearance of
kingdoms, republics, and empires. If the State primitively had been the prod-
uct of pure relations of force, implying at the same time a state of instability
proper to the reversibility of these very relations, the transition from this pre-
carious situation toward the stable exercise of a power resting on the legiti-
mate authority of the natural law is the index of progress. On the one hand, the
emergence of States had actually favoured their factionalization, though on
the other hand, the extension of the geopolitical and anthropological horizon
from the encounter with of the New World opens the way to the thesis of a
global community. As the previous study on the law of nations made clear,
the focus on the foundation of state unity should be on equal footing with
the deepening of the theory of the communitas orbis, an expression of the need
for a human society transcending the controvertible historical bonds among
the States.
The conception of the political society as a perfect and autonomous repub-
lic, and the conception of the Church as a supra-national society encompass-
ing the whole of Christian nations, should be accompanied by the inauguration
of an international society comprising the human race. In this sense, the States,
70 Coujou
as members of one humanity, constitute the domain of the application of the

law of nations. The perspective of a universal community was in fact, as Vitoria
and Suárez remind us, foreign to the peoples of antiquity, torn apart by perma-
nent wars among nations; it is equally absent in Greek thought, which claimed
the City-State as the culmination of every political form. As one considers men
or States, one sees that these are historically led to understand themselves as
elements of a universal human society. The latter implies the transcendence of
national citizenship, and at the same time a gathering together of the human
race in the unity of its destination. It concerns invoking not only the perspec-
tive of a universal society—the principal founder of the identity of nature
among men as free and rational beings—but also constituting a communitar-
ian horizon, an opening toward the future and the possible by expressing the
refusal to restrict the humanity of man from his historical positivity. If one
envisages the rights of people with respect to the destination of the human
race, they appear naturally cosmopolitan and their realization assumes the
transcendence and limitation of national sovereignties through an association
in conformity with the law of nations. For anthropology and for history, the
juridical significance of cosmopolitanism is not separated from its cultural and
moral achievement. It is fitting to focus on what is common to nations, as
opposed to emphasizing their particularities at the risk of discrediting the
interhuman values of civilization.
5 Conclusion
In considering the Defensio fidei and the De legibus, the Suarézian moment is
placed, it seems, into a long-standing movement in political philosophy, which
integrates the ancient notion of the State and the Aristotelian definition of
man as a rational animal into the concept of faith, all while maintaining the
rights of the individual and preserving the Christian idea of freedom, expressed
in the theory of the natural law. The united position of a sovereign State and a
sovereign individual carries with it a mutual disputation over the limitations
assigned to their power by the natural law. Nevertheless, the possibility of this
confrontation is inscribed into the implicit recognition that the order of the
universe resides in the subordination of plurality to unity; human society, in a
manner analogous to the relation existing between unity and plurality, implies
the assignment of one common end to a single plurality, from the fact that the
latter will not be able to arrive unless social unity governs this plurality and
directs it toward its specific end, namely, the historical-political fulfillment of
humanity from which the mystical body, as the more expanded spiritual and
temporal universitas, manifests the commonwealth of the human race. For

human plurality to be realized it will, consequently, need to organize itself
with a regulative unity that belongs precisely to the civil law to achieve in rul-
ing the practical order.
(English translation by Robert Fastiggi)

chapter 3
Suárez, Heidegger, and Contemporary Metaphysics

It is simply wrong to say without further ado that metaphysics is essen-

tially limited to the knowledge of being and that it must go beyond that to
reach being. Philosophy invents itself; the history of philosophy informs.
étienne gilson
Half a century ago, Étienne Gilson asked: “Is there anything new in the adven-
tures of being?”1 The question was addressed, cum grano salis, to Heidegger, as
one is made to understand by the reply immediately given:
Is there anything new in the adventures of being? This first comes up as

the importance of being comes to be rediscovered and the problem of
being is revived in the thought of certain contemporary philosophers. In
order to renew it, they also propose to draw close to those data that were
there at the origin of things, before God had penetrated it or been
introduced.
Gilson, in the appendix that accompanies the second version of L’être et

l’essence, already evokes the ‘case of Heidegger’, who the great historian at once
greets warmly as a companion along the way, but also severely criticizes:
One would like to know how to tell Martin Heidegger how many unknown
companions he has on the road where he sometimes, one might say,
believes himself to be alone. And perhaps also that on those lost paths of
the height of philosophical thought the most shrewd forest rangers some-
times delude themselves into believing they know where they are.2
This last remark is far from being a simple caprice, as the extension of this
reflection in the Constantes philosophiques indicates:
When one is discouraged about meditating on being, one could be put at

ease by observing the case of Heidegger. For here one finds concern for
1 J.-F. Courtine, ed., Constantes philosophiques de l’être (Paris, 1983), p. 201.

2 L’Être et l’Essence (Paris, 1962 2), p. 377.

Suárez, Heidegger, And Contemporary Metaphysics 73
protecting against God a notion of being that would not even have Him
come to mind if it had not inherited that which is better suited to the
theology of the Middle Ages.3
There is no need here to give an account of the Thomism of Étienne Gilson, nor
to subscribe to the idea that the great historian had rather imprudently employed
the phrase “the metaphysics of the Exodus”4 in order to note that the ‘reception’
of Heidegger in the heart of the medievalist, both in Europe and in the United
States, seizes upon the essential point of the renewed interest his work has
aroused in the matter of ontology. The repetition (Wiederholung) of the ques-
tion of being—or more generally, of the sense of ‘being’, the accent placed on
the verbal or participial meaning of the word ‘to be’5—finds an echo particu-
larly powerful in the field of philosophical and theological studies, whether it
concerns Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, or the aforesaid ‘late
scholasticism’. Certainly, Heidegger is neither the first nor the only one at the
beginning of the last century to restore to ontology its scholarly nobility.
Indeed, the credit should first go to Husserl for having rehabilitated ‘ontol-
ogy’ in 1913, a term until then deplored, at least since Kant. This rehabilitation
would play such a considerable role for the question of being that the resolu-
tion was accompanied by a new division—into formal ontology and local
ontologies—which had not been manifested in the classical schemas of gen-
eral metaphysics and special metaphysics, nor even in the mathesis and ontic
sciences.6 The turning point has often been noted, especially for understand-
ing the Husserl-Meinong debate7 and for characterizing what Husserl, in the
3 Constantes philosophiques de l’être, p. 210.

4 L’esprit de la philosophie médiévale, 2nd edition (Paris, 1948), p. 50, n. 1.
5 Cf. on the verbal sense of being, E. Levinas, “Martin Heidegger et l’ontologie” (1932), repeated
in En découvrant l’existence avec Husserl et Heidegger, 2nd edition (Paris, 1967), pp. 53–76; see
also on the particial sense, P. Hadot, “L’être et l’étant dans le néoplatonisme,” in Études néo-
platoniciennes, coll., “Langages,” La Baconnière (Neuchâtel, 1973), pp. 27–41.
6 In § 10 of the Ideen I (Husserliana, III, 1, Nijhoff [La Haye, 1976], pp. 27–28), Husserl tries to
specify the distinction between local, material, and formal ontology; in the period of the
Logische Untersuchungen, he makes clear, “I have not yet dared to adopt the expression of
ontology, which has become improper for different historical reasons: I have designated their
study (op. cit., 222) as a fragment of an ‘a priori theory of the object as such’, what Meinong
gathered together under the title of Gegenstandstheorie (theory of the object). On the con-
trary, I now hold as more correct—while taking note of the change in the situation in our
epoch—the restoration of the ancient expression of ontology.”
7 Cf. for a recent and exemplary treatment, see Jocelyn Benoist “Husserl, Meinong et la ques-
tion de l’ontologie,” in Phénoménologie, sémantique, ontologie, Husserl et la tradition logique
autrichienne (Paris, 1997), pp. 169–196.
74 Courtine
draft of the foreword to the revised edition of the Logical Investigations, named
“the purely rational science of objects,”8 in opposition to the tradition that had
identified “ontology and science a priori as that which is actually real (wirklich).”
Less attention, on the other hand, is given to the ‘change of situation’ that
allowed for the return of the idea of ontology.9 The fact that the expression of
ontology could become “shocking for different historical reasons” is without
doubt sufficiently explained in reference to the Kantian decision, reiterated by
the Neo-Kantians, to abandon “the proud name of ontology” in order to substi-
tute it with the greater “modesty of a simple analytic of pure understanding;”10
as for the change allowing for a restoration of honour to ‘the ancient expres-
sion’, it seems to us directly tied to the Meinongian Gegenstandstheorie, and in
particular to the work of a student of Meinong, Hans Pichler, the author of a
remarkable little work in 1910 entitled Über Christian Wolffs Ontologie. Pichler,
in fact, rather than considering Wolff as an illustrious representative of the
dogmatic ontology condemned by Kant, sees in his Ontologia the foreshadow-
ing of ‘the science of objects in general’, in a decided rupture with Aristotelian
metaphysics:
Ontology is not, as in Aristotle’s Metaphysics, the science of being in gen-

eral (Wissenschaft vom Seienden überhaupt); it is more universal (allge-
meiner). The identification of ens and of ὄν, the translation of ens by
‘being’ <Sein> (“l’étant” < “das Seiende”>) is not pertinent. Ens signifies
more often in Wolff––and already in the scholastics––purely and simply a
thing or object [Ding oder Gegenstand]. Thus, ontology is, according to
the Wolffian definition: die Wissenschaft von den Gegenständen über-
haupt, ohne Rücksicht auf Sein oder Nichtsein––the science of objects in
general, independent of every consideration of being or non-being. This
translation of ens as Ding or Gegenstand is first testified to by the Deutsche
Metaphysik of Wolff, where ens is rendered quite simply as “Ding.” It is
only with the Critique of Pure Reason that the expression Gegenstand
takes the place of Ding.11
8 Husserliana XX/1, Logische Untersuchungen, Ergänzungsband, Erster Teil, Entwürfe zur

Umarbeitung der VI Untersuchung und zur Vorrede für die Neuauflage der Logischen
Untersuchungen, éd. Ullrich Melle (Dordrecht-Boston, 2002), p. 291.
9 Ibid.: “Now, in my Investigations, the idea of being resumed life again in a proper manner,
without resting on any historical supports, and in this way being exempt from the obscu-
rities and radical errors that affect ancient ontologies and which have justified the resis-
tance which has opposed them.”
10 Kritik der reinen Vernunft, A 246/B 303.
11 Hans Pichler, Über Christian Wolffs Ontologie (Leipzig, 1910), p. 3.
The same Pichler likewise emphasized (quite justly) the importance of another
occurrence of ontology—or better ontologia—in the first Critique (B 873),
which considers “the system of all the concepts and principles that correspond
to objects in general.”12 He could therefore comment with this passage, in
Meinongian terms:
One such consideration of objects, worthy of a theory of the object freed

from existence (die “daseinsfreie,” gegenstandstheoretische Betrachtung
der Gegenstände), comes about for ontology from its own limits; the sci-
ence of all objects in general could not be the science of being there
(Dasein), for all objects do not exist, and existence (Dasein) is not an
essential property of all objects in general.13
It is assuredly in this context that a determined Heidegger, in integrating Emil

Lask and Paul Natorp, begins critically approaching the problematic of ‘es gibt’
from 1919 on, and during the summer semester of 1923 decides to undertake a
course under the title ‘ontology’. For Heidegger, as indicated already by the title
of the course—’Ontology (hermeneutic of facticity)’—ontology provides
(thanks to phenomenology) a ‘problematic base more secure’ for ‘modern
ontology’, understood as ‘Gegenstandstheorie’ [object theory], and in particular
for its return to its true foundation, the hermeneutic of facticity, this term
being itself understood as the designation of the ‘character of being’ and ‘our
own’ being there.14 The hermeneutic of facticity is understood here as a pale-
onymy that Heidegger will name ‘Fundamentalontologie’ in Sein und Zeit (§ 4),
and in the thousand premises of the idea, it is precisely Fundamentalontologie
as ‘the analytic existential of being there’ that stands out as that which would
be fundamental to ontology.15
If one seeks to comprehend the scope and the consequences (direct or
indirect) that could result from Heidegger’s new elaboration of the question of
being—within the field of medieval philosophy as well as that of
Spätscholastik [late scholasticism]—thus rejecting by the same stroke the
12 Cf. Michel Fichant, “L’Amphibologie des concepts de la réflexion et la fin de l’ontologie,”

in Akten des X. internationalen Kant-Kongresses, Bd. I (Berlin, 2008), pp. 71 sq.
13 Pichler, op. cit., p. 4.
14 Ontologie (Hermeneutik der Faktizität), GA 63, (Klostermann, Francfort 1988), p. 7:
“Faktizität ist die Bezeichnung für den Seinscharakter ‘unseres’ ‘eigenen’ Daseins.”
15 Levinas’s study, “L’ontologie est elle fondamentale,” published in 1951 in the Revue de
Métaphysique et de Morale, has certainly contributed here to installing a complete coun-
ter-meaning (taken up again in Entre nous, Essais sur le penser-à-l’autre [Paris, 1991]).
76 Courtine
scholarly discussions in the prehistory that oppose ‘Neothomism’ and

‘Suarezianism’,16 one must apprehend the Heideggerian Seinsfrage [question
of being] in the true context of its elaboration: one must first clarify its
distinction from an agreement with the Husserlian division between formal
ontology and local ontology, and also from an agreement with the complete re-
acclimation of ontology in the sense of a theory of object, from beyond being
and non-being. The Heideggerian Seinsfrage—the point has been often
emphasized17—is primarily a question of the meaning of being, or better yet,
of the meaning of ‘to be’ through the comprehension of being (Seinsverständnis).
According to the absolutely central formulation of Sein und Zeit:
Far from restricting the concept of the meaning given to the signification
of the “content of judgment,” we understand it as the characteristic exis-
tential phenomenon in which the formal framework of what is
understandable and expressible in the explication becomes visible in
general.18
And this echoes forth, in a very rigorous manner, in the following elucidation
of a late seminar (the Thor):
What does the Seinsfrage mean now in Being and Time? In Being and
Time, the question is not: what is being? But: what is the “is”?––
Immediately, one falls into difficulties. In fact, if the “is” is a being! And if,
on the other hand, if it is not, will it be the simple empty fact of a judg-
ment?––It is necessary to leave behind this perplexity. From a purely
grammatical point of view to be is not only a verb, it is an auxiliary. But if
one moves beyond grammar, it is necessary to ask: to be, insofar as it is an
infinitive, is it not only an abstraction derived from “is”––or could one not
say “is,” if it comes before the to be, is open and manifest?––This is why
Being and Time explores the question through the optic of the sense of to
be.––Sense, Sinn, in Being and Time is a signification absolutely precise,
even if today it has become insufficient. What is meant by Sinn von Sein
16 One can return here to the works of Fr. Pedro Descoqs (s.j.) and his Institutiones metaphy-
sicae generalis (Paris, 1925), or again, in the other ‘camp’, to the works of Fr. Gallus Maria
Manser, most notably, Das Wesen des Thomismus (1932).
17 We take the liberty here to return to our study: “La question de l’être: sens de la question
et question du sens,” in Heidegger, l’énigme de l’être (“débats philosophiques”), coll. coor-
dinated by Jean-François Mattéi (Paris, 2004), pp. 71–103.
18 Sein und Zeit, 7th edition (Niemeyer Verlag, 1953), § 33, p. 156.
(sense of being)? This involves an entry into the domain of the project
(Entwurfsbereich) that opens out to the comprehension of being
(Seinsverständnis) […] Sinn is understood from the perspective of Entwurf
[plan] which is explained by Verstehen [understanding].19
It is certainly this type of problematization, and not many unoriginal and gen-
erally impertinent analyses, that Heidegger could dedicate to Suárez, allowing
him to take note of the impact of Suárez’s thought, and indeed the decided role
this thought could have played in the renewal of studies devoted to the second
scholasticism of these last fifty years. One still must specify that this role has
been, no doubt, less that of an incentive than a provocation. In fact, if it first
appeared that the attention Heidegger paid to Suárez corresponds to an
approach looking to reinsert him into ‘the great history of philosophy’ by lift-
ing him out of the closed world of seminaries and from the vain quarrels of the
School, and restoring his central role as a mediator between the medieval and
classical age, or even modern philosophy up to Kant, it must also be noted that
the places where this re-evaluation is made explicit no longer manifest the
slightest originality. For example, on the threshold of the great treatise of 1927,
or still in the summer course of the same year, he notes that:
Suárez is without doubt the thinker whose influence is exercised with full
force on modern philosophy. Descartes still depends directly on him and
almost constantly utilizes his terminology. It is Suárez who, for the first
time, systematizes medieval philosophy and in particular ontology.20
Here, Heidegger is not saying anything that we do not already know, and
which has been documented much more precisely in the Index scolastico-car-
tésien of Étienne Gilson in 1913, or M. Grabmann’s article, “Die Disputationes
Metaphysicae des Franz Suárez in ihrer methodischen Eigenart und
Fortwirkung,” first published in Innsbruck in 1917.21 Heidegger does, however,
19 GA 15, Seminare, ed. Curt Ochwadt (Klostermann, Frankfurt am Main, 1986), pp. 334–335.
20 GA 24, Die Grundprobleme der Phänomenologie, hrsg. F.-W. von Hermann (Frankfurt am
Main, 1975), p. 112. On this point, see also the two magisterial pages of Étienne Gilson,
L’être et l’essence, 2nd edition (Paris, 1962), pp. 144–145.
21 Taken up again in Mittelalterliches Geistesleben, Abhandlungen zur Geschichte der
Scholastik und Mystik (Munich, 1926), Bd. I, pp. 525–560. The significant study of Ernst
Conze, Der Begriff der Metaphysik bei Franciscus Suarez, appeared in Leipzig (Meiner
Verlag) in 1928. The same year, Karl Eschweiler provides in his Spanische Forschungen der
Görresgesellschaft (Erste Reihe, Bd. I, Gesammelte Aufsätze zur Kulturgeschichte
Spaniens) his pioneering study, “Die Philosophie der spanischen Spätscholastik auf den
78 Courtine
introduce a notable difference of appreciation, as seen in what immediately

follows the passage cited above. Heidegger, in fact, pursues this by expanding
considerably the purpose and thus also the scope of this Suarézian
mediation:
Formerly, the Middle Ages, which included Thomas and Duns Scotus,
only approached Antiquity through commentaries that followed step by
step the text studied. The fundamental book of Antiquity, the Metaphysics
of Aristotle, is not a book in one piece and does not consist of a system-
atic plan. This is what Suárez rightly saw in seeking to remedy what he
regarded as a defect and by giving to ontological problems for the first
time a systematic form, which in the future went on to determine up to
Hegel the division of metaphysics. From now on one will distinguish
metaphysica generalis, general ontology, and metaphysica specialis,
namely, cosmologia rationalis––the ontology of nature–– psychologia
rationalis––the ontology of the ––and psychologia rationalis––the ontol-
ogy of God. This manner of regrouping the principal philosophical disci-
plines continues up to the Critique of Pure Reason.22
One could emphasize once again all that in itself goes into this brief character-
ization, or conversely, one could highlight the inexactitudes or the unusual
formulations here (‘general ontology’, ‘ontology of God’).23 This is not what
interests us, though; in fact, the distinctive Heideggerian trait that stands out
in this analysis, and which is destined to have a rich development, is in fact his
recollection of the Suárezian move toward two major stages in the history of
philosophy: ‘quite simply’, the First Critique of Kant, or the Wissenschaft der
Logik. And still, if there is any consequence to Heidegger’s reprieve of motifs
that can likewise be considered scholastic, it is also because in the first para-
graphs of Sein und Zeit (to which we will return, and in which the project of a
deutschen Universitäten des 17. Jahrhunderts,” but nothing allows us to think that
Heidegger had any awareness of these last studies.
22 Ibid.
23 With regard to the history of the distinction between metaphysica generalis-metaphysica
specialis, we recall the pioneering article of Ernst Vollrath, “Die Gliederung der Metaphysik
in eine Metaphysica generalis und eine Metaphysica specialis,” in Zeitschrift für philoso-
phische Forschung, Bd. XVI, Heft 2, pp. 258–284. See also, by the same author, Die These der
Metaphysik, Zur Gestalt der Metaphysik bei Aristoteles, Kant und Hegel (Wuppertal-
Ratingen, 1969). But one will refer first of all to the capital work of Albert Zimmermann,
Ontologie oder Metaphysik ? Die Diskussion über den Gegenstand der Metaphysik im 13.
und 14. Jahrhundert, Texte und Untersuchungen, 2nd augmented edition (Leuven, 1998).
‘destruction of the history of ontology’ is elaborated), or even more in the

Kantbuch of 1929,24 Heidegger inquires into the possibility of a refoundation
(Grundlegung) of metaphysics. The refounding of metaphysics does not cor-
respond to some enterprise of recovery, but more to a shedding of light on the
difficulty, the Verlegenheit, of which it consists. Such is the true sense of
the title of the work Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik (1929). To expose the
problem that is itself metaphysics, from its Platonic-Aristotelian establish-
ment, under the heading of a science ‘researched’ and left unnamed, is in fact,
at least formally, to reopen the question that was largely documented and dis-
cussed by Suárez in his first Disputatio, on the subjectum and objectum meta-
physicae.25 The question of the subject, of the γένος ὑποκείμενον, and the
gnoselogical and noetic question of the ‘mode of knowledge’ and its method
are intrinsically connected, as Heidegger does not hesitate to recall:
The other essential motif of the formulation of the scholastic concept of

metaphysics concerns the mode of knowledge and the method of this. As
metaphysics has as its object being in general and the supreme being,
“the object who matters to all humans” (Kant); it is the science whose
dignity is the most eminent, the “queen of the sciences.”26
Certainly, the Heideggerian treatment is radically different from the rather

masterly attempt of the Suárezian ‘recapitulation’, insofar as the emphasis is
placed immediately on the ‘gründsätliche Verlegenheit’ [fundamental perplex-
ity], which is metaphysics itself. “The name of metaphysics manifests, there-
fore, a fundamental difficulty of philosophy itself,”27 a difficulty no longer faced
as such, but avoided or eluded on behalf of a ‘duplication’ left unclear in itself:
Post-Aristotelian western metaphysics––Heidegger continues––does not

owe its form to the heritage and development of a supposed Aristotelian
24 No doubt one can determine a Suárezian ‘moment’ in the work of Heidegger: it coincides
with the the unending enterprise of Sein und Zeit and continues up to 1929–1930 (Die
Grundbegriffe der Metaphysik). One finds in the whole Heideggerian corpus about forty
references to Suárez, but the most significant references appear in volumes 23, 24, and
29–30 of the Gesamtausgabe (GA 23, pp. 4, 5, 69, 92, 109, 145, 209, 230; GA 24, pp. 81, 111–116,
124, 126, 132, 135–139, 144, 168, 174, 210, 328; GA 29–30, pp. 77–81).
25 Cf. Jean-François Courtine, Suárez et le système de la métaphysique (Paris, 1990), in par-
ticular pp. 195 sq.
26 Kant und das Problem der Metaphysik, GA 3, hrsg. F.-W. von Herrmann (Frankfurt am
Main, 1991), p. 9.
27 Ibid., p. 8.
80 Courtine
system but to a failure to appreciate the uncertain and ambiguous state

(Nichtverstehen der Fragwürdigkeit und Offenheit) in which Plato and
Aristotle left the main problems.28
One indeed sees by this, without Heidegger explicitly pronouncing its name, in
what respect the Disputationes metaphysicae, with its aim of systematization
and recapitulation,29 could constitute a truly epochal stage in its tradition,
which is often forgotten and obscured. Hence, to re-establish the foundation of
metaphysics—in the same sense as the Grundlegung [laying the founda-
tion]—forces the undoing of this recovery, tied not only to the systemization
but also to the Christianization of the inaugural enterprise, and therefore also
to the removal of the ambiguity in which the inherited problems remain: the
difficulty, the perplexity, or the doubt (Verlegenheit) that belongs intrinsically
to the Platonic-Aristotelian enterprise ‘finds its source’ in the obscurity that
envelops the essence of the problems and the perceptions that are raised in
this treatise, i.e., τὰ μετὰ φυσικά (and here, too, Heidegger from 1929 introduces
implicitly what he will name several years later the ‘onto-theo-logical constitu-
tion of metaphysics’). “For as much as Aristotle explains his view on this sub-
ject, one sees a curious duplication (merkwürdige Doppelung) appear in the
determination of the first philosophy.”30 This duplication is characteristic of a
πρώτη φιλοσοφία [first philosophy] that appears as much as “the knowledge of
being as being (ὄν ᾗ ὄν),” as “the knowledge of the most eminent realm of being
(τιμιώτατον γένος), from which is determined being as a whole (καθόλου).”
Heidegger’s refusal of every attempt of conciliation that calls for a develop-
ment and evolution of Aristotelian doctrine, a refusal legible even in his
Â�vocabulary,31 leads to further digging into the duplication, deepening the
28 Ibid.
29 Cf. É. Gilson, L’être et l’essence, op. cit., p. 148: “Suárez posses a knowledge of medieval
philosophy that a specialist of our days could not help but envy.” Cf. also from the same
author, Being and some philosophers, 2nd edition (Toronto, 1952), p. 99.
30 Ibid.
31 “Diese doppelte Charakteristik der πρώτη φιλοσοφία enthält weder zwei grundverschie-
dene, voneinander unabhängige Gedankengänge, noch darf die eine zugunsten der
anderen abgeschwächt bzw. ausgemerzt werden, noch läßt sich gar die scheinbare
Zwiespältigkeit vorschnell zu einer Einheit versöhnen,” kpm, op. cit., pp. 7 sq. The formu-
lations here return not so much to scholastic phrasings but to the contemporary debates
of Natorp and W. Jaeger. On the emergence of the motif of the ‘collapse’ and the onto-
theological ‘constitution’ of metaphysics, we take the liberty to refer again to our
work: Inventio analogiae, Métaphysique et onthéologie (Paris, 2005), in particular chapters
I and II.
Zwiespältigkeit [schism]. It also first names what Heidegger, since the summer
course of 1927, calls the ‘ontological difference’, in the move toward a joint rela-
tion more original and more inwardly explored of being and time. What the
first two paragraphs of the Kantbuch expressly formulate when taking a posi-
tion on the ‘traditional concept of metaphysics’ was already present in Sein
und Zeit: not only in virtue of the first thesis according to which “the central
problem of all ontology is rooted in the phenomena of time correctly grasped
and explained,”32 but also, and above all, through the idea of an uprooted Greek
ontology, which, as a consequence, must begin by finding again the ‘soil’ that
during the Middle Ages became a hardened doctrine (diese entwurzelte
griechische Ontologie wird im Mittelalter zum festen Lehrbestand). Thus, one
understands why the Disputationes metaphysicae of Suárez, mentioned a few
lines below,33 could figure as a major obstacle for an effort to restore the foun-
dation of metaphysics; it is a matter of truly taking into account the
Zwiespältigkeit [the schism], or of guarding against all attempts to simplify
conveniently the duplication by permanently establishing an artificial unity,
which is the same one that tradition will name, after Thomas Aquinas, analo-
gia entis, or the analogical unity of the concept of being.34
Beyond the formal references that appear in a few of Heidegger’s courses
published later on, in order to understand the impact of his thought on
Suárezian studies,35 one must emphasize the stake of the first phrase of his
32 Sein und Zeit, p. 18 (we cite the pagination unchanged from the 7th edition, 1963): “…daß
im rechtgesehenen und rechtexplizierten Phänomen der Zeit die zentrale Problematik
aller Ontologie verwurzelt ist.”
33 Ibid., p. 22.
34 Cf. J.-F. Courtine, Inventio analogiae, pp. 291–357.
35 We mention here, without pretending to be exhaustive, the following works: Hans
Seigfried, Wahrheit und Metaphysik bei Suárez (Bonn, 1967); John P. Doyle, “Suarezian and
Thomistic Metaphysics before the Judgment of Heidegger” (1972), reprinted in the invalu-
able collection, J.P. Doyle, Collected Studies on Francisco Suárez, s.j. (1548–1617), ed. Victor
M. Salas (Leuven, 2010), pp. 89–107; John D. Caputo, Heidegger and Aquinas: An Essay
on Overcoming Metaphysics (ny, NY, 1982); Rolf Schönberger, Die Transformation des
Â�klassischen Seinsverständnisses, Studien zur Vorgeschichte des neuzeitlichen Seinsbegriffs
im Mittelalter (Berlin, 1986); Ludger Honnefelder, Scientia transcendens, Die formale
Bestimmung der Seiendheit und Realität in der Metaphysik des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit
(Duns Scotus—Suarez—Wolff—Kant—Peirce); or again, by the same author, “Der zweite
Anfang der Metaphysik. Voraussetzungen, Ansätze und Folgen der Wiederbegründung
der Metaphysik im 13./14. Jahrhundert,” in Philosophie im Mittelalter, Entwicklungslinien
und Paradigmen, ed. Jan. P. Beckmann, Ludger Honnefelder, Gangolf Schrimpf and Georg
Wieland (Hamburg, 1987), pp. 165–186. We note, finally, the following, in order to consider
recent contributions that respond directly to the Heidegerian ‘provocations’: Olivier
82 Courtine
work of 1927, which came forth like a lightening bolt: “The question of being
today has fallen into oblivion […].” What is meant by ‘fallen into oblivion’? It
appeared so quickly through a sort of ‘fall’, and what was at stake was not sim-
ply a negligence or lack of attention, as when I realize I forgot something like
my umbrella at the dressing table! The Vergessenheit [forgetfulness] in ques-
tion—naturally still unspecified in this initial phrase of the first paragraph of
the ‘treatise’ (Abhandlung)—will be at the centre of Heidegger’s thought, as
the current already visible in Sein und Zeit.36 The concern, therefore, in the
work of 1927 was to revive the γιγαντομαχία περὶ τῆς οὐσίας. The question of
being, which inspired Plato and Aristotle, dies out with them, or at least, as
Heidegger contends, it dies as an ‘explicit theme of true research!’ If this ques-
tion was apparently sustained, it was through ‘deviations and alterations’
(Verschiebungen, ‘Übermalungen’):
This uprooted Greek ontology became fixed in the teaching of the Middle
Ages. Its system is altogether different than a piece of a structure provi-
dentially seized. Within the bounds of a dogmatic assumption of the fun-
damental Greek conceptions of being lies much untapped work to be
done within this system. In the scholastic mold, Greek ontology essen-
tially is by way of the Disputations of Suárez for metaphysics and the
transcendental philosophy of modern times is by way of and most decid-
edly in the foundations and goals of Hegel’s Logik.37
Boulnois, “Heidegger, l’ontothéologie et les structures médiévales de la métaphysique,” in

Quaestio 1, Heidegger e i medievali (Turnhout, 2001), pp. 379–406; Costantino Esposito,
“Heidegger, Suárez e la storia dell’ontologia,” ibid., pp. 407–430; Pasquale Porro, “Heidegger,
la filosofia medievale, la medievistica contemporanea,” ibid., pp. 431–461. We note in the
same number the invaluable bibliography, “Heidegger e i medievali. Una bibliografia,”
assembled by Annalisa Caputo and Costantino Esposito. This could be completed today
by the following studies: Marco Forlivesi, “Impure Ontology. The Nature of Metaphysics
and Its Object in Francisco Suárez’s Texts,” in Quaestio 5 (Turnhout, 2005), pp. 559–586;
Costantino Esposito, “Le ‘Disputationes Metaphysicae’ nella critica contemporanea,” in
Francisco Suárez, Disputationi metafisiche, ed. C. Esposito (Bompiani, 2007), pp. 747–853;
finally, we note the collection edited by Marco Sgarbi, Francisco Suárez and his Legacy:
The Impact of Suárezian Metaphysics and Epistemology on Modern Philosophy (Milan,
2010).
36 Cf. Sein und Zeit, § 44.
37 Sein und Zeit, § 6: “Die Aufgabe einer Destruktion der Geschichte der Ontologie,” p. 22
(Diese entwurzelte griechische Ontologie wird im Mittelalter zum festen Lehrbestand.
Ihre Systematik ist alles andere denn eine Zusammenfügung überkommenden Stücke
zu einem Bau. Innerhalb der Grenzen einer dogmatischen Übernahme der griechischen
Greek ontology deprived of its ‘roots’—‘outside its soil’ (Bodenlosigkeit)—

came, therefore, to the Middle Ages as a body of fixed and consistent doctrine
(fester Lehrbestand), by means of the reception of Latin Aristotelianism (via
Avicenna and then Averroes), through vague successions of translation and
then through the great commentaries: Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas, or
Duns Scotus, to cite only the great ones.38 The uprooting and the obsessing
that accompanies it are surely due, in the eyes of Heidegger, to the inscription
of this gigantomachia [titanic struggle] into the Latin and Christian horizon
(the impasse, moreover, having been established by the Syriac and Arab medi-
ation), even if—and the point is all but secondary—the thinker from Freiburg
furthermore stresses the affinity at least of Christianity to this Platonic-
Aristotelian institution of metaphysics.39 Without doubt, in this regard one
can hear in Heidegger the echo of a powerful Nietzschean motif.
Carrying therefore his attention as an enterprise of deconstruction, or as the
construction of a history of ontology—in view of emphasizing the landslides,
replacements, and recoveries (Verschiebungen, Übermalungen) that character-
ize this history linked to the ‘concept of being’40—it is entirely natural in a
sense that Heidegger should be guided by the Suarézian systematization, while
at the same time he pretends to discuss, for example, Thomistic theses. This
strategy is particularly striking in the course of 1927, where he examines what
he names nothing other than ‘the thesis of medieval ontology’ in order to take
hold of and retrace it to its Aristotelian origin.
What does this thesis consist of? In what context does it appear? The thesis
pertains to the ontological constitution of being that is divided between
the quiddity (essence), or in Heidegger’s terminology ‘Wassein’, and the exis-
tentia, apprehended here as Vorhandenheit, the latter entailing right away a
Grundauffassungen des Seins liegt in dieser Systematik noch viel ungehobene weiterÂ�
führende Arbeit. In der scholastischen Prägung geht die griechische Ontologie im wes-
entlichen auf dem Wege über die Disputationes metaphysicae des Suarez in die
‘Metaphysik’ und Transzendentalphilosophie der Neuzeit über und bestimmt noch die
Fundamente und Ziele der ‘Logik’ Hegels).
38 One finds the same analysis in F.-W. von Herrmann, ed., Grundprobleme der PhänomeÂ�
nologie, GA 24 (Frankfurt, 1975), p. 112.
39 Cf. Heidegger, Der Satz vom Grund, GA 10, ed. Petra Jaeger (Frankfurt, 1997), pp. 107–108.
40 It is very significant that, from paragraph one of Sein und Zeit, which puts in focus several
‘prejudices’ (Vorurteile) that from the start bar the way to the renewed question in the
quest for the ‘meaning of being’, Heidegger translates again, without explanation, the
Aristolelian formula τὸ ὄν ἐστι καθόλου μάλιστα πάντων by the words “Das ‘Sein’ ist der
‘allgemeinste’ Begriff,” as if the passage of Sein, esse to conceptus entis could itself go into
the tradition that he means to critique.
84 Courtine
depreciative value: it is given as subsisting present, there before, offering a

purely theoretical consideration.
What is the context? It is the phenomenological discussion of “some tradi-
tional theses on being.”41 Phenomenology has in fact been determined as the
‘science of being’, where being is presented as ‘the unique and true theme of
philosophy’. We recall that the course of the summer semester of 1927 directly
followed two preceding ‘Lessons’ devoted to The Fundamental Concepts of
Ancient Philosophy (GA 22) and The History of Philosophy from Thomas Aquinas
to Kant (GA 23), respectively. The larger context of the Heideggerian mediation
is even more apparent in the Natorpbericht of 1922,42 whose program was that
of a ‘concrete interpretation of Aristotelian philosophy’, which seeks to ques-
tion ‘the meaning and the destiny of Western logic and ontology’. No doubt the
winter course of 1926–1927, The History of Philosophy from Thomas Aquinas to
Kant, while it goes back to Suárez eight times (GA 23, pp. 4, 5, 69, 92, 109, 145,
209, 230), still does not assign to him any particular position. The route assumed
by this history passes over the aforesaid late scholasticism and, after having
treated Thomas Aquinas in the first section, considers Descartes, then Spinoza,
Leibniz, and finally Wolff and his school. However, one remarkable passage
from this course that has significance for the question we are considering
here is the development devoted to the ‘Gott-losigkeit der Philosophie’ [the
Godlessness of philosophy], a thematic already present in the Natorp report.
After having indicated that philosophy is, as such, fundamentally ‘atheist’,
Heidegger explains:
Atheist, not in the sense of some theory, such as materialism. Every phi-
losophy whatsoever understands itself in terms of what it should neces-
sarily know––and this precisely when it still has some “premonition” of
God––such that the withdrawal by which it redirects life back to itself is,
in religious terms, a way of declaring itself against God. But only by this
does it remain loyal before God, namely to the height of the only possibil-
ity toward which it inclines; atheist, therefore, signifies this: deliv-
ered from every preoccupation and temptation of simply speaking
religiously. […].43
41 One will find this motif again much later in Kants These über das Sein, in Wegmarken,
GA 9, pp. 445 sq.
42 Martin Heidegger, Phänomenologische Interpretationen zu Aristoteles, Ausarbeitung für
die Marburger und die Göttinger Philosophische Fakultät (1922), ed. Günther Neumann and
Philipp Reclam (Stuttgart, 2003).
43 GA 62, p. 363.
In the course of 1926–1927, Heidegger returns to this Gott-losigkeit proper to

the philosopher:
Strictly speaking, nothing can be established concerning the eternity of

God because God can never be an object of philosophy. Everything that is
discovered by the aid of the concept of God is an idol, which, philosophi-
cally, can only have this one meaning: to render visible what is the idea of
the summum ens and the principal idea of being in general […]. If there is
a God, there is nothing left to discover of him by philosophy. He is not
susceptible to being disclosed except insofar as he reveals himself. To give
ear to revelation is something for which philosophy lacks any type of
organ. Philosophy is godless; this does not mean there is no God, but it
cannot any more affirm that there is a God.
This methodological atheism constitutes without doubt an essential element

in the Heideggerian system and its critical and radical reading of the history of
metaphysics: such an atheism retains the possibility of a discourse about God
and a relation to the divine, and, in the case of Christianity, of the revelation
transmitted by Scripture—something naturally closer to the Lutheran deter-
mination of theologia as grammatica sacrae scripturae than the view of theol-
ogy as science elaborated in the thirteenth century. One can see in the claim of
this Gott-losigkeit the principle of emphasising metaphysics as ontology, and on
the other hand, of the critical updating of a constitutive structure of metaphys-
ics in its Platonic-Aristotelian institution, namely, the onto-theo-logy, or -logic.
In the summer course of 1927, which I follow here from the first series guide,
Heidegger specifies his interrogation, in reference to Aristotle, Metaphysics Z 1,
the celebrated final section on the continuously researched question, which
always leaves us in difficulty and puzzlement:
To suppose that philosophy is the science of being, then the first and ultimate
question, the fundamental question of philosophy, is the following: what is
meant by being? Proceeding from this, is something like being in general
intelligible? How is the comprehension of being in general possible?
Undoubtably, this involves a very heavy presupposition with respect to philoso-

phy in its history, which does not boil down to this fundamental question,
this being rather fixed within certain boundaries, if not ‘localized’.44 One
44 I refer immediately here to the luminous pages of Alain de Libera in “La philosophie
médiévale,” in Que sais-je?, 2nd edition (Paris, 1992), pp. 69 sq.
86 Courtine
understands also why, from this supposition, Heidegger would choose a privi-
leged sequence: Scotus, Thomas, Suárez, and Kant. In this path, in support of
considerations central to our purpose, Heidegger, in his course of 1929–1930
dedicated to the fundamental concepts of metaphysics,45 examines in succes-
sion four ontological theses: (1) the Kantian thesis, elaborated in the frame-
work of a critique of the ontological argument, namely, that being is not a real
predicate, i.e., one that would concern real content, the ‘realitias’ that it has
affirmed46; (2) the thesis of medieval ontology; (3) the thesis of modern ontol-
ogy, which essentially means here Cartesian ontology, according to which “the
fundamental modalities of being are the res extensa and the res cogitans;” and
finally, (4) the thesis of logic (illustrated here by Hobbes), according to which
every being is left to reach across the ‘is’, i.e., being in the sense of a synthesis of
judgment. He considers the four different theses thoroughly, but the ‘source
system’ to the meaning that belongs to all four for the same general regimen of
questioning—without ever arriving at the Fundamentalfrage—is that of the
‘meaning of being in general’. One will not see a simple universalist recovery of
this most general question, which characterized Sein und Zeit from the first
paragraph. In fact, if the question of being should be ‘repeated’ or ‘thrown
back’ just the same as the gigantomachia, this is precisely because it has always
been struck by three presumptions: (1) being is ‘the most general’ concept, fol-
lowing a double reference to Aristotle (Metaph. 3.4.1001a21) and Thomas
Aquinas (st I–II, q. 94, a. 2: Illud quod primo cadit sub apprehensione est ens,
cujus intellectus includitur in omnibus, quaecumque quis apprehendit.), a thesis
that, in a sense, Heidegger takes hold of to delineate when he affirms, for his
part, that the comprehension of being (the Seinsverständnis) belongs to being
as a denomination of a fundamental trait (the ‘existentials’) or that compre-
hending is at first accorded to being, to which it corresponds (Gehörigkeit,
Zusammengehörigkeit); (2) the concept of being is indefinable; (3) the concept
of being is an ‘evident’ concept, taken at first as understandable in itself (selb-
stverständlich). One will note that when Heidegger formulates, very briefly,
these three presumptions in this introductory paragraph, he himself resolutely
introduces the concept of being (conceptus entis), the same as for Aristotle and
Thomas Aquinas.
45 I take the liberty of referring to my study, “Heidegger et Thomas d’Aquin,” in Quaestio 1, op.
cit., pp. 213–233.
46 One understands why such a thesis could be reconciled with the Thomisitc doctrine
(De ente et essentia) of the accidentality being had with respect to the reality of essence.
Cf. Pierre Aubenque, “La thèse de Kant sur l’être et ses origines aristotéliciennes,” in
Problèmes aristotéliciens (Paris, 2009), pp. 351–372.
In fact, the critical discussion of the four theses of metaphysics seeks to

show that these are never envisaged as “Fundamentalfrage of the whole sci-
ence of being—the question of the meaning of being in general.” What
Heidegger here names Fundamentalfrage will be thematized a little later (in
1935, in the Einführung in die Metaphysik [Introduction to Metaphysics]) under
the title Grundfrage [foundational question], distinguished from Leitfrage
[leading question]. One sees clearly how this ‘fundamental question’ supports
itself—this having been done in order to go beyond the question of Brentano
in his dissertation of 1862, which shows multiple meanings of being according
to Aristotle—and how this question also does not cease to cut across the prob-
lematic of the analogia entis.47
It is with regard to the discussion of the second thesis (that of medieval
ontology)—to which Heidegger gives the title ‘the articulation of being’
(Gliederung des Seins) in his account of the ‘ontological difference’48—that he
proposes the more agile and developed reading of the Disputatio XXX: De
essentia entis finiti ut tale est, et de illius esse, eorumque distinctione. It is not a
question here of commenting in detail on the long commentary that Heidegger
dedicates to the Suárezian analysis of the distinction (real, modal, or formal
reason) between essence and existence.49 We will confine ourselves to show-
ing some typical traits of the commentary. A first, highly significant element
deserves to be revealed: the analysis of the critical discussion of sections one to
six of this Disputatio are framed in one part by the examination of the Kantian
thesis that ‘being is not a real predicate’, and in another part by a return to
Aristotle, or Greek philosophy in general, intended to show what is the imprint
of the paradigm of Herstellung in the elaboration of fundamental ontological
concepts (μορφή, εἶδος, τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι, ὕλη, ἔργον, ἐνέργεια…).
In the pages expressly devoted to the question of the ‘real’ distinction of
essence and existence, one can again bring forth several notable traits: while
Heidegger announces that he will examine this central question in Thomas
Aquinas, Duns Scotus, and Suárez, it is very clearly the Suárezian exposition
that he takes as the true leading thread. There are several significant indica-
tions of this: while Heidegger quite justly notes that this distinction is pro-
posed by Aquinas in De ente et essentia (p. 117), no reference is made to
this treatise, and the entire construction of the problematic of the aforesaid
47 Cf. J.-F. Courtine, “La critique heideggérienne de l’analogia entis,” in Les catégories de l’être,
Études de philosophie ancienne et médiévale (Paris, 2003), pp. 213–240.
48 Die Grundprobleme der Phänomenologie, GA 24, pp. 109–110.
49 To highlight for confronation, one will refer to the very rich chapter, “Essence and
Existence,” in Being and Some philosophers, pp. 74–107, and in particular pp. 96–107.
88 Courtine
distinctio realis is borrowed from the recollection of the principal distinction

between the formal concept and the objective concept, between being taken
as a verb and being taken as a noun (ens participaliter sumptum, ens nominali-
ter sumptum), as well as from the equivalence between being taken nominally
(ens: id quod sit habens essentiam realem) and as a res. One will admit that this
‘focusing’, entirely controlled in other respects by the idea of the conceptus
entis (117–124), is assuredly not the most adequate for doing justice to the
Thomistic doctrine that never envisages essentia and existentia as two ‘res’, and
which quite soon opposes essence and existence taken as actus essendi. One
will likewise notice that in several direct references to Thomas Aquinas (four in
all),50 Heidegger rewrites esse as existere, for example in Quaestiones
Quodlibetales, XII, q. 5, a. 5: “Accidens dicitur large omne quod non est pars
essentiae; et sic est esse [sc. existere] in rebus creatis.” All this happens here as if
Heidegger were reconstructing the Thomisitc reflection to the standard of the
problematization of Giles of Rome or of Capreolus, cited a little farther down.51
In the same way, the account of the Scotist thesis is reduced to its most simple
expression from a single reference, taken from the Reportata Parisiensia,52
though it is true to say that it is from the Suárezian account (XXXI, 2, 11) that
the Scotist position is formulated:
Secunda sententia est, esse creatum distingui quidem ex natura rei, seu
(ut alii loquuntur) formaliter, ab essentia cujus est esse, et non esse pro-
priam entitatem omnino realiter distinctam ab entitate essentiae, sed
modum ejus).
Heidegger, who in other places is often attentive to the tendency of termino-

logical slips and/or translations,53 here shows no concern about the presup-
positions and stakes of the Suárezian reformulation, whether it concerns
Thomas, Duns Scotus, or Henry of Ghent. This is particularly the case with the
50 Quaestiones Quodlibetales II, q. 2, a. 3 and XII, q. 5, a. 5; st I, q. 3, a. 5, and finally De veritate,

q. 27, a. 1.
51 In Sent., II, dist. 3, q. 1, a. 1: “Esse nihil aliud quem quaedam actualitas impressa omnibus
entibus ab ipso Deo vel a primo ente. Nulla enim essentia creaturae est tantae actualitatis,
quod possit actu existere, nisi ei imprimatur actualitas quaedam a primo ente.” Capreolus,
In Sent. I, dist. 8, q. 1, a. 1 (quinta conclusio): “Esse actualis existentiae non est res proprie
loquendo […] non est proprie ens, secundum quod ens significat actum essendi, cum non
sit quod existit. […] Dicitur tamen <existentiae> entis, vel rei.”
52 Reportata Parisiensia I, dist. 45, q. 2, schol. 1.
53 He will do this again at the end of this part of the course, which traces the ‘medieval the-
sis’ to its Aristotelian foundation.
distinction esse essentiae, esse existere, or with the concepts esse in actu exer-
cito, actualis existentiam. All this happens, then, as if the ‘medieval thesis of
ontology’ was entirely reconstructed by the terminology of Cajetan and Suárez,
completely the same as in the Habilitation thesis, where the Scotist doctrine
was reread in light of Rickert and Emil Lask. It continues that the reading pro-
posed here of the Suárezian distinction, as distinctio rationis, at once removed
from agreement with the Scotist distinctio formalis and “corresponding deep
down with it,”54 is particularly attentive to the argumentation of the Doctor
eximius and gives it the most agreeable references. Heidegger thus omits the
beginning of the following paragraph, which is evidently not without conse-
quence for the context of the problematization:
Haec opinio tertia sic explicanda est, ut comparatio fit inter actualem
existentiam, quam vocant esse in actu exercito, et actualem essentiam
existentem...
Nevertheless, he follows faithfully with:
Essentia et existentia non distinguuntur in re ipsa [Heidegger empha-

sizes], licet essentia, abstracte et praecise concepta, ut est in potentia,
distinguatur ab existentia actuali, tanquam non ens ab ente. Et hanc sen-
tentiam sic explicatam existimo esse omnino veram. Ejusque fundamen-
tum breviter est, quia non potest res aliqua intrinsece ac formaliter
constitui in ratione entis realis et actualis, per aliud distinctum ab ipsa,
quia, hoc ipso quod distinguitur unum ab alio, tanquam ens ab ente,
utrumque habet quod sit ens, ut condistinctum ab alio, et consequenter
non per illud formaliter et intrinsece.
Thanks to this chapter’s double framework (Kant and Aristotle), one of the
indisputable interests of these paragraphs directly and faithfully refers to the
arguments of Suárez, by which Heidegger himself defines his position by
agreement with Thomas and his commentators on the one side, and with Duns
Scotus and the Scotists on the other, holding also to the restoration of Suárezian
concepts in the Kantian and phenomenological lexicon (Sachheit, Sachgehalt,
Vorhandenheit, Wirklichkeit, Herstellung).
This course of 1927, known only from a late publication in the framework of
the Gesamtausgabe in 1975, almost assumes the figure of a hapax [once-
used term] in the Heideggerian corpus, and from this it is not clear whether a
54 GA 24, p. 132.
90 Courtine
relative pertinence is reflected by this contribution’s title: “Heidegger-Suárez

and contemporary metaphysics.” By way of conclusion, let us reiterate that the
eminent role that has been played over the last fifty years by the thinker of
Freiburg—contributing to the study of the history of metaphysics, to the his-
tory of ontology, and to the meanings of being or the vocabulary of being—is
twofold: on the one hand (without doubt the most important) he holds an
important role in the recovery of the gigantomachia peri tès ousias, the project
of a refoundation and then a passing beyond metaphysics—considered on a
grand scale and in all its history, in a rupture determined as well by the gnoseo-
logical and epistemological orientation of philosophy, whether in the case of
Neo-Kantianism or the Vienna Circle, whether by debates properly scholastic,
confessional, or those of opposing doctrinal traditions of the different religious
orders. On the other hand, he is also important, above all, due to his extraordi-
nary effort of provocation, represented by the thesis of the forgetting of being,
of the onto-theo-logical constitution of metaphysics, or of ontological differ-
ence. It is assuredly in the domain of medieval philosophy, and quite beyond
Thomism, that he sets himself to the task of testing the power and the endur-
ance of this frame of reading, whose harm is clearly assumed. The question
here does not concern knowing whether different responses to these ‘provoca-
tions’ apply justly or not to the most secret Heideggerian purpose. What does,
however, seem significantly incontestable is that a large part of the work of
Heidegger was, in all events, nourished by research and discussions on a num-
ber of important historians of medieval philosophy, late scholastic in particu-
lar, which had never been done previously by any great thinker, including
Hegel.
(English translation by Robert Fastiggi)

chapter 4
Suárez on the Subject of Metaphysics

Rolf Darge
1 Introduction
In order to attain a deep understanding of both the inner cohesion of the

Disputationes metaphyicae and its position within the history of metaphysics,
it is of crucial importance to determine what constitutes the common subject
with which these investigations are concerned. Operating in the background
here is the Aristotelian doctrine of ‘science’, to which Suárez accords system-
atic importance in his metaphysical inquiry.1 ‘Subject’ here does not mean—as
in the modern linguistic usage—the bearer of knowledge, the cognizant
subject, but a fundamental part of what the cognizant subject, by its knowl-
edge, is directed to. That which is actually known, according to Suárez, is a
proposition—logically concluded from premises, which are recognized as
being true—in which a property (predicate) is necessarily attributed to a sub-
ject.2 In this context, the terms ‘subject’ and ‘property’ have, aside from their
grammatical and logical signification, an ontological sense. The properties are
considered ontological attributes, which necessarily inhere in the subject inso-
far as the substance is a substrate of an essential form—thus representative of
a genus—so that these attributes may be inferred from its essential structure
as its immediate and necessary consequences.3 Accordingly, a unitary science
deals with objects of one genus; the subject as ‘genus-subiectum’ is the primary
subject matter of a science that underlies all its propositions,4 which founds its
unity and its distinction from other sciences. For this reason, it must primarily
1 Francisco Suárez, dm, Opera Omnia vols. 25 and 26, ed. Ludovicus Vivès (Paris 1856–1861); dm
1.Prol. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 2): “…primum omnium inquirendum nobis est huius doctrinae
objectum, seu subjectum.”
2 See Aristotle, Analytica Posteriora 1.7.75a 39-b1, ed. William D. Ross (Oxford, 1964); ibid.,
1.10.76b11-16, and Metaphysics 3.2.997a 19–21, ed. William D. Ross (Oxford, 1958).
3 dm 1.1.28 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11): “…illud est subiectum scientiae, de quo proprietates com-
muniore in scientia immediate et per se demonstrantur.”
4 Aristotle, Analytica Posteriora, 1.2.87a38. As for the origin of the term ‘genus subiectum’, see
Analytica Posteriora 1.7.75a42: “tò génos tò hypokeímenon;” lat.: “genus subiectum”: Aristoteles
latinus, IV, 1–4, Analytica Posteriora, recensio Guillelmi de Moerbeka, eds. Laurentius Minio-
Paluello and Bernardus G. Dod (Paris, 1968), p. 293, 75b1; also Analytica Posteriora 1.9.76a12.

92 Darge
be determined, in the course of the systematic foundation of a science, to

which subject or adequate object of this science it refers. Suárez, therefore, in
the first disputation, which is “about the nature of the First Philosophy or
metaphysics” at first, seeks to ascertain “what the (adequate) object of meta-
physics is.”5
In its determination, Suárez applies the commonly used formula “being
insofar as it is being,”6 and thus adopts the traditional ontological concept of
metaphysics, which scholastic authors contrast with the theological concept
of metaphysics. This theological understanding was inherited from Greek
Antiquity and prevailed in the Latin west until the twelfth century.7 Both con-
ceptions are derived from Aristotle’s Metaphysics. In the sixth book, Aristotle
calls the First Philosophy ‘Theology’, and assigns the divine as its subject.8
According to the fourth book, however, the First Philosophy is considered a
universal science concerning being as being.9 In the course of the Aristotelian-
reception, this ‘ontological’ explanation was preferentially adopted at the
newly established universities in the thirteenth century, particularly at the
University of Paris. Within a university setting, the possibility and need for
Christian revelation, as well as a theology founded thereupon, needed to be
justified, but within an Aristotelian framework of sciences a place also had to
be created where Christian theology could be established. This place, however,
could not be ensured by means of that very discipline that had itself yet to be
legitimized. Rather, it could only be secured in such a way that First
Philosophy—a well-established theory of the highest causes by its own philo-
sophical means—breaks away from its traditional claim of being the exclusive
science of the Divine. In the writings of Aristotle and of his Arabic commenta-
tor, Avicenna, the Latin authors found the philosophical and methodological
5 dm 1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 1): “De natura primae philosophiae seu metaphysicae;” dm 1.1 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 2): “Quod sit metaphysice obiectum.”
6 dm 1.3.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 22): “…definiri potest metaphysicam esse scientiam, quae ens in
quantum ens […] contemplatur;” dm 1.5.38 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 48): “…loquendo igitur de
subiecto huius scientiae secundum abstractissimam rationem eius […] ut est ens in quantum
ens.” dm 1.1.26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11): “Dicendum est […] ens in quantum ens reale esse obi-
ectum adaequatum huius scientiae.”
7 See dm 1.1.26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11). For the medieval discussion on the subject of metaphys-
ics, see Albert Zimmermann, Ontologie oder Metaphysik? Die Diskussion über den Gegenstand
der Metaphysik im 13. und 14. Jahrhundert. Texte und Untersuchungen (1965; 2nd rev. edn.
Leuven, 1998); Ludger Honnefelder, “Der zweite Anfang der Metaphysik,” in Philosophie im
Mittelalter, eds. Jan Beckmann et al. (Hamburg, 1987), pp. 165–86.
8 Aristotle, Metaphysics, 6.1.1026a 15–32.
9 Ibid., 4.1.1003a 20–26.
Suárez On The Subject Of Metaphysics 93
means necessary for such a redefinition of the universe of metaphysical dis-

course. Avicenna strictly applied the doctrine of the Posterior Analytics to the
Aristotelian writings on the First Philosophy, and came to the conclusion that
not the Divine, but only—as Aristotle declares in the fourth book of the
Metaphysics—being as being can be the subject of this science. Following
Avicenna’s approach, many Medieval Latin authors transformed the First
Philosophy into the universal science of being as such. However, they explain
the meaning of ‘being as being’ in a different way, thereby arriving at different
ontological conceptions of metaphysics. During the course of the late medi-
eval formation of philosophical schools (Thomistic, Scotist, and Ockhamist),
designs of a theory concerning being as being increasingly competed with and
set boundaries against each other.10 Yet, despite the differences in their onto-
logical approaches, they share the common traditional view that First
Philosophy is a ‘real science’ (scientia realis), referring to things (res) that actu-
ally exist, or can exist, independently from our mind.11 First philosophy thus
differs from logic, which, as scientia rationalis, also has a universal extension,
but the proper object of logic does not exist independently from our mind.
There is debate about whether Suárez keeps to this traditional doctrine of
real being. Many scholars hold that, for Suárez, the subject of metaphysics is
not ‘real’ but ‘objective being’, in the sense of an inner-mental-objective struc-
ture. Accordingly, First Philosophy is subjected to a rationalization and subjec-
tivication, which bridges the gap between the logical and the ontological
approaches. Against this view, following a closer examination of the ontologi-
cal status that Suárez assigns to the so-called ‘objective concept of being’ (con-
ceptus objectivus entis), Jorge Gracia has argued in favour of a ‘realistic’
conception of metaphysics in Suárez.12 The ‘onto-logical’ interpretation of
Suárezian metaphysical thought, however, has also continued without further
perturbation. According to its recent exponents,13 Suárez, when defining the
10 See Maarten Hoenen, ed., Philosophy and Learning: Universities in the Middle Ages
(Leiden, 1995).
11 In recent research, it has become a topic of discussion whether or not Scotus considers
metaphysics as a scientia realis. On this topic, see Rolf Darge, “Erste Philosophie als
Transzendentalwissenschaft gemäß Duns Scotus: Seinswissenschaft oder ‘Onto-Logik’?”
Philosophisches Jahrbuch 111 (2004): 43–61.
12 Jorge Gracia, “Suárez’s Conception of Metaphysics: A Step in the Direction of Mentalism?”
The American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 65 (1991): 287–309; idem, “Suárez and MetaÂ�
physical Mentalism,” The American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 67 (1993): 349–354.
13 See Jean-François Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique (Paris, 1990), esp. pp.
185–187, 255, 264–268, 286–291, 319–321, 380; Victor Sanz, “La reducción suareciana de los
94 Darge
subject of metaphysics, uses in an extremely broad sense (communissime) the

terms ‘being’ (ens) and ‘thing’ (res), in accordance with a thought pattern deliv-
ered by Henry of Ghent and Duns Scotus. For these two medieval philosophers,
the terms signify the ‘not-absolutely-nothing’ of what can be thought without
contradiction (cogitabile), and thereby extend to mere thought-things as nega-
tions and conceptual relations. Following this interpretation, it has to be
assumed that Suárez includes in the subject of metaphysics both real beings
and thought-things. With such a view, Suárezian metaphysics turns out to be
theory of the ‘super-transcendental’ objectivity, concerning that which is logi-
cally possible (possibile logicum), thinkable without contradiction (cogitabile),
or the ontologically undetermined anything at all (aliquid, τι). The guiding
interest of this interpretation is directed towards the confirmation of a specific
scheme of the development of metaphysics from the late middle ages to
modernity. According to this scheme—inspired by Heidegger, but outlined
first by Gilson in his famous study of the history of the question of being—a
line of development of metaphysical thought may be drawn from Scotus to
Suárez, then from Suárez to the seventeenth-century school of metaphysics,
and from this to Leibniz, Wolff, and finally, to Kant. This development may be
characterized as a way of rationalization, subjectivication, and epistemologi-
cal reorientation of metaphysical thought. It leads to a destruction or over-
coming (‘sublation’) of metaphysics, understood as a doctrine of being. At the
road’s end stands modern ontology as a mere ‘Onto-Logic’, which prepares the
reversal of Kant’s transcendentalism.14 According to J.F. Courtine and other
leading advocates of this view, Suárez, in this process, brings about the decisive
trascendentales,” Anuario Filosófico 25 (1992): 403–420; Franco Volpi, “Suarez et le prob-

lème de la métaphysique,” Revue de Métaphysique et de Morale 3 (1993): 395–411, esp.
p. 410; John P. Doyle, “Beween Transcendental and Transcendental: The missing Link?”
The Review of Metaphysics 50 (1997): 783–815; Olivier Boulnois, Être et représentation. Une
généalogie de la métaphysique moderne à l’époque de Duns Scot (XIIIe–XIVe siècle) (Paris,
1999), esp. pp. 480–486; Jean-Paul Coujou, “Introduction,” in Suárez et la refondation de la
métaphysique comme ontologie. Étude et traduction de l’index détaillé de la Métaphysique
d’Aristote de F. Suárez, pp. *1–67; Costantino Esposito, “Introduzione,” in Francisco Suárez,
Disputationi Metafisiche I-III, intro., trans., and notes Costantino Esposito (Milano, 2007),
pp. 7–28, esp. pp. 12–15.
14 Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique, pp. 405–495, 521–538; 537: “…la
métaphysique moderne n’est point ontologie, mais bien tino-logie, science générale
(Leibniz) du cogitabile, de la chose au sens de ‘quelque chose’;” Boulnois, Être et représen-
tation, p. 513: “…la métaphysique n’atteint au statut de science qu’en abandonnant son
objet premier, l’être. La métaphysique ne devient ontologie qu’en devenant tinologie—
science de l’aliquid, de ce qui est comme de ce qui n’est pas.”
turn (‘le tournant suarézien’) by releasing the subject of metaphysics from any
ontological orientation, and directing it instead towards an extra-mental exis-
tence by reducing it to the mere thinkable.15
Be that as it may, it is noteworthy that at the beginning of his explanation of
the ratio entis, Suárez himself assures that the sense and spirit of the Aristotelian
doctrine concerning being will be preserved.16 This assertion corresponds to
the general purpose of the Disputationes, which is intended not only as a sys-
tematic textbook but also as a philosophical commentary on the Metaphysics.
The Disputationes metaphysicae arrange and expose Aristotelian thought in
accordance with the objective order. In order to reveal this connection and to
make it verifiable, Suárez prepends a copious Index locupletissimus in meta-
physicam Aristotelis,17 which summarizes the content of every book of the
Metaphysics, analyses its key questions, and indicates where the issue under
discussion will be treated in the systematic exposition that follows. It is gener-
ally accepted that Suárez constantly endeavours to reveal the scientific motives,
reasons, and implications of his philosophical statements. Thus, it does not
seem plausible to assume that Suárez’s assertion that he would preserve the
Aristotelian doctrine of being was only a rhetorical gesture, obscuring the real
intention of his ontological approach ultimately aimed at overcoming the
Aristotelian pattern of science. This gives us cause to consider more closely
Suárez’s explanation of the subject of metaphysics and the underlying pattern
of science within his historical context.
In the following chapter, I will first recall the scientific ambition of the
Disputationes by reference to some reflections in the Index locupletissimus
from the fourth book of the Metaphysics. I shall then determine, on the basis of
central texts from the first three disputations, what the subject of metaphysics
is for Suárez by which he seeks to achieve his scientific aim. A consideration of
the scientific character of Suárez’s metaphysics will help to clarify the relation-
ship of the Suárezian approach to the Aristotelian tradition of thought. The
conclusions that will arise from this analysis will lead to a revision of the cur-
rently prevailing view of the position that Suárez’s Disputationes hold within
15 Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique, p. 286: “Le ‘hors-néant’ qui suffit à stabi-
liser l’objet de la métaphysique […] ne requiert aucune réference—même implicite—à la
sphère de l’existence;” ibid., p. 264: “…l’étant réal, abstraction faite de l’exercice de
l’existence, ne peut se définir que de et à partir de l’objectité, ou du degré zéro de l’objectité
qu’est […] l’esse comme cogitari;” ibid., p. 268: “Suárez […] délivre l’ontologie dans la fig-
ure désormais dominante de l’Onto-logique.”
16 dm 2.Prol. (Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “curabimus Aristotelis mentem ac sensum.”
17 dm (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. i-lxvi).
96 Darge
the history of modern school metaphysics. As will become apparent, Suárez

does not intend to transcend the Aristotelian science of being towards a theory
of the super-transcendental object of thought, but aims rather at completing
the Aristotelian project of metaphysics by rigorously applying the scientific
standards that Aristotle himself formulated but did not systematically apply to
First Philosophy.
2 The Scientific Claim
The Index locupletissimus deals with the fourth book of the Metaphysics, under
the title “On the Subject of this discipline and its parts, attributes and princi-
ples.”18 From the outset, Suárez understands the text from the perspective of an
ontological synthesis that had come down from thirteenth-century scholasti-
cism. In this synthesis, the multitude of determinations concerning the subject
matter of the First Philosophy is related to the Posterior Analytic’s doctrine of
science and, methodically following Avicenna, is brought to a unity. According
to this view, the subject of First Philosophy is not the first in the order of causal-
ity or perfection, that is to say, the divine substance, but rather first in the sense
of the first known absolute universal ratio, expressed by the word ‘being’ (ens).
The opening sentence of the fourth book, “There is a science which investigates
being as being and the attributes which belong to this in virtue of its own
nature,”19 is understood, then, to mean a formal determination of the subject,
which has to be explained in this science by deducing its necessary attributes
from its principles, and by establishing its essential partitions.20
In the second chapter of book four, Aristotle seeks to explain the unity of
First Philosophy with respect to the different uses of the word ‘being’ (ón/ens);
in some of them, ‘being’ refers to mere beings of reason (entia rationis).
Aristotle explains the unity of the subject of metaphysics in terms of the com-
mon focal point to which diverse senses of being refer (pròs hen), that is, sub-
stance (ousía). But is it not the case, then, that mere beings of reason also fall
under the subject of First Philosophy so construed?
18 dm (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. xiv): “De subiecto huius doctrinae, eiusque partibus, affectibus, ac
principiis.”
19 Aristotle, Metaphysics, 4.1.1003a21.
20 Zimmermann, Ontologie oder Metaphysik?, esp. pp. 136–55; Honnefelder, “Der zweite
Anfang der Metaphysik;” Rolf Darge, “Die Grundlegung einer allgemeinen Theorie der
transzendentalen Eigenschaften des Seienden bei F. Suárez,” Zeitschrift für philosophische
Forschung 54 (2000): 339–358.
Suárez considers this question, and offers an answer that sets the course for
the analysis of the concept of being that he will eventually offer. As Suárez
reads him, Aristotle, when determining the subject of First Philosophy in the
first chapter of the fourth book, only speaks about real being. Taken in an ana-
logical sense—that is, analogical with respect to the “unity of the concept”21—
’being’ refers to one single objective content (ratio), which is found intrinsically
in all significates including those that, in the context of an analogous predica-
tion, are called ‘being’ only in a subordinate manner. Only under this condi-
tion is being qua being considered the object of a scientific demonstration
revealing its necessary attributes.22 In the second chapter, however, where pri-
vations, accidental being, and beings of reason are also called ‘entia’, Aristotle
speaks about the whole range of meanings of the word ‘being’. Here too,
indeed, he makes use of an analogy, though it is an analogy only in the sense
of an external denomination of the objects in question, without a unity of the
concept, as it is required for scientific demonstration. In line with this, in the
sixth book of the Metaphysics Aristotle excludes mere accidental being (ens
per accidens) and the mere beings of reason from the investigation of being as
being.23
Three basic assumptions of Suárez’s exposition are of interest here:
21 dm, Index (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. xv): “…habet analogiam cum unitate conceptus.”
22 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. xv): “…responderi potest: de ente dupliciter posse nos loqui: uno
modo ut comprehendit tantum vera entia realia, et illa omnia transcendit et sub se conti-
net. Alio modo ut extenditur ad multa, quae vere et intrinsece entia non sunt, solumque
per quamdam attributionem extrinsecam entia dicuntur, ut sunt privationes, vel entia
omnino per accidens aut rationis. Priori modo videtur locutus de ente Aristoteles in
capite superiori, et illo modo est proprie adaequatum obiectum et directum unius scien-
tiae, ut habet analogiam cum unitate conceptus, et rationis obiectivae intrinsecae inven-
tae in omnibus significatis etiam secundariis.” Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. xv): “Unde fit, ut
ens secundum adaequatam significationem possit esse extremum demonstrationis, in
qua proprietates illi adaequatae de ipso demonstrentur.”
23 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. xv): “Posteriori modo videtur hic locutus Aristoteles de ente, et
sic includit respectu multorum significatorum analogiam plurium conceptuum, et secun-
dum extrinsecam denominationem respectu aliquorum. […] Nec mirum videri debet,
quod in diversa significatione sumat Aristoteles nomen entis in his duobus capitibus,
nam in eis diverso modo loquitur; in priori enim cum adaequatum obiectum metaphysi-
cae constituat, agit de ente secundum proprium eius conceptum obiectivum; in hoc vero
capite agit de tota amplitudine significationis nominis entis; unde satis expresse plura
numerat, quae entia non sunt, ut privationes et similia, quae ipsemet excludit ab obiecto
metaphysicae directo, scilicet, et adaequato in lib. 6 in fine.”
98 Darge
1. Aristotle made no attempt—and in fact, it is logically impossible—to

reduce ‘real being’ and ‘being of reason’ to a superordinate common con-
cept of being.
2. As the proper object of First Philosophy, Aristotle determined the objec-
tive content (ratio) of real being, which in the strict sense is one and per-
tains intrinsically and essentially to everything that is real.
3. Only under this latter condition [2] is a theory of being as demonstrative
science possible.
As we shall see, Suárez takes up precisely such an approach, and systematically

unfolds a demonstrative science of being in his first two disputations.
3 The Formal Determination of the Subject
The first disputation begins with an investigation that attempts to determine

the subject of metaphysics through a process of elimination. Six different tra-
ditional opinions are discussed and subsequently rejected. The first two24 con-
ceive metaphysics as the science of being in general, but give too broad a
definition of its subject. According to the first thesis, ‘being’ must be under-
stood in the most abstract sense (abstractissime), so that the subject includes
not only all real beings but also mere beings of reason that have no real entity
or essence. The second opinion considers real being in its entire range (ens
reale in tota sua latitudine) to be the subject of metaphysics. This subject does
not directly include beings of reason, however it would include such objects
that are not essentially ‘beings’, but only in a completely accidental way,
because they (e.g., a cairn) only exist as an accumulation of entia per se with-
out an inner and essential unity.25
Suárez refutes both positions with arguments taken from the Aristotelian
doctrine of science, which maintains that that which is being only in a merely
accidental way has no consistent essence and therefore also has no real defini-
tion or real attributes that could be deduced from this essence. In order
to refute the first opinion, he takes up the above-mentioned argument
from the Index. Beings of reason do not coincide with real things in a unique
objective ratio of being under which they could equally be the object of a sci-
entific investigation, but the adequate object of science requires an objective
24 See ibid., 1.1.2-4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 2–3).

25 See ibid., 1.1.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 3); ibid., 4.3.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 126): “[…] sumitur per
se et per accidens in ordine ad unitatem.”
unity.26 Nevertheless, they may indirectly be objects of metaphysical consider-

ation insofar as it is necessary for the purpose of the explication of its subject.
The remaining four opinions, thinks Suárez, interpret the subject too nar-
rowly. Among them the most extreme is one that the famous Aristotelian
‘Commentator’ set against Avicenna’s view. According to Averroes, the subject
of metaphysics is the Divine.27 Suárez rejects this opinion—and its extension,
according to which the subject also includes created immaterial beings (intel-
ligentiae)28—by means of traditional Scotist arguments. Both opinions erro-
neously presuppose that human reason is by itself able to gain direct insight
into the proper mode of the being of immaterial substances. This insight, how-
ever, is only indirectly attainable for human reason by means of an inquiry that
proceeds from one’s experience of the world and, through an analysis of our
conceptual contents, leads to a universal determination, which is common to
God and all other—material and immaterial—real beings.29 Since there is a
ratio of being common to God and to all created beings (thus preceding their
proper rationes in the conceptual order, in relation to the universality of predi-
cation), and since the proper principles and attributes correspond to this
objective ratio of being (which can be demonstrated from being as such), even
if there were a separate science of immaterial being, another science that deals
with these most general determinations (which God and creature have in com-
mon) would still be required. This science, moreover, would be called the ‘First
Philosophy’.30
Another erroneous opinion restricts the subject of metaphysics to finite
being, divided among the Aristotelian categories (whether it include immate-
rial beings or not). In the first case, only God is not included, while in the sec-
ond case, neither God nor finite immaterial substances are included in the
subject of metaphysics. Instead, they are considered only as a principle
or cause of this subject, but not as a part of it. The proponents of this view,
according to Suárez,31 act wrongly upon the authority of Thomas Aquinas. The
26 See ibid., 1.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 3).

31 Ibid., 1.1.18-20 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 8–9); cf. Thomas Aquinas, Super Boetium De Trinitate
q. 5, a. 4 c (ed. Leonine, vol. 50, p. 154): “Unde et huiusmodi res diuine non tractantur a
philosophis, nisi prout sunt rerum omnium principia. Et ideo pertractantur in illa doc-
trina, in qua ponuntur ea que sunt communia omnibus entibus, que habet subiectum ens
inquantum est ens. […] in qua considerantur res divine non tamquam subiectum scien-
tiae, set tamquam principia subiecti.”
100 Darge
assertions in question hold that we come to a knowledge of God only by means

of a consideration of God as a principle. They do not deny that within the
scope of being in general, metaphysics considers God as principle object and
investigates His essence and attributes absolutely (absolute)—that is, without
relation to other beings—as far as is possible by natural reason. Here, Suárez
presupposes the Scotist doctrine according to which ‘being’ may be used in
reference to God and creature in the same essential meaning.
The sixth opinion, which Suárez attributes to Buridan, says that the subject
of First Philosophy is just substance as such.32 It fails to recognize that sub-
stance and accident can be reduced to a unique common objective ratio of real
being, where ratio can be the subject of a science. The task of this science then
consists in explaining the content and unity of this common objective ratio of
being in general, and demonstrating the real attributes of being as such—
which, according to their ontological status, evidently cannot be accidents.33
The process of elimination leads to a positive conclusion, namely, that in
accordance with Metaphysics IV, cap. 1, real being as such must be considered
the subject of metaphysics.34 This subject embraces God and every categori-
cally determined finite being (material and immaterial), as well as their real
accidents. It does not, however, include beings of reason, nor that which is a
being in a completely accidental manner.35
Hence, Suárez’s formal definition of the subject of First Philosophy supplies
no support to the current, generally accepted interpretation, according to
which his approach is aimed at a new ‘Onto-Logic’ of the pure thinkable. On
the contrary, as demonstrated above, Suárez endeavours to conform his
approach to the Aristotelian concept of First Philosophy and to the standards
of an Aristotelian doctrine of science. Later we must consider whether those
who would see in Suárez’s metaphysics an ontology of the ‘thinkable’ can rec-
oncile themselves with Suárez’s reflections about the intension and the onto-
logical status of this subject.
32 See dm 1.1.21-25 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 9–11).

34 Ibid., 1.1.26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11): “Dicendum est ergo, ens inquantum ens reale esse
obiectum adaequatum huius scientiae. Haec est sententia Aristotelis, 4 Metaph. fere in
principio.”
35 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11): “Ostensum est enim, obiectum adaequatum huius scientiae
debere comprehendere Deum et alias substantias immateriales, non tamen sola illas.
Item debere comprehendere non tantum substantias, sed etiam accidentia realia, non
tamen entia rationis et omnino per accidens; sed huiusmodi obiectum nihil aliud esse
potest praeter ens ut sic; ergo illud est obiectum adaequatum.”
4 Attributes and Principles of the Subject
According to the Aristotelian doctrine of science, the subject of a real science

requires real attributes that can be demonstrated directly and per se about this
subject, as well as requiring principles and causes, by which their necessary
connection with the subject can also be demonstrated. In these regards, the
science about being as being encounters two difficulties.36 First, being as such
cannot have real attributes different from itself because beyond being there is
only nothing; the ratio of being is intrinsically and essentially included in every
real attribute. However, according to the Aristotelian doctrine of science,
which is guided by the categorical order, the subject cannot be included inter-
nally and essentially in its attribute.37 Second, there is a being, namely God,
that has no principles and causes; therefore, being as being must not necessar-
ily have principles and causes.
Suárez solves the first difficulty by adapting the Aristotelian terminology—
oriented towards the categorical forms of being—to the conditions of a theory
of being as such, which transcends all the categories in the direction of the
common (commune), and may thus be called ‘transcendens’ (‘transcendental’)
in the pre-Scotist sense of what runs through all the Aristotelian categories.38
Section 1.1 shows the baseline of the solution, and its elaboration follows in
section 3.1. The decisive point of Suárez’s analysis consists in separating two
questions that had been tied together and melded in the Scotist tradition of
the scientia transcendens: (a) ‘whether the attributes of being qua being are
real beings or mere beings of reason’, and (b) ‘whether they are only conceptu-
ally or also really distinct from being as such’.39 Suárez’s analysis is directed
explicitly against the Scotist assertion of a formal-real distinction between the
attributes of being (passiones entis) and being as such.40 In the sequel, the case
that was inconceivable for Scotus becomes conceivable as they are considered
real attributes, so that metaphysics is possible as a scientia realis, even though
36 For the following, see ibid., 1.1.27–29 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 11–12).
37 See Aristotle, Analytica Posteriora, 1.4.73a34-73b 5; Metaphysics, 7.5.1031a2-5.
38 See dm 47.3.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 797): “Transcendentales dicuntur, et a praedicamen-
talibus distinguuntur, quia ad certum aliquod praedicamentum non pertinent, sed per
omnia vagantur.” On Suárez’s usage of the terms ‘transcendens’, ‘transcendentalis’, see
Rolf Darge, Suárez’ transzendentale Seinsauslegung und die Metaphysiktradition (Leiden,
2004), esp. pp. 66–96.
39 dm 3.1.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 104): “…in huiusmodi attributis formaliter sumptis aliud esse,
quod ipsa sint entia realia, vel rationis; aliud quod distinguantur re vel ratione.”
40 For a more detailed analysis, see Darge, Suárez’ transzendentale Seinsauslegung, esp.
pp. 118–138.
102 Darge
they do not constitute positive real properties that are really distinct from
being qua being.41 In his answer to (a) and (b) Suárez follows the mainline
scholastic doctrine of the transcendentals. Since Philipp the Chancellor’s (ca.
1230) Summo de bono, the one (unum), the true (verum), and the good (bonum)
have passed for these attributes42; beyond these three, according to Suárez, no
further attributes of being qua being have to be assumed.43
Concerning their relation to being qua being, Suárez’s view joins the pre-
Scotist tradition of the doctrine of the transcendentals, which is guided by an
Aristotelian explanatory model. In the fourth book of the Metaphysics, having
explained that the subject matter of metaphysics is being qua being, Aristotle
turns to ‘the one’ as a per se attribute of being, and explains its relationship to
being as follows: “being and the one are the same and one single nature in the
sense that they follow upon each other […] but not in the sense that they are
determined by one concept.”44 According to this assertion, the relationship
between being and the one is characterized by two features: real identity and
conceptual difference. In the pre-Scotist tradition of transcendental thought,
the two were correlated in the sense of a conceptual explication without any
real difference. This view is represented by an exposition of Thomas Aquinas
that Suárez mentions in this context.45 According to this exposition, the one
adds to being only a conceptual determination, the negation of division.46
Although this conceptual addition—just like any other negation—is a being
of reason,47 the one as such is not a being of reason, for ‘one’ signifies not only
41 dm 3.1.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 104): “…optime […] fieri potest ut [huiusmodi attributa] sint
realia, quamvis non re, sed ratione distinguantur.”
42 See Aertsen, Medieval Philosophy and the Transcendentals. The case of Thomas Aquinas
(Leiden, 1996), esp. pp. 25–70; Jorge Gracia, “The Transcendentals in the Middle Ages: An
Introduction,” in The Transcendentals in the Middle Ages, Topoi 11, No. 2, ed. Jorge Gracia
(1992), pp. 113–20; Jorge Gracia, “Suárez and the Doctrine of the Transcendentals,” ibid.,
pp. 121–133.
43 dm 3.2.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 108): “…dicendum est […] tres tantum esse proprias passiones
entis, scilicet unum, verum et bonum.” In a detailed discussion, Suárez rejects the Scotist
doctrine of the disjunctive passiones entis as well as the Thomist doctrine, which considers
res and aliquid (aliud-quid) as passions entis. With regard to this discussion, see Darge,
Suárez’ transzendentale Seinsauslegung und die Metaphysiktradition, esp. pp. 139–182.
44 Aristotle, Metaphysics, 4.2.1003b22-24.
45 dm 3.1.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 106): “…ita videtur rem hanc plane exponere D. Thomas […].”
46 Thomas Aquinas, In IV Metaph., lect. 2, n. 560, ed. Marietti (Turin, 1964), p. 156: “[…] super-
addens indivisionis rationem, quae cum sit negatio vel privatio, non ponit aliquam
naturam enti additum.” Regarding Aquinas’s conception of the one as transcendental, see
Aertsen, Medieval Philosophy and the Transcendentals, esp. pp. 201–242.
47 Ibid., lect. 2, n. 560, p. 156: “…negatio vel privatio non est ens naturae sed rationis.”
the indivision of a thing but also the substance of a thing, together with its
indivision; it means the undivided being or, said differently, being insofar as it
is undivided.48 Thus, by adding it to the ratio entis—which it essentially
includes as a general aspect, but conceptually differs from being as such49—
the one gives a sort of explication of the nature of being qua being. Suárez
explains the Aristotelian text in the same sense as Thomas.50 Like Thomas,
Suárez takes the structure of the one to be representative of the true and the
good51: these, too, include the ratio of being, and thus are in substance or
essentially the same as being. However, they also add to being qua being a con-
ceptual aspect, which is not yet expressed by the word ‘being’. Accordingly, the
true and the good give an inner explication of the nature or perfection of being
qua being. ‘The true’ thus signifies being insofar as it forms the basis for a cog-
nitive act that conceives something as it really is. ‘The good’, on the other hand,
signifies being insofar as it includes or founds a relation of convenience, by
which it is able to attract an aspiration for it.52
But every being independently from the intellect—immediately by its own
entity—is undivided, and is likewise a possible object of a true act of cognition
and is, in a way, convenient and therefore attractive.53 The conceptual addi-
tions are, consequently, not based on fictions of our intellect, but are due to the
48 Ibid.: “…unum […] ipsum ens designat, superaddens indivisionis rationem;” ibid., n. 553,
p. 155: “…est enim unum ens indivisum.”
49 Ibid., n. 553, p. 155: “[…] significant omnino idem, sed secundum diversas rationes.”
50 dm 3.1.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 106): “Hanc conclusionem indicasse mihi videtur Arist., 4
Metaph., cap. 2, simul dicens, ens et unum eamdem dicere naturam, et nihilominus non
idem formaliter significare; quia nimirum unum de formali addit negationem, quam non
dicit ens; per eam vero nihil aliud explicatur, quam ipsamet natura entis.”
51 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 106): “Similiter autem dicendum est de vero et bono, et si quae
sunt alia huiusmodi attributa; haec enim formaliter, et in ordine ad conceptionem nos-
tram non dicunt idem quod ens.”
52 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 106): “…significant […] ens sub quadam habitudine ad aliud,
scilicet quatenus in se habet unde ametur aut vere cognoscatur.” Suárez takes the basic
idea of an inner explication of being by its transcendental attributes from Thomas
Aquinas, but, because of his different understanding of the meaning of ‘being’, does not
follow his concrete explication of the one, the true, and the good. Rather, he looks for a
new interpretation that brings together his own quidditative concept of being—inspired
by Scotus—and the traditional Pre-Scotistic conception of the transcendental attributes
of being; see my conclusions in Suárez’ transzendentale Seinsauslegung und die
Metaphysiktradition, pp. 387–405.
53 Ibid., 3.1.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 106): “…quamvis enim mens nihil de rebus cogitet, aurum
est verum aurum, et est una determinata res distincta ab aliis; et similiter Deus est unus
et bonus etc.”
104 Darge
fact that our finite intellect grasps the real thing by means of an inadequate
abstraction.54 For this reason, these attributes have to be understood as real,
even if what they express in addition to ‘being’ is only a conceptual aspect.55
And this, moreover, satisfies the requirements of a science as defined in the
Posterior Analytics. Metaphysics, by immediately and per se giving evidence of
these attributes from the nature of being as such, deals not with mere beings of
reason, but accomplishes its task as a real demonstrative science of being qua
being.56
A second question remains, namely, whether this subject has principles and
causes. Suárez solves this problem with an analysis of what can be regarded as
a principle within the scope of a demonstrative science. He distinguishes two
kinds of principles: (a) basic propositions, from which demonstrations proceed;
and (b) grounds of being, which in the framework of a syllogistic demonstra-
tion are represented by simple concepts—more precisely, by the middle-term
(medium), which joins the major and minor premises. Evidently, metaphysics is
not deficient in principles of the first kind, and one of its primary tasks, accord-
ing to Aristotle, consists of formulating and explaining the first principle of
demonstration, namely, the principle of non-contradiction.57 In his exposition,
Suárez follows Aristotle for the most part.58 Among the principles of knowledge
from which the demonstration of the transcendental attributes of being pro-
ceeds, the principle of non-contradiction is the first and most fundamental one.
Therefore, according to Suárez, it must be considered systematically in the con-
text of the foundation of a general theory of the passiones entis.59
The ontological grounds are further divided into causes, which are in reality
distinct from their effects and principles of being, and which are only concep-
tually distinct from the principatum. As the objection proves, the subject of
metaphysics has no principles of the first kind, though such principles are not
54 Ibid., 3.1.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 104): “…distinctio rationis, quae oritur ex praecisione intel-
lectus, non est per conceptionem alicuius fictae entitatis, quae non sit in re, sed per
modum solum inadaequatum concipiendi veram rem; potest ergo esse attributum reale
quamvis modus attributionis et distinctionis sit solum per rationem.”
55 Ibid., 3.1.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 107): “…quia de formali dicunt aliquid, quod suo modo in
rebus, et vere ac simpliciter potest enti attribui.”
56 Ibid., 3.1.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 106): “…metaphysica, quae est realis ac vera scientia, haec
demontrat de ente; non autem demonstrat aliquid ab intellectu fictum;” see also ibid.,1.1.28
(ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11).
57 See Aristotle, Metaphysics, 4.3.1005a30-b35.
58 See dm 1.1.29 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 12).
59 Ibid., 3.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 111): “Quibus principiis demonstrari possint passiones de
ente, et an inter ea hoc sit primum ‘Impossibile est idem esse et non esse’.”
required for the status of metaphysics as demonstrative science. In order to

prove the attributes of being qua being, it suffices to reveal their ontological
grounds within the nature of being qua being—even if these grounds are not
really but only conceptually distinct from them—due to the different aspects
under which being is conceived. So for instance, unity is accounted for by the
essential perfection every being possesses immediately in and through its own
entity. Being is one insofar as it is undivided in itself, in the sense that its entity
is not a plurality of completely determined real essences60; the one adds to
being—which it is essentially itself—only a conceptual aspect, namely, the
negation of a manifoldness of perfect determinations of essence. In this case,
the ontological ground and the grounded are not really but only conceptually
distinct from each other.
5 Abstraction from Matter
In his explication of the subject of metaphysics, Suárez applies the traditional

criterion of ontological abstraction from matter. “In this regard one can define,
that metaphysics is the science which considers being insofar as it is being or
insofar as it really abstracts from matter.”61 What is the sense of this definition?
Does it entail a restriction of the subject to immaterial being, and consequently
a reduction of the ontological concept of metaphysics to the theological one?62
To address this question, it is helpful to recall the origin of this formula in the
context of the Aristotelian doctrine of science.
60 Ibid., 1.1.29 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 12); and ibid., 4.1.21 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 121); see the analy-
sis of Suárez’s concept of the transcendental unity in Darge, Suárez’ transzendentale
Seinsauslegung und die Metaphysiktradition, pp. 197–261.
61 Ibid.,1.3.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 22): “Sub qua ratione definiri potest, metaphysicam esse scien-
tiam quae ens, in quantum ens, seu in quantum a materia abstrahit secundum esse, contem-
platur;” ibid., 1.2.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 16): “Metaphysica vero dicitur abstrahere a materia
sensibili et intelligibili, et non solum secundum rationem sed etiam secundum esse.”
62 The question arises whether this determination presupposes the actual or at least the
possible existence of immaterial beings and their knowability for us; according to M.
Forlivesi, the existence of spiritual beings is presupposed in Suárez’s concept of real
being: M. Forlivesi, “Impure Ontology. The Nature of Metaphysics and Its Object in
Francisco Suárez’s Texts,” Quaestio 5 (2005): 559–86, esp. 563–568. In any event, Suárez’s
reflections on the subject of the First Philosophy at the beginning of the Disputationes
must not to be confused with the quest for the presuppositionless inception of philo-
sophical thought.
106 Darge
In the sixth book of the Metaphysics, Aristotle distinguishes between three

theoretic sciences—philosophy of nature, mathematics, and first philosophy
(‘theology’)—with respect to the manner in which their respective object is
related to matter and motion.63 In the Latin west, these considerations were
already well known prior to the complete reception of the Metaphysics, for
Boethius summarizes them in his treatise on Trinity (ca. 519)—frequently
commented upon until the twelfth century—in order to elucidate the scien-
tific position and methodological characteristic of his inquiry.64 According to
his exposition, it is peculiar to theology to deal with what is unmoved,
abstracted, and separable (sine motu abstracta atque separabilis), “since the
substance of God is without matter and motion.” First philosophy here is inter-
preted as science of the immaterial divine being, that is, theology. Boethius,
unverified, presupposes that it is possible to get insight into the Christian doc-
trine of the Trinity by means of this (philosophical) theology; he does not yet
discriminate between knowledge based on reason alone and knowledge based
on revelation.
Both kinds of knowledge, which Boethius considers to be one, are sepa-
rated by Latin authors of the thirteenth century. Thomas Aquinas, in his
commentary on Boethius’s treatise on the Trinity, introduces a second ‘divine
science’ (scientia divina), namely, Christian theology (Theologia sacrae scriptu-
rae), which differs in principle from philosophical theology.65 According to
Aquinas, this kind of theology, founded upon revelation, is appropriate to the
issue of Boethius’s treatise. The introduction of Christian theology, however,
has consequences for metaphysics. It leads to a shift in the focus of metaphysi-
cal inquiry, from transmateriality to the highest universality (transcendental-
ity) of its objects. Even then, metaphysics deals with the divine not as its
63 See Aristotle, Metaphysics, 6.1.1026a 18–25.

64 Boethius, Quomodo Trinitas unus Deus ac non tres Dii, cap. 2, in Patrologiae cursus comple-
tus Series Latina, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne (mpl), 64, p. 1250.
65 Thomas Aquinas, Super Boetium De Trinitate q. 5, a. 4 c, ed. Leonine, vol. 50 (1992), p. 154:
“Sic ergo theologia sive scientia diuina est duplex. una in qua considerantur res diuinae
non tamquam subiectum scientie, sed tamquam principia subiecti, et talis est theologia
quam philosophi prosequntur, que alio nomine ‘metaphysica’ dicitur; alia vero que ipsas
res divinas considerat propter se ipsas ut subiectum scientie, et hec est theologia que in
sacra Scriptura traditur.” In Metaph., prol., ed. Marietti (Turin, 1964), p. 1: “Dicitur […]
‘metaphysica’, in quantum considerat ens et ea quae consequuntur ipsum.” See Jan
Aertsen, “Was heißt Metaphysik bei Thomas von Aquin?” in Scientia und ars im Hoch- und
Spätmittelalter, ed. Ingrid Craemer-Ruegenberg and Andreas Speer, Miscellanea
Mediaevalia 22 (Berlin, 1994), pp. 217–239, esp. pp. 226–228.
subject, but as the principle of its subject, namely, being in general.66 Aquinas
finally expresses this result in terms of ontological abstraction from matter in
order to integrate the traditional view.67 To this end, he introduces a differen-
tiation. The real abstraction from matter may be understood in two ways: first,
in the sense of absolute immateriality, as is the case with God and purely spiri-
tual substances, and second, in the sense of not-being-necessarily-in-matter,
as is the case “for instance [with] substance, quality, being (ens), potency, act,
one and many and suchlike.”68 Metaphysics, or philosophical theology, deals
with what is really abstracted from matter in such a way that it considers as its
subject abstractions in the second sense, namely, being qua being, while it
seeks what is abstracted in the first way, the divine, as the principle of its
subject.69
Suárez refers directly to this interpretation,70 however he makes different
use of it. It serves him not only in order to reconcile the ontological concept of
metaphysics with the traditional theological concept, but also to delimit the
subject area of first philosophy in order that it may ensure the autonomy of the
other theoretical sciences. According to his view, this delimitation of areas is
indispensable, since first philosophy, by explicating being qua being, also
includes the diversity of the particular forms of being, especially the categori-
cal forms in which the ratio of being is realized. For within the context of the
determination of the subject of metaphysics, this ratio is not conceived for-
mally by a complete abstraction from the particular forms of being, but is
attained by a sort of total abstraction, as a potential whole that somehow
66 See above, n. 31.

67 See Thomas Aquinas, Super Boetium De Trinitate q. 5, a. 1 c (ed. Leonine, vol. 50, p. 138).
68 Ibid.: “[…] siue numquam sint in materia, sicut Deus et angelus, siue in quibusdam sint in
materia et in quibusdam non, ut substantia, qualitas, ens, potentia, actus, unum et multa
et huiusmodi.”
69 Ibid., q. 5, a. 4c, p. 154: “Theologia ergo philosophica determinat de separatis secundo
modo sicut de subiectis, de separatis autem primo modo sicut de principiis subiecti.” In
this sense, see also In Metaph., prol., ed. Marietti, p. 2: “Quamvis autem subiectum huius
scientiae sit ens commune, dicitur tamen tota de his quae sunt separata a materia secun-
dum esse et rationem. Quia secundum esse et rationem separari dicuntur, non solum illa
quae numquam in materia esse possunt, sicut Deus et intellectuales substantiae, sed
etiam illa quae possunt sine materia esse, sicut ens commune.”
70 dm 1.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 17): “…recte notavit D. Thomas in prolog. Metaphysicae,
non solum dicuntur abstrahere a materia secundum esse illae rationes entium, quae
nunquam sunt in materia, sed eiam illae quae possunt esse in rebus sine materia, quia
hoc satis est ut in sua ratione formali materiam non includant, neque illam per se
requirant.”
108 Darge
includes these inferior forms.71 The Aristotelian doctrine of science rejects the
Platonic model of a unified science, insisting instead on a plurality of sciences,
each of which is methodically autonomous. Thus, the metaphysical field of
vision has to be delimitated in such a way that other scientific approaches to
the categorical forms of being remain possible. Since concrete things, by some
kind of abstraction, formally become objects of a theoretical consideration,
this delimitation can be performed only by a distinction of the formal
aspects—thus, by a separation of the different modes of abstraction—accord-
ing to which the various types of theoretical science formally relate to things as
their objects of knowledge.
According to the traditional view, the more a thing is separated from
matter, the more it is understandable, and similarly, the more immaterial
or abstracted from matter the object of an intellectual cognition is, the
more certain this cognition is. Therefore, according to Suárez, the know-
able objects—and, as a consequence, the theoretical sciences—distin-
guish themselves from each other through their respective degrees of
abstraction from matter. Now the highest degree of abstraction, and
accordingly, the highest possible certainty of knowledge, is due to the first
and fundamental scientific discipline, assigned to first philosophy only
insofar as the formal aspect by which being in general is constituted as an
object of knowledge of first philosophy implies a real ontological abstrac-
tion from matter, in the sense of “being-never-or-not-necessarily in mat-
ter.”72 By explicating the nature of being qua being, first philosophy keeps
itself—even if it applies attention to particular categorical forms of
being—within the limits of this abstraction, “and it does not transcend
them, for everything else belongs to philosophy of nature and to mathe-
matics.”73 Within the limits of this abstraction, it is concerned, for instance,
with the particular rationes of created and uncreated being as such, of con-
tingent and necessary being, of substance and accident, quality, action,
operation, dependency, living being, perceiving, and understanding being,
as well as with some rationes proper to immaterial beings, as for instance
71 Ibid., 1.2.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 16): “…cum metaphysica dicitur versari circa ens in quan-
tum ens, non est existimandum sumi ens omnino ac formaliter praecisum, ita ut
excludantur omnia inferiora, secundum proprias rationes, quia haec scientia non sistit in
sola consideratione illius rationis formalis actualis; sumenda ergo est illa ratio, prout
includit aliquo modo inferiora.”
73 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 17): “…ultra non progreditur, nam caetera ad physicam vel math-
ematicam spectant.”
the ratio of immaterial substance.74 Furthermore, it is concerned with the

rationes of cause, of causality, of effect as such, and of different types of
causality, and last but not least, with the ratio of the first cause and of its
universal (transcendental) causality. The investigation of these particular
forms and modes of being is carried out following the investigation of
being in general and its necessary attributes (up to Disp. 11). In both parts,
the Disputationes intend nothing other than to explain the subject of meta-
physics: being qua being.75
6 The ‘Objective Concept of Being’
Instead of the traditional formula ‘ens inquantum ens (reale)’, Suárez some-
times uses the expression ‘conceptus obiectivus entis’ to define the subject of
the First Philosophy.76 This expression has attracted special attention among
the exponents of the ‘Suárezian turn’ in metaphysics; their thesis is based,
above all, on a particular understanding of the way in which Suárez uses the
term ‘objective concept of being’. Therefore, we have to look more closely at his
use of the term, and must ask how it fits the Aristotelian models of thought by
which Suárez, as shown above, interprets the First Philosophy as real science
about being qua being. Thus, the ontological status of what he means by ‘con-
ceptus obiectivus’ must first be analyzed, followed by his explication of the
metaphysical concept of being.
74 See ibid., 1.2.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 17–18). However, an investigation of the human
soul is not found in the Disputationes metaphysicae. Following Aristotle, Suárez rele-
gates this investigation to the last part of natural philosophy; see dm 1.2.20 (ed. Vivès,
vol. 25, p. 19).
75 Ibid., 2.Prol. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “In posteriori [principali parti] praecipuam eius [i.e.,
subiecti huius scientiae] partitionem proponemus, atque ita res omnes, quae sub ente
continentur, et illius rationem includunt, ut sub obiectiva ratione huius scientiae cadunt,
et a materia in suo esse abstrahunt, […] investigabimus et explanabimus.” The unity of
metaphysics is the object of detailed reflections in ibid., 1.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 22–25).
76 Ibid., 1.1.23 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 10): “…simpliciter verius est dari conceptum obiectivum
entis, secundum rationem abstrahibilem a substantia et accidenti, circa quem per se, et
ut sic, potest aliqua scientia versari, eius rationem et unitatem explicando et nonnulla
attributa de illo demonstrando; hoc autem fit in hoc scientia [i.e., metaphysica].” Ibid.,
2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…intendimus explicare conceptum obiectivum entis ut sic,
secundum totam abstractionem suam, secundum quam diximus esse metaphysicae
obiectum.”
110 Darge
6.1 ‘Objective Concept’

Suárez explicitly reflects upon the use he makes of the term ‘conceptus obiecti-
vus’, whereby he takes as a basis the triad of formal concept, objective concept,
and language expression, a triad that is common in later scholasticism but
understood in varying ways.77 According to Suárez, the cognitive process of
conception formally concludes with a concept that immediately represents
the cognized thing as its natural reflection.78 This concept, together with the
corresponding act of conceiving, constitutes the ‘conceptus formalis’; it finds
linguistic expression in a word. The word serves to express the concept only
insofar as it signifies that which the concept represents naturally, by an imposi-
tion (impositio) based on the concept. Therefore, the linguistic expression
directly signifies the object, which is represented by the formal concept.79
Exactly in this way the expression ‘being’ relates to the formal concept of being
and to its object.
That, however, which is represented in and conceived by the formal concept
of the intellect—the known thing or, said in a more general way (considering
that the intellect at times reflects on something, which only has esse obiective
within the intellect), the conceived ratio—constitutes the objective concept.80
In order to avoid a misunderstanding, Suárez explicitly points out that the
term ‘concept’ in this context does not mean a mental structure, which termi-
nates the process of conceiving inside of the intellect.81 ‘Concept’ is used here
in terms of an extrinsic denomination (denominatio extrinseca),82 which char-
acterizes the named thing not according to its own inner form, but with respect
to something else, which from the outside (externally) relates to it. So, for
77 See dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “Supponenda imprimis est vulgaris distinctio con-
ceptus formalis et obiectivi.” Regarding this distinction, see Theo Kobusch, Sein und
Sprache (Leiden: Brill, 1987), esp. pp. 194–210; Elizabeth J. Ashworth, “Suárez on the
Analogy of Being,” Vivarium 33 (1995): 50–75, esp. pp. 70–72.
78 See dm 2.1.1, 11 and 13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 64–65, 69).
79 Ibid., 2.2.23 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 78): “…sicut voces exprimunt conceptus formales mentis,
ita etiam immediate significant obiecta quae per huiusmodi conceptus immediate
repraesentantur.”
80 Ibid., 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…conceptus obiectivus dicitur res illa vel ratio quae
proprie et immediate per conceptum formalem cognoscitur vel repraesentatur.”
81 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…non est conceptus ut forma intrinsece terminans
conceptionem.”
82 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65) : “‘conceptus’ quidem per denominationem extrinsecam a
conceptu formali.” On Suárez’s doctrine of ‘denominatio extrinseca’, see John P. Doyle,
“Prolegomena to a Study of Extrinsic Denomination in the Work of Francis Suárez,”
Vivarium 22 (1984): 121–160.
instance, from the act of seeing (visio), which relates externally to a wall, the
wall is called ‘seen’ (visum). The point of reference, from which the extrinsic
denomination is carried out, is only the formal concept; ‘objective concept’, for
its part, means the ratio or the thing, which is—and insofar as it is—the object
to which the intellect in the act of cognition refers immediately by a formal
concept.83 Since the objective concept is not simply the existing thing, which
in itself is concrete and singular,84 but the thing in a certain respect—insofar
as the intellect, by means of the formal concept, is directed towards it—it does
not exclude from itself the features of commonness and indeterminacy con-
cerning the individual and particular determination of the thing. Rather, it
normally features them,85 for in the normal case of conceiving, the formal con-
cept terminates a process of abstraction in which the intellect prescinds from
any individual and particular determination of the thing, highlighting the
structure in which it corresponds to other things and is similar to them.86 This
process of abstraction necessarily starts with singular real things given by
experience. But in these things, the ratio, manifested abstractly by the objec-
tive concept, is ‘concretely’ given, coalesced with the rest of the determina-
tions of the real thing. So, in substance, the objective concept is not a separate
form apart from the concrete reality of things, but is the concrete thing, or the
real content of the thing itself, insofar as the ratio, which is conceived within it
through the formal concept, is nothing other than the ratio of the conceived
thing.87
Since the objective concept does not differ in substance or in content from
the singular things but differs from them only secundum rationem, through the
83 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…obiectum et materia circa quam versatur formalis con-
ceptio et ad quam mentis acies directe tendit.”
84 Ibid., 6.2.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 206): “…omnis res, quae existit necessario est singularis et
individua.”
85 Suárez does not exclude the possibility of conceiving individual things as such; see dm
2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…conceptus […] obiectivus interdum […] esse potest res
singularis et individua.” Regarding the epistemological justification of this view, see J. de
Vries, “Die Erkenntnislehre des Franz Suárez und der Nominalismus,” Scholastik 24 (1949):
321–349, and Courtine, Suárez et le système de la métaphysique, esp. pp. 157–181.
86 dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…conceptus obiectivus […] saepe […] est res universalis
vel confusa et communis, ut est homo, substantia et similia;” ibid., 6.1.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25,
p. 204): “…est in rebus singularibus quaedam similitudo […] in qua fundatur communitas
quam intellectus attribuere potest tali naturae ut a se conceptae […].”
87 Ibid., 6.2.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 206): “…hoc est quod intendimus; nam hoc sensu dicuntur
universalia non esse separata, quia non sunt res realiter distinctae a singularibus, neque
habent propriam entitatem et realem unitatem distinctam ab illis.”
112 Darge
universality caused by the intellect, the theoretical scientific consideration

that seeks to explicate real things according to their universal features meets
its immediate object in the objective concept.88 Due to those characteristics,
the objective concept serves as a quasi interface by which one’s scientific con-
sideration attains the real thing, and it is the real thing that formally measures
the mental activity wherein the theoretical consideration reaches its end.89
Suárez interprets the objective concept of being and its importance for
metaphysics on the basis of this conception: all real beings in their respective
ratio essendi bear a resemblance to one another. Therefore, they can be con-
ceived by a unique formal concept, which simply represents their common
ratio of being, or beingness, and prescinds from their differences.90 Since this
formal concept abstracts from all particular modes of being, the objective
ratio, which it represents, necessarily has the character of ultimate universal-
ity. On the other side, however, this objective ratio really exists within concrete
singular things—namely in-separately91—so that it is, in substance, nothing
other than these real things in the entirety of their singular determinations;
accordingly, each real modus and each real determination of being innerly and
88 Ibid., 6.2.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 206): “…scientiae non sunt de nominibus et conceptibus
formalibus nostris, sed directe de rebus seu conceptibus obiectivis;” ibid., 6.5.3 (ed. Vivès,
vol. 25, p. 223): “…dicitur esse scientia de universalibus et non de singularibus, non quia
sit de nominibus et non de singularibus, sed quia est de conceptibus obiectivis commu-
nibus, qui, licet in re ipsa non distinguantur a singularibus, distinguantur tamen
ratione.”
89 Ibid., 1.4.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 28): “…nos ex rebus ipsis scientiam accipimus;” ibid., 1.4.29
(ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 35): “…mentis operationes ut rectae sint et verae, esse debent rebus
ipsis proportionatae et commensuratae.”
90 Ibid., 2.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 74): “…omnia entia realia vere habent aliquam similitudi-
nem et convenientiam in ratione essendi; ergo possunt concipi et repraesentari sub ea
praecisa ratione qua inter se conveniunt.”
91 Ibid., 2.2.35 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 81): “…si […] simpliciter sit sermo de ratione entis prae-
cise concepta, verum est, rationem illam esse in inferioribus et in eis omnino et intime
includi et nihilominus ratione praescindi, quamvis in re non sit praecisa;” ibid., 2.3.7 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 83): “…dicendum est, conceptum entis obiectivum prout in re ipsa existit,
non esse aliquid ex natura rei distinctum ac praecisum ab inferioribus in quibus existit.”
J.-F. Courtine overlooks this central ontological supposition; he assigns to the objective
concept of being in itself a sort of being and the status of an autonomous sphere beyond
rea—actual or potential—being; see Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique, p.
297f.: “L’in-détermination [i.e., of the objective concept of being] est ici positive, elle
définit une sphère autonome, une ‘entité’ specifique dont la réalité possible ou la possi-
bilité réale est en deca de l’alternative de l’esse in actu et de l’esse in potentia.”
essentially includes the ratio of being.92 Consequently, even if it abstracts from

the actual existence of things, the metaphysical explication of being, insofar as
it considers the objective ratio of being qua being, is mediately directed
towards the singular things in which this ratio possesses concrete reality.
Suárez’s position can be interpreted as a sort of circle that begins with real
beings—”since we receive scientific knowledge from the things them-
selves”93—and then ultimately reverts to them. This view perfectly matches
the model of metaphysics as real science, which Suárez develops in his consid-
erations about the subject of metaphysics following the Aristotelian tradition
of the doctrine of science.
6.2 The Ratio of Being

According to the exponents of the ‘Suárezian turn’, Suárez releases the subject
of metaphysics from any orientation towards actual existence in order to con-
ceive it in an ultimate abstraction as that which is not (absolute) nothing, inso-
far as it is without contradiction and thus has the character of a possible object
of thought.94 In this way, he delivered the traditional science of being as a mere
‘Onto-Logic’ of the thinkable.95 This interpretation, however, has to be exam-
ined more closely, with reference to the texts—particularly to texts of the sec-
ond disputation—that directly pose the question of “what being qua being is.”96
Suárez’s explication begins with a distinction in the way ‘being’ (ens) can be
taken, where it can be used as a noun or as participle of the verb ‘esse’ (sum). In
the second way, which underlies the nominal use, ‘ens’ signifies what actually
exists. Used as a noun, ‘ens’ signifies that which possesses a real essence, and
92 Ibid., 2.5.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 98): “…ratio entis includitur in omnibus substantiis et
omnibus partibus earum et in omnibus accidentibus et in omnibus modis positivis reali-
bus […] ostensum a nobis est includi etiam in differentiis et in modis positivis intrinsecis;
sed praeter haec nihil est in rebus.”
93 Ibid., 1.4.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 28): “…quia nos ex rebus ipsis scientiam accipimus.”
94 Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique, p. 286: “Le ‘hors-néant’ qui suffit à stabi-
liser l’objet de la métaphysique […] ne requiert aucune reference—même implicite—à la
sphère de l’existence;” ibid., p. 264: “…l’étant réal, abstraction faite de l’exercice de
l’existence, ne peut se définir que de et à partir de l’objectité, ou du degré zéro de l’objectité
qu’est […] l’esse comme cogitari;” ibid., p. 255: “…le non-nihil, c’est à dire ce qui peut non
contradictoirement s’objecter à la pensée.”
95 Ibid., p. 268: “Suarez […] délivre l’ontologie dans la figure désormais dominante de
L’onto-logique.”
96 dm 2.Prol. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “In presente […] disputatione explicanda nobis est
quaestio, quid sit ens in quantum ens.”
114 Darge
thus is not mere fiction but is oriented towards an existence independent from
thought.97 In this nominal usage, it remains undetermined whether existence
is actually given or not. This distinction is not found in Thomas Aquinas but
rather explicitly in Duns Scotus, who makes use of it in order to base his new
metaphysical approach upon it.98 Scotus, however, does not regard himself as
its originator, and refers to an old-established tradition of word usage.99
According to the Aristotelian doctrine of science, only that which is neces-
sary—i.e., that which cannot be anything other than what it is—can be known
in the proper sense.100 Therefore, only the ratio signified by ‘being’ in the nomi-
nal use can serve as the key aspect according to which metaphysics is directed
towards real being in general, for actual existence does not belong necessarily
to every real being.101 But every real being innerly and essentially—and thus
necessarily—possesses the structure that the noun ‘being’ formally signifies102
and, by means of this aspect, can be an object of theoretical knowledge. Hence
the subject of metaphysics is being, insofar as it is something that possesses a
real essence.
In accordance with the Aristotelian tradition, Suárez explains what is meant
here by ‘essence’. It is the first, innermost indivisible and incommunicable root
of all activities and properties of the thing, and is expressed by the definition
97 Ibid., 2.4.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “Si ens sumatur, prout est significatum huius vocis in
vi nominis sumptae, eius ratio consistit in hoc, quod sit habens essentiam realem, id est
non fictam, nec chymericam, sed veram et aptam ad realiter existendum.”
98 See Ludger Honnefelder, Scientia transcendens. Die formale Bestimmung der Seiendheit
und Realität in der Metaphysik des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit (Hamburg, 1990), p. 240.
99 Duns Scotus, Super Lib. I. Perihermeneias, q. 8, n. 10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 551): “Unde solet
antiquitus dici, quod ens potest esse Participium vel Nomen; Ens Participium significat
idem quod existens, quia tenet significatum verbi, a quo descendit; ens Nomen forte sig-
nificat habens essentiam, illud dividitur in decem Genera, et sic concedentum est, quod
Caesar est ens, loquendo non de ente, quod est Participium.”
100 dm 1.3.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 22): “…supponimus […] metaphysicam esse vere ac proprie
scientiam, ut Aristoteles in princ. Metaphyicae et aliis innumeris locis docuit, et constat
ex definitione scientiae quae ex 1 Poster., et 6 Ethicor., cap. 3, sumitur, scilicet, quod sit
cognitio seu habitus praebens certam ac evidentem cognitionem rerum necessariarum
per propria earum principia et causas, si sit scientia perfecti a priori. Haec autem omnia
in hac doctrina inveniuntur […].”
101 Ibid., 2.4.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 91): “…existere […] non habet necessariam connexionem
cum essentia creaturae praecise concepta.” Ibid., 1.4.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 28): “Scientiae
[…] per se loquendo non supponunt suum obiectum actu existere; hoc enim […] acciden-
tarium est ad rationem scientiae.”
102 Ibid., 2.4.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 92): “…habere essentiam realem convenit omni enti reali
estque illi maxime essentiale.”
that determines what the thing in question is.103 Its common designation by
the artificial term ‘essentia’, which is derived from ‘esse’, originates from the
realization that, in the order of foundation, it is what among all features of the
thing is the first to subsist through the act of being.104
Its characterization as ‘real’ highlights that essential moment by which the
thing in question differs from a mere being of reason.105 This moment may
be explained both positively and negatively. Negatively, it can be said that the
essence is real, insofar as it “is free from inner repugnancy and is not a mere
fiction of the intellect.”106 In a positive way, it can be explained with regard to
the effects of the essence, as well as to the ground of its being. In the first
respect, the essence is ‘real’ insofar as it forms the principle or root of actual
activities, effects, or properties of the thing.107 In the second respect, ‘real’ can
only be understood with recourse to an external ground of being. Since the
divine essence has no external ground of being, this applies only to created
essences. A created essence then is ‘real’ insofar as it “can actually be produced
by God and constituted by Him in the being (esse) of an actual being (ens).”108
Otherwise, the essence itself forms the first inner cause, the fundamental and
simplest determination of every being. With regards to the essence itself, as
ground the meaning of ‘real’ can only be explained by the statement that the
essence is ‘real’ inasmuch as it “by itself is apt to be or to exist actually.”109
Nowhere does Suárez declare the mere possibile logicum to be the subject of
first philosophy. Admittedly, he states that an essence is without inner repug-
nancy, but the interpretation has to take the context of this statement into
account. First, this phrase characterizes the subject of first philosophy not
103 Ibid., 2.4.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…dicimus, essentiam rei esse id, quod est primum et
radicale ac intimum principium omnium actionum ac proprietatum, quae rei conveni-
unt. […] dicimus, essentiam rei esse, quae per definitionem explicatur.”
104 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…appellatur ‘essentia’, quia est id, quod per actum essendi
primo esse intelligitur in unaquaque re.”
105 Ibid., 54.1.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 1016): “…dicendum […] est, dari aliqua entia rationis, quae
neque sunt vera entia realia, quia non sunt capacia verae et realis existentiae.”
106 Ibid., 2.4.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…dicimus essentiam realem esse, quae in sese nullam
involvit repugnantiam, neque est mere conficta per intellectum.”
107 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…per hoc quod sit principium vel radix realium operatio-
num, vel effectuum […]; sic enim nulla est essentia, realis quae non possit habere aliquem
effectum vel proprietatem.”
108 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…sic dicimus essentiam esse realem, quae a Deo realiter
produci potest, et constitui in esse entis actualis.”
109 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…dicere possumus, essentiam realem eam esse, quae ex se
apta est esse seu realiter existere.”
116 Darge
simpliciter, but in a certain respect; it serves as an explanation of how a real

being differs from a mere being of reason. Second, in this latter respect, it
expresses only the first part of the whole thought; another partial thought fol-
lows immediately after, which denies the essence to be a mere product of the
intellect.110 Just before, moreover, Suárez explains the ratio of real essence in
the sense of a “non-fictitious, non-chimerical but veritable essence, which is
suited for real existence.”111 Thus, only both parts of thought together constitute
the adequate definition. And this, again, is only the first approach by means of
negation. Further explanations follow, which elucidate what is meant per affir-
mationem. Among them, the most important relates real being to its ground
within the essence itself, and explains it as the aptitude for actual existence,
imbedded in the essence itself.112 It applies without restriction to every essence,
and is used regularly by Suárez in order to distinguish real beings from beings of
reason, which, according to his view as analyzed above, do not directly belong
to the subject of first philosophy.113 This means that in the first approach, ‘per
negationem’, the focus is not on the first partial thought, but on the second one.
Indeed, for this distinction it does not suffice to indicate an absence of inner
repugnancy, for pure logical forms as, for instance, the predicables (genus, spe-
cies, etc.), are without inner repugnancy, but as pure mental relations that are
not apt to exist independently from the intellect, they are nevertheless beings
of reason and do not directly belong to the scope of metaphysics. Therefore, it
is not the concept of logical possibility that is in the centre of this explicatio
entis, but the idea that being by itself is oriented towards actual existence inde-
pendently from thought. Following this line of thought, Suárez finally identifies
the central concept of being (ens) with the concept of ‘thing’ (res).114 In order
110 See n. 106, supra: “…dicimus essentiam realem esse, quae in sese nullam involvit repug-
nantiam neque est mere conficta per intellectum.”
111 dm 2.4.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “[…] essentiam realem, id est non fictam, nec chymeri-
cam, sed veram et aptam ad realiter existendum.”
112 Ibid., 2.4.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 89–90): “…essentiam realem esse, quae ex se apta est esse
seu realiter existere.”
113 See ibid., 1.4.22 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 33); ibid., 3.2.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 108); ibid., 6.4.7 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 219); ibid., 54.1.4, 6 and 10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, pp. 1016, 1018); ibid., 54.2.10 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 1020).
114 Ibid., 2.4.15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 92): “Unde obiter colligo, ens, in vi nominis sumptum, et
rem, idem omnino esse seu significare, solumque differre in etymologia nominum; nam
res dicitur a quidditate, quatenus est aliquid firmum et ratum, id est non fictum, qua
ratione dicitur quidditas realis; ens vero in praedicta significatione dicit id, quod habet
essentiam realem. Eamdem ergo omnino rem seu rationem realem important.”
to avoid any misunderstanding, once again he points out what must be under-
stood by ‘real’:
We cannot understand that an essence or whatness is real without its

orientation towards being and real actual beingness; for considering an
essence, which does not actually exist, we only conceive that it is real
with regard to its quality, according to which being an actual entity does
not conflict with it [my emphasis]—what it has by actual existence. So
even if actual being does not belong to the essence of a creature, the ori-
entation towards being or the aptitude for being belongs to its inner and
essential concept.115
This explication takes up Scotus’s conception of being. But the pattern to

which it conforms is not Scotus’s exposition of the ‘most general’ (communis-
sime), due to its ontologically undetermined way of using ‘ens-res’; according
to this exposition, which Scotus presents in the famous Quodlibet q. 3 referring
back to Henry of Ghent’s distinction between two meanings of ‘res’, the term
‘ens-res’, in its most general use, signifies the not-absolutely-nothing of the
“conceivable, which does not include a contradiction.”116 Suárez, however,
completely ignores this concept of being in his Disputationes. Rather, his expli-
cation takes up the narrower, ontologically determined concept of being,
which Scotus expounds in his Quodlibet q. 3 by means of an opposition between
being and relatively nothing—the being of reason, which is thinkable without
contradiction, but is inapt for an existence that is independent from thought.117
115 Ibid., 2.4.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 92): “…quod vero essentia aut quidditas realis sit, intelligi
non potest sine ordine ad esse et realem entitatem actualem; non enim aliter concipimus
essentiam aliquam, quae actu non existit, esse realem, nisi quia talis est, ut ei non repug-
net esse entitatem actualem, quod habet per actualem existentiam; quamvis ergo actu
esse non sit de essentia creaturae, tamen ordo ad esse, vel aptitudo essendi est de intrin-
seco et essentiali conceptu eius.”
116 Duns Scotus, Quodlibet q. 3, n. 2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 114b): “…conceptibile, quod non
includit contradictionem.” For the historical background, see my analysis in Rolf
Darge, “‘Diese Lehre ist von allen die gewisseste’. Die Radikalisierung der aristo-
telischen Seinslehre in der Hochschulmetaphysik der frühen Neuzeit,” in Der
Aristotelismus in der Frühen Neuzeit—Kontinuität oder Wiederaneignung? eds. Günther
Frank and Andreas Speer, Wolfenbütteler Forschungen 115 (Wiesbaden, 2007), pp.
17–42, esp. pp. 30–39.
117 Ibid., q. 3, n. 2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25 [Paris, 1895], p. 114a): “Et secundo accipitur in isto mem-
bro, minus communiter pro ente, quod habet vel habere potest aliquam entitatem non ex
consideratione intellectus.”
118 Darge
In order to explain this narrower, quidditative concept of being, Scotus, in his

Ordinatio, applies the well-known formula “that, being does not conflict with”
(“hoc, cui non repugnat esse”).118 ‘Being’ (esse) in this context simply means
being independent from thought, for Scotus opposes being (ens) to the mere
product of the intellect, and defines it as that “with which the true being [esse]
of essence or existence does not conflict.”119
The Scotist definition contains a double negation. Why does Suárez make
use of this intricate explication? Why does he not define being (ens), follow-
ing the pre-Scotist tradition, simply as ‘that which is’ or ‘what has being
[esse]’?
In Suárez’s view, the scientific exploration of being attains the knowledge
(scientia) to which it is dedicated, according to the Aristotelian doctrine of sci-
ence, if and only if it considers all kinds of real things under the aspect of an
ultimate abstraction that prescinds from any character of finite, contingent
being, thus only comprising the ratio of being, which finite beings have in com-
mon with God and in which they themselves have the character of what can-
not be otherwise. This ratio of being, then, expresses neither actuality nor
potentiality, neither contingency nor necessity; formally, it only expresses the
essence, which by itself has the aptitude to exist independently from thought.
Just this aptitude is indicated in disputation 2.4 by the double negation, the
non-conflict with actual existence.
This conveys a threefold consideration:
First, it implies that the essence itself is not being (esse) and, therefore, in its
aptitude for actual being, has to be distinguished from ontological possibility,
which is a mode of being (esse in potentia).120
Second, it indicates that this aptitude is identical with the respective
essence. Thus, a being (ens), in order not to conflict with actual existence, does
not require any further quality or relation. In particular, it does not need a rela-
tion to the divine exemplary cause, nor to divine omnipotence. Rather, it inher-
ently, that is, by its very essence, has this aptitude for actual being. “Therefore
118 Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 43, q. un, n. 7 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 354); Ordinatio IV, d. 1, q. 1,
n. 8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 16 [Paris 1892], p. 109); Ordinatio IV, d. 8, q. 1, n. 2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 17, p. 7);
correspondingly: Ordinatio I, d. 3, p. 2, q. un., n. 314 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, p. 191); Ordinatio I,
d. 36, q. un., n. 50 u. 52 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, pp. 291ff).
119 Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 36, q. un., n. 50 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 290): “…cui scilicet non
repugnat esse verum essentiae vel existentiae.”
120 See dm 2.4.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 91): “…intelligitur, ens sumptum in vi nominis non sig-
nificare ens in potentia, quatenus privative vel negative opponitur enti in actu, sed signifi-
care solum ens ut praecise dicit essentiam realem, quod valde diversum est.”
we only can say that a real essence is that which by itself is apt (ex se apta est)
to be or to exist really.”121
Third, it indicates that this aptitude has the character of an inner essential
necessity, for a non-conflict can become a conflict only through a change
within the essential content of the extremes.122 So even God, who productively
recognizes every thing with regard to its essence, before creating it, despite His
omnipotence, cannot transmute the creatability of a thing to its contrary,
because the creatability of the respective thing has its inner principle in the
content or structure of its essence.123 Therefore, according to Suárez, the ques-
tion of why being created conflicts with the chimera but not with the human
being, for example, has to be answered in the same way Scotus answered it:
“because this one is of this kind and that one is that kind, no matter which
intellect conceives it.”124
According to this view, contingent existing things of the empirical world
have something necessary wherein they can be objects of the science of being.
Conversely, this means that the science of being, by considering the contin-
gent existing thing as being, concentrates on its quidditative formal structure,
by which it is necessarily oriented towards an existence independent from
thought; its investigation thereby relates just to that structure, which contin-
gent things share with God and all possible worlds insofar as they are able to be
created or suited to exist independently from thought. This necessary struc-
ture, however, cannot be detected and explicated in any other way than by an
a posteriori reasoning, which starts from experience and from an analysis of
our empirical concepts of real things, for “all our knowledge begins with sen-
sual perception.”125 In this way, metaphysical research transcends the objects
121 Ibid., 2.4.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…unde solum dicere possumus, essentiam realem
eam esse, quae ex se apta est esse, seu realiter existere.”
122 See in this sense also Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 36, q. un., n. 60 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 296):
“…quidquid repugnat alicui formaliter ex se, repugnat ei, et quod non repugnat formaliter
ex se, non repugnat.”
123 dm 2.4.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…dicimus essentiam esse realem quae a Deo realiter
produci potest, et constitui in esse entis actualis;” ibid., 30.17.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 209):
“…explicatur infinita virtus seu capacitas (ut sic dicam) illius potentiae [Dei], ut quidquid
ex se non repugnat, sit possibile per ipsam. Constat autem illud maxime repugnare quod
contradictionem involvit…”
124 Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 36, q. un., n. 60 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 296): “Et quare homini
non repugnat et chimaerae repugnat, est, quia hoc est hoc et illud illud, et hoc quocumque
intellectu concipiente.”
125 dm 1.5.22 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 43): “…humana cogitio a sensu incipit;” ibid., 1.6.27 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 61): “…omnis nostra cognitio a sensu incipit.”
120 Darge
of experience in the direction of the most general, super-categorical necessary

structure of beingness, or essentiality as such it is ‘transcending science’ (scien-
tia transcendens) about being qua being.
7 Conclusion
Suárez’s metaphysical approach clearly transforms the Latin tradition of meta-

physics that Scotus had introduced. However, this transformation does not
consist in a transmutation of the science of being to a theory of the possibile
logicum, the merely thinkable. In fact, it does not at all transcend the frame-
work of the Aristotelian doctrine of science, according to which first philoso-
phy is a real science of extra-mental being. Rather, Suárez confirms the
conception of metaphysics as the theory of the universal quidditative struc-
ture, which God and all creatable worlds have in common. This conception
does not mean a breakaway from the tradition, but only a continuation and
radicalization of tendencies that characterize the development of metaphysics
since the mid-thirteenth century, due to the reception of the Aristotelian
Metaphysics and its Arabic interpretations. Here, of crucial importance is
Avicenna’s systematic adoption of Aristotelian metaphysical thought, and the
change from a theological to an ontological concept of first philosophy: from
its understanding as wisdom to its understanding as theoretical universal sci-
ence; from the primacy of the order of perfection to the primacy of the order
of predication; from the first beginning of thinking with divine being to the
first beginning of thinking with the most universal ratio of being; and from the
multiplicity of the categorically confined meanings of ‘being’ to the unity of
the transcategorical concept of being as such. Suárez himself considers his
approach not as a radical restart but rather as a completion of the traditional
project of first philosophy. This project aims at an ultimate philosophical justi-
fication within the framework of a theoretical discipline that, on the one hand,
meets all requirements of an Aristotelian demonstrative science and, on the
other hand, does not contradict the Christian assumption of the contingency
of any created being—and furthermore, that generally admits revelation as
well as a theological science occupied with its explication as possible and
reasonable.
With respect to the scientific foundation, Suárez’s metaphysics implements
the methodological requirements that Aristotle himself had formulated in his
doctrine of science but had not accomplished in his doctrine of being. Against
this background, Suárez regards his own systematic outline of metaphysics
only as the realization of the Aristotelian program of a science of being qua
being, as his expositions in the Index locupletissimus in metaphysicam Aristotelis

and in the prologue of the second disputation show.
Nevertheless, in this continuation, the Aristotelian doctrine of being
undergoes a radical transformation. The focal point of this transformation
is the new quidditative, entirely simple concept of being, which, according
to Suárez, is predicated in just the same sense, from God and creature, sub-
stance and accidents—notwithstanding that the predication follows an
‘analogical’ order of the prior and posterior (secundum prius et poste-
rius).126 Through its consequent application and systematic explication,
first philosophy in the Disputationes takes a new shape. A clear indication
of this new shape is the division of the doctrine of being into a general
part, which is concerned with being in general and the attributes and prin-
ciples of being qua being, and a special part, which in the scope of the
metaphysical abstraction from matter deals with particular forms of
being—also and in the first place with God.127 That way, the philosophical
doctrine of God, which Suárez, in accordance with the philosophical tradi-
tion, considers to be the culmination of first philosophy, obtains a new sys-
tematic position, which indicates a shift of meaning. It no longer means a
trespassing on the level of the transcendentals towards the transcendent
divine being, which founds the transcendental being qua being; rather, it
now means an inner constituent part and an innerly perfecting moment of
the explication of being as being. According to Suárez, who follows Scotus
in this view, a philosophical understanding of God beyond the subject of
first philosophy is inconceivable because this subject coincides with the
first adequate object of the human intellect, which circumscribes the hori-
zon of that which is, in itself, understandable (per se intelligibile).
Thus, the first part of the science of being retains a strict orientation towards
the explication of the most general, transcendental rationes, which innerly
underlie all particular real structures, and are therefore implicitly compre-
hended in any apprehension of beings and are presupposed in any scientific
126 Regarding Suárez’s doctrine of the analogy of being and the methodical function of this
doctrine within the Disputationes metaphysicae, see Victor Salas’s contribution to this vol-
ume, “Between Thomas and Scotus: Suárez on the Analogy of Being,” and Rolf Darge,
“Grundthese und ontologische Bedeutung der Lehre von der Analogie des Seienden nach
F. Suárez,” Philosophisches Jahrbuch 106 (1999): 312–333.
127 dm 1.5.23 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 43): “Distinguendae videntur duae partes huius doctrinae:
una est, quae de ente ut ens est, eiusque principiis et proprietatibus disserit. Altera
est, quae tractat de aliquibus peculiaribus rationibus entium, praesertim de
immaterialibus.”
122 Darge
investigation.128 But these rationes, which open the horizon of the knowable,
must be entirely simple. Accordingly, the understanding of these rationes
necessarily has a maximum of simplicity and certainty. Therefore, with regard
to this first part of the doctrine of being, there is, from Suárez’s viewpoint, “no
doubt that among all scientific disciplines, this one is the most certain,”129
because it is the most concerned with first principles—that is, with these rati-
ones and those propositions, which on the basis of their conception immedi-
ately become evident—and thus needs fewer additional assumptions, which
are, in and of themselves, not evident.130 The Aristotelian doctrine of being
undergoes a radicalized transformation in this first part of Suárezian meta-
physics, insofar as Suárez endeavours to accomplish the Aristotelian ideal of
first philosophy by a systematic explication of the most simple and most gen-
eral necessary structure of reality, asserting a claim to a maximum of scientific
precision.
The great exponents of the European academic philosophy up to the eigh-
teenth century derive their understanding of the subject of first philosophy
from Suárez’s Disputationes metaphysicae. Christian Wolff explains this subject
in his Ontologia (1728)—the most important link between the Aristotelian-
scholastic tradition of transcendental thought and the Kantian transcendental
philosophy—literally in accordance with Scotus and Suárez as “that which is
apt to exist, with which existence thus does not conflict”; therefore, the con-
cept of being, as Wolff immediately adds, “absolutely does not include exis-
tence, but only the non-conflict with existence or—what is the same—the
aptitude for existence.”131
128 Ibid., 1.2.27 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 21): “…rationes universales, quas metaphysica considerat,
transcendentales sunt, ita ut in propriis rationibus entium imbibantur;” ibid., 1.4.13 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 29): “…[metaphysica] transcendentales rationes entis declarat, sine
quarum cognitione vix potest in aliqua scientia quippiam exacte tractari.”
129 Ibid., 1.5.23 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 43): “Quoad priorem partem, non dubium est quin haec
doctrina sit omnium certissima.”
130 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 43): “…ea scientia est certissima, quae circa prima principia
maxime versatur, et quae ex paucioribus rem conficit; ita vero se habet haec scientia, quia
talis scientia magis est independens, habetque principia notiora, ex quibus alia principia
robur et certitudinem accipiunt.” Cf. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 1.2.982a30.
131 See Christian Wolff, Philosophia prima sive Ontologia, § 134, Ges. Werke II. Abt. Bd. 3, ed.
Jean Ecole (Hildesheim re-print, 1962), pp. 115f.: “Ens dicitur, quod existere potest,
consequenter cui existentia non repugnat. …Notio entis in genere existentiam minime
involvit, sed saltem non repugnantiam ad existendum, seu, quod perinde est, existendi
possibilitatem.”
Considering this link, a new perspective on the history of Kantian transcen-

dental philosophy arises, from which prevailing interpretations become ques-
tionable. The ontological issues and main ideas that induce the new Kantian
approach are not, as the prevailing view assumes, developed within a supposed
tradition of an ‘Onto-Logic’ of the mere thinkable (cogitabile, possibile logi-
cum). Rather, it is the inquiry into the necessary quidditative conditions of real
existence, developed in the Aristotelian branch of academic philosophy, that
prepares Kant’s transcendental turn and his new approach towards the tradi-
tional question of how metaphysics, as science, is possible.
chapter 5
Suárez and the Baroque Matrix of Modern Thought

Costantino Esposito
1 ‘Baroque Thought’
Scholars now almost universally accept that Francisco Suárez’s metaphysical,

theological, and juridical thought constitutes a source of primary importance
for the rise and development of modern philosophy. Indeed, one could even
say that just such a figure as Suárez reveals the inadequacy of the interpreta-
tion of Renaissance and early modern thought as the mere gesture of breaking
away from the scholastic tradition. One just has to consider the decisive role
played by Jesuit teachings in Europe during the seventeenth century in order
to perceive this tradition as a widely shared structure of thought, thanks, and
only thanks, to which (paradoxically) the so-called ‘moderns’ could be ‘against
it’. The scholastic tradition invented and nourished, in some way, its own ene-
mies, who often took their fundamental concepts directly from it.
Certainly, concepts that are similar can be used in partially—or indeed,
totally—different contexts, and lead to incommensurate results. Yet, at the
same time, one cannot deny that some of the late–scholastic theoretical
options (from gnoseology to metaphysics, from theology to philosophy of law)
lend themselves to being used in the decidedly and programmatically anti–
scholastic perspectives of modern thought. Thus, at times, the conceptual
dependence and debt between the two camps are to be sought not only, and not
primarily, in what they explicitly have in common, but exactly in what most dis-
tinguishes them, as if their close bond persisted sub contrario. And one must not
forget that this direct line between scholastic philosophy and modern thought is
accompanied by, and often merges with, another line of thought, which
divides—and at the same time binds together—the Catholic and Protestant
theological camps, starting from the second half of the sixteenth century.
These forces—at once unitary and conflictual—in which doctrinal differ-
ences and ruptures should always be interpreted on the basis of a continuity
and homogeneity of a metaphysical, or rather ‘ontological’, kind, are what we
have come to call ‘baroque thought’. It has one especially peculiar feature: that
of constituting the theoretical ‘matrix’, or dominant line of thought, for a whole
series of notably divergent, indeed conflicting, philosophical and theological
doctrines. Hence, one could call it a ‘neutral’ matrix, which has represented the
meeting point of a whole era—roughly from the Council of Trent to Kant’s

Suárez And The Baroque Matrix Of Modern Thought 125
critique of eighteenth-century rationalist Schulmetaphysik—because it has

provided the conceptual basis and specific lexis for a variety of competing
theories and conceptions of the world.
One should not be surprised by the fact that we indicate two very different
phenomena as the temporal limits of our historical characterisation of baroque
thought, for there is a fils rouge tying them together: the critical-transcendental
turning point of classical metaphysics, effected by Kant, is undoubtedly the
result of both the early modern contestation and the re-foundation of scholas-
tic ontology. Yet, scholastic ontology, for its part, had already wrought a new
synthesis and a profound ‘metabolisation’ of the divergent tendencies in the
medieval schools within the uninterrupted Aristotelian tradition, in view of a
renewed arrangement of Catholic theology first, and Protestant theology later.
In this historical characterisation of the ‘baroque’, which could ideally be
dated from the 1560s (following the Council of Trent, which concluded in 1563)
to the 1760s (including the publication of Kant’s The Only Possible Argument for
the Demonstration of the Existence of God in 1763), Suárez undoubtedly occu-
pies a key place.
Suárez must always be collocated within the context and tasks required by
his time, which included: (1) the revival of the great legacy of medieval theology
through the systematic reclamation of Aquinas’s Summa theologiae as the doc-
trinal canon of the Roman Catholic Church, especially in contrast to
Lutheranism; (2) the elaboration of a metaphysical discourse, that is, of an
ontology and a natural theology that could serve as the foundations for a
revealed theology; (3) the reflection on the new status of natural law (a kind of
theological-juridical anthropology) and of international law, in order to deal
with problems linked to the spread of Church and State among the indigenous
populations of the New World; and (4) the dissemination of his own teachings,
whether directly or indirectly, in some of the most important Catholic universi-
ties and colleges, and then, surprisingly, even in some of the universities of
Reformation Europe, especially with regard to his new system of ‘metaphysics’.
Yet, apart from looking back, Suárez must also be evaluated by looking
ahead, since it is from him, or through him, that certain threads, which we will
find in the weave of modern thought, begin to unravel. Hence, Suárez forms, as
it were, a crossroads, a place of passage and chiasmus, indeed, an exquisitely
baroque place, in which tradition ‘curves’ in order to form a new horizon of
modernity, and modernity brings with it, shaping it in a new ‘fold’1 and from
unexpected perspectives, the metaphysical tradition of the past. Let us now try
to follow some of these curvatures.
1 Cf. Gilles Deleuze, Le pli. Leibniz et le Baroque (Paris, 1988), pp. 38–54.
126 Esposito
2 From Theology to Philosophy (and Back Again)
Francisco Suárez was never a ‘philosopher’ as such, but only a professional

‘theologian’—and what a theologian! If one takes into account the fact that
from the mid 1570s he was one of the key players not only in the Society of Jesus,
but also along the vaster front of the Roman Catholic Church in the doctrinal
battle with Catholic orthodoxy, his theological orientation becomes more than
obvious. The fact that a theologian would be concerned with philosophy is not,
however, a novelty in the history of medieval thought, to which Suárez, as he
regarded himself, is a true heir. In his case, though, we are faced with a new situ-
ation. On the one hand, he continues the consolidated theological practice in
which philosophy—as a purely rational or natural science—must precede, on
a logical and conceptual level, the ‘sacred doctrine’, that is, the science of
revealed fact. On the other hand, he performs an inverse process that begins
with revealed theology and seeks to elaborate a philosophical doctrine accord-
ing to the order of reason alone, which can absorb and translate, on a purely
natural plane, what mankind has apprehended historically as a fact of faith.
He thus carves a path—whether circular or zigzagging—that goes both
from philosophy to theology and from theology to philosophy. Such an attempt
certainly arises from the intention to fulfil the demands of the Counter
Reformation, with its decisive reaffirmation of the natural (albeit fallen) good-
ness of mankind and the innate ability of reason to grasp the created being of
all reality, as well as its completion through supernatural grace.
At the same time, the way in which Suárez seeks to achieve this goal is by elabo-
rating an independent system (and a treatise) of philosophy, which, while excogi-
tated in the light of sacred doctrine and with a view to serving the latter, can in
principle be conceived and used apart from theology. This is indeed what was
beginning to happen in various European universities, both Catholic and
Protestant, in the seventeenth century, and then more decisively in rationalist
scholasticism of the eighteenth century. Precisely because Suárez’s purpose was to
fulfil a specifically theological task, he was the initiator of an independent and neu-
tral treatment of metaphysics, that which today we would call modern ontology.
In a (perhaps still undervalued) work from 1959 on the fate of metaphysics
from Aquinas to Heidegger, Gustav Siewerth writes that Suárez’s Disputationes
metaphysicae represents the ‘last work’ of scholasticism, precisely because it
demonstrates the dialectic movement between metaphysics and theology, which
constitutes one of the most vital matrices of modern thought.2 It represents,
2 Cf. Gustav Siewerth, “Das Schicksal der Metaphysik von Thomas zu Heidegger,” in Gesammelte
Werke, ed. W. Behler and A. von Stockhausen (Düsseldorf, 1987), vol. 4, pp. 184–185.
moreover, a dramatic and historic turning point. In approaching philosophical

discourse from an acquired, or already fully known, theological presupposi-
tion, one runs the risk of continually reducing what is known through histori-
cal revelation to what can be known through the internal principles of purely
natural knowledge. The consequence of such a move is that one would there-
fore be ‘transferring to philosophy the theological apriority of thought’ (that is,
dogmatic content or depositum fidei) and leaving theology with the mere role
of an ‘apologetic demonstration’ of a revealed datum.3
This is the short circuit between theology and philosophy that Hans Urs von
Balthasar calls ‘the vicious circle, almost without an exit, of neo-scholasticism’,
in which the biblical revelation of God no longer seems to imply the ‘philo-
sophical mystery of being’; and while the latter is reduced to general and neu-
tral principles, theology, for its part, is reduced to an apology in an altogether
clerical sense.4
In effect, Suárez’s first metaphysical gesture consists of assuming the role of
metaphysician, since he is already a theologian; in other words, he represents a
philosopher as a ‘character’, but is a theologian as an ‘interpreter’. The para-
doxical consequence of this procedure is that the more the metaphysical char-
acter has to be represented, in his true nature, as a pure researcher of the
natural reason of being, the more his interpreter has to know already the origin
and ultimate end of every thing. From this perspective, one can fully appreci-
ate the significance of the fact that—as Suárez clearly states at the beginning
of the Disputationes metaphysicae—he had to interrupt his treatment of sacred
doctrine in order to prepare a didactic-systematic instrument for his young
theology students:
…every day I saw more and more clearly the extent to which divine and
supernatural theology needs and requires this human and natural [theol-
ogy]—to such an extent that I did not hesitate to interrupt that unfin-
ished work for a little while in order to give (or, better, restore) to this
metaphysical doctrine its rightful place and standing, as it were. […] In
the present work I am doing philosophy in such a way as to keep always
in mind that our philosophy should be Christian and a servant to divine
theology. I have kept this goal in view, not only in discussing the ques-
tions, but even more so in choosing my views or opinions, inclining
3 Siewerth, Das Schicksal der Metaphysik, p. 260.

4 Cf. Hans Urs von Balthasar, Herrlichkeit, vol. 3.1: Im Raum der Metaphysik, Part 2: Neuzeit
(Einsiedeln, 1965), pp. 386–387.
128 Esposito
toward those which seem to comport better with piety and revealed
doctrine.5
More than just a traditional praeambula fidei in order to understand God’s

supernatural revelation, this ground plan is a veritable hermeneutic circle
from the ratio metaphysica to the depositum fidei. It is a circle that, neverthe-
less, is not perfect, for while it is true that, regarding doctrine, (revealed) theol-
ogy is the starting point and goal of philosophical research, regarding our
knowledge, it is philosophical research that makes possible the determination
and even the ‘fulfilment’ of theological doctrine:
Even though divine and supernatural theology relies on the divine light
and on principles revealed by God, still, because it is perfected by human
discourse and reasoning, it is aided as well by truths known by the natural
light. And it uses those truths as helpers and, so to speak, instruments in
perfecting its own discourses and in illuminating divine truths. Now
among all the natural sciences, the one that ranks first of all and goes by
the name of First Philosophy is especially useful to sacred and supernatu-
ral theology. This is so, both because it comes closest of all of them to the
cognition of divine matters, and also because it explains and confirms
those natural principles which comprehend all things in general and
which in some sense support and undergird every doctrine. […] For these
metaphysical principles and truths fit together with theological conclu-
sions and arguments in such a way that if one takes away knowledge and
complete understanding of the former, then knowledge of the latter must
likewise be greatly undermined.6
5 dm, Ratio et discursus totius operis. Ad lectorem (ed. Vivès, vol. 25): “In dies tamen luce clarius
intuebar, quam illa divina ac supernaturalis Theologia hanc humanam et naturalem desider-
aret ac requireret, adeo ut non dubitaverim illud inchoatum opus paulisper intermittere, quo
huic doctrinae metaphysicae suum quasi locum ac sedem darem, vel potius restituerem. […]
Ita vero in hoc opere philosophum ago, ut semper tamen prae oculis habeam nostram philoso-
phiam debere christianam esse, ac divinae Theologiae ministram. Quem mihi scopum praefixi,
non solum in quaestionibus pertractandis, sed multo magis in sententiis, seu opinionibus seli-
gendis, in eas propendens, quae pietati ac doctrinae revelatae subservire magis viderentur.”
6 Ibid., Prooemium (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 1): “Divina et supernaturalis theologia, quanquam
divino lumine principiisque a Deo revelatis nitatur, quia vero humano discursu et ratiocina-
tione perficitur, veritatibus etiam naturae lumine notis juvatur, eisque ad suos discursus per-
ficiendos, et divinas veritates illustrandas, tanquam ministris et quasi instrumentis utitur.
Inter omnes autem naturales scientias, ea, quae prima omnium est, et nomen primae phi-
losophiae obtinuit, sacrae ac supernaturali theologiae praecipue ministrat. Tum quia ad
Therefore, the task of metaphysics coincides with what is required by revealed

theology, whereas the task of theology is already comprehended—by means of
natural theology—within first philosophy. This was a very important moment
in the ‘baroque’ reorganization of theological doctrine, entailing a new arrange-
ment within philosophy itself. Accordingly, Suárez conceives the relation
between natural theology (or ‘metaphysics’ tout court) and supernatural theol-
ogy on the basis of another, epistemologically pre-existing relation, one
between a more general part of first philosophy (which studies the general con-
cept of being, together with its universal principles) and a special part (which
considers the different kinds of determined or particular beings).
This is the late scholastic—or indeed, ‘modern’—reformulation of the
famous aporia concerning the ‘object’ of first philosophy, which is both the
study of being qua being (and its principles) and the study of the highest form
of being, the ‘divine’ (theologikē epistēmē). The originality of Suárez’s contribu-
tion consists in presenting this reformulation as an editorial system, since he
published the Disputationes metaphysicae in two volumes: the first (Disp. 1–28)
is dedicated to the concept of being and its properties, while the second (Disp.
29–53) is dedicated to the different kinds of determined being, that is, God and
His creatures. With this, the possibility of a revealed theological discourse
comes to depend on the particular interpretation of the name, object, and task
of metaphysics in its ‘general’ part.
In order to understand better what is really at stake in Suárez’s choice, it
might be useful to compare it with the standard interpretation of metaphysics
given by Thomas Aquinas, which is also elaborated from the perspective of a
Christian theologian, but in a very different manner. In his Commentary on
Aristotle’s Metaphysics, Aquinas observes that the term ‘metaphysics’ is prop-
erly assigned to sapientia (as the scientia regulatrix of all other forms of knowl-
edge) in that it takes into consideration the universal principles of intellectual
knowledge, which are being and everything that belongs to it, such as ‘the one
and the many, potency and act’. When this same science instead considers
those entities that are completely separate from sensible matter in their very
being, such as God and the separate intelligences, it is then called ‘divine sci-
ence or theology’. Finally, because this science considers the first causes of
things, it also earns the name ‘first philosophy’.
divinarum rerum cognitionem inter omnes proxime accedit, tum etiam quia ea naturalia
principia explicat atque confirmat, quae res universas comprehendunt, omnemque doctri-
nam quodammodo fulciunt atque sustentant.… Ita enim haec principia et veritates meta-
physicae cum theologicis conclusionibus ac discursibus cohaerent, ut si illorum scientia ac
perfecta cognitio auferatur, horum etiam scientiam nimium labefactari necesse sit.”
130 Esposito
For Aquinas, these three considerations meet in a single science, since the
first causes coincide with the separate substances, while that which they
cause—i.e., being in general (ens commune)—is the only true ‘subject’ (subiec-
tum) of this science. Indeed, knowledge of the causes of this subject is the
result to which this science must lead.7 Aquinas, therefore, highlights—on the
basis of Aristotelian epistemological principles8—an essential difference
between the subject of metaphysics (i.e., being in general, which can also exist
without matter) and the first causes of that subject (i.e., God and the intelligent
substances, which can never exist in matter). This means that, for Aquinas, God
can never be considered simply as the ‘object’ of metaphysics, neither in natu-
ral theology nor in revealed theology. Indeed, on the one hand, the locution
scientia Dei et beatorum is a subjective genitive, indicating the knowledge that
God has of Himself (and of all things) and not the knowledge that we have of
Him; on the other hand, while theologia nostra does consider res divinae, it only
does so in that they manifest themselves through revelation, hence our knowl-
edge only participates through assimilation in the knowledge proper to God.9
But let us return to Suárez. At the beginning of the Disputationes metaphysi-
cae he examines the different names for metaphysics, such as ‘wisdom’, ‘pru-
dence’, ‘philosophy’, ‘first philosophy’, and ‘natural theology’, taking all of them
from different passages in Aristotle’s Metaphysics. The last name, in particular,
constitutes the linchpin around which the redefinition of this science turns:
naturalis theologia “deals with God and divine things insofar as this is possible
in the light of nature.” And for the same reason it is also properly called meta-
physics, “as if it were constituted after physics or beyond physics” (quasi post
physicam, seu ultra physicam constituta), both in the so-called ‘subjective’
sense, in that it considers those things discovered after physical things, and in
7 Thomas de Aquino, In Metaph, ed. R.M Cathala and R. Spiazzi, “Prooemium”: “Ex quo appa-
ret, quod quamvis ista scientia praedicta tria consideret, non tamen considerat quodlibet
eorum ut subiectum, sed ipsum solum ens commune. Hoc enim est subiectum in scientia,
cuius causas et passiones quaerimus, non autem ipsae causae alicuius generis quaesiti. Nam
cognitio causarum alicuius generis, est finis ad quem consideratio scientiae pertingit.” On the
problem of the relation between the ‘subject’ and ‘object’ of metaphysics in the trajectory
Aristotle-Avicenna-Aquinas, see Jean–François Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphy-
sique (Paris, 1990), part I, cc. 1–2; Pasquale Porro, “Tommaso d’Aquino, Avicenna e la struttura
della metafisica,” in Tommaso d’Aquino e l’oggetto della metafisica, ed., S.L. Brock (Rome,
2004), pp. 65–87.
8 For the epistemological principles of Aristotelean science, see Posterior Analytics 76b11ff.
9 On the relation between the theology of philosophers (scientia divina), true divine knowledge
(scientia Dei et beatorum), and the theology of revelation (sacra doctrina), cf. Thomas de Aquino,
Super Boetium de Trinitate, q. 2, a. 2,; ibid., q. 5, a. 4, ad 5; st I, q. 1, a. 2; ibid., I, q. 1, a. 6, ad 1.
the ‘objective’ sense (ex parte obiecti), in that it deals with “the things that
come after physical or natural things, because they go beyond the order of
these and are constituted at a higher level of reality.” So this science, as Aristotle
says, will be princeps et domina with regard to all the others, “because it sur-
passes them in dignity and, in some way, establishes and confirms the princi-
ples of all the others.”10
Yet if metaphysics indicates primarily ‘natural theology’ and deals with the
highest level of reality, this means that the concept of God cannot be consid-
ered only as the cause of the object of metaphysics (being), but must itself fall
directly within the object of this science. For this to be possible, God Himself
must be considered, first and foremost, as a being, which presupposes the rea-
son of ‘being as such’. The ratio of supreme being—the ipsum esse subsistens,
or universal cause of being, of which Aquinas speaks—can be traced back to
the ratio entis in quantum ens along a precise genealogy that begins with
Avicenna and, passing through Henry of Ghent and Duns Scotus, comes to
Suárez (and, as we know, continues beyond the Spanish Jesuit, at least to Wolff
and the eighteenth-century Schulmetaphysik).
This ratio entis is literally absolute, since it precedes—as an ‘objective’ con-
cept—both creator and creatures (that is, determined beings), letting us think
of them both simply as beings, and not, in the first instance, as in a relation
among themselves. Since Suárez characterises metaphysics as natural theology
(in view of revealed theology), he is obliged to base it on a preliminary ‘ontol-
ogy’ (even though this term is not used in the dm).11
3 Metaphysics and the Connective Tissue of Being
A metaphysics thus ‘programmed’ in an ontological sense can only have ens in

quantum ens reale as its ‘adequate object’ (adaequatum obiectum). This is a
minimal and abstract concept that contains everything, except for merely acci-
dental beings and ‘beings of reason’ (even though Suárez will eventually
include them in the dm). Beyond real substances and accidents, ‘being as such’
(ens ut sic) also includes God and immaterial substances. God’s is a strange
metaphysical fate. On the one hand, He is the principle of all beings, and in this
10 dm 1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 2): “Varia metaphysicae nomina.”

11 In the most recent research, the first occurrence of the word ‘ontology’ is found in Ogdoas
scolastica (1606) by the Calvinist theologian and metaphysician Jakob Lorhard, or
Lorhardus; see Marco Lamanna, “Sulla prima occorrenza del termine ‘ontologia’. Una nota
bibliografica,” Quaestio. Yearbook of the History of Metaphysics 6 (2006): 557–570.
132 Esposito
sense Suárez labels Him as praecipuus obiectus, the primary object of meta-
physics. Yet, on the other hand, He is included ‘in a precise sense’ (praecise)
within the ratio entis ut sic. In this case, therefore, it is as if the consideration of
being ‘as such’ (ut sic) prescinded from a creatural relation, distanced itself
from all generation (though post factum, since every being is what it is because
it is created) and, in some way, reabsorbed in itself both origin and provenance.
In other words, being is to be understood by abstracting it from its relation
with the creator, even though, obviously, Suárez the theologian always pres-
ents this interpretation of being as a hypothesis, or better, as a merely logical-
conceptual fictio.
In effect, how could a simple philosophical abstraction ever compromise
God’s priority? While it does not compromise His position at the summit of the
whole system, it definitely compromises His presence within the thinkability of
being. God creates being, true, but given that metaphysics must abstract from
its datum, being can indeed be thought of in an absolute sense (absolute) apart
from God, even though one must continue to recognise God as the most impor-
tant ‘contraction’ or ‘determination’ of this being. Suárez writes:
God belongs to this science, not only as the cause of the object of meta-
physics, but also as its principal part […] Since God is an object [that is]
knowable naturally in some way […] He can fall within the sphere of a
natural science, not only as extrinsic principle, but also as principal
object: […] so God falls, in an absolute sense, under the object of this
science.12
As an extrinsic principle, He is the real cause; as the principal object, He is

under the formal principle of noesis, that is, logical non-contradiction.
‘Knowableness’ thus becomes the measure of the relation to God, no longer
considered God as such, but as ens—indeed, the supreme ens. Knowledge has
thus definitively fixed God’s place (and, by God, what a place!) within and
under being.
Yet with the interruption of the original and constitutive nexus between ens
commune and its first cause (an interruption only on a metaphysical and not
on a physical or theological-revealed level), even the concept of being has a
12 dm 1.1.19 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 8–9): “Deus non solum ut causa obiecti metaphysicae, sed
etiam ut pars illius praecipua ad hanc scientiam pertinet. […] Nam Deus est obiectum
naturaliter scibile alioquo modo […]; ergo potest cadere sub aliquam naturalem scien-
tiam, non solo ut principium extrinsecum, sed etiam ut obiectum praecipuum […] ergo
absolute Deus cadit sub obiectum huius scientiae.”
different meaning from that in Aquinas. For the latter, being does indeed sig-
nify that which is divided into ten genera and that which indicates the truth of
a proposition, but also, and above all, it signifies (in its primary meaning) the
derivative of the verb esse in virtue of an actus essendi.13 For Suárez, on the
other hand, the primary meaning of being is that of ‘thing’ (res), in the sense of
‘essence’ or ‘quiddity’. Being is only that which is, irrespective of the provenance
or derivation of its being. Starting from this point, one can (or must) also think
of the relation between that which is and the subsisting being (or God), but
this is only done afterwards, in a second moment, as an addition with regard to
the primary meaning of being, which remains the key to open (or close, if you
like) the total mystery of the sense of being. The basic consequence of this
structuring of the ‘object’ of metaphysics is its unity, or oneness. The mental act
with which we think of being (what Suárez calls the ‘formal concept’) forms a
single, indivisible content, and is gathered in it, as the objective concept:
I say, then […] that to the formal concept of being corresponds a single
objective concept, adequate and immediate, which does not expressly
state either substance or accident, God or creature, but all these things as
one, in other words, since they are in some way similar and converge in
being.14
So this is literally a neutral concept. On the one hand, being is a ‘general’ con-
cept, the simplest reason for everything, and therefore excludes all diversity
(that is, being this or that thing, since every determination and diversity always
requires the addition of something to the abstract reason of ‘beingness’). Yet,
on the other hand, it is also included in all possible objects, even in God, which
present themselves as the contractions or specifications of being.
Being is thus grasped and defined as ‘object’; or rather, it delineates the hori-
zon of an ‘object-ness’ in general, which precedes the existence itself of the object
and is identified as the mere possibility of its knowable essence.15 The concept of
being qua being is intended as a ratio that connects and comprehends all things,
13 Cf. for example, Thomas Aquinas, De ente et essentia, c. 1; In I Sent., d. 1, q. 1; Summa contra
gentiles I, c. 25, n. 10; In Metaph., l. IV, lect. 2, n. 553.
14 dm 2.2.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 72): “Dico ergo […], conceptui formali entis respondere
unum conceptum obiectivum adaequatum, et immediatum, qui expresse non dicit sub-
stantiam, neque accidens, neque Deum, nec creaturam, sed haec omnia per modum
unius, scilicet quatenus sunt inter se aliquo modo similia, et conveniunt in essendo.”
15 On Suárez’s concept of being as ‘an objectness without an object’, see Courtine, Suarez et
le système de la métaphysique, pp. 157 sq. (the expression comes from André de Muralt).
134 Esposito
both finite and infinite, creatures and creator, to the extent that it becomes a veri-
table ‘fabricatio universalitatis’ (dm 6.6.12). In this sense it is transcendens, not
only because it is trans-genus and trans-category (i.e., indeterminable in any
predication, but preceding and founding every category), but also because it can
be something, in the minimal sense in which something ‘is’ (being), in contrast to
being (or being opposed to) nothing. Such a ratio entis (objective since it is for-
mal) grasps the similitudo and convenientia that all real beings possess in their
raison d’être, and so they all convene:
…just as being and non-being are diverse and opposed primarily among
themselves—the reason why we say that the very first principle is the one
according to which something is or is not—in the same way, any being
possesses a certain congruence or resemblance to any other being, since
our intellect finds more congruence between substance and accident
than between substance and non-being or nothing (nihil). Even the crea-
ture participates, in a certain way, in the being of God and so we say that
it is, through some congruence or resemblance in being, at least the ves-
tige of God….16
Yet here we notice a ‘jump’ between the two orders: the congruence between
all beings—including God—is based essentially on the minimal reason of not
being nothing, and only this can make the ‘positive’ participation of the crea-
ture (vestigium) in God thinkable (at least in a purely metaphysical sense).
4 Being and its ‘Inferiors’: Distinction, Inclusion, Analogy
Already with regard to the formal concept of ens, and then even more so with
regard to the objective concept, a problem emerges regarding the relation
between the transcendental concept (transcendens) of being and beings that
convene in virtue of this concept. In short, this is a problem of the relation
between the formal-objective unity of the concept of being, and its analogical
16 dm 2.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 74): “…nam, sicut ens et non ens sunt primo diversa et
opposita, propter quod dicitur esse primum principium omnium, quodlibet esse vel non
esse, ita quodlibet ens habet aliquam convenientiam, et similitudinem cum quolibet ente;
majorem enim convenientiam invenit intellectus inter substantiam et accidens, quam
inter substantiam et non ens seu nihil; creatura etiam participat aliquo modo esse Dei, et
ideo dicitur saltem esse vestigium ejus propter aliquam convenientiam et similitudinem
in essendo.”
inclusion and predication in determined beings. Suárez’s preference is imme-

diately given to the analogy of intrinsic attribution:
…the analogy of being does not consist in some form, present intrinsi-
cally in just one of the analogues, and extrinsically in all the others;
rather, it consists in a being, or entity, participated in by all of them
intrinsically, and so it is in this reason that all things convene in reality,
and consequently, they possess an objective unity in the reason of being.17
From this derives a twofold consideration of the relation between the general
concept of being and the concept of determined beings. On the one hand,
there is an intellectual distinction between the objective concept of being and
all the particular reasons of being (for example, the reason of substance or
accident); on the other hand, we find a real indistinction between the concept
of being and the inferiora in which, from time to time, it exists.18 In other
words, the problem lies in establishing what is the least possible distinction
present in things, whether beyond the “perfect real distinction between recip-
rocally separable beings, there can be found in things—prior to [being found]
in the intellect—another minor distinction, which is what usually subsists
between a thing and its mode;”19 that is, whether being a determined thing is
really a distinct mode from the thing itself (as when we say, for example, that
the substance adds to the being a mode that the being in itself does not
express). In an opinion that Suárez attributes to Duns Scotus and the Scotists,
“being expresses an objective concept, distinct and precise, in reality, from all
the inferiors, however simple they are, such as substance, accident and so
on.”20 For Suárez, on the other hand, “one must affirm that the objective con-
cept of being, since it exists in reality itself, is not something distinct and pre-
cise, in reality, from the inferiors in which it exists.”21
17 Ibid., 2.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 75): “…analogia entis non est in aliqua forma, quae intrin-
sece tantum sit in uno analogato et extrinsece in aliis, sed in esse seu entitate quae intrin-
sece participatur ab omnibus; in illa ergo ratione habent omnia realem convenientiam, et
consequenter unitatem objectivam in ratione entis.”
18 Cf. ibid., 2.2.15ff, ibid., 2.3.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 75–76, 83).
19 Ibid., 2.3.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 82): “…supponendo, praeter distinctionem realem perfec-
tam, quae intercedit inter entitates mutuo separabiles, posse in rebus ante intellectum
aliam minorem inveniri, qualis esse solet inter rem et modum rei….”
20 Cf. ibid., 2.3.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 83). Here Suárez refers to John Duns Scotus, In I Sent.,
d. 3, qq. 1 e 3; ibid., d. 8, q. 2; In II Sent., d. 3, q. 1.
21 Ibid., 2.3.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 83): “…dicendum est, conceptum entis objectivum prout
in re ipsa existit, non esse aliquid ex natura rei distinctum ac praecisum ab inferioribus in
quibus existit.”
136 Esposito
This is one of Suárez’s most typical theses, and has been largely validated by
posterity. The primary notion of being, at least in metaphysics, is not particip-
ial, which refers to the actual existence of a thing (‘something existing in act’),
but nominal, which indicates a “real essence, that is, not invented nor illusory,
but rather true and apt to exist really.”22
So what does ‘real essence’ mean? (1) In a negative sense, “real essence is that
which does not entail any contradiction, nor is it a mere invention of the intel-
lect” (quae in sese nullam involvit repugnantiam, neque est mere conficta per
intellectum). (2) In a positive sense, it is a posteriori “the principle or the root of
real operations or effects” (principium vel radix realium operationum, vel effec-
tuum), and a priori “real essence is that which can be really produced by God
and can be constituted in the being of an actual being” (dicimus essentiam esse
realem, quae a Deo realiter produci potest, et constitui in esse entis actualis).23
This carries two important consequences. The first is that, for Suárez, the
metaphysical relation essence-existence (ens nomen-ens participium) is abso-
lutely not to be identified with the relation potency-act, since already in ‘being’
as a noun—that is, as a real essence—are included not only being in potency
(the concept of a real being still without existence), but also being in act, to the
extent that the notion of essence is virtually ‘determined’ or ‘apt’ to actual exis-
tence.24 The second consequence is that being, intended metaphysically as a
noun, is an essential predicate of every determined being: “it is predicated, in a
quiddative sense, of its inferiors,” and certainly not ‘absolutely’ (in which case
it could only be predicated of God), but relatively, of its being as creature:
…so, even though being in act does not belong to the essence of a crea-
ture, nevertheless, the order of being or the aptitude for existence belongs
intrinsically and essentially to its concept, and in this way, being is an
essential predicate.25
This solution to the problem of the relation between the concept of being and
its inferiors leads Suárez to establish the relation between creature and creator
as a particular or special determination of the more fundamental relation
22 Ibid., 2.4.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 89): “…si ens sumatur prout est significatum hujus vocis in
vi nominis sumptae, ejus ratio consistit in hoc, quod sit habens essentiam realem, id est
non fictam, nec chymericam, sed veram et aptam ad realiter existendum.”
24 Cf. ibid., 2.4.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 91).
25 Ibid., 2.4.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 92): “…quamvis ergo actu esse non sit de essentia crea-
turae, tamen ordo ad esse, vel aptitudo essendi est de intrinseco et essentiali conceptu
ejus; atque hoc modo ens praedicatum est essentiale” (my italics).
between a particular determination of (or a secondary addition to) the meta-

physical constitution of every being (in this case, the being-creator or the
being-created) and a being instead considered in itself, only as a being:
…it seems clear that the creature, in that it is a being, does not come to be
defined through the creator, or the being of God, but through its being as
such, and because it exists outside of nothingness: if indeed the relation
to God were added to it, by saying, for example, that the creature is a
being in virtue of its participation in divine being, then already the crea-
ture could no longer be defined as a being, but only as a determined
being, in that it is created. Finally, by now it has already been shown that
being is expressed with a single concept for everything that is contained
in it, and that the reason for being that is expressed in creatures can con-
stitute the starting point for finding a similar reason, existing in a more
elevated way, in the creator too.26
Certainly the theologian knows well that every being exists in that it is caused
in its being by God, hence in the extent to which it is constituted in a relation
of dependence on something other than itself. However, for the metaphysi-
cian, this relation can—indeed must—be suspended; in order to conceive
being, one must no longer think of it necessarily and intrinsically as a relation.
Only thanks to this absolute concept of being can one subsequently find a simi-
larity between creator and creature, but then it will be too late to retrieve this
relation at the origin of the concept itself of being. Nevertheless, one must not
forget that the metaphysical pre-eminence of the concept of being as such, as
opposed to the concept of creature-creator, has the sole purpose, for Suárez, of
safeguarding (paradoxically) the very order of creation as possible and think-
able on the basis of natural reason.
5 The Invention of ‘Pure Nature’
Here the matrix of ‘baroque’ metaphysics again reveals itself, imbued more-
over with the anti-Lutheran motivations elaborated by the Council of Trent,
26 Ibid., 28.3.15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 18): “Item constat, creaturam, ut ens est, non definiri per
creatorem aut per esse Dei, sed esse ut sic, et quia est extra nihil; nam si addatur habitudo
ad Deum, verbi gratia, creaturam esse ens, quia est participatio divini esse, sic non iam
definitur creatura, ut ens est, sed ut tale ens est, nimirum creatum. Denique iam supra
ostensum est, ens uno conceptu dici de omnibus sub illo contentis, et rationem entis in
138 Esposito
which sought to re-propose the classical ‘congruence’ between Catholic theol-

ogy and natural metaphysics, by means of a systematic metaphysical re-
foundation of theological discourse. In particular, Reformation theology had
opened up a rift between the natural and the supernatural, between the cre-
ated world and the transcendence of the Creator, between logical possibility
and revealed fact, all of which had to be mended.
The way in which Suárez recomposes or mends this rift is especially worthy
of note. He reaffirms the concordance between natural thought and the deposi-
tum fidei, while holding fast to the question raised by Luther about the radical
separation between God and the world, and the unfathomable difference
between the natural and the supernatural. In the Catholic response (at least, as
proposed by Suárez), the way to safeguard this difference is not to set grace
against a nature conceived in terms of an absolute fall and definitive decadence,
but rather to think of an intermediate structure—a so-called ‘pure nature’—
which allows us to determine afresh the nexus between grace and natura lapsa.
In other words, a ‘heuristic’ structure needed to be elaborated, which would
allow the connection between these two irreducibly disconnected planes.
From a Lutheran theological perspective, the gap between the natural and the
supernatural could be filled only by the inscrutable action of divine grace,
which could only be conceived by man through faith (solo fide), but which
could no longer be ‘thought’ within the terms of a metaphysical discourse.
Suárez tries, instead, to think of another nature, one not dominated by sin,
which in principle—or better, as a hypothesis—does not need grace (hence it
is pure nature), and with regard to which divine grace is effectively free, that is,
not a must.
The question is developed by Suárez in the De legibus, especially in his treat-
ment of natural law. For Suárez, in order to comprehend the concept of natural
law, one has to consider that human life is oriented toward an ultimate goal
that is not single but dual, both natural and supernatural. The pre-Christian
philosophers “did not recognize a supernatural end for man, but only treated
of a certain happiness in this life, or better, of a condition conducive to spend-
ing it in peace and justice.” As a consequence, they conceived laws “only with a
view to this end,” and only distinguished between ‘natural law’ and ‘human
law’ (the latter in the sense of ‘civil law’):
But since faith teaches that all men are oriented toward the supernatural
goal of a future life, to be pursued with adequate means, then rightly
creaturis inventam posse esse initium inveniendi similem rationem altiori modo in cre-
atore existentem.”
sacred theology concludes that this natural law is necessary for a very dif-
ferent motive, and that men need different positive laws with respect to
those which philosophers have managed to determine.27
It is important to underline that, for Suárez, the passage from an exclusively

natural order in human life to a supernatural one does not entail the former
being overcome by the latter, but rather, it entails maintaining—on a hypo-
thetical level, as a mental experiment—a merely natural plane, distinct from
the plane of an effectively existing nature; unlike the latter, it does not require
supernatural grace in order to be complete and perfect. Man’s natural condi-
tion, therefore, is not only distinguished from the action of grace, but is dou-
bled, in its turn, into two states of nature. The first is indifferent to grace, while
the second is oriented and predisposed to it.
This requires that man himself be considered in a double register (secundum
duplicem naturam et duplex rationis lumen). In the first, man must be consid-
ered in his pure nature, that is, in his substance as a rational soul, hence in the
light of a reason that is innate to that substance (secundum puram naturam
seu substantiam animae rationalis et consequenter secundum rationis lumen illi
connaturale); in the second, however, man must be considered according to
the nature of grace, which infuses him from above, hence in the divine and
supernatural light of faith, guiding and governing his earthly life (iuxta naturam
gratiae desuper homini infusae et secundum divinum ac supernaturale lumen
fidei per quod pro statu viae regitur et gubernatur).28 So, on the one hand, there
would seem to be a decisive metaphysical ‘jump’ between the two orders
(nature-grace), while on the other hand, these orders belong together in a
deeper way than might at first appear:
One can distinguish, therefore, a twofold natural law, one purely natural,
the other simply supernatural but nevertheless natural in a certain sense,
that is, in relation to grace. So, while even pure natural law is divine, since
it emanates from God, the natural law of the divine order is much more
divine. The former [pure natural law] comes from God through nature,
from which it emanates as a property; the latter, on the other hand, comes
27 De leg., 1.3.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 10; Pereña, vol. 1, pp. 46–47): “At vero cum fides doceat
homines ad finem supernaturalem vitae futurae per convenientia media in hac vita
exequenda ordinari, recte sacra theologia infert longe aliter esse necessariam hanc legem
naturalem et pluribus legibus positivis homines indigere, quam iidem philosophi fuerint
assecuti.”
28 Cf. ibid., 1.3.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 10; Pereña, vol. 1, p. 47).
140 Esposito
from God, who instils grace and casts a supernatural light in order to
direct men in the observance of the dictates of this law, with the help of
stimulating and adjuvant grace […] And so, one can say that both laws
are innate to the human race.29
Yet precisely because both derive from God and so both are innate to the
human race, the relation between purely natural law and natural law through
grace allows us to think of a twofold order: a pure nature and a pure grace,
which are indeed coordinated, but also conceivable ab origine in terms of their
discreteness.
This twofold system can be verified in Suárez’s treatise De gratia, especially
in the Prolegomenon entitled De statibus humanae naturae.30 The initial prob-
lem here is whether man was created in a state of pure nature in order to have
a supernatural end (An possit homo in statu purae naturae creari, in ordine ad
finem supernaturalem).31 This is a strange question for a Catholic theologian,
who begins from a point of knowledge of the gift and intercession of super-
natural grace! Nevertheless, in this case too, Suárez poses the question just
hypothetically, with a precise apologetic intention (against the Pelagian theory
that all nature is already predisposed and destined in itself for grace) and in
order to emphasise the complete detachment of absolutely free divine action,
in contrast to what is due by nature to nature (not only in the face of the chal-
lenge represented by the Protestant Reformation, but also in the light of the
famous de auxiliis controversy between Jesuits and Dominicans, on the aid
given by divine grace to human freedom).
29 Ibid., 1.3.12-13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 5, p. 10; Pereña, vol. 1, pp. 47–48): “Si ergo lex naturalis duplex
distingui potest: una pure naturalis, alia simpliciter supernaturalis; naturalis autem
respective per comparationem ad gratiam; unde cum lex naturalis etiam pura divina sit,
quia a Deo manat, multo magis lex naturalis divini ordinis divina est; nam prior est a Deo
mediante nastura a qua manat, tanquam proprietas eius; posterior autem est a Deo per se
infundente gratiam et ipsum supernaturale lumen ac actualiter etiam dirigente homines
ad dictamiana illius legis perficienda per auxilia gratiae excitantis et adiuvantis. Denique
utraque lex dici potest connaturalis generi humano” (my italics).
30 The elaboration of a treatise on grace dates to the courses held at the Collegio Romano in
the early 1580s and to those held in Coimbra at the end of the 1590s, which were published
posthumously between 1619 and 1621. In the Vivès edition, the Tractatus de gratia Dei seu
de Deo salvatore, iustificatore, et liberi arbitrii adiutore per gratiam suam takes up four vol-
umes (from nn. 7–10), with a fifth volume (n. 11) of theological pamphlets that deal with,
among other things, the fundamental points of the so-called de auxiliis controversy, on
the efficacious help given by God to human freedom.
31 De gratia, prol.4.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 179).
Among the different distinctions that can be made between the states of
human nature, the first is that between status viae and status patriae. However,
this distinction is not taken into consideration directly, since what interests
Suárez is not so much our beatitude in heaven as the progress of our life on
earth. In order to understand this progress, says Suárez, theologians refer to a
second distinction, that between status naturae integrae and status naturae
lapsae. Yet a third distinction is also possible—and here Suárez is accompa-
nied by Gaetano Thiene and the ‘more recent theologians’—in which we do
not begin from the states that “human nature has in fact assumed at different
times” (in diversis temporibus de facto habuit humana natura), and instead, “we
suppose that none of these is a state of pure nature” (supponimus autem neu-
trum illorum esse statum purae naturae). Considered as a mere hypothesis, the
status purae naturae comes before the other two pairs, since in the latter some-
thing is always added—namely, God’s grace—which they lack in principle.
And so:
…even though this state [of pure nature] has not in fact been verified, as
I take for granted and as will be shown by sound doctrine in the follow-
ing, one can nevertheless think of it as possible; indeed, it will have to be
taken into consideration in order to understand the other states, since
this state effectively constitutes the basis of the others.
Given its fundamental role, therefore, and in view of the whole doctrinal sys-
tem, the hypothetical state of pure nature is treated before the others, and “only
after can one speak of the other two and the various members into which they
can be subdivided.”32
The status purae naturae, furthermore, can be understood in two ways, one
positive and one negative. In a positive sense, this state is one in which human
nature possesses an essential perfection, and so all of its natural faculties are in
concurrence with the divine, that is, there is divine providence that by nature
belongs to it, in other words, which is naturally due to it (concursum ac providen-
tiam Dei sibi naturaliter debitam). In this case, pure nature is simple created nature.
But this state may also be understood in a negative sense, in the hypothesis that
32 Ibid., prol.4.1.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 179): “…et ideo Cajetan. et moderniores theologi ter-
tium considerarunt statum, quem pure naturalium appellarunt, qui, licet de facto non fue-
rit, ut suppono, et infra juxta sanam doctrinam ostendam, cogitari tamen potest ut
possibilis, et illius consideratio ad aliorum intelligentiam necessaria est, quia revera hic
status est veluti aliorum fundamentum; ideoque de illo in primis dicendum est; postea vero
de aliis duobus, et de variis membris in quae subdividi possunt, disseremus” (my italics).
142 Esposito
there is nothing ‘added’ to it, that is, there is nothing that is not due to nature itself
(nihil naturae superadditum, ei non debitum). So the latter would literally be
above—or better, below—good and evil (sive malum, sive bonum), in other words,
it would be a nature without sin and without punishment (ut nec peccatum
habeat, nec, quod est consequens, reatum poenae). But, above all, it entails a nature
untouched by the blessings of grace, since grace itself would be something not
due to nature (hence the hypothesis is ‘negative’); it would be a perfection or com-
pletion that nature does not require per se (neque etiam affecta sit aliquibus gratiae
donis, aut perfectionibus naturae non debitis).
Especially indicative of Suárez’s position is the fact that the ‘positive’ con-
sideration of the state of pure nature—that is, being simply created in nature—
does not constitute a problem (nulla est quaestio), and so is taken to be an
obvious, accepted fact. Instead, what interests him as a problem is just the
‘negative’ meaning of puritas naturalis, that is, the puritas which only expresses
a negation.33
We can summarise the question as follows: can human nature be created
pure, that is to say, completely without supernatural blessings or the ability to
attain, through adequate means, those blessings of grace; in other words, can
human nature have its own end?34 The process suggested by Suárez is circular,
or rather, zig-zagging: (a) one begins with the standard theological proofs of
sacred doctrine (human nature created and redeemed by grace); (b) one goes
backwards from this position and hypothesises their absence as facta, while
restricting created nature to pure nature, to which grace is not due; (c) one can
now return to understanding supernatural action in its absolute gratuitous-
ness with regard to mere nature.
Regarding a: One begins with the affirmation that God could never create
human nature without ordaining its ultimate goal, and so man could never be
created—“etiam de potentia absoluta”–without an “appetitus innatus” or
—“pondus naturae ad videndum Deum”—since this desire and this basic ten-
dency (the true gravitas of human existence, as Augustine reveals in speaking of
the disquiet in man’s heart) are not really distinct from nature itself, which can-
not therefore be created without them: “non ergo potest condi natura sine illo.”35
33 Cf. ibid., prol.4.1.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, pp. 179–180).

34 Ibid., prol.4.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 180): “Et ita quaerimus an possit humana natura ita
pura creari, ut his donis supernaturalibus, et potestate proxima ad illa comparanda,
omnino careat.” It is this capacity that, in a technical sense, is called potestas proxima in
order to distinguish it from potestas remota, which coincides with the capacity for obedi-
ence inherent in human nature.
35 Cf. ibid., prol.4.1.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 181).
Regarding b: If it is true that pure nature is in itself neutral with regard to an

ultimate goal, then one must admit that the action of supernatural grace is nec-
essary for nature, and so one would have to refute the hypothesis of a pure nature.
Regarding c: This refutation, however, would carry a greater risk, as repre-
sented by the Pelagians’ position (in particular that of Michael Baius): the gift
of grace would be inherent in human nature itself, which would mean that
eternal life would simply be innate.36
Accordingly, the object of the theological debate, as Suárez presents it, is to
question the fundamental nexus between nature and grace, between the sim-
ply natural and the supernatural, in order to avoid the danger of the latter
being assimilated by the former. And this is the paradoxical solution that he
proposes: to dissolve, at least hypothetically, the constitutive nexus between
man and his ultimate goal, and to reconstruct a state in puris naturalibus in
order to emphasise the absolute difference of the supernaturalis.
This is a paradoxical solution, as mentioned above, because in rebutting the
self-sufficient naturalism of the Pelagian heresy, Suárez makes a substantial con-
cession with regard to the thinkability of the purity of nature. For the Pelagians,
purity means, in a positive sense, self-sufficiency (i.e., nature would be capable,
in itself, of grace, which would thus be due to it). For Suárez, on the other hand,
purity means, in a negative sense, the non-necessity of grace, and so its necessary
gratuitousness with regard to nature. Yet both arguments hinge on the same con-
cept, which the Pelagians consider as real and Suárez as merely hypothetical.
To ‘undo’ the Pelagian error, therefore, and provide a sounder reason for
many of the dogmas concerning divine grace (“Hoc existimo esse necessarium
fundamentum ad evertendum errorem Pelagii, et ad reddendam solidam ratio-
nem plurium dogmatum de divina gratia”) one must affirm that eternal happi-
ness (beatitudo), for which man was created and which he is promised as a
reward for his merits (merces meritorum), is simply and absolutely supernatu-
ral (“simpliciter et absolute supernaturalem esse”). Man’s ultimate goal, his eter-
nal happiness, is not a goal of human nature in itself, but is beyond it and is
prepared by supernatural providence (“supra naturam hominis est, et ex super-
naturalis providentia praeparatur”).37
36 Ibid., prol.4.1.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 181): “Inter assertionem autem Michaelis Baji, aliquas
invenio ex quibus colligi potest illum sensisse vitam aeternam esse homini connaturalem,
et quasi jure naturae debitam. Hinc enim dixisse videtur ad meritum vitae aeternae non
esse necessariam gratiam adoptionis, sed solum ut homo legis opera faciat.”
37 Ibid., prol.4.1.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 182), where we read again: “Illa ergo beatitudo supra
naturam hominis existit, ut est quaedam formalis hominis perfectio, et consequenter
etiam, ut est finis ultimus, supernaturalis est: nam beatitudo et finis ultimus idem sunt.”
144 Esposito
Suárez refers here to Thomas Aquinas and his doctrine of man’s twofold
ultimate goal. One goal is natural—or better, in the Aristotelian sense, inher-
ent in man’s intellectual nature—to which he tends through the impetus of his
own nature, while the other exceeds nature, and is received through grace.
Since the latter coincides with celestial happiness—i.e., with something super-
natural—it must be said that if man is ordained to achieve such happiness—i.e.,
if he is created for this ultimate supernatural goal—this is not to be ascribed to
his own nature (“non esse ex naturae debito”), but comes from God’s free and
amorous will (“sed ex gratuita dilectione et voluntate Dei”).38
However, as often happens in Suárez’s work, the explicit reference to
Aquinas brings a silent (but appreciable) change of perspective. In my opin-
ion, what is weakened, or indeed lost, in Suárez’s reading is the fact that in
Aquinas, the natural and the supernatural are conceived as a constitutive rela-
tion, not reducible either to a system of separateness or to one of inclusion; the
difference and surplus between them (or, more precisely, of grace with regard
to nature) does not mean that each can be thought without the other, but the
opposite: the very difference of the supernatural comes to constitute the iden-
tity of the natural, without being annulled by it. For Suárez, on the other hand,
it would seem that separation must precede this relation, which in turn must
be understood as the addition of one term to another.39
As Suárez himself admits, man was created de facto for a supernatural goal,
and so he was created in grace (omnis creatura intellectualis in gratia creata
est).40 Certainly, he can lose his original sanctity through sin, as does Adam,
but this confirms that he was never created in a state of pure nature, nor can he
ever achieve it, since from an original state of grace (attested by the fact that
he tends toward a supernatural goal), man does not pass to a state of pure
nature, but to one of sin; and vice versa, from a state of sin, man does not pass
to a state of pure nature, but returns to one of grace. So “as regards ordinary
law, the rational creature cannot be, except in grace or in sin; hence not in pure
nature.” However, for Suárez, the hypothesis of pure nature is too important,
in view of a redefinition of the role of grace, to be jettisoned in virtue of the
38 Cf. ibid., prol.4.1.10-11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 182). For Thomas, see, for instance, st I, q. 23, a. 1.
39 On this question, see the following two classic studies: Henri de Lubac, Surnaturel. Études
historiques (Paris, 1946), c. 5, and Michel Bastit, Naissance de la loi moderne. La pensée de
la loi de st. Thomas à Suárez (Paris, 1990), part III.
40 De gratia, prol.4.1.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 183): “…dicendum est primo, de facto nullam crea-
turam intellectualem fuisse aut existisse unquam in puris naturalibus conditam, cum solo
ordinem ad connaturalem finem, imo neque esse posse secundum legem ordinariam a
Deo statutam” (my italics).
primary theological acquisition of de facto creation. There is, though, another

possibility—at least de iure—that cannot be excluded:
God could have created man in a purely natural order with respect to his
ultimate goal, without thereby changing his nature, that is, without deny-
ing man anything to which he is entitled because of his nature […] what
God has indeed given to man, beyond pure nature, is grace, and so He
could also not have given [him] grace, while still conserving the other
laws of nature.41
So if God wanted (si velit), He could create, and also complete, only this natural
capacity, and not give man anything that requires faith and grace (or rather,
the mere capacitas oboedentialis) as its basis. On the one hand, “grace is not
due to nature” (gratia non est naturae debita), but on the other hand, even if
“human nature lacked grace, it would not be without anything that is its due”
(licet humana natura illa careret, nulla re sibi debita privaretur).42
In order to save the transcendent irreducibility of grace, Suárez leads us to
think that, even though man was created for some kind of happiness and ulti-
mate goal, he was not necessarily created for a happiness that is more than
natural, and so is not necessarily lacking a supernatural happiness (what
Suárez calls here ‘clara visio Dei’). In short, he could have been created in a state
of pure nature, without the appetitum naturalis ad videndum Deum.43 The ratio
a priori for this lies in the fact that there is no active, or passive, natural poten-
tial in man for beatific vision—that is, for complete happiness—nor for grace.
In other words, there is no potential in man with respect to which such a vision
constitutes an innate goal.
True, in order to receive the blessings of sanctified grace and instilled vir-
tues, man does have the right potentia oboedentialis, which allows him to
receive an action coming from above without its following the necessary order
41 Ibid., prol.4.1.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 184): “Secundo, dicendum est potuisse Deum creare
hominem in puris naturalibus respectu finis ultimi, non immutando naturam ejus vel
aliquid ei naturaliter debitum negando. […] quia quidquid Deus contulit homini ultra
puram naturam est gratia; ergo potuit illam non dare, servatis alias legibus naturae.”
42 Ibid., prol. 4.1.18 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 184).
43 Ibid., prol.4.1.19 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 185): “Nam est quidem verum, hominem non posse
connaturali modo creari, nisi propter aliquam beatitudinem, et finem ultimum; negamus
vero necessario fuisse creandum propter beatitudinem, quae consistit in visione clara Dei,
nam illa supernaturalis est, et non deest alia beatitudo naturalis, propter quam homo in
pura natura creari posset” (my italics).
146 Esposito
of natural laws, and so it cannot be induced or caused by this natural order.

However, for Suárez, this is precisely what does not allow for a direct connec-
tion between desire and vision. With respect to the visio Dei, human potential
is a potentia neutra. If this were not the case, man would desire ‘naturally’ to
know as the angels know; that is, he would tend by nature toward an abstract
knowledge of God and things, which would be instilled in him. But this is not
true, for if it were, it would be like saying that the human body tends naturally
to fly; hence, one cannot think that man tends naturally toward that specific
mode of divine knowledge, which is beatific vision.44
From this perspective, nature is sufficient in itself and its appetite is already
fulfilled naturally. However, it is clear—and worth repeating—that for a
Catholic theologian this is, and must remain, a mere rational hypothesis, not
a fact. One could almost say that it is more a heuristic fiction than a verifiable
fact. Yet it is this very division between hypothesis and fact, between what
God could have done and the recognition of what He has done, and between
man’s virtual and actual capacity, that represents the critical node of the
problem.
Herein lies the greatness, but also the ambiguity of baroque metaphysics,
intended as the solution to the problem of the nexus between philosophy and
theology. In order to safeguard the gratuitousness of grace, one has recourse to
the concept of a pure nature; this purity, moreover, could be taken not only as
a virtual, but also as an original structural condition (as indeed would soon
happen in the course of modern thought). As a consequence, grace could be
thought of as an accessory, and therefore not essential to an understanding of
the structure and goal of nature. In other words, from being that which com-
pletes nature without taking anything away (gratia non tollit, sed perficit
naturam), grace becomes that which is added to an already ‘complete’ nature.
Undoubtedly, in Suárez’s theological design, this new ‘baroque’ order cer-
tainly did not aim to weaken, but rather to emphasise divine revelation; fur-
thermore, it was not limited to presenting divine revelation as the moment of
completion of the pre-Christian natural order, but included and assimilated
within it the natural foundation itself of theology. In short, the theory of pure
nature, on a par with the neutral concept of ‘being as such’, was, for Suárez, the
utterly ‘natural’ proof of God’s glory. The Jesuit motto ad maiorem Dei gloriam
meant for him that revelation was called upon to see itself as the ontological
structure of the natural world. And just as God’s infinite, sovereign, and emi-
nent character can manifest itself only in His being a ‘being’, as an addition or
contraction of a universal ontological order, so grace is supernatural because it
44 Cf. ibid., prol.4.1.21 (ed. Vivès, vol. 7, p. 185).

is added to a nature that is almost absolute in its purity. It is obvious that both
being and nature are created by God, but already here, in Suárez’s writing, they
begin to be thought of paradoxically, as if God did not exist—etsi Deus non
daretur.
(English translation by Lisa Adams)

chapter 6
Francisco Suárez as Dogmatic Theologian

Robert Fastiggi
1 Introduction
Most contemporary scholarship on Suárez focuses on his contributions to

metaphysics and law.1 Suárez, though, as the preceding chapter has made
clear, was first and foremost a theologian. Except for four years teaching phi-
losophy at Segovia (1570–1574), the rest of his academic career was spent as a
professor of theology: at Valladolid, Segovia, and Ávila (1574–1580); Rome
(1580–1585); Alcalá (1585–1593); Salamanca (1593–1597); and finally Coimbra
(1597–1615).2
2 The Theological Corpus of Suárez Published During His Lifetime
Most of Suárez’s writings are theological in nature. Of the twenty-six volumes

included in his Opera omnia, published by Vivès between 1856–1878—exclud-
ing volumes 27 and 28, which are indices—only the Disputationes metaphysi-
cae (volumes 25–26) and De legibus (volumes 5–6) can be considered more
philosophical than theological.3 But even in these writings, the theological
dimension is not missing. For example, in the prologue to the Disputationes
metaphysicae, Suárez writes: “It is impossible to be an accomplished theolo-
gian without first establishing a firm foundation in metaphysics.”4 His meta-
physics, therefore, can rightly be called “Christian and at the service of
theology.”5 Furthermore, Suárez’s theological concern is even more pro-
nounced in his De legibus: Book 4 of this work deals with canon law, Book 9
1 See Jean-Paul Coujou, Bibliografía suareciana (Pamplona, 2010).

2 See the chronology of Suárez’s life in Raoul de Scorraille, François Suarez de la Compagnie de
Jésus, Volume 1 (Paris, 1911), pp. xix–xxi.
3 See Coujou, Bibliografía suareciana, pp. 12–13, and 14, which mentions the added volume 29
consisting of six unedited writings of Suárez that are theological or ecclesiastical in nature.
4 Suárez, dm, Ad lectorem, Opera omnia, Volume 25 (Paris: Ludovicus Vivès, 1856–1878), hence-
forth Vivès.
5 John P. Doyle, trans. and ed., The Metaphysical Demonstration of the Existence of God:
Metaphysical Disputations 28–29 (South Bend, in, 2004), p. xi.

Francisco Suárez As Dogmatic Theologian 149
treats the divine positive law of the Old Testament, and Book 10 concerns itself
with the divine positive law of the New Testament.
Suárez only began publishing when he was in his early forties. His first pub-
lished works reflected on theological topics drawn from courses he had been
teaching, and they were written as commentaries on Thomas Aquinas’s Summa
theologiae, a common practice among theologians of Baroque scholasticism.
The De Incarnatione Verbi, published in 1590 when Suárez was forty-two, was a
commentary on questions 1–26 of the tertia pars of the Summa theologiae. The
second volume, which then treats questions 27–59, was published in 1592. It is
usually referred to by its subtitle, De mysteriis vitae Christi (On the Mysteries of
Christ’s Life). In this volume, Suárez treats the issues according to his own
method of ‘disputations’, thus breaking free of the commentarial method typi-
cal of his era. Accordingly, he provides twenty-three disputations dealing spe-
cifically with the mysteries and prerogatives of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which
occupy 336 double-columned pages in the Vivès edition.
So detailed is Suárez’s discussion on the Blessed Virgin Mary that some con-
sider him to be “the founder of systematic or scholastic Mariology.”6 Along
these lines, José Maria Bover observes that:
Mariology, as we understand it today, was a creation of the innate talent

of Suárez; who, by gathering and arranging the materials accumulated
through the ages; by contrasting opposing opinions within the Patristic
tradition and theological reason; by organizing systematically the
Mariological truths and theses, constructed a scientific work, consistent
and harmonious, worthy of the Mother of God.7
After De mysteriis vitae Christi, Suárez continued to explore and write about vari-
ous theological subjects. In 1594 he published a treatise on the question of
whether works of mortification may be revivified after repentance, Questio
Theologica: Utrum opera mortificanta…reuiuscant.8 Because he had been teach-
ing courses on the sacraments at Alcalá and Salamanca, it was fitting that his next
publication would be on the sacraments. In what would become volumes 20 and
21 in the Vivès edition, in 1595 he published a volume treating the sacraments in
general, as well as specific topics such as baptism, confirmation, and the Eucharist,
using the structure of a commentary on the Summa theologiae III, qq. 60–83.
6 Michael O’Carroll, C.S.Sp., Theotokos: A Theological Encyclopedia of the Blessed Virgin Mary
(Wilmington, de, 1982), p. 334.
7 José María Bover, s.j., “Suárez, Mariólogo,” Estudios Eclesiásticos 22 (1948): pp. 167–168.
8 Coujou, Bibliografía suareciana, p. 9.
150 Fastiggi
Following a new edition of De Verbo Incarnato in 1595, Suárez’s next publica-

tion was one he had been working on for some time, namely, his Disputationes
metaphysicae, which appeared as two volumes in Salamanca in 1597. A major
motivation for composing these fifty-four metaphysical disputations was
Suárez’s dissatisfaction with the way philosophy was being taught at Alcalà
and Salamanca. He did not believe it corresponded to the methods envisioned
by the Jesuit course of studies, the Ratio studiorum, for which he had served as
an advisor.9 Therefore, he thought it important to provide a treatment of meta-
physics more systematic than the previous approach, in which “the teaching
was organized around commentaries on Aristotle and Aquinas, rather than a
way that reflects the conceptual order of the material.”10 His presentation of
metaphysics is thus structured around being in general, ens ut sic (disputations
1–27), and the divisions of being, divisiones entis (disputations 28–54).
The brilliance and thoroughness of the Disputationes metaphysicae was rec-
ognized soon after its publication. Between its initial publication in 1597 and
1636, it had gone through seventeen editions.11 Pope Alexander VII (r. 1655–
1667) regarded it as one of the most important influences on his own intellec-
tual development,12 and much later John Paul II (r. 1978–2005) noted its
widespread use even in German Lutheran universities.13
Next, in 1599, Suárez published a volume of six small works in theology,
Opuscula theologia sex. These six small treatises were composed in response to
Pope Clement VIII’s appeal to the Jesuit superiors to have their best theolo-
gians address the De auxiliis controversy, which had arisen as a result of the
Dominican attacks on the 1588 work Concordia, written by the Jesuit Luis de
Molina (1536–1600), who was seeking to address the harmony of free will with
divine grace, foreknowledge, and predestination.14 The titles of Suárez’s six
opuscula manifest his attempt to deal with the subtlest aspects of the contro-
versy.15 De concursu et efficaci auxilio Dei tries to discuss the concurrence and
9 Benjamin Hill, “Introduction” to The Philosophy of Francisco Suárez, eds. Bejamin Hill and
Henrik Lagerlund (Oxford, 2012), p. 17.
10 Ibid.
11 José Pereira, Suárez: Between Scholasticism & Modernity (Milwaukee, wi, 2007), p. 11.
13 John Paul II, encyclical, Fides et ratio (14 September 1998), no. 62.
14 See De Scorraille, François Suarez, vol. 1, pp. 402–404.
15 The controversy resulted in a commission, formed by Clement VIII in 1597, that continued
to examine the matter until 1607, when Paul VI approved a formula for ending the contro-
versy. In essence, this 1607 formula forbade both sides from censoring each other and
stated that a future decision would be forthcoming. Because of the subtlety of the issue,
however, the Magisterium decided to allow the various schools (Jesuit, Dominican, and
efficacy of divine assistance with human freedom. The De scientia Dei futurum
contingentium, for its part, deals with God’s knowledge of future contingents,
while the De auxilio efficaci takes a more in-depth look at workings of divine
grace. His De libertate divinae voluntatis, moreover, focuses on the freedom of
God’s will, and the De mentis mortifcatis investigates how works of mortifica-
tion and penance contribute to the life of grace. Finally, in the De justitia qua
Deus reddit praemia, Suárez attempts to explain how God rewards merits and
punishes sins.
These six opuscula, however, were attacked by the Dominican Domingo
Báñez (1528–1604), who was the chief opponent of Molina, Suárez’s Jesuit con-
frere.16 Suárez wrote a response by way of a letter to Pope Clement VIII, which
has been included among the six unedited works published in volume 29 of
the Opera omnia.17
In 1602, Suárez continued his treatment of the sacraments with treatises on
Penance and Extreme Unction, using the form of a commentary on part three
of the Summa theologiae, q. 84–90, and various parts of the supplement to the
Summa. In 1603, he followed this work by publishing treatises on censures and
excommunication, namely, De censuris and De excomminicatione.
During the years 1606–1609, Suárez taught classes on grace and composed
detailed works on the subject, which, however, would only be published post-
humously in 1619. During these years he also published a number of noteworthy
works, including the 1606 De Deo Uno et Trino, which included an index showing
how the topics treated correspond to the first forty-three questions of the prima
pars of Aquinas’s Summa theologiae. In 1606, Suárez also composed a work deal-
ing with the break of Venice from the Holy See. He sent this work, titled De
Immunitate ecclesiastica contra Venetos, to Pope Paul V in early 1607. The Roman
Pontiff was so pleased with the treatise that he responded with a letter, dated 2
October 1607, which praised the work as that of an “outstanding and pious theo-
logian” (Theologum eximium…ac pium), whence Suárez derived his sobriquet
Doctor eximius ac pius,18 a title that Popes Alexander VII (r. 1655–1667), Benedict
XIV (r. 1740–1758), and Pius XII (r. 1939–1958) have used in reference to Suárez.19
Augustinian) to hold their respective views as long as they adhered to the teachings of the
Council of Trent. See Heinrich Denzinger and Peter Hünermann (henceforth Denz.),
Enchirdion symbolorum definitionum et declarationum de rebus fidei et morum, 43rd edn.
(Freiburg, 2010), nn.1997, 1997a, 2008, 2564–65.
17 See Coujou, Bibliografía suareciana, p. 14.
152 Fastiggi
The text of De Immunitate, however, was only published posthumously, and it is

also included among the six unedited opuscula eventually included in volume
29 in the Opera omnia.20
Between 1608 and 1609, Suárez published his first two volumes on the virtue
and state of religion, De virtu et statu religionis. After his death, in 1624 and
1625, two more volumes of De virtu et statu religionis were published. These
volumes—often referred to as simply De religione—are so detailed that they
take up volumes 13 through 16 of the Vivès edition. In addition to covering the
topic of religion as a virtue and a state, Suárez discusses prayer, devotion, the
Liturgy of the Hours, vows, religious obligations, the varieties of religious
orders, and the religious life of the Society of Jesus.
In 1612, Suárez published De legibus, a monumental treatise in ten books
that takes up volumes 5 and 6 of the Vivès edition. Book 1 discusses the nature
of law in general, as well as its causes and effects. Book 2 examines eternal law,
natural law, and the law of nations (jus gentium). Book 3, for its part, takes up
positive human law, considered in itself. In this book, Suárez also examines
civil laws, and how and when they are appropriate. Book 4 is concerned with
the positive ecclesiastical law, known as canon law. Among the topics treated
here are: the relation of ecclesiastical power to civil power, whether canon laws
bind in conscience, and whether ecclesiastical laws bind under the penalty of
mortal sin. Book 5 looks at the variety of human laws, as well as multiple ques-
tions on the obligation of laws (e.g., whether ignorance excuses one from legal
punishment). Book 6 examines the interpretation, mutation, and cessation of
human laws, while Book 7 discusses the nature and obligation of unwritten
laws or customs, and Book 8 deals with the notion and application of privi-
leges. Book 9 treats the divine positive law of the Old Testament, discussing a
number of important issues including whether the Old Law could justify peo-
ple, and whether the precepts of the Old Law have ceased since the coming of
Christ. Book 10 is a profound exposition of the New Law legislated by Christ.
This last book examines the relation of the New Law to the Old and the perpe-
tuity of the ‘law of grace’, and discusses how laws inform human beings inter-
nally and externally.
The year 1613 marks the publication of Suárez’s last major work published
before his death, namely, his Defense of the Catholic Faith Against the Errors of
the Anglican Sect (Defensio fidei Catholicae adversus Anglicanae sectae errores).
Usually referred to simply as the Defensio fidei, this treatise was written at the
request of the papal nuncio to Madrid, Decio Caraffa, and Cardinal Scipione
Borghese, nephew of Paul V, who, in 1610, informed Caraffa that the Holy Father

would be pleased if Father Suárez could refute the Anglican position of ‘the
divine right of kings’, defended by King James I.21
Because Suárez was already engaged in writing De legibus, the Defensio fidei
was not published until 1613. The treatise is divided into six books. The first
book examines the nature of the Anglican schism, and why the ‘Anglican sect’
can no longer be considered Catholic. Book two, furthermore, discusses the
particular errors of the Anglican sect with regard to the Catholic faith. Book
three is a systematic exposition of the power and authority of the Roman
Pontiff. In a particular way, it treats the foundations and extent of papal author-
ity, taking into account the distinction between the spiritual and temporal
authority of the pope. Book four examines the immunity of the Church from
temporal or secular jurisdiction, in direct resistance to the Anglican claim that
the monarch is the ‘supreme head of the Church’. Book five, moreover, is a refu-
tation of the Protestant claim that the pope is the Antichrist. Finally, Book 6
critically examines the Anglican demand for English Catholics to take an oath
of fidelity to the English monarch. For Suárez, such an oath of allegiance would
compromise Catholic allegiance to the Roman Pontiff. He takes note of the
Anglican persecution of Catholics, and the many English martyrs who have
died because of their fidelity to the pope and the Catholic faith. The Defensio
fidei was burned in London in December of 1613,22 and because of its challenge
to the divine right of kings, it was also examined by the French Parliament,
which soon condemned it as well, and had it burned in Paris in June of 1614.23
3 Posthumous Theological Writings
Suárez retired from teaching in 1615 at the age of 67, and he died on 25
September 1617, a few months shy of his seventieth birthday.24 After his death,
his friend and Jesuit colleague, P. Baltasar Álvarès (1561–1630), edited practi-
cally all of his remaining writings and arranged for their publication.25 These
posthumous writings are almost entirely theological. Parts I and III of Suárez’s
treatise on grace, De gratia, were published in Coimbra, Portugal, in 1619. Part
II of De gratia was published later in Lyon, France, in 1651.26 In 1620, Suarez’s

22 Ibid., p. 194.
23 Ibid., pp. 202–204.
24 In addition to De Scorraille, see P. Monnot, “Suarez, François,” in Dictionnaire de Théologie
Catholique, vol. 14 (Paris: Libraire Letouzey et Ané, 1941), 2640.
25 Monnot, “Suarez, François,” 2641.
154 Fastiggi
treatise on the angels, De angelis, was published in Lyon. This was followed by
the publication of his treatise De opere sex dierum et de anima in 1621, also in
Lyon. This book comments on the work of creation as described in Genesis,
and also provides a detailed philosophical discussion on the nature of the soul.
In 1621 in Lisbon, Suárez’s book on the “Synodal Constitutions of the Diocese of
Guarda” (Constituições synodaes do Bispado da Guarda) was published in
Portuguese. This volume, though, is not included in the Opera omnia of Vivès.
In 1624 and 1625, volumes 3 and 4 of Suárez’s work De virtute et statu religionis
were published. A few years later, in 1628, his treatise on the final state of man was
published as De ultimo fine hominis in Lyon. In the same year and also in Lyon, his
Tractatus quinque in primam secundae was published, which covers topics such as
the voluntary and involuntary acts of the will, good and evil acts, and the passions.
This Tractutus combines with De ultimo fine hominis to form volume 4 of Suárez’s
Opera omnia in the Vivès edition. In 1632, a final section of Suárez’s treatise De reli-
gione was published in Lyon, and almost two decades later, in 1651, the second part
of De gratia was published in Lyon. In 1655, Suarez’s treatise “On the true under-
standing of efficient grace and its harmony with free will” (De vera intelligentia
auxilii efficacis, ejusque Concordia cum libero arbitrio) was finally published.
After 1655, there was a long gap before any more of the Doctor Eximius’s writ-
ings would be published. In 1859, however, J.B. Malou published six unedited
works of Suárez as Opuscula sex inedita. These six treatises contain: (1) a com-
mentary on the decree of Clement VIII regarding confession and absolution of
a penitent at a distance from a priest; (2) a letter to Clement VIII regarding the
De auxiliis controversy and the opposition of Báñez to certain positions of
Suárez; (3) a treatise on the Immaculate Conception of the Most Blessed Virgin
Mary; (4) a treatise in three books on the violation of ecclesiastical immunity by
the Republic of Venice; (5) Suárez’s judgment on the institute of certain English
religious groups designated as Jesuit; and (6) three letters regarding the inter-
dict of Lisbon in 1617 by the apostolic nuncio.27 These six treatises were later
included as volume 29 of the Opera omnia.28 They touch on some very impor-
tant issues, even though they have not been given much historical attention.
4 The Structure of Suárez’s Dogmatic System
From what can be seen above, Suárez did not compose a summa of dogmatic
theology as a unified whole. Nevertheless, because his writings are so extensive,

28 Ibid.
later editors would attempt to arrange his works according to the Summa theo-
logiae of St. Thomas Aquinas, which follows, in its own way, the general struc-
ture of the Sententiae in IV libros distinctae of Peter Lombard (c. 1100–1160),
usually identified simply as the Sentences. Lombard’s treatise begins with God,
one and Triune (book 1); he then continues with a consideration of creation
and creatures, which includes the creation of angels, humans, and then the fall
of humanity through the sin of Adam and Eve (book 2); this is followed by a
discussion of the Incarnation as the remedy to the fall (book 3); and, finally, the
sacraments are presented as the preeminent means for the restoration of fallen
human nature and as the preparation for the last things (book 4).29
Thomas’s Summa theologiae can be understood according to a similar pat-
tern, however its structure is much more detailed. The Summa theologiae is
divided into three parts, with the second part further divided into two parts.
The prima pars considers God in himself, and God as the efficient cause of
creatures. Thus, it discusses the following themes: God as one and triune; cre-
ation; the angels; the six days of creation, leading up to the creation of man;
and the governance of creatures.30 The first part of the second part, or prima
secundae, considers God as the end attainable by man through his acts. This
part, therefore, considers man’s ultimate end, as well as human acts, passions,
habits, vices, and sins, and it then moves on to discuss the different types of
law, and the nature and categories of grace. The second part of the second part,
or secunda secundae, treats human acts as they tend toward or away from the
ultimate end of man. Consideration, therefore, is given to the virtues (both
human and theological) as well as vices. Attention is also given in this part to
acts that pertain to certain human beings, such as prophecy, the gift of tongues,
and the state of perfection. Finally, the tertia pars examines the Incarnation as
the means by which God serves as the redeemer and repairer of human defects.
This third part not only studies the mystery of the Incarnation, but it also con-
siders the sacraments as the means by which the saving work of the Incarnation
is applied.
As is well known, Thomas died before completing his Summa theologiae.
His great work, therefore, ends with his general treatment of the sacrament of
penance. His disciples, though, subsequently supplied a supplement that
makes use of his earlier writings on the sacraments of extreme unction, holy
orders, and matrimony, as well as his writings on the last things. In this way, the
29 See Ulrich G. Leinsle, Introduction to Scholastic Theology, trans. Michael J. Miller

(Washington, d.c., 2010), pp. 60–61.
30 Pereira, Suárez, p. 46. Pereira relies upon John of St. Thomas (1589–1644) for understand-
ing the structure of Thomas’s Summa theologiae.
156 Fastiggi
Summa theologiae could serve as a complete, systematic presentation of

Catholic dogmatic theology.
By the sixteenth century Aquinas’s Summa theologiae and Summa contra
gentiles had replaced the Sentences of Peter Lombard as the primary texts for
theological instruction in the universities of Europe.31 The use of the Summa
theologiae as the basic source for philosophical and theological instruction
would continue into the twenty-first century, especially in seminary educa-
tion.32 The Jesuits had also embraced St. Thomas Aquinas as their preeminent
guide for theological training, although they were allowed to disagree with the
Angelic Doctor provided they did so “with gravity and respect.”33
The importance of Thomas Aquinas helps to explain why various collec-
tions of Suárez’s works are arranged not chronologically but systematically,
according to the framework of the Summa theologiae. This can be seen in
the twenty-three volumes of the Opera omnia, published in Venice between
1740 and 1750, and in the twenty-six volumes of the Vivès edition of the
Opera omnia, published between 1856 and 1877.34 In the introduction to vol-
ume 1 of the Vivès edition, there is a table of contents that relates the vari-
ous volumes of the Opera omnia to corresponding parts in the Summa
theologiae.35
While the various writings of Suárez can be arranged according to the basic
framework of the Summa theologiae, such a comparison will reveal certain gaps
in Suárez’s coverage of all the topics involved. For example, Suárez only covers
four out of the seven sacraments, leaving extreme unction, holy orders, and
matrimony untreated.36 Also missing from Suárez’s work is a specific treatise
31 Thomas O’Meara, O.P., Thomas Aquinas: Theologian (Notre Dame, in, 1997), pp. 160–161.
See also Romanus Cessario, O.P., A Short History of Thomism (Washington, d.c., 2005), p.
64, where he notes the Belgian Peter Crockaert’s use of the introduction of the Summa as
a textbook in Paris in the first decade of the sixteenth century, and twenty years later in
Salamanca by Francisco de Vitoria, O.P.
32 See examples of magisterial support for Thomism in philosophical and theological educa-
tion in Denz. nn. 3135–3140 (Leo XIII, Aeterni Patris, 1879); 3601–3624 (Congregation for
Studies, The 24 Metaphysical Theses, 1914); and 3894 (Pius XII, Humani generis, 1950).
33 Carlos Noreña, “Suárez and the Jesuits,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly [spe-
cial issue on Francisco Suárez edited by Jorge Gracia] 65.3 (1991): p. 282.
34 Coujou, Bibliografía suareciana, pp. 11–14. On p. 12, Coujou notes that in the Vivès edition
there are also the two volumes of indices (27 and 28) and the added volume 29, consisting
of an unedited Opuscula.
35 Francisco Suárez, Opera omnia, vol. 1 (Paris: L. Vivès, 1856), pp. iv–vi.
36 There is a certain irony in this observation because Aquinas left the Summa theologiae
unfinished precisely while treating the sacrament of penance. The coverage of extreme
on the last things, which made its way into the Summa theologiae via the sup-
plement. Suárez, though, does discuss many issues related to the last things in
De anima, De ultimo fine hominis, and De fide, spe et charitate.
Suárez does not have a separate treatise on moral theology, however this can
be explained by the fact that he lived during a time when large synthetic trea-
tises on moral theology were only beginning to appear with regularity.37
Nevertheless, he does treat many themes of moral theology in De anima, De
ultimo fine hominis, De fide, spe et charitate, and especially in De legibus.
Furthermore, in areas such as social ethics, political theology, and interna-
tional law, Suárez clearly goes into much more depth than Aquinas and the
other medieval writers.
As with moral theology, treatises on ecclesiology were only beginning to
emerge during the post-Tridentine period. Suárez, though, covers many aspects
of ecclesiology in depth in his Defensio fidei, including the primacy and author-
ity of the pope, the nature and authority of ecumenical councils, and the infal-
libility of both ecumenical councils and the Roman Pontiff. In a special way,
Suárez argues for the indefectibility of the Catholic Church, which is upheld by
the faith of Peter and the Roman See. As he writes:
The faith of Peter was Catholic and unable to fail; but the faith of the
Roman Church is the faith of Peter. Therefore, the faith of the Roman
Church is the Catholic faith, from which this See can never defect.38
Suárez lived during a time when systematic treatises on mystical theology

were also just beginning to emerge.39 His own contribution to this field can be
found in his massive treatises on De virtute et statu religionis—commonly
known as De religione—found in volumes 13 through 16 of the Vivès edition.
Suárez regards contemplation as “almost the final end to which the human
mind can ascend and reach in this life.”40 He also classifies the various religious
orders according to whether they seek contemplation as their highest end
unction, holy orders, and matrimony in most editions of the Summa theologiae rely on a
supplement consisting of earlier writings of Aquinas that discuss these sacraments.
37 José Pereira and Robert Fastiggi, The Mystical Theology of the Catholic Reformation
(Lanham, md, 2006), pp. 30–34.
38 Suárez, df c. 5, n. 7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 24, p. 22): “Fides Petri catholica fuit, et deficere non
potest; sed fides Ecclesiae Romanae est fides Petri; ergo fides Ecclesiae Romanae est fides
catholica a qua numquam illa sedes potest deficere.”
39 See Pereira and Fastiggi, The Mystical Theology of the Catholic Reformation, 34–35.
40 Suárez, De rel., tr. 4, 2.9.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 14, p. 155); see Pereira and Fastiggi, The Mystical
Theology of the Catholic Reformation, p. 264.
158 Fastiggi
(e.g., the Carmelites) or pursue contemplation in support of asceticism, holi-

ness, and service to the Church (e.g., the Theatines and the Barnabites).41 He
also accounts for the orders that seek a balance between asceticism and
contemplation.
We see that Suárez’s corpus includes not only dogmatic theology, as reflected
in the Summa theologiae, but also areas of theology that were developing and
expanding during the post-Tridentine period, viz., political theology, ecclesiol-
ogy, and mystical theology. How, though, should his dogmatic theology be
structured? As has been noted, the editors of the nineteenth-century Vivès
Opera omnia tried to arrange the writings of Suárez according to the three parts
of Thomas’s Summa theologiae. While arranging the theology of Suárez within
the Thomisitic framework can be defended, José Pereira has proposed under-
standing the Doctor Eximius’s philosophy and theology as a whole rather than
in separate categories. According to Pereira, the writings of Suárez combine to
form a ‘super-system’, structured around the concepts of being, God, creation,
and final causality. There are, in this super-system, four categories: (1) being as
such (ens ut sic); (2) God in Himself (Deus in se); (3) God as efficient cause
(Deus ut causa efficiens); and (4) God as final cause (Deus ut causa finalis).42
According to this structure, being as such is considered as created and
uncreated, and these distinctions are treated in the fifty-four Disputationes
metaphysicae (1597). God in Himself, as One and Triune, is the subject of
Suárez’s De Deo Uno et Trino (1606). God as efficient cause takes into account
corporeal and incorporeal creatures, as well as man as a composition of matter
and spirit. Three treatises of Suárez cover these topics in a special way: De
angelis (1620), De opere sex dierum (1621), and De anima (1621). God as final
cause includes a number of themes. It considers God as an end in Himself,
which is the theme of De ultimo fine hominis (1628), and it includes God as the
legislator who directs creatures to their proper ends, which is the subject of De
legibus (1619). Likewise, it embraces God as the sanctifier, which is the focus of
the treatises De gratia (1619 and 1651) and De fide, spe, et caritate (1622). It also
includes God as worthy of adoration, which is the major theme of De religione
(1608–1625), and finally, it considers God as redeemer, which is embraced in
both De Incarnatione (1590–1592) and De sacramentiis (1593–1603). According
to Pereira, “these are the main treatises that constitute the Suarezian synthesis,
possibly the most titanic enterprise in systematics ever undertaken by any
single individual in the history of thought.”43
41 See Pereira and Fastiggi, The Mystical Theology of the Catholic Reformation, pp. 264–271.
43 Ibid.
5 Main Contributions to Dogmatic Theology
A systematic exposition of the dogmatic theology of Suárez would require a

book-length treatise. Thus, in the present context, four of his many contribu-
tions to dogmatic theology will be noted.
First, there are Suárez’s contributions to Mariology. Many Marian scholars
today consider him to be “the founder of systematic Mariology.”44 The overall
structure of Suárez’s Mariology is presented in the twenty-three disputations
of De Mysteriis Vitae Christi (i.e., the second volume of his 1592 commentary on
tertia pars of the Summa theologiae). These disputations are arranged around
the themes of: Mary’s sanctification, Mary as Mother of God, and her initial
sanctification (disputations 1–4), the virginal integrity of Mary (disputations
5–6), the ongoing sanctification of Mary in the events of her life and her role in
the events of Christ’s life (disputations 7–17), the graces, merits, and consum-
mated sanctification of Mary in her glorious death and assumption (disputa-
tions 18–21), and the veneration owed to Mary, her role as intercessor, and her
cooperation with Christ in the work of redemption (disputations 22–23).45
In these disputations, Suárez explains in great detail the scriptural, patristic,
and theological reasons for Catholic beliefs in Mary’s threefold virginity
(before, during, and perpetually after giving birth).46 He defends Mary’s
Immaculate Conception and Assumption, and states that these doctrines are
capable of being dogmatically defined (which they were in 1854 and 1950,
respectively). Furthermore, he provides reasons why it is proper to affirm that
Mary cooperated in the work of redemption in a unique and irreplaceable
manner. Thus, she merits our redemption in a congruous manner (i.e., with
meritum de congruo), though not in the condign manner (i.e., with meritum de
condigno), which is reserved only for her Son.47
Suárez’s importance for Catholic Mariology is evident in that he is cited by
canonized saints such as St. Louis Grignion de Montfort (1673–1716), the author
44 Michael O’Carroll, C.S.Sp., Theotokos: A Theological Encyclopedia of the Blessed Virgin

Mary (Eurgene, or, 2000), p. 334.
45 See Robert Fastiggi, “Mary’s Coredemption According to Francisco Suárez, s.j. (1548–
1617),” in Mary at the Foot of the Cross--IV: Mater Viventium. Acts of the Fourth International
Symposium on Marian Coredemption (New Bedford, ma, 2004), pp. 338–351.
46 See Robert Fastiggi, “Francisco Suárez, s.j. (1548–1617) on Mary’s Virginitas in Partu and
Subsequent Doctrinal Development,” in Marian Studies Volume LVIII (2007): The Virginity
of Mary (Dayton, oh, 2007), pp. 26–45. Suárez defends the traditional understanding of
Mary’s virginitas in partu, viz., that in giving birth, the physical sign of her virginity was
miraculously preserved.
47 Suárez, De mysteriis vitae Christi, 23.1.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 19, p. 331).
160 Fastiggi
of True Devotion to Mary,48 and St. Alphonsus Liguori (1696–1787), the author
of The Glories of Mary, who several times cites Suárez saying that we should
implore the help of Mary “in order that the dignity of the intercessor may sup-
ply for our own unworthiness” (ut dignitas intercessoris suppleat inopiam nos-
tram).49 Pope Pius XII also held Suárez in high esteem, and refers to him in
support of the solemn definition of the Assumption in 195050 and for the feast
of the Queenship of Mary in 1954 .51
Suárez also makes a significant contribution to Christology in his treatise De
Incarnatione. Ultimately, he defends the Scotist position that the Incarnation
was not dependent on the fall of man. He distinguishes between God’s primary
motivation for the Incarnation, which is based on his desire to join himself to
creation, and his secondary motivation, which is to redeem humanity from sin
after He foresees the fall of man through his scientia media.52 Suárez was so
convinced of the predestination of the Incarnation that he believed God
revealed the image of Christ, the Incarnate Word, to the angels as their Lord. As
a result, Lucifer, in his pride and disobedience, resisted, and persuaded many
other angels to join him in his rebellion.53 Suárez finds support for this posi-
tion in Scripture (Jn 8:44)54 and in various Church fathers such as Lactantius,
Tertullian, and Cyprian, as well as the medieval author Bernard of Clairvaux.55
A third major contribution of Suárez is in his theology of grace. Suárez lived
through the De auxiliis controversy, when the Dominicans and the Jesuits were
trying to explain how divine omnipotence, foreknowledge, and the human
dependence on grace could be reconciled with free will. In response, Suárez
developed a system known as Congruism, which was a development of the sys-
tem advanced by Luis de Molina (1535–1600). This system takes into account not
only God’s foreknowledge of future contingents, but also his divine providence
48 See Louis de Montfort, Secret of the Rosary, n. 54 and True Devotion to Mary, n. 40.
49 Suárez, De mysteriis vitae Christi, 23.3.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 19, p. 336); see St. Alphonus Liguori,
The Glories of Mary, trans. Rev. Eugene Grimm (Brooklyn, ny, 1932), c.. III, I (p. 110) and c.
V, I (p. 154).
50 Acta Apostolicae Sedis 42 (1950): p. 767.
51 See Denz., 3914.
52 See De Incarnatione 5.1-2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 17, pp. 197–220); see also the discussion of Suárez’s
treatment of the motives for the Incarnation in P. Dumont, Dictionnaire de Théologie
Catholoque, vol. 14 (Paris, 1941), pp. 2655–2660.
53 Suárez, De ang., 7.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 2, pp. 881–891).
54 Suárez points to Jn 8:44, in which Jesus speaks of the Devil as “a murderer from the begin-
ning.” He understands this as referring to Lucifer’s “homicide” committed by his rebellion
against the Son of God, whom he foresaw: cf. De ang., 7.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 2, p. 886).
55 Suárez, De ang., 7.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 2, p. 886).
whereby he seeks to arrange events in a manner congruous with a free human

assent to his grace.56 Pope Benedict XIV mentioned Suárez along with Molina in
his letter to the Grand Inquisitor of Spain from 31 July 1748, and he defended the
right of the followers of Suárez to uphold the latter’s position.57
A fourth contribution to dogmatic theology can be found in Suárez’s ecclesi-
ology, as has already been noted. Suárez is a great defender of the papacy as
necessary for unity in the Church, as he himself writes: “It is necessary that
there be in the Church some supreme power to which belongs the government
of Christ’s universal Church.”58 He believes this teaching is de fide doctrine,
which he finds is supported by Scripture, the fathers, and the Councils of the
Church. At the time, those who opposed papal authority raised the possibility
of a pope being a heretic. To this, Suárez replied that the authority of the
Roman Pontiff exists by divine law—i.e., de iure divino—and God will ensure
that papal definitions will never be erroneous.59 Even if a pope, as a private
person, might hold an erroneous position out of ignorance or confusion, God,
in His divine Providence, would make sure that such a pope would never harm
the Church.60 As Suárez sees it, “if Peter or his successor could deceive the
Church, she would not be a firm and stable edifice.”61 Christ, though, prays that
Peter’s faith will not fail (cf. Lk 22: “ut non deficiat fides tua”), and this ensures
that the See of Peter, by divine protection, will never bring error to the univer-
sal Church.
Suárez also contributes to another issue of ecclesiology: the relation of
unbelievers (infidels) to the Church.62 Here he identifies three orders of infi-
dels: those who do not wish to believe even though they have been preached to
sufficiently; those who have heard nothing about the Christian faith; and
“those who have heard something about the Christian faith, although in an
inadequate manner,”63 such as Turks, Saracens, and Indians. The infidels of the
56 On Congruism, see John Hardon, s.j. History and Theology of Grace (Ypsilanti, mi, 2002),
pp. 273–275; see also De Scorraille, François Suarez, vol. 1, pp. 401–478 for a detailed discus-
sion of the whole De auxiliis controversy and Suárez’s role in it.
57 Denz., 2564.
58 De Fide, 9.6.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 12, p. 263).
59 Cf. ibid., 10.6.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 12, p. 319): “…Deus promisit Papam definientem numquam
erraturum….”
60 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 12, p. 319): “Quamvis enim efficere Deus possit ut haereticus Papa non
noceat Ecclesiae, suavior tamen modus divinae providentiae est…”
62 See, especially, De fide, spe et caritate, tract. I (ed. Vivès, vol. 12, pp. 334–360, 404–425).
63 Ilaria Morali, “Religions and Salvation: The Early Modern Period (1453–1650),” in Catholic
Engagement with World Religions: A Comprehensive Study, eds., Karl Joseph Becker and
162 Fastiggi
first order are liable to God’s judgment and damnation. Infidels of the second
kind are in invincible ignorance and God seeks to find a way for them to be
“sufficiently enlightened and pressed on to faith.”64 For the third group, it is
necessary that they manifest some type of prayer and faith in God, as well as
“an intention and a desire for salvation.”65
6 Suárez’s Influence and Theological Legacy
It is somewhat ironic that Suárez, who was primarily a theologian, seems to

have had greater influence in the areas of metaphysics and international law
than dogmatic theology. This might be due, in part, to the strong preference
the Magisterium has manifested for Thomism since Aeterni Patris (1879). It
might also partly be due to the rejection of Suárez’s interpretation of the
Decree of the Holy Office, issued on 20 June 1602, regarding confession and
absolution of an absent person.66 In a subsequent Decree of 7 June 1603, the
Holy Office rejected Suárez’s claim that a confession would be invalid only if
both the confession and the absolution occurred in absence.67 Suárez, it could
be argued, was only highlighting an ambiguity in the initial Decree.
Nevertheless, a public rebuke by the Magisterium recorded in the well-known
Denzinger Compendium might have raised a spectre of suspicion for those who
would identify themselves as Suarezian. This was so even though Suárez imme-
diately submitted to the 1603 Decree of the Holy Office, and Paul V would later
recognize Suárez as an “outstanding and pious theologian” (eximius ac pius).
In spite of the 1603 rebuke, appeals to Suárez’s authority have not been lack-
ing in the centuries following his death. Pope Benedict XIV cited him as an
authority in his February 1749 Brief to Cardinal Henry, Duke of York, on the
question of the validity of baptism done by heretics.68 Pius XII, as we have
seen, also cited Suárez as an authority for both the Dogma of the Assumption
in 1950,69 and his 11 October 1954 encyclical, Ad caeili Reginam, on the
Ilaria Morali (Maryknoll, ny, 2010), p. 81; cf. Suárez, De fide, spe et caritate, tract. I (ed.
Vivès, vol. 12, p. 425).
64 Morali, “Religions and Salvation,” p. 82; see Suárez, De gratia, 4.11.17 (ed., Vivès, vol. 8, p.
318).
65 Ibid., p. 83; see Suárez, De fide, spe et caritate, tract. I n. 10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 12, p. 427).
66 Denzinger-Hünermann, 1994.
67 Ibid, 1995.
68 Ibid., 2567.
69 Cf. Acta apostolicae sedis 42 (1950): pp. 767 ff.
Queenship of Mary.70 In addition to these papal citations, the name of Suárez

is regularly cited in pre-Vatican II manuals of dogmatic theology, such as those
by Ludwig Ott,71 Adolphe Tanquerey,72 and the four volumes of the Sacrae
Theologiae Summa of the Spanish Jesuits (1950–1951).73 When scholastic theol-
ogy fell out of favour after Vatican II, interest in Suárez also declined, especially
among the Jesuits. There are, however, signs of renewed interest in the writings
of the Doctor Eximius. As Catholic theology seeks to ground itself more and
more in the great theologians of the past, the outstanding contributions of
Francisco Suárez will become increasingly more apparent.
70 Denzinger-Hünermann, 3914.
71 Ludwig Ott, Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, trans. Patrick Lynch (St. Louis, mo, 1954).
There are nineteen citations of Suárez.
72 A. Tanquerey, Synopsis Theologiae Dogmaticae, 3 vols. (Paris, 1930). There are seventeen
citations of Suárez in these three volumes.
73 Patres Societatis Iesu Facultatum Theologicarum in Hispana Professores, Sacrae
Theologiae Summa, 4 vols. (Madrid, 1950–1951); there are numerous citations of Suárez in
each volume; there are probably close to two hundred citations in the four volumes
combined.
chapter 7
Suárez on the Metaphysics and Epistemology

of Universals1
Daniel Heider
1 Introduction2
Suárez elaborates his theory of universals in the sixth Disputation “On Formal
and Universal Unity” of his two-volume Disputationes metaphysicae (hereafter
dm).3 dm 6 constitutes, in order, the second disputation, in which the Jesuit
examines various kinds of transcendental unity. The first treatment, i.e., that
contained in dm 5 (“Individual Unity and Its Principle”),4 is concerned with the
question of individual unity, which, in comparison with the two other kinds of
unity, is considered ontologically privileged. Despite its main focus on the
metaphysical aspect of the problem, the psychological and, marginally, the logi-
cal facets of the issue are taken into account as well.5 Contrary to Duns Scotus,
whose treatment methodologically determines Suárez’s approach in dm 6, the
1 This essay has been elaborated partly with the support of the Grant Project no. P401/10/0080
“Univerzálie v raně novověké univerzitní filosofii” (Faculty of Theology, University of South
Bohemia), Czech Science Foundation.
2 For a detailed exposition of Suárez’s theory of universals, also in the context of comparison
with other Second Scholastics, see Daniel Heider, Universals in Second Scholasticism. A com
parative study with focus on the theories of Francisco Suárez s.j. (1548–1617), João Poinsot O.P.
(1589–1644) and Bartolomeo Mastri da Meldola O.F.M. Conv. (1602–1673)/Bonaventura Belluto
O.F.M. Conv. (1600–1676) (Amsterdam, Philadelphia, John Benjamins Publishing Company, 2014).
3 Suárez, dm 6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 201–250).
4 dm 6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 145–201).
5 The psychogenesis of universals and the brief evaluation of various kinds of intentions are
also discussed in De anima (henceforth da) in the second part of the question “Utrum in
rebus materialibus cognoscat intellectus noster singularia” of the 9th Disputation, “De potentia
intellective.” As regards De anima, I shall quote from Salvador Castellote’s critical edition
Francisco Suárez Commentaria una cum quaestionibus in libros Aristotelis De anima, available
at <http://www.salvadorcastellote.com/investigacion.htm>. As for the logical treatises,
unfortunately neither Suárez’s Commentary to Aristotle’s Organon nor the Commentary to
Porphyry Isagogé are available. About the destiny of Suárez’s logical treatises, with the high
degree of probability worked out by Suárez during his teaching in Segovia in the first half of
the 1570s, see Raoul De Scorraille, François Suarez de la Compagnie de Jesus, 2 vols. (Paris,
1911), 1:416. Suárez himself gives notice about his intention to compose a logical treatise on
predicables. See dm 6.8.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 233).

Suárez on the Metaphysics and Epistemology of Universals 165
Spanish Jesuit comes to universals only after treating the convoluted issue of
individual unity. The inversion of Scotus’s procedure (apparent in Ordinatio
2.3.1),6 given by the existence of common nature as the evident point of depar-
ture, clearly foreshadows the opposite setting and ‘tuning’ of Suárez’s theory.
Within the context of Suárez’s Disputation, I shall focus on its metaphysico-
epistemological core, which corresponds to what in the logical treatises of
Suárez’s era is more or less presented under the titles “De universale in com
muni” or “De universale secundum se.” This core is located in the first six sec-
tions, and also partially in the seventh and eighth sections, of the dm 6. Focused
on the central metaphysical problem of the ontological foundation of our uni-
versal concepts and their psychogenesis, and on the ontological evaluation of
various types of universals and intentions, the following issues shall be set
aside: the quality and sufficiency of the division of the logical universal into
five predicables;7 the nature of the distinction between the higher metaphysi-
cal grades (e.g., animality and rationality);8 the issue of the actual predication
of the so-called metaphysical abstracts (‘humanity is animality’);9 and the
problem of the physical foundations of logical intentions, i.e., from which
hylomorphic principles the genus and difference are derived.10
Suárez’s terminology is traditionally scholastic. Individual unity, the prop-
erty of being a singular entity, is defined by means of the incommunicability
and indivisibility of many instances of the same kind as the original (divided)
entity. Universal unity, by contrast, is characterized by communicability and
divisibility into individuals of the same kind as the divided entity. Following
Porphyry, Suárez maintains that universals are not communicable in parts, in
the way that a cake can be shared by the members of a family. Nor is it shared
successively, as a used car is shared by all its temporary owners. Universal
unity, rather, is the unity that is communicable to all its instances as a whole
at the same time.11 By using the term ‘communicability’, Suárez explicitly
endorses Aristotle’s definition of the universal as capable of being in many and
also predicable of many.12 Suárez embraces the commonplace typology of uni-
versals, namely, universal in causation (universale in causando), universal in
signification or representation (in significando or repraesentando), universal
6 Duns Scotus, Ordinatio II, d. 3, q. 1 (ed. Vatican, vol. 7, pp. 391–516).

7 See mainly dm 6.8.5-15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 233–236).
8 dm 6.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 236–244).
9 Ibid., 6.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 244–247).
11 Paul Vincent Spade, Five Texts on the Medieval Problem of Universals: Porphyry, Boethius, Abe
lard, Duns Scotus, Ockham, trans. Paul Vincent Spade (Indianapolis, Cambridge, 1994), p. x.
12 Predicability is taken by Suárez as the property of the aptitude to be in many. See dm 6.8.2
(ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 232).
166 Heider
in being (in essendo), and universal in predication (in praedicando). In the

regressive delineation of the subject matter of dm 6 (in the eighth section),
Suárez remarks that the first two kinds of universals are, in fact, not universals,
and thus fall outside the object of enquiry. The universal cause (God) as such,
being eminently the singular being, is universal only in respect to its (heteroge-
neous) effects. The same holds for the universal in signification and represen-
tation. As common terms (written or spoken), or as formal concepts (the
mental acts by which things are apprehended), they are thoroughly singular.
They can be taken as universal only when interpreted as the signs representing
or signifying the multitude of singulars. Consequently, only the third and
fourth types (in essendo and in praedicando) of universal are forthrightly rele-
vant for Suárez’s detailed elaboration of universals in dm 6.13
2 Formal and Individual Unity
The emphasis on the ontological priority of individuality, supported by Suárez’s

statement that the principle of individuation is the whole entity (entitas
tota),14 finds a loud echo at the very beginning of the dm 6. Shall we say that
individual unity is the only kind of transcendental unity, being not only exten-
sionally but also intensionally equivalent to transcendental unity? Though at
the beginning of the dm 5 Suárez claims that the extension of individual unity
is all-embracing because all beings—whether actual or only possible—are
singular, he adds the important qualification ‘immediately’. Thus, by means
of their individuality, it can be said that extramental natures are real beings
(entia realia) as well. Also, the tenor of dm 4.9 (immediately preceding dm 5)
suggests that natures also meet the definition of (transcendental) unity, which
is the privation of division in their formal or essential predicates. For example,
man ex definitione cannot be formally divided into the predicates ‘man’ and
‘non-man’. Mutatis mutandis, the same can be said of the generic (and higher)
predicates.15
It must be said that by endorsing this type of indivision essential to natures
as such, Suárez ranks himself in the broad camp of authors invoking Avicenna’s
theory of indifference of essence.16 As generally known, the interpretation of
13 See dm 6.8.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 232). See also ibid., 6.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 201).
14 See ibid., 5.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 180–188).
15 Ibid., 4.9.13–14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 144–145).
16 Avicenna latinus, Liber de philosophia prima sive scientia divina V–X, critical edition by
S. van Riet and E. Peeters (Louvain, Leiden, 1980), pp. 227–238.
Avicenna’s statement ‘horseness is only horseness’—implying that the essence

of a horse is given solely by its quidditative predicates—has become the object
of various interpretations since the thirteenth century. Two interpretations,
however, have become by far the most influential. The first, established by
Duns Scotus, affirms that the extramental common nature differs from the
individual difference by means of a formal distinction (distinctio formalis),
considered by mainstream Scotists as the actual distinction in a thing itself
(ex natura rei). Along with this interpretation, the common nature is to be con-
sidered not only according to its quidditative predicates (per se primo modo
predicates), but also along with the predicates per se secundo modo, among
which the unity following a nature’s entity is relevant for us. According to the
second approach, initiated by Aquinas, there is nothing more than a so-called
virtual distinction (distinctio virtualis) between the given metaphysical grades.
The grades differ virtually, in the same way as the different ‘virtues’ to warm and
to dry differ in their cause, for example, in the sun. Both virtues, however, are
really one and the same thing, though they are capable of producing two differ-
ent effects. Similarly, two discriminable grades are capable of occasioning two
different notions in our intellect.17 In contrast to Scotus, Aquinas unequivocally
denies any middle distinction between real and conceptual otherness. For him,
common nature is considered only according to quidditative predicates.18
Scotus’s theory undergoes two different interpretations in dm 6. The first
exposition can be characterized as uncharitable, rejecting Scotus because of
his excessive realism. The second, on the other hand, is conciliatory, aiming to
harmonize the theories of both philosophers. The uncharitable stream in the
exposition can be observed right away at the beginning of the dm 6.19 Suárez
claims that Scotus’s thesis about the formal distinction between the common
nature and individual difference inevitably leads to a state of affairs in which
the formal unity remains literally one and the same in things. Albeit the Jesuit’s
interpretation seems not to deny the physical multiplication of formal unity,
Suárez’s metaphysical system does not allow for any distinction other than real
(which can also encompass modal distinctions)20 and conceptual distinctions.
17 See dm 7.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 251).

18 With respect to Avicenna as the milestone in Western metaphysics, see Joseph Owens,
“Common Nature: A Point of Comparison between Thomistic and Scotistic Metaphysics,”
Mediaeval Studies 19 (1957): 1–14.
19 dm 6.1.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 201–202).
20 The extrinsic modal distinction is a type of real distinction, in which its extremes
are separable only asymmetrically. Whereas sitting (sessio) is separable from Peter (who
is sitting), Peter is not separable from his sitting. See dm 7.1.16-26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25,
pp. 255–260).
168 Heider
Scotus’s formal distinction, in Suárez’s rendering, thus becomes the real dis-
tinction sensu stricto.21
2.1 Scotus on the Common Nature According to dm 6.1

Though it is right to regard Suárez as ‘the Problematicist’, who is chiefly seeking
solutions to problems, the historical (scholastic) context in his case cannot be
ignored.22 As has already been suggested, his main point of departure embod-
ies Scotus’s theory of the less than numerical unity of the extramental nature.
What argument, however, could he offer in support of the claim that the extra-
mental nature—with its formal unity—is literally common and one to many
individuals?23 Suárez presents four arguments, of which I shall only discuss
the first three, since the last is really only an extended version of the third argu-
ment. First, leaning on the authority of Aristotle, Suárez claims that the modes
of unity, inclusive of the unity of species and genus, are not conceptual but
real.24 The given kinds of unity must therefore be accepted as the real proper-
ties (passiones) of being. Suárez also refers to the fifth book of the Metaphysics
(chapter 15), which Scotus himself employs. Here, Aristotle confirms the real
status of the unity of species and genus by the link to a real relation of similar-
ity, which cannot be disassociated from the notion of unity. If a real relation is
to be real, it must have a real foundation, which must be considered a partially
identical aspect in both extremes.25 Second, Suárez brings up the argument
that an object, insofar as it is an object, is naturally prior to the cognitive act.26
21 As regards Suárez’s critique of Scotus’s theory of formal distinction as the actual type of
distinction, see dm 7.1.13-15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 254–255). Admittedly, Suárez’s theory of
distinctions can be seen as the common cause of his rather unfaithful interpretations of
Scotus. See Ludger Honnefelder, Scientia transcendens. Die formale Bestimmung der
Seiendheit und Realität in der Metaphysik des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit (Hamburg,
1990), pp. 229–234.
22 As for the label ‘The Problematicist’ in connection with Suárez, see Jorge J.E. Gracia,
Philosophy and Its History. Issues in Philosophical Historiography (New York, 1992),
pp. 268–273.
23 dm 6.1.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 201).
24 Aristotle, Metaphysics, trans. Hugh Tredennick (Cambridge, Mass., London, 1996),
1016b31–1017a4.
25 See Duns Scotus, Ordinatio II, d. 3. p. 1, q. 1 (ed. Vatican, vol. 7, p. 398). See also dm 6.1.3 (ed.
Vivès, vol. 25, p. 202).
26 Duns Scotus, Ordinatio II, d. 3. p. 1, q. 1 (ed. Vatican, vol. 7, p. 394). See also B. Ioannis Duns
Scotus, Quaestiones super libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis, Libri VI–IX, Lib. VII, q. 18, ed.
R. Andrews, G. Etzkorn, G. Gál, R. Green, F. Kelley, G. Marci, T. Noone, and R. Wood
(St. Bonaventure, n.y., 1997), p. 345.
The object is the extramental nature, which is the object of real definition.
Thus, nature cannot have its definability through the intellect’s efficiency. If it
were the intellect that provided a thing with its definability, the definitions
would have to be situated in the intellect. Then, the intellect would be the only
device conferring the requisite unity upon the extramental thing. However,
that would consequently destroy the real character of essential definition and
of scientific enquiry in general. The claim that Peter and Paul are defined by
one and the same definition thus assumes a real unity common to both of
them.27 Suárez then presents a third argument, namely, that the formal unity
of an extramental nature must be seen as the full-blown type of transcenden-
tal unity because each privation of division implies and corresponds to unity
and entity. Distinctively enough, Suárez here introduces the well-known
Thomist evasion, and claims that the nature as such is one and common only
negatively.
Here, a brief digression into the theories of Aquinas and Cajetan is appro-
priate. What does Cajetan, one of the main proponents of the theory of nega-
tive unity, actually mean by the phrase ‘the negative community’ of a nature?
According to Aquinas’s De ente et essentia, the foundational text for all Thomist
versions of moderate realism, nature absolutely considered (natura absolute
considerata) can be neither one nor many, neither singular nor universal. In a
direct link to Avicenna, Aquinas asserts that, as such, nature has only quiddita-
tive predicates. If it were intrinsically one, it could not become particularized;
likewise, if it were many, it could not become one by the intellect’s abstraction.
By that claim, Aquinas in fact denies any unity to nature absolutely consid-
ered.28 In his famous commentary on the treatise in question, Cajetan inter-
prets Aquinas’s denial of unity to nature absolutely considered as a denial only
of numerical unity. Under the strong influence of the Patavian Scotists (headed
by Antonio Trombetta), Cajetan (though not the first Thomist to endorse it)29
attributes a special type of unity to nature as such, namely, formal unity. Yet,
resistant to several Scotistic points of doctrine, Cajetan holds that the given
formal unity is one and common only negatively and deficiently. In an analogy
to a surface (the example used by Suárez) with respect to its colour, one must
consider that if the surface were intrinsically (per se) white, for example, it
could not become non-white, and if intrinsically non-white, it could not
27 Ibid. (ed. Vatican, vol. 7, p. 403). See dm 6.1.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 202).
28 Thomas de Aquino, De ente et essentia, c. 2. <http://www.corpusthomisticum.org/oee
.html>.
29 Thomas de Sutton (in the treatise De natura generis) already ascribes this sort of unity to
nature as such.
170 Heider
become white. Also, the nature as such is neither one (universal) nor many
(singular), because both come to it only on the basis of its existential condi-
tion. What is typical for Cajetan is that its negative (indifferent) character is
ensured not by its quiddity, but only by its specific condition (status), which in
the case of nature absolutely considered is its solitude (isolation). Whenever
that solitude is lost, the negative community and oneness disappear as well.30
That is also why, for Cajetan, nature as such cannot be understood as literally
common.
This theory, tampering with the negative oneness and community of nature
as such, is decisively impugned by Scotists.31 Nature absolutely considered as
formally undivided, even existing extramentally in singulars, must be taken as
formally one and thus formally common. It is not the isolation of nature as
such that makes it common and whose ontological condition gets lost in singu-
lars, but rather, it is the quiddity itself with its necessary properties, among
which the unity with its commonness and indeterminacy stand out. Conceived
as the full-fledged unity ex natura rei, distinct from the individual difference
and taken as a transcendental property, the common formal unity in singulars
cannot be lost.32
2.2 Suárez’s ‘Nominalization’ of Scotus

Suárez’s theory takes its shape from four pregnant conclusions. Whereas the
first can be assessed as being fully in harmony with Scotus’s position, the
remaining three manifest a tendency that can be called ‘the nominalization of
Scotus’. The first conclusion entails a formal unity ‘per se’, which extramentally
belongs to the nature or essence. It is a real unity because, as the arguments for
Scotus show, the negation of essential division is also real.33 The second, in
accordance with what is shown in dm 5.2, where the doctrine on the ontologi-
cal status of individual difference is given as only conceptually added to the
objective concept of the common nature,34 Suárez asserts that formal unity is
30 Thomas de Vio, Caietani, In De ente et essentia D. Thomae Aquinatis, Commentaria, ed.

P.M.-H. Laurent (Turin, 1934), Capitulum IV, p. 93; 96–97.
31 See, e.g., Bartholomeus Mastrius, Cursus philosophicus integer, Metaphysica, Venetiis,
apud Nicolaum Pezzana, 1727, Disp. IX: “De Natura Communi sive Universali,” pp. 96–105.
32 See Duns Scotus, Ordinatio II, d. 3, p. 1, q. 1 (ed. Vactican, vol. 7, p. 404); cf. dm 6.1.5, 7
(ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 202).
33 dm 6.1.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 203).
34 dm 5.2 seems prima facie to indicate that the only intelligibile way for the addition of an
individual thing to common nature is when the common nature is an extramental thing,
independently existent of singulars, to which consequently some other thing is added.
However, that would be an entirely misleading conception, because Suárez decisively
only conceptually distinct from individual unity. The Jesuit is sure that only
this kind of distinction is proved by Scotus’s above-mentioned arguments.
Nevertheless, what all the arguments on behalf of the formally distinct haec-
ceity prove is actually Suárez’s own opinion, which is that individual difference
is only virtually distinct from the specific nature. If the individual difference
differs from the specific nature only conceptually, nothing more can be
expected in the case of the distinction between individual and formal unity.35
The third conclusion is only a confirmation of Suárez’s general anti-Scotistic
attitude: formal unity, he argues, cannot be considered as ex natura rei distinct
from individual unity. Even though individual unity can be prescinded from
common nature and thus considered in ratione as actually different, the spe-
cific nature is truly a real being only when it exists in individuals. In itself, it
does not exhibit sufficient entitative robustness to constitute the extramen-
tally distinct extreme. No being other than an individual (whether in actu or in
potentia) can be a real being (ens reale), namely, a being having an aptitude for
actual existence, the adequate object of Suárez’s metaphysics.36 A fourth con-
clusion, the corollary of the co-existence of individual and formal unity, asserts
that formal unity, insofar as it exists in things themselves, cannot be main-
tained as common to many because it is multiplied (though entitatively, which
for Suárez in fact means in all possible extramental aspects) as many times as
there are individuals. In Suárez’s elimination of the realm of metaphysical for-
malities (realities) by means of the physical (entitative) absorption of the
extramental entity, no other conclusion could have been anticipated. If the
only full-blown extramental unity is individual unity, the specific natures must
be (physically) multiplied in things themselves as well. No extramental thing
can actually be called physically or metaphysically (in the sense of sui generis
dimension of Scotistic formalities) common. Accordingly, the formal unity of
the extramental nature and its community has to be considered as two differ-
ent things.37
denies such an existence. The only way to understand the question of ‘the addition’ is that
what is added is the specific nature, understood on the level of the objective concept,
which is the extramental thing inasmuch as it is cognized. Suárez thus distinguishes two
sub-questions in the issue of the addition of ‘res individua’ to the specific nature. The first
one regards the added object, which must be conceived as real. The second query con-
cerns the way of addition, which, in contrast, is to be regarded as something arising ‘per
rationem’. See dm 5.2.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 153).
35 dm 6.1.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 203).
36 Regarding the definition of ens reale or essentia realis, see dm 2.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25,
pp. 87–92). See also dm 6.1.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 203–204).
37 dm 6.1.11-12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 204).
172 Heider
It has been said that Suárez takes Scotus’s arguments as actually proving his
own conclusion. How, though, does Suárez reinterpret the above-mentioned
arguments from Scotus’s theory? What do they actually prove? Suárez is con-
vinced that they are, at most, evidence that the unity and commonality of the
specific nature is fundamental. The fundamental commonality, moreover, is
not the literal community but the qualified resemblance of individuals of the
same kind, which all exhibit the multiplied formal unities defined by means of
the same formal indivision. Independent of the operation of understanding,
individuals of the same kind are not one thing with true unity. Formal unity is
thus fully in accord with numerical (entitative) multiplication. It is incompat-
ible only with essential dissimilarity.38 Only if individuals are dissimilar in the
degree that they happen to be inconceivable by the common formal concept,
then formal unity of the given things can be denied to them.39 Although Suárez
subscribes to Scotus’s statement that nature does not have its definability
through the agency of the intellect, he remarks that it holds only fundamen-
tally and remotely. Real definitions are not properly in things but in the intel-
lect. Contrary to Scotus, for Suárez, any condition laid on a real definition is far
from being connected with the assumption of the existence of the common
nature ex natura rei different from the individual differences.40 Its reality is
sufficiently justified by the assumption of the extramental essence, considered
solely in its quidditative predicates.41
3 Formal and Universal Unity
After his exposition of formal unity, Suárez ontologically evaluates universal

unity. It has been said that formal unity is real unity, though admittedly a defi-
cient one. Instead of being a truly positive unity, it is the multitude of individu-
als, related by an essential affinity rooted in the formal unities of each singular’s
essence. Universal unity, on the other hand, includes two notes in its definition,
namely, unity and communicability. Without being one, it cannot be regarded
as one universal, but at most as an aggregate of things (ens per accidens). Free of
communicability, moreover, universal unity would turn into individual unity.42

39 As for this definition of the fundamental sameness or resemblance, see James F. Ross,
“Suárez on Universals,” The Journal of Philosophy 59 (1962): 736–748, p. 745.
40 dm 6.1.13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 204–205).
3.1 Suárez on the Distinction between Formal and Universal Unity

By saying that formal unity is the plurality of essentially similar individuals,
any identification of formal unity with universal unity is ruled out by Suárez in
advance. Formal unity alone is not sufficient for the unity of a universal nature
(the first conclusion). Three affiliated arguments are subsequently brought in.
(1) The unity of a universal thing, inasmuch as it is universal, must be the unity
that is peculiar to it. It cannot belong to a singular insofar as it is a singular.
That, however, is exactly what happens to formal unity. Though formal unity
does not intrinsically require material division, it does not necessitate being
conceived as universal, either. As indifferent to both, it can exist while being
under both conditions, that is, as particularized and as universalized.
(2) Universal unity, insofar as it is universal, cannot be multiplied according to
a number. If it were, the specific unity would be numerically divisible as well.
Consequently, one would obtain the same number of kinds as the number of
individuals. The universal man would thus be multiplied into Peter and Paul,
who would consequently become the exclusive representatives of their own
species. Suárez points out that universal unity is not what is divided, but rather
what is participated in by its inferiors and what makes the particulars one (e.g.,
of the same kind).43 (3) Universal unity bespeaks the undividedness of several
things in a thing that is denominated universally one, so that none of those
inferiors contained under it, taken by itself, possesses that whole universal
unity.44 Accordingly, universal (specific) unity is to be taken as the quasi-
potential whole, of which, contrary to formal unity, it cannot be said that it is
composed by itself and in itself of some individual entity. Universal unity is
not the actual whole, which bespeaks the multipliable formal indivision, but
the potential whole by means of which all things are one.45 It may be con-
cluded that all these arguments show that universal unity makes up a distinct
kind of unity, different both from individual and formal unity. Although it
includes formal indivision, it differs from it as well. In addition, it requires
undividedness and (proximate) disposition to be in many.46
Regarding the second conclusion, Suárez offers the expected statement: the
unity of universal nature qua universal is not real and is not in things, insofar
43 See also Porphyry, Isagogé, ed. and trans. Paul Vincent Spade, p. 6.
44 It is necessary to distinguish between ‘undividedness’ and ‘indivision’. Whereas (formal)
indivision does not rule out the numerical (material) division, the undivideness of uni-
versal unity does. As for this distinct English terminology, see Francis Suarez, On Formal
and Universal Unity, trans. James F. Ross (Milwaukee, wi, 1964), p. 45.
45 dm 6.2.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 209).
46 dm 6.2.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 209–10).
174 Heider
as they exist in reality independently of the operation of understanding. By

that claim, Suárez prima facie seems to rule out tout court the opinion that
universal unity as such can somehow be grounded in extramental things.47
Only individual and formal unity are unqualifiedly real. Nevertheless, the only
specification in the case of formal unity, not with respect to its reality, is the
fact that formal unity, strictly speaking, is not a unity but the relation of simi-
larity. Moreover, the relation of resemblance is not only insufficient but also
unnecessary for being universal. It need not be actually instantiated by the
plurality of essentially similar instances. Thus, the nature of heaven can be
universal without the assumption of the existence of an actual multitude of
similar instances of nature. What is indispensable here is only its dispositional
communicability.48
3.2 Fonseca on Universal Unity and the Aptitude to Being in Many

The main challenge to Suárez’s doctrine on the unity of universal nature is not
represented by Scotus, but rather by Pedro da Fonseca (1528–1599). Without
exaggeration, it can be said that Fonseca represents one of the strongest his-
torical influences upon Suárez’s doctrine of universals. That impact is predom-
inantly negative, however.49
In his Commentary on Aristotle’s Metaphysics (book 5, chapter 28, question 3)
Fonseca advances four conclusions, of which the third and fourth later become
the object of Suárez’s critique. The first two can be regarded as being in har-
mony with Suárez’s thought. They assert: (1) universal unity is not the numeri-
cal unity proper to singular things; and (2) the unity of universal things cannot
be sought in the genus of formal unity because formal unity is multiplied,
whereas universal unity excludes such multiplication. After the first part of the
third thesis, Fonseca holds that universal unity must be peculiar to universal
things. So far, there is no disagreement with Suárez. However, Fonseca then
adds that such unity can pertain to universal things only insofar as they are
prior to their determination (contraction) by particulars. Fonseca is clear about
the fact that, as particularized, they necessarily lose their aptitude to be in
47 In dm 3.2, Suárez’s identification of ‘the unity of reason’ and the universal unity shall be
specified. One thing can be stated beforehand. Were universal unity entirely the unity of
reason, it would be difficult to justify its presence in Suárez’s metaphysical project, which
is devoted to the kinds of transcendental (i.e., real) unity.
48 dm 6.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 210–211).
49 As regards the comparison of the philosophical doctrines of Suárez and the more realist
doctrine of Fonseca, see Stephen Menn, “Suárez, Nominalism and Modes,” in Hispanic
Philosophy in the Age of Discovery, ed. Kevin White (Washington, d.c., 1997), pp. 201–225.
many. That is also why the nature of man as such cannot per se (intrinsically)
preempt that unity. If it did, then it would have to have it also when being par-
ticularized. It can have it only per accidens, that is, by means of its absolute
status of solitude (isolation), which is understood by Fonseca as the condition
naturally antecedent to the particular determination. Thus, only by having the
unity of precision (unitas praecisionis) can it also have the aptitude for being in
many. The fourth conclusion, the unity of precision as a distinct type of unity,
must be conceived as a mixture of formal and numerical unity. By virtue of
belonging to nature, it has something of a formal unity, with which it is never-
theless not identical because formal unity is not able to justify the ascription of
a number to a common nature. It is clear as daylight, however, that we do in
fact count natures, for example, we say that human and equine natures are two
natures. Consequently, the item of numerical unity cannot be restricted only
to the singulars afflicted by the accident of quantity. As such, it must also be
opened to entities having the unity of precision.50 Formal unity in itself cannot
be regarded as a sufficient guarantee of the attribution of numerical unity to
the universal nature because of its multiplication. That is why the unity of pre-
cision must also have numerical unity. Alongside this, there are many predi-
cates belonging exclusively to the nature absolutely considered, which belong
to it neither intrinsically as quidditative predicates nor as being particularized,
but only because of its absolute status prior to contraction by particulars. As
examples, Fonseca mentions predicates such as ‘not to be generated’, ‘not to be
corrupted’, ‘not to exist really’, and ‘not to walk’.51
How does Fonseca understand the aptitude of universal things to be in
many? Following Fonseca’s doctrine on the unity of precision, the aptitude
50 Petrus Fonseca, Commentariorum Petri Fonsecae Societatis Jesu: In Metaphysicarum

Aristotelis Stagiritae [hereafter In Metaphysicarum], Lib. 5 Met., c. XXVIII, q. III, sect. I–II,
Haeredum Lazari Zetzneri (Coloniae, 1615), pp. 959–960. The same theory can be found
also in Thomas de Sutton’s treatise De natura generis, which Fonseca, as all of his contem-
poraries, falsely attributes to Aquinas (see Fonseca, ibid., p. 968). Regarding the same
ascription made by Suárez, see dm 6.3.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 211). Regarding the general
opinion in the sixteenth century that De natura generis is the authentic writing of
Aquinas, see Ester Caruso, Pedro Hurtado de Mendoza e la Rinascita del nominalismo nella
Scolastica del Seicento (Firenze, 1979), pp. 74–75, note 125. “…licet in natura animalis non
sit unitas vel pluralitas secundum quod est nata recipi in pluribus inferioribus, cum possit
in uno recipi et in pluribus, est tamen in ipsa natura, absolute accepta et secundum quod
non est in inferioribus considerata, quaedam unitas, cum definitio eius sit una, et nomen
unum, ut patet” (Thomas de Sutton, De natura generis, c. 4, <http://www.corpusthomisti
cum.org/xpg.html>).
51 Fonseca, In Metaphysicarum, sect. IV, p. 967.
176 Heider
cannot be had by the common nature in singulars. In contrast to Scotus and

Suárez, Fonseca affirms that no nature in singulars can have the remote apti-
tude to be in many.52 Fonseca adduces three arguments for this point. (1) The
theory working with the notion of remote potency, identified with the formal
unity of extramental nature, cannot be correct because one cannot assume the
simultaneous determination and indetermination in numerically the same
thing and according to the same aspect. Thus, the human nature in Peter is
fully determined to Peter in a way that it currently cannot retain its indetermi-
nacy towards being in Paul. It might be objected that the indetermination of
human nature to the plurality of individuals is, after all, compatible with the
determination to Peter because the determinacy and indeterminacy are con-
ceived according to different aspects (rationes). Once human nature is under-
stood as determined to Peter, at another time it can be taken as naturally prior
to the individual contraction because as such, it is not of itself singular. Fonseca
retorts that if both unities were compatible, it could be said that Peter cur-
rently disposes of the habitual knowledge of Greek grammar, namely, after its
acquisition, and does not dispose of the same habitual knowledge insofar
as temporally preceding that acquisition. That, however, is nothing less than
a contradiction.53 (2) If human nature in Peter had the aptitude to be in Paul,
then the singular nature of Peter could be in Paul. That, nevertheless, would
turn singular unity to communicable unity, which also entails a contradic-
tion.54 (3) The putative remote aptitude of human nature can be either numer-
ically one and the same in all singulars, or many and particularized. The first
alternative implies an absurd state of affairs that would impede, among others,
the very possibility of creation and annihilation. If numerically one and the
same man were in all human beings, Paul could not be created because the
numerically same human nature would already exist in Peter. Similarly, Peter
could not be annihilated because the numerically same man would still remain
in Paul. The second possibility is not much better. Given that the aptitude to be
in many is multiplied, whence does human nature receive its numerical unity,
which is necessary for universal unity? Some advocates of that option reply
that numerical unity is ensured by the common concept representing human
nature as numerically one species. A strong predilection in thoroughgoing
realism nevertheless prevents Fonseca from agreeing with that claim. Fonseca
is sure that such a reply is nothing other than a side step, illegitimately deriving
52 As regards Scotus’s opinion, see Scotus, Quaestiones subtilissimae super libros Meta
physicorum Aristotelis, Lib. VII. Metaph., q. XVIII (St. Bonaventure, 1996), pp. 347–348.
53 Fonseca, In Metaphysicarum, q. IV, sect. 4, pp. 979–980.
54 Fonseca, In Metaphysicarum, q. IV, sect. 4, p. 980.
the unity of what is represented from what it is representing by which a circu

lus vitiosus is committed. Followers of the second option can agree with
Fonseca’s reply and state that in order to designate human nature as numeri-
cally one universal thing, it is necessary to have recourse to the formal unity of
human nature, this time conceived not as multiplied in singulars but precisely
as common. Not even that solution, however, can be accepted (though it is in
fact embraced by Suárez). For Fonseca, something cannot be called numeri-
cally one by means of unity, which in itself is not numerically one. Formal
unity, though taken precisely, can never be numerically one.
Human nature can be considered as numerically one only by means of what
Fonseca calls the unity of precision.55 The given disposition must be some-
thing positive, which is for Fonseca nothing other than a potential or aptitudi-
nal mode that the nature possesses prior to its contraction into singulars.
Fonseca identifies this mode with the mode that an effect has while still being
in its cause(s). The potential mode, accountable for the nature’s ability to be in
many, is considered as the separable (extrinsic) mode, which does not belong
to the nature intrinsically, but only contingently. It pertains to it only when
having the abovementioned special status of potentiality, which is prior to the
status of actuality occasioned by its determination by particulars. When the
nature is reduced to actuality from potentiality, the unity of precision, together
with its potential mode, necessarily becomes lost.56
3.3 Suárez’s Dismissal of Fonseca’s Unity of Precision

In structural analogy to Fonseca, Suárez also distinguishes between the predi-
cates belonging to nature per se and those belonging to it because of its soli-
tude. The term per se (secundum se) designates the necessary connection of a
predicate and subject. For example, the predicates ‘animal’ and ‘rational’
belong per se to ‘man’ because both are the quidditative parts of the definition
of ‘man’. The same can be said about properties (propria), such as being risible
(esse risibile). If the term per se is understood in that quidditative sense, Suárez
agrees with Fonseca that universal unity does not belong per se to the nature.
It is clear that the unity of precision is not part of the necessary connection
between the subject and the predicate. The phrase per se, nevertheless, can be
also considered in the sense of ‘solitarily (absolutely) considered’. After that
exposition, still in agreement with Fonseca, Suárez says that the predicates
attributed to the nature in that way belong to it only contingently by means
of a certain ‘existential’ condition. However, whereas for Fonseca nature’s
55 Ibid., q. IV, s. 4, pp. 980–983.

56 Ibid., q. IV, s. 2, pp. 974–975.
178 Heider
solitude is the status belonging to nature prior to its particularization, Suárez

unambiguously dismisses that claim as entirely inconceivable. For him, there
are no predicates belonging to nature, which is taken according to that poten-
tial status. All the above-mentioned predicates can be easily shown to belong
to the nature only a posteriori, either as being the intrinsic part of a singular or
as being abstracted by the intellect.57
Every being and unity, if it is to be real, must be either singular or exist in
particulars. Thus, the statement claiming that the extramental unity of preci-
sion becomes lost when contracted by particulars commits an obvious offence
against that premise. If the given unity of precision disappeared when con-
tracted by particulars, it could exist neither as singular nor as its part. It can be
objected that the extramental unity of precision belongs to the nature accord-
ing to its essential being (esse essentiae), never according to its existential
being (esse existentiae). Though according to the existential being it can exist
only as particularized, or intentionally, it is no less true that according to the
essential being it can (additionally) exist ‘absolutely’. Suárez refutes this objec-
tion by reference to the adequate object of metaphysics, which is for him real
being. Real being, according to Suárez, cannot be considered without the fea-
ture of the real aptitude to (actually) be. If the aspect of actual producibility
were missing, a real being would be immediately replaced by a being of reason
(ens rationis). If the unity of precision cannot belong to the nature as existent
in singulars, then it cannot pertain to the nature, which has the disposition to
be either. Moreover, the extramental unity of precision cannot belong to the
nature taken potentially because it cannot belong to it as being in actu. The
parallelism of universality and individuality in the order of actual and poten-
tial being precludes the ontological asymmetry advocated by Fonseca.58 The
same distinction found between the common nature and individual difference
of an existent thing must be considered within a possible being.59
What about the negative predicates that allegedly claim that nature has the
unity of precision? These predications are, for Suárez, nothing other than
sophistical equivocation. The predicates in propositions such as ‘nature as
such is not generated’ are said not of nature having the extramental unity of
precision, but only of the nature occurring in individuals or in the intellect.
Recourse to Fonseca’s theory, furthermore, can be avoided by the following
analyses. First, the propositions can be understood to hold with respect to the
nature having the unity of precision formed by the intellect. By contraction, in
57 dm 6.3.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 213–214); see also ibid., 6.3.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 212).
58 As regards this parallelism, see also dm 5.5.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 178).
59 dm 6.3.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 212–213).
particulars, the natures become generable and corruptible; by being abstracted,

on the other hand, they become resistant to becoming (fieri). If they are inter-
preted in that way, negative propositions can be considered as true because the
abstracted natures also abstract from the ‘hic et nunc’, and thus from corrupt-
ibility. By receiving the rational unity of precision they happen to be at least
negatively ubiquitous and eternal.60 Second, the given sentences can be shown
to be so unqualifiedly, namely, in the manner that the natures as such are in no
way generated and corrupted. If they are read in that fashion, the propositions
are not true. It holds that, at least by means of their existence in individuals,
they are subjected to ‘fieri’. Thus, at least secondarily, they are generable and
corruptible. Third, those propositions can be expounded as follows: “The
nature as such is not generated (corrupted) essentially in the first mode (per se
primo modo), but only by means of individuals, in which it exists.” If they are
interpreted according to this manner, they can be considered as true. However,
then they are not about the natures having the extramental unity of precision,
but only about the natures existent in individuals. It must be concluded that
the above-mentioned predicates, according to Suárez, do not belong to natures
having an extramental unity of precision, but only to the natures existent in
individuals or abstracted in the intellect.61
3.4 Suárez on the Disposition to Being in Many

The refusal of the extramental unity of precision leads Suárez also to rebut
Fonseca’s theory of the potential mode, which exists in universal nature prior
to its determination by particulars. Despite no explicit mention of Fonseca in
DM 6.4, the whole ‘Dico secundo’ can be considered an ongoing implicit cri-
tique of Fonseca’s doctrine.62 The disposition to exist in many things, he claims,
cannot be the real property belonging to common nature prior to the opera-
tion of the intellect. First, if the nature can be considered as precised only by
the intellect, then analogically the disposition to being in many can belong to
the nature only as precised by the intellect. Second, that disposition can belong
either to the nature taken as existent or as non-existent. It cannot pertain to it
as existent, though, since it does not exist unless made individual through
identity. However, it cannot be said that it belongs to it as non-existent either
because the same principle governs individuality and universality in the order
60 By using the term ‘negatively eternal’ Suárez refers to Aquinas, namely, to st I, q. 16, a. 2,
ad 2. Ultimately, universals can be called eternal only with respect to some eternal intel-
lect, which is the Divine intellect. See dm 6.7.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 231).
61 dm 6.3.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 213).
62 Ibid., 6.4.6-9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 218–220).
180 Heider
of actual and possible being. Thus, the given aptitude cannot be held as a prop-
erty belonging to the nature independent of understanding. Third, the aptitu-
dinal mode of being in many does not find its place in Suárez’s metaphysical
system. The extrinsic mode can be considered only as the real being (parasiti-
cal to its ‘res’, though), which cannot be something that is unable to exist in
actu. By being called real and positive, it must ipso facto be included in the
extension of real being. Nevertheless, if it ex definitione cannot exist outside
its causes, it does not make sense to accept it as ‘real’ and thus as prior to
understanding.63
Suárez then turns to the second negative ‘Dico’, this time focused on what he
labels the ultrarealist interpretation of Duns Scotus, who claims that the dispo-
sition to being in many occurs in nature insofar as it exists ‘a parte rei’.64 The
critique is underlined by Suárez’s analogy between prime matter and substan-
tial form, and between common nature and individual difference, which he
attributes to the advocates of the thesis. According to the claim, the common
nature of Peter retains its remote disposition to being in Paul in the same way
as prime matter, being informed by the substantial form of Peter, keeps its
remote ability to being in Paul. Even though it does not have the proximate
potentiality to be in Paul, because it is impeded by the substantial form of
Peter, it can be a part of Paul provided that the substantial form of Peter is
replaced by the substantial form of Paul. The same holds for the aptitude of the
common nature being under the individual difference of Peter to be in Paul.
Suárez waives that analogy by adverting to the crucial distinction between
those two types of composition: the hylemorphic composite as the distinction
between two incomplete beings is real,65 while the compound of the common
nature and individual difference is only conceptual (having its foundation in
things). That is why the common nature existing in Peter cannot lose the indi-
vidual difference of Peter and acquire the different individual difference of
Paul in the same way as it occurs in the successive exchange of substantial
forms in the numerically same prime matter.66

64 About the ultrarealist interpretation of Scotus claiming that the common nature exists in
singulars ‘per inexistentiam’, see Johannes Kraus, Die Lehre des Johannes Duns Skotus
O.F.M. von der Natura communis. Ein Beitrag zum Universalienproblem in der Scholastik
(Freiburg, Paderborn, Paris, 1927), p. 65.
65 The contrast between two types of composites is even more evident when Suárez’s reifi-
cation of prime matter is taken into account. By virtue of that prime matter having the
entitative act (actus entitativus), Divine intervention can exist without the substantial
form. See dm 15.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 532–536).
66 dm 6.4.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 216–217).
Having eliminated two rival theories, Suárez comes up with his own two-
part conclusion. First, the disposition of a common nature to being in many is
only indifference or non-repugnance that has its basis within nature in itself
(secundum se). Secondly, ‘in actu’ belongs to the nature only insofar as the
nature undergoes an abstraction of the intellect. By that dual conclusion,
Suárez, as he himself acknowledges, endorses the position of Cajetan and
other Thomists.67 How does he explain it though? Suárez expounds his conclu-
sion by raising the two possible interpretations of his claim that the non-repug-
nancy to being in many has its basis in nature in itself. According to the first
interpretation, it can be said that the non-repugnance to being in many belongs
of itself and positively to the nature by virtue of its formal unity. Predictably,
Suárez considers this interpretation implausible. If it were so, the given indif-
ference would have to be inseparable from the nature and thus it would have to
accompany it everywhere, that is, also in extramental reality, which is not com-
patible with Suárez’s emphasis on its particularization. The second interpreta-
tion maintains, on the other hand, that the non-repugnance to being in many
is not something positive by virtue of the formal unity, but only something
negative by virtue of its formal unity, which is taken absolutely (ex vi unitatis
suae formalis precise sumptae). Suárez embraces this second interpretation. It
has been said that formal unity is of itself indifferent to individual unity. The
repugnancy to nature’s being in many thus comes to it not from formal unity
but from individual unity. What is important is that the given basis of this non-
repugnancy to being in many is for Suárez not something that would exist
exclusively as abstracted by the intellect, but as something existing in the thing
itself (in re existens).68 Nevertheless, Suárez does not think of remote potency
as (metaphysical) potency, overlaid by the ‘ex natura rei’ distinct metaphysical
act, but only as the natural condition of a finite nature, which is why the multi-
plication of individuals within the same species is not repugnant to it.69
67 For Cajetan, the conception of nature absolutely considered is not compatible with the
condition ‘existing outside the soul’. Human nature existing extramentally can never be
considered as negatively common. As negatively common, it can be considered only
when it is considered extramentally and in itself (Cajetan, In De ente et essentia D. Thomae
Aquinatis, p. 96). My interpretative hypothesis is that Cajetan’s position, in contrast to
Suárez’s, led to two different interpretations. Although Cajetan is inclined to admit to the
validity of the exposition espoused by Suárez—to be common negatively pertains to the
nature existent in the extramental singular things—the Thomist accent on the solitude of
nature, after all, can also be accepted as a certain indication that Cajetan considers nature
absolutely considered in Fonseca’s sense of the unity of precision.
68 dm 6.4.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 220).
69 dm 6.4.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 220–221).
182 Heider
The second part of Suárez’s ‘Dico’ results from what has been said above.
The nature’s actual non-repugnance to being in many is not enough for it
not to be determined from itself, provided that it has determination from
elsewhere (the individual difference). It must be absolutely and entirely
(simpliciter) indifferent. That kind of indifference can be attributed neither to
the nature existent prior to its determination by individuals, nor to the nature
that exists extramentally in things themselves, but only to the nature insofar as
it exists objectively in understanding.70 Thus Suárez—being led by the Jesuit’s
conciliatory ethos—declares this statement as commonplace, and as ascribed
not only to Aristotle, Averroes, Albert the Great, Aquinas, Durandus, Giles of
Rome, and all Thomists, but even to Scotus, despite the fact that “his words are
particularly equivocal.”71
4 Epistemology of Universals and Intentions
Despite the fact that the context of dm 6 is metaphysical, Suárez devotes the
whole sixth section to the issue of the psychogenesis of universals and inten-
tions.72 In the context of universals the word ‘intentio’ has a twofold meaning:
the term of the intellective operations (the so-called intentio intellecta) and the
logical (second) intention, which is built upon the first. The reason why Suárez
deals with the issue of the psychogenesis of universals in the whole section of
dm 6 is not to give the fullest possible elaboration of the complex problematic
of universals in all its disciplinary facets,73 but above all to pave the way for the
ontological evaluation of the various types of universals, among which the
metaphysical (universale metaphysicum) and logical universals (universale
logicum) stand out.
4.1 The Direct and Comparative Acts of the Intellect

It has been said that universal unity is to be identified with the unity of reason.
As other scholastics, Suárez surmises that the intellect, by virtue of its immate-
riality, is the exceptional power capable of generating universality. It remains
to answer by which type of intellective act it arises. Three options are

73 That cannot be the case because the question of the logical intentions and predicables,
when compared to the extensive discussions common in the logical treatises of Suárez’s
contemporaries, is treated only marginally.
presented, which all have their own ramified psychology fully-fashioned in De

anima.74 The first option is the agent intellect (intellectus agens), which, by
means of abstraction from images (phantasmata), directly produces the intel-
ligible species (species intelligibilis) representing the universal quiddity of a
material singular. The passive intellect (intellectus possibilis), on the other
hand, is the receptacle, and is quite different from the agent intellect as its
main function is the reception and retention of the universally representative
species, previously abstracted by the agent intellect. On the level of intentional
representation, the dematerialization of the sensible species from the material
phantasmata equals their de-individualization. Whereas sensory cognition (as
Aristotle says)75 is bound to the direct cognition of sensible particulars, the
intellect, on the level of direct and immediate cognition, is restricted to the
apprehensive abstraction of material quiddities. As is well known, Suárez is a
sharp critic of all versions of the material principle of individuation76 and of
the epistemological claim that material singulars are grasped by the intellect
only indirectly by their conversion to phantasmata.77 For Suárez, the demate-
rialization of singular sensible species cannot be considered as implying their
de-individualization. At most, it may be seen as their spiritualization or eleva-
tion from the material to the spiritual order. The representative function of an
intentional species remains basically the same. Individuals must be known
directly by the intellect, by means of their proper and distinct species.78 As is
well known, by that criticism Suárez detaches himself from Aquinas, for whom
material singulars are cognized only indirectly and by means of reflection on
sensory images. That critique alone is evidence that Suárez’s complex theory of
universals, despite the strong resemblance to the theory of Aquinas and
Cajetan, cannot be considered as a pure offshoot of Thomism.
74 In the context of intentions, the most important are the issues of intentional (intelligi-
bile) species, intellective acts, and mental word (expressed species). Unfortunately, all
those issues cannot be dealt with in the scope of this essay. See da 5.1-5.
75 Aristotle, On the Soul, ed. and trans. W S. Hett (Cambridge, Massachusetts, London,
England, 2000), 417b22-24.
76 See dm 5.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 161–175).
77 As for Suárez’s theory of the intellective cognition of material singulars, see da 9.3.1-11. As
regards the lucid presentation of Suárez’s theory of the intellective cognition of singulars
and universals, see James B. South, “Singular and Universal in Suárez’s Account of
Cognition,” Review of Metaphysics 55 (2002): 785–826.
78 Regarding Suárez’s theory of intelligibile species (species intelligibilis), see Leen Spruit,
Species intelligibilis. From Perception to Knowledge, vol. 2 (Leiden, New York, Köln, 1995),
pp. 294–306.
184 Heider
Given the epistemological point of departure, formulated already in the

notes to his lectures held in Segovia in the 1570s (published posthumously in
De anima, 1621), Suárez makes allowance for two other options, which he does
not find mutually exclusive. Thus, universals can come up either by the abso-
lute precisive act of the passive intellect, by which nature is grasped and sepa-
rated from its individuality according to its essence (nature) and its precise
formal ‘ratio’, or they can be produced by the collative or comparative act, by
which the nature, directly prescinded from particulars, is related to things, in
which it extramentally exists, and from which it has been abstracted. According
to the first option, it holds that after the intellect’s conception of the proper
and distinct concept of Peter (the epistemological point of departure for
Suárez), it comes to cut off Peter’s common nature from his individual differ-
ence (both being in re virtually distinct). It must be said that, contrary to the
interpretations viewing Suárez as a representative of a crude form of concep-
tualism basically dependent on the abstractio per confusionem,79 it is the direct
objective precision (abstractio per praecisionem), realizable on a unique sam-
ple, that separates one of the extramental metaphysical components from the
other. Every comparison of Peter and Paul according to the common aspect
‘being a man’ already assumes the precisive isolation of that common essence.
Even though the Jesuit’s repeatable refusal of the claim that the (univocal) sor-
tal similarity must be based on extramental partial unity, which is ‘ex natura
rei’ distinct from individual difference,80 Suárez is working with the notion of
identical essence, generable by the direct precisive act of the intellect, which
he considers to be the inevitable assumption of each comparison of particu-
lars. Without the very detection of that identical essence, similar things could
not be identified as similar.81 That is why the comparison of particulars comes
only after the objective precision of the absolute universal.
Leaving aside the universal acquired by the direct precisive act, the
full-blown (logical) universal is to be thought primarily as the relational
79 The abstraction per confusionem entails only the production of analogical concepts. The
concepts originated by that type of abstraction are not univocal because the contrary and
incompatible differences are actually fused in them. The uncharitable interpretation of
Suárez is presented, for example, in Francisco L. Peccorini, “Suárez’s Struggle with the
Problem of the One and the Many,” The Thomist 36 (1972): 433–471; “Knowledge of the
Singular: Aquinas, Suárez and Recent Interpreters,” The Thomist 38 (1974): 605–655.
80 See dm 6.9.19-20 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 242–243).
81 See ibid., 6.6.11-12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 228). The similar refusal of the interpretation of
Suárez as a crude resemblance of nominalism is brought in Walter Hoeres, “Wesenheit
und Individuum bei Suarez,” Scholastik 37 (1962): 181–210, especially p. 210.
entity.82 As such, it arises, as has been suggested, by means of a comparison of

an abstracted nature with its inferior natures, which comes after the compari-
son of the plurality of singulars of the same kind or of the same genus (inferi-
ors need not be only extramental singulars but also the logical intentions, such
as species). It is by means of a comparison of the nature with its inferiors that
one obtains a notion of the respective universal. Suárez is confident that the
universal abstracted by the precisive act constitutes the proximate foundation
for that respective universal. The direct universal (the output of the precisive
act) cannot be considered the respective universal because it is only the abso-
lute entity, likened by Suárez to Plato’s idea of existing intellectually. Even
though the direct universal is exposed relationally—and as such it is endowed
with ‘the accident’ of indifference and the disposition to being in many things
implying the relational aspect—the given relation is the real and transcenden-
tal relation. The transcendental relation, as it is well known, is fully compatible
with the existence of absolute reality.83
4.2 The Ontological Evaluation of the First and Second Intentions

In contrast to William of Ockham’s psychological theory of intentions that
considers concepts as natural signs (the acts of intellection), that is, as (men-
tal) singular acts inhering subjectively in the mind, Suárez’s register is
broader.84 If a satisfactory theory of predication is to be given, according to
Suárez one cannot tamper only with the subjective concepts rigidly belonging
to the category of quality. What is conceived when one apprehends man does
not fall under the category of quality but under the category of substance.
Moreover, a singular entity (subjective concept) cannot be predicated of
another singular entity. The mental sign of man, for example, cannot be said of
the mental sign of Peter. Those are the reasons that led Suárez to embrace,
82 The very etymology of ‘universal’ suggests the relational aspect of one above the many,
one against the many, and one in many. As regards Suárez’s own affirmation concerning
the respective nature of the universal qua universal, see, e.g., dm 6.6.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25,
p. 225).
83 See da 5.3.30; dm 47.4.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 803); ibid., 6.6.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 227).
84 As regards Ockham’s doctrines on intentions, see Larry Hickman, Modern Theories of
Higher Level Predicates. Second Intentions in the Neuzeit (München, 1980), pp. 38–42 (the
first intentions), pp. 73–84 (the second intentions). Suárez’s conception of the first and
second intentions is one of the numerous evidences that Ockham’s authority, with respect
to Suárez’s theory of universals, is not to be overestimated. As for the substantial differ-
ences between Suárez and Ockham on the level of the ontological status of universal
concepts, see Carlos P. Noreña, “Ockham and Suárez on the Ontological Status of
Universal Concepts,” The New Scholasticism 3 (1981): 348–362.
186 Heider
besides the formal concepts, also the objective concepts, whose ontological
status varies according to the given content of this or that concept.85
It has been said that the universally denominated nature, in accordance
with what the authors of early modern scholasticism commonly called the
physical (material) universal (universale physicum, materialiter sumptum),
exists extramentally. It is labelled ‘physical’ because it is determined by par-
ticulars by means of which it is also subjected to sensible accidents and
changes, which are the domain of natural philosophy. At the same time,
though, the physical universal is not entirely extrinsic to metaphysical and
logical investigations. It exhibits the formal unity that pertains to the meta-
physical investigation treating the kinds of transcendental unity. Moreover,
formal unity can also be found among immaterial beings such as God, which
makes it all the more the object of metaphysics.86 As such (at least indirectly),
it also belongs to logic because it constitutes the remote foundation of the
intention (or second intention) of universality.87
As extrinsically denominated, the physical nature ‘dresses up’ the objective
being; it becomes the objective concept. Besides the formal concept (prima
intentio seu conceptus formalis), Suárez also accepts the first objective inten-
tion (prima intentio objectiva). Admittedly, the ontological evaluation of the
first objective intention is one of the trickiest issues in Suárez’s philosophy in
general, and we cannot delve into the details of the discussion here.88
Nevertheless, one finds sufficient textual evidence that, as compared with
Scotists and Thomists,89 Suárez’s theory of the objective intention is willing to
85 As regards Suárez’s ‘realistic’ presentation of the ontological status of objective concept,

see mainly dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 64–65).
86 dm 6.2.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 210).
87 Ibid., 6.8.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 232). See also da 9.3.22.
88 As an example of a certain intrinsic ambiguity of the objective concept in Suárez, follow
the illustrative discussion between Jorge J.E. Gracia and Norman J. Wells. See: Jorge
J.E. Gracia, “Suárez’s Conception of Metaphysics: A Step in the Direction of Mentalism?”
American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 65 (1991): 287–310; Norman J. Wells, “Esse
Cognitum and Suárez Revisited,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 67 (1993):
339–348; Jorge J.E. Gracia, “Suárez and Metaphysical Mentalism: The Last Visit,” American
Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 67 (1993): 349–354.
89 As the representative of the ontological evaluation, according to which the first objective
intentions are beings of reason, see, for instance, the theory of the Franciscan Scotist,
Constantine Sarnanus (d. 1595). About the detailed exposition of Sarnanus’s theory, see
Larry Hickman, Modern Theories of Higher Level Predicates. Second Intentions in the Neuzeit,
pp. 44–47. Despite the doctrinal resemblance with Thomists, the difference in accent
can be observed in the ontological impact of the device of extrinsic denomination.
admit both evaluations, that is, as implying both real and rational being. The
first objective intention is the abstracted nature (natura abstracta), which
exists only intellectually. Two aspects are to be distinguished in its genesis. In
the first phase, the given intention is neither something existing in the extra-
mental nature (it does not exist as abstracted), nor is it a kind of being of rea-
son (that originates only when it is thought in the manner of something real).
Just that reflection ‘as if’, however, has not already taken place. So what can
that first objective intention be? Should it be said that the first objective inten-
tion is a diminished being (ens diminutum), standing between real and rational
being? To cut through the paradox, two basic principles (devices) employed by
Suárez must be taken into account. First, there is the above-mentioned distinc-
tion between the essence and its condition ‘being abstracted’, and second,
there is the idiosyncratic interpretation of the notion of extrinsic denomina-
tion as the means by which the first objective intention comes into being.
What does Suárez mean by the extrinsic denomination, though? James F. Ross,
employing the analogy of attribution for an explanation of this concept, says
that in the context of universal denomination of the intellect, the extrinsic
denomination is “a kind of secondary reference where the same term is used to
refer to both the thing which has the property primarily signified by that term
and to things related in various ways to something’s having the property signi-
fied by that term.”90 The universality extrinsically denominated by the intellect
primarily occurs in the intellective act (formal concept), which is the real
denominating form. That denominating form, conceived as the primary analo-
gate of the analogical concept of ‘universality’, exhibits the transcendental
relation to the denominated thing (the secondary analogate), which is mean-
while taken precisely without its reflection on its condition. As such, that
denominating form is only a real being as is the physical universal. Both fac-
tors, inherent to the intellective act identified with the extrinsic denomina-
tion, are real. That is why if one considers precisely extrinsic denomination as
Not as late as the reflexive cognition (as it is in Suárez) is what actually forms the being of
reason, but already the direct act of extrinsic denomination. The difference is largely
given by the significant doctrinal differences in the epistemological issues, such as the
nature of the mental word and intelligibile species. For the difference in the ontological
evaluation of the extrinsic denomination between Suárez and John of St. Thomas, see
Theo Kobusch, Sein und Sprache. Historische Grundlegung einer Ontologie der Sprache
(Leiden, New York, Copenhagen & Cologne, 1987), pp. 202–203; 210–214. As for John of
St. Thomas on the extrinsic denomination and its ontological import, see Johannes
Poinsot, Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus, vol. 1: Ars Logica seu de forma et materia ratio
cinandi (Hildesheim, Zürich, New York, 2008), p. 304.
90 James F. Ross, On Formal and Universal Unity, p. 10.
188 Heider
the act resulting from the real form, directed by means of transcendental rela-
tion to the real thing, no being of reason can be made up yet.91
What is crucial for Suárez is that the condition of universality comes on the
tapis only by means of a reflection of the intellect upon a given condition,
which is ‘added’ to the nature by the previous precisive act. Only after the intel-
lect’s reflection upon the condition of ‘being abstracted’ and of ‘being indiffer-
ent to many’ does the mind come to the awareness that the abstracted nature
has the ‘form’ of ‘being denuded from the individual difference’. By that reflec-
tion, the intellect ‘quasi-effectuates’ the next intellective operation, namely,
the comparative or collative act, by which the abstracted nature is cognitively
related to its inferiors. By that collation, the relation of reason with the second
intention (the intentions of a higher order) is established. Its proximate foun-
dation arises only by means of reflection on the quasi-property (‘to be abstract’),
which the nature, as the subject of the rational relation, takes on by means of
the direct precisive act of the passive intellect. The given property, thought of
as if it were real property, constitutes the foundation of the given relation of
reason.92 As compared to the real relation, it is, of course, ontologically defi-
cient because its foundation, subject, and also terms (especially in cases when
we compare generic nature to species) are not real but only rational.93 Coming
back to the issue of the ontological status of the first objective intention,
Suárez’s prima facie surprising evaluation seems to be more intelligible now:
prior to the intellect relating the abstracted nature to its inferiors, the abstracted
nature—namely, the first objective intention—is not to be considered as a
being of reason but as something that is included under the scope of real being
(sub latitudine entis realis).94
For Suárez, the very act of comparison is conceived as the second formal
intention (secunda intentio formalis).95 The second formal intention, more-
over, is considered as the act that ‘builds’ on previous objective knowledge of
the first objective intention, which is reflexively apprehended. It is that reflex-
ively apprehended first objective intention, and not the directly denominated
nature, that Suárez identifies with the metaphysical universal. In analogy to
the first formal intention, the second formal intention (notitia comparativa) is
91 dm 54.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, pp. 1021–1022).

92 Ibid., 6.6.4, 8–9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 225, 227–228). See also ibid., 54.2.15-16 (ed. Vivès,
vol. 26, pp. 1022–1023).
93 dm 54.6.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 1039).
94 See ibid., 54.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 2012). See also ibid., 6.7.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 229);
da 5.3.27.
95 da 9.3.21.
qualified as the real singular being. The case with the second objective inten-
tion (secunda intentio objectiva), however, is different. As the apprehended
nature qua apprehended, and as rationally related to its inferiors, it can be con-
sidered as nothing other than the relation of reason. This relation of reason
under which the nature stands is what Suárez called the logical universal (uni
versale logicum). Its administration, nevertheless, is primarily the task of the
dialectician, not of the metaphysician.96
5 Conclusion
Suárez’s metaphysical theory of universals is led by the main objective of justi-

fying the process of scientific enquiry on the basis of the Aristotelian assump-
tion of universal and necessary essences. Suárez is clear about the fact that this
justification cannot be accomplished by the ontological underpinning brought
by the theories of Platonism, ultrarealism, and ultranominalism. With respect
to his goal, the given theories are either entirely useless or blatantly insuffi-
cient. Besides the overall unintelligibility of ‘the monsters of ideas’,97 he argues,
the separated ideas are entirely functionless. First, they cannot be cognized by
the human intellect since the only way to establish universal cognition is by
means of abstraction, which originates in sensory knowledge. Second, as sepa-
rated, they cannot be predicated of their own inferiors, which violates the
identity theory of predication. They are relevant only in the context of the uni-
versal in causation, he concludes, which is far from the issue of the universal in
being and predicating.98 Moreover, the position of clear-cut ultrarealism
(immanent realism), represented in late medieval philosophy by well-known
authors such as Walter Burley and John Wycliff (not explicitly mentioned by
96 dm 6.8.4 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 232–233). By that, Suárez decisively denies the opinion that
the second intentions are based on the real properties of things or natures themselves. He
is far from accepting the statement of the so-called modistae in the late thirteenth cen-
tury, considering the second intentions as founded on the real properties of extramental
things. Suárez’s doctrine is much closer to the doctrines of Scotus and Aquinas, who
ground the given intentions on the mental properties of the thing known qua known. On
the doctrinal contrast between the theories of Aquinas and Scotus, and that of Simon of
Faversham (c. 1260–1306) and Radulphus Brito (d. 1320), see Giorgio Pini, Categories and
Logic in Duns Scotus (Leiden, Boston, Köln, 2002), pp. 45–137. As for Aquinas’s theory, see
also Robert Schmidt, s.j., The Domain of Logic according to Saint Thomas Aquinas (The
Hague, 1966), pp. 122–126, and also 306–311.
97 As really different from singulars, they can be only singular, and never universal.
98 Suárez treats the universal in causation in dm 25 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 899–916).
190 Heider
Suárez in dm 6, though),99 assuming the immanent existence of the universale

in actu in extramental things, is dismissed as early as dm 5.1. The non-existence
of the actual universal in things leads to a contradictory state of affairs in
which the same universal man existing in Peter and Paul comes to be simulta-
neously the same and distinct from itself.100 Furthermore, his denial of the
strict parallelism between lex mentis and lex entis is what ranks Suárez among
the outright opponents of all forms of excessive realism. With equal decisive-
ness, Suárez turns down another excess, according to which universality is
given solely by linguistic (conventional) terms (voces) and by nominal distinc-
tions. This sort of extreme nominalism is reprehended by Suárez as ‘hardly
believable’ (vix autem credibile).101
Suárez’s metaphysics of universals is fundamentally formed by the moder-
ately realistic conceptions of John Duns Scotus and Thomas Aquinas. In con-
trast to Pedro Fonseca, they all admit that universal unity is nothing more than
the unity of reason with a foundation in a thing. Nonetheless, they differ in
what exactly that foundation is. On the issue of fundamentum, Suárez draws
his inspiration both from Scotus (the conciliatory reading) and from Aquinas
(and his disciples). He agrees with Scotus’s thesis, which lays a strong emphasis
on the actual presence of formal unity in extramental things and on its rudi-
mental non-repugnancy to being in many. However, as is well known, no
explicit mention of the term ‘formal unity’, let alone its existence in extramen-
tal things, can be found, as for example in Aquinas’s De ente et essentia. On the
other hand, especially when taking into account Suarez’s dominant unchari-
table exposition of Scotus, the Jesuit is much closer to the Thomists’ denial of
‘ex natura rei’ distinction. By that refusal, it is easy for Suárez to dismiss the
opinion according to which the (common) nature disposes of the literal (for-
mal) community sui generis. By the same token, Suárez highlights the distinc-
tion between formal unity and its community, which leads to his recurrent
statements about the essential resemblance in things.
Whereas the metaphysics of universals approximates Suárez to Aquinas
and Thomists rather than to Scotus, the issue of the psychogenesis of univer-
sals is the manifestation of the Jesuit’s doctrinal divergence from Thomism.
Suárez’s decisive emphasis on the primary cognition of singulars, apprehended
by the singular intentional species out of which the universals, even within the
99 The position seems to be also sufficiently represented in Suárez’s uncharitable reading

of Scotus.
100 dm 5.1.4-5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, pp. 146–147).
same singular species (sic!),102 are acquired by the possible intellect by means
of formal precision, is anything but Thomist. Despite its crucial resemblance to
Scotus and Aquinas, the ontological evaluation of various intentions, given by
the evaluation of the logical intentions as the relation of reason, cannot be
entirely labeled as ‘Scotistic’ or ‘Thomist’ either. The claim that the first objec-
tive intentions fall under real being—a statement based on Suárez’s under-
standing of extrinsic denomination—moves Suárez, after all, away from both
Scotists and Thomists.
Despite Suárez’s well-known conciliatory attitude to conceptualism,
declared by frequent assertions that his doctrine differs from it only ‘in modo
loquendi’,103 the Jesuit’s doctrine on formal unity is nevertheless evidence of
doctrinal difference. Expressis verbis, Suárez denies the claim that the class of
singulars is what is immediately signified by the universal concepts. If the
extensionalist reading of universals were right, science could not be about
objective concepts or things (being the same for Suárez!), but only about words
or formal concepts. Without the ontological assumption of universal specific
natures, virtually distinct from individual differences, the intellect (and also
the material sensory powers) would grasp nothing more than the accidental
similarities of singulars inclusive of their individual differences. That would,
with respect to the relevant abstractive operation, imply the adoption of what
is called the abstraction per confusionem, or formal (subjective) precision.
Needless to say, that operation is far from being capable of generating univocal
logical concepts, which, as it has been stressed, are for Suárez in their first
phase formed by the so-called objective precision.
102 da 9.3.13.
103 dm 6.2.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 206); see also ibid., 6.5.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 223).
chapter 8
Suárez’s Psychology
Simo Knuuttila
1 Introduction
In 1572 Suárez lectured in Segovia on questions related to Aristotle’s De anima,

which largely defined the scope of teaching psychology in sixteenth-century
universities. Before his death in 1618, Suárez planned to prepare these lectures
for printing, but he managed to rewrite only the first twelve chapters of the
first book and to abridge only some parts up to chapter six of the second book.
These texts were combined with the rest of Suárez’s original work by Baltasar
Alvares, who edited the entire work and published it in 1621. The early lecture
series, which was not published in Suárez’s lifetime, was edited by Salvador
Castellote in 1978–91. In this chapter, I follow the 1572 text (C) and also give
references to the 1621 version (A). Suárez also deals with questions pertaining
to philosophical psychology in some parts of the Disputationes metaphysicae
and in his theological commentary on Thomas Aquinas’s Summa theologiae.1
In fact, Aristotle and Aquinas are the most quoted authors in Suárez’s psycho-
logical works. The Jesuit usually points out when he is deviating from their
views, and he often seeks harmonising interpretations, although some of his
basic insights, such as the theory of non-causal psychological connections, go
in another direction. Duns Scotus is one of the sources for his non-Thomist
views, though Suárez is familiar with a great number of medieval and early
1 For the editing history, see the introduction in Francisco Suárez, Commentaria una cum
quaestionibus in libros Aristotelis De Anima, an introduction and critical edition by Salvador
Castellote Cubells (Madrid, 1978–91) (hereafter C); the work from 1621 is found in Francisco
Suárez, De anima in Opera omnia, vol. 3 (Paris, 1856) (hereafter A). For psychology in the six-
teenth century, see Katharina Park and Eckhard Kessler, “The Concept of Psychology,” in The
Cambridge History of Renaissance Philosophy, ed. Charles B. Schmitt and Quentin Skinner
(Cambridge, 1988), pp.355–363. See also Tuomo Aho, “The Status of Psychology as Understood
by Sixteenth-Century Scholastics,” in Psychology and Philosophy: Inquiries into the Soul from
Later Scholasticism to Contemporary Thought, ed. Sara Heinämaa and Martina Reuter, Studies
in the History of Philosophy of Mind (Dordrecht, 2009), pp.47–66; Dennis Des Chene, Life’s
Form: Late Aristotelian Conceptions of the Soul (Ithaca, ny, 2000); Sascha Salatowsky, De
Anima: Die Rezeption der aristotelischen Psychologie im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert, Bochumer
Studien zur Philosophie 43 (Amsterdam, 2006).

Suárez’s Psychology 193
modern theological, philosophical, and even medical works. One special fea-
ture of Suárez’s discussion of these is his critical attitude toward Cajetan.
2 The Levels of the Souls
Suárez teaches that the discipline of the soul in Aristotle’s De anima forms part
of natural philosophy, which concerns composite substances consisting in mat-
ter and form. The treatise on the soul is the principal part of the branch of natu-
ral philosophy that deals with living beings.2 The soul, as the form of these
composite substances, provides them with the powers for all or some of the vital
operations that Aristotle mentions in Chapters 2 and 3 of book 2 of De anima:
vegetation, sensation, appetite, local motion, and intellection. Suárez discusses
the soul as the substantial form in disputation 1 of his commentary on Aristotle’s
De anima (C), while he discusses the differences between the vegetative soul of
plants, the sensitive soul of animals, and the rational soul of humans in disputa-
tion 2, and the powers of the soul in general in disputation 3. In the version of De
anima from 1621 (A), these themes are dealt with in books 1 and 2. After this
introductory part, Suárez deals with each vital power or faculty in detail.
The elementary level of life is found in the vegetative functions of growth,
nutrition, and reproduction. While the vegetative power characterizes all com-
posite living beings, it is the only power of the soul of plants. Animals and
humans, however, have in addition various cognitive and moving powers, all
these functioning through bodily organs, and humans still have the rational
faculties of intellect and will, which have no immediate bodily organ. These
three kinds of living beings differ from each other through the three kinds of
soul, and correspondingly, the discipline concerned with bodily living beings
can be divided into the study of plants, animals, and humans.3 According to
Suárez, all life activities of composite beings derive from the soul, which is the
formal cause of their life.4 Instead of following the doctrine of the plurality of
soul-forms in animals and humans, though, he assumes, like Thomas Aquinas,
that the three kinds of souls of corporeal beings have powers that are really
distinct from substance itself, hierarchically higher souls being provided with
the powers of lower souls.5
2 C prooem. 1–6, 13.

3 C prooem. 9; ibid., 2.1.4; ibid., 2.2.7; A I.7.3.
4 C 1.1.8-9; A I.2.26-8.
5 C 1.1.8; ibid., 2.1.4; ibid., 2.6.6-9; A I.8.17-18; ibid., II.1.4-5. For the denial of the plurality of sub-
stantial forms, see dm 15.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25 [Paris, 1861]).
194 Knuuttila
Next, Suárez mentions that one might wonder whether courses on works
dealing with plants and animals should precede the study of Aristotle’s De
anima in learning natural philosophy. His answer to this concern is that the
traditional order, which follows the Aristotelian corpus, is reasonable because
the soul is the principle of living things, and one should proceed from the prin-
ciples to the composites.6 He adds that the discipline of the soul is the noblest
of all natural disciplines, due to the nobility of its subject. In the ranking of all
disciplines, it comes third after theology and metaphysics.7
According to Suárez, the soul of plants and simple animals is extensional, in
the sense that the parts of these beings may remain alive when they are divided.
The soul of more complicated animals is not extensional or divisible, and the
same holds of humans as well.8 Nevertheless, while the animal soul exists only
as a form of the body, the human soul can also be separated from the body and
is in this respect like a separate substance.9 The soul is the informing principle
of matter, as well as the source of life for the composite. As the formative prin-
ciple of matter, the soul determines the structure of the corporeal organism
and the organs that serve the living functions of the composite.10 Apart from
the rational powers of intellect and will, the powers of the soul are located in
bodily organs or vegetative functional parts, with which they form a hylomor-
phic entity. As a substantial form, the soul does not produce any acts by itself;
rather, it operates through powers that are really distinct from the soul.11 These
powers are classified on the basis of their formal objects.12
Suárez’s analysis of the operations of the powers of the soul is teleological.
He argues that the substantial forms of things represent possible ways of being,
6 C prooem. 6, 8.
7 C prooem. 28.
8 C 2.7.3-5, 10; A I.13.3-6.
9 C 2.4.7; A I.12.4. For the medieval discussions of the human soul as a form and a spiritual
substance, see Carlos Bazán, “The Human Soul: Form and Substance? Thomas Aquinas’
Critique of Eclectic Aristotelianism,” Archives d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen
âge 64 (1997): 95–126. While Suárez believes that the intellectual soul is incorruptible
because of its simplicity, he is more interested in developing other arguments for immor-
tality that would be more consonant with the philosophy of embodied souls and the doc-
trine of resurrection. See South, “Suárez, Immortality, and the Soul’s Dependence on the
Body,” in ed. Benjamin Hill and Henrick Lagerlund (Oxford, 2012), pp. 121–136.
10 C 1.3.8; A I.2.11, 25.
11 C 3.1.4-7, 14; ibid., 3.3.4; A II.1.4; ibid., II.3.2-3. As also indicated by Suárez, the Thomist
thesis of the real distinction between the soul and its faculties was commonly regarded as
one of the differences between Thomism and Scotism.
12 C 3.2.11-13; A II.2.12-13.
and that nature has given them the necessary powers through which the
proper way of being of each composite can be realized:
Art imitates nature, for the instruments in art are what the powers are in
nature. As a craftsman first considers an operation which demands an
instrument and matter which could be worked on with the help of the
instrument and then makes the instrument of such a matter and form
which are required for this end, in the same way one should think about
natural powers. The soul which was the principle of many operations
with respect to various objects required various kinds of powers for vari-
ous operations and objects, and therefore nature gave it such powers of
the soul as were adequate for such acts and objects.13
According to Suárez, living beings differ from other things by “having the prin-
ciple of their perfect-making operations in themselves.” While the operations
of spiritual beings, such as angels, are immaterial and wholly separated from
corporeality, the operations of plants and animals are material because they
take place through material things. The vegetative and sensory activities of
humans are also material, but the activities of the human intellect are immate-
rial, although they are also dependent on the body. Because all composite liv-
ing beings are corporeal, they can be characterized as animated bodies that are
living as long as they are formed by the soul and dead when the body is no
longer informed by the body.14 The vegetative functions are basic for these
beings because their life and death depend on nutrition.15
The soul-depending acts of the living composites are called vital acts, which
are sharply distinguished from the acts of non-living things. Vital acts, as dis-
tinct from the changes in non-living things, are not caused by an external effi-
cient cause. They are produced by the soul through the relevant faculties and,
as will be seen, may be necessitated by external physical changes, as the vital
acts of plants and many sensory acts are, or by other vital acts, as many of the
higher acts are. However, according to Suárez, being externally necessitated is
not the same as being caused by an efficient cause. He maintains that efficient
causation is transient, in the sense that the active cause influences the passive
power by making the latter receive something from the activator.16 Nothing
like this can take place in the vital acts, which are operations of the powers of
13 C 3.2.8; cf. A II.2.9.

14 C prooem. 6, 11; ibid., 1.1.3; A I.1.3-4; ibid., I.2.32-4.
15 C 4.3; A II.6.
16 C 3.2.4; A II.2.4-5.
196 Knuuttila
the soul. The soul and its powers are not material principles, hence their acts
cannot be affected by material causes even though they are realized through
material instruments. Since vital acts ultimately proceed from the active
intrinsic soul-principle, they are not efficiently caused by other vital acts either,
and do not produce transient effects.17 The notion of a vital act, which refers to
various functions of living beings, was not uncommon in medieval philosophy.
John Capreolus characterizes vital acts as “the acts of living beings in so far as
they are living and those are living beings which move by themselves.”18 Some
medieval writers associated this with the view that the soul is the principle of
life and more or less directly the principle of the activities of living beings.19
3 Vital Acts and Their Non-causal Connections
Vital acts, which are not externally caused, may be determined by non-vital
changes or by other vital acts. Through these non-causal connections, they are
included in the vital net that contributes to the perfection of the life of the
composites. Suárez explains the coordination of the vital acts in terms of the
harmony that is derived from the fact that the acts are ultimately dependent
on one soul: “the identity of a principle cannot be better concluded from any-
thing else than from the concord and harmony between its powers.”20 He often
repeats this view by referring to the coordination (co-ordinatio), harmony (har
monia, consonantia), concord (consensus, consensio), or sympathy (sympathia)
between the various acts of the vegetative powers, external and internal senses,
the imagination and the intellect, and the cognitive, appetitive, and motive
powers.21 Suárez invokes these concepts to explain the connections between
vital acts, which are seemingly caused by efficient causality. In reality, Suárez
affirms, vital powers form a centralized network in which the actualization of
17 C 5.3.3; 5.4.4; A 3.3.3; 4.5.

18 Super primo Sententiarum, d. 3, q. 3 (Venice, 1514), 70v.
19 The acts associated with life were called vital acts by Peter John Olivi and many others
after him. See Peter John Olivi, Quaestiones in secundum librum Sententiarum, vols. I–III,
ed. Bernard Jansen (Quaracchi, 1922–1926), q. 71 (II, 644) q. 72 (III, 24–25). In dealing with
cognitive and motive acts, Olivi mentions the view that the vital acts cannot have an
external efficient cause (q. 72, III, 33). See also Sven Knebel, “Scotists versus Thomists:
What Seventeenth-Century Scholastic Psychology Was About,” The Modern Schoolman 74
(1997): 219–226.
20 C 2.7.11; cf. A 1.13.11.
21 C 2.5.5; ibid., 2.7.11; ibid., 6.2.10; ibid., 9.2.12; A I.13.11; ibid., III.9.7; ibid., IV.2.12; dm 18.5.3;
ibid., 18.8.40; ibid., 23.1.11; ibid., 23.5.14; ibid., 23.7.2.
one part is followed by the actualization of another part, without external effi-
cient causation.22
Suárez’s terminology is partly derived from Neoplatonic sources, which was
not unusual in Renaissance natural philosophy. However, his use of these con-
cepts in eliminating efficient causality is regarded as an original innovation.23
For Suárez, the soul is the principle of the powers and the sympathetic connec-
tion between their acts.24 Furthermore,
The interior and exterior senses are rooted in the same soul, and thus it is
the same soul which sees by sight and imagines by imagination. There is
consequently such a natural concord among these powers that when the
soul perceives something by sight, a similitude of this is immediately
repeated in imagination…there are many other similar concords between
vital powers which are rooted in the same soul, for when one operates,
the other immediately operates.25
In dealing with cognitive vital acts, Suárez often refers to the attention of the
soul.26 He sometimes describes attention as a conscious attitude of the sub-
ject, but it also has a more theoretical pre-conscious role as a unifying factor.27
While his approach was influenced by Augustinian and related traditional
ideas, Suárez stressed, following the thesis of the distinction between the soul
and its powers, that vital attention is not the same as a cognitive act, but is one
of its constituents.28 Thus, the attentive activity of the principle itself is a
constitutive element of the act, and contributes to the coordination of the con-
tents of the faculties, which are connected by natural sympathy.29
22 Josef Ludwig, Das akausale Zusammenwirken (Sympathia) der Seelenvermögen in der Erken
ntnislehre des Suarez (Munich, 1929); see also James B. South, “Singular and Universal in
Suárez’s Account of Cognition,” Review of Metaphysics 55 (2002): 785–823, esp. pp. 800–804.
23 Ludwig, Das akausale Zusammenwirken, p. 86.
24 Cf. Salvador Castellote Cubells, Die Anthropologie des Suarez. Beiträge zur spanischen
Anthropologie des XVI. und XVII. Jahrhunderts (Freiburg-Munich, 1962), pp.104–107.
25 C 6.2.13; A III.9.10.
26 “All cognition takes place through vital attention and the change of a power” (C 6.4.7; A,
III.11.5).
27 See Ludwig, Das akausale Zusammenwirken, p. 32; Castellote Cubells, Die Anthropologie
des Suarez, pp. 123–125.
28 C 5.3.4; A III.3.4.
29 The details of the role of the attentive influence remain sketchy in Suárez; see the discus-
sions in Ludwig, Das akausale Zusammenwirken, pp. 40–61, and James B. South, “Francisco
Suárez on Imagination,” Vivarium 39 (2001): 143–156.
198 Knuuttila
Though Suárez wanted to eliminate external efficient causation from psy-

chology, he sometimes employs the notion of a partial cause to explain the
connections between vital acts.30 A partial cause immediately precedes
another in a regular succession of events. However, there is a metaphysical
unifying principle in the substantial attention of the soul. Suárez explains the
connection between the acts of fantasy and appetite as follows:
We can more easily avoid these problems by denying the active concur-
rence of cognition with the act of appetite, maintaining that through rep-
resenting an object it merely provides a condition, after which the
appetite produces its act through the natural sympathy between these
powers, to which these powers’ being rooted in the same soul best con-
tributes. The soul or the subject through the soul is that which principally
operates and uses these powers and thus, when it perceives an object
agreeable to it by one power, it strives for it by the other, not through
effecting on one by another but because when it perceives the object
through one power, it is excited to operate through the other. This excite-
ment does not result from a real and effective mutation, but from a meta-
phorical or final one, thus not requiring a local propinquity but merely
that of the soul (animalis), so to say.31
4 Vegetative Powers
After a general discussion of the soul and its powers, Suárez deals with the
vegetative powers. Vegetation includes nutrition, growth, and reproduction,
which are common to plants, animals, and humans. The soul of plants has only
the power for those operations that manifest themselves in vegetative vital
acts. Suárez analyses the object of vegetative powers, by which he means the
results of the activities with respect to matter, the physiological side of these
operations, and the nature of the vital power itself:
The object of the active potencies is different from the matter on which
they operate. The object…is the outcome, as the object of building is a
house, and the matter is the stuff which is required for their action.32
30 For the Scotist conception of partial cause in Suárez, see C 5.4.7, 14; A III.4.6, 12.
31 dm 18.8.40.
32 C 4.1.7; cf. A II.4.7.
Suárez’s accounts of the vegetative powers of animals are largely based on tra-
ditional views of medicine and philosophy. He refers to the doctrines of the
humours, the vital spirits, and the nerves without entering into details, but dis-
cusses the main organs and their development and tasks somewhat more
thoroughly.
The central part of nutrition is the metabolic process, which, in Suárez’s
view, is a vital act that takes place through the bodily capacities, under the
guidance of the soul. The life of material beings is dependent on regular nour-
ishment: food is necessary for restoring the elements consumed by natural
heat, which is necessary for bodily vital acts, and water is continuously needed
to prevent drying up.33 Human nutrition is a complicated process, and its cen-
tral organs are the liver, which changes the foodstuff into blood, and the heart,
which distributes the nourishing blood to all parts of the organism.34 Growth
is another vegetative process that is based on nutrition.35 While nutrition and
growth serve nature’s aim of preserving the subject, the production of male
and female semen in animals serves the goal of preserving the species.36 Suárez
comments on the views of reproduction in Aristotle, Galen, and Aquinas,
whose works he often refers to in discussing the vegetative operations. He
regards nutrition as the basic vegetative function, arguing that the growth and
production of semen are parts of the nutritive system, which is guided by the
one vegetative power of the soul.37
5 Sensory Powers
Thomas Aquinas, Albert the Great, and many other thirteenth-century

Aristotelian authors argued that sight is a passive potency, which acts to see
external objects. These objects, however, are also the ultimate cause of the act.
Since an Aristotelian passive power is actualized by an active power only when
these powers are in contact, Aristotle and his followers argued that the object
of vision functions as a cause of the act of seeing by changing the medium so
that the visible form without matter becomes immediately present to the
power of seeing. This gave rise to the medieval theory of imperceptible species
in the medium and the sensory faculty. The same theory was applied to other
33 C 4.3.6-8; A II.6.6.
34 C 4.8.9-14; A II.11.7-10.
35 C 4.6.15; A II.9.17.
36 C 4.4.5; A II.7.5. For male and female semen see C 4.9.1; A II.12.2.
37 C 4.6.16; ibid., 4.7.6-10; A II.9.18-19; ibid., II.10.6-8.
200 Knuuttila
senses as well. While those who followed Averroes spoke about the ‘spiritual’
or ‘intentional’ presence of the form in the medium and sense organs, others
preferred the conception of the multiplication of species, the visible form pro-
ducing first a species, then another, and so on. There were also varying views
on whether the species themselves were corporeal things, physical qualities of
the medium, or spiritual entities separated from physical things.38
In late medieval and Renaissance times, the theory of the passive sensory
powers and the species as activators was increasing superseded by various con-
ceptions of the active sense that were influenced by Averroistic and Augustinian
ideas. Averroes suggested that there should be an active sensory power that
transforms the species in the medium into a non-corporeal activator of the
sensory powers.39 The Augustinian view, which held that cognition involves
active attention, was further developed by various figures such as Robert
Kilwardby, who was a contemporary of Aquinas.40 The species theory, how-
ever, which was meant to explain the actualization of potencies, was not help-
ful with respect to the intentionality of sensory experience, as was stressed by
Peter John Olivi and John Duns Scotus. Olivi thus applied Augustinian termi-
nology in his intentionalist theory, which claimed that the soul is capable of
attending directly to external objects without mediating species.41 Influenced
by Henry of Ghent, Scotus, for his part, combined the species theory with the
38 Simo Knuuttila, “Aristotle’s Theory of Perception and Medieval Aristotelianism,” in

Theories of Perception in Medieval and Early Modern Philosophy, ed. Simo Knuuttila and
Pekka Kärkkäinen, Studies in the History of Philosophy of Mind (Dordrecht, 2008), pp. 1–22.
39 Averroes, Commentarium magnum in Aristotelis De anima libros, ed. F.S. Crawford, Corpus
Commentariorum Averrois in Aristotelem Versionum Latinorum VI.1 (Cambridge, ma,
1953), II.60 (221).
40 See De spiritu fantastico, ed. P.O. Lewry in Robert Kilwardby, On Time and Imagination,
Auctores Britannici Medii Aevi IX (Oxford, 1987), nn. 103, 112.
41 See Peter John Olivi, Quaestiones in secundum librum Sententiarum, ed. Bernard Jansen,
vol. 3 (Quaracchi, 1926), q. 72 (9): “However much the cognitive power is informed by a
habit and a species, which differ from the cognitive act, it cannot proceed to a cognitive
act if it does not first tend toward the object, so that the gaze of its intention is actually
turned and directed to the object.” Scotus distinguishes between receiving the species
and tending to the object: “For the cognitive power must not only receive the species of
the object, but also tend through its act toward the object. This second is more essential
to the power since the first is required because of the imperfection of the power. And the
object is the object because the power tends to it rather than because it impresses a
species.” Robert Andrews et al., eds., Quaestiones super libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis
VI–IX, Opera philosophica 4 (St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1997), VII.14, 29 (290), translated by
Robert Pasnau, “Cognition,” in The Cambridge Companion to Duns Scotus, ed. Thomas
Williams (Cambridge, 2003), p. 288.
active sense. The reception of the form in the organ, he argued, is merely pas-
sive, but this is a necessary rather than sufficient condition for activating the
sensory power, which takes place by the activity of the soul.42 This kind of idea,
with a more complicated account of active and passive sense, was associated
with Averroes’s remark about the agent sense proposed by John of Jandun,
whose theory continued to be discussed in the Renaissance.43 John Buridan,
on the other hand, developed the active sense in a hylomorphic direction.44
42 See John Duns Scotus, Quaestiones super secundum et tertium De anima, ed. Carlos Bazán
et al., Opera Philosophica 5 (Washington-St. Bonaventure, 2006), 12 (p. 106): “There are two
ways how the potencies mentioned can be thought to be passive. First, the potency imme-
diately receives the second evocated act and is determined by the species of its object
presented to it in the organ of a sensory power for sensing or in a phantasm for under-
standing, the species being in no way in the potency. The potency elicits this second act
by its active power, activating the potency and determining it to know the object from
which the species comes, as it were by means of the species presented to it, although the
species does not inform the potency in any way.” For similar ideas in Henry of Ghent, see
M. Rombeiro, “Intelligible Species in the Mature Thought of Henry of Ghent,” Journal of
the History of Philosophy 49 (2011): 181–220.
43 “Similarly, we do not say that the sensory potency which receives a sensation is in itself
primarily and directly affected by the sensible object itself, although its becoming actual
presupposes the actualisation of a certain potency which is in itself passive or capable of
being affected by the sensible object, and when this potency is actualised by the activity
of the sensible object, in the same instant of time the agent sense causes sensation in the
passive sense which is disposed in a certain way by the species. And in this way, we inter-
pret all authorities who state that the sensible object moves the sense from potency to act:
not that the sensible object or its species caused by the object efficiently causes sensation
or directly and per se acts on the sensory potency, but because it produces its species in
the sense-organ which is the disposition of the passive sense for receiving sensation.”
John of Jandun, “Sophisma de sensu agente,” in Pour l’histoire du sens agent. Le controverse
entre Barthélemy de Bruges et Jean Jandun. Ses antécédents et son evolution, ed. A. Pattin
(Leuven, 1988), pp.140–141; there are editions of many texts related to Jandun’s treatise in
Pattin’s work. For the active sense in Kilwardby and Olivi, see Juhana Toivanen and José F.
Silva, “The Active Nature of the Soul in Sense Perception: Robert Kilwardby and Peter
Olivi,” Vivarium 48 (2011): 245–278; for later eclectic active sense theories, see also Leen
Spruit, “Renaissance Views of Active Perception,” in Theories of Perception in Medieval and
Early Modern Philosophy, ed. Simo Knuuttila and Pekka Kärkkäinen, Studies in the History
of Philosophy of Mind (Dordrecht, 2008), pp.203–224; Cees Leijenhorst, “Cajetan and
Suárez on Agent Sense,” in Forming the Mind: Essays on the Internal Senses and the Mind/
Body Problem from Avicenna to the Medical Enlightenment, ed. Henrik Lagerlund
(Dordrecht, 2007), pp. 237–262.
44 “While the soul is the principal formative cause of perception below God, it is not suffi-
ciently actual for this without the sensory species—however, the composition of the soul
202 Knuuttila
The activity of the soul in perception was also often characterized by using
traditional Augustinian terms of intention or attention.45 Many defenders of
the activity of the sense held, like John of Jandun, that if a sense-power is acti-
vated by the causal influence of the species, an ontologically lower thing would
analogously have a causal effect on an ontologically higher entity.46 While the
incorporeal intentional species of Albert the Great and Aquinas avoided this
criticism, they were commonly regarded as corporeal. These discussions of the
nature of the species in the medium and the passivity and activity of senses
continued into sixteenth-century Aristotelian accounts of perception.47
Alongside these, there were also Platonist theories, as well the panpsychist
theory of Telesio and Campanella, in which perceptions were acts of the active
material spirit.48
and the sensory species is already sufficiently actual for this, as is stated in the third book
about the intellect and its act. For on having the first act with proper dispositions it can
bring itself to the second act, provided that there is no hindrance.” John Buridan,
“Quaestiones in libros Aristotelis De anima,” in John Buridan on the Soul and Sensation.
An Edition of Book II of His Commentary on Aristotle’s Book De anima (Third Redaction),
with and Introduction and a Translation of Question 18 on Sensible Species, ed. P.G. Sobol,
Ph. D. dissertation (Cornell University 1989), II.10, pp. 158–159.
45 See, for example, Nicole of Oresme, Quaestiones in Aristotle’s De anima, ed. Benoît
Patar, Philosophes médiévaux 32, Louvain-la-Neuve: Éditions de l’Institut Supérieur de
Philosophie (Louvain and Paris, 1995), II.8-9.
46 John of Jandun, Sophisma de sensu agente, ed. Pattin, pp.130–131: “That which produces is
always nobler that that which receives…The power of the soul necessarily and per se pre-
supposes something nobler than what the sensible species presupposes in its subject, for
while the power of the soul presupposes the soul as its subject, as everybody agrees, the
sensible species necessarily and in itself presupposes neither the soul nor anything nobler
than the soul nor as noble as it.”
47 Gregor Reisch describes the change in the sensory medium in his influential Margarita
philosophiae (Strasburg, 1504) as follows: “The object either continuously multiplies a
species after a species, all the way to the sense, or it instantaneously causes the
whole species in the whole intervening medium between itself and the sense, if it is suf-
ficiently powerful. Thus the medium is necessary for sensation, since the species are mul-
tiplied there” (X.2.2). Agostino Nifo criticized John of Jandun’s view of active sense in his
De sensu agente (Venice, 1517): “There is no agent sense because the sensory forms outside
the soul are the immediate and per se efficient causes of sensation; they function as
instruments of the first mover, whatever it is, and the receptive cause is the passive sense”
(128v). Nifo later became an adherent of the active sense views; see Spruit, “Renaissance
Views of Active Perception,” pp. 215–216. For the passive sense view, see also Juan Luis
Vives’s influential De anima et vita (Basel, 1538), 31.
48 See Michaela Boenke, Körper, Spiritus, Geist. Psychologie vor Descartes (Munich, 2005).
Suárez, moreover, was familiar with the scholastic discussions of percep-

tion, and he dealt with many of the views just mentioned in disputation 5 (cog-
nition in general), disputation 6 (sense perception in general), and disputation
7 (particular senses) of his De anima commentary (C); these are in book III of
De anima (A). His own view is based on the idea that the non-vital changes in
the medium and the organ cannot be the cause of perception, which is a vital
act, although they can be regarded as necessary conditions that also determine
the act.49 Distancing himself from the passive theory of perception, Suárez
also criticizes the active sense theory of John of Jandun because it entails that
the sensory acts are activated in a passive part by the active part of the sense.
According to Suárez, there cannot be such a division in vital powers since it is
“the first principle in this matter that what is effectively produced by an agent
is intrinsically included in the vital act.” There are no vital powers that are
merely receptive or merely productive.50 Thus, his own view is close to the
Scotist idea that the power and the species form an active principle that elicits
the act. Like Buridan and some other medieval thinkers, Suárez maintains that
the presence of the sensible species transforms a sensory faculty into a higher
level of actuality, after which the faculty may proceed to a second act, the
actual sensation.51 According to Suárez, the actualization does not simply fol-
low when it is made possible by the species: “The activity does not proceed
from the species alone but rather from the soul and the powers.”52
Suárez argues that the cognitive sensory powers belong to the quantitative
part of the living hylomorphic composite.53 His point is that the material fac-
ulty of perception consists of both the sense organ and the power of the soul.
This composite structure is meant to explain that a material species does not
cause vision, which is a vital act and therefore of a higher ontological nature
than non-vital material changes. In addition to the hierarchical difference
between living and non-living beings, the vital powers are also hierarchically
ordered: at the bottom, there are the very corporeal acts of the vegetative
powers, next the sensory powers associated with corporeal organs and corpo-
real species, then the internal sense power with less corporeal species, and
49 C 5.4.4.3-7; A III.4.3-6.
50 C 5.4.2; A III.4.2.
51 C 5.4.14; cf. A III.4.12.
52 C 5.4.5; cf. A III.4.5. For related ideas in Suárez’s contemporary Jesuits (Toletus and Rubio),
see Alison Simmons, “The Sensory Act: Descartes and the Jesuits on the Efficient Cause of
Sensation,” in Meeting of the Minds: The Relations between Medieval and Classical Modern
European Philosophy, ed. Stephen F. Brown (Turnholt, 1995), pp. 63–76.
53 C 3.3.4; A II.3.3.
204 Knuuttila
ultimately the wholly incorporeal intellectual faculty.54 The composite struc-

ture of the faculty of perception is also meant to be in agreement with the
central thesis that the vital acts have no external cause. In Suárez’s analysis, the
species contributes to perception by causing a physical change in the sense
organ, which is a necessary condition of perception. However, the sense organ
is the lower part of the sensory faculty, which can be causally influenced, while
the higher part derives from the soul as the vital principle. This composite
power of perception is brought into a first actuality when the bodily organ is
changed through a material emanation from the object. After this first actual-
ity, no external influence is needed for the second actuality, which is the vital
act itself. Referring to this composite power, Suárez says that the soul perceives
through an instrument that includes a less noble part, a sensible species
received by the sense organ, and a nobler part, which is the cognitive faculty
of the soul:
A cognitive power which is informed by a species is an integral instru-

ment by which the soul operates. The species is not an instrument which
would be used by the power so that this species alone would immediately
produce the cognitive act…But the cognitive power and the species form
an integral instrument which immediately produces the act… Since there
are two parts in this instrument, one which is most perfect but not repre-
sentative of an object and another which is less noble but representative
of an object, the act takes the perfection of its being from the former part
and its capacity of representing from the latter one, in which it does not
exceed the perfection of the species.55
The species is representative because it emanates from the sensible object, and
its presence in the composite sensory instrument unites the act with the exter-
nal object. The acts are about present external objects, which are perceived as
they are apt to cause species.56 This was the view of many scholastic authors,
who took it for granted that the species had a role in connecting the act
with the external object. However, there was no real explanation of why the
54 C 2.6.12; A I.7.5. See also note 86.

55 C 5.4.16; cf. A III.4.14. See also Tuomo Aho, “Suárez on Cognitive Intentions,” in Mind,
Cognition and Representation: The Tradition of Commentators on Aristotle’s De anima, ed.
Paul Bakker and Johannes Thijssen (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 201–202.
56 C 5.1.3; ibid., 6.5.4-5; A III.1.4-7; ibid., III.12.3-4. For perceptual realism, see C 3.3.15
(A II.3.14); James B. South, “Suárez and the Problem of External Sensation,” Medieval
Philosophy and Theology 10 (2001): 217–240, esp. pp. 237–238.
presence of the imperceptible species in the organ can do this. Suárez

also simply repeats the doctrine, and takes it for granted that the perceptible
features of things are continuously multiplied through imperceptible inten-
tional species, which cause the intentional change in the organ. The emanat-
ing species are called intentional because they serve the object-directed
intentional acts of grasping the sensible aspects of objects.57 Since the organs
are material, the imperceptible sensory species are also corporeal and
divisible.58
All cognitive powers have an adequate formal object that involves the
kinds of things to which the power is immediately and essentially directed.
The adequate object of vision consists of light, and everything that is illumi-
nated by light.59 Light itself is a quality that is most prominently present in
the sun, from which it is radiated on the surface of lucid things, but there are
other sources of light as well, such as fire and the stars. Light makes poten-
tially transparent things actually transparent, for example air, and it is seen in
their transparency as well as in the sources of the light. Light itself is without
a colour, but by illuminating coloured things it makes them visible as
coloured.60 Thus, a colour “has from itself a certain tendency to visibility and
it is by itself able to be seen, but it requires a complement to this power and
this is light.”61
Because light and the illuminated colours are passible qualities, they pro-
duce a spherical radiation of intentional species in the medium between the
object of sight and the subject of the act of seeing. The intentional species in
the medium mediates the influence of the visible form on the organ of sight,
which, together with the power of seeing, forms the instrument through which
the subject sees things:
The eye receives the species from an object; through this reception the
object is united with power of seeing and the power is constituted in the
first act for seeing. Therefore this is sufficient for it to form in itself the act
of vision, and everything else is fictitious or superfluous…This is con-
firmed by the fact that for the sensation through all other senses it is only
required that there is a conjunction between the subject and the object
57 C 5.1.3-6; 6.2.6-7; A III.1.4-7; III.9.4-5.

58 Suárez stresses that the sensible species are material and divisible (C 5.2.17; A III.2.16). See
also South, “Suárez and the Problem of External Sensation,” pp. 226–230.
59 C 7.3.6; A III.16.6.
60 C 7.1.12; A III.14.7.
61 C 7.3.4; cf. A III.16.4.
206 Knuuttila
which is formed in the power itself through the mediating species and
the sensation is formed in the same power.62
Suárez refers to Ockham, Durand of St. Pourçain, and Gabriel Biel as scholastic
authors who held that it is not required for an actual perception that the object
as an activator and the sensory power be in contact, and that intentional spe-
cies are not needed for this purpose.63 He regards this as mistake, though, and
adds that almost all philosophers and theologians think, like Aristotle, that a
contiguous connection between the activator and the power is necessary, and
that it is constituted by the species as likenesses.
The organ of sight is the pupil, by which Suárez means the crystalline
humour in the centre of the eye that is able to receive the intentional species.
Suárez sometimes says that when a sensory potency is informed by an inten-
tional species, the potency elicits the cognitive act. However, a further physical
condition should be fulfilled, namely, the organ must also be informed by the
fine spirit, which comes from the brain through nerves to the sense organs.64
The role of this animal spirit remains unclear. In some places, Suárez seems to
regard it as a physiological counterpart to the attention of the soul. The soul as
the ultimate subject of perception controls the cognitive acts through the ner-
vous systems, sending the animal spirit to that organ with the information that
is relevant to the organism. In commenting on the influence of the brain on
perception, Suárez writes:
I think that this power is communicated from the brain through the ani-
mal spirits which serve to support the sense-organs and preserve them in
the disposition which is apt for perception. These spirits are dependent on
the actual flux from the brain; therefore the sensation is immediately lost
when connection to the brain is prevented. This power is probably also
communicated by the mode of attention since the sense cannot perceive
if the soul is not attentive. The attention is dependent on imagination.65
The same mechanism is found in other senses, as well. Sound is a sensible

quality that is brought about by a percussion or division, intentionally radiat-
ing from the source as long as it is actual. While the objects of sight do not
change the medium or the organ except in an intentional way, the objects of
62 C 7.4.2; A III.17.2.
63 C 5.1.2; A III.1.2.
64 C 7.5.7; ibid., 7.9.2; A III.18.8; ibid., III.22.2.
65 C 6.6.10; cf. A III.13.7.
other senses change it intentionally and in a non-intentional way.66 A non-

intentional physical change that is associated with sound is a violent move-
ment of the air, though it cannot proceed as far as the intentional forms
through which the original sound is heard. Suárez argues that if the non-
intentional motion constituted the change in the faculty, one would hear this
and not the original sound in the direction where it comes from.67 The organ
of hearing is the air, which is closed in the concavity of the ear. This is con-
nected with the brain in the same way as the eyes, hence the power of hearing
actualizes itself when the organ receives an intentional species and the animal
spirit flows into it from the brain.68
Suárez criticises those who locate the organ of smell in the brain, arguing
that “the brain is the fountain of all senses and not an organ.” In his view, the
organ of smell is in the head, behind the nose.69 The organ of taste, moreover,
is the tongue, and the organ of touch is the flesh. These senses are described in
traditional ways, except that in Suárez’s view it is not necessary that the inten-
tional radiation from the object changes the organs of taste and touch through
the medium. Their object is usually contiguous to the organ.70
6 Internal Senses
After the chapters on perception, Suárez turns to the traditional doctrine of

internal senses (C 8; A III.30-31). The background for this topic has been shaped
by Avicenna, who developed Aristotle’s remarks on common sense, imagina-
tion, and memory into an influential doctrine of five internal senses, which
continued to be discussed in philosophical psychology through the seven-
teenth century. In Avicenna’s taxonomy, the common sense receives the
impressions of external senses, and differentiates and synthesises simultane-
ous perceptions by several senses. Distinguishing between receiving and
retaining impressions, Avicenna introduces the retentive imagination as the
power that retains the contents of the common sense. A third power, which is
called estimative, grasps the ‘intentions’ of things, such as their hostility or dan-
gerousness, as well as other harmful and useful aspects that are not perceived
by the external senses. A fourth power is the compositive imagination, which
66 C 7.15.1; A III.28.1.
67 C 7.6.1, 6; ibid., 7.8.7; A III.19.1, 8; ibid., III.21.5.
68 C 7.9.1-2; A III.22.1-2.
69 C 7.12.3; A III.25.2.
70 C 7.14; A III.27.
208 Knuuttila
can combine and divide between sensory forms and intentions. The fifth
power involves memory, which receives impressions from the estimative
power, and recollection, which retains them ready for recall. Following ancient
medical discussions, Avicenna locates the internal faculties in the ventricles of
the brain, the common sense and retentive imagination in the front ventricle,
the estimation and the compositive imagination in the middle ventricle, and
memory and recollection in the rear ventricle.71
Most medieval Latin thinkers had the common sense to differentiate and syn-
thesise between simultaneous sensations, such as the taste and colour in a par-
ticular object, and to perceive that one perceives. Avicenna, however, thought
that reflective acts belong only to the immaterial intellectual faculty.72 Latin
authors also usually followed Averroes in giving up Avicenna’s distinction
between the retentive imagination and the compositive imagination as two sep-
arate faculties, ascribing their activities to one faculty, which was called imagina-
tion or fantasy.73 Avicenna’s estimative faculty, furthermore, was often discussed
as an instinctual power of choice in animals; following Averroes, Aquinas
regarded the corresponding non-instinctual capacity of the human sensory soul
as part of the sub-intellectual cogitative power that recognizes individual things
as representatives of common natures or as good or evil. While many writers
found this a respectable theory until the seventeenth century, there had also
been critical voices since Duns Scotus’s thought experiment: a lamb would flee a
sheep miraculously changed to be like a wolf in all sensible accidents, which it
would not do if it had an estimation of the agreeability of the object.74 Some
medieval authors such as Peter John Olivi also wanted to reduce the number of
inner sense faculties, arguing that their names refer to various functions of one
71 Avicenna, Liber de Anima seu Sextus de naturalibus, ed. Simone van Riet, Avicenna Latinus
(Louvain-Leiden, 1968), 1.5, 87.19-88.28; 89.44-90.60. See also Deborah Black, “Imagination
and Estimation: Arabic Paradigms and Western Transformations,” Topoi 19 (2000): 59–75.
72 See, for example, Aquinas, st, ed. Pietro Caramello (Turin-Rome, 1950), I, q. 78, a. 4, ad 2;
René-Antoine Gauthier, ed., Anonymi Magistri Artium (c. 1245–1250) Lectura in Librum De
anima, Spicilegium Bonaventurianum, 24 (Grottaferrata, 1985), II.24 (410, 416);
Anonymous, “Quaestiones in de Anima,” ed. Carlos Bazán, in Trois commentaires ano
nymes sur le Traité de l’âme d’Aristote, ed. Maurice Giele, Ferdinand Van Steenberghen,
and Carlos Bazán, Philosophes médiévaux 11 (Louvain-Paris, 1971), II. 39, 463; John Duns
Scotus, Quaestiones super Secundum et Tertium de Anima, 9 (71–72); John Buridan,
“Quaestiones in Aristotelis De anima,” II.22, in Peter Sobol, John Buridan on the Soul and
Sensation: An Edition of Book II of His Commentary on Aristotle’s Book of the Soul, Ph.D.
dissertation (Indiana University), pp. 367–371.
73 Aquinas, st I, q. 78, a. 4.
74 John Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 62 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, pp. 43–44).
William Ockham and Gabriel Biel also considered separate estimative cognitions as
faculty. According to John Buridan, there are only two faculties, one with the
functions of common sense, fantasy, and estimation, and a second for sensory
memory, which stores not only intentions but also the sensible species of exter-
nally perceptible qualities.75
These medieval discussions form the background for Suárez’s description of
internal senses. As for the common sense, he remarks that while it is required
for discerning between simultaneous impressions, it is less clear whether it is
needed for the awareness of perception.76 Suárez follows the common scholas-
tic opinion that one should not regard common sensibles as the proper objects
of the common sense.77 Fantasy, furthermore, is defined as “the power to
receive and retain the species of external senses and to operate with them
when the objects are absent.”78 According to Thomas Aquinas, ‘phantasia’ and
‘imaginatio’ mean the same thing, though for Suárez, the latter term refers to
the power of combining sensible forms and constructing impossible con-
tents.79 With respect to the Thomist distinction between the estimative and
cogitative power, Suárez remarks that the human cogitative internal sense
does not include ratiocination or composition, although it does not operate
simply by natural instinct but also by cognitive experience.80 Memory, for its
part, is the power to remember past things as experienced earlier; in animals,
superfluous; see Ockham, “Scriptum in librum primum Sententiarum,” d. 3, q. 2, in Opera

theologica, vol. 3, ed. Stephen F. Brown and Gedeon Gál (St. Bonaventure, 1990), pp. 410–
411; Biel, Collectorium in quattuor libros Sententiarum, ed. Wilfrid Werbeck and Udo
Hofmann, I, d. 3, q. 6, a. 1.3.6 (Tübingen, 1973), pp. 231–232. According to Buridan, the com-
mon sense as an estimative power grasps non-sensible Avicennian intentions; see John
Buridan, Quaestiones in Aristotelis De anima, II.23, p. 388. See also Peter of Ailly, “Tractatus
de anima,” in Die philosophische Psychologie des Peter von Ailly, ed. Olaf Pluta, Bochumer
Studien zur Philosophie, 6 (Amsterdam, 1987), 4.4, pp. 27–28.
75 Peter John Olivi, Quaestiones in secundum librum Sententiarum, q. 63–66, pp. 596–606; for
the one internal sense view, see also Anonymous, Lectura in Librum De anima, ed. René-
Antoine Gauthier, Spicilegium Bonaventurianum, 24 (Grottaferrata, 1985), II.26.2, p. 441.
For Buridan’s view, see Quaestiones in tres libros De anima Aristotelis, 2.23, pp. 380–382.
76 C 8.1.2; A III.30.1. Suárez refers to his earlier discussion of whether the senses are aware of
their acts. His point is that through the attention, which is part of perception, some sort
of awareness of perceiving is included in perceptions themselves, but an internal sense is
also aware of them, See C 6.4.7-8; A III.11.5.
77 C 8.1.2; A III.30.2. For this view in Averroes, see De anima II.63-5, 225–229. For Aquinas’s
criticism, see Sentencia libri De anima, ed. René-Antoine Gauthier, in Sancti Thomae de
Aquino doctoris angelici Opera omnia iussu Leonis XIII P.M. edita, 45.1 (Paris, 1984) II.13,
p. 119.
78 C 8.1.7; A III.30.7.
79 C 8.1.8; A III.30.7.
80 C 8.1.10; A III.30.7.
210 Knuuttila
it is particularly the power to preserve the representations of the estimative

power, even when the objects are not present. Reminiscence, on the other
hand, is primarily an intellectual power because it involves reasoning, but
there is also a sensory reminiscence, which is based on the succession of appre-
hensions.81 Suárez presents a collection of various views about the number of
internal senses. He does not, however, mention the medieval theories of one
internal sense power, apparently thinking that the two-powers view was the
most economic among his predecessors. His own opinion on the matter is that
there is one faculty with many functions.82
Suárez deviates from the common traditional view of the seat of different
internal senses in different ventricles of the brain, assuming instead that the
organ of the internal sense power might be the rear part of the brain.83 In
medieval theories, it was usually assumed that the intentional species, which
first contributes to the actualization of external senses, is then transmitted to
the internal sense, where it forms a phantasm.84 Since Suárez found several
problems with this inner traffic, he tried to explain the acts of the internal
senses without it. Suárez therefore proposed that the cognitive contents of the
simple acts of the internal sense about sensory objects are similar to those of
perception, although they do not require the presence of an external object for
their actuality. The presence of the representation of an object in the internal
sense brings about its first actuality, the second actuality being the correspond-
ing awareness. If the first actuality and the intentional internal species are not
caused by the intentional external species, could they be caused by the sensory
act itself, on which they are dependent? Suárez remarks that the internal sense
and its species are more perfect than the external senses and species because
internal acts and species do not require the simultaneous causal influence
from corporeal objects.85 How, then, could the act of a higher sense be caused
by the activity of a lower sense? Suárez suggests that perhaps this is not prob-
lematic, since the second actuality of the external sense is nobler than the first
actuality of the internal sense. He continues:
Therefore, in comparing the first act of one power to the first act of
another, that one is more perfect which is an act of a more perfect power,
and it is the same in comparing the second acts to each other. Nevertheless,
81 C 8.1.11-12; A III.30.7.
82 C 8.1.13-21; A III.30.8-16. For Suárez’s theory of the internal sense powers, see also South,
“Imagination,” pp. 122–137.
83 C 8.2.8; A III.2.6-7.
84 See Aquinas, st I, q. 78, a. 4.
85 C 6.2.9-11; A III.9.8.
in comparing a second act of a less perfect power to the first act of a more
perfect power, the former will be more perfect because in its own nature
it is constituted in a higher grade of actuality… An external perception
would produce in the internal sense a species as if imprinting there a
perfect similitude of itself which the internal sense can very well con-
serve due to its natural disposition.86
The proposal seems to be that the first actuality of the internal sense is exter-
nally caused. One might assume that, analogously to sense perception, it is
only the second activity that is not externally caused, being actualized by the
power itself when the necessary condition is met. However, having said this,
Suárez goes on to note:
When the soul perceives something by sight, a similitude of this is imme-

diately repeated in imagination, not through a potency distinct from
imagination but by the power of imagination, so that when there is an
external sensation, a species naturally results in the internal sense, not
because of the activity of perception but because of the activity of the
soul itself through imagination.87
The production of the representation of the sensed species in the internal

sense is dependent on a sensory act, to be sure, but this connection is not a
case of efficient causality. Explaining how the hierarchical difference could be
avoided, Suárez demonstrates that the main reason for not accepting a causal
link between vital acts is that they are not transient and not passible. Rather,
the vital powers of external and internal senses are rooted in the same soul,
and consequently can be sympathetically activated so that one operates imme-
diately when another operates.88
7 Intellect
According to the Thomist view, which forms the background of Suárez’s dis-
cussion of higher cognitive acts (C 9, A IV), the intellect is a spiritual power
86 C 6.2.12; A III.9.9. The first part of the translation is quoted from South, “Imagination,” p. 142.
87 C 6.2.13; A III.9.10; see also C 6.5.8; A III.12.7.
88 C 6.2.13; A III.9.10. In his Disputationes metaphysicae, Suárez returns to the traditional
view that the species are transmitted from the eye to the inner sense through the optic
nerve (dm 18.8.40).
212 Knuuttila
that has no bodily organ. It does not need the body for its activities, as is clear
from the angels, but it functions in humans by using concepts that it forms
through turning to the phantasms whenever it thinks with universals. The
proper object of the intellect is the essence or substantial form of things. This
is potentially intelligible and made actually intelligible through the intelligi-
ble species, which the active intellect forms by illuminating the phantasms
and abstracting the form from the material and singular aspects of the rele-
vant phantasms. The passive intellect is then actualized by an intelligible spe-
cies in the same way as a sensory power is actualized by a visible species. The
function of the active intellect is to form the intelligible species, and the func-
tion of the passive intellect is to understand the object when it is informed by
this species. According to Aquinas, the intelligible form is not the object of
the act of intellection. He argued, instead, that it is not that which is under-
stood but that through which the intellect understands. The intellect treats
its extramental proper object as a universal form, although the universal
aspect exists only in the intellect. If the universal forms subsisted in the extra-
mental world, they could directly activate the possible intellect and the active
intellect would consequently be superfluous. Similarly, the passive intellect
would be superfluous if the active intellect understood the species or the
phantasms.89
Why should the active intellect turn to the phantasms whenever a con-
cept is formed or used? Apart from the activating mechanism of the potency
model, it was thought that understanding universals included their being
about things with which one is acquainted through phantasms, although the
essences themselves were not perceivable. Aquinas thought that while Plato
regarded the universal idea as a model through which things are what they
are and recognized as its copies, the followers of Aristotle regard the phan-
tasms as examples of things with essences that are understood in a universal
way.90
Medieval adherents of the species theory maintained that the formal same-
ness between the species in the soul and the form in the object, whether
perceptible or potentially intelligible, combines the acts with their objects;
this connection, furthermore, is provided by the things themselves and makes
cognition objective.91 Formal sameness somehow brings the world into the
mind, and the adherence to this kind of realism may have contributed to
89 st I, q. 79, a. 3; ibid., I, q. 85, aa.1-3.

90 Ibid., I, q. 84, aa. 4, 7.
91 Ibid., I, q. 85, a. 2, ad 1; Ceslao Pera, Pierre Marc, and Pietro Caramello, eds., Summa contra
gentiles (Turin, 1961–67), III.49.
overlooking the problems in the species explanation of cognitive acts.92 The

question thus remains: what is formally the same as the substantial form in
things—is it the non-relational abstracted species, the relational act of cogni-
tion, or something else?93 It has been argued that Aquinas operates with a
basic conception of intentionality that is not reducible to his insights about
sameness or similarity in other contexts.94 Unfortunately, Aquinas and his
contemporary Aristotelians did not have much to say about the intentionality
of cognitive acts themselves, although they took it for granted that they were
about objects. Instead, Henry of Ghent, Peter John Olivi, and Duns Scotus
focused their attention on the difference between intention and species recep-
tion in cognition.95
While Suárez follows the main lines of the Thomist theory, he criticizes the
description of the agent intellect in Aquinas and later Thomists, particularly
in Cajetan. Suárez is unsatisfied with the traditional attempts to explain
how the active intellect illuminates the phantasms and how these contribute
to intellection. He stresses that the illumination cannot be understood as a
real operation in such a way that a phantasm as a material entity would be
changed by the spiritual intellectual power to become a spiritual constituent
92 One problem is that when the immediate activator of the possible intellect is the species,
which is rendered actually intelligible by the agent intellect, the caused actuality of the
passive intellect does not seem to be the actuality of the form but the understanding of
the object, which was not previously understood. This is not in agreement with Aristotle’s
thesis that the passive potency is actualized by an activator, which is already what the
actualized potency will be (Met. 9.2). The same question could be asked about the senses.
Insofar as the act of the faculty is perceiving the object that causes the act, this actuality
differs from the actuality of the cause: the activator is the perceptible form as not per-
ceived, and the actuality of the potency is an act of perceiving the object.
93 For some discussions of formal sameness in medieval theories of cognition, see Robert
Pasnau, Theories of Cognition in the Later Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 31–124;
Dominik Perler, Theorien der Intentionalität im Mittelalter (Frankfurt am Main, 2002);
John P. O’Callaghan, Thomist Realism and the Linguistic Turn: Toward a More Perfect Form
of Existence (Notre Dame, IN, 2003); Robert Pasnau, “Id quo cognoscimus,” in Theories of
Perception in Medieval and Early Modern Philosophy, ed. Simo Knuuttila and Pekka
Kärkkäinen (Dordrecht, 2008), pp. 131–149.
94 Jeffrey E. Brower and Susan Brower-Toland, “Aquinas on Mental Representation: Concepts
and Intentionality,” The Philosophical Review 117 (2008): 193–243.
95 See notes 41 and 42 above; Peter King, “Rethinking Representation in the Middle Ages: A
Vade-Mecum to Medieval Theories of Mental Representation,” in Representation and
Objects of Thought in Medieval Philosophy, ed. Henrik Lagerlund (Aldershot, 2007), 81–100;
Giorgio Pini, “Can God Create My Thoughts? Scotus’s Case against the Causal Account of
Intentionality,” Journal of the History of Philosophy 49 (2010): 39–63.
214 Knuuttila
of intellection, but it is also impossible that the phantasm as material being

could have a causal role with respect to the act of understanding.96 His own
view is similar to his account of the relationship between the act of an external
sense and the accompanying act of imagination, which is determined by the
former but not caused by it. Accordingly, he writes:
The agent intellect never brings about an intelligible species unless it is

determined by the cognition of the fantasy…This determination does not
arise from any efficacy of the phantasm itself but only because it provides
matter and a kind of example to the intellect, by reason of the union
which it has in the same soul.97
The determination between the acts exemplifies how “the act of one power has
a necessary connection with the act of another.” Suárez thinks that when-
ever the intellect forms a simple intellection about intelligible things in the
world, the imagination is actual, and vice versa. The phantasm, moreover,
determines the content of intellection by serving as an example of what is
understood as a universal.98 Efficient causation is already blocked for Suárez by
the principle that there cannot be any causal influence between the powers
that belong to hierarchically different ontological levels, such as imagination
and intellect, and as stated above, there is no efficient causation between the vital
powers of the same level either. Vital powers are immune to external causal
influence.99 According to Suárez, the traditional notions of illuminating the
phantasms, abstracting the species from the phantasm, or making intelligible
things actually intelligible should all be understood as referring to one act, since
“the active intellect does not have any other act but producing the intelligible
species.” Thus, the illumination of the phantasms is the production of the species
in the possible intellect; this is called the illumination of phantasms because in
this way the intellect grasps what is represented in phantasms.100 As for abstract-
ing the species and making things actually understandable, Suárez states:
I am sure, however, that an object does not become actually intelligible

except through the production of the intelligible species in which the
96 C 9.2.5-10; A IV.2.4-10.
97 C 9.2.11-12; A IV.2.11-12. See also C 9.7.5-6; A IV.7.3.
98 C 9.2.13; A IV.2.13.
99 Ludwig, Das akausaule Zusammenwirken, pp. 35–61; Leen Spruit, Species intelligibilis:
From Perception to Knowledge (Leiden, 1995), vol. 2, pp. 294–307.
100 C 9.2.14-15; A IV.2.14-15.
thing is represented in a special way…the intelligible thing does not move

our intellect effectively since it is not actually intelligible, but it changes
the intellect formally through the species in which it is included in a spe-
cial way…The species is said to be abstracted because the active intellect
by its power produces a spiritual species which represents the same
nature which the phantasm represents.101
Suárez argues that the intellect can understand a singular thing through its
proper species and concept, thus distancing himself from the Thomist view
that the intellect is familiar with the particulars only indirectly, through reflect-
ing on a universal concept as being abstracted from the phantasms of singu-
lars. For Suárez, the intellect forms concepts differently, depending on whether
one is considering individuals or their common features with a universal. One
thinks about individual human beings with concepts that are formed on the
basis of the species. These correspond to phantasms that are more concrete
than the phantasms that are sufficient for a universal concept.102
In forming these concepts, whether universal or particular, human beings do
not know their essence except through their empirical features. This is a limita-
tion of their intellect and the reason for the necessary conversion to phantasms,
which, in comparison to higher intellects, shows that human beings have the
lowest status in the hierarchy of intellectual beings.103 The different operations of
the active and passive intellect derive from the same imperfection. Suárez thinks
that it is more reasonable to regard these as operations of one intellectual power
than of two genuinely distinct powers.104 In addition to discussing the formation
of simple concepts, Suárez deals in a traditional way with combining and divid-
ing concepts, and the difference between a mere apprehensive composition
or division and an assertive judgment about them. These are operations of the
one intellectual power, as are the acts of theoretical and practical reasoning.105
8 Appetitive Motive Powers
Following the scholastic tradition, Suárez explains that in addition to the cog-
nitive powers of the soul there are also appetitive powers that bring about
101 C 9.2.16-17; cf. A IV.2.17-18.

102 C 9.3.3-12; A IV.3.2-11.
103 C 9.7.7-8; A IV.7.4.
104 C 9.8.18; A IV.8.13.
105 C 5.6.6-7; ibid., 9.9.13; A III.6.3-4; ibid., IV.9.10.
216 Knuuttila
behavioural changes. The appetitive power at the sensory level is the seat of
the passions or emotions, and that at the intellectual level is the will.106 In
addition to these two appetitive powers there is a separate motive power,
which is responsible for the involuntary, continuous movements of the heart
and the lungs, and for the involuntary or voluntary movements of the parts of
the organism that are required for the actions suggested by the appetitive pow-
ers. In his commentary on Aristotle’s De anima (book 5 of the De anima),
Suárez discusses the appetitive powers in general in disputation 10, moving to
focus on the passions in disputation 11, the will in disputation 12, and other
moving powers of the soul in disputation 13. The will is discussed in many
other places as well, and a longer discussion of passions is found in disputation
1 of the fourth tract of his commentary on Aquinas’s Summa theologiae.107
Suárez regards the appetitive powers as cognitive, functioning in co-opera-
tion with the act of external or internal senses or, as with the will, the acts of
the intellect. The sensory appetite is by nature inclined to achieving sensible
good things, whether directly or by avoiding harmful things. Its acts are reac-
tions to relevant cognitive functions grasping their objects. The objects of the
passions are things that make living beings feel pleasure or distress, and which
are useful or harmful for them.108 Animals recognise the objects as sensible
good or evil by their estimative power. The evaluations of animals are mostly
instinctual, while in humans the role of instinct is less dominant and the cog-
nitive aspect of the passions is richer.109 The passions are not free acts in the
same way as those of the will, but human beings can control the passions and
emotional behaviour by the will. The passions themselves are not chosen,
being part of the psychosomatic mechanism that serves the lives of sensitive
living beings.110
While the basic function of the passions as appetitive acts is to initiate
behavioural changes, the acts are also associated with pleasant or unpleasant
feelings related to the objects of adhesion or aversion. Suárez characterizes
love, which is the basic passion, as an impulse, liking and pleasure with respect
to an object.111 More importantly, passions are associated with physiological
106 C 10.1.2-3; A V.1.2-3.

107 Tractatus quinque ad Primam Secundae D. Thomae Aquinatis in Opera omnia, vol. 4 (Paris,
1856), tract. IV, disp. 1, 454–477.
108 C 10.1.2; ibid., 10.2.3; ibid., 10.3.6-7, 11; A V.1.2; ibid., V.2.3; ibid., V.3.3-4, 8.
109 C 5.6.13-14; ibid., 8.1.10; cf. A 3.6.7 (without the discussion of instincts); A III.30.7.
110 Ad Primam Secundae, 4.1.2.2 (457).
111 Ad Primam Secundae, 4.1.5.3 (462). The feeling aspect is assumed rather than discussed in
Suárez.
changes, such as the heartbeat or the movements of vital spirits, expressive

bodily movements, laughter and weeping in humans, and various behavioural
acts that are different for different passions.112 Cognition, feeling, bodily affect,
and behavioural change are the traditional elements of the compositional
analysis of emotions in the Aristotelian tradition and in Aquinas, which Suárez
largely follows.113
Suárez has not much to add to the first part of Aquinas’s taxonomy of emo-
tions, which consists of the division of six concupiscible emotions: love, desire,
and joy with respect to a good object, and hate, avoidance, and distress with
respect to an evil object. The first pair (love-hate) is an initial reaction
with respect to an object, the second pair (desire-avoidance) is a stronger reac-
tion that inclines to an action towards the object, and the third pair (joy-dis-
tress) refers to an emotional state when the desire is fulfilled or the thing
avoided takes place.114 While Aquinas claims that there are these six passions
of the concupiscible power and five additional passions of the really distinct
irascible power, Suárez argues that there is only one sensitive appetitive power:
Therefore, we can explain the reasons behind the names ‘irascible’ and
‘concupiscible’ in another way. In my opinion, they do not signify two
appetites but one and the same conceived in different ways, since they
can be considered as two in the object of the appetite: the ‘appetible’
good and whatever follows upon it of itself or what prevents the pursuit
of such a good and deprives us of the beloved good. The appetite insofar
as it desires the good is called concupiscible; insofar as it rises up against
whatever gets in the way of this sort of good, so as to protect its good, it is
called irascible.115
Aquinas’s five irascible emotions are reactions to the objects that are first loved
or hated by a concupiscible passion, and which are arduous and demand more
effort: hope and desperation are about future good things (the former with
a trust in success and the latter without it), courage and fear are analogous
reactions to future evil, and anger is about a present evil. The concupiscible
112 C 11.2.1, 10-11; A V.5.1, 11–14; Ad Primam Secundae, 4.1.1.4 (457); ibid., 4.1.4.7 (461).
113 See Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy (Oxford, 2004),
pp. 32–35, 225–226, 246–253.
114 C 11.2.2; A V.5.2.
115 Ad Primam Secundae 4.1.3.2 (458); trans. in Peter King, “Late Scholastic Theories of the
Passions: Controversies in the Thomist Tradition,” in Emotions and Choice from Boethius to
Descartes, ed. Henrik Lagerlund and Mikko Yrjönsuuri, Studies in the History of Philosophy
of Mind (Dordrecht, 2002), p. 239.
218 Knuuttila
passions are arranged into opposed pairs on the basis of opposed objects, and
the irascible ones are so arranged on the basis of the opposed attitudes to the
same object, except anger.116 While this is a possible classification of the iras-
cible emotions in Suárez’s view, he argues that the principles that Aquinas
applies in the classification of the concupiscible passions offer a general for-
mal taxonomy of all types of passion from the point of view of their relation to
the end. The number of particular passions located within this framework is
very great. Suárez then goes on to say that Aquinas’s eleven passions may be
separated on the basis of different motions and the alterations of the body
associated with them. This remark, however, is not elaborated upon.117
Suárez regards the relation between the preceding evaluative cognition and
a passion as an example of the sympathetic connection between vital acts
without a causal influence. The appetitive power by itself is inclined towards
its object and actualizes itself when there is a relevant cognitive act. The rela-
tionship between the passion and the accompanying acts of the moving power
is also a sympathetic connection, whether at the level of inner vegetative acts
or external bodily action.118 The organ of the passions is the heart, which is the
centre of vegetative operations as well.119
Aquinas describes external physical pain and internal emotional pain as fol-
lows: external pain is caused by something repugnant to the body, while internal
pain is caused by what is repugnant to sensory appetite. External pain follows
an external perception, particularly that of touch, and internal pain follows an
act of internal sense.120 Presenting the same distinction, Suárez tries to specify
the relation between the pain felt and the sensation of the object of touch. He
is inclined to think that physical pain is not an adverbial aspect of sensation
but a separate feeling in the appetitive power.121
One of Scotus’s influential psychological innovations was the idea of the
passions of the will, such as pleasure and distress; this was new in comparison
to the traditional view that emotional passions were strictly restricted to
the motions of the sensory soul.122 Scotus’s theory was discussed by many
116 st II-I, q. 23, aa. 1–4.

117 C 11.1.2; A V.4.3; Ad Primam Secundae 4.1.12.2-6 (475).
118 C 10.3.9; 11.2.10; A V.3.6; V.4.13; Ad Primam Secundae 4.1.1.4 (457); ibid., 4.1.6.4 (464); ibid.,
4.1.12.11 (477).
119 C 11.1.7; A V.4.7.
120 st II-I, q. 35, a. 7.
121 C 11.2.5-7; A V.5.10.
122 For Scotus’s view, see Ordinatio III, d.15, q. un., nn. 47–49 (ed. Vatican, vol. 9, pp. 498–500);
see also Simo Knuuttila, Emotions in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy (Oxford, 2004),
pp. 265–271.
sixteenth-century writers, particularly because Cardinal Cajetan applied it in

his commentary on Aquinas’s Summa theologiae.123 Suárez was sympathetic
with Scotus’s considerations about the pleasures and distresses of the will,
except that in his view these were not passions but acts of the will, since all
occurrences of the will are vital acts and therefore not externally caused.
Furthermore, while pleasure and distress are considered acts of the will, they
are not free acts, as they are determined by the awareness that pleasant or
unpleasant things take place or may come to be. The will itself, as a vital power,
is the source of these necessitated reactions:
But one might ask whether [joy] is an act produced by the will or whether
it is merely a passion, since Scotus, in speaking about joy above, states
that it is merely a passion. Similarly he says that fruition as an act is in the
intellect and as a passion in the will. The basis of Scotus’s view is that all
acts of the will are under its control, but this is not the case with joy and
distress…However, I say that fruition is an act which is effectively pro-
duced by the will…The strongest reason for this is the common principle
that the acts of life proceed from an intrinsic principle, and joy is most
manifestly an act of life…It is possible that it is a particular act of the will,
which is vital, a particular rest or suavity and sweetness, which is born
from the appetite itself through the presence of the good which is loved.124
The main function of the will is to make decisions about action, and these acts
are not determined by the evaluations of the practical intellect, which precede
them. Hence, regarding the question of the freedom of the will, Suárez follows
Scotus rather than Aquinas. According to Aquinas, the will naturally desires
human good, and chooses recommendations derived through reason about
how a good end is best achieved in a particular situation. These choices are free
in the sense that they are based on the deliberation of reason rather than being
externally determined. For Scotus, on the other hand, the will as a free cause
decides whether or not it accepts the evaluative suggestion arrived at through
reason.125 Suárez defends the Scotist view of the freedom of the will, arguing
123 Sancti Thomae Aquinatis Opera omnia iussu Leonis XII P.M. edita cum commentariis
Thomae de Vio Caietani IX (Rome, 1889), p. 446; John Mair, In primum Sententiarum (Paris,
1510), I.1.6, 44ra.
124 Ad Primam Secundae 2.7.1.8-10 (252); joy is characterized as an action necessitated by
achieving the object of one’s desire. See also C 11.2.3; A 5.5.3; dm 23.3.15.
125 See, for example, Aquinas, st I, q. 83, a. 1; John Duns Scotus, Reportatio Parisiensis II.25,
nn. 15, 16, 20, in Opera omnia XI (Lyon, 1639), p. 370.
220 Knuuttila
that the will is not free if it is unable not to consent to the proposal of reason,
or if it could not will otherwise when it wills something.126 Suárez formulates
his version of the Scotist libertarian psychology of the will by stating that
the will “is determined by the intellect with respect to sufficiency, but it
determines itself with respect to efficacy.”127 Thus, the intellect neither causes
nor necessitates the free acts of the will. Instead, the relation between
these two vital powers is characterized in terms of sympathy, consonance, and
consensus.128
9 Summary
The questions that Suárez deals with in his psychology are for the most part
traditional themes of Aristotelian scholasticism and Galenic medicine. While
Aristotle and Aquinas are his main authorities, he often regards the new ideas
of Scotus as worthy of consideration. In addition to scholastic works, Suárez
also pays attention to sixteenth-century theological, philosophical, and medi-
cal discussions. His most significant new contribution to the field is his theory
of non-causal sympathetic connections between vital acts. He returns to this
conception in all his disputations about the powers of the soul, apparently
thinking that it is an original systematic insight. This idea involves a teleologi-
cal conception of the powers of the soul, which is considered the informing
principle of the hylomorphic composite and the primary controller of the sym-
pathetic network of vital acts for the survival and well-being of living corporeal
creatures.129 While Suárez applies the hylomorphic model to the analysis of
vegetative and sensory powers, his treatment of the intellectual level is more
dualist. Thus, the vital acts of composite beings are treated as being guided by
the soul at all levels of their activities, and Suárez insists they form a centred
unity because of the unity of the soul.
126 dm 19.6.2; ibid., 19.9.3.

127 Ad Primam Secundae 1.8.4.11, in Opera omnia (Paris, 1854), p. 264. See also Sydney Penner,
“Free and Rational: Suárez on the Will,” Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 95.1 (2013):
1–35.
128 C 12.1.8; A V.7.7; dm 23.1.11; ibid., 23.7.2.
129 See also Simo Knuuttila, “The Connections between Vital Acts in Suárez’s Psychology”, in
Suárez’s Metaphysics in Its Historical and Systematic Context, ed. Lukáš Novák (Berlin
2014), with minor overlappings.
chapter 9
Suárez’s Influence on Protestant Scholasticism

The Cases of Hollaz and Turretin
John Kronen
1 Introduction
The fact that Suárez profoundly influenced Protestant scholasticism has long
been recognized,1 but the nature of his influence remains obscure. I wish to
shed light on it by attending to the doctrinal commitments of the Lutherans
and the Reformed, the two branches of Protestantism influenced by his
thought. If one does not look to their doctrines (including those that separated
them), one will not be able to explain why Suárez influenced Lutheran and
Reformed Scholastics far more than he did such seventeenth-century thinkers
as Hobbes or Locke, nor will one be able to explain why he had a greater influ-
ence on the Lutherans than on the Reformed.
In order to make my paper manageable, I shall concentrate on two repre-
sentatives of high Protestant scholasticism,2 the Lutheran David Hollaz and
the Reformed Francis Turretin. Hollaz’s Examen theologicum acroamaticum3
(hereafter eta) and Turretin’s Institutio theologicae elenctiae4 (hereafter ite)
are masterpieces of Protestant scholastic theology. When both wrote their dog-
matics, the Protestant scholastics had had time to formulate precisely the doc-
trinal commitments of their respective communions, work out their logical
entailments, and absorb what they could of Suárez; therefore, both the eta
and the ite contain precise, sophisticated, and thorough summations of the
results of the labours of over a century of Protestant scholasticism. Since the
eta and the ite are theological in scope, my paper shall focus on the theologi-
cal works of Suárez as well; it must be remembered, however, that Suárez,
1 See Robert Sharlemann, Thomas Aquinas and John Gerhard (New Haven, 1964), pp. 16–18.
2 I am using the divisions of Protestant Scholasticism into early, high, and late, proposed by
Richard Muller in Post Reformation Reformed Dogmatics; vol. I, Prolegomena to Theology
(Grand Rapids, 1987), pp. 28–53.
3 Originally published in Stargard, 1707. In this paper I have used a facsimile reprint of the
original (Darmstadt, 1971).
4 Originally published in Geneva, 1679–1685; English trans. George Giger (Philipsburg, 1992–
1997). All page references here are to vol. 1 of Giger’s translation.

222 Kronen
Hollaz, and Turretin embedded their theology in a well-determined metaphys-

ics, making ample use of philosophical terminology and argumentation.
The last aspect mentioned about Hollaz’s and Turretin’s theology raises a
question I wish to address, namely, whether or not the Protestant scholastics
were unfaithful to the sixteenth-century reformers, granted the latter’s antipa-
thy to Aristotle and the Schoolmen.5 In my view, Richard Muller is correct in
thinking that the Protestant scholastics were faithful to the Reformers,6 and
Ritschl was wrong to claim that Melanchthon betrayed them by reintroducing
Aristotelian philosophy into Protestant thought.7 I cannot adequately argue
for this here, but will simply note in its support that Protestant scholasticism
arose only among those Protestant communions that were ‘catholic’ in the
sense of accepting the ancient ecumenical creeds and emphasizing their
importance—viz. the Lutheran and the Reformed—and it did not arise among
radical Protestants.8 The latter either rejected the ancient creeds or accorded
them little importance. The catholic Protestants, in fighting for the truth and
relevance of the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation against attacks
from the Socinians in particular, found that they were unable to do so without
making use of the technical terminology that the Fathers had adopted from
Greek philosophy in order to express those doctrines as precisely as possible.9
Once this happened, it was only natural that the catholic Protestants should
re-appropriate the ontology implicit in the older theological terminology and
therefore study with care the subtle analyses of that ontology in the Fathers
and the Schoolmen. Suárez’s Disputationes metaphysicae (hereafter dm) is the
culmination of centuries of refinement of that ontology; indeed, one could
argue it is a descendent of John of Damascus’s Philosophical Chapters, though
its size, rigour, and thoroughness make the comparison rather ridiculous.
At any rate, that Suárez’s metaphysics was in profound harmony with the
ancient catholic faith made it attractive to catholic Protestants. This explains
5 It should be noted here, however, that even Luther was more ambivalent towards philosophy
than is customarily thought. See Paul Althaus, The Theology of Martin Luther, trans. Robert
Shultz (Philadelphia, pa, 1963), c. 8.
6 This is a constant theme of Muller’s magisterial, four-volume Post Reformation Reformed
Dogmatics (Grand Rapids, mi, 1987–2003).
7 For a summary of Ritschl’s arguments on this matter, see his celebrated essay “Theology and
Metaphysics.”
8 For an antidote to the tendency to see the reformation movements of the sixteenth century
monolithically, see Carter Lindberg, The European Reformations (Boston, ma, 1996).
9 On this, see the passage by the early Lutheran Scholastic Martin Chemnitz, quoted by
Henrich Schmid in The Doctrinal Theology of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, trans. Charles
Hay and Henry Jacobs (1875; repr. Minneapolis, 1961), pp. 138–140.
Suárez’s Influence On Protestant Scholasticism 223
in general why Suárez had such an influence on Protestant scholasticism, but

in order to understand his influence more specifically, we must turn to his
theology.
2 Suárez’s Theological Works
Suárez is now mainly known for his dm. This is understandable in light of the
work’s exhaustiveness, rigour, and profundity. But Suárez, though a great phi-
losopher, was (as has been mentioned throughout this volume) first a theolo-
gian, whose primary impetus in writing the dm was to provide a complete
explication and defence of the ontology necessary for understanding sacred
theology; furthermore, Suárez’s theological output was even more overwhelm-
ing than his philosophical work. The totality of his major theological works,
published together after his death in a systematic (rather than chronological)
order, dwarfs even Aquinas’s Summa.10 Arranged systematically, they are as
follows:
De divina substantia eiusque attributis (1606)

De divina praedestinatione et reprobatione (1606)
De sanctissimo trinitatis mysterio (1606)
De angelis (1620)
De opere sex dierum (1621)
De anima (1621)
De ultimo fine hominis (1628)
De legibus (1612)
De gratia (1619)
De fide, spe, et charitate (1622)
De religione (1608–1625)
De incarnatione (1590–1592)
De sacramentis (1593–1603)
It is a testament to Suárez’s systematic ability that his theological works, writ-

ten over a long period and interrupted by the composition of the Disputationes,
could be published after his death according to a systematic arrangement, and
also that these works are marvelously consistent with each other and with his
philosophical works. In this paper I shall be most concerned with the first two
10 It is because of their size that I have used their two-volume, abbreviated edition, entitled
Theologiae summa, seu compendium, ed. Francisco Noel (Paris, 1858).
224 Kronen
works from the list above, though I shall also refer to De gratia and the
Dispuatationes.
3 Hollaz and Turretin
Hollaz and Turretin wrote at the peak of Protestant scholasticism, their theo-
logical works being as scholastic in terminology, philosophical presupposi-
tions, and method of argument as Suárez’s. Both scholastics had read Suárez,
as had been the custom of catholic Protestants going back to the early 1600s.
Aside from doctrinal matters, they differ from Suárez in manifesting a stronger
humanistic influence. This is shown by their mastery of Hebrew and Greek,
and their concern with etymology.11
Both Hollaz’s eta and Turretin’s ite are large works, though neither
approaches Aquinas’s Summa in length. The greater brevity of their works
reflects Melanchthon’s insistence that theology should teach those points of
doctrine that are essential for salvation, and should avoid vain scholastic
squabbles concerning, for instance, the mode of angelic knowledge or the pre-
cise nature of divine concurrence.12 By the time of Hollaz and Turretin, some
of these questions had returned to Protestant dogmatics, but their treatment
was briefer than in Suárez’s work.
4 Suárez’s Influence
In tracing Suárez’s influence on Hollaz and Turretin, I shall attend to the fol-
lowing: (1) theological method, (2) natural theology, (3) the divine essence and
attributes, and (4) God’s knowledge and will in predestination. In many cases
it is impossible to demonstrate Suárez’s influence on Hollaz and Turretin, since
even where his influence seems clear, they are often silent on the matter.13
11 Whether or not Suárez knew Greek is disputed, but his frequent citing of Greek editions
of Aristotle’s works is evidence that he did.
12 On the influence of Melanchthon’s theology on Protestant Scholasticism, see Kenneth
Appold, Abraham Calov’s Doctrine of Vocatio in its Systematic Context (Tubigen, 1987),
pp. 16–21.
13 This should not be understood as arising from an antipathy to admitting agreement with
a Jesuit—Hollaz approvingly cites Toletus on the nature of divine concurrence, and
Turretin approvingly cites Bellarmine on predestination. Rather it should be understood
as reflecting the mistrust that older theologians had of novelty in theology. Truly novel
theological doctrines (as opposed to making explicit what was implicit in earlier
But one can hazard plausible guesses, and by comparing them with each other
one can deepen one’s understanding of the nuances of the relation between
Roman Catholic theology and catholic Protestant theology. Indeed, one of the
goals of this essay is to show that many of the common assumptions about the
differences between the two rest upon gross generalizations and ignorance of
classical theological works.
4.1 Theological Method

By examining the methods employed by Hollaz and Turretin in their dogmat-
ics, one can reasonably infer the influence of Suárez.
With Turretin, one can identify the influence of Suárez’s modification of the
medieval questio method, as found in the dm.14 The locus classicus of the ques-
tio method is Aquinas’s Summa, which is divided into three parts, each then
divided into ‘quaestiones’, which are further divided into ‘articuli’. The ‘questions’
of the Summa are topics around which Aquinas weaves questions, while the
‘articles’ are questions that have the form of ‘whether p or not-p’. These are fol-
lowed by a series of arguments (Videtur quod) for the answer contrary to the
one Aquinas favours, then a citation from some authority on behalf of Aquinas’s
answer (Sed contra), followed by arguments on behalf of that answer
(Respondeo), and finally responses to the ‘Videtur’ arguments (Ad primum, etc.).
In his dm Suárez greatly expands this method. The first difference is that in
the place of ‘questions’ Suárez has ‘disputations’, and in the place of ‘articles’ he
has ‘sections’. The real difference, however, occurs within the sections. Instead
of starting with brief arguments for a view contrary to the one he favours,
Suárez first lists all the answers he has come across to the question raised in
the section, and gives the names of the authors (or schools of thought) holding
them, explicating their reasons in some depth. Usually he gives the answer he
favours last. In the body of the section (Quaestionis resolutio), Suárez expounds
at length upon the reasons for his favoured answer, in the process raising and
answering objections. At the end of the section Suárez often notes again the
main arguments for the opposing positions, sometimes making certain dis-
tinctions necessary to dispatch with them in full, and often simply observing
that he has already done so. Occasionally he also raises new objections. When
formulations) were regarded as a mark of heresy. Hence Hollaz’s and Turretin’s prefer-
ence, in citing authorities, for older authors—the Fathers and earlier scholastics (Anselm,
Aquinas, Bonaventure)—rather than more recent ones.
14 This method evolved out of the longer classroom lectio, used to teach important texts. See
Ulrich Leinsle, Introduction to Scholastic Theology, trans. Michael Miller (Washington,
d.c., 2010), pp. 39–43.
226 Kronen
he does that, he answers them in the next section or directs the reader to the
place in the dm where they are answered.
Turretin’s method in the ite is so similar to Suárez’s in the dm that it is hard
to think it accidental. Turretin’s work, however, is divided into ‘topics’ rather
than ‘disputations’, because Melanchthon, the author of the first Protestant
dogmatics, had divided his work into ‘topics’ (loci). Nevertheless, unlike
Melanchthon, but like Suárez, Turretin divides his loci into a series of ‘whether’
questions, questions that are usually followed immediately by ‘we affirm
(deny) against the so and sos’ (Lutherans, Socinians, etc.). After this there is a
fairly detailed elaboration of the arguments of the ‘so and sos’, and then, in the
body of the question (‘Status Quaestionis’), Turretin gives arguments in favour
of ‘the Orthodox’ position, while also answering objections to it. At the end of
the question (‘Fontes Solutionum’), he makes a number of distinctions relevant
either to understanding fully the nature of the ‘Orthodox’ position, or to grasp-
ing more fully the errors in reasoning of the ‘so and sos’. Turretin’s method in
the ite appears to be an abbreviation of Suárez’s method in the dm.
Suárez’s method in his theological works that are not commentaries on
Aquinas’s Summa is even further removed from the medieval quaestio than the
dm’s approach. In such works, Suárez does raise questions (here called ‘chap-
ters’!) around particular topics, but these are either followed immediately by
one or more ‘notae’, intended to clarify the question, or by a series of assertions
(‘dico 1’, etc.). If these assertions do not immediately follow the question, they
then immediately follow the notes. The fact that several questions in these
works are followed by ‘notes’ may indicate that Suárez had become uncomfort-
able with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer to deep theological questions, feeling the
need to clarify them further before answering. Furthermore, Suárez concludes
most questions in his non-commentarial theological works by raising objec-
tions and immediately answering them, so no new objection is raised before
an earlier is answered. In this way, Suárez makes the dialectic involved in
answering the questions he raises clearer than Aquinas’s technique.
If we look at the method Hollaz employs in the eta we will see that it is a
sophisticated combination of (1) Zabarella’s analytical method with respect to
the order in which topics ought to be raised in practical sciences,15 (2) the ‘defi-
nitional method’ that the Lutheran John Hulsemann developed and John
Scherzer (Leibniz’s teacher) brought to perfection in his Systema theologiae,16
and (3) Suárez’s modification of the quaestio method in his non-commentarial
15 On Zabarella’s influence on Protestant Scholastic Theology, see Appold, Abraham Calov’s

Doctrine, pp. 21–29.
16 See Leinsle, Introduction, pp. 311–315.
theological works. I wish to focus on the way Hollaz combined (2) and (3).
Each of the chapters of Hollaz’s work (=the topics of Turretin’s) is divided into
questions. These are usually ‘what’ questions, allowing Hollaz to give defini-
tions as answers. Immediately following his definitions Hollaz often makes
‘observations’, which serve the same function as Suárez’s ‘notes’. Whether or
not he makes ‘observations’, Hollaz’s answers to his questions often contain
internal letters in parentheses [(a), (b), (c)] that indicate contested parts of the
definition, and proofs are given in the body of the question for each. After
these proofs, Hollaz usually considers a series of objections that he lays out
formally, and, following Suárez, immediately responds to each before raising
another. Furthermore, like Suárez, Hollaz usually names persons or schools of
thought associated with the objections he considers.
An interesting aspect of the definitions Hollaz gives in the eta is that they
are often real, rather than logical, that is, they proceed by way of the four
Aristotelian causes, taking into account further refinements made by Suárez.
Causality was central to Suárez’s thought, and his development of Aristotle’s
causal theory is unrivalled. The Reformed scholastics, and to a greater extent
the Lutherans, were heavily influenced by Suárez’s brilliant rethinking of
Aristotle’s causal theory, and it seems that Hollaz’s definitional prowess owes
much to Saurez.
4.2 Natural Theology

By the time of Turretin and Hollaz, the treatment of natural theology had
become stereotyped in Protestant scholasticism. Though their particular con-
ception of natural theology can be traced to Luther,17 it was Melanchthon who
gave a particular shape to all later Protestant scholastic treatments of natural
theology. Hence, we must begin with the thought of ‘master Philip’.
Melanchthon divided the natural knowledge of God into two species,
‘innate’ (or ‘practical’) and ‘acquired’ (or ‘speculative’).18 By ‘innate natural
knowledge of God’ he meant a knowledge that does not depend on an infer-
ence. For him, this innate knowledge is intimately bound up with the innate
knowledge of the law, ‘written on the heart’. Though Melanchthon’s epistemol-
ogy adumbrated the rationalists’ positions, he never taught Descartes’s doc-
trine of a full-fledged innate idea of God. The Protestant scholastics attempted
to reconcile Melanchthon’s teaching with Aristotelianism by holding that the
innate natural knowledge of God is a quasi-habitus, a tendency of the soul to
17 On Luther’s natural theology see Althaus, The Theology of, chapter 3.

18 See Hans Engelland’s introduction to Melanchthon’s 1555 Loci Communes, trans. Clyde
Mansreck as On Christian Doctrine (1965; repr. Ann Arbor, mi, 1982), pp. xxviii–xxx.
228 Kronen
form some concept of the divine by the age of reason and to believe revealed
truths.19 One might even speak of this ‘knowledge’ as identical to man’s nature
as a religious animal. Taken in this way, the Protestant doctrine of an innate
knowledge of God is not far removed from Suárez’s notion of a ‘practical’
knowledge of the soul’s immortality, a knowledge tied to the natural knowl-
edge of God. Though this practical knowledge involves inferences, it accords
with and is bolstered by man’s natural religiosity. Of this kind of natural knowl-
edge of immortality, Suárez wrote:
This truth once it is presented to the intellect immediately brings with it

a certain consonance with the light of nature. Man is by his very nature
optimally disposed to assent to this truth, and this contributes in no small
way to the fact that arguments which are in themselves very strong
appear even stronger.20
By ‘an acquired natural knowledge of God’, Melanchthon meant a knowledge

of God’s existence that is grounded in an inference.21 Both types of knowledge
are ‘legal’, in the sense that they are capable of leading humans to the knowl-
edge of an eternal, omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly good spirit who cre-
ated the world and who will reward the just and punish the wicked. But they
are unable, in themselves, to bestow a ‘Gospel knowledge’, that is, they cannot,
in themselves, bestow the knowledge of how to appease God’s just wrath or
bring about God’s gracious mercy towards fallen man in the sending of His
Son. Hence, the natural knowledge of God cannot save, and leaves a person
who only possesses it either in despair or with a false sense of his own
righteousness.22
The doctrine of the natural knowledge of God found in the Protestant scho-
lastic tradition is in general agreement with Melanchthon, though it is devel-
oped and defended with skill. Here one notices not so much an augmentation
of the proofs that Melanchthon sketched, but a sophistication in defining the-
ology, dividing it into species, and noting the relation of natural theology to
other species of theology.23 Still, some of the Protestant scholastics did develop
19 See eta, Pt. I, c. 1, q. 5, pp. 299–300.

20 Salvador Castellote, ed., Commentaria una cum questionibus in libros aristotelis de anima
(Madrid, 1978), II, q. 3, n. 30, p. 200.
21 See Sachiko Kusukowa, The Transformation of Natural Philosophy: The Case of Philip
Melanchthon (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 151–154.
22 See On Christian Doctrine, I, pp. 3, 5–7.
23 See Muller, Post Reformation, cc. 4–5.
the proofs for God’s existence at much greater length than Melanchthon did;
Turretin, for example, goes into far more detail about them than Hollaz does.
Indeed, he goes into more detail than any of the Lutheran scholastics in their
dogmatics.
A striking aspect of both Hollaz’s and Turretin’s treatment of the proofs is
that neither makes use of Aquinas’s first way, even though John Gerhard had
given it pride of place. This may be an indication of Suárez’s influence, since he
had found the first way problematic—he worried that the principle upon
which it rests might entail that free actions are impossible,24 and held that it
cannot be used to argue for a God that transcends the physical world.25 While
Hollaz would have shared Suárez’s ‘worry’ about the first way, Turretin, a good
Calvinist, would not. Hence, if Turretin was influenced by Suárez on this mat-
ter, it must have been because he was convinced by Suárez’s arguments that
the first way does not entail a transcendent God.
At any rate, that Suárez influenced Turretin’s treatment of the proofs is clear
from the fact that the first proof he gives is the same as the cosmological proof
Suárez had developed.26 Turretin begins with the self-evident principle that
‘nothing can produce itself’, and then argues, as Suárez did, that supposing that
every being is produced entails absurdities, that is, that either there is a causal
circle (in which case every being would, however mediately, cause itself), or
there is an infinite causal regress (in which case all causes would be middle
causes, which is an absurdity, since a middle requires a terminus a quo).27
Turretin is so close to Suárez here that the first proof he gives could be taken as
a brilliant summary of Suárez’s cosmological proof.28
Hollaz, somewhat strangely (granted, as we will see, that he endorsed a
number of Suárez’s theological doctrines that Turretin did not), did not appro-
priate Suárez’s version of the cosmological proof; instead, he briefly stated
Aquinas’s second and fifth way, and folded them into a discussion of the via
causalitatis, emenentiae, and negationis, which he used to develop a definition
of God substantially the same as Suárez’s.29
24 dm 29.1.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 23).

27 ite, third topic, q. 1, n. 6, p. 170.
28 In arguing against an infinite causal regress, Turretin seems to have been more influenced
by Bonaventure than Suárez, hence Turretin’s support for the Kalam argument.
29 eta, Pt. I, c. 1, q. 5, pp. 295–298.
230 Kronen
4.3 Positive Theology, Negative Theology, and What is Most

Godlike in God
Before discussing Suárez’s influence on Hollaz’s and Turretin’s doctrine of God,
it seems helpful to make some generalizations about the history of Christian
thought with respect to two parameters. The first is epistemic and semantic,
dealing with our knowledge of God and our language about Him; the second is
ontic and religious, dealing with what is most Godlike in God.
Broadly speaking, Christian thinkers divide into two groups with respect to
the first parameter: those who defend an extreme negative theology (nt for
short), according to which all we can know of God is what He is not, and those
who defend a moderately positive theology (pt for short), according to which
we can, however inadequately, know something of God’s nature. According to
nt, terms applied both to God and to creatures apply to God at most as a cause
of certain created attributes. Thus, to say ‘God is a spirit’ is to say that He caused
created spirits, not that He is a spirit.
With respect to the second parameter, Christian thinkers also divide into
two groups, namely, those who hold that what is most Godlike in God is His
sovereignty and power, thus maintaining the ‘sovereignty view of God’ (sv),
and those who emphasize God’s goodness and sanctity, thus subscribing to ‘the
goodness view of God’ (gv).
Though these divisions can be abused, if applied with nuance they can shed
light on the thought of particular theologians, especially since there is an intel-
ligible connection between nt and sv, and between pt and gv. The intelligi-
bility of these connections seems clear; as Leibniz noted, extreme theological
voluntarists, who suppose that whatever God wills is right simply because He
wills it (so that God could will all kinds of things appearing unjust ‘to us’), must
also hold that justice as it exists in God is utterly different from justice as it
exists in us, with the result that we can know nothing about God’s justice.30
Likewise, those who wish to emphasize that God is good in a way that has
meaning to us will naturally suppose that love and justice exist in God in a way
that is truly analogous to the way it exists in us.
In what follows, I assume that there is an intelligible connection between
nt and sv and between pt and gv, such that any theologian who supports nt
will likely support sv, and vice versa.31 I shall further argue that from our three
theologians, Hollaz most consistently endorsed pt and gv, and that though
30 Leibniz, “Meditation on the Common Concept of Justice (c. 1702–3),” in Leibniz: Political
Writings, trans. Patrick Rilely (Cambridge, 1972), pp. 48–49.
31 This is not always the case; the Eastern Fathers tended to endorse both nt and gv, though
one might think them inconsistent in this.
both Suárez and Turretin also endorsed pt and gv on many points, they
endorsed views more congenial to sv in their teachings on reprobation.
4.4 Suárez on the Divine Essence and Attributes

In his De divina substantia, Suárez builds up to a ‘definition’ of God’s essence by
first noting that faith teaches that God is a necessary being, not having exis-
tence from another.32 In Suárez’s doctrine, the independence of God functions
as a quasi-difference in defining God, since it is this that, to our way of conceiv-
ing, first distinguishes God from all other beings. This dovetails with Suárez’s
version of the cosmological argument, since it begins by showing that there is
one, and only one, uncaused being.
After making this point about God’s uniqueness, Suárez argues that God’s
essence and existence are in no way distinct, insisting His essence cannot even
“be conceived through a mode of being in passive or objective potency,33 as the
essence of a creature can, inasmuch as that which cannot receive anything
from another is maximally its own being.”34 For Suárez, this means that even
though in creatures essence and existence are really the same, it is not ‘of ’ the
essence of the creature to exist; rather, the creature receives its actual essence
(=intrinsically existing essence) from God, hence one may draw a conceptual
distinction between the creature’s essence and its existence.
Suárez next raises an important question, namely, ‘whether or not the essence
of God consists solely in being’. He answers that, although one might understand
the Fathers to teach that it does, it would be a mistake to understand them in this
way, since one “ought to understand them [to teach that God’s] being is not a
certain abstraction from everything which has being,” but rather that God is “a
being through His essence who includes in His own simplicity of being every
formality, excellence, actuality, and perfection of being.”35 This shows that, as
conceived by Suárez, God’s simplicity and self-subsistence should not be under-
stood Neoplatonically as an abstraction without richness, but as a unity that
encompasses all the perfections that creatures have in a divided and limited way.
Next, Suárez mentions the ancient viae for forming a conception of
God, insisting that the negative way and the way of causality (which Suárez
32 De div. sub. I, c. 1, dico 3, p. 13 in Migne. All references to Suárez’s theological works, unless
otherwise noted, are to volume 1 of the Migne edition.
33 By ‘passive potency’ Suárez means to refer to an actually existing substantial essence that
is capable of further perfection, and by ‘objective’ he refers to a merely possible being that
exists only as the ‘object’ of a power capable of producing it.
34 De div. sub., I, c. 2, dico 1, p. 14.
35 Ibid., c. 3, nota 1, p. 15.
232 Kronen
idiosyncratically calls ‘the way of relation to creatures’) must be completed by

the way of eminence (which Suárez calls ‘the way of analogy and comparison
to creatures’), by which we come to know that “the perfections of creatures are
in God in a more excellent way, namely, through His essence.”36
Having made these points, Suárez builds up to his definition of God as an
independent “spiritual substance living essentially in the supreme grace of
life…intellectual.”37 In doing this, he first notes that God’s independence
requires that He has a substantial essence that is complete in nature, meaning
that God is free of accidents as well as of any modes of subsistence distinct
from Himself.38 Next, Suárez insists that God is spiritual, not corporeal, and
finally, that God is living. Suárez argues that God must be a living substance
since He must either be living or non-living, and to be living is more excellent.
Furthermore, as intellectual life is the highest form of life, God must possess
intellectual life in the most perfect way, such that in God there is no distinction
between agent and act—in short, in God, understanding and willing are not
distinct from being.39
After giving his definition of God, Suárez reiterates that every predicate that
holds of God holds of Him “intrinsically and absolutely, without any adjoining
accident.” Therefore, all attributes truly predicated of God are without the
imperfections they have when found in creatures; in this way, Suárez insists
that even positive descriptions of God “include a certain negation.”40 Thus, for
Suárez, negative and positive theology subtly modify each other. Nevertheless,
it is clear that he rejects nt, and does so in the name of piety.41 For Suárez, the
Christian faith has nothing to do with a supreme ‘it’, adoring instead a personal
God capable of willing things for a reason.
Before discussing the divine attributes in general, Suárez first discusses the
transcendentals (unity, truth, goodness) as applied to God—the most impor-
tant of these for our purposes being ‘goodness’, since what Suárez says about
that transcendental as it applies to God shows him to be a supporter of
gv. God, Suárez says, is perfectly good, since a being is good insofar as it is
36 Ibid., nota 2.
37 Ibid., dico 4, p. 16.
38 Ibid., dico 1, p. 15. It should be noted that all the Protestant Scholastics followed
Melanchthon in maintaining the traditional doctrine of the divine simplicity, defending
it with zeal against the Socinians.
39 Ibid., dico 3, p. 16.
40 Ibid., dico, 5.
41 Suárez’s religious interest in these questions is clear from his insistence that we must
naturally be able form some concept of God “ut possimus Deum ab alias rebus distinguere…
ad debitum cultum” (Ibid., c. 2, nota 1, p. 14).
complete, and God is maximally complete.42 Creatures are also good, having
goodness in themselves but not from themselves, since they receive their
goodness from God.43 God loves His own essence necessarily, according to
Suárez, but that is because, as the perfect good, He is the most lovable being.44
God also loves creatures insofar as they have intrinsic goodness; creatures,
moreover, can ‘call forth’ God’s complacent love, and the fact that God
bestowed their value on them originally, out of sheer benevolence, does not
change this.
When treating the divine attributes in general, Suárez notes that the sim-
plicity of God does not entail that we cannot truly predicate terms that have
different meanings of Him; thus, that God’s attributes are not really distinct
from God’s essence does not mean, for example, that He is not both merciful
and just—it only means that that in virtue of which He is merciful is also that
in virtue of which He is just.45
Suárez then divides the divine attributes into two classes: negative and
positive.46 The negative attributes remove from God certain imperfections
found in creatures. They are attributes of attributes, and do not tell us any-
thing about what God is, only that, whatever He is, He is infinitely, immutably,
etc. The positive attributes, on the other hand, do reveal something of what
God is. Furthermore, those attributes that do not intrinsically involve imper-
fection (e.g., justice), even if they are imperfect as found in creatures, hold
formally of God.47 This is Suárez’s doctrine of the analogy of intrinsic attribu-
tion according to which, if we say ‘God is just’, that does not mean justice is
something utterly different in God and in humans. Rather, what it means is
that God is perfectly just and cannot fail in His justice through ignorance,
prejudice, greed, etc. Though certain attributes found in creatures may be for-
mally predicated of God, others may be predicated only eminently (e.g., ‘see-
ing’) or metaphorically (e.g., ‘fortress’). For Suárez, to say that God ‘eminently
sees’ means that everything creatures know by seeing, God knows perfectly
through His essence.
In Suárez’s doctrine of the divine essence and attributes, we find a strong
and subtle defence of pt and gv, and hence, so far at least, Suárez’s thought
‘obeys’ the aforementioned law linking the two.
42 Ibid., c. 8, dico 1, p. 20.

43 Ibid.
44 Ibid., dico 2, p. 21.
45 Ibid. c. 9, nota 1, p. 22.
46 Ibid., dico 2.
47 Ibid., dico 1, p. 22, dico, 2, p. 23.
234 Kronen
4.5 A Difficulty Inherited from Luther

Since Luther’s theology (via Calvin) was almost as formative of Reformed the-
ology as it was of Lutheran, it is impossible to understand why Suárez influ-
enced Hollaz and Turretin the way he did without some consideration of
Luther’s theology, and of the different ways Melanchthon and Calvin chose to
deal with a central inconsistency in it.
Luther championed gv (certain dark aspects of The Bondage of the Will not-
withstanding),48 emphasizing God’s agapic love.49 It was for this reason that
Luther was so opposed to ‘works righteousness’, considering it a form of idola-
try that obscures God’s goodness, and necessarily leads a person to look to her
own works to consider how much better (or worse) she is than others. This is
not what God intends, Luther insisted, since we are to do what is right because
God commands it and because of our neighbour’s need.50
In order to glorify God’s agapic love and put up strong walls against ‘spiritual
arrogance’ (the subtlest and deadliest form of idolatry),51 Luther denied that
the will of man plays any active role in conversion; to hold that it does, for
Luther, is to teach that man is the cause of his own salvation, thus derogating
from God’s love.52 If Luther were a universalist, this would not have created
any internal inconsistency in his theology—but he was not, being convinced
by Scripture that some are lost. Thus, Luther taught that (1) God, out of agapic
love, earnestly wills to save all sinners; (2) God is solely responsible for the sal-
vation of sinners; and (3) some are never saved. Luther admitted that not even
‘the light of grace’ can show how these propositions are consistent, but that the
‘light of glory’ will.53
Melanchthon and Calvin, being less sanguine about the ability of the light
of glory to make logical inconsistencies consistent, felt compelled to modify
Luther’s soteriology. Melanchthon, sharing Luther’s gv instincts, dispensed
with proposition (2), and taught that fallen humans have the power to reject or
48 For aspects of Luther’s teaching in The Bondage of the Will that conflict with his theology
as a whole, see Althaus, The Theology of, pp. 276–280.
49 Ibid., pp. 115–118.
50 Ibid., pp. 144–152.
51 On this, see Luther’s celebrated commentary on the first commandment in his Large
Catechism.
52 Luther sometimes expressed his theology with scholastic precision, saying that in conver-
sion the will “non est efficiens causa justificationis sed materialis tantum,” and that we are
justified “per fidem sed non propter fidem.”
53 On this, see Henry Cole, trans., The Bondage of the Will (Grand Rapids, 1976),
pp. 388–389.
accept grace.54 He argued that this does not entail ‘work’s righteousness’, since
by accepting unmerited grace a man no more does a meritorious work than a
beggar who accepts unmerited bread. Calvin, having stronger sv instincts than
Melanchthon, dispensed with proposition (1), believing that not to do so would
compromise God’s sovereignty.55
Though the Formula of Concord, the last of the Lutheran confessions, con-
demned Melanchthon’s teaching, later Lutheranism returned to it, changing it
only by speaking of fallen man’s ability to not-reject grace, instead of his ability
to accept it.56 The Arminians aside, the Reformed followed Calvin on this mat-
ter. Arminianism, however, was condemned by the Synod of Dort, and it never
came to be accepted by the majority of the Reformed in the seventeenth cen-
tury, in the way Melanchthonian ‘synergism’ came to be among the Lutherans.
Understanding that Hollaz inherited the Melanchthonian modification of
Luther’s doctrine while Turretin inherited the Calvinist is necessary for under-
standing the differences in their appropriation of Suárez.
4.6 Hollaz on the Divine Essence and Attributes

Anyone who reads the dds and then the De deo chapter of the eta will be
struck by how closely Hollaz’s doctrine of God resembles Suárez’s. It’s true that
such early Lutheran dogmaticians as Chemnitz constructed a doctrine of God
that made the acceptance of many of Suárez’s central theological doctrines
possible for the Lutherans, but it was Calov’s decision to accept the doctrine of
‘middle knowledge’ and grant that humans have the ability to reject or not
reject grace that opened the floodgates to the eventual Suarezianization of
Lutheranism in Quenstedt, Baier, and Hollaz.57 Here I will concentrate on four
54 See On Christian Doctrine, V, esp. pp. 59–61. In spite of this teaching, Melanchthon contin-
ued to hold Luther’s doctrine that fallen man is incapable of spiritually good works; this
doesn’t mean that the unconverted are incapable of noble motives—it means, rather, that
they are incapable of truly loving and trusting in God. The Luther an Scholastics who
followed Melanchthon’s teaching on the activity of the will followed their theological
master on these points.
55 Calvin’s theological determinism was different from Luther’s. Luther’s was primarily
anthropological, rooted in the fall; Calvin’s, on the other hand, was theological, rooted in
what he took to be the implications of God’s nature as ‘first cause’.
56 On this, see Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology; Volume II (Repr., Grand Rapids, 1993),
pp. 324–327.
57 Calov held that “without this [middle] knowledge it will be impossible to fittingly expli-
cate election based on foreseen faith” (Systema locorum theologicorum, II, p. 529). Appold
shows that Calov worked out a sophisticated doctrine of calling intended to combat the
236 Kronen
ways in which Suárez’s theology can be thought to have influenced Hollaz’s

doctrine of God.
As we have implicitly noted, Suárez may have influenced Hollaz in the use
of the viae of causality, eminence, and negation in forming a definition of God.
In Hollaz’s work, the proofs for God are folded into these ways, while his actual
definition of God is separated from a discussion of the viae by a lengthy treat-
ment of God’s Scriptural names. But, when he finally defines God, his defini-
tion is substantially the same as Suárez’s: “God is an independent spirit.”58
What is even more striking about Hollaz’s definition is that he follows Suárez
more closely here than Calov or Quenstedt do, despite the fact that they were
the first Lutherans to have been noticeably influenced by Suárez’s theology; in
definitions showing Scotus’s influence, they define God as an ‘Infinite Spirit’.59
Hollaz, after giving his definition, considers the reasons one might have for
preferring ‘infinite’ instead of ‘independent’ as the ‘quasi differentiating quid-
ditative concept of God’, arguing that, since God is simple, any definition we
make of God must arise from our way of knowing Him. And we know Him first
as the ultimate and uncaused cause, and from that are able to infer his other
attributes, including infinity.60 This is in perfect accord with Suárez’s thought.61
The second ‘Suarezian’ aspect of Hollaz’s doctrine of God is his adoption of
Suárez’s analogy of intrinsic attribution, saying it occurs “whenever plural
names are truly common, so that, nevertheless, one among those about which
they are said, participates in them62 through priority and independence, the
rest, however, through posteriority and on account of dependence.”63 Hollaz
gives a brief argument for the view that Christian theology must suppose that
terms that apply truly to both God and creatures apply by way of the analogy
of intrinsic attribution, following Suárez’s reasoning closely.
The third Suarezian aspect of Hollaz’s doctrine of God is his insistence
that, though none of God’s attributes are really distinct from His essence or his
other attributes, they are not merely “nominally distinct,” but “formally accord-
ing to our mode of conceiving, not without a certain foundation for the
Calvinist ‘absolute decree’ by teaching that the Word is intrinsically efficacious, naturally
blossoming into conversion unless resisted. See Abraham Calov’s Doctrine, chapter six.
58 eta, Pt. I, c. 1, q. 14, pp. 323–324. Hollaz immediately gives a fuller definition: “Deus est
essentia spiritualis independens trium personarum Patris, Fillii & Spiritus Sancti.”
59 See Schmidt, The Doctrinal Theology, pp. 112, 115.
60 eta, Pt. I, c. 1, q. 17, pp. 329–331.
61 dm 30.2.18-25 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, pp. 70–72).
62 I.e., in the attributes the names refer to.
63 eta, Pt. I, c. 1, q. 16, prob. b, p. 327. Cf., dm 29.3.16-17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, pp. 18–19).
distinction.”64 This is his way of asserting, as Suárez did, that the simplicity of
God does not prevent God from having a richness of aspects, nor does it pre-
vent us from truly predicating of God terms with different meanings. Also in
line with Suárez, Hollaz distinguishes between those perfections found in
creatures that do not intrinsically imply imperfection (‘wise, true, good’), and
those that do (‘to reason, to hear, to see’), holding that the former may be for-
mally predicated of God while the latter may be predicated of Him only
eminently.65
The final way in which Hollaz seems to have been influenced by Suárez
(probably via Calov) was in treating the transcendentals as they apply to God
before treating God’s other attributes. But Hollaz, although affirming the legiti-
macy of dividing the attributes into negative and positive (Suárez’s scheme),
does not actually use this division in his treatment of specific attributes, replac-
ing it instead with a division into ‘quiescent attributes’ and ‘operative attri-
butes’.66 The quiescent describe God’s essence as it is in itself, without
connoting any relation to creatures. These include all of the negative
attributes, the transcendentals, and beatitude and majesty. The operative attri-
butes, on the other hand, connote some possible relation to creatures, bearing
on God’s powers of exerting Himself ‘ad extra’ (for example, omniscience,
omnipotence, grace, etc.). Hollaz begins with the quiescent attributes, starting
with the transcendentals, and what he says about God’s goodness mirrors
Suárez.67
Before moving to Turretin’s doctrine of God, it is worthy of note that Hollaz
says something about the negative attributes that compliments what Suárez
said about the positive, namely, that though they formally “remove some
imperfection from God,” they materially “connote some positive perfection in
God.” Thus, “if I say, ‘God is immutable’, I deny indeed God to be subject to any
change, but I also connote something in His essence, such as a most constant
willing.”68
64 Ibid., q. 21, p. 333. By ‘formal distinction’ Hollaz means the Suarezian ‘conceptual distinc-
tion,’ not the Scotistic ‘formal distinction’.
65 Ibid., q. 19, obs. 4, p. 332.
66 Ibid., q. 22, p. 336. This division, made prominent by Quenstedt, became important for the
Lutherans because of certain aspects of their Christology.
67 Ibid., q. 26, pp. 346–347.
68 Ibid., q. 22, obs. 1, pp. 336–337. Hollaz’s point here is no doubt bound up with his vehe-
ment opposition to the Reformed understanding of the distinction between God’s
‘revealed will’ and His ‘secret will’, and so is tied to his support of gv.
238 Kronen
It seems clear that in his doctrine of God, Hollaz was as resolute in defend-
ing pt and gv as Suárez was, and that in defending them was happy to adopt
certain theological teachings of the Jesuit, all the more so because Calov
(whose reputation as an orthodox Lutheran was unquestionable) had already
done so, largely in order to make Lutheran doctrine consistent in a way strongly
opposed to the Reformed.
4.7 Turretin on the Divine Essence and Attributes

Turretin’s indebtedness to Suárez is more hidden than Hollaz’s, but if one
compares Turretin with certain early Reformed Scholastics, one will realize
how much closer he is to Suárez than they—indeed, one could argue that
Turretin’s theology embodies the most Suarezian doctrine of God possible for
a Calvinist.
After Calvin’s death, one sees a definite swing towards supralapsarianism
among the Reformed. This may have been due to the influence of Beza, Calvin’s
friend and colleague, whose speculative genius inclined him towards suprala-
psarianism, the view that predestination is above or prior to the fall. Or it may
have been due to a desire to combat Arminianism by insisting on a soteriology
as far removed from Arminianism as possible (within the basic parameters of
Reformed theology). Whatever the reason, supralapsarianism reached its
golden age during the first period of Reformed scholasticism, but was generally
abandoned by thinkers of the high period.69 The reasons are obvious: suprala-
psarianism tends towards nt, making meaningful theological discourse impos-
sible, and also entails an extreme form of sv that threatens to make God a
tyrant, something Calvin never intended.
These tendencies of supralapsarianism are evident in the theology of John
Maccovius, who spoke in such harsh terms about God’s eternal hatred of the
reprobate that he was chastised by the Synod of Dort. Maccovius rejected
Suárez’s doctrine of analogy in favour of the Thomist doctrine of proper pro-
portionality, according to which to say, for example, that ‘God is just’ is sim-
ply to say that He is just in a way that befits divine nature, just as Solomon
was just in a way that befits humans.70 This, of course, actually leaves us
69 Leibniz noted this shift in Meditations on, pp. 44–45. Heinrich Heppe, in his Reformed
Dogmatics, seems to attribute this shift, in part, to the thought of Gisbert Voet (1589–
1676). In light of this, it is worth noting that Voet was heavily influenced by Suárez. See
Aza Gourdriann, Reformed Orthodoxy and Philosophy, 1625–1750 (Leiden, 2006).
70 On this, see Richard Muller, Post Reformation Reformed Dogmatics; Vol. 3, The Divine
Essence and Attributes (Grand Rapids, 2003), pp. 109, 113.
unable to say anything meaningful about God’s justice, for example, to say
that ‘God would not damn the innocent’, for one could make such a claim
only if there were something about human and divine justice that is intrinsic
to both.
Maccovius’s rejection of Suárez’s doctrine of analogy goes along with an
interpretation of the divine simplicity that tends towards a nominalism that
does not allow for a richness in the divine. This can be seen if we compare the
responses of Maccovius and Hollaz to the Socinian objection that divine sim-
plicity entails that God cannot be both merciful and just. Maccovius answers
that such predicates as ‘merciful’ and ‘just’ denominate God with respect to
some of His effects.71 Hollaz, in contrast, insists that they refer to God’s essence,
and that God’s mercy could not have impelled Him to forgive sinners unless
His justice had been satisfied by Christ’s sacrifice.72
Hollaz’s answer to this Socinian objection is in accord with his rejection of
theological voluntarism (a rejection characteristic of Lutheran and Jesuit the-
ology), while Maccovius’s answer accords with the theological voluntarism
characteristic of supralapsarianism. His follower, Jan Szydlowski, pushed
Maccovius’s doctrine to the extreme,73 holding:
That to love God is by nature an indifferent thing, and is morally good

only, because it is commanded by God; that to prohibit the love of God,
or command the hatred of God, is not inconsistent with the nature of
God, but only with his free will; that it is not inconsistent with the natural
equity of God to command blasphemy, perjury, lying, etc. That God may
command what is contrary, as to all the precepts of the Decalogue, so
especially to the first, second, third; that holiness is not a conformity with
the nature of God; that God may oblige man to what is impossible; that
God hath no natural inclination to the good of the creatures; that God
can justly doom an innocent creature to eternal torment.74
71 Loci communes theologici, 1650, c. 15, n. 2, p. 122.

72 eta, Pt. 1, q. 43–44, pp. 379–386.
73 Maccovius himself was not quite as extreme a voluntarist as Szydlowski. See Goudriaan,
Reformed Orthodoxy, pp. 291–292.
74 Cited by Ralph Cudworth in A Treatise Concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality, ed.
Sarah Hutton (Cambridge, 1996), p. 15. Cf. Maccovius, Loci communes, c. 28, n. 2, p. 141,
which defends the following thesis: “Extendit se potestas ista Dei ad varia, et effecta
habet, aut habere potest, quae humana ratio, si fit absque verbo Dei, facile tanquam
injusta aspernetur.”
240 Kronen
This is sv with a vengeance; one cannot read this passage without being
reminded of Richard Price’s damning description of theologians who “make
the Deity nothing but will and…exalt this on the ruins of all his attributes.”75
If we turn from Maccovius to Turretin, we find Turretin endorsing (1)
Suárez’s theory of analogy76; (2) Suárez’s insistence that the simplicity of God
does not rule out a richness of aspects in the divine77; (3) a division of the
divine attributes that is only verbally different from Suárez’s78; and (4) Suárez’s
insistence that God’s actions are ruled by His essential righteousness, such that
His dominion over creatures cannot explain all of His dealings with them.79
The only ways in which Turretin does not follow Suárez as closely as Hollaz,
with respect to the present topic, is that Turretin not only does not subscribe to
Suárez’s definition of God, he does not give any definition at all. Furthermore,
he does not treat the transcendentals as applied to God before taking up other
attributes. I do not find these differences significant, however, because, in the
first place, no Christian theologian would hold that God can, properly speak-
ing, be defined, since God is ‘not in a genus’ (as both Suárez and Hollaz
insisted). Besides, Turretin’s acceptance of Suárez’s doctrine of intrinsic attri-
bution, along with the accompanying doctrine that one may apply to God
terms that differ in meaning, make me think he would not have objected to
Suárez’s definition.80 In the second place, Turretin makes the same points that
Suárez did about the transcendental unity as applied to God when discussing
God’s oneness as a sort of prologue to discussing His attributes. He also repro-
duces Suárez’s points about goodness as applied to God when discussing God’s
love, and finally, he makes Suárez’s points about truth as applied to God when
discussing the divine decrees taken as internal attributes of God.81
Granted that Turretin’s doctrine of God is far more in harmony with Suárez’s
than the early supralapsarian Calvinists, we need to say something about why
this occurred—indeed, why Turretin is typical of high Reformed Scholasticism.
75 A Review of the Principle Questions in Morals, in British Moralists: II, ed. D.D. Raphael
(Indianapolis, in, 1991), p. 158.
77 Ibid., q. 5, pp. 187–189.
78 Ibid., q. 6, pp. 189–191.
79 Ibid., q. 18, pp. 232–234.
80 The Reformed Scholastic Franz Burmann, Turretin’s younger contemporary, formulated a
definition of God combining Scotistic and Suarezian elements, holding that God “is most
simply defined as… infinite Spirit, having life from himself.” Quoted by Muller in Post
Reformation Reformed Dogmatics; Volume Three, p. 232.
81 ite, pp. 181–183, 241–244, 311–314.
Fortunately, Turretin himself provides the answer. When speaking of the

shift in Reformed theology away from the voluntarism of the supralapsarians,
he notes that such voluntarism made it difficult for the Reformed to argue
against the Socinian denial that vindicatory justice is an essential attribute of
God (we have noticed already problems with Maccovius’s response to the
Socinians on this point), thus making it difficult for them to argue for Christ’s
divinity based on the notion that God’s vindicatory justice was satisfied by the
Incarnation, life, and death of the Logos. Hence, Turretin says that the opinion
of those who suppose that God could not have remitted sins without Christ’s
satisfaction is to be preferred to those who hold the opposite opinion, since the
former view “is far more efficacious in the strangling of that most pestilent
heresy [the Socinian],” as well as “being more in accord with the nature of God
and the words of Scripture.”82 This evinces something often neglected, namely,
that the Socinian attack on the traditional doctrines held by the Reformed not
only spurred the second generation of Reformed theologians to embrace scho-
lasticism in full; it also spurred them to move away from Ockhamist elements
in the theology of Calvin, and towards embracing Suarezian doctrines support-
ive of pt and gv.
4.8 God’s Knowledge and Will in Relation to Predestination

We now come to those topics that are, perhaps, the most important, due to
their soteriological significance. It is with respect to these, moreover, that our
three theologians begin to diverge significantly.
All three developed sophisticated soteriologies, arguing for them with learn-
ing and skill. I cannot do justice to any of them here. All I can do is sketch the
central points of their theories, and note the ways in which they disagreed with
each other. It shall emerge that, with respect to soteriology, Suárez and Hollaz
were united on certain matters against Turretin, while on others Suárez and
Turretin were united against Hollaz.
Let us start with the points of agreement between Hollaz and Suárez. Both
agreed on the following:
1. God created out of benevolent love in order to share his happiness with
rational creatures, not in order to ‘create’ sinners whom He could use to
display the glory of His justice and mercy.83

83 De div. sub., III, c. 7, p. 88; eta, Pt. 1, c. 3, q. 14, pp. 524–525.
242 Kronen
2. God foresaw the fall of men but did not will it; He permitted it, at least in
part, because He could draw greater good from it.84
3. God created the first humans equipped with the virtues necessary to fulfil
His holy law if they willed, and, had they withstood the trial of time,
would have bestowed the beatific vision upon them.85
4. Humans have libertarian freedom (the ability to act or not act on a cer-
tain motive, all the requisites for acting having been posited), and God
concurs with their actions in such a way as to respect this.86
5. God eternally willed to save some fallen humans and to provide the
means necessary for this.87
6. Some humans will make good use of the means God provided, while oth-
ers will not; God knows this eternally and eternally wills to save the for-
mer and damn the latter.88
7. In electing and reprobating, God made use of middle knowledge (by
which he knows what every rational creature would freely will in any sit-
uation the creature might be ‘in’), otherwise He would have been the
cause of sin.89
Of these, Turretin agrees with points (1)-(3), (5), and (6). His agreement with (1)
and (2) are in line with his rejection of theological voluntarism and suprala-
psarianism. First, against supralapsarianism, he says the following:
The end on account of which God decreed to create man and to permit
his fall was not the manifestation of His justice and mercy in their salva-
tion and damnation from the decree of predestination…rather it was the
communication and (as it were) spreading out of the power, wisdom, and
goodness of the Creator, which shone forth both in the creation of man
and in his fall in different ways.90
84 De divina praedestinatione et reprobatione [hereafter dpr], I, c. 5, dico 1, p. 95, V, c. 3,

pp. 157–158; Hollaz, eta, Pt. 1, c. 6, q. 22–23, pp. 659–661.
85 Suárez, De opere sex dierum, III, c. 17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 447); eta, Pt. II, c. 1, q. 3, pp. 1–2.
86 Suárez, De gratia, proleg. primum, c. 3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 3, p. 757), dm 20. 2.25-45, ibid., 20.4.10-
26; eta, Pt. II, c. 5, q. 2, pp. 203–206, Pt. I, c. 6, q. 18, pp. 654–656.
87 dpr, I, c. 3, dico 3, p. 95; eta, Pt. III, sect. 1, c. 1 q. 4, pp. 2–3.
88 Ibid., I, c. 5, pp. 96–97; eta, Pt. III, sect. 1, c. 1, q. 5, pp. 3–8.
89 Suárez, De gratia, proleg. secundum, c. 5, 6, dico 1, p. 762; eta, Pt. 1, c. 1 q. 39, obs. 3, p. 366.
90 ite, fourth topic, q. 9, n. 22, p. 347.
Next, he goes on to say:
If God had predestined man to glory before the fall, it would have been a
work of immense goodness indeed, but could not be properly called
mercy (which regards not only the non-worthy, both the unworthy and
the one meriting the contrary). So if God had reprobated man free from
all sin, it would have been a work of absolute and autocratic power, not a
work of justice.91
In these passages we see that Turretin sincerely wised to maintain (1) and (2),
even though his theological determinism made it very difficult for him to do so
(and, in particular, made it difficult for him to make a clear distinction between
God’s permitting and His willing).92 Claims (3), (5) and (6) are, of course, char-
acteristic of ‘Augustinainism’, so nothing further needs to be said about
Turretin’s agreement with them.
This leaves (4) and (7). In disagreeing with (4), it must be stressed that
Turretin did not wish to deny creaturely freedom. For him, though, the sort of
freedom Suárez and Hollaz posit in the creature is impossible. Here Turretin,
like all Reformed theologians, followed the Thomists, holding that God’s nature
as first cause does not allow the creature to be the cause (in the libertarian
sense) of its good acts. Therefore, against (4), he claims that it cannot suffice
to save that [i.e., the creature’s] dependence that the will may be said to
be created and its liberty given by God, for it would not cease [in that
case] to be the principle of its own determination, if its acts did not
depend on some decree. It would not be indeed the first being, but yet it
would be the first operator (nor any more the second, but the first cause
because if it depended in being upon God, it would depend on him in
operation).93
Thus, the only sort of freedom Turretin allows the creature is a freedom of
‘spontaneity’, according to which the creature does a free act just in case it does
what it wants to and could have done otherwise had it wanted to, even if it
could not have wanted to do otherwise. Accordingly, Adam’s fall was necessary
91 Ibid., n. 19, p. 346.

92 Turretin was himself acutely aware of this, ultimately falling back into Luther’s ‘light of
glory’ solution. See ite, sixth topic, q. 6, n. 4, p. 512.
93 Ibid., third topic, q. 13, n. 11, p. 215.
244 Kronen
with respect to the first cause, but still contingent and free since God gave
Adam habitual grace “by which he had the strength sufficient to withstand if
he would,” even though God did not give that actual grace necessary for Adam’s
“actual perseverance” in the good.94
Turretin’s rejection of (7), other than that it implies that humans have real
libertarian freedom, was that (i) there are no possible truth-makers for God’s
middle knowledge,95 and (ii) positing middle knowledge is contrary to God’s
‘dominion’, since it supposes that God’s knowledge of what the creature would
freely do in any situation depends somehow on the creature, rather than upon
God.96 Thus, Turretin’s rejection of (4) and (7) are bound up with the ‘sv
aspects’ of Calvinism that he could not eliminate, in spite of being drawn to gv.
Having noted the ways in which Turretin disagreed with Suárez and Hollaz,
I wish to turn now to the ways in which he agreed with Suárez against Hollaz.
One can best explain this by noting an ambiguity in (6). One might accept it in
such a way as to hold that God elects certain humans because He foresees they
will accept grace, and reprobates others because He foresees they will not, or
one might accept it in such a way as to hold that God gives the necessary grace
to those whom He arbitrarily decided to elect, and fails to give it to those whom
He arbitrarily decided to reprobate. Hollaz agrees with (6) in the first sense,97
while Suárez and Turretin interpret it in the second.98 It is interesting to note,
moreover, that though neither Hollaz nor Turretin mentions Suárez in this
regard, both mention Bellarmine (whose doctrine, as a Congruist, was virtually
the same as Suárez’s on this matter)—Hollaz in order to condemn his teach-
ing,99 Turretin in order to agree with it on essentials.100
This is not to say that Suárez’s Congruism was the same as Turretin’s
Calvinism. Suárez held that humans have libertarian freedom and God gives
the reprobate truly sufficient grace, that is, grace that they might have accepted
had they chosen to, not simply grace that they might have accepted had they
wanted to.101 Hollaz is unimpressed with this position. For him, the doctrines
suffer from the same damning problem in the end, since Congruists, every bit
94 Ibid., ninth topic, q. 7, n. 7, p. 608.

95 Ibid., third topic, q. 13, n. 10, p. 214.
96 Ibid., n. 13, p. 215.
97 eta, Pt. III, sec. 1, c.1, q. 8, pp. 21–23.
98 dpr, II, c. 23–24, pp. 139–143, V, c. 5, p. 159, c. 8, dico 2, p. 162; ite, fourth topic, q. 11–12,
pp. 355–372, q. 14, pp. 380–390.
99 eta, Pt. III, sec. 1, c. 2, q. 12, pp. 105–108.
100 ite, fourth topic, q. 11, n. 5, pp. 355–356.
101 De gratia, 4.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 9, p. 868); ibid., 4.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 9, p. 873).
as much as Calvinists, teach that God, for no reason, decided, for example, to
elect Peter and reprobate Judas; hence, though God gave Judas sufficient grace,
He gave it at points in his life where He knew Judas would not accept it, and
though He could have given Judas grace at different points where he knew he
would, He chose not to because he just did not will to save Judas.
One might put the problem with Suárez’s doctrine in the following way.
Suppose there is a childless woman, let us call her Charity, who decides to
adopt two babies born to crack-addicted mothers, knowing that they will be far
more likely to become addicts than most children. Let us call these A and B.
Suppose that A and B do become addicted to crack, in spite of the fact that
Charity raised them well and is in no way responsible for their addiction, and
that Charity decides to pay for A and B to enter two different rehabilitation
programs, Q and R, both very expensive and boasting equally good success
rates. Suppose, finally, that Charity has done research on both programs and
concluded, from what she knows about her children, that both would be more
likely to break their addictions if they attended program Q rather than R, but
she sends A to Q and B to R because it ‘pleases her’ that A be cured and B not.
My own reaction to Charity is that she never really loved A or B, and adopted
them merely to give the impression of being a good woman (or maybe even to
convince herself she is one), and perhaps sent B to R because she wanted to be
praised all the more for having done a really good thing for that ‘ingrate B’, who
broke his mother’s heart twice, first by becoming and addict, and then by not
‘kicking the habit’, in spite of the fact that his poor mother sent him to the ‘very
expensive and famous program R’. My reaction to Suárez’s and Turretin’s ‘God’,
as he appears in their predestination doctrines, is not much different from my
reaction to ‘Charity’, save that Charity is human and therefore subject to cer-
tain weaknesses that one could forgive, whereas the same is not the case (pre-
sumably) with God.
In Suárez’s defence, it must be said that the ‘extreme Molinism’102 that
Hollaz accepted (at least insofar as one can abstract certain aspects of it from
the Catholic doctrine of justification) has a serious problem; one can ask the
Molinist: “why did God not give Judas the grace he foresaw Judas would need,
granted He could have, and He willed Judas’s salvation?” My own view is that,
unless one accepts universalism (as I do), the only way one can ultimately
defend pure Molinism is by adopting the highly implausible theory that some
creatures suffer from transworld damnation (i.e., they resolutely and freely
reject God in every possible world they are ‘in’). If this is correct, one could
102 On extreme Molinism vs. Congruism, see Joseph Pohle, Grace: Actual and Habitual
(St. Louis, mo, 1931), pp. 225–266.
246 Kronen
consequently argue that Suárez’s doctrine of predestination is the best option

that a sincere ‘hellist’, who is also a supporter of gv, could embrace.
5 Conclusion
Recalling an earlier promise concerning the bearing of this paper on the

nuances of the relation between Roman Catholic and catholic Protestant the-
ology, let us view that relation through the lens of the points made in the last
section, with respect to our theologians’ agreements and disagreements on
central soteriological doctrines. The Catholic Suárez and the Lutheran Hollaz
agree, against the Reformed Turettin, that humans have true libertarian free-
dom and that God gives all sinners truly sufficient grace; however, with respect
to a more central point (remember Charity), Suárez and Turretin are in agree-
ment, against Hollaz. The Catholic Molina, furthermore, agrees with the
Lutheran Hollaz, against both his fellow Jesuit Suárez and the Reformed
Turretin, that election is founded not on an absolute decree, but on God’s fore-
seeing how humans will respond to grace, while (a point not yet mentioned)
the Catholic Báñez sides with the Reformed Turretin against Hollaz, Suárez,
and Molina on all the points wherein Turretin disagrees with them!103 If one
considers the way agreements and disagreements crisscross the generic dis-
tinction between Catholic and Protestant, one begins to wonder whether
or not that distinction ever had any foundation in ‘the nature of things’, or
was a social construct founded on politics and tribal allegiances more than
anything else.
Of course, a defender of the distinction might point to a deeper point of
agreement between Catholics, namely, that all of them, in some way or another,
recognize human merit as playing a role in salvation, while all Protestants vig-
orously deny that human merit plays any role in salvation. But when one real-
izes that the catholic Protestants (including, rather inconsistently, the
Reformed) held that rational creatures are naturally ordered to union with
God, and that Adam’s co-created virtues were naturally due him,104 while clas-
sical Catholics theologians denied both claims, one begins to think that the
Protestants actually held that humans, at the deepest level of their being,
‘merit’ heaven in a way that no classical Catholic theologian maintained.105
103 See Pohle, Grace, pp. 232–248.

104 eta, pt. II, c. 1, q. 20; ite, fifth topic, q. 11.
105 Some scholars believe that Aquinas held that humans are naturally ordered to union with
God, and that the doctrine that they are not was a novelty introduced by Cajetan.
If all this is correct, it seems that if there is a real basis for the distinction
between Roman Catholic and catholic Protestants, it lies in their disagree-
ments over the nature of the Church and the authority of the Pope (Luther’s
vehement protests to the contrary notwithstanding). Of course, one might
wonder (I do, at least) whether or not the doctrine of the Church is as funda-
mental as the doctrine of God or of predestination, for it really does seem that
it should follow upon those doctrines, rather than the other way around. But
perhaps, it is one’s deep inclinations with respect to this very matter that dis-
tinguishes the Protestant from the Catholic ‘spirit’.
See Henri De Lubac, The Mystery of the Supernatural, trans. Rosemary Sheed (New York,
ny, 1967).
chapter 10
Suárez on Beings of Reason

Daniel Novotný
1 Introduction
Metaphysicians in the Aristotelian tradition have always taken their philo-

sophical point of departure from familiar things (res) around us, such as peo-
ple, animals, plants, and stones—real things that we can see and touch, hear,
smell, and taste. These are things or beings that are in various ways present and
active (actuales) in the world, though many of their facets lie hidden in their
potentiality as powers and dispositions, only to become actual in appropriate
circumstances (for Aristotelians, such hidden aspects of the things belong to
the domain of real being too). These things can be perceived by our senses, but
that is not it, they can also be thought about by our intellect. And in virtue of
their being thought-about by our intellects, they are said to receive intentional
or objective being (for an act of intellectual cognition in which a thing becomes
an object of the intellect is a paradigmatic case of in-tending, being directed
toward). Our acts of thinking usually deal with real things, whether in their
actual or potential mode, but sometimes we also think about that which is not
real. Things like square-circles or nothingness are not just possibly non-actual,
but necessarily so. It is impossible for them ever to become actualized in real-
ity, and still we can and perhaps even must think about them. They are impos-
sible intentional beings.
During the Middle Ages and in Renaissance and Baroque times, Aristotelian
metaphysicians became increasingly interested in the impossible intentional
things, or ‘beings of reason’ (entia rationis) as they were called. Suárez, the
Father of Baroque philosophy, devoted his last Disputation 54 to them, a dispu-
tation that has attracted a fair amount of recent scholarly attention. The aim
of this chapter is to provide the reader with an overview of the content and
structure of this disputation, along with some basic guidance for reading it.1
1 At this occasion, my aim is not to engage in polemics on subtle points of interpretation but
only to provide a guide for reading Disputation 54, fortunately available in English (John
P. Doyle, On Beings of Reason: Metaphysical Disputation liv [Milwaukee, 1995]). In general,
I can say that I broadly agree with the stardard account of Disputation 54 as it is expressed in
the work of various scholars, such as John P. Doyle, “Suárez on Beings of Reason and
Truth (First part),” Vivarium 25 (1987): 47–75; idem, “Suárez on Beings of Reason and Truth

Suárez On Beings Of Reason 249
The chapter follows Suárez’s own structure embodied in Disputation 54, as far
as convenient. Suárez’s sense for systematicity and synoptic vision is one his
greatest intellectual virtues, and by following the original structure I hope to
convey at least some of its beauty.
My text is divided into four sections, dealing with Suárez’s views on (A) the
nature and existence of beings of reason, (B) their causes, (C) their division,
and finally providing (D) a brief evaluation of his theory. Disputation 54 itself
is divided by Suárez into six sections, the first two dealing with the nature and
causes of beings of reason, respectively, and the remaining four dealing with
their division. Suárez’s discussion of the division of beings of reason concerns
the exclusivity of their traditional division (section 3), the exhaustivity of it
(section 4), and then their particular genera, namely, privations/negations
(section 5) and relations of reason (section 6). For a descriptive overview of the
content of Disputation 54, see the Appendix.2
Before we address Suárez’s theory of beings of reason, let me say a few words
about his metatheory, which is briefly discussed in the Introduction to
Disputation 54. The metatheory is concerned with the place of the theory of
beings of reason within metaphysics. At first sight it would seem that a treatise
on metaphysics, such as Disputationes metaphysicae, should not contain a
theory of beings of reason, for in Suárez’s view, metaphysics is the science
about beings insofar as they are real, and beings of reason are non-real3;
they are mere ‘shadows of beings’ (umbrae entium), as Suárez metaphorically
(Second part),” Vivarium 26 (1988): 51–72; Jorge J.E. Gracia, “Suárez’s Conception of Metaphysics:
A Step in the Direction of Mentalism?,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 65 (1991):
287–309; Antonio Millán-Puelles, The Theory of the Pure Object (Heidelberg, 1996); and Bernardo
Canteñs, “Suárez on Beings of Reason: What Kind of Being (entia) are Beings of Reason, and
What Kind of Being (esse) Do they Have?,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 77 (2003):
171–187. I stay unpersuaded by the recent, well-articulated and challenging ‘tethered counter-
factual interpretation’ of Suárez’s Disputation 54 proposed by Christopher Shields (“Shadows of
Being: Francisco Suárez’s Entia Rationis,” in The Philosophy of Francisco Suárez, ed. Benjamin
Hill and Henrik Lagerlund [Oxford, 2012], pp. 57–74).
2 The chapter draws on the results of the first part of my book, Ens rationis between Suárez and
Caramuel: A Study in Scholasticism of the Baroque Era (Bronx, NY, 2013). The book contains
detailed analyses and justifications of the interpretative claims that I make here, and specifies
the particular points on which I agree or disagree with the relevant secondary literature.
3 For an instructive controversy over this point in recent scholarship, see: Jorge J.E. Gracia,
“Suárez’s Conception of Metaphysics: A Step in the direction of Mentalism?” American
Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 65 (1991): 287–230; Norman J. Wells, “Esse cognitum and
Suárez Revisited,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 67 (1993): 339–348; Jorge J.E.
Gracia, “Suárez and Metaphysical Mentalism: The Last Visit,” American Catholic Philosophical
Quarterly 67 (1993): 349–354.
250 Novotný
puts it.4 Nevertheless, even though beings of reason are not the proper (adae-
quatus) object of metaphysics, they do have some place in it. Metaphysicians
cannot entirely exclude beings of reason from their considerations, and hence
they should propose a general theory of them in order to make their meta-
physical doctrine complete. Moreover, beings of reason are indispensable for
other sciences as well, and no other science than metaphysics can carry on the
task of dealing with beings of reason in general. Specifically, the job of formu-
lating a general theory of beings of reason cannot be left to dialectics-logic, for
this discipline has a limited domain of competency and focuses on some kinds
of beings of reason only.5 This raises a question, namely, what are the needed
elements of a general theory of beings of reason? As we already know, it needs
to deal with the nature, existence, causes, and division of beings of reason. But
Suárez goes even further and suggests that just as metaphysicians come up
with transcendentals as the properties (proprietates) of real beings, so they
should come up with quasi-transcendentals as the properties of beings of rea-
son.6 Unfortunately, in Disputation 54 this interesting suggestion is neither
effected nor mentioned again.
2 Nature and Existence of Beings of Reason
Suárez deals with the nature and existence of beings of reason in section 1,
titled “Whether there are beings of reason and what essence they could have.”
Suárez first presents arguments for the view that there are no beings of reason,
then for the view that beings of reason are real beings, and finally he defends
his own middle course, the ‘true’ view, according to which there are beings of
reason (against the first view), but they do not exist in the same sense as ordi-
nary real beings (against the second view). Rather, they exist in the sui generis
sense of ‘merely objective being’. Schematically, we may represent the basic
structure of section 1 as follows:
The First View: The True View: The Second View:
(~a) There are no beings (a) There are beings of

of reason. reason ...
(b) ... but in a peculiar (~b) There are beings of
sense of ‘merely reason in the same sense
objective being.’ as other real beings.
4 dm 54.Prol.1.
5 Ibid., 54.Prol.1-2, see also ibid., 1.1.6.
6 Ibid., 54.Prol.2.
Suárez’s defence of the true view is based on his discussion of the nature of
beings of reason—that is, of what they are—and it proceeds in three phases:
first, he clarifies the meanings of the term ‘beings of reason’, then he provides
their real definition, and finally he suggests that we speak of beings of reason
in a non-usual sense of ‘being’. Apart from defending the sui generis existence
of beings of reason,7 Suárez discusses the occasions (occasio) on which our
intellect makes them up, and the sense of proportional analogy in which they
are appropriately called ‘beings’. As we can see, section 1 is dense, dealing with
several inter-dependent aspects of our subject matter. Let us first discuss the
two false views, then the true view, and finally the remaining issues, that is,
occasion and analogy.
2.1 False Views: Eliminativism and Ultrarealism

The first false view, which might be called eliminativism, holds that there are
no beings of reason. The second false view, which might be called ultrarealism,
holds that there are beings of reason in the same sense as other real beings.
Before taking up these theories, Suárez makes a surprising metatheoretical
observation:
Not even this issue lacks contrary views at the opposite extremes, at least
in words. For if the authors of these words are more closely examined,
perhaps they are arguing only about words.8
Why does Suárez say this and what does he mean by it? A possible explana-
tion might be that eliminativism and ultrarealism share the assumption
that every being is a real being (and vice versa). The eliminativists then
argue that since there are only real beings there are no beings of reason,
whereas the ultrarealists hold that some of the real beings are beings of
reason. Suárez probably thought that given his distinction between the
senses of ‘being’, one could explain the disagreement away by pointing out
that the eliminativists and the ultrarealists speak of beings of reason in
different senses. At any rate, regardless of whether this interpretative
7 For semantic reasons, Suárez does not want to apply the word ‘existence’ to beings of reason.
The word for him retains the force of a present participle and hence is applicable only to
presently actual beings (see dm 2.4). For the sake of convenience, I shall adopt a different
usage and speak freely of the existence of beings of reason in the existentially-neutral sense
of ‘there is’, which is equivalent to Suárez’s ‘to be given’ (dari).
8 dm 54.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 1015): “Non desunt etiam in hac re sententiae extreme contrar-
iae, saltem in vocibus; nam si auctores earum pressius examinentur, fortasse solum de voci-
bus contendunt.”
252 Novotný
hypothesis holds true, the distinction between the real and non-real
(‘merely objective’) sense of ‘being’ lies at the heart of Suárez’s approach to
beings of reason.9 He appears to believe that nobody could seriously deny
the existence of beings of reason when confronted with the clarification of
the two senses of being.
Let us now take a brief look at eliminativism, the first false view. In Suárez’s
words, the eliminativists are “certain people [who] simply deny that there are
beings of reason, [maintaining] instead that all that is said of them can very
well be understood of [real] things themselves and ‘preserved’ in them.”10
Suárez lists three arguments in favour of eliminativism:
(Ar1) Beings of reason have either “being (esse) in reason as in a subject” or

“being made by reason.” But both are kinds of real being. Thus, there are
no true beings of reason.
(Ar2) Beings of reason are “that which is made up by reason.” But what is
made up does not exist. Thus, it is a contradiction to say that beings of
reason exist.
(Ar3) Beings of reason are unnecessary.11
In light of what Suárez says on the various senses of ‘being of reason’ (more on
this below in A.2), it is easy to find replies to (Ar1) and (Ar2). In answer to (Ar1),
Suárez would accept the second premise but deny that the first premise
exhausts the possibilities—besides the two kinds of real being listed, there is
also non-real being, i.e., being of reason. In answer to (Ar2), Suárez would dis-
tinguish the two senses of the second premise. It is true that what is made up
does not exist in a real sense, but it does exist in another, analogical sense. If we
keep in mind that ‘exist’ or ‘is’ is used in different senses, no contradiction
arises. Concerning (Ar3), see A.3 below.
Suárez divides ultrarealism, the second false view, according to three differ-
ent versions:
9 For more on ‘merely objective’, see below. The word ‘real’ is used by Suárez in more than
one sense. In its broadest sense, ‘real’ seems to mean anything independent of human
mental activity, and in this sense even some negative and extrinsic properties may be real.
In a narrower sense, ‘real’ means something actualizable, and in this sense even possible
beings are real. In the narrowest sense, only actual beings are real. Suárez’s main discus-
sion of what is real can be found in the context of his explanation of what a real essence
is in dm 2.4.3-7.
10 dm 54.1.2.
11 Ibid., 54.1.2.
(V1) Beings of reason and real beings are subsumed under the common
appellation ‘being’ through a single signification or even conception.
(V2) Some (though not all) beings of reason, namely relations, share a
univocal likeness with real beings.
(V3) Beings of reason (like real beings) have an entity independent of our
acts of knowing.
The first view (V1) does not seem to play any role in Suárez’s later discussions,
and the brevity of its description militates against the need to engage it any
further. The second view (V2) is discussed and rejected by Suárez in Disputation
47. Proponents of (V2) claim that relation is such an extraordinary category
that it is divided into real and non-real genera, namely, real relations and rela-
tions of reason. Suárez objects that there cannot be any such category, for the
difference between real beings and beings of reason is so great that it is even
greater than the difference between living and dead people.12 The third view
(V3) is suggested by some of those who reduce beings of reason to extrinsic
denominations. For if beings of reason are extrinsic denominations, and these
are mind-independent, then ipso facto beings of reason are mind-independent.
Suárez rejects the antecedent. In his view, to be an extrinsic denomination is
not sufficient for something to be a being of reason. For more on extrinsic
denominations, see below (B.2).13
2.2 The True View: Objectualism

After the explanation and brief criticism of the opposing false views, Suárez
presents his own true view, which I call objectualism since it takes beings of
reason as pure objects of our intellect. Objectualism is summed up by Suárez
as the conjunction of the negations of the false views:
(a) There are beings of reason, but in a peculiar sense of being of ‘merely
objective beings’, not in the sense of beings ‘capable of true and real exis-
tence’.
(b) Beings of reason are called ‘beings’, but they do not share any similarity
with real beings; nevertheless, there is a kind of analogy—namely, of pro-
portionality—between beings of reason and real beings.14
12 Ibid., 47.3.2-3, see also ibid., 47.3.4-5.

13 Ibid., 54.1.3, ibid., 54.2.
14 Ibid., 54.1.4.
254 Novotný
Suárez’s defence of the true view proceeds via the clarification of what beings
of reason are, namely, by distinguishing three different kinds of relations (hab-
itudines) that a being (ens) has to reason-intellect (ratio). First, a being is effec-
tively related to an intellect in the case that it is an effect of it. This happens
when, for instance, an artefact is produced according to a plan. Obviously, such
a being is a real being. Second, a being is subjectively related to an intellect in
the case that it inheres in the intellect as an accident in its subject. This hap-
pens when, for instance, grammatical knowledge inheres in one’s intellect.
Within the scholastic ontological framework presupposed here, such gram-
matical knowledge is considered a real being as well, namely a quality. Third, a
being is objectively related to an intellect in the case that the intellect thinks of
the being. Suárez says of such a being that it is ‘in the reason by way of being an
object’, but he also uses phrases such as ‘the being has an objective being in the
intellect’. The underlying idea is that for the intellect to know or think of a
being, the being must somehow be ‘in’ it. The being, however, cannot be physi-
cally in the intellect, and must be there only ‘objectively’ (intentionally).15
Now, there are two further ways in which something can be objectively in the
intellect.16 First, this can occur when the given being has both real being in
itself and being as an object of the intellect. Take, for instance, the situation in
which Peter knows Paul. Paul is a real individual and hence he has real being in
himself, and at the same time he has also being as an object of Peter’s intellect.
Second, this includes the case in which a given being is an object of the intel-
lect and has ‘no other being’. Take, for instance, the situation in which Peter
knows (=thinks of ) a chimera. The chimera has no being apart from Peter’s
intellect. It is only in this latter situation, when the given being has no being in
itself, that we speak of beings of reason in the proper sense, as intended by
Suárez and his scholastic colleagues. From this clarification of the term, Suárez
jumps to the definition(s) of beings of reason:
[I]t is only in the latter sense [i.e., something is an object of reason with-
out having in itself any other being] that we most appropriately speak of
beings of reason.… Therefore, what is commonly and rightly defined as a
being of reason is that which has only objective being in an intellect, or,
it is that which is thought of by a reason as a being, even though it has no
entity [being] in itself.17
15 Ibid., 54.1.5.
16 Ibid., 54.1.6.
17 Ibid., 54.1.6 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 1016): “[E]t hoc propriissime vocatur ens rationis.… Et
ideo recte definiri solet, ens rationis esse illud, quod habet esse objective tantum in
Suárez does not consider any other definitions. He seems to adopt a formula-
tion that was universally held in his times.18
Now that Suárez has come up with the definition of beings of reason, what
can be said in favour of their existence? One may distinguish between two
arguments in Suárez. The first argument is ‘from experience’. Suárez believes
that once he has clarified what ‘being of reason’ means, the existence of beings
of reason becomes obvious in the common experience of thinking about
blindness, chimeras, etc.19 The second argument for the existence of beings of
reason might be called ‘ontological’: beings of reason are by definition entities
that exist as objects of our thought. Hence, their essence includes their being-
thought-of or existence-in-thought. Suppose one claims that beings of reason
do not exist. One either knows what he is talking about, or not. If one does not,
then his claim is beside the point. If one does, however, know what he is talk-
ing about, then he is claiming that the entities that he thinks about do not exist
in the relevant sense, i.e., they do not exist-in-thought. This, nevertheless, is a
self-contradiction, therefore beings of reason must exist.20
2.3 Remaining Issues: Occasion and Analogy

In the remainder of section 1, Suárez deals with two more elements of his true
view. The first concerns ‘occasions’ for making up beings of reason. Suárez dis-
tinguishes three such occasions:
(O1) To ‘fill up’ non-being: in reality there are no negations-privations,

such as blindnesses or malfunctions, they are simply nothing; but of
course, we still need to take these into account; however, since our intel-
lect cannot take them as nothing, it needs to take them as something; and
hence it makes up negative beings of reason (as a kind of ‘proxy-object’).
The emergence of such negative beings of reason is both necessary and
useful.21
intellectu, seu esse id, quod a ratione cogitatur ut ens, cum tamen in se entitatem non
habeat.”
18 Note that Suárez’s definition contains in fact two definitions, namely, (DF1) a being of
reason has only objective being in the intellect, and (DF2) a being of reason is thought of
as a being, even though it has no being in itself. Suárez assumes that these two definitions
are equivalent, co-extensional, though in my view they are not. See my Ens rationis
between Suárez and Caramuel: A Study in Scholasticism of the Baroque Era (ny, ny, 2013).
19 dm 54.1.7.
20 dm 54.1.7.
21 Suárez seems to change his mind on this point when he assumes in sections 3–5 that our
intellect can also conceive non-beings in the manner of non-beings, see below C.3.
256 Novotný
(O2) To compare non-related beings: we sometimes do not know a thing as

it is in itself, but only as it is compared to other things; hence, we make up
relations of reason. What does this mean? Suárez does not say explicitly,
but he may have the following in mind: Suppose you mention Peter as your
friend to me. I have never met Peter and I know nothing about him except
that that he is a human being. However, by knowing that he is a human
being, I know Peter ‘comparatively,’ for I compare Peter to other human
beings that I know individually. Hence, my thinking about Peter-qua-
human-being is thinking about a being of reason. The emergence of such
relative beings of reason is also both necessary and useful.
(O3) To ‘contrive’ impossible fictions: our intellect is capable of joining
together what cannot be joined in reality, such as square-circle or lion-
snake-goat; hence, we also make up self-contradictory beings of reason.
The emergence of this type of being of reason is not necessary, and Suárez
does not consider whether they are useful (for instance, in indirect
argumentation).22
The second remaining element of the true view concerns the sense in which
beings of reason are said to be ‘beings’,23 for beings of reason and real beings are
not called ‘beings’ just by chance. Since, however, there is no univocal concept
‘covering’ both beings of reason and real beings, how are they related? Suárez
replies that they are related through an analogy of proportionality. Suárez explains
this kind of analogy in Disputation 28, expanding on it with the help of the smil-
ing meadow example. Since a meadow is to green as a man is to smiling (both
proportions indicate a sort of well-being), we have a sufficient ground for the ana-
logical sense with which we can predicate smiling of a meadow.24 Schematically:
smiling green smiling

proportion Q
proportion P
≈ similarity =
man meadow meadow
22 dm 54.1.8.
23 Ibid., 54.1.9-10.
24 Ibid., 28.3.4. The passage is rather obscure.
Similarly, since a real being is to exists as an object of reason is to being thought

about, we can predicate exists of an object of reason (and consequently call the
latter ‘beings of reason’):
exists is thought about exists

proportion R
proportion S
≈ similarity =
real being object of reason object of reason
This solution assumes that for beings of reason, exists involves being thought
about. It is natural then to propose the view that to be a being of reason is noth-
ing but an extrinsic denomination (‘To be is just to be thought about’). The
next section explores the causes of beings of reason and deals extensively with
this suggestion. But before we enter this topic, let me mention one important
objection that Suárez raises against his view: if beings of reason are nothing as
such, purely made up, then there is nothing that can be in them. Hence (unlike
meadows), they themselves cannot provide any ground for an analogy of pro-
portionality. Suárez replies: although beings of reason do not have any ground
or foundation of the proportion in themselves, they are still thought to have a
foundation, and for the analogy of proportionality this is enough.25
3 Causes of Beings of Reason
The question of the causes of beings of reason is taken up in section 2 of

Suárez’s Disputation 54, entitled “Whether a being of reason has a cause and
what it is.” Suárez first argues that beings of reason have an efficient cause only.
Second, he argues that their efficient cause is the intellect. Third, he specifies
the kind of mental act that makes up beings of reason, and fourth, he excludes
other mental faculties from causing them (though he hesitates with respect to
the imagination). Schematically, we may represent Suárez’s basic argumenta-
tive strategy in section 2 as follows:
25 Ibid., 54.1.10.
258 Novotný
The First View: The True View: The Second View:
(~a) Beings of reason (a) Beings of reason (~b) Every extrinsic

have no efficient have an efficient cause denomination causes
cause. only; beings of reason.
(b) their cause is the
intellect only (plus
imagination);
(c) it is only the
intellect’s reflexive act
that causes them.
The Third View:
(~c) Every extrinsic

denomination from the
intellect causes beings of
reason.
Toward the end of section 2, Suárez takes up the question of whether and in
which sense God and angels know or make up beings of reason. The structure
of this section is again rather complex (see the Appendix), and an extensive
discussion of extrinsic denominations is embedded in it.
3.1 Beings of Reason Have an Efficient Cause Only

Suárez first devotes a brief paragraph to denying the (proper) final, formal, and
material causes of beings of reason.26 He then goes on to argue that beings of
reason do have an efficient cause, though. His argument starts with a (re-)
interpretation of Soncinas, an author who denied the need to postulate an effi-
cient cause of beings of reason. In Suárez’s view, Soncinas meant to deny the
existence of an efficient cause of beings of reason only in the sense of “some-
thing giving them real existence.”27 Suárez, of course, agrees with the so-
interpreted denial: there is no efficient cause of the real being of beings of rea-
son because they have no such being. However, this does not mean that there
is no efficient cause of their sui generis (objective) being.28
26 Ibid., 54.2.1. Suárez’s denial, however, is rather unclear, for he does acknowledge that
beings of reason may be said to have these types of causes in some sense.
27 Ibid., 54.2.2.
28 Ibid., 54.2.2.
Suárez’s positive argument in favour of an efficient cause of beings of reason

rests on the principle of sufficient reason. Since beings of reason have objec-
tive being in the intellect and they do not have it always but only, let us say,
during the time interval t1 to t2, there must be a sufficient reason that would
explain this fact. Hence, there is an efficient cause for beings of reason. But this
cannot be an ‘ordinary’ efficient cause, for beings of reason would then be real
beings. Therefore, it must be something that works only indirectly.29
3.2 The Intellect as an Efficient Cause of Beings of Reason

Given that beings of reason have an efficient cause, it remains to ask: what is
it? To Suárez, it appears obvious that the best candidate for this post is the
human intellect.30 This conclusion is only challenged by the view that in order
for something to be a being of reason, it is sufficient for it to be an extrinsic
denomination.31 Suárez distinguishes two basic versions of this view. According
to one (henceforth the general extrinsic denomination view), any extrinsic
denomination is sufficient, whereas according to the other (henceforth the
restricted extrinsic denomination view), only extrinsic denominations from
the intellect, such as ‘being thought about’, will do. Suárez argues against both
these views: for the emergence of beings of reason, extrinsic denominations
are necessary but insufficient.
Suárez’s argumentation against the general extrinsic denomination view is
indirect. He draws three unacceptable consequences from it. If this view were
true then:
(1) God would make up beings of reason.32

(2) Not only the intellect, but also other mental faculties, such as the will,
would be capable of causing beings of reason (in which case we should
have many more terms besides ‘being of reason’, such as ‘beings of will’,
‘beings of sight’, ‘beings of imagination’, etc.).33
(3) Even predicates, such as being to the left or being clothed would be beings
of reason.34
29 Ibid., 54.2.3.
30 Ibid., 54.2.4.
31 Extrinsic denominations are predicates that express the properties something has in vir-
tue of something else being related to it.
32 dm 54.2.7.
33 Ibid., 54.2.8.
34 Ibid., 54.2.9.
260 Novotný
Suárez takes these three consequences to constitute a clear refutation of the

general extrinsic denomination view, for all these consequences flout univer-
sally held scholastic convictions.35
One might object, however, that the process of denomination involves an
act of the intellect, and hence there must be some being of reason involved.
Suárez’s reply involves a distinction between (a) the mental (linguistic) act of
imposing the denominating name, and (b) the expressed form or thing taken
in itself. If one wishes to argue that extrinsic denominations are beings of rea-
son because they involve a mental act of denominating, then all denomina-
tions, even intrinsic ones, would have to be beings of reason. But this is absurd.
Hence, the extrinsic things (forms) expressed by the terms of extrinsic denom-
inations are real, even though in order to express them we need thought and
language.36
The general extrinsic denomination view may be revised in such a way
as to avoid some of its undesirable consequences. With the resulting
restricted extrinsic denomination view, one could hold that only extrinsic
denominations derived from acts of the intellect are sufficient for the
emergence of beings of reason. Suárez rejects this restricted view as well,
for in his view the acts of the intellect toward something are just as real as
other relations.37
The restricted extrinsic denomination view might be further defended by
claiming that denominations from acts of the intellect differ from other
denominations in that (a) things so denominated exist only objectively in the
intellect, and (b) things-as-so-denominated are dependent on the actual opera-
tions of the intellect. Since, as we saw above, beings of reason are something
objectively dependent on the intellect, it would consequently seem that for the
emergence of beings of reason, extrinsic denominations from the intellect are
sufficient.38
Suárez has two things to say in reply. First, he points out that the proponents
of this line of defence of the restricted extrinsic denomination view would
need to extend the normal meaning of ‘being of reason’ to include other beings
that are merely objectively in some mental faculty and dependent on its actual
operation, such as beings of the external senses, of the internal senses, of the
35 Ibid., 54.2.10.
36 Ibid., 54.2.10.
37 Ibid., 54.2.11. Needless to say, the fact that extrinsic denominations from the intellect are
not sufficient conditions for the emergence of beings of reason does not mean that they
are not necessary.
38 Ibid., 54.2.12.
will, etc. This move is unacceptable, however, because it involves too drastic of
a revision of the traditional scholastic philosophical framework.39
Second, Suárez argues that the restricted extrinsic denomination view con-
fuses two meanings of ‘being known’.40 Suppose Peter is thinking of (=knows)
Paul. Hence, Paul is the object of Peter’s thinking, that is to say, he is objectively
in Peter’s intellect.41 This is the objective sense in which Paul is being known.
There is, however, yet another meaning of ‘being known’, which refers not to
Paul but to the whole fact of Paul’s-being-known-by-Peter. This is the formal
sense in which Peter is being known. This fact is not the normal object of
Peter’s thinking. Normally (in our direct cognition), Peter is thinking of Paul
and not of Paul-as-I-Peter-am-thinking-of-him, although it is possible for Peter
to change the object of his thinking from Paul to my-thinking-of-Paul (i.e.,
Peter’s-thinking-of-Paul), which is what happens in reflexive cognition.
Nevertheless, regardless of whether we take ‘being known’ in the former or the
latter sense, being known is insufficient to account for the emergence of a
being of reason. In both cases, the object of Peter’s thinking has not just objec-
tive but also real being, and thus is not a being of reason.42
In sum, Suárez’s claim is that when the intellect simply knows a real object,
there is nothing fictitious about the object being known by it: the object, the
form of being known, and their extrinsic union are all real. Hence, the extrinsic
form is also real.43 The intellect is therefore left as the only candidate for the
post of the creator of beings of reason, though it does not create them when-
ever it gets down to work.
3.3 Beings of Reason Are Caused by Special Mental Acts

If extrinsic denominations from the intellect taken as such are not sufficient
for the emergence of beings of reason, what needs to be added to the acts of
the intellect to make them causes of beings of reason? Suárez’s first thesis is
that we need a kind of act of the intellect that can conceive something that
has no being in the manner of a being. He offers three (rather trivial) reasons
for this claim: (1) it follows from the definition of beings of reason given
above; (2) no other explanation is available if the extrinsic denomination
view fails; (3) one and the same negative state of affairs (e.g., Homer’s
39 Ibid., 54.2.12.
40 Ibid., 54.2.13.
41 That is, insofar as he is known by Peter, for Peter does not know everything about Paul and
so only a partial aspect of Paul is known by Peter.
42 dm 54.2.13.
43 Ibid., 54.2.14.
262 Novotný
not-having-sight) can be viewed in two ways, namely, ‘in the manner of a

non-being’ or ‘in the manner of a being’. It is only in the latter case that a
being of reason emerges.44
As it is possible to conceive the negative state of affairs in two ways, so
is it possible to conceive the situation of extrinsic denomination in two
ways: either as believed to be intrinsic to the denominated thing, or as
such, that is, extrinsic to the denominated thing.45 According to Suárez, in
the latter case we know the given extrinsic denomination directly, whereas
in the former, it is known reflexively. Beings of reason, furthermore, emerge
only in this former case.46 This amounts to Suárez’s second thesis, namely,
that the act of the intellect needed for the emergence of beings of reason
has to be reflexive. By ‘reflexive’, Suárez means the following: if I want to
conceive blindness, I first need to know what sight is; in other words, if
I want to make up beings of reason, i.e., non-real entities, I first need to
know real entities.47
3.4 The Intellect as the Only Efficient Cause of Beings of Reason

From what has been said above, namely, that beings of reason are conceived as
beings though they are non-beings, Suárez infers that neither the senses nor
the will are capable of producing them.48 And if someone argues that the will
is capable of tending toward an apparent good and hence it is capable of pro-
ducing some non-real beings of the will, Suárez replies that a non-real good is
an object contrived by the intellect, not the will. In other words, the will only
‘adds’ apparent goodness to a pre-fabricated being of reason produced by the
intellect.49
Moving from the will to the senses, Suárez hesitates on what to think of the
imagination (one of the internal senses). It seems that the imagination, by
joining together sensual appearances, is able to make up not only possible
non-existing entities (e.g., a golden mountain), but also impossible entities
(e.g., a chimera), i.e., beings of reason. Hence, is not only the intellect but also
the imagination capable of making up beings of reason? Suárez first seems to
answer ‘yes’, but then immediately afterwards he reasserts the claim that the
imagination as such is not capable of producing beings of reason; rather, it
44 Ibid., 54.2.15.
45 Ibid., 54.2.15.
46 Ibid., 54.2.16.
47 Ibid., 54.2.16.
48 Ibid., 54.2.17.
49 Ibid., 54.2.17.
needs to work in tandem with the intellect.50 It seems that Suárez remains
undecided as to what to hold on this point.51
3.5 Beings of Reason and God

Suárez then brings up a final question, namely, does God know beings of rea-
son? On the one hand, it would seem that He does, for He is omniscient.52 On
the other hand, though, this would seem to imply his imperfection, which is for
theists such as Suárez quite unacceptable. One could defend the claim that
God knows-makes up beings of reason by pointing out that the imperfection
involved in knowing beings of reason lies on the side of the object (i.e., a given
being of reason) and not on the side of the knower (i.e., God).53 But Suárez
disagrees with this argument. It is not a mere imperfection of the object to
think of an object in a manner that differs from the way it is: it is also an imper-
fection of the knower.54 According to Suárez, (real) things never force the (per-
fect) intellect to make up beings of reason, i.e., to know something otherwise
than it is in itself. This pertains both to relations of reason and to negations.55
Hence, God can know everything, without having to make up beings of reason.
God knows each thing by knowing ‘what it is’ and ‘what it is not’. Thus, he does
not need to create ‘proxy’ objects (i.e., beings of reason) in order to know
something else (non-beings or beings that we know only comparatively).56
There is one more interesting issue lurking behind the corner. Although
God does not make up beings of reason ‘for His own sake’, He still needs to
know beings of reason as they are made by us.57 But then, if these beings-
made-up-by-us are known by God’s intellect, do they not also have to receive
some being from His intellect?58 Suárez accepts this inference, and even makes
the further point that in virtue of God’s intellect these human-made beings of
reason receive (divine) actual being.59 This identification of something purely
50 Ibid., 54.2.18.
51 A possible explanation could lie in the Renaissance Thomistic doctrine of ‘physical pro-
motion’: the intellect empowers the imagination to do things that are ordinarily beyond
its capabilities. See (in a different context), David Peroutka, “Imagination, Intellect and
Premotion,” Studia Neoaristotelica 7 (2010): 107–114.
52 dm 54.2.19.
53 Ibid., 54.2.19.
54 Ibid., 54.2.21.
55 Ibid., 54.2.22.
56 Ibid., 54.2.22.
57 Ibid., 54.2.23.
58 Ibid., 54.2.23.
59 Ibid., 54.2.24.
264 Novotný
non-real with divine actuality seems to be a step of great significance, deserv-

ing further systematic investigation. Suárez, however, leaves the issue at this
point, and so do we.60
4 Division of Beings of Reason
Suárez’s discussion of the division of beings of reason occupies the largest bulk
of Disputation 54. At the time, the standard scholastic doctrine said that they
are divided into three highest genera, namely, negations, privations, and rela-
tions.61 Suárez, however, has various doubts concerning this standard division.
Is it mutually exclusive (correct)? Is it exhaustive (sufficient)? In section 3
Suárez takes up the exclusivity of the division, and in section 4 its exhaustivity.
Sections 5 and 6 are devoted to particular members of this division, namely,
negations/privations and relations of reason, respectively.
4.1 Is the Traditional Division of Beings of Reason Mutually Exclusive?

Suárez divides beings of reason into three highest genera, namely, negation, priva-
tion, and relation. However, negations in the narrower sense (as lacks in an inapt
subject) and privations (as lacks in an apt subject) may both be subsumed under
negations in the broad sense (as lacks without qualification). Schematically:
Being of Reason
Negative
Positive (Negation broadly
speaking)
Negation narrowly
Relation of Reason Privation
speaking
60 Still, for the sake of completeness, I feel obliged to report one more issue that Suárez
briefly discusses, namely, angelic knowledge of beings of reason. According to Suárez,
angels normally do not make up beings of reason, although they may do so, for instance,
in the case of their (imperfect) knowledge of God. dm 54.2.25.
61 dm 54.3.1. One could also say two highest genera, if negations and privations are lumped
together. Both ways of dividing the supreme quasi-genus of being of reason seem
standard.
With respect to the exclusivity of this division, one may raise various objec-
tions. Suárez identifies four difficulties with it:62
(A) The first difficulty has to do with the fact that negations/privations do
not seem to be beings of reason. Rather, they seem to be something
really in things. Suárez replies that indeed negations and privations
taken as such are non-beings, i.e., they are not beings of reason.63
Then he points out that the intellect may attribute negations/priva-
tions to things not only in the proper negative way but also in an
improper positive way, and it is in the latter sense that negations/pri-
vations are beings of reason.64
(B) The second and the fourth difficulties concern the issue of whether one
can reduce all sorts of beings of reason to negations, namely, negations of
true and real existence, or to relations of reason. Suárez replies that rela-
tion (of reason) needs to be properly distinguished from negation/priva-
tion. That there is a distinction becomes clear when one considers the
foundations of negation/privation on the one hand, and of relation on
the other.65 Hence, even though every relation of reason involves a lack
of something real, namely, of a real relation, this feature itself is not suf-
ficient to turn it into a negation/privation.66 Thus, neither relation nor
negation/privation is reducible to the other—in spite of some superficial
similarities.
(C) The third difficulty concerns the distinction between negations and
privations.67 At this point Suárez simply states his division of beings of
reason, postponing the discussion of the proper distinction between
negations and privations to section 5.
Suárez concludes the discussion of section 3 by adding a brief paragraph about

whether the traditional division of beings of reason is univocal or analogical.
He seems to think that it is univocal, since “there is no sufficient reason for an
analogy.”68
62 Ibid., 54.3.2.
63 Ibid., 54.3.3.
64 Ibid., 54.3.4.
65 Ibid., 54.3.5.
66 Ibid., 54.3.5.
67 Ibid., 54.3.8.
68 Ibid., 54.3.9.
266 Novotný
4.2 Is the Traditional Division of Beings of Reason Jointly Exhaustive?

The question of the exhaustivity or sufficiency of the standard division is dis-
cussed by Suárez in section 4. The discussion is quite extensive, for it applies
the case by case method of argument. At this occasion we cannot go into the
details, so I will just summarize the main outline of Suárez’s argumentation.
Suárez begins with the following objection: there are as many kinds of beings
of reason as there are categories, for instance, chimeras are substances of rea-
son, imaginary space is a quantity of reason, fame is a quality of reason, and so
on; hence, the standard division is not exhaustive.69 Suárez proposes two dif-
ferent strategies to tackle this objection. The first strategy is to claim that the
standard division intentionally leaves out beings of reason that have no foun-
dation in reality, and if we stick to beings of reason that do have a foundation
in reality, we can prove that they divide in just the three genera, namely, nega-
tion, privation, and relation.70 The second strategy is to argue that problematic
beings of reason, such as chimeras, are special cases of negation.71 Suárez
eventually expresses his mild preference for the second strategy, although he
does not decisively reject the first strategy.72
4.3 Negations and Privations

In section 5 of Disputation 54, Suárez takes up the detailed comparison of
negations and privations. Since the two can be considered in two ways, namely
as real lacks of some form and as non-real beings of reason, the comparison is
carried out twice.73
Suárez first identifies five similarities between privations and negations as
they are in things:74
69 Ibid., 54.4.1.
70 The first defense of the traditional division is in dm 54.4.2-9. The general part of the argu-
ment is in dm 54.4.4-6. Particular examples of the alleged positive beings of reason that
are not relations are discussed in dm 54.4.7-9.
71 dm 54.4.10.
72 Ibid., 54.4.2.
73 Ibid., 54.5.1.
74 At this point, I also need to report that the comparison that follows is preceded in
Disputation 54 by a brief paragraph (dm 54.5.2) in which Suárez not only acknowledges
true (hence real and mind-independent) negations-privations, but also false (hence non-
real and mind-dependent) negations-privations. An example of the latter would be the
non-animality of a human being. In these we conceive beings as non-beings and hence
we may call them non-beings of reason. This line of reasoning makes Suárez’s theory ulti-
mately inconsistent. For more, see Novotný, Ens rationis from Suárez and Caramuel.
1. Both ‘remove’ real forms.75

2. Both stand in a real opposition to some positive real being.76
3. Both have a foundation in reality.77
4. Both can be predicated of things without any fiction-making activity of
the intellect.78
5. Indirect knowledge or representation of both real negations and real pri-
vations may happen in two ways, namely, through negative or through
affirmative statements.79
Next, with considerable phenomenological detail, he describes seven

differences:
1. Privation is the absence of a form in a subject that is capable of having it,

whereas negation is the absence of a form in a subject that is not capable
of having it. ‘Negation’ can also be used in a broader sense of the absence
of a form in a subject, regardless of the subject’s capacity to have it.
Negation in this sense is a genus, which includes privation and negation
in the narrower sense as its species.80
2. Privation admits degrees of more and less, whereas negation does not.81
3. Privation cannot be necessary for a subject, whereas negation can.82
4. There can be a ‘medium’ between predicating privation and possession,
but not between predicating negation and the opposite affirmation.83
5. Privations can be predicated only of real beings, whereas negations can
be predicated both of real and of fictitious beings. Suárez also briefly dis-
cusses predicating negations of chimeras, and accepts the view that they
yield true propositions, even necessarily.84
6. Privation is a principle of change, whereas negation is not.85
7. Privation cannot be naturally restored, whereas negation can.86
75 dm 54.5.3.
76 Ibid., 54.5.3.
77 Ibid., 54.5.4.
78 Ibid., 54.5.5.
79 Ibid., 54.5.5-6.
80 Ibid., 54.5.7.
81 Ibid., 54.5.10.
82 Ibid., 54.5.11.
83 Ibid., 54.5.12-13.
84 Ibid., 54.5.16 (with some Suárezian qualifications).
85 Ibid., 54.5.17-18.
86 Ibid., 54.5.19.
268 Novotný
This is all concerning the similarities/differences between negations/priva-

tions considered as real lacks. Suárez’s subsequent discussion of the similari-
ties/differences between negations/privations considered as beings of reason
is considerably shorter. There is just one thing they share, namely, that they are
absolute, i.e., non-relative.87 Furthermore, there are just two differences: (1) pri-
vations are thought of in the manner of qualities, whereas negations are also
thought of in the manner of other categories (if we subsume self-contradictory
beings under them)88; and (2) privations are always (thought to be) in a sub-
ject, whereas negations can be (thought to be) on their own. This happens, for
instance, with nothing, which is not something ascribed to a subject.89
Suárez concludes section 5 with a brief discussion of two more issues. First,
he considers whether negations differ from privations formally or relatively
(his answer is: sometimes formally, sometimes relatively).90 Second, he dis-
cusses whether there are propositional beings of reason (his answer is: proba-
bly ‘yes’).91
4.4 Relations of Reason

In the relatively brief section 6 Suárez deals with relations of reason. These are
“relations which the intellect contrives in the manner of a form ordered or
related to something…which in fact is not ordered or related…to this some-
thing.”92 Relations of reason are caused by the special acts of intellect described
above, and unlike real relations, they violate at least one of the following three
conditions:93
(C1) Both the first and the second element (‘extreme’) of the relation
really exist (its subject and term).
(C2) These two elements are really distinct.
(C3) There is a (real) fundament of the relation in one or both of these
elements.94
Relations of reason may be divided according to their foundation, splitting

into two basic genera. One contains relations of reason that do not have a
87 Ibid., 54.5.20.
88 Privations as qualities: ibid., 54.5.23.
89 Ibid., 54.5.24.
90 Ibid., 54.5.25 (formally), ibid., 54.5.26 (relatively).
91 Ibid., 54.5.27.
92 Ibid., 54.6.1.
93 Ibid., 54.6.2.
94 Ibid., 54.6.2.
foundation in reality. This group includes (1) relations between completely

made up beings of reason, e.g., the similarity between two chimeras; (2) rela-
tions between beings of reason with some foundation in reality, e.g., between
two ‘blindnesses’; and (3) relations between unactualized possible entities,
e.g., the relation of temporal precedence of Adam and Antichrist.95 (It is sur-
prising that relations between possibilia, which are real, are counted by Suárez
as relations of reason).
The second genus contains relations with a foundation in reality. It includes
(1) relations of real entities toward non-existents, whether possible or of rea-
son; (2) relations of real entities toward themselves (i.e., the two elements of
the relation fail to be really distinct—this group is further subdivided accord-
ing to the kind of non-real distinction between the two elements); (3) various
semantic, social, economic, and other relations that are between really distinct
existents but still do not satisfy all the conditions for real relations; and (4) vari-
ous logical relations that also fail several conditions for being real relations.96
Schematically, the classification of relations of reason looks as follows:
Relations of Reason
Without a foundation
(1) completely made up (e.g., between chimeras);
(2) with some remote foundation (e.g., between privations);
(3) between non-existent possible entities;
With a foundation
(1) relations of real entities toward non-existents;
(2) relations of real entities toward themselves;
(3) relations that violate conditions other than existence or
difference;
(4) logical intentions (relations based on extrinsic denomination
from the intellect, with some foundation in reality).
Suárez concludes the discussion of relations of reason with a very brief discus-
sion of second intentions, i.e., ‘higher-order predicates’. Unlike other late
scholastic authors, Suárez has almost nothing to say about them (only giving
them three short paragraphs). This is presumably because their treatment
belongs to logic, which is a subject that Suárez apparently did not like—so
much so that he did not publish a single work about it.
95 Ibid., 54.6.3.
96 (1) dm 54.6.4, (2) ibid., 54.6.5, (3) ibid., 54.6.6, (4) ibid., 54.6.8.
270 Novotný
5 Conclusion
The aim of this chapter was to provide an overview of Suárez’s theory of

beings of reason. My exposition closely followed the structure of Disputation
54 so that this chapter may also serve as a reading guide to the Disputation
itself. Suárez’s overall accomplishment is undoubtedly great. He was able to
put together many pre-Suárezian scholastic arguments into a unified frame-
work, sufficiently detailed and analytical but properly counterbalanced by
being positioned within a synoptic synthesis. Nevertheless, one may notice
certain problems or difficulties in this grand system, and there remain sev-
eral questions or objections one may ask, to which Suárez does not provide
answers. For instance, is it essential to beings of reason that they actually be
thought about? If, for instance, nobody is actually thinking about a chimera,
is there still a chimera? What is the place of literary fictions such as Hamlet
or the Middle Earth in Suárez’s theory? Are beings of reason individual or
universal? Are beings of reason distinct from the acts directed toward them
or are they parts of them, in other words, are they act-immanent or act-
transcendent? What are the synchronic and diachronic criteria of identity
for beings of reason? Does one person think of the same being of reason at
two or more occasions? How does one account for the difference between
referring to non-existent objects and a failure to refer to an object (objects of
mistakes)? Listing Suárez’s shortcomings is not meant to diminish his stat-
ure, of course. As it happens, in the history of thought philosophers are
successful and fruitful not only according to the measure of what they
accomplish, but also of what they fail to accomplish. This is no less true for
Suárez, as many scholastic philosophers after Suárez attempted either to
replace or improve what Suárez had bequeathed to them. Such efforts, more-
over, stimulated an extraordinary development of scholastic philosophy in
the seventeenth century. That, however, is the subject matter of another
story.97
97 Acknowledgment: The work on this essay was supported by the Czech Science Foundation
(no. P401/11/P020) and by the University of South Bohemia esf project (CZ.1.07/2.3.00/
30.0049). My gratitude goes to Světla Jarošová (České Budějovice) for many useful com-
ments, suggestions, and corrections concerning this essay. The remaining mistakes, of
course, are my sole responsibility.
Appendix: A Descriptive Overview of Disputation 54
The division and the descriptive titles that follow are based on the original
titles and the division of Suárez’s Disputation 54, but they are often modified
in order to make them more lucid and organized. I also include two diagrams
that highlight the central dialectics of sections 1 and 2.
Introduction: Why do we deal with beings of reason at the end of this book on
metaphysics? (n1–2)
The Nature of Beings of Reason (s1)

The First View: There are no beings of reason (n2)
The Second View: Beings of reason are real beings (n3)
The True View: Beings of reason ‘must be granted’ but they have ‘merely objec-
tive being in the intellect’––the first conclusion (n4–7)
Why we make up beings of reason––the second conclusion (n8)
Beings of reason are called ‘beings’ in an analogical sense––the third conclu-
sion (n9–10)
The Causes of Beings of Reason (s2)

Beings of reason have no formal, material, or final cause (n1)
The First View: Beings of reason have no efficient cause (n2)
The True View:
The First Conclusion: Beings of reason have an efficient cause in an analogical
sense (n3)
The Second Conclusion: The efficient cause of beings of reason is the intellect
(n4)
Further questions concerning the true view (n5)
The Second and the Third View: Beings of reason are extrinsic denomina-
tions––in general or from the intellect (nn. 6–14)
The First Consequence of these views: God would make up beings of reason
(n7)
The Second Consequence: Other mental powers would make them up (n8)
The Third Consequence: Non-living things would make them up (n9)
Objection One to these views: Not every extrinsic denomination is a being of
reason (n10)
Objection Two: Not every extrinsic denomination from the intellect is a being
of reason (n11–14)
The First Conclusion: Beings of reason are made up by the intellect (n15)
272 Novotný
The Second Conclusion: Beings of reason are made up by the reflexive act of
the intellect (n16)
The Third Conclusion: Beings of reason are made up by the intellect only (n17)
An Exception: Impossible beings of reason are made up also by the imagina-
tion (n18)
Does God make up beings of reason? (n19–23)
The First View: God makes up beings of reason (n19)
The Second View: It is incompatible with God’s perfection to make up beings
of reason (n20–22)
The True View: God does not make up beings of reason but knows them
(n23–24)
Do angels and the blessed in heaven make up beings of reason? (n25)
The Division of Beings of Reason (s3–6)
The Exclusivity of the Division (into Negation, Privation, and Relation) (s3)
Case For: the division is universally accepted and has its roots in Aristotle and
Aquinas (n1)
Difficulties (n2)
A (preliminary) defence of this division (n3)
The difference between relation of reason and negation/privation (n5–7)
The difference between negation and privation (n8)
Is this division analogical or univocal? (n9)
The Exhaustiveness (‘Sufficiency’) of the Division (s4)

Difficulties (n1)
The first defence: the exclusion of beings of reason without a foundation
(n2–6)
Reply to the initial difficulties with the exhaustiveness (n7–9)
The second defence: the inclusion of beings of reason without a foundation
under negation (n10)
Negation and Privation (Commonalities and Differences) (s5)

Comparison of negation and privation as they are in reality (n1–19)
Commonalities (n3–6)
Both consist in a ‘removal’ (n3)
Both are based on reality (n3)
Both have a foundation in the thing to which they are attributed (n4)
Both can be attributed to a thing without the fiction of the intellect (n5–6)
Differences (n7–19)
Varieties of privation (n8–9)
Privation admits of degrees of more or less (n10)
Negation might be necessary to the subject (n11)
Negation lacks the ‘middle’ (n12–14)
Privation belongs to real entities only (n15)
Privation is counted among the principles of natural change (n17–18)
Is there a reversal of privation? (n19)
Comparison of negation and privation as they are beings of reason (n20–27)
Privation is similar to quality (n20–22)
What category is negation similar to? (n23)
Privation is always conceived as in something (n24)
Various questions (n25–27)
Relation of Reason (s6)

What is a relation of reason? (n1–2)
Varieties of relations of reason (n3–8)
Second intentions (n9–11)
Three sorts of relations of reason correspond to three operations of the
intellect
Why second intentions are called ‘second’ (n10–11)
chapter 11
Suárez and the Natural Law

Paul Pace, s.j.
1 Introduction
I believe that Francisco Suárez can make an extremely important contribution

to the current debate on natural law, and that his extensive reflection on this
topic can shed much light on the matter. In spite of writing in a world that was
so very different from our own, and in a style that often looks inaccessible to
the contemporary reader, his reflections, and especially his conclusions, appear
eminently relevant to the twenty-first-century mind.
Yet his thought on the Natural Law is barely known, and any bibliographical
search will yield only very meagre results. This is a real misfortune he shares
with his contemporary theologians of sixteenth-century Spain, whose prolific
response to the challenges that the New World was offering is hardly ever men-
tioned in contemporary discussions on Natural Law.
There are three main factors that explain this lacuna. First, the enormous
output that sixteenth-century Spain produced in barely a century is impressive
on many counts, and it will take a long time for anyone to become familiar with
this whole corpus. Second, the fact that all these authors wrote in Latin, and
that most of their books exist only in the original editions or in nineteenth-
century editions, available only in very specialized libraries, render them even
more remote. And third, Suárez’s style may seem often impenetrable to those
who approach him for the first time.
2 The Theory
In his treatise De legibus ac Deo legislatore, first published in 1612, Suárez dedi-
cates Book 2 entirely to the natural law.1 The fruit of long years of reflection,
wide reading, and ample teaching on the topic, this long discussion presents
1 The edition of De Legibus (hereafter De leg.) we will be using here will be that found in
Luciano Pereña et al., eds., Corpus Hispanorum de Pace (hereafter chp), vols. 13–14 (Madrid,
1971, 1974). This forms part of a critical edition of the first four books of De leg., with an
accompanying Spanish translation and copious introductions.

Suárez And The Natural Law 275
an internally logically consistent ‘system’ with some surprisingly ‘modern’

conclusions.
Suárez meticulously discusses the usual issues raised by authors at the time,
including the nature of the law, its content, and the question of whether it can
change or not. He insists that it is a divine law, and as such is absolutely immu-
table, so that not even God can dispense from any of its demands. Here he
obviously parts company from Aquinas and his main commentators, who
were ready to admit change in the third-level precepts. He adds that since the
Natural Law is tied to the human rational nature, not even God can change its
precepts; he cannot dispense from them, nor apply epikeia to depart from their
demands.
In the worst possible ius-naturalist mode, this would seem to be a vision of
the natural law that is wholly inflexible. Yet Suárez surprises his readers by not-
ing that the third-level precepts, where the natural law is mostly exercised, are
known to us only imperfectly, being nothing more than approximate formula-
tions, incomplete and inadequate. Thus, while he insists that natural law prin-
ciples are absolutely immutable once discovered, Suárez points out that our
positive formulations are necessarily imprecise, so that he urges us to refine
our formulation of these precepts in a process of continuing reflection on our
moral experience.
3 The Context
The more we learn about Spain in the sixteenth century, the more we under-
stand the turmoil this country went through in a relatively short period of
time.2 Suárez was born in 1548 in Granada, located in Southern Spain, and by
the time of his death in Coimbra in 1617, not only had he become one of the
most outstanding theologians of his time, but his country, like the majority of
Europe, had become a completely different place.3
Sixteenth-century Spain was a cauldron of change on many levels. Suárez
was born in a country that had been under one monarchy for less than a
2 For a discussion of sixteenth-century Spain, see J.H. Elliott, Spain and its World, 1500–1700
(New Haven, 1989); Henry Kamen, Spain, 1469–1714: A Society in Conflict, 3rd edn. (New York,
2005); The Spanish Inquisition: A Historical Revision (New Haven, 1999); Helen Rawlings,
Church, Religion and Society in Early Modern Spain (Basingtoke, 2002).
3 John P. Doyle, “Francisco Suárez, His Life, His Works, His Doctrine, and Some of His Influence,”
in Collected Studies on Francisco Suárez, s.j. (1548–1617), ed. Victor M. Salas (Leuven, 2011),
pp. 1–20.
276 Paul Pace
century, and was not yet a united country; it had ‘discovered’ and colonized a
huge part of what we call Latin America, and this generated many political,
social, and economic repercussions. Suárez follows in the long line of truly
exceptional theologians, beginning with Francisco de Vitoria, who grappled
with the questions raised by this totally new situation.
Francisco de Vitoria is best known for his relecciones, in which he dealt
squarely with the ethical and political issues raised by the discovery and con-
quest of the New World by the Spanish crown. These included: what were the
valid titles for such an action, did non-Christians have rights–especially the
right to possess and to follow their own religion–are all human beings equal,
and if so, on what basis?4 Yet, Vitoria marked the development of theology in
Spain through another, possibly longer-lasting contribution: he introduced in
the University of Salamanca, the most prestigious university in Spain at that
time, the Summa of Aquinas as the textbook for teaching theology, which
came to replace the Lombard’s Book of Sentences; he himself had experienced
this change during his formative years in the university of Paris under John
Crockaert. This profound revival of theological thinking, initiated by Vitoria at
Salamanca, was continued by his successors Domingo de Soto and Melchior
Cano, who were followed by other original theologians like Luis de Molina,
Gabriel Vázquez, and Domingo Báñez.5 In many ways, Francisco Suárez can be
seen as the climax of this remarkable moment in Spanish and European theol-
ogy, not only in a chronological sense, but also as its supreme representative
and its most prolific writer.
These authors faced a world that was going through profound turbulence
and an accelerated process of deep change: the unity of the Church and the
unity of the Empire, which had so characterised the Medieval times, had come
to an end with the Protestant Reformation and the rise of nation states.
Furthermore, the world Europe had known had ‘expanded’ beyond recogni-
tion in a couple of generations, with the arrival of Europeans in the New World
and the circumnavigation of Africa. This new scenario also expanded markets,
and transatlantic commerce gave rise to new, unforeseen situations that called
for new answers: usury (lending money at an interest), universally held as
immoral since at least Aristotle, now started appearing more acceptable, given
the long intervals between lending and repayment and the great risks involved;
4 Francisco de Vitoria, Political Writings, ed. Anthony Pagden and Jeremy Lawrance (Cambridge,
1991); Jesús Cordero Pando, ed., Relectio de potestate civili, Estudio sobre su filosofía política
(Madrid, 2008).
5 Cf. Melquiades Andrés Martin, La teología española en el siglo XVI (Madrid, 1977); Juan Belda
Plans, La escuela de Salamanca y la renovación de la teología en el siglo XVI (Madrid, 2000).
these were times of scarcity and high price rises, so that the issue of what is a
just price was vital, as was the Christian’s obligation to help the poor.
Wars were ravaging Europe, leading Catholic and Protestant kings and
princes into strange alliances, and raising serious ethical questions about the
morality of starting and waging war. Many were ruled by princes who were of
a different religious affiliation, ‘heretics’ in the confrontational language of
that time, which also led to questions such as: were Catholics obliged to obey
their Protestant prince, and vice versa?
In these turbulent times, Spain produced geniuses in many areas of human
endeavour, from philosophy to literature to spirituality, and no less in theology.
Theologians participated in and contributed significantly to this outburst of
life and creativity that was transforming Europe, and produced some of the
finest theological works as they wrestled with these new problems. This move-
ment was certainly influenced by the increase in the number of universities
and by the challenge of humanism to the traditional theological method, as
well as by the appearance of the Jesuits and their network of schools and col-
leges throughout Europe. Kings and Popes sought their advice on many spe-
cific problems, and their answers showed their familiarity with the practices of
those whose morality they were judging.
In this great explosion of vitality and creativity, Suárez occupies a special
place as the movement’s supreme representative, as one who best bridges the
old and the new. Besides the extraordinary scope and volume of his work,
Suárez’s use of the auctoritates is so extensive that it shows he was better read
than any of his contemporaries.
There is no doubt that Suárez was exposed to many of the major intellectual
movements of his time, as he studied philosophy and theology at the University
of Salamanca under Mancio de Corpus Christi, a disciple of Francisco de
Vitoria. Besides Thomism and the Summa, at Salamanca Suárez also encoun-
tered Nominalism, which had a great influence on his thinking, and which
contributed in no small manner to his theories about the natural law (besides
costing him the unjustified accusation of being a voluntarist in his understand-
ing of law). His frequent references to many Nominalist authors clearly shows
his familiarity with their thought, and the influence they wielded on certain
aspects of it.
Within this increasingly complex and pluralist context, the theory of the
natural law seemed to offer our author the common ground that would enable
him to found his answers to the many new questions his generation encoun-
tered. His reflection on this issue spanned at least three decades of his intel-
lectual life, so that the presentation we find in De legibus (1612), barely five
years before his death, is the culmination of a lifelong process.
278 Paul Pace
4 The Development of His Thought6
Suárez lectured on law twice in his long university career, first in his early years
as a young professor at the prestigious Roman College in 1582, and then in the
years of his maturity in Coimbra, between 1601 and 1603. Luckily these lecture
notes—most probably dictated by Suárez himself, as was the custom at that
time—have been preserved,7 so that we can follow and appreciate the devel-
opment of Suárez’s thought.
Suárez arrived at the Roman College in 1580, and lectured on law two years
later, in 1582. As was the custom of most university teaching on theology at that
time, his lectures consisted mostly of commentaries on the Summa theologiae
of St. Thomas, in this case on st I, q. 2, a. 90; he followed its sequence quite
faithfully in the way he organized his lectures, though he still tried to be origi-
nal within his limitations.
In fact, these few pages are little more than lecture notes whose main value
lies in allowing us to see the development of the author’s later thinking. One
main difference lies in the fact that Suárez had not yet come in contact with
the theories of his future Jesuit colleague-cum-adversary, Gabriel Vázquez, an
author whose ideas he analyses in great detail and length in the second book
of De legibus.
Many years later, during the academic years of 1601–1603, Suárez lectured on
his treatise De legibus at the request of the Rector of the University of Coimbra,
Alfonso Furtado de Mendoça. Suárez himself acknowledges that these lectures
served as the blueprint for his final work. Currently, they are preserved in two
manuscripts, kept respectively in the Library of Coimbra University and in the
Lisbon National Archives.8
The text of these lectures marks a qualitative development from the text of
the lectures from 1582. The text is much longer, the breadth of questions dealt
with is much wider, and the authors quoted are significantly more numerous.
The most striking difference, however, lies in the method Suárez employed: it
is no longer merely a slavish commentary on a few quaestiones of the Summa,
but the systematic presentation of his own thought on the subject of laws.
6 For a more detailed account of this section and the rest of the middle parts of this chapter, cf.
Paul Pace, “Immutable yet Inadequately Formulated: The Natural Law in Francisco Suárez
(1548–1617),” Studia Moralia 45 (2007): 217–255.
7 Some relevant parts of these manuscripts have been published in the different volumes of
chp according to the corresponding part of De legibus.
8 The two manuscripts are practically identical, and the few differences can be attributed to
the carelessness of the amanuensis of the Lisbon manuscript and to his poor knowledge of
Latin.
Feeling himself sufficiently mature to emancipate himself from Aquinas,

Suárez is finally free to devote himself to more recent questions, as well. These
were particularly the questions raised by the Nominalism of Ockham and his
followers, and by the ‘essentialist’ reaction it produced. There is no doubt that
by this point his thought had gained in logical consistency and depth, and that
his answers are more complete and expounded more systematically. However,
even more significant than this are the changes in his thought, especially his
exclusion of any possibility of dispensing from the precepts of the natural law,
an issue we will examine in great detail later on.
5 The Definitive Text: De legibus ac Deo legislatore (1612)
The death of Gabriel Vázquez in 1604 and the publication of his works in Alcalá
provided Suárez with the opportunity to develop his thought on the natural
law more freely, for he was now released from the Jesuit General’s prohibition
forbidding the two theologians from mentioning or attacking one another.
Thus, he could now construct his chapter on the nature of the natural law
(Chapter 5) around a refutation of Vázquez. Meanwhile, Suárez continued to
build up his private library of six hundred and fifty volumes, and the number
of juridical texts he acquired between 1603 and 1608 is indeed remarkable, as is
obvious by his very abundant use of sources.9
6 What is the Natural Law?
When Suárez approaches the topic of the nature of the natural law, he does
so in critical dialogue with the most important theories existing in his time.
These placed the natural law either in human rational nature or in God’s will,
with Aquinas and Ockham as the supreme representatives of these two con-
trasting visions. Suárez clearly embraces the first and refutes the second. Yet, in
spite of this clear preference, Nominalism certainly had an important influ-
ence on Suárez: to the traditional definition of the natural law as the recta
ratio, Suárez adds a specific act of the divine will that imposes an obligation.
Suárez constructs his position in a critical dialogue with Vázquez, who, radi-
calizing Aquinas, insisted that the natural law in humans is identical with our
rational nature.
9 Two appendices in vol. 11 of the chp (167–183) list the books held in Suárez’s library at
Coimbra, a list that runs to more than 650 volumes.
280 Paul Pace
The controversy had its origin in the different conceptions the two Jesuits
had of the nature of law in general, namely, whether it was only an act of the
intellect or whether it included an act of the will. Vázquez held that law is actus
intellectus supposito actu voluntatis, a definition he applies to all classes of law
except the natural law; the natural law, in contrast, indicates of itself what is
intrinsically good or intrinsically bad. Accordingly, an action is good if it
conforms to human rational nature. Since Vázquez held that he could identify
the natural law with human rational nature, he saw no need for any particular
legislative act on God’s part. In fact, he argued, the expression ‘natural law’ is
inexact, for one cannot in all rigour speak of it as a ‘law’, but rather as human
rational nature.
Suárez, who had adamantly claimed that essentially all law is an actus vol-
untatis,10 and who had excluded no law from this definition, could never agree
with Vázquez, and this difference provided him with the opportunity of put-
ting forward his own theory.
He has no problem with Vázquez’s position that the intrinsic goodness or
malice of actions is based on their being commanded or prohibited by the
natural law, but he insists that this premise does not justify identifying the
natural law with human rational nature.11 Not only is this explanation unique
to Vázquez, but it is clearly based on an imprecise understanding of the con-
cept of rational nature. Human nature considered strictly in itself has none of
the effects that are attributable to law: it does not of itself order, nor does it
indicate malice or goodness, so that, unless we use the term ‘law’ in a purely
metaphorical sense, we cannot call rational nature a law.12
Suárez claims that the error in Vázquez’s position lies in confusing the natu-
ral law with its foundation: not everything that is the ground of a certain pro-
hibition or order can be called law. The poverty of a beggar and the richness of
10 This phrase has earned Suárez the label of voluntarist, even by eminent authors like
Finnis and Mahoney. Yet, Suárez repeatedly stresses that law is also an act of the intellect:
“…legem mentalem in ipso legislatore esse actum voluntatis iustae et rectae” (De leg., 1.5.24,
chp, vol. 11, p. 99). It seems that these interpretations stem from a partial reading, which
disregards the Nominalist influences to which he was exposed during his formation, and
with whose major exponents he shows to be very familiar.
11 De leg., 2.5.5 (chp, vol. 13, p. 63): “In hac sententia veram esse existimo doctrinam quam in
fundamento supponit de intrinseca honestate vel malitia actuum, qua sub legem natura-
lem prohibentem vel praecipientem cadunt, ut in discursu capitis declarabo. Nihilominus
sententia ipsa quatenus ad legem naturalem declarandam pertinet, et modus loquendi de
illa mihi non probatur.”
12 Ibid.
a donor are the foundation of the latter’s obligation to give alms, yet it would
be absurd to say that the beggar’s penury is identical with the law of almsgiving
(De leg., 1.5.6).
Claiming then to perform what Vázquez did not succeed in doing himself,
Suárez proceeds to distinguish two aspects of the expression ‘rational nature’:
the first is rational nature in itself, as the foundation of the conformity of
human actions with itself. The second aspect is the faculty of human nature
that discerns between acts that conform to this nature and those that do not,
i.e., the ratio naturalis. While the former is only the foundation of the natural
law, the human ratio can be called the natural law itself, for it commands the
human will what it should or should not do.13
Suárez then puts forward his own position: the natural law is the natural
judgement of right reason. This order is discovered in the human conscience,
and it is to this that St. Paul refers when he speaks of the pagans whose very
nature assumes the function of law: “Ostendunt opus legis scriptum in cordibus
suis, testimonio reddente illis conscientia ipsorum” (Rom 2:14–15). This is also,
for Suárez, the position of Aquinas in st II-I, q. 91, a. 2, where he quotes Psalm
4:6–7, “Quis ostendit nobis bona? Signatum est super nos lumen vultis tui
Domine,” to define the natural law as our rational participation in the eternal
law.14 Suárez practically repeats the same definition, though with a very impor-
tant comment: he adds that the one who follows the demands of one’s own
ratio is a law unto oneself, for it is law written in oneself, through the judge-
ment of one’s rational nature.15
Had Suárez stopped here, he would be open to the charge he brings against
Vázquez, namely, that of somehow breaking the link between the divine and
the natural law. True to his general definition of law as actus voluntatis,
Suárez dedicates a whole chapter (De leg., 2.6) to answer the question of
13 De leg., 2.5.9 (chp, vol. 13, p. 66): “Est ergo secunda sententia, quae in natura rationali duo
distinguit: unum est natura ipsa, quatenus est veluti fundamentum convenientiae vel dis-
convenientiae actionum humanarum ad ipsam; aliud est vis quaedam illius naturae,
quam habet ad discernendum inter operationes convenientes et disconvenientes illi
naturae, quam rationem naturalem appellamus. Priori modo dicitur haec natura est fun-
damentum honestatis naturalis. Posteriori modo dicitur lex ipsa naturalis, quae humanae
voluntati praecipit vel prohibet quod agendum est ex naturali iure.”
14 “Unde patet quod lex naturalis nihil aliud est quam participatio legis aeternae in rationali
creatura.”
15 De leg., 2.5.10 (chp, vol. 13, p. 68): “Hoc ergo dictamen [rationis] est lex naturalis ac ratione
illius dicitur homo qui illo ducitur esse sibi lex, quis in se habet scriptam legem medio
dictamine naturalis rationis…. Illud ergo est lex naturalis, quia haec non est nisi quaedam
participatio naturalis aeternae legis.” Not exactly a voluntarist definition!
282 Paul Pace
whether one can consistently say that the natural law is both the judgement
of the human recta ratio and an act of God’s will. He disagrees with those
who, like Gregory of Rimini, held that the natural law is an act of God the
creator and not the legislator, which he argues is an indicative and not a pre-
scriptive statement (De leg., 2.6.1–3); nevertheless, he also disagrees with the
extreme voluntarism of Ockham, who grounds the natural law exclusively in
God’s will and not in human rational nature, so that the whole natural law is
no more than a series of God-given precepts, which God can change or abol-
ish at will (De leg., 2.6.4).
Steering away from these extreme theories he tries to propose a middle way,
which he claims to be also the position of Aquinas and of the majority of the
theologians. According to this theory, the natural law is not only indicative of
what is good and evil, but is also prescriptive or prohibitive.16 It is not just a
mere indication but a law that creates a true obligation as a result of an act of
the divine will, though this very act does not constitute the whole ground of
the goodness or malice of what is required or prohibited. It presupposes an
intrinsic honesty or malice in the acts themselves, to which it adds a special
obligation of the divine law.17 Thus, Suárez can conclude that the natural law is
truly a divine law, whose lawgiver is God Himself.18
This saves law from arbitrariness, as there is an objective standard by which
we can judge the validity of human actions. On the one hand, it is a law that is
founded on God, the author of the eternal law, who is goodness and justice
Himself. On the other hand, though, it is a law that we can—and in fact do—
discover, through a God-given faculty. The person thus becomes the law unto
itself, a law that, like the eternal law, we participate in, hence it is no result of
an arbitrary whim but rather of the rational search for what is compatible or
incompatible with one’s humanity. Finally, it is a law that is accessible to all,
even to those who do not possess the gift of faith.19
16 Ibid., 2.6.5 (chp, vol. 13, p. 84): “Dico ergo primo Lex naturalis non tantum est indicativa
mali et boni sed etiam continet propriam prohibitionem mali et praeceptionem boni.”
17 Ibid., 2.6.11 (chp, vol. 13, p. 92): “Dico secundo: Haec Dei voluntas, prohibitio aut praecep-
tio non est tota ratio bonitatis et malitiae quae est in observatione vel transgressione legis
naturalis, sed supponit in ipsis actibus necessariam quamdam honestatem vel turpitudi-
nem et illis adiungit specialem legis divinae obligationem.”
18 Ibid., 2.6.13 (chp, vol. 13, p. 95): “Ex dictis ergo concludo et dico tertio legem naturalem
esse veram ac propriam legem divinam, cuius legislator est Deus.”
19 For further discussion on this point, on the relationship between the precepts of the natu-
ral law and those of the New Law of the Gospel, cf. Paul Pace, “Immutable yet Inadequately
Formulated,” Studia Moralia 45 (2007): pp. 252–253.
7 The Precepts of the Natural Law
This review of what Suárez meant by natural law will be of little practical value
unless we try to answer the vexed question of what are its concrete demands.
Here Nominalism’s insistence on the importance of individual action is obvi-
ous, for a criterion that claims to erect itself as a higher law will be quite inef-
fectual were it to remain at the level of general principles.
Suárez speaks at length on the content of the natural law and on how to
discover and formulate its precepts, an aspect of Suárez’s thought that needs to
be further studied. He takes up the discussion in Chapter 7 of Book 2.
Certain authors had expressed doubts about whether all that is good in
itself belongs to the natural law, or whether the natural law includes only such
general principles as ‘Do good and avoid evil’, or ‘Do to others what you would
like done to you’. Suárez holds that the natural law includes all those precepts
or moral principles that are so evidently necessary for moral goodness that
their contrary would manifestly imply a moral disorder.20
Here Suárez refers to his classical theory of the three classes of natural pre-
cepts, which he had first formulated in his lectures at the Roman College,
developing it at greater length to draw some very relevant conclusions. On the
first level there are the first principles, which are evident to all. These include:
‘Do good’, ‘Avoid evil’, ‘Do not do to others what you do not want done to you’.
The second-order precepts are somewhat more specific, and include laws such
as: ‘Observe justice’, ‘Worship God’, ‘Live temperately’. These first two orders of
precepts are, according to Suárez, self-evident, and there is no doubt that they
belong to the natural law.
The final group of natural law precepts contains laws that can be derived
from the first two orders of principles; they cannot in any way be called self-
evident, and though many of these precepts can normally be known without
difficulty, there are others that can only be arrived at after a long process of
reasoning. That fornication is intrinsically evil, that usury is unjust, or that a
lie can never be justified are examples of precepts that are not so easily acces-
sible to all.21 Since the last order is a set of conclusions derived from the first
20 De leg., 2.7.4 (chp, vol. 13, p. 113): “Nihilominus dicendum est ius naturale complecti omnia
praecepta seu principia moralia, quae evidentem habent honestatem necessariam ad rec-
titudinem morum, ita ut opposita moralem inordinationem seu malitiam evidenter
contineant.”
21 Ibid., 2.7.5 (chp, vol. 13, pp. 115–116): “In tertio ordine ponimus conclusiones quae per
evidentem iliationem ex principiis naturalibus inferuntur et non nisi per discursum
cognosci possunt. Inter quas quaedam facilius et pluribus cognoscuntur, ut adulterium,
284 Paul Pace
principles, one can conclude that even they form part of the natural law, for
the truth contained in a principle is also present in its conclusion.
Here Suárez makes a very insightful ‘common-sense’ affirmation: while all
three orders of precepts belong to the natural law, and the first two are practi-
cally self-evident, the natural law is put into practice (exercetur) more in the
third order of immediate conclusions than in the universal principles. Since
law is an immediate rule of conduct, the general self-evident principles can be
considered laws only to the extent they are applied to concrete situations by
other, more proximate principles.22
Suárez believes that if we want to be relevant and concrete, we must not be
content with the general, self-evident principles, but must direct our attention
to the more proximate conclusions; nevertheless, their very proximity to con-
crete action also makes them less likely to be universally accepted.
Suárez does not directly explain the process whereby our human ratio arrives
at this third level of precepts from the more universal principles of the first two
orders. I propose that the best way to arrive at this is by studying the dynamic
relationship that exists between three important elements in his doctrine of the
natural law: the absolute immutability of all the precepts of the natural law; the
imprecise formulation of these precepts; and the important consequences that
the change of the object and of the circumstances have for his general theory.
8 The Immutability of the Natural Law
Here we encounter a significant shift from Suárez’s earlier positions. In his

Roman lectures, Suárez follows Aquinas closely, claiming that the natural law
is immutable, but not in the more remote conclusions derived from its first
principles, which are generalizations that can be found not to apply in certain
situations, so that God can dispense from them.
Already in his Coimbra lectures, however, he begins to realize that Aquinas’s
position lacks logical consistency, and therefore changes his stance to consider
even the third order of precepts to be absolutely immutable.23 In De legibus his
furtum et similia, prava ease. Aliae maiori indigent discursu et non facile omnibus notae,
ut fornicationem esse intrinsice malam, usuram esse iniustam, mendacium numquam
posse honestari et similia.”
22 Ibid., 2.7.7 (chp, vol. 13, p. 117): “Immo si proprie loquamur, magis exercetur lex naturalis in
his principiis vel conclusionibus proximis, quam in illis principiis universalibus; quia lex
est proxima regula operationis.”
23 chp, vol. 13, pp. 69–72.
position is basically identical with that of the Coimbra lectures, though pre-
sented in a more elaborate and complete manner. His basic tenet is that strictly
speaking, the natural law can neither cease to exist nor undergo change, nei-
ther in general nor in particular.24
True to his scholastic world view, Suárez bases this affirmation on the cor-
respondence between the order of being and the moral law. The natural law is
the participation of the human ratio in the eternal law, and since neither the
human ratio nor the eternal will of God for the world can ever undergo any
change, neither the natural law nor its precepts can ever change. If we consider
the natural law either in humans or in God, the conclusions we arrive at are
identical. Insofar as it exists in man, the natural law cannot change, for it con-
stitutes an essential property that flows directly from human nature, in such a
way that any change in the natural law would only be possible if human nature
itself were to change or cease to exist as it is—a conclusion that, within scho-
lastic metaphysics, would be an absurdity. Considered as it exists in God, the
natural law obviously cannot change or cease to exist, neither in God’s intellect
nor in his will: God can never cease to order what is good in itself and prohibit
what is in itself evil.25
We come to the same conclusion if we consider the nature of the pre-
cepts themselves: these are either self-evident principles or necessary con-
clusions derived from them, so that they are all endowed with necessary and
eternal truth. We would be contradicting ourselves were we to say that the
first principles necessarily possess a truth that may be lacking from their
conclusions.26
Furthermore, this is true of both the negative and the positive precepts.
Negative precepts prohibit what is intrinsically evil, so that they oblige without
any exception—semper et pro semper. Affirmative principles, on the other
hand, oblige always but not all the time—semper non tamen pro semper. Yet,
24 De leg., 2.13.2 (chp, vol. 14, p. 4): “Dico igitur proprie loquendo legem naturalem per
seipsam desinere non posse vel mutari, neque in universali neque in particulari, manente
natura rationali cum usu rationis et libertatis.”
25 Ibid., 2.13.2 (chp, vol.14, p. 5): “Prout est in homine mutari non potest, quia est intrinseca
proprietas necessario fluens ex tali natura, qua talis est. ….Si vero consideratur haec lex ut
est in Deo, supra ostensum est non posse auferri non solum a iudicio divini intellectus
verum etiam neque a voluntate qua vult vel talia bona praecipere vel talia mala vitare.”
26 Ibid., 2.13.3 (chp, vol. 14, p. 6): “Complectitur enim hoc ius principia morum per se nota,
et omnes ac solas conclusiones quae ex illis necessaria illatione inferuntur sive proxime
sive per plures illationes. Omnia autem haec perpetuae veritatis sunt, quae veritas prin-
cipiorum non subsistit sine veritate talium conclusionum, et principia ipsa ex terminis
necessaria sunt.”
286 Paul Pace
the fact that they oblige in some cases and not in others should not be taken
to mean they can change, but rather that of their very nature they apply in
those situations when the omission of the act they require would be essentially
evil. When seen in this light, it is obvious that they cannot undergo change
(De leg., 2.13.4).
Earlier in Book 2, Suárez had argued that the natural law is not a quality that
has its origin in the individual ratio, but in the specific human nature, which is
the same in all.27 The natural law is also one at all time and in every state of
human nature,28 including before and after original sin.
We will now elaborate on four general conclusions that our author draws
from this starting point.
9 Permission and Human Dispensation
The first and most obvious conclusion is that the natural law can never be a lex
permissiva, for as its object it has those acts that are evil in themselves. Since
the natural law is of itself immutable, the possibility of ever permitting such
actions does not exist.29
Various eminent authors held that humans can sometimes dispense from or
change the natural law through human law, except for those precepts that are
self-evident. Here, they were referring to the Papal power of dispensing from
vows and annulling marriages, so that their position was more than plausible.
Suárez, however, disagrees with this position, saying that such conclusions
are the result of the inability to distinguish between the natural law on the one
hand, and divine positive law and ius gentium on the other, where only the lat-
ter can permit exemptions. Suárez insists that no human authority, not even
the Pope, can abrogate a true precept of the natural law, nor can it really limit
or dispense from it.30 First of all, natural law is based on human nature so that
27 De leg., 2.8.5 (chp, vol. 13, p. 130): “Secundo dicendum est hanc legem naturalem esse
unam in omnibus hominibus at ubique…. Ratio est, quia haec lex est veluti proprietas
consequens non rationem propriam alicuius individui, sed specificam naturam quae
eadem est in omnibus.”
28 Ibid., 2.8.8 (chp, vol. 13, p. 133): “Ultimo dicendum est hanc legem naturalem etiam esse
unam in omni tempore et statu humanae naturae.”
29 Ibid., 2.12.1 (chp, vol. 13, p. 179): “Unde fit ut neque propria permissio locum habeat in hoc
iure, quia nihil quod de se malum sit permittit licite fieri, ut per se constat, quia hoc
repugnat actioni intrinsece ac per se malae.”
30 Ibid., 2.14.8 (chp, vol. 14, p. 24): “Nulla potestas humana, etiamsi pontificia sit, potest
proprium aliquod praeceptum legis naturalis abrogare, nec illud proprie et in se minuere,
neque in illo dispensare.”
it is immutable. Second, the natural law is a divine law with God himself as the
legislator, and no human authority can change any God-given law. Third, the
natural law is the foundation of human law, so that if the latter could abrogate
the natural law, civil law would be destroying itself. Finally, any human law that
goes against the natural law loses by that very fact its claim to be called a law.
Hence, God cannot grant the power to dispense from the natural law precepts
to any human person, not even the Pope (De leg., 2.14.9–10).
10 Dispensation by God Himself
If it is accepted that every human legislator can dispense from his own laws,
this must be true a fortiori of God. In fact, this seems to have been the case in
the Old Testament, where God ordered Abraham to offer him his own son
(Gen. 22), Hosea to marry a prostitute (Hos. 1), and the Israelites to plunder the
Egyptians before leaving Egypt (Ex. 12).
Suárez refers here to the distinction between the different orders of the nat-
ural law precepts: all agree that not even God can dispense from the first prin-
ciples of the natural law, ‘Do good and avoid evil’, so that the controversy is
concerned with the other two orders, and more specifically with the second
order of principles (which Suárez here identifies with the commandments of
the Decalogue), for very little is normally said of the third (De leg., 2.15.2)!31
Suárez discusses the various positions on this issue, both radical and moder-
ate. He covers the extreme voluntarism of Ockham, who claimed that God
could dispense from all natural law precepts, as well as discussing the more
moderate positions of Scotus, Durandus, and John Mair, who distinguished
between the different precepts God could dispense from.
Suárez then presents his own theory, which simply holds that the precepts
of the Decalogue can never, under any circumstance whatsoever, be dispensed
from, not even by God’s potentia absoluta.32 This is the position held by an
impressive list of authors: Aquinas, Caietanus, Soto, Vitoria, and Molina,
among others. Aquinas argues (st II-I, q. 100, a. 8) that since the command-
ments of the Decalogue are precepts that include an intrinsic principle of jus-
tice and obligation, they can never be dispensed from, for the obligation can
never be separated from such precepts. Not even God can give a dispensation,
for he would be going against his own justice.
31 chp, vol. 14, p. 47.

32 De leg., 2.15.16 (chp, vol. 14, p. 60): “Est igitur quarta opinio, quae absolute et simpliciter
docet haec praecepta decalogi esse indispensabilia etiam per potentiam Dei absolutam.”
288 Paul Pace
This may seem to include a petitio principii: a precept cannot be dispensed

from because it obliges absolutely. Suárez replies that there are two kinds of
obligation, one proceeding directly from the law, as its immediate effect, and
another that is born of an intrinsic relation between the object and the recta
ratio (De leg., 2.15.18).33
In the article just quoted, Aquinas is speaking of the second type of obliga-
tion, so that the objection is not valid. The natural law does not create the
goodness or malice of an act, but, within a teleological view of the world and
of human activity, it prohibits or commands what of its very nature is a hin-
drance or a help towards our final end. In this perspective, the obligation can
never be separated from the matter of the action, for it does not depend on any
intrinsic act of the will that can be removed: it is an obligation somehow iden-
tical with the object, so that it cannot be withdrawn unless the object ceases to
exist. That is why not even God, with his potestas absoluta, can grant a dispen-
sation from any precept of the natural law.
At the end of this chapter, Suárez returns to the same question, this time,
however, referring to the third-order precepts of the natural law. Here the
weight of the authority of those who say that such precepts can change or be
dispensed from is overwhelming. Not only is this position supported by his
august contemporaries Soto34 and Medina,35 but Aquinas himself says that the
natural law can undergo change in some of its precepts.36 Aquinas brings the
example of not returning a dagger that has been borrowed when one knows
the owner would use it to kill. This was the position Suárez had embraced in
his Roman lectures. By the time he wrote his De legibus, however, his position
had changed in order to be consistent with his general principle: thus, strictly
speaking, God cannot dispense from any precept of the natural law.37 Before
discussing how he interprets Aquinas’s affirmations on this issue, and how he
himself explains the examples mentioned by these authors, let us look at the
last of the four consequences of this theory, namely, the impossibility of epikeia
in the case of the natural law precepts.
33 chp, vol. 14, p. 62.

34 De iustitia et iure (Salamanca, 1556 = Madrid, 1968) 1.2.3, p. 116.
35 Expostio in Primam Secundae Angelici Doctoris Divi Thomae Aquinatis (Venice, 1580),
quaest. 100, art. 2, ad 2, p. 534.
36 st II-I, q. 95, a. 4: “Potest tamen [lex naturalis] immutari in aliquo particulari, et in pau-
cioribus, propter aliquas speciales causas impedientes observantiam talium
praeceptorum.”
37 De leg., 2.15.26 (chp, vol. 14, p. 71): “Nihilominus dicendum est, proprie loquendo, non
dispensare Deum in aliquo praecepto naturali.”
11 Epikeia38
Here the question is twofold. Is epikeia of the natural law possible? If it is, can
it be practised only by God, or also by humans? The answer to the first question
is affirmative among practically all the authors Suárez lists (fere omnes aucto-
res), for the more we are removed from the first principles, the more urgent
becomes the need to interpret the natural law through epikeia; without this
possibility the natural law would easily become an unjust law.
Nevertheless, there is controversy among the authors regarding the second
point: some say that only God, as the legislator, can exercise epikeia in the case
of the natural law, while others extend this power to a human being, to the
Pope or to someone else with similar authority (De leg., II, c. 16, n. 2). For some
authors, it is obvious that in a situation of necessity God would transfer this
power also to humans.
Suárez, however, denies that epikeia is at all possible in the natural law,
either by God or by humans. He invokes the same reasons he himself put for-
ward to exclude all possibility of dispensation.39 All the precepts of the natural
law are necessary conclusions from self-evident principles, so that they are
incompatible with epikeia, since compatibility would presuppose a lack of
moral truth. Moreover, since the precepts of the natural law prohibit what is of
itself evil, they can never be interpreted in such a way as to permit the perfor-
mance of such evil acts.
To support this seemingly improbable thesis, Suárez, in his typical manner,
draws some distinctions. For one, he notes that very often when we speak of
epikeia we are actually referring to the wider concept of interpretation and not
to correction of the law, which is what epikeia does in its strict sense (De leg.,
2.16.4).
Moreover, Suárez points out that the natural law can be considered either in
itself or as it is formulated in positive laws (De leg., 2.16.5). As regards the first
kind of natural law precepts, dictated by the recta ratio, he insists that while
many such precepts need further interpretation (De leg., 2.16.6), they cannot be
38 For the notion of epikeia in Suárez, see G. VIRT, Epikie—verantwortlicher Umgang mit
Normen. Eine historisch-systematische Untersuchung zu Aristoteles, Thomas von Aquin und
Franz Suárez (Mainz, 1983), pp. 172–233.
39 De leg., 2.16.3 (chp, vol. 14, pp. 80–81): “Nihilominus esse potest tertia opinio, quae in priori
puncto negat legem naturalem esse capacem epiikiae, et consequenter tollit fundamen-
tum posterioris dubii. Igitur primum illud fundamentum probari videtur ex dictis de dis-
pensatione; nam qua ratione non potest in legem cadere dispensatio, eadem neque
huiusmodi interpretatio.”
290 Paul Pace
the object of epikeia, either by God or by man, for epikeia is a correction of the
law. Neither can there be an exercise of epikeia that produces an exemption of
the universal law in a particular case: a dictate of the recta ratio cannot be a
mere declaration that can be found wanting in concrete cases, but it must, of
its very nature, consider all the circumstances that render it truly universal and
hence not needing epikeia.
Finally, Suárez proves the same thesis by induction. The positive precepts of
the natural law apply semper sed non pro semper: insofar as they apply semper
there can be no possibility of epikeia, for any change is, by definition, excluded;
insofar as they apply non pro semper, we can say that the cases when they do
oblige are determined either through positive law or through reason. In the
former case, we would be speaking of epikeia of the positive law, and not of the
natural law. If it is human reason that determines when a positive precept
applies and when it does not, it is clearly not an exercise of epikeia but of a
proper understanding of the precept. For instance, if our reason tells us that
the obligation of brotherly correction does not exist in a particular case because
there is no likelihood of its bearing fruit, we are not dealing with epikeia of the
positive precept of brotherly correction, but it is rather our recta ratio that
offers us a true interpretation of the precept (De leg., 2.16.10).
The case of the negative precepts is even clearer, for they apply semper et pro
semper, allowing no possibility for epikeia (De leg., 2.16.11). Thus, in the case of
the precepts of the natural law considered in itself, we can never speak of an
exercise of epikeia.
However, this changes when the natural law is known through positive laws.
Here we can speak of epikeia, but not epikeia of the natural law; rather, this is
epikeia of the positive law, through which we can determine the true intention
of the human legislator (De leg., 2.16.16).40 Suárez notes here that the afore-
mentioned authors are referring to cases such as these when they say that
epikeia is possible in the natural law. Since human laws are no more than gen-
eralizations that cannot embrace all possible situations, they always need to be
applied to particular circumstances, which may sometimes demand an excep-
tion of the law through the exercise of epikeia. But, strictly speaking, this is
only epikeia of the human positive law.
Such an idea of the natural law as absolutely immutable, from which not
even God can dispense, seems to exhibit precisely that rigidity that has dis-
credited the whole tradition because of its obvious remoteness from the com-
plexity of real human life. Fortunately, our author soon moved further in his
investigation, formulating a theory that, while maintaining a strict inner logic,
40 chp, vol. 14, p. 97.

is surprisingly flexible and open. He achieves this by expounding on two com-

plementary aspects of the immutability of the natural law, namely, the impre-
cision of any positive formulation of its precepts, and the development of the
earlier insight of the change ex parte obiecti, which he inherits from the scho-
lastic tradition.
12 The Inadequate Formulation of the Natural Law Precepts
The key to the dynamic relation between rigidity and flexibility in Suárez’s for-
mulation of the natural law lies in his tripartite division of the law’s precepts.
The real difficulties lie with the last order of precepts, the ones more difficult
to identify, but which for Suárez are the truly crucial level. If we want to make
meaningful progress in our search for a better understanding of natural law, we
ought not to dwell excessively on what are the obvious universal principles,
but face the issues raised by this last class of precepts.
In so doing, we have to keep in mind that the natural law, of its very nature,
is not a positive law, so that the problems of getting to know its content loom
larger the farther one moves away from the self-evident principles. Already in
Book 1, Suárez speaks of the natural law as inscribed in the human heart, a
heart that he describes as a ‘living book’ (liber vivus), unlike the positive law,
which is inscribed in a liber mortuus.41
The same problem arises when Suárez comes to explain how, although the
natural law is one among all men, certain societies have laws and customs that
are contrary to it.42 His answer is that while the natural law is in itself (quoad
substantiam) one among the whole of humankind, its knowledge (quoad noti-
tiam) is not so universally complete. For if we consider the natural law in actu
primo, it is identical with the very light of reason, so that it is the same in all.
But it is also possible to consider it in actu secundo, as a concrete act of the
intellect, or as a habitus. In this second sense, it is only the first universal prin-
ciples that cannot be unknown, for the possibility of ignorance does exist in
the case of the other, more particular precepts.43 In fact, while ignorance of the
41 De leg., 1.8.10 (chp, vol. 11, p. 157): “Liber autem mortuus non potest dici esse sibi ipsi lex,
quia non potest se per legem in ipso scriptam gubernare. Cor autem hominis est liber
vivus in quo est lex naturae scripta, et ideo quatenus illa regitur, dicitur sibi ipsi esse lex.”
42 Here (De leg., 2.8.5, chp, vol. 13, pp. 130–131) Suárez mentions the classical example men-
tioned by Caesar (De Bello Gallico, 6, c. 23) that among the Germans stealing was
admitted.
43 De leg., 2.8.6 (chp, vol. 13, pp. 131–132): “Nam saltem quoad prima et universalissima prin-
cipia ignorari non potest, quia sunt ex terminis notissima.…Quoad alia vero particularia
292 Paul Pace
first principles is practically impossible, the second order precepts, like the
commandments of the Decalogue, can be ignored, with or without fault. It is
also possible not to know those third-order principles without any fault of
one’s own, especially among uncultured people or when there is an old custom
contrary to the natural law (De leg., 2.8.7).
In the same Chapter 13 of Book 2 where he insists so scrupulously on the
immutability of all the precepts of the natural law, Suárez draws our attention
to the fact that when we say that the natural law is written in the human ratio-
nal nature, we cannot at the same time expect the positive formulations of its
precepts—whether written or spoken—to be much more than approxima-
tions. He refers to the example mentioned by Aquinas of not returning a bor-
rowed weapon if one foresees that its lawful owner wants it back in order to
harm another person unjustly. The traditional natural law precept in this case
is simply ‘Return what has been borrowed’, so that we are dealing with an
exception to a natural precept. But Suárez insists that the natural precept as
found in the recta ratio is in fact much more nuanced: “Return what has been
borrowed to the person who rightfully and reasonably demands it, unless some
other reason, like the justifiable self-defence of the state or of oneself or of the
innocent demands otherwise.”44 It is an intuition to which he returns in the
next paragraph, when he says that we often speak of these precepts as if they
were formulated in absolute terms, and then allow the possibility of dispensa-
tions. Instead, he goes on to suggest, we should speak of formulations that do
not express well enough the natural precept as it is in itself. Thus, we would not
be speaking of dispensations but of a change in the circumstances that bring
about a change in the precept’s content, and hence in its demands. Viewed in
this way, the natural law would not oblige us to return the weapon that has
been borrowed, but on the contrary, would prohibit it.45
praecepta ignorari potest; qua ignorantia supposita, potuerunt aliquae gentes introdu-
cere leges contrarias iuri naturae.”
44 Ibid., 2.13.6 (chp, vol. 14, p. 10): “Unde ulterius considerandum est legem naturalem, cum
per se non sit scripta in tabulis vel membranis, sed in mentibus, non semper dictari in
mente illis verbis generalibus vel indefinitis quibus a nobis ore profertur vel scribitur, ut v.g.
lex de reddendo deposito quatenus naturalis, non ita simpliciter et absolute in mente iudi-
catur, sed cum limitatione et circumspectione. Dictat enim ratio reddendum esse deposi-
tum iure et rationabiliter petenti vel nisi ratio defensionis iustae vel reipublicas vel propria
vel innocentis obstet. Communiter autem solet illa lex illis tantum verbis proferri.”
45 Ibid., 2.13.7 (chp, vol. 14, p. 11): “Alia vero sunt quae ex parte materiae mutationes recipere
possunt, et ideo limitationem vel quasi exceptionem admittant unde saepe loquimur
de his praeceptis ac si essent proposita per absoluta verba sub quibus patiuntur exceptio-
nem, quia non satis declarant ipsum praeceptum naturale prout in se est. Sic enim
He returns to the same idea in the chapter where he speaks of the possibility
of epikeia in the natural law. Thus, he adds that many precepts of the natural
law need lengthy explanations and interpretations to arrive at their true mean-
ing, both when they are considered in themselves, and when they are expressed
in positive laws.
Another way of looking at the same problem, Suárez continues, is to say that
the natural law can demand an action only if it is good, and cannot prohibit
anything that is not bad. However, the goodness or malice of human acts
depends to a large extent on the circumstances and the concrete possibilities
in which they are performed. All this leads to the same conclusion, namely, the
need for serious interpretation of what we usually call the precepts of the nat-
ural law (De leg., 2.16.6).46
Suárez himself puts forward the example of the precept prohibiting homi-
cide, which at first glance looks like a clear example of a natural law precept.
However, experience tells us that what is not so evident is precisely what
is meant here by the word ‘homicide’. For example, the natural law does not
prohibit homicide carried out in self-defence, or by a competent authority
(De leg., 2.16.6).
Thus, his position is much less rigid than it may seem at first glance: while
not even God can dispense from natural law precepts, we are not really sure we
know the exact content of these precepts, hence we need to give much more
weight to the circumstances in establishing what the natural law actually is.
For the judgement of the recta ratio, considered in itself and as a true practical
norm, always includes particular circumstances, so that it can never be inade-
quate. Otherwise, such a judgement would not be true, and would therefore be
neither necessary nor right, nor would it contain a natural precept.47
13 Change ex parte obiecti
There are still, however, certain facts that Suárez’s theory does not yet seem to
explain satisfactorily. How can he reconcile the exceptions to the natural law
praeceptum in se spectatum nullam exceptionem patitur, quia ratio ipsa naturalis dictat
hoc debere fieri tali vel tali modo et non aliter, vel concurrentibus talibus circumstantiis
et non absque illis. Immo, interdum mutatis circumstantiis, non solum non obligat natu-
rale praeceptum ad faciendum aliquid, v.g. ad reddendum depositum, sed etiam obligat
ad non faciendum.”
46 chp, vol. 14, pp. 82–83.
47 De leg., 2.16.9 (chp, vol. 14, p. 87): “Dictamen rectae rationis secundum se spectatum et ut
practice verum non fertur in universale, prout potest deficere, sed prout his circumstantiis
294 Paul Pace
found in the Bible or admitted by the Church’s practice and teaching (e.g., dis-
pensation from vows, or from natural law impediments to marriage) with his
repeated affirmations about the absolute immutability of the natural law?
While rejecting his predecessors’ solutions, he develops an aspect of the
scholastic tradition: all change, says Suárez, that cannot be attributed to our
inexact knowledge of the natural law precepts ought to be posited in the object
of the law and never in the law itself.48 He develops this very meticulously in
Chapters 13 to 16 of Book 2, the very chapters where he rejects all the theories
that accept any change in the natural law.
In Chapter 13, confronted with the formidable authority of Aristotle and
Aquinas, who admitted that the natural law precepts can change or admit
exceptions in paucioribus, Suárez argues that this statement is based on an
insufficiently rigorous use of the term ‘change’. Accordingly, Suárez explains
that any relation can change or cease to exist in one of two ways: either through
intrinsic change, as when a father is no longer a father because he dies, or
through extrinsic change, where the change occurs in the other partner, for
instance, when a father is no longer a father because of the death of his son.
Intrinsic change is only possible in positive law, since natural law, Suárez insists,
can only undergo extrinsic change, i.e., when, through a change that occurs in
an object, it no longer falls under the law. Thus, it is not the law that has ceased
to oblige, but the object has been removed from under the law’s domain.49
In Chapter 15 Suárez speaks of dispensation by God Himself, the author of
human nature, and distinguishes between God as the supreme legislator, as
the supreme lord of all creation, and as supreme judge (De leg., 2.15.19). It is
only the legislator who can dispense from his own laws, but such an act would
involve God in a contradiction. However, acting as supreme lord of all creation,
God can change the object of the law so that the law no longer applies in that
particular case. Strictly speaking, this would not be a dispensation, but rather
an exercise of the divine lordship over all creation.50
affectum, cum quibus numquam deficit. Alias non esset dictamen verum et consequenter
nec necessariun, nec rectum, nec praeceptum naturale continens.”
48 It is interesting to note that Aquinas himself presents this explanation (st II-I, q. 94, a. 5,
ad 2), but only after having said in the corpus of the same article that the natural law
“potest immutari in aliquo particulari, et in paucioribus.”
49 De leg., 2.13.6 (chp, vol. 14, p. 9) “In lege autem naturali immo sed solum secundo modo
per mutationem materiae contingit, ut actio subtrahatur ab obligatione legis naturalis.”
50 De leg., 2.16.19 (chp, v. 14, p. 63): “Nam si per dominium suum mutet humanum, hoc non
erit dispensare sed tollere materiam legis, ut ex superioribus constat. Quoties ergo Deus
facit licitum actum qui iure naturae videbatur prohibitus, numquam id facit ut purus
legislator, sed utendo alia potestate; et ideo non dispensat.”
Thus, Abraham was not dispensed from observing the fifth commandment
when God ordered him to sacrifice Isaac: as the supreme lord of life and death,
God decided to use Abraham as his instrument in the death of Isaac. Likewise,
God did not dispense the Hebrews from the seventh commandment when he
allowed them to plunder the Egyptians, but he either transferred the property
of the Egyptians to the Hebrews as supreme lord of all creation, or, as supreme
judge, he decreed they should be so compensated for their years of work in
Egypt (De leg., 2.15.20).
This change is not possible in all the commandments, however, since not
even God can alter the object of certain natural law precepts. Such is the case,
for example, with the first commandment prohibiting idolatry, or with the
other two precepts of the first table of the Decalogue, whose object not even
God himself can change (De leg., 2.15.22–23).
In some cases, this change is also possible for human agents. A king can
order one of his citizens not to help his father who is in grave need, in order
that the citizen be used to defend his country. On the other hand, no human
authority can grant to anyone, for instance, the right to marry an already mar-
ried woman, which is something that God, according to Suárez, can do, and in
fact did, as in the case of Hosea (De leg., 2.15.21).
14 Conclusion
As Suárez would put it, at the end of this analytical part there seems little
need to add much more. Yet it seems that the current discussion on natural
law can certainly benefit from the input of Suárez’s thought. To contemporary
sensibilities, the tension in this tradition seems to be between the advantage
of a rational basis for moral reasoning and the inflexibility associated with
natural law. Thus, the universality of human rational nature has been the
basis of innumerable claims of corresponding universally valid moral pre-
cepts, something modern sensibilities for human historicity find so
unacceptable.
Writing precisely four centuries ago, Suárez shows that he was aware of this
issue, and makes use of fine analytical skills and his encyclopedic knowledge
to arrive at conclusions that contribute important insights to our present-day
discussions.
From the self-evident primary rational law precepts, he can conclude that
the human person can be called a ‘law unto himself’, for the natural law pre-
cept is written in the liber vivus that is the human heart. However, it is not
enough to content ourselves with the obviously true first principles, for the real
296 Paul Pace
challenge is to discover the third-level precepts, where the Natural Law is actu-
ally mostly put into practice.
This emphasis on the inadequate formulations of what we normally con-
sider natural law precepts is also argued logically, and with very concrete
examples. Furthermore, Suárez’s interest in the challenges raised by the indi-
vidual case gave him the more or less merited portrayal as being one of the
fathers of casuistry, a method that seems to be regaining popularity in our radi-
cally pluralistic world.
Within the limitations of an age that was both innovative and shackled with
a very effective censure apparatus, Suárez succeeds in bringing together cer-
tain strands already present in the tradition to support his conclusions on the
inadequacy of the positive formulations of natural law precepts: among the
most important of these features are the importance of each case’s concrete
circumstances, and the reality of an invincible ignorance of certain moral
precepts.
Nevertheless, the limitations of his position are also obvious, especially the
total absence of a historic dimension in his vision of human nature. He lacks
the tools of modern biblical exegesis, so that his solution in terms of change ex
parte obiecti is obviously inadequate.
And yet, it seems fair to claim that by isolating these shortcomings, the basis
of his theory and its relevance still hold; the challenge not to be content with
the first two levels of precepts, but to grapple with the concrete reality of each
particular situation to arrive at the real natural law principle, is still a very valid
one in our own times.
chapter 12
Original Features of Suárez’s Thought1

José Pereira
1 Introduction
Originality is not the first word that comes to mind for many scholars seeking
to describe the achievement of the Doctor eximius. Such, for example, was the
case with of one of his illustrious fellow Jesuits, Gerard Manley Hopkins, one of
the greatest poets of the Victorian era. In a letter to his friend Richard Dixon,
Hopkins declared that “Suárez is our most famous theologian: he is a man of
vast volume of mind, but without originality or brilliancy; he treats everything
satisfactorily, but you never remember a phrase of his, the manner is
nothing.”2
But this opinion is by no means the common view of the Extraordinary or
Uncommon (eximius) Doctor. Giambattista Vico (1668–1744), inaugurator of
the modern philosophy of history, extols Suárez’s brilliancy and eloquence,
asserting that the Doctor “in his Metaphysics discussed everything that could
be known in philosophy in a distinguished manner as becomes a metaphysi-
cian, and in an extremely clear and easy style, as in fact he stands out by his
incomparable eloquence.”3 Likewise, Hugo Grotius (1583–1645), prominent
contributor to the development of international law, was in awe with the acu-
ity of the Doctor’s thinking, contending that Suárez was a man “of such sub-
tlety in philosophy, that he has seldom any equal.”4 Finally, for Christian Wolff
1 The only work of Suárez quoted in this essay is his dm, disputation, section, number (Vivès
edition 1866, volume, page). Thus dm 7.2.3 = disputation 7: section 2: number 3. I was greatly
assisted in understanding Suárez’s complex thought by reading José Hellin, s.j., La analogia
del ser y el conocimiento de Dios en Suárez (Madrid, 1947).
2 Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Letter to Richard Watson Dixon, December 1, 1881,” in Catherine
Phillips, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Selected Letters (Oxford, 1990), p. 165.
3 Giambattista Vico, Autobiografia, ed. Mario Furbini, Einaudi Editore (1960), p. 7: “…ragionava
di tutto lo scibile in filosofia in una maniera eminente, come a metafisico si conviene, e con
uno stile sommamente chiaro e facile, come infatti egli vi spicca con una incomparabil
facondia.”
4 Hugo Grotius, “Letter to Canon John Cordesius, October 15, 1633,” in Epistolae quotquot
reperiri potuerant (Amsterdam, 1687), p. 118: “…in philosophia tantae subtilitatis, ut vix
quemquam habeat parem.”

298 Pereira
(1679–1754), rationalist thinker of the German Enlightenment who was thought

by Kant to be the “greatest of all dogmatic philosophers,” Suárez was evidently
considered the greatest of the scholastic philosophers, for “among the
Scholastics [he] appears to have meditated the objects of metaphysics more
profoundly.”5
2 Systematization of Metaphysics
But did the Uncommon Doctor accomplish any actual achievement that would
justify these plaudits? Martin Heidegger, one of the most influential philoso-
phers of the twentieth century, thought that he did, observing the following:
It is Suarez who for the first time systematized medieval philosophy and
above all ontology. Before him the Middle Ages, including Thomas and
Duns Scotus, treated ancient thought only in commentaries…. The basic
book of antiquity, Aristotle’s Metaphysics, is not a coherent work, being
without systematic structure. Suarez…tried to make up for this lack…by
putting the ontological problems in a systematic form for the first time, a
form which determined a classification of metaphysics that lasted
through the subsequent centuries down to Hegel.6
Was the Metaphysics of Aristotle not a ‘coherent work,’ lacking in method?

Speaking of this work, Suárez (who believed so) claimed:
Aristotle proposes various questions in Chapter 1, while in other Chapters

he brings out reasons for doubting on both sides, but resolves nothing.
Moreover, in proposing these questions he observes almost no method
nor any certain order, but he seems to have poured them out as they
came to his mind.7
Suárez, on the other hand, was uncompromising on method, declaring:
5 Christian Wolff, Philosophia prima sive Ontologia (1736), p. 138: “Sane Franciscus Suarez…inter
Scholasticos res metaphysicas profundius meditatum esse constat.”
6 Martin Heidegger, The Basic Problems of Phenomenology. Translation, Introduction and
Lexicon by Albert Hofstadter (Bloomington, in, 1982), p. 80.
7 Translation from John P. Doyle, Francisco Suárez. A Commentary on Aristotle’s Metaphysics
(Milwaukee, wi, 2004), p. 21.
Original Features of Suárez’s Thought 299
I have always considered that a great power to understand and to pen-

etrate things is based upon inquiring and judging them by a fitting
method, which [method] I could scarcely, or not even scarcely, observe,
if in the manner of commentators, I were to treat all questions as they
by the way and by chance occur in relation to the text of the
Philosopher….8
Concern for method, moreover, was what prompted Suárez to drop the medi-
eval habit of doing philosophy as a commentary on other men’s thought.
Yet not all scholars believe that the structural coherence of Aristotle’s
Metaphysics “is as questionable as has often been made out.”9 Laying bare the
structures of both the Metaphysics and the Disputationes metaphysicae will
speak for itself.
Aristotle, Metaphysics, 14 Books
Introduction to philosophy
1. Alpha. The theory of explanation (Wisdom)

2. Alpha the less. Remarks on philosophic procedures (Inquiry)
3. Beta. Typical problems in general philosophy (Impasses)
The province of philosophy
4. Gamma. Being and knowledge (The study of Being as Being)

5. Delta. Definition of terms (Things meant in more than one way)
6. Epsilon. First philosophy and irrelevant ways of Being (Primary and
derivative kinds of being)
Being and becoming
7. Zeta. The search for primary being (Thinghood and form)

8. Eta. The unity of matter and form (Form and Being-at-work)
9. Theta. Powers and operations (potency and Being-at-work)
10. Iota. Unity and derivative concepts (wholeness)
8 Ibid., p. 53.
9 Hugh Lawson Tancred, Aristotle Metaphysics. Translated with an Introduction (London, 1998),
p. xxxix.
300 Pereira
Philosophical excerpts
11.
Kappa. Repetitions and quotations (from Metaphysics and from
Physics. Order)
Eternal being
12. Lambda. Divine Being (The cause of being)

13. Mu. Mathematical entities and the ideas (The being of intelligible things)
14. Nu. Numbers, ideas, and first principles (intelligible being and causes)10
The following is a clearer summation:
Books 1–3: on the historical background, the method to be followed, and

the problems to be resolved.
Books 4–6: setting out the general nature of the subject, providing a bud-
get of definitions of key terms, and dealing with an aspect of the subject
that, though important, is secondary to our present interests.
Books 7–10: in which doctrine (or doctrines) of substance is (or are) pre-
sented, and two key supporting contrasts of potentiality-actuality and
unity-diversity are explored.
Book 11: consisting of recapitulations of material from earlier books of
the Metaphysics and from the Physics (book Kappa).
Finally, books 12–14: which deal with two major corollaries of the central
position, one covering Aristotelian theology, and the other on the phi-
losophy of mathematics in relation to the Theory of Forms.11
Though the order is clear perhaps, it is still less than perfect, which is how this
seminal work of metaphysics is characterized even by a scholar who believes
in the work’s coherence:
If the Metaphysics is a building, it is still covered in scaffolding, with gaps

in its plaster and decoration and even with key structural elements
10 Cf. the following works for a discussion of the method in the Metaphysics: Richard Hope,
trans., Aristotle, Metaphysics (Ann Arbor, mi, 1960). The above classification is chiefly that
of Joe Sachs Hope, Aristotle’s Metaphysics (Santa Fe, nm, 1999). His classifications are in
parentheses.
11 Hugh Lawson Tancred, Aristotle Metaphysics. Translated with an Introduction (London,
1998).
tottering insecurely on makeshift supports. But for all that, it is still more
like a palace or a cathedral than the workshop or warehouse as which it
has so often been treated.12
In Suárez’s huge, two-volume work, the Disputationes metaphysicae, all his

metaphysical speculation is reduced to a simple scheme:13 being as such
(vol. 1), and particular beings (vol. 2), as uncreated and created being, and sub-
stance and accident. This material is organized into fifty-four disputations,
twenty-seven in each volume, arranged in five sections. The entire work of over
two thousand pages is reputed to contain 1.4 million words. Its consonance of
literary form and logical structure exemplifies the author’s architectonic sense
and phenomenal erudition, with its reference to 245 authors and its 7,709 cita-
tions, including those from Aristotle (1,735) and Aquinas (1,008).
Suárez, Disputationes metaphysicae, 2 volumes
Vol. 1. BEING AS SUCH (disputations 1–27)

1. Nature of metaphysics (1)
2. Essential significance of being (2)
3. Passions of being (3–11)
Unity vs. distinction (4–7)
Truth vs. falsehood (8–9)
Good vs. evil (10–11)
4. Causes of being (12–25)
Material (13–14)
Formal (15–16)
12 Hugh Lawson Tancred, op. cit., p. lii.

13 dm (ed. Vivès, vol. 25): “Ratio et discursus totius operis. Ad lectorem: Illud vero obiectum
[metaphysicae] quodnam sit, explanat prima huius operis disputatio, simulque in ea
praefamur dignitatem, utilitatem, et caetera quae in proemiis scientiarum scriptores pre-
termittere consueverunt. Deinde in priori tomo eiusdem obiecti amplissima et univer-
salissima ratio, qua, videlicet appellatur ens, eiusque proprietates et causae diligenter
expenduntur. Et in hac causarum contemplatione, latius quam fieri soleat immoratus
sum, quod et perdifficilem illam, et ad omnem philosophiam et theologiam utilissimam
esse existimaverim. In tomo autem altero inferiores eiusdem obiecti rationes prosecuti
sumus, initio sumpto ab illa entis divisione in creatum et creatorem, utpote quae prior
est, et entis quidditati vicinior, et ad huius doctrinae decursum aptior, qui subinde pro-
cedit per contentas sub his partitiones, ad usque genera omnia, et gradus entis, qui intra
huius scientiae terminis seu limites continentur.”
302 Pereira
Efficient, including the First Cause, in its three opera-

tions: creation, conservation, cooperation (17–22)
Final (23–24)
Exemplary (25)
5. Comparison of causes (26–27)
To the effect (26)
Among themselves (27)
Vol. 2. DIVISIONS OF BEING (28–54)

1. Finite and infinite being (28)
2. Infinite being (29–30)
Whether it is (29)
What it is (30)
3. Finite being: as such (31)
4. Finite being’s divisions: substance and accident (32–38)
Substance (33–36)
Accident (37–38)
5. Accident: nine predicaments (39–53)
Quality (40–41)
Quantity (42–46)
Relation (47)
Action (48)
Passion (49)
When (50)
Where (51)
Site (52)
Habit (53)
Supplement: being of reason (54)
The Disputationes metaphysicae is perhaps the most extensive metaphysical

treatise ever written. It is also (excepting Aristotle’s work) the first tract in the
entire field of metaphysics that reflects the speculation of its own author, and
not that of another thinker, in our case Aristotle.
Partial attempts had been made earlier to systematize metaphysics apart
from commentary, such as the attempts made by the Dominican Giovanni
Crisostomo Javelli (1488–1550), compiler of a compendium of philosophy, and
by the Dominican Diego Mas (1553–1608), author of a “Metaphysical
Disputation” on being and three transcendentals (unity, truth, and goodness).
But these essays covered only a portion of the entire field of metaphysics, and
when they did cover this field, they did not venture beyond the text of Aristotle,
which they interpreted through commentary. Completing what these

Renaissance philosophers had begun, Suárez produced a work that embraced
all of metaphysics, and was also free of commentary. With the Disputationes,
the period of medieval philosophy ends and the modern era begins.
3 Creation of a Super-System
Besides being the first systematization of metaphysics, Suárez’s is also the only
scholastic system wherein a single author integrated his own methodically
structured philosophy and theology into a single architectonic composite—
which can be described as a ‘super-system’—with the former being made the
foundation of the latter. The three medieval titans—Bonaventure, Aquinas,
and Scotus, otherwise known as the ‘Big Three’—had orchestrated their the-
ologies, and may have intended to methodize their philosophies too, but were
prevented from doing so by the brevity of their lives, Bonaventure living to be
only fifty-four, Aquinas forty-nine, and Scotus forty-two (Suárez, in contrast,
lived to be sixty-nine). Thus, the task of composing uniform syntheses of their
philosophies and theologies was left to the successors of the three titans, the
Baroque super-system creators such as the Bonaventurian Marcus a Baudunio
(c. 1606–1692, Paradisus philosophicus, 1654; Paradisus theologicus, 1661), the
Thomist John of St. Thomas (1589–1644, Cursus philosophicus thomisticus, 1638;
Cursus theologicus thomisticus, 1667), and the Scotist Joannes Poncius (1603–
1673, Philosophiae ad mentem Scoti cursus integer, 1643; Theologiae cursus inte-
ger ad mentem Scoti, 1652). These successors were themselves men of genius,
and did indeed produce works of high calibre, but they were not the creators
of the three systems, and were furthermore conditioned by philosophical
backgrounds and concerns often alien to the initiators of those systems.
Systematization was the preoccupation of Suárez, and likewise of the entire
Baroque age. His Opera Omnia (published by Vivès, containing most, but not
all, of his writings) is not a collection of random and heterogeneous essays,
written in response to particular (and often unconnected) problems, but is
made up of units of discourse organized in a complete system, each unit
assigned its place in the total architectonic structure. The Opera Omnia has
fourteen books, printed in twenty-six volumes, containing 4,212 sections and
22,365 pages, totalling in all, it is said, to twenty-one million words! Suárez is
thus the author of what appears to be the most titanic enterprise undertaken
by any single individual in the history of speculative thought.
In consequence of all this, one may argue that Suarezianism is scholasti-
cism’s definitive system. A system like Suárez’s could only have arisen if there
304 Pereira
was in existence an intellect of phenomenal erudition, capable of viewing, in

a single lens, scholasticism’s entire development (still evolving in medieval
times), especially in its Augustinian, Bonaventurian, Thomist, Scotist, and
Nominalist modalities; that intellect, in addition, would have to be endowed
with the requisite dispassionateness to adjudicate on the School’s many doc-
trines, appreciate their complex nuances, control their intricate detail, and
harmonize their conflicting positions, while discerning a comprehensively
simple structure beneath them, and while being the only intellect capable of
surveying the problems and resources of two millennia of speculation: and if
such an intellect was that of Francisco Suárez, the Uncommon Doctor, then
Suarezianism can be said to be scholasticism’s definitive system.
4 Being as a Unitary Dyad
What distinctive positions did the Uncommon Doctor hold? We shall not
attempt to list them all here, but shall concentrate on his ideas on being (ens),
a theme of supreme importance for his theology and philosophy—indeed, for
all thought. He is particularly concerned with highlighting the unity of being.
Being encompasses the duality of essence and existence. Philosophers,
however, tend to emphasize one or the other; Suárez, for his part, identifies
being categorically and consistently with existence, and not with essence. But
his is an existence inclusive of essence, so that Suarezianism can be described
not just as ‘existentialism,’ but as ‘existential integralism.’ The following are
some of the Doctor’s frequent ‘existential’ statements:
• “Existence as existence corresponds to being as such, and pertains its intrin-

sic significance, either in potency or in act, depending on how one considers
being” (Existentia ut existentia correspondet enti ut sic, estque de intrinseca
ratione eius, vel in potentia, vel in actu, prout sumptum fuerit ens).14
• “being and existence are the same” (esse enim et existere idem sunt).15
• “being as being is described by existence, and has the significance of being
either through existence, or by reference to existence” (ens in quantum ens
ab esse dictum est, et per esse vel per ordinem ad esse habet rationem entis).16
• “every real entity is constituted in some real existence, since being is
described through existence, and real being through real existence” (omnis
14 dm 50.12.15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 969).

entitas realis constituitur aliquo esse reali, cum ens ab esse dicatur, et ens reale
ab esse reali).17
• “existence is coterminous with being, since being is described through exis-
tence. Hence, just as being does not belong to any particular genus, but tran-
scends all the predicaments, so too does existence” (esse aeque patet ac
ipsum ens, cum ens ab esse dictum sit; unde, sicut ens non pertinet ad certum
genus, sed transcendit omnia praedicamenta, ita et esse).18
• “[the act of existing] is so to speak formal in the concept of being” ([actus
essendi] est veluti formale in conceptu entis).19
Existence for Suárez is trichotomous: actual, aptitudinal, and possible. It is

described, respectively, by three terms: participial, nominal, and potential.
1. Actual existence. Being as a participle or participially considered (ens ut

participium vel participialiter sumptum): it signifies “the act of existing, as
exercised, and is the same as existing in reality” (actum essendi, ut exer-
citum, estque idem quod existens actu). 20
2. Aptitudinal or precisive existence. Being as a noun or nominally considered
(ens ut nomen vel nominaliter sumptum): it signifies, “in a formal sense, the
essence of a thing which has or can have existence, and can be said to sig-
nify existence itself, not as actually exercised, but in potency or aptitude”
([significat] de formali essentiam eius rei, quae habet vel potest habere esse,
et potest dici significare ipsum esse, non ut exercitum actu, sed in potentia vel
aptitudine).21 Another term for aptitudinal existence is essentia realis.
3. Possible or potential existence, which also signifies “real being, insofar as it
has real essence, contracted and determined not by anything positive,
but by the privation of actual existence” (reale ens, quantum ad realem
essentiam, contractum et determinatum non per aliquod positivum, sed per
privationem actualis existentiae).22
Of these three concepts, only the first two, the actual and the aptitudinal, are
immediately signified by the term ‘being’ (the third concept is a compound of
two notions, namely, existence + negation of its actual exercise).

21 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 88).
306 Pereira
In developing his ideas on being, Suárez adopts the following threefold

methodology:
1. The asymmetry between reality and the conceptual knowledge of it. The
manner in which the human mind knows reality does not correspond to
the way reality exists in itself. The content of reality is too complex for the
mind to grasp in a single concept, so it needs multiple concepts, which
together can attain objective reality more adequately.23 To act as if reality
and the way of knowing it correspond exactly is to reify concepts, objec-
tify conceptual distinctions, and so split reality into a composite of innu-
merable fictitious entities.24 Suárez seeks to avoid the fallacy of reified
concepts,25 in order to resolve metaphysical problems by transfering
their projected solutions from the extramental level to the intramental,
from ontology to epistemology, which is where those problems arose in
the first place.
2. Difference-in-identity: real distinction, conceptual unity; conceptual distinc-
tion, real unity. In accordance with the mind-reality asymmetry, real distinc-
tion can cohere with conceptual unity, and real unity with conceptual
distinction.26 Distinction rises from identity, and identity from distinction.
23 Ibid., 7.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 251): “At vero posterior distinctio rationis fit per conceptus
indaequatos eiusdem rei; nam, licet per utrumque eadem res concipiatur, per neutrum
tamen exacte concipitur totum id quod est in re, neque exhauritur tota quidditas et ratio
obiectiva eius, quod saepe fit concipiendo rem illam per habitudinem ad res diversas, vel
ad modum earum, et ideo talis distinctio semper habet fundamentum in re, formaliter
autem dicetur fieri per conceptus inadaequatos eiusdem rei.”
24 Ibid., 2.3.11 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 85): “…possunt ex subtilitate et modo concipiendi humani
intellectus hi conceptus superiores et inferiores infinitis modis variari et multiplicari; sig-
num ergo est, id non semper fundari in distinctione quae sit in rebus, sed in modo conci-
piendi nostro, supposito aliquo fundamento similitudinis, convenientiae, et eminentiae
ipsarum rerum; aliquo oporteret fingere in unaquaque re infinitos modos ex natura rei
distinctos, quibus in se plane constituatur, et ab aliis plene distinguatur.”
25 Ibid., 2.3.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 86): “…cavendum est ne modum concipiendi nostrum
transferamus ad res ipsas, et propter diversum loquendi modum existimemus esse dis-
tinctionem in rebus, ubi vere non est.”
26 Ibid., 2.3.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 87): “…si distinctio et convenientia sint diversorum ordi-
num, non repugnat in eodem fundari; sic enim una non involvit negationem alterius, imo
quodammodo illam requirit. Ita vero est in praesenti; nam distinctio est realis, convenien-
tia autem secundum rationem tantum, et ideo non repugnat ut duo simplicia, quae
secundum rem sunt realiter primo diversa, secundum rationem habeant unitatem funda-
tam in reali similitudine vel convenientia, quam inter se habent.”
3. Conceptual focus: the expansion and contraction of the concept so as to

cover its entire range. This entails facilitating the fixing of attention on a
being both broadly and narrowly: broadly on the basis of its similitude
with other beings, and narrowly on the basis of the same being known in
itself, in its particularity and singular character. Thus, being is both undi-
vided and divided, though in concept and not reality.27
Suárez applies this methodology to three notions distinctive of his thought:
1. The transcendental notion of being apart from its particulars—being as

a unitary dyad;
2. The notion of being and its particulars—expressior conceptus;
3. Order among the particulars—analogy.
For Suárez, being has unity, but immanent in this unity is a duality whose
members—that is, nominal and participial—are complementary and not con-
trastive. As the Uncommon Doctor categorically puts it, “‘being’ does not sig-
nify a concept common to being nominally and participially considered, but
immediately has a double significance, whereby it signifies either being that
prescinds from actual existence, or being existent in actual fact.”28 In this way,
the unity of being is emphasized at the expense of the contrastive duality of
essence and existence.
Thus, being is both unitary and dichotomous, a ‘unitary dyad’ or ‘dyadic
unity,’ so to speak. Though complementary to nominal being, participial (or
existential) being has the preeminence, for “being first appears to signify a
thing having real and actual existence, as the participle of the verb ‘to be,’ and
27 Ibid., 2.6.10 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 101): “…consistat in cognitione aliquo modo confusa, qua
consideratur objectum, non distincte et determinate prout est in re, sed secundum ali-
quam similitudinem vel convenientiam quam cum aliis habet, quae convenientia in
ordine ad conceptum entis est in rebus secundum totas entitates et modos reales earum,
et ideo confusio seu praecisio talis conceptus non est per separationem praecisivam
unius gradus ab alio, sed solum per cognitionem praecisivam conceptus confusi a dis-
tincto et determinato.”
28 Ibid., 2.4.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 90): “…illam duplicem acceptionem non significare dupli-
cem rationem entis dividentem aliquam communem rationem, seu conceptum commu-
nem, sed significare conceptum entis magis vel minus praecisum. Ita ergo ens non
significat conceptum communem enti nominalter et participialiter sumpto, sed immedi-
ate habet duplicem significationem, qua significat vel ens praescindendo ab actuali exis-
tentia, vel ens actu existens.”
308 Pereira
thence that word is in fact transferred to signify precisely that which has real
essence”29 (indicated by the nominal form of ‘to be’).
The discussion on being can be further clarified by another dichotomy of
concepts, namely, formal concepts, which concern what we know of a thing
(for example, a man), and objective concepts, which apply to the thing itself
that we know (that is, the man himself). The objective concept is not really a
concept, but is so described “by extrinsic denomination from the formal con-
cept.”30 The formal concept, “insofar as it comes to be by us and in us, could be
better known to experience” (formalis [conceptus], quatenus a nobis et in nobis
fit, videatur posse experientia notior)31 than the objective concept. Suárez
asserts, as a universal principle, “that to the one formal concept one objective
concept corresponds” (uni conceptui formali unus conceptus obiectivus respon-
det).32 The formal concept of being is one,33 hence the objective concept is
one, as well.34
5 Conceptual Focusing: Expressior Conceptus
Conceptual focusing resolves the apparent antinomy between the dyadic and
unitary character of being: it is the element that interrelates them. Suárez also
employs this method to resolve problems otherwise explained through entita-
tive units that are no more than reified concepts. Indeed, our knowledge is not
one of reality pure and simple, but rather of our (based-on-reality) knowledge
itself.35
29 Ibid., 2.4.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 90): “Primo enim ens significare videtur rem habentem
esse reale et actuale, tanquam participium verbi essendi; inde vero translata est illa vox ad
praecise significandum id quod habet essentiam realem.”
33 Ibid., 2.1.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 68): “…dicendum est, conceptum formalem proprium et
adaequatum entis ut sic esse unum, re et ratione praecisum ab aliis conceptibus formali-
bus alarum rerum et obiectorum.”
34 Ibid., 2.2.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 72): “Dico ergo primo: conceptui formali entis respondere
unum conceptum obiectivum adaequatum et immediatum, qui expresse non dicit sub-
stantiam neque accidens, nec Deum nec creaturam, sed haec omnia per modum unius,
scilicet quatenus sunt inter se aliquo modo similia vel conveniunt in essendo.”
35 Ibid., 7.1.15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 255): “…essentia rei non definitur a nobis prout est in re,
sed prout a nobis concipitur.”
Concepts are generally interrelated through composition, where two con-

cepts, a unifier and a diversifier, together define an entity, e.g., ‘rational animal’
or ‘man.’ Here we have a unifier, or common concept (e.g., the genus ‘animal’),
and a diversifier, or differentiating concept (e.g., the differentia ‘rational’).
Suárez has little use for the genus and differentia method while discussing
being. Unprecedentedly, he puts aside composition and unites unifier and
diversifier, thus claiming that what unites diversifies. The diversity of ideas had
been produced by a diversity of concepts, but now it is produced by a unifier
concept. This method, distinctive of Suárez’s thought, is what we have called
conceptual focusing. Here, the common concept (being) both unifies and diver-
sifies, but in two modes, the confusive and the determinative. In its confusive or
unifying mode, the common concept is conceived only confusedly, inasmuch
as it has some conformity with other things; in its express or determinative
mode, however, it is more expressly conceived, inasmuch as it exists in itself.36
Suárez illustrates conceptual focusing by the examples of quantity and heat.
The concept of ‘quantity,’ he explains, includes all kinds of quantities, without
exception, though these different kinds (bicubital, tricubital, etc.) add nothing
to the concept of quantity itself; they only express more distinctly what was
indistinctly contained in the common concept. Similarly, varying degrees of
heat (eight degrees, ten degrees, etc.) add nothing to the idea of heat as such,
but only make it more explicit, in specific cases.37
The unity of the concept of being is imperfect, for it includes all its differ-
ences in an indeterminate manner, and as these are most diverse, the notion of
being is verified in them with the same diversity.
36 Ibid., 2.6.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 101): “Quod in ordine ad conceptus formales recte explica-
tur: differunt enim solum quia per unum expressius concipitur res prout est in se quam
per alium, quo solum confuse concipitur et praecise secundum aliquam convenientiam
cum aliis rebus; hoc autem totum fieri potest sine propria compositione per solam cogni-
tionem confusam vel distinctam, praecisam vel determinatam.”
37 Ibid., 2.6.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 101): “Praterea, hunc modum abstractionis et determina-
tionis intellectualis esse possibilem, probatur exemplis; nam cum dividimus quantitatem
in bicubitam, tricubitam, etc., non potest intelligi, quod conceptus bicubitae quantitatis
resolvatur in conceptum quantitatis et bicubiti, quia impossibile est concipere bicubitum
non concepta quantitate; signum ergo est, illos duos conceptus solum distingui, sicut
expressum et confusum. Idem fere est in conceptu caloris et caloris ut octo, cuius signum
etiam est, quod conceptus communis caloris non solum includitur in toto calore ut octo,
sed etiam in singulis gradibus eius; cum ergo dicitur calor ut octo, non additur modus
distinctus faciens compositionem cum calore ut sic, sed exprimitur et concipitur calor,
prout est in se.”
310 Pereira
6 Climax of Being: Analogy
How do we pass from the unitary concept of being to its particulars, infinitely
diverse as they are? In short, Suárez’s answer is: by univocation and analogy.
Both have a unitary concept of being, and for some philosophers this fact alone
suffices for extending univocation to the totality of beings.38 The univocal con-
cept either does not implicitly contain its particulars and is combined with
them through composition, or it implicitly does contain them, and makes
them more vivid through conceptual focusing. The meaning of univocals is not
derived from that of others of their kind.
But in analogy we have the distinctive condition that we may term depen-
dentiality, the fact of a being deriving its significance (known as ‘attribution’)
from another, that is, of the creatures from God.39 With the existence of God
postulated, ‘dependentiality’ necessarily enters into the picture and rules out
univocation.
In analogy, we arrive at the height of Suárez’s conception of difference in
identity. On the one hand, we have the ultimate unitary concept, the notion of
being, while on the other hand, we have the ultimate diversity concept, the
Creator and the creatures; thus, the ultimate diversity originates from the ulti-
mate unity. The Creator, by His very being and not by anything added, is being
by essence, is infinite and the fountain of all being; creatures, too, by their
being and nothing besides that, are being by participation and exist through
dependentiality.40
Thus, the very dependential structure of the universe makes it analogical.
As Suárez declares:
this analogy of being is entirely founded on and arises from the things
theselves, which are subordinate in such a way, that they necessarily
relate to the One insofar as they are beings. Hence it was not possible to
38 Ibid., 28.3.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 13): “…[for these philosophers] ens immediate significat
conceptum unum communem Deo et creaturis; ergo non dicitur de illis analogice, sed
univoce.”
39 Ibid., 28.3.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 18): “…analogia seu attributio, quam creatura sub ratione
entis potest habere ad Deum, sit…fundata in proprio et intrinseco esse habente essen-
tialem habitudinem seu dependentiam ad Deum.”
40 Ibid., 28.3.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 15): “…ratio entis, prout in Deo est…includitur essentiali-
ter ipsum esse omnino independens et a se, cum tamen e contrario in creatura, ipsa ratio
entis sit omnino dependens et ab alio, et in unoque ente est limitata ad certum perfectio-
nis genus.”
impose the name of ‘being’ to signify confusedly that which has exis-
tence, without it having to signify many things without a reference to the
One, and it would thus be analogical.41
7 Extramental Reality Confirmed by Intramental Concept
Finally, all this speculation on being displays the power of the mind to under-
stand reality. Suárez himself evoked this power when he declared that the one
formal concept of being would aid us in determining the nature of the latter,
and that we know more about our subjective mental states than we do about
objective reality.42 With these observations, Suárez closes the book of scholas-
ticism, and opens the book of a whole complex of tumultuous subjectivist
systems that would later comprise Modern Philosophy. Here, the Uncommon
Doctor’s transference of the problems from the ontological sphere to the epis-
temological, from the extra- to the intra-mental level, reaches its unexpected
(and unwelcome) fulfilment. At the very start of his metaphysical analysis, the
problem of supreme importance to Suárez was whether the notion of being
was one or many. No solution presented itself on the level of the extra-mental
objective concept, however, so the Doctor had recourse to the principle that
uni conceptui formali unus conceptus obiectivus respondet. Therefore, begin-
ning with the formal concept, Suárez, in a manner previously unknown to the
scholastics, made the intra-mental the judge of the extra-mental—and
indeed, of the most fundamental truth, that of being itself—which was con-
ceived as dependent on an intra-mental formal concept. The latter, he
explains, is more accessible to us than the former, since it is “more known to
us”43 (nobis notius); indeed, this is because it is produced “by us and in us”
(a nobis et in nobis).44
On this principle, Suárez had inferred that as the formal concept of being
was one, the objective concept of being must be one as well. Sometime later, a
41 Ibid., 28.3.22 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 21): “At vero haec analogía entis omnino fundatur et
oritur ex rebus ipsis, quae ita sunt subordinatae, ut necessario ad unum referantur quate-
nus entia sunt, ideoque non potuit nomen entis imponi ad sigificandum confuse quod
habet esse, quin consequemter habuerit significare multa cum habitudine ad unum,
atque ita fuerit analogum.”
42 See my Suárez: Between Scholasticism and Modernity (Milwaukee, wi, 2007).
43 dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65).
312 Pereira
‘disciple of the disciples’ of Suárez was to infer (ergo, ‘therefore’) the truth of an
indubitable extra-mental reality (sum, ‘I am’), from the better-known (notior),
indeed self-evident, intra-mental consciousness, expressed as a mental state
(cogito, ‘I think’). Thus, it appears that the little word ‘notior-notius’ was the
minuscule spark that was to ignite the immense conflagration of modern
philosophy.
8 Sequel
Suárez, the Uncommon Doctor, is one of the great anomalies in the history of
thought: one thinker embodying two contrary roles, each reversing the other.
On the one hand, he fulfilled the role of being the consummator of one phase
of philosophical speculation, namely, the realist and scholastic; on the other
hand, however, he was the initiator (though an unwitting one) of another
phase, the idealist, modern, and nihilist. The shift from realism to idealism,
moreover, was crucial in Western philosophy, initiating an era of irrepressible,
if chaotic, creativity.
Thus, on the one side, ‘cosmos,’ he was the climax of a tradition that was
over a millennium old, embodied in the most massive work of systematics in
the history of speculation, the twenty-one million word Suarezian synthesis;
on the other side, ‘chaos,’ he gave rise to a plethora of systems and non-systems
in a mad sequence of innovations and novelties, each appearing to cancel out
all the others, all seemingly hurtling toward the black holes of scepticism, anti-
realism, relativism, and nihilism itself. At all events, the thought of these
men—starting with Descartes and ending with Nietzsche—was in one way or
another affected by that of Suárez, who, besides being the consummate scho-
lastic, was “perhaps more authentically than Descartes the founder of modern
philosophy.”45
45 Alasdair MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Inquiry (Notre Dame, in, 1990), p. 73.
chapter 13
Suárez’s Doctrine of Concepts

How Divine and Human Intellection are Intertwined
Michael Renemann
1 Introduction
For any scholastic philosopher, divine and human intellection are deeply
intertwined. After all, God knows things before man does, and even before
they exist. This makes God’s knowledge the model for human knowledge.
The main difficulty with respect to God’s knowledge is how to reconcile His
independence and simplicity with His knowledge of a plurality of things. The
way in which a scholastic philosopher handles this difficulty determines how
divine intellection works, and, consequently, how human intellection works.
What might be surprising for a modern reader is that, as a corollary to the
mechanism described above, things do not have the same absoluteness as in
modern philosophy. We cannot doubt the knowability of things, since this
knowability is intrinsic to them, due to the fact that they are known by God
prior to their creation. This shows how important it is to take into account the
theological context of Suárez’s doctrine of concepts.
Suárez examines the traditional positions on this matter very closely, in
order to develop his own solution. From the many positions that are important
for him, in the first half of this chapter I will present those of Thomas Aquinas,
John Duns Scotus, and William of Ockham, corresponding to the Thomist,
Scotist, and Nominalist schools. The second half is then dedicated to Suárez’s
own solution.
2 Thomas Aquinas
Thomas manages to reconcile God’s independence and simplicity with His

knowledge of all things by introducing a hierarchy of knowledge: God primar-
ily knows Himself, and knows creatures only by seeing in His own essence the
ways in which this essence could be imitated:
The one first form, to which all others can be reduced, is the divine
essence considered in itself. From this consideration, the divine
intellect invents (adinvenit), so to say, different modes of imitation

314 Renemann
(modi imitationis) of His essence, and in these modes consists the

plurality of ideas.1
Henry of Ghent will later coin the term respectus imitabilitatis (respects of imi-
tability). In other words, there is only one cognitive act, but as the object of this
act is the divine essence, which is the ultimate cause of all things, all things are
cognized in this act as well:
It is necessary that God knows things other than Himself. Because it is

manifest that He knows Himself perfectly, otherwise His being would not
be perfect, as His being is His knowing. But for something to be known
perfectly, it is necessary that its power (virtus) is known perfectly. But the
power of a thing cannot be known perfectly, unless those to which the
power extends are known. Therefore, as the divine power extends itself to
other things, insofar as it is the first effective cause of all beings, it is nec-
essary that God knows things other than Himself.2
This description creates the impression that one’s cognitive relation has
only two elements: the act of thought and its object. This is not entirely accu-
rate, however, since each act of cognition also involves the production of an
intentio intellecta, which becomes especially apparent in the case of human
cognition:
I call intentio intellecta that which the intellect conceives in itself of

the thing known. In us, this can be neither the thing known itself nor
the substance of the intellect. Rather, it is some similarity of the thing,
conceived by the intellect (similitudo concepta intellectu de re intellecta).
1 Thomas de Aquino, De veritate, q. 3, a. 2, ad 6: “…una prima forma, ad quam omnia reducun-

tur, est ipsa divina essentia secundum se considerata; ex cuius consideratione intellectus
divinus adinvenit, ut ita dicam, diversos modos imitationis ipsius, in quibus pluralitas
idearum consistit.” Cf. Wolfgang Hübener, “Idea extra artificem. Zur Revisionsbedürftigkeit
von Erwin Panofskys Deutung der mittelalterlichen Kunsttheorie,” in Festschrift für Otto von
Simson, ed. L. Grisebach and K. Renger (Berlin, 1977), pp. 27–52, at p. 37.
2 Thomas Aquinas, st I, q. 14, a. 5 co.: “…necesse est Deum cognoscere alia a se. Manifestum est
enim quod seipsum perfecte intelligit, alioquin suum esse non esset perfectum, cum suum
esse sit suum intelligere. Si autem perfecte aliquid cognoscitur, necesse est quod virtus eius
perfecte cognoscatur. Virtus autem alicuius rei perfecte cognosci non potest, nisi cognoscan-
tur ea ad quae virtus se extendit. Unde, cum virtus divina se extendat ad alia, eo quod ipsa
est prima causa effectiva omnium entium, necesse est quod Deus alia a se cognoscat.”
Cf. Francisco Suárez, De div. sub. 2.2.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, pp. 196b–197a).
Suárez’s Doctrine Of Concepts 315
Therefore, this intentio is also called ‘inner word’ (verbum interius),

which is signified by the outer word (verbum exterius, sc. the verbal
expression).3
We see here that the formal structure of the cognitive process is identical
for man and God, but in God, all three members of the cognitive relation
are identical,4 whereas in man, the three are usually distinguished: (1) that
which understands (the intellect) is usually not identical with that which
is understood (an external thing), and (2) that which the intellect con-
ceives of the thing known is not identical with the known thing itself. But
also man shares the nobility of intellectual life, which consists in the intel-
lect’s ability to reflect upon itself and understand itself—albeit to a lesser
degree than God, who primarily understands Himself. Intellectual life in
man, however, starts with the cognition of external things.5 But man’s
intellect can reflect upon itself, thereby not only revealing its own nature
(distinction 1), but also the conformity or proportionality between his act
and the thing (distinction 2). All this is achieved in a reflexive act by which
truth becomes known to man (according to the individual intellect’s abil-
ity to reflect upon itself):
It has to be said that truth is in the intellect and in the senses, but not
in the same way. In the intellect, it is in two ways: first, as a consequence
of the intellectual act, and, second, as cognized by the intellect. It fol-
lows the intellect’s operation, insofar as the intellect’s judgment is of
the thing according to what it is (de re secundum quod est). But it is
cognized by the intellect insofar as the intellect reflects upon its act,
thereby not only cognizing its act, but cognizing also its act’s propor-
tion to the thing (proportionem eius ad rem). Now the proportion can-
not be cognized unless the nature of the act is cognized, and the nature
of the act cannot be cognized unless the nature of the active principle
is cognized, i.e. the nature of the intellect, which has the nature to
3 Thomas Aquinas, Summa contra Gentiles, lib. 4, c. 11, n. 6: “Dico autem intentionem intellec-
tam id quod intellectus in seipso concipit de re intellecta. Quae quidem in nobis neque est
ipsa res quae intelligitur; neque est ipsa substantia intellectus; sed est quaedam similitudo
concepta in intellectu de re intellecta, quam voces exteriores significant; unde et ipsa inten-
tio verbum interius nominatur, quod est exteriori verbo significatum.”
4 Ibid., lib. 4, c. 11, n. 5: “Verbum igitur Dei est ipsum esse divinum et essentia eius, et ipse verus
Deus.”
5 Cf. ibid., lib. 4, c. 11, n. 5: “Est igitur supremus et perfectus gradus vitae qui est secundum intel-
lectum: nam intellectus in seipsum reflectitur, et seipsum intelligere potest.”
316 Renemann
conform to things. So the intellect cognizes the truth by reflecting upon

itself.6
In short, man needs two acts to achieve what God can achieve with only
one. And, consequently, that which, in the case of God, is at the beginning
(i.e., truth),7 is only the result in the case of man. Furthermore, that which is
primary for God (that is, self-cognition) is secondary for man.
3 John Duns Scotus
John Duns Scotus rejects Thomas’s strategy of reconciling God’s simplicity and
the plurality of things. He argues that Thomas’s description of God’s ideas
as modi imitationis or respectus imitabilitatis turns these ideas into mere
relations. For Scotus, ideas have to be the fundaments by which the divine cog-
nition can be terminated. As such, they have to be produced:
The productio (viz., in esse intelligibili) is in a different sphere from the

esse simpliciter—and what is produced is not only a relation, but also a
foundation. This foundation has no esse essentiae vel exsistentiae, but
only an esse deminutum. The esse deminutum is an esse secundum quid
which is also possessed by an absolute being. It is that aspect of an abso-
lute being which enables it to become part of a relation of reason.8
6 Thomas, De veritate, q. 1, a. 9 co.: “Dicendum, quod veritas est in intellectu et in sensu, sed non
eodem modo. In intellectu enim est sicut consequens actum intellectus, et sicut cognita
per intellectum. Consequitur namque intellectus operationem, secundum quod iudicium
intellectus est de re secundum quod est. Cognoscitur autem ab intellectu secundum quod
intellectus reflectitur supra actum suum, non solum secundum quod cognoscit actum suum,
sed secundum quod cognoscit proportionem eius ad rem: quae quidem cognosci non potest
nisi cognita natura ipsius actus; quae cognosci non potest, nisi natura principii activi cog-
noscatur, quod est ipse intellectus, in cuius natura est ut rebus conformetur; unde secundum
hoc cognoscit veritatem intellectus quod supra seipsum reflectitur.”
7 Cf. Thomas, De veritate, q. 1, a. 7c.: “Si enim proprie accipiatur veritas, tunc importabit aequal-
itatem intellectus divini et rei.”
8 Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, dist. 36, q. un., n. 44 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 288): “…productio ista
(sc. productio in esse intelligibili) est in esse alterius rationis ab omni esse simpliciter—et
non est relationis tantum, sed et fundamenti; non quidem secundum esse essentiae vel exsis-
tentiae, sed secundum esse deminutum (quod est ‘esse verum’), quod esse est esse secundum
quid etiam entis absoluti, quod tamen ‘ens absolutum’ secundum istud esse deminutum con-
comitatur relatio rationis.”
Scotus rejects the ‘parallelism’ that Thomas had established between God’s
knowing Himself and God’s knowing other things, and accuses Thomas of con-
juring up a relation out of nothing, or rather, of conjuring up a relation that has
one loose end, because there is nothing that could terminate God’s cognition
of things. Scotus therefore replaces this parallelism with a sequence, so to
speak. Before a thing can be the object of thought (even of divine thought), it
has to be made intelligible. For this purpose, God, after reflecting upon His
own essence in the so-called ‘first moment of nature’, produces the thing in
intelligible being (esse intelligibile) (‘second moment of nature’). This thing in
intelligible being can then serve as a fundament for a relation between the
thing and an act of cognition, which is why the esse intelligibile is also called
esse secundum quid (relative being). God enters such a relation to the thing in
the ‘third moment of nature’, and thereby immediately creates the thing in real
being (esse simpliciter).9
Ultimately, the fact that a thing has intelligible being describes nothing but
the thing’s ability to enter into a relation with an intellect, or the possibility for
an intellect to have some intramental representation of the thing. Esse intelli-
gibile and esse simpliciter are also called two ‘modes of being’ of the same thing,
whereby esse intelligibile, or esse obiectivum as it is later called, is the special
mode of being that things have in the intellect.10
Scotus explains the necessity of the productio in esse intelligibili of the thing
with an analogy. He asks: how can Caesar be represented by a statue after he
has been annihilated? And he answers: there is still Caesar in intelligible being,
and this makes it possible to represent Caesar. Similarly, for things that still
have existence, it is their intelligible being that makes it possible to cognize
them (or to have a cognition that represents them).11 In this analogy, the statue
is the human act of thought. For God, as we have seen, the problem that is
solved by the ‘thing in intelligible being’ is: how can God think of a thing that
is not yet created? And for man, the problem that is solved is: how can one
think of a thing that no longer exists?
9 Cf. ibid., I, d. 35, q. un., n. 32 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 258). On the different moments of
nature cf. Tobias Hoffmann, Creatura intellecta. Die Ideen und Possibilien bei Duns Scotus
mit Ausblick auf Franz von Mayronis, Poncius und Mastrius, Beiträge zur Geschichte
der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters—Neue Folge, Bd. 60 (Münster, 2002),
pp. 95–108; Calvin G. Normore, “Scotus, Modality, Instants of Nature, and the Contingency
of the Present,” in John Duns Scotus: Metaphysics and Ethics, ed. Ludger Honnefelder, Rega
Wood, and Mechthild Dreyer, Studien und Texte zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittelalters 53
(Cologne, 1996), pp. 161–174.
10 Cf. ibid., I, d. 36, q. un., n. 44 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 288).
11 Cf. ibid., I, d. 36, q. un., n. 45 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, pp. 288–289).
318 Renemann
Nevertheless, the tension between God’s simplicity and the plurality of

things is still palpable in Scotus’s approach. He has fixed the problem (as he
saw it) that there is no ‘fundament’ on the object’s side that could terminate
the divine cognition, but the fundament suggested by Scotus (the thing in
intelligible being) turns out to have a double character. On the one hand, it is
in the divine mind, and its being (its esse secundum quid) is terminative vel
principiative the real being (esse simpliciter) of the divine intellection. On the
other hand, though, the being of the thing in intelligible being is formally (for-
maliter) the being of the thing that is being made intelligible (ens absolutum;
cf. the long quotation above [“The productio…”]):
And even if one could put some trickery in the example, this is not pos-
sible with respect to the problem of intellection and object, i.e., one can-
not claim that not the whole object according to its total being has the
esse demininutum actually. And if you want to ask about the being true
(esse verum) of this object as such, this is nothing else than asking about
the respective being (secundum quid), unless this respective being (esse
secundum quid) is being reduced to some real being (esse simpliciter),
which is the being of the intellection itself. But this real being is not for-
mally (formaliter) the being of that which is called respective being (esse
secundum quid), but only as a terminus or principle (terminative vel prin-
cipiative), so that the true respective being (verum esse secundum quid)
(viz., of the object) is being reduced in such a way that without the being
true (verum esse) of the intellection there would be no respective being
(esse secundum quid) of the object.12
What follows from Scotus’s account of divine intellection for human intellec-
tion? The example with the statue of Caesar teaches us that, as was the case
with Thomas, the cognitive relation is triadic. The intramental terminus,
though, is not an image or a formal similarity of the thing, but the thing in esse
deminutum or esse obiectivum, called (by later Scotists) conceptus obiectivus.
12 Ibid., I, dist. 36, q. un., n. 46 (ed. Vatican, vol. 6, p. 289): “Et licet posset poni calumnia in
exemplo, non ita potest in proposito dici de intellectione et obiecto, quin obiectum totum
et secundum totale esse suum, ‘deminutum esse’ habeat in actu. Et si velis quaerere ali-
quod esse verum huius obiecti ut sic, nullum est quaerere nisi ‘secundum quid’, nisi quod
istud ‘esse secundum quid’ reducitur ad aliquod esse simpliciter, quod est esse ipsius
intellectionis; sed istud ‘esse simpliciter’ non est formaliter esse eius quod dicitur ‘esse
secundum quid’, sed est eius terminative vel principiative, ita quod ad istud ‘verum esse
secundum quid’ reducitur sic quod sine isto vero esse istius non esset illud ‘esse secun-
dum quid’ illius.” Cf. Hoffmann, Creatura intellecta, p. 143.
And, consequently, the intellectio is not the consideration of this image, but the
act of representing it (repraesentatio formalis). Bartolomeo Mastri (1602–1673),
the princeps scotistarum, and his co-author Bonaventura Belluto (1600–1676)
describe their dissent with their Thomist interlocutors as follows:
And it is utterly vain what some Thomists devise with Cajetan (In primam
partem Summae theologiae, q. 27 a. 1), namely, that the knower sees the
object in the verbum like in an image of this object, as if in a mirror. This
is vain because when someone cognizes a whiteness, for example, he
does not cognize an image which exists in the mind, and through it the
whiteness, but he perceives the whiteness directly. And so it happens uni-
versally that when we look at an object, we do not perceive some other
thing than the thing itself about which we cogitate, and no mediating
image presents (offerre) itself to us. And the reason for this is that species
impressa and expressa are only images by representing their objects (in
repraesentando suorum obiectorum), but not by being (in essendo) in the
sense that first they have to be cognized in themselves, and then they
lead us to the cognition of the object, as Scotus noted in his Quaestiones
quodlibetales, q. 14, paragraph “Ad ista….”13 So the quality produced by
the intellect during cognition is not an image which is cognized first and
then leads us to the cognition of the object, but it is a formal representa-
tion and the very intellection of the object.14
13 Cf. Duns Scotus, Quaestiones quodlibetales q. 14, n. 22, Opera omnia, vol. 26 (Paris: Vivès,
1895), pp. 98b–99a.
14 Bartolomaeus Mastrius, Bonaventura Bellutus, Disputationes ad mentem Scoti in Aristotelis
Stagiritae libros de anima (abbr.: De anima) d. 6, q. 3 a. 1 n. 32, in Cursus philosophiae ad
mentem Scoti (Venice, 1727), t. 3, p. 143b: “Et prorsus vanum est, quod quidam Thomistae
comminiscuntur cum Cajetan cit. cognoscentem intueri in verbo obiectum velut in eius
imagine, et quasi speculo, quia dum quis cognoscit albedinem v.g. non cognoscit aliquam
imaginem existentem in mente, et media illa albedinem, sed immediate percipit albedi-
nem, et sic unversaliter contingit, quod dum consideramus, et contemplamur aliquod
obiectum, constat nos non percipere aliud, quam illud ipsum de quo cogitamus, nulla-
mque se nobis offerre imaginem mediantem, et ratio huius est, quia tam species impressa,
quam expressa sunt imagines tantum in repraesentando suorum obiectorum, non autem
in essendo, adeo ut prius in se cognosci debeant, ut deinceps nos ducant in cognitionem
obiecti, ut notavit Scot. quol. 14 §ad ista, ergo qualitas producta ab intellectu, dum cog-
noscit, non est imago prius cognita ducens in cognitionem obiecti, sed est repraesentatio
formalis, et ipsamet obiecti intellectio.” Cf. ibid., a. 2 n. 54 (t. 3, p. 148a), where Mastri sug-
gests that the dissent between Scotists and Thomists is ‘in solo modo loquendi’.
320 Renemann
The fact that the productio in esse intelligibili is a prerequisite for any act of
thought has two consequences: (1) the esse intelligibile is not only an extrinsic
denomination that stems from an act of thought, but is rather a separate mode
of being; and (2) the thing in esse intelligibili is not only an aspect of the thing
outside (resulting from a certain way of looking at the thing), but it is the fun-
dament for any cognitive relation to the thing outside.
These two points—the rejection of the verbum and the character of the esse
intelligibile—show how the structure of human intellection flows from the
conception of divine intellection, and that the same is also true for the possi-
bility of human intellection. Pasnau notes: “By giving objects their intelligibil-
ity (esse intelligibile), the divine intellect ‘is that in virtue of which secondarily
the objects produced move the intellect in actuality’ (Ord. I.3.1.4 n.267).”15 This
is also confirmed by Tobias Hoffmann: “Die Intelligibilität ist Grund für die
menschliche Erkenntnis eines Dinges; Grund für die Intelligibilität ist die göt-
tliche (Ideen-produzierende) Erkenntnis des Dinges.”16 In other words, the
foundation that God produces to enable a relation between Himself and the
thing is also a foundation for our thinking about that thing.17
If we see Scotus’s theory as an attempt to provide an explanation of God’s
relation to things, then we see that, in a certain sense, the balance was moved
in the direction of the things. The things receive some kind of autonomy; they
have the ability to enter into a relation of reason before an intellect is directed
toward them. This, moreover, introduced an ambivalence that encouraged
Scotus’s followers to stress the role of the object even more, in order to empha-
size the contrast to Thomas’s ‘modes of imitation’. Consequently, Tobias
Hoffmann sees essentialist tendencies amongst all the Scotists whom he has
examined: Franciscus Mayronis, Bartolomeo Mastri, and Ioannes Poncius.18 In
Scotus’s original theory, though, God is clearly the producer of intelligibility.
15 Robert Pasnau, “Divine Illumination,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer

2011 Edition), ed. Edward N. Zalta <http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2011/entries/
illumination/>. Cf. Robert Pasnau, “Cognition,” in The Cambridge Companion to Duns
Scotus, ed. T. Williams (Cambridge, 2003), pp. 285–311, at p. 303.
16 Tobias Hoffmann, Creatura intellecta, p. 164.
17 In one passage, Scotus says that also man has the ability to produce things in intelligible
being, but not originally (primo) (cf. Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, dist. 36, q. un., n. 28 [ed.
Vatican, vol. 6, p. 282]). This argument serves Scotus as a proof that producing a thing in
intelligible being does not imply that this thing has real being. In my opinion, it does not
call into question the fundamental role that the divine productio in esse intelligibili has for
man’s understanding.
18 Cf. Hoffmann, Creatura intellecta, p. 310. We also follow Hoffmann in his judgment that for
Scotus, the ideas are not the quiddities or essences of things: “Die Ideenproduktion
Scotus’s truth theory is a good example showing this development. Scotus

distinguishes six modes in which truth can be said to be in a thing, of which
three are by comparison to the producer and three by comparison to the
knower.19 Of these six modes, however, Mastri picks out only one, namely, the
first mode by comparison to the knower: “The truth of a being is nothing else
than its intelligibility as it is (intelligibilitas, sicut est).”20
4 William of Ockham
William of Ockham, in his later writings (on which we shall focus here), uses
an approach that is very different from that of Thomas or Scotus. Almost like a
proto-Wittgensteinian, he focuses especially on terms and their supposition.21
His question is: what does a certain philosophical term stand for in a specific
context? In our context, it is obvious for Ockham that most philosophical
terms do not apply to man and God in the same way, because God is simple,
eternal, infinite, and independent, while creatures are manifold, temporal,
finite, and dependent. For example, Ockham rejects applying the terms ‘means’
and ‘end’ to God, citing God’s simplicity:
It does not seem well said that God wants the end prior to what serves
this end, because there is no such priority of acts in God, neither are there
such moments (instantia) as he (viz., Scotus) claims.22
bedeutet nicht, dass Gott bereits in sich intelligible Gehalte wahrnimmt, sondern durch
sie werden die intelligiblen Gehalte erst konstituiert. Damit erlangen diese jedoch kein
ewiges Sein der Wesenheit…” (p. 308). There are other researchers who, based on Lectura
I, d. 35, see Scotus identify the ideas with the quiddities (e.g., Maarten J.F.M. Hoenen,
Marsilius of Inghen. Divine knowledge in late medieval thought [Leiden, 1993], pp. 125–
126). Hoffmann relies primarily on the Ordinatio, where he sees Scotus’s doctrine devel-
oped most consistently.
19 Cf. Duns Scotus, Quaestiones super libros metaphysicorum Aristotelis, lib. VI, q. 3, n. 23–30,
in Opera Philosophica IV, St. Bonaventure (ny, 1997), pp. 67–70.
20 Bartolomaeus Mastrius, Disputationes ad mentem Scoti in Aristotelis Stagiritae libros meta-
physicorum (abbr.: In met.) d. 5, q. 6, a. 1, n. 161 (t. 4, p. 165b): “veritas entis aliud non sit
quam eiusdem intelligibilitas, sicut est.”
21 I say ‘almost’ because for Ockham, this is a strategy to reconcile God’s simplicity with the
plurality of things.
22 Guillelmus de Ockham, Ord. I, d. 41 q. 1 (ot 4, p. 604): “Similiter non videtur bene dictum
quod Deus velit prius finem quam illud quod est ad finem, quia non est ibi talis prioritas
actuum, nec sunt ibi talia instantia qualia iste [viz., Scotus] ponit.” Cf. Heiko Augustinus
322 Renemann
In sum, neither Thomas’s nor Scotus’s description of God’s inner workings

meet with Ockham’s approval.
With respect to the relation between God’s self-knowledge and God’s knowl-
edge of things, Ockham explains that even if there may be a priority of the
divine essence on the object-side, there is absolutely no distinction on the
knowledge-side, i.e., the intellectio is totally identical:
Therefore I say that even if one object (viz., the divine essence) may be
prior to the other (viz., the creatures) as to nature, perfection and origin,
the intellection of one object has no priority whatsoever over the intel-
lection of the other object, because it (viz., the intellection) is totally
identical without any distinction whatsoever.23
Hence, while for Thomas, God’s knowledge of His own essence is a medium for
the knowledge of creatures, and for Scotus, God’s knowing Himself is (at least
logically) prior to His ‘production of things in intelligible being’, which is in turn
prior to His knowledge of creatures, Ockham accepts no such order of ‘knowl-
edges’ in God. And when he has to explain how creation works—because God
is expected to act rationally, that is to say, according to ideas—Ockham says:
Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology: Gabriel Biel and Late Medieval Nominalism
(Cambridge, 1963), pp. 212–215, from where I take the following two quotations: “The
nominalistic attitude toward Scotus was by no means purely negative. But what hap-
pened was that while retaining Scotus’ teaching with respect to the dignity of man and
the sinner’s responsibility for his own damnation, final acceptation as a primordial
decision of God, which was Scotus’s safeguard against Pelagianism, was rejected by the
nominalistic theologians. This rejection of an intrinsic order of decisions in God is the
philosophical complement to the theological thesis of a predestination post praevisa
merita” (p. 213). “While traditionally in medieval thought goodness had been seen as
the common motivation of God and the elect, the nominalistic emphasis on the sim-
plicity of God forbade the assumption of any such inner motivation as predicable of
God” (p. 214).
23 Guillelmus de Ockham, Ord. I, d. 35, q. 3 (ot 4, p. 456): “Unde dico quod quamvis obiec-
tum unum sit prius alio obiecto tam natura quam perfectione, tam etiam origine, tamen
intellectio unius obiecti nulla prioritate imaginabili est prior intellectione alterius obiecti,
quia est eadem omnino sine omni distinctione imaginabili.” Cf. Jacob Schmutz, “Un
dieu indifférent. La crise de la science divine durant la scolastique moderne,” in Le
Contemplateur et les idées. Modèles de la science divine du néoplatonisme au XVIIIe siècle,
ed. O. Boulnois, J. Schmutz and J.-L. Solère, Bibliothèque d’Histoire de la Philosophie
(Paris, 2002), pp. 185–221, at p. 199.
“The creature itself is the idea.”24 At the same time, though, he says that the ideas
are preconceived (praecognitae).25 To distinguish the creature in itself from the
creature as preconceived by God (which is important, because the latter is the
prototype of the former), Ockham uses his theory of connotative terms:
The ‘term’ idea signifies the creature itself directly (in recto) and also ‘the
creature’ itself connotatively-obliquely (in obliquo) and besides this it sig-
nifies the divine cognition itself or the knower connotatively-obliquely
(in obliquo). Therefore, one can predicate of the creature itself that it is
the idea.26
Thus, connotations allow Ockham to introduce a structure where there is no

structure in reality. In reality, rather, there is only one creature. Nevertheless,
depending on the relation that we can construct for this creature, we can dis-
tinguish the creature from itself.
How does Ockham describe human cognition? Just as there is no intramen-
tal terminus in God (Thomas: verbum, Scotus: res in esse intelligibili), he argues,
so human cognition does not involve an intramental terminus. Ockham
describes this aspect of human cognition most extensively in his treatment of
universals, where he says that “a universal concept is just the act of thinking
about several objects at once.”27 (The traditional strategy among scholastics
was to ascribe to universals a special mode of being. In so doing, they sought to
avoid ‘Plato’s error’ of granting universals real existence—in-between the real
mental act and the thing outside. Ockham’s earlier fictum-theory of universals
was in line with this strategy.)
24 Cf. Guillelmus de Ockham, Ord. I, d. 35, q. 5, a. 3 (ot 4, p. 489): “…ipsa creatura est idea.”
25 Cf. Guillelmus de Ockham, Ord. I, d. 35, q. 5, a. 3 (ot 4, p. 490); Ord. I, d. 35 q. 5 (ot 4, p. 504).
26 Ibid., I, d. 35, q. 5 (ot 4, p. 490): “…Idea importat ipsammet creaturam in recto et etiam
ipsammet in obliquo, et praeter hoc importat ipsam divinam cognitionem vel cognoscens
in obliquo. Et ideo de ipsamet creatura est praedicabilis ut ipsa sit idea, sed non est
praedicabilis de agente cognoscente vel cognitione, quia nec cognitio nec cognoscens est
idea sicut non est exemplar.” Cf. Jacob Schmutz, “Un dieu indifferent,” p. 195. For Ockham’s
theory of connotation, cf. Gyula Klima, “Ockham’s Semantics and Ontology of the
Categories,” in The Cambridge Companion to Ockham, ed. Paul Vincent Spade (Cambridge,
1999), pp. 118–142.
27 Cf. Paul Vincent Spade and Claude Panaccio, “William of Ockham,” The Stanford
Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2011 Edition), ed. Edward N. Zalta <http://plato
.stanford.edu/archives/fall2011/entries/ockham/>.
324 Renemann
5 Suárez on Divine Knowledge
Suárez explains the problem of God’s knowledge of creatures as follows. God is

the creator of all things, therefore He has to know each thing before it exists—
that is, He has to know it as a possible.28 There are, according to Suárez, three
modes for God to know things: those presented by Thomas29 and Scotus,30 and
his own position, which combines the strengths of the first two modes.
From Thomas’s mode of knowing, Suárez approves of the point that God
knows things in Himself (i.e., in His essence). Nevertheless, Suárez does not
want to stop there, arguing that this is ultimately only self-knowledge. God,
according to Suárez, has to know possibles not only in Himself, but also accord-
ing to their own proper being possible (secundum esse proprium possibile).31
Scotus (whom—according to Suárez—Ockham, Biel, and Auriol are follow-
ing),32 for his part, has two separate ‘knowledges’ (duplex scientia33), that is,
God knows Himself and the things separately. Still, however, Suárez is not con-
tent: “knowledges [scientias] must not be unnecessarily multiplied (not even
according to reason), but here, there is no necessity.”34
What does the third mode look like, then? Suárez uses a quasi-reflexive
structure to answer this question. The direct act in this quasi-reflexive struc-
ture is the act (or, what is the same according to Suárez, verbum) by which God
cognizes (actual) creatures (creatures in Himself), and the quasi-reflexive
act is the act by which God “sees [1] Himself having the verbum and [2] the
creatures being represented by the verbum” (the creatures in themselves).
28 On Suárez’s doctrine of possibles, cf. John P. Doyle, “Suárez on the Reality of the Possibles,”
in Collected Studies on Francisco Suárez s.j. (1548–1617), ed. Victor M. Salas (Leuven, 2010),
pp. 21–40; Jacob Schmutz, “Science divine et métaphysique chez Francisco Suárez,” in
Francisco Suárez: “Das ist der Mann.” Libro Homenaje al Profesor Salvador Castellote Cubells
(Valencia: Facultad de Teología San Vicente Ferrer [Analecta Valentina 50], 2004),
347–359.
29 Cf. Suárez, De div. sub., 3.2.3–13 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, pp. 196b–200a).
30 Cf. ibid., 3.2.14–19 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, pp. 200a–201b).
31 Cf. ibid., 3.2.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 196b): “Unde etiam certissimum est, habere Deum scien-
tiam de omnibus rebus, quae fieri possunt secundum proprias rationes earum, propri-
asque differentias, quibus inter se distinguuntur, alioqui non posset illas producere: Quia
nisi cognosceret eas secundum esse proprium possibile, sed solum secundum esse, quod
habent in Deo, hoc non esset creaturas cognoscere, sed se tantum, ut latius in citato loco
Metaphysicae (Disputationes metaphysicae XXX, s. 15) prosecuti sumus.”
32 Cf. ibid., 3.2.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 200a).
33 Cf. ibid., 3.2.16 (ed. Vivès 1, p. 200b).
34 Ibid., 3.2.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 200b): “…non oportet multiplicare scientias, etiam secun-
dum rationem, sine necessitate, hic vero nulla est necessitas.”
Now, the inquiry about possibles represents a reversal of this structure, because
it presupposes that God’s knowledge of creatures in themselves (as possibles)
precedes God’s knowledge of the creatures in Himself (as actual). In other
words, speaking of possibles implies that they are possible in themselves, and
if we want to grant God the ability to know possibles, then it is not enough to
say that He sees His own essence and the ways in which He could imitate it
(the Thomist way). Hence, Suárez’s solution simply consists in allowing such a
reversal. Here is the whole explanation:
Another mode of cognizing.—About the third mode of cognizing crea-

tures in the divine ideas or in the knowledge itself. First, straightly
considered, this knowledge cannot be some kind of first and direct
knowledge which God has of creatures, but [it has to be] a quasi-
reflexive knowledge; but here we ask how it has to be understood that
God forms (so to say) a first notion (notitia) or concept and a verbum of
creatures (whereby we extend the term ‘verbum’ to the essential intel-
lection, in order to explain the problem). Then it is very easy [to explain]
that God, having in Himself a verbum of creatures, simultaneously sees
[1] Himself having the verbum and [2] the creatures being represented
by the verbum. But necessarily, it has to be supposed that God, accord-
ing to reason (secundum rationem), first proceeds to the actual knowl-
edge and cognition of creatures, conceiving and representing them in
Himself directly. And this is the proper knowledge which Thomas and
the theologians are treating, because with this knowledge posited, the
other quasi-reflexive [knowledge] is extrinsic to God, because of His
most eminent perfection, from which He has it that if there are things
other than Him (dum sunt aliquid), He knows His own essence and its
representation as perfectly and expressly as the cognized object. And
thus God, cognizing creatures, knows that He cognizes creatures, just
like when He cognizes Himself, He knows that He has knowledge
of Himself. So this mode of reflection does not constitute a peculiar
mode of cognizing creatures in Himself: especially because the
representation of the verbum is not objective, as I have said above
on beatific vision.35 So there is only a certain reflection intimately
35 Cf. ibid., 2.25.31 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 155a): “Maior difficultas in hac assertione est, quia
repraesentatio Verbi, seu conceptus, aut speciei expressae non est obiectiva, sed formalis:
non est ergo ratio cognoscendi ut medium cognitum, sed solum ut ratio cognoscendi
incognita.”
326 Renemann
included in the prior knowledge because of God’s perfect mode of

cognition.36
Thus, Suárez allows the reversal, but not light-headedly. Rather, he explains
that it is not really a reversal, as God’s knowledge intimately includes in itself
God’s knowing His own knowledge. This is why Suárez speaks of a ‘quasi-
reflection’: it does not really entail two separate acts.
The passage just quoted is from the treatise De divina substantia, book 3 (De
attributis Dei positivis), Chapter 2 (De scientia, quam Deus habet de creaturis ut
possibilibus). Chapter 4 (An scientia Dei practica sit et causa rerum: ubi de variis
nominibus divinae scientiae) describes the structure of God’s knowledge in
more detail. God’s knowledge, in itself, is “one and most simple,” though it is
distinguished by us in various ways, “according to our inadequate concepts.”37
Suárez proposes three divisions here: (1) knowledge of God (self-knowledge)-
knowledge of the creatures; (2) knowledge of vision (scientia visionis, which is
intuitive knowledge)-knowledge of simple understanding (scientia simplicis
intelligentiae, which is abstractive knowledge); and (3) practical knowledge-
speculative knowledge.38 Now, combining his explanations of these types of
36 Ibid., 3.2.20 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, pp. 201b–202a): “Alius modus cognoscendi.—Circa tertium
modum cognoscendi creaturas in ideis divinis, seu in ipsamet scientia. Imprimis si quis
recte advertat non potest illa esse veluti prima et directa scientia, quam Deus habet de crea-
turis, sed ad summum quasi reflexa: hic autem inquiremus quomodo intelligendum sit, for-
mare Deum (ut sic loquar) primam notitiam, seu conceptum et quasi verbum creaturarum
(extendendo nomen verbi ad intellectionem essentialem, ad rem explicandam). Deinde,
quod Deus habendo in se verbum creaturarum, simul videat se habere tale verbum et per
illud [202a] repraesentari creaturas facillimum est: tamen supponendum necessario est,
Deum prodire prius secundum rationem in actualem scientiam et cognitionem creatura-
rum, eas in se directe concipiendo et repraesentando. Et haec est propria scientia, de qua
D. Thomas et theologici tractant, quia illa posita, altera quasi reflexa est extrinseca Deo,
respectu omnium quae cognoscit, ratione suae eminentissimae perfectionis, ex qua habet,
ut dum sunt aliquid, tam perfecte et expresse sciat suam essentiam et repraesentationem
ejus, sicut objectum cognitum: et ita Deus cognoscendo creaturas, scit se cognoscere illas,
sicut cognoscendo se, scit etiam se habere scientiam sui. Hic ergo modus reflexionis non
constituit peculiarem modum cognoscendi creaturas in se: praesertim quia repraesen<ta>tio
verbi non est objectiva, ut supra de visione beatifica dixi. Est ergo haec solum quaedam
reflexio intime inclusa in priori scientia propter perfectum modum cognoscendi Dei.”
37 Cf. ibid., 3.4.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 206a): “Quamvis enim divina scientia una et simplicis-
sima sit in se, tamen ob multitudinem rerum quae sub illam cadunt et varia munia, quae
in illa considerari possunt, distinguitur a nobis variis modis, secundum conceptus nostros
inadaequatos, ut illam modo nostro considerare possimus.”
38 Cf. ibid., 3.4.1–3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, pp. 206a–207b).
knowledge, Suárez asks whether the intuitive or the abstractive type of knowl-
edge of creatures is practical, that is, the cause of things. His answer is:
From this, it is also clear whether ‘being cause of things’ falls to the knowl-
edge of simple understanding [scientia simplicis intelligentiae] or to the
knowledge of vision [scientia visionis]. Because ‘being cause by the way of
art [per modum artis]’ applies to knowledge, insofar as it is the knowledge
of simple understanding, applied by the will. Because from itself, it only
has the property of being cause like in the first act, or of being part of the
cause [causative], and it has this property also with respect to those pos-
sibles that will never be. But that it is an actual cause applies to it only
through the will which makes use of it. But its causality is thought of as
preceding the knowledge of vision [praeintelligitur ante scientiam visio-
nis], because this knowledge sees the things as already made or as being
in the future.39
With this, we see the following. That knowledge that is the cause of things has
to be a knowledge of creatures as possibles, because it has to precede creatures
themselves. Thus, the knowledge described here is the same knowledge as in
Chapter 2 (citation above). Suárez claims that it is an abstractive knowledge—
which is clear, because the alternative (i.e., intuitive knowledge) considers
things “according to their actual existence with all conditions of existence”—a
definition that does not exclude future things in general (as also future things
can be considered according to their actual existence, at least by God), but it
does exclude possibles as possibles.40 Furthermore, this abstractive knowledge
is thought of as preceding (praeintelligitur) the intuitive knowledge (science of
vision) that God has of creatures. This confirms the explanation from Chapter
2, in which the order of direct act and quasi-reflection was reversed in order to
make God’s knowledge of possibles intelligible for us.
Let us now summarize Suárez’s position regarding God’s knowledge of crea-
tures. First, there is only one (direct) knowledge by which God knows creatures
39 Ibid., 3.4.15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 209b): “Unde etiam constat, an esse causam rerum conve-
niat scientiae simplicis intelligentiae an visionis. Nam esse causam per modum artis
habet, ut est scientia simplicis intelligentiae applicata per voluntatem. Ex se enim solum
habet, ut sit causa veluti in actu primo, id est, causativa, quod etiam habet circa possibilia,
quae nunquam erunt. Quod vero sit causa in actu, non habet sine applicatione voluntatis,
ejus vero causalitas praeintelligitur ante scientiam visionis, nam haec videt res, ut jam
factas, vel futuras.”
40 Ibid., 3.4.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 1, p. 206b).
328 Renemann
and Himself (hence no multiplication of knowledges—against Scotus).

Second, God knows creatures not only in Himself, but also in themselves
(against Thomas).
The latter point deserves to be developed, because Suárez has a peculiar
understanding of Thomas’s idea of ‘God knowing creatures in Himself’. For
Thomas, the verbum in which God sees creatures is like an image—an objec-
tive representation that contains similitudes of the things to be made. For
Suárez, however, the verbum is identical with the act of thought, and is thus a
formal representation, that is, the act of representing.41 Consequently, know-
ing creatures in Himself means that God has in Himself an act of understand-
ing that is terminated by creatures. Nevertheless, as creatures are only the
secondary objects of this act, while the divine essence is its primary object, this
act does not fulfil Suárez’s requirement of knowledge of creatures in them-
selves. Only a quasi-reflection, in which God cognizes His understanding and
the object of His understanding separately, fulfils this requirement. Thus, we
have to think of this quasi-reflection as preceding the direct act of thought.
Suárez therefore redefines the whole problem. For Scotus, the problem is
that God has to know things before He creates them, because creation has to
take place in a thoughtful manner. This knowledge, however, cannot be part of
God’s self-knowledge (as suggested by Thomas), because this would not allow
for a proper separation between the intellect presenting possibles to the will,
and the will choosing what to do. Suárez is in general more sympathetic
towards Thomas, but he sees the problems that Scotus points out. Furthermore,
he sees that Thomas’s solution is not very dynamic, as God’s essence is immu-
table. Suárez (if I may speculate) was looking for a solution that allows for
human freedom and at the same time ensures God’s role in causing human
actions.
Thus, Suárez’s ‘quasi-reflection’ in God mirrors not only God’s perfect self-
knowledge, but also our way of thinking about God’s knowledge, and (unlike
the Nominalist solution) it provides a way to combine the two—or rather, to
explain the displacements that must necessarily occur when we think about
God. For example, God’s self-knowledge is simultaneous, but according to our
understanding, the reflection occurs after the direct act. Therefore, knowledge
of possibles, which, according to Suárez, we can only attribute to God as
some kind of reflexive knowledge, is posterior to God’s direct knowledge. Still,
this does not hinder us from saying that, for God, it is prior to His direct
knowledge.
41 See quotation above (“Another mode of cognizing…”), p. 325.

6 Suárez on Human Intellection
Suárez’s explanation of human intellection follows very closely his explana-

tion of divine intellection. We have to remember that divine intellection,
according to Suárez, is essentially characterized by a direct relation between
the act of thought and a thing outside. The quasi-reflection that follows (and is
thought to precede) this direct act simply has the purpose of explaining how
God knows possibles, despite the fact that there is no intramental terminus
apart from the act. (Suárez will even say later that the quasi-reflection is
“necessary not primarily because of the causality but because of the infinite
perfection of this knowledge.”)42 We will see that such a direct relation between
the act of thought and a thing outside is also the core trait of Suárez’s explana-
tion of human intellection (at least in the case of a proper and adequate
intellection).
In Suárez’s time, the terminology used in discussions about concepts
had become more technical. One such distinction was especially common
(as Suárez puts it), namely, the distinction between formal concept (conceptus
formalis) and objective concept (conceptus obiectivus).43 Nevertheless, there
were significant differences among authors, and especially among different
schools, regarding their definitions. For Thomists, the formal concept is the
verbum, i.e., an intramental quality representing the thing outside objectively
(like an image), and the objective concept is the thing outside with the extrin-
sic denomination of ‘being thought’. For the Scotists, on the other hand, the
formal concept is the act of thought, i.e., a formal representation, and the
objective concept is the thing in objective being, i.e., the direct terminus of
that formal representation. For the Nominalists, moreover, the formal concept
is the act of thought, i.e., a formal representation (like Scotists), and the objec-
tive concept is the thing outside with the extrinsic denomination of ‘being
thought’ (like Thomists).44
42 Cf. Suárez, dm 25.1.36 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 909): “…in Deo enim semper est necessaria illa
quasi reflexio, non tam ob causalitatem quam ob infinitam perfectionem illius scientiae,
quae non potest ita terminari ad aliquod obiectum, quin intrinsece seipsam sub omni
ratione et repraesentatione intueatur.”
43 Cf. Suárez, dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “Supponenda imprimis est vulgaris distinctio
conceptus formalis et obiectivi….”
44 The distinction between formal concept and objective concept, and its fate between the
fourteenth and seventeenth century, are analyzed in detail by J. Schmutz in his unpub-
lished paper “La migration des concepts. La distinction entre concept formel et concept
objectif au croisement des scolastiques parisienne et espagnole,” which was kindly given
to me by the author in 2002. Cf. M. Renemann, Gedanken als Wirkursachen. Francisco
330 Renemann
How does Suárez deal with this background? He defines the formal concept
as “the act itself or (which is the same) the verbum by which the intellect con-
ceives some thing or common nature.”45 Hence, the verbum is not “the proxi-
mate object, in which the thing represented is being cognized,” i.e., it is not the
medium in quo, as the Thomists believe.46 In his De anima commentary, Suárez
says more precisely that the act of cognition and the verbum are really identi-
cal and only modally distinct, because the act has two modes: production
(actio intellectus) and the produced quality or terminus of the production
(verbum).
Furthermore, the objective concept is defined as “that thing or nature which
properly and immediately is known or represented through the formal con-
cept.”47 Here, Suárez distances himself from the Scotist way of describing the
objective concept as the thing in some special mode of being (esse obiectivum,
esse intelligibile): “The objective concept (conceptus obiectivus), if it is com-
pletely proper and adequate to the thing…, is not distinguished from the thing
itself.”48 Consequently, ‘being objectively in the intellect’ is only an extrinsic
denomination to that thing.
Suárez concludes his description of the distinction between formal and
objective concepts by naming the differences between the two. The first differ-
ence, according to Suárez, is that “a formal concept is always a true and posi-
tive thing (sc. a real being) and in the case of creatures a quality inhering in the
mind,” while an objective concept may also be a being of reason (like a priva-
tion).49 The second difference is that “a formal concept is always a singular and
individual thing,” while an objective concept may also be “a universal or com-
bined (confusus) and common thing (for example, man, substance, and so
on).”50 The most common concept is the concept of being, which comprises all
Suárez zur geistigen Hervorbringung (Amsterdam-Philadelphia, 2010), pp. 108–113, where

I examine Schmutz’s interpretation of Suárez’s version of this distinction.
45 Cf. dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 64): “…conceptus formalis dicitur actus ipse, seu (quod
idem est) verbum quo intellectus rem aliquam seu communem rationem concipit….”
46 Cf. ibid., 25.1.37 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 909): “…multi censent, verbum mentis esse qualita-
tem distinctam ab actu cognoscendi, deservientem cognitioni, ut objectum proximum, in
quo res repraesentata cognoscitur…illa sententia de verbo mentis falsa est.”
47 Cf. ibid., 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “Conceptus obiectivus dicitur res illa, vel ratio, quae
proprie et immediate per conceptum formalem cognoscitur seu repraesentatur.”
48 Cf. ibid., 25.1.29 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 907): “…conceptus objectivus, si sit omnino proprius
et adaequatus rei…, non distinguitur ab ipsamet re.”
49 Cf. Chapter 10 of the present volume: Daniel D. Novotný, “Suárez on Beings of Reason.”
50 Cf. Suárez, dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “Unde colligitur differentia inter conceptum
formalem et obiectivum, quod formalis semper est vera ac positiva res et in creaturis
real beings, and this is also the occasion for Suárez to describe the distinction
between formal and objective concept in dm 2.51 But in the case that is at the
heart of this chapter—i.e., the cognition of singular things—the objective con-
cept is just that thing.
In short, Suárez gives up the Thomists’ idea of the verbum as an objective
representation, and subscribes to the Scotists’ idea of the act of thought as a
formal representation. Nevertheless, he rejects the Scotists’ premise that the
formal representation needs an intramental terminus, and instead identifies
‘objective concept’ and ‘thing outside’.
The result is a concept theory that closely resembles the Nominalist solu-
tion (because of the lack of an intramental terminus). Nevertheless, Suárez
goes beyond this solution, because the quasi-reflection in God also has its
counterpart in man, in the form of a “merely implicit and virtual reflection
which every act of the mind includes in itself and which is the reason that the
act is said to know itself as an instrument (ut quo)” or “to be known by way of
its tendency towards the object (per modum tendentiae ad obiectum).”52 Suárez
explains the virtual reflection in his treatment of exemplar causality (dm 25),
where he rejects the traditional account of art production as a process in which
something (be this a thing outside or some preconception) is imitated.53 For
Suárez, the act of thought itself (“the practical formal concept of the thing
which is being brought about”)54 is the exemplar, and its causality consists in
being “a light which goes before, showing the way, the mode and the terminus
qualitas menti inhaerens, obiectivus vero non semper est vera res positiva; concipimus
enim interdum privationes et alia, quae vocantur entia rationis, quia solum habent esse
obiective in intellectu. Item conceptus formalis semper est res singularis et individua,
quia est res producta per intellectum, eique inhaerens; conceptus autem obiectivus inter-
dum quidem esse potest res singularis et individua, quatenus menti obiici potest, et per
actum formalem concipi, saepe vero est res universalis vel confusa et communis, ut est
homo, substantia, et similia.”
51 Cf. Chapter 4 of the present volume: Rolf Darge, “Suárez on the Subject of Metaphysics.”
52 Cf. Suárez, dm 25.1.39 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 910): “Tunc ergo non est necesse ut exemplar
cognoscatur tanquam objectum quod, sed satis est ut implicite et per modum tendentiae
ad objectum aliquo modo cognoscatur, ea tantum implicita et virtuali reflexione, quam
quilibet actus mentis in se includit, ratione cujus dicitur cognosci seipso ut quo, quamvis
non cognoscatur ut quod.”
53 Cf. ibid., 25.1.41 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 910): “…illa vero locutio, quod artifex respiciens ad
exemplar, operatur ad illius imitationem, non oportet ut cum omni proprietate
sumatur.”
54 Cf. ibid., 25.1.27 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 907): “[Exemplar est] conceptus ipse formalis practi-
cus rei efficiendae.”
332 Renemann
of the operation” (lumen, quod praeit ostendens viam et modum, ac terminum

operationis).55 This requires some kind of mechanism that ensures that the
artist is in control of the process. For Suárez, this means that the exemplar has
to be known in some way, and the better it is known, the more perfect is the
causation.56 This is achieved through a virtual reflection.57
7 Conclusion
As we can see, Suárez’s main strategy is to allow for a knowledge or a cognition

that is simultaneously direct and reflexive. I will explain this separately for God
and for man.
There is no doubt that God knows possibles. The problem with this is that
according to normal understanding, ‘knowing’ implies that the object pre-
cedes the knowledge. But if possibles ‘exist’ (in some sense) prior to God’s
knowledge of them, how can God still be called independent? This is why the
Thomists say that God does not know possibles in themselves, but in Himself—
since He is the cause of things, and the effects are contained in their cause
(as possibles). Again, a problem occurs: possibles are then prerequisites for
God’s will to make a prudent decision. This means that they have to precede
God’s efficient (exemplar) causality—but this condition is not fulfilled by pos-
sibles that are only known in God as their cause.58
Suárez starts from the divine knowledge, which is primarily self-knowledge
but eminently includes knowledge of everything that is intelligible.59 NeverÂ�
theless, the divine cognition does not stop here:
55 Cf. ibid., 25.2.28.

56 Cf. ibid., 25.1.31 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 908): “ut [exemplar] causet, oportet ut aliquo modo
cognoscatur, et quo perfectius fuerit cognitum, eo, caeteris paribus, perfectius causabit.”
57 I have treated dm 25 extensively in my dissertation, Gedanken als Wirkursachen. Francisco
Suárez zur geistigen Hervorbringung (Amsterdam-Philadelphia, 2010) and in my paper
“The Mind’s Focus as an Efficient Cause. Francisco Suárez’s Re-interpretation of the
Traditional Understanding of the Idea,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly 84
(2010): 693–710.
58 According to Jacob Schmutz (“Un dieu indifférent”), the debate in the seventeenth cen-
tury is marked by this dilemma, or rather, by a fight between those who want to preserve
a “God who is by his knowledge the cause of things” (p. 185) and those for whom God is “a
simple indifferent spectator of the Great Theater of the World” (p. 219). Unfortunately, this
means that Suárez, at least historically, was not very successful with his effort to find a way
out of the dilemma.
59 Cf. DM 30.15.22 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 176): “…Deus est infinite intellectivus; ergo habet
vim cognoscendi omne intelligibile.” I wonder how important it is to say that God’s
Creatures are not to be created according to their ‘eminent being’ which

they have in God, but according to the ‘formal being’ which they receive
in themselves. Therefore, their cognition according to the eminent being,
if it remained there and did not proceed to formal being, would not be
useful for their production. Therefore, God knows possible creatures for-
mally and in themselves.60
In this passage, Suárez does not really give a solution. Rather, he formulates a
requirement: there has to be a transition from God’s knowing possibles in
Himself to God’s knowing possibles in themselves, in other words, a transition
from direct knowledge to reflexive knowledge.61 But instead of explaining
exactly how this works, Suárez merely points to God’s simplicity. Nothing at all
has to happen, because “God’s knowledge is in the most eminent way at once
direct and reflexive.”62 Thus, both types of knowledge are identical and exist
simultaneously!
In light of this argument, even the fact that God knows possibles in them-
selves, or the fact that His knowledge is being terminated by the creatures,
“does not imply in this knowledge any dependence on the creature, but only an
eminent and intellectual representation in which we ground a denomination
or relation of reason according to which we say that this knowledge is being
terminated by such object.”63
Suárez’s position on human intellection cannot be summarized very easily.
On the one hand, he clearly says that every mental act includes in itself a
knowledge, at this level, is about Himself or about other things. After all, act and terminus
are identical for Suárez, as we have seen above. Hence, maybe Suárez’s starting point is
simply God’s (act of) knowing.
60 Cf. ibid., 30.15.23 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 177): “Denique, cum creaturae non sint condendae
secundum esse eminens quod habent in Deo, sed secundum esse formale quod in se reci-
piunt, cognitio earum secundum prius esse, si in eo sisteret et ad posterius esse non trans-
iret, nihil ad earum productionem posset iuvare; cognoscit ergo Deus creaturas possibiles
formaliter et in seipsis.”
61 See quotation above (“Another mode of cognizing…”), p. 325.
62 Cf. Suárez, dm 30.15.21 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 176): “…divinam scientiam eminentissimo
modo esse simul directam et reflexam.”
63 Cf. ibid., 30.15.26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 178): “…negatur enim supponi vel sequi imper-
fectionem aliquam ex eo quod Deus cognoscat creaturas in seipsis modo iam expli-
cato, aut ex eo quod scientia Dei in eodem sensu terminetur ad creaturas. Quia hoc
terminari non ponit dependentiam aliquam in illa scientia a creatura, sed solum emi-
nentem et intellectualem repraesentationem, in qua nos fundamus denominationem
seu relationem rationis, secundum quam dicimus illam scientiam terminari ad tale
obiectum.”
334 Renemann
virtual reflection through which the act is known as an instrument. (It has to
be noted that there are individual differences in the clarity that the virtual
reflection provides.) This means that every mental act is at the same time
direct and reflexive, which is similar to what he says about God’s knowledge.
The difference is that God understands His knowledge not only as an instru-
ment, but also according to its representation, thereby knowing the repre-
sented things in themselves.
The importance of virtual reflection is further highlighted by the fact that
Suárez uses it to explain how an act of will can itself be voluntary:
The act which is through itself and intrinsically voluntary is not properly
the object or the effect of the act through which it is brought about,
because it is voluntary through itself, and it is not properly the object or
the effect of itself. Rather, it has another object at which it directly aims,
and it is the effect of the potency by which it is elicited. Therefore, it is
voluntary only through some virtual reflection, which it includes in itself,
and it is called ‘willed’ as an act, not as an object.64
Thus, it can be said that the act’s ability to reflect upon itself is an important
element of Suárez’s conception of the intellective soul.65
Be that as it may, it seems that Suárez does not really explore the systematic
consequences of virtual reflection on the field of speculative concepts. His
explanations concerning this field occur only in passing, while the main
subject is art production (practical concepts). Here, I can only speculate. The
primary purpose of virtual reflection is to create a transparency over the cogni-
tive process, and to make visible what type of cognitive instrument (what kind
of mental focus) provides access to the cognized object. This goes well beyond
64 Cf. ibid., 19.5.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 716): “At vero actus qui per seipsum est intrinsece
voluntarius non comparatur ut proprium obiectum vel effectus ad illum actum quo est
voluntarius, quia est voluntarius seipso, et non est proprie obiectum vel effectus sui
ipsius; habet ergo aliud obiectum in quod directe tendat, et est effectus potentiae a qua
elicitur, et solum per quamdam virtualem reflexionem, quam in se includit, est voluntar-
ius; unde dici solet volitus per modum actus, non per modum obiecti” (my emphasis).
Other instances where the act of will is described in this way are: De vol. et invol., 1.1.2 and
5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 4, p. 160 a and b) and De gratia Dei, 5.16.9 (De auxilio efficaci gratiae Dei)
(ed. Vivès, vol. 8, p. 468 a-b).
65 This is confirmed by the fact that the soul’s attention is nothing separate from the acts.
But in order to control the attention, the soul would need some kind of knowledge as to
where its acts are directed; see Chapter 8 of the present volume (Simo Knuuttila, “Suárez’s
Psychology”).
Descartes’s self-transparency of the mind because it includes the cognitive

process up to the thing. The trustworthiness of my concepts is not only due to
a veracious god who has created my intellect in such a way that it represents
the things correctly (in most cases). Rather, the act of thought includes a reflec-
tion upon itself through which it knows its tendency towards the real object.
But for this, Suárez needs to get rid of the intramental terminus, because with
an intramental terminus, the self-reflection of the act could make known only
the relation of the act to the terminus, not the relation to the thing.
Through his focus on the practical aspect (art production, freedom of will),
Suárez underlines man’s role in shaping the course of the world. This is
confirmed by the fact that virtual reflection, or the will’s self-determination,
is exactly the point where man and God work together, because this self-
determination is at the same time God’s determination of man’s will, which
the Thomists falsely call praedeterminatio physica.66 In this sense, “it is not
absurd to say that the (immanent) action of the creature is also the (transient)
action of God.”67
66 Cf. De gratia Dei, 5.16.9 (De auxilio efficaci gratiae Dei) (ed. Vivès, vol. 8, p. 468b): “Sic ergo,
quando voluntas libere determinatur ad volendum vel amandum, libera determinatio
non est aliquid praevium ad ipsam actionem amandi, sed quia ipsa actio amandi seipsa
voluntaria est, per seipsam est formalis determinatio voluntatis in actu secundo, ante
quam non antecedit alia determinatio in actu primo, ut ostendi; neque est necessaria alia
praevia determinatio in actu secundo, quia alias procederetur in infinitum, et quia per
ipsam voluntariam actionem sufficientissime fit talis determinatio, ut etiam lib 3, cap. 42,
declaravi; et ita illa determinatio non est virtualis actio, sed formalis, non distincta ab
ipsamet actione consentiendi aut amandi, sed ipsamet per seipsam voluntaria est, et qua-
mdam reflexionem virtualem includit. Unde immerito vocatur praedeterminatio respectu
ejusdem voluntatis, cum nullo modo antecedat tempore vel natura determinationem
ejus, ut jam etiam adverti.” This passage is from the second part of Suárez Tractatus de
gratia Dei, containing the books on the help afforded by grace (auxilia gratiae; books
III–V of the Tractatus de gratia Dei, filling now the complete vol. 8 of the Vivès edition).
The publication of this part during Suárez’s lifetime was prevented by a general publish-
ing ban on the topic of the auxilia gratiae. It was only in 1651 that three booksellers from
Lyon (Philippe Borde, Laurent Arnaud, and Claude Rigaud) published the work, against
the resistance of the Jesuit order, the Pope, and the King of France. Cf. Raoul de Scoraille,
s.j., François Suarez (Paris, 1912–1913), vol. 2, pp. 392–398.
67 Cf. Francisco Suárez, Opusculum de concursu, motione et auxilio Dei (De concursu Dei cum
voluntate), 1.15.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 11, p. 80a): “…in quo nihil est absurdi, si dicamus ipsammet
actionem creaturae esse etiam actionem Dei; quia actio nihil est aliud quam res ut prodit
ab agente, seu dependentia effectus ab agente: et hanc rationem habet actio illa, etiam
respectu Dei.”
chapter 14
Between Thomism and Scotism

Francisco Suárez on the Analogy of Being
Victor Salas
1 Introduction
At the beginning of his Church Dogmatics, Karl Barth (in)famously identifies

the analogia entis as the ‘invention of the anti-Christ’ and the principal reason
for his inability to become Catholic.1 While most Catholic theologians would
no doubt dismiss Barth’s characterization of analogy as little more than hyper-
bolic diatribe, Barth’s recognition of the centrality of analogy in the Catholic
intellectual tradition is more than a little perspicacious. Most likely directing
his claim at Erich Przywara2 and, to a lesser extent, Hans Urs von Balthasar3—
both Catholic interlocutors of the Protestant theologian—Barth’s criticism of
analogy reaches well beyond his twentieth-century contemporaries to chal-
lenge the philosophico-theological schemas of thinkers stretching back to the
Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Indicative of the role that analogy would
play during those periods, centuries prior to the Dogmatics, Tommaso de Vio
Gaetanus (1469–1534), more commonly known as Cajetan, wrote that without
a knowledge of analogy “no one would be able to learn metaphysics, and many
errors in other sciences proceed from ignorance of it.”4 Operating in a much
different environment than Barth, medieval and Baroque discussions of anal-
ogy had their own set of interlocutors, in particular Thomists and Scotists, the
latter following their master, John Duns Scotus, who had issued a direct chal-
lenge to the semantic possibility of analogy.5
1 Cf. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics: The Doctrine of the Word of God (Edinburgh, 1995), vol. 1.1,
p. xiii: “I regard the analogia entis as the invention of Antichrist, and I believe that because of
it it is impossible ever to become a Roman Catholic, all other reasons for not doing so being
to my mind short-sighted and trivial.”
2 Erich Przywara’s most important work devoted to the subject of analogy is simply known as
Analogia Entis: Metaphysik (Munich, 1932).
3 Von Balthasar pursued a constructive dialogue with Barth over the issue of analogy in his
own The Theology of Karl Barth (New York, 1971).
4 Cf. Cajetan, De nominum analogia, c. 1, ed. N. Zammit (Rome, 1934), p. 3: “Est siquidem eius
notitia necessaria adeo, ut sine illa non possit metaphysicam quispiam discere, et multi in
aliis scientiis ex eius ignorantia errores procedant.”
5 Joshua Hochshild, The Semantics of Analogy: Rereading Cajetan’s De nominum analogia
(Notre Dame, in, 2010), p. 79. Briefly, the Scotist challenge stems from the understanding of

Between Thomism And Scotism 337
In this vein, Francisco Suárez was also keenly aware of the challenge that
Duns Scotus and his disciples had posed to any metaphysical and theological
thinking that purported to proceed upon non-univocal lines, and it was a
challenge to which the Jesuit metaphysician would have to respond if he
were to succeed in lifting his own metaphysical project, which is heavily
dependent upon analogy, off the ground. Much like the Scotists, Suárez’s
concern for the unity of the concept of being is clear in the opening disputa-
tions of his Disputationes metaphysicae. In framing his metaphysical project,
Suárez first identifies being insofar as it is real being (ens inquantum ens
reale)6 as the adequate object of metaphysics, and subsequently investigates
being as it is known by means of the objective common concept of being, a
concept, he insists, that is most simple (simplicissimus) and absolutely uni-
fied.7 At the same time, and somewhat paradoxically, the Jesuit metaphysi-
cian denies that this absolutely unified concept is univocal and, moving
closer to the Thomist position, insists that it is analogical.8 The juxtaposition
of unity and diversity-difference within analogy poses a serious challenge for
Suárez and creates tensions in the very core of his metaphysical system, ten-
sions of which he himself is aware:9
metaphysics, as he and Thomists both take it as a ‘science.’ Yet, as any (Aristotelian) science
unfolds syllogistically, the demands of syllogistic argumentation must be met, among which
is the need for a univocal middle term. Analogy, it seems, falls under the scope of equivoca-
tion, which, as Scotus sees it, compromises the scientific character of metaphysics. His way
out of this dilemma is the univocal concept of being.
6 dm 1.1.26 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 11): “Dicendum est ergo, ens in quantum ens reale esse
objectum adaequatum hujus scientiae.” All references to the Disputationes metaphysicae
(dm) will be taken from the Parisian Vivès edition, with volume and page number cited
parenthetically.
7 Cf. dm 2.1.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 68): “Hinc etiam conceptus entis, non solum unus, sed etiam
simplicissimus dici solet, ita ut ad eum fiat ultima resolutio caeterorum…” Cf. ibid., 2.1.11
(ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 69): “…hic conceptus [entis] in se est simplicissimus, sicut objective,
ita etiam formaliter.”
8 The loci classici for Suárez’s discussions on analogy are dm 28.3 and 32.2.
9 As Jean-Luc Marion sees it, these tensions ultimately make Suárez’s position self-contradic-
tory. Suárez’s doctrine of analogy, Marion argues, really ‘shifts its center of gravity’ towards
univocity. See Marion, Sur la theologie blanche de Descartes: Analogie, creation des verities
éternelles et fondement (Paris, 1991), p. 96: “Ce chef-d’oeuvre souffre cependant d’un défaut: sa
contradiction interne qui le rend impensable; et, il ne peut que glisser là où l’entraîne son
centre de gravité, vers l’univocité. Cette tendance, Suarez, d’ailleurs, la reconnaît.” Cf. E.J.
Ashworth, “Suárez on the Analogy of Being: Some Historical Background,” Vivarium 33.1
(1995): p. 50 and p. 50, n. 3.
338 Salas
But if either of the two [i.e., the unity of the concept or analogy] be
denied, it is more preferable that analogy, which is uncertain, be
denied than the unity of the concept, which [unity] is seen to be dem-
onstrated by certain reasons. In true reality, however, it is necessary to
deny neither, since, for univocity, it is not sufficient that a concept in
itself be one in any fashion, but [rather] that it necessarily has an
equal relation and order to many, which [equal ordering] the concept
of being lacks.10
The passage quoted here is a famous one, and is often cited by those who
accuse Suárez of clandestinely embracing univocity.11 What the passage actu-
ally reveals, however, is the fact that, while recognizing the apparent tensions
between unity and diversity latent in the concept of being, Suárez, like a violin-
ist keeping his instrument in tune by maintaining just enough tension in the
strings, remains committed to balancing diversity within unity.12 Yet, herein
lies the difficulty. As all thinkers who have subscribed to some form of it have
keenly felt, analogy presents a fundamental philosophical challenge: the prob-
lem of the one and the many; how can one unify diversity in such a manner
that each (i.e., unity and diversity) retains its own integrity? Suárez’s solution
to this challenge enjoys an original character that has not always been
fully recognized.13 On the one hand, as already mentioned, there have been
certain authors—both contemporary and Renaissance—who reduce Suárez’s
10 dm 2.2.36 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 81): “…sed si alterum negandum esset, potius analogia,
quae incerta est, quam unitas conceptus, quae certis rationibus videtur demonstrari,
esset neganda. Re tamen vera neutram negari necesse est, quia ad univocationem non
sufficit quod conceptus in se sit aliquo modo unus, sed necesse est aequali habitudine et
ordine respiciat multa, quod non habet conceptus entis.” All translations are mine unless
otherwise noted.
11 Walter Hoerer’s treatment of Suárez thus seems lopsided, since he refuses to hear Suárez’s
plight for analogy and instead insists upon Suárez’s underlying univocity. Cf. Walter
Hoeres, “Francis Suarez and the Teaching of John Duns Scotus on Univocatio Entis,” in
John Duns Scotus, 1265–1965, ed. J.K. Ryan and B.M. Bonasea, Studies in the History of
Philosophy (Washington, d.c., 1965), pp. 263–290. Cf. Marion, Sur la theologie blanche
de Descartes; Philipp W. Rosemann, Understanding Scholastic Thought with Foucault
(New York, 1999), pp. 174–176.
12 Cf. José Pereira, Suárez: Between Scholasticism and Modernity (Milwaukee, wi, 2007),
pp. 134–135.
13 Daniel Heider is one of the few who has recognized Suárez’s distinctive teaching on anal-
ogy. See his “Is Suárez’s Concept of Being Analogical or Univocal?” American Catholic
Philosophical Quarterly 81.1 (2007): 21–41.
position to univocity.14 On the other hand, insofar as Suárez advocates an ‘anal-

ogy of intrinsic attribution’, to use his scholastic vocabulary, he has often been
regarded as simply adopting a fundamentally Thomistic outlook, even if one at
odds with Cajetan’s quasi-canonical theory of proper proportionality.15
Accordingly, Suárez has, at times, simply been regarded as a mere Thomistic
interpreter.16 Nothing could be further from the case, though, as Suárez him-
self suggests.17
In what follows I argue that Suárez’s doctrine of analogy is unique in the
history of philosophy, and can be reduced neither to a Thomistic analogy nor
to an ill-formed Scotistic univocity. As we shall see, what makes Suárez’s
account unique is his particular understanding of the (analogical) concept of
being as ‘confused’ and ‘aptitudinal’,18 that is, a concept that confusedly or
14 Cf. nn. 9, 11 supra; the Renaissance Scotist, Bartolomeo Mastrius, argued that, while Suárez
advocated a doctrine of analogy, the modes whereby the concept of being is contracted to
its inferiors are actually extrinsic to the concept itself, which thus retains a univocal unity.
See Mastrius, In Org., disp. 2, q. 5, a. 2 Num analogum dicere possit conceptum unum ab
analogatis præcisum, n. 75, p. 275b; cf. Cf. Marco Forlivesi, “The Nature of Transcendental
Being and Its Contraction to Its Inferiors in the Thought of Masti and Belluto,” in “Rem
in seipsa cernere.” Saggi sul pensiero filosofico di Bartolomeo Mastri (1602–1673), ed.
M. Forlivesi (Padova: Subsidia mediaevalia Patavina, 2006), pp. 261–337, esp. pp. 321–327.
15 John of St. Thomas, for one, regards Cajetan’s as the definitive position on analogy. Cf. B
Reiser, ed., Cursus philosophicus thomisticus, Ars logica (Taurin, 1930), p. 481, Pars II, q. 13,
a. 3: “Difficultates de analogia, quae satis metaphysicae sunt, ita copiose et subtiliter a
Caietano disputatae sunt in opusc. de Analogia nominum, ut nobis locum non reliquerit
quidam aliud excogitandi.” Suárez, however, is not so sanguine, and resolutely rejects
Cajetan’s theory of proper proportionality for the reason that ‘being’ is intrinsic not only
to God, who is being itself, but also to creatures. Proper proportionality, however, is
extrinsic, at least, to Suárez’s lights. In fact, Suárez holds that all instances of proper pro-
portionality ultimately boil down to transference or metaphor. See DM 28.3.11.
16 It is no wonder, then, that Augustine Thompson finds Suárez’s account of analogy ulti-
mately unsatisfactory because it fails the measure of a Thomistic yardstick. I grant that
Suárez’s position is hardly Thomistic, yet that is not a sufficient reason, if there be any, for
its inadequacy. See A. Thompson, “Francisco Suarez’s Theory of Analogy and the
Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas,” Angelicum 72 (1995): 353–362.
17 Cf. dm 28.3.9. Here, Suárez claims that Thomas’s argument for analogy as opposed to
univocity goes too far, insofar as Thomas’s claim would seem to undermine the unity of
the concept of being. Accordingly, Suárez’s account will have to find an alternate way of
preserving that unity.
18 Joshua Hocschild describes Cajetan’s concept of being as ‘confused.’ Despite the same
descriptive term, the doctrines of Cajetan and Suárez are irreducibly distinct. For Cajetan,
the unity of the ‘confused concept’ implies a proportional unity between two rationes.
Suárez’s notion of the concept of being, however, is even more unified, such that what he
340 Salas
indistinctly expresses being’s ‘aptness’ to exist, which is to say, its relationship

to diverse modes of existence (e.g., infinite-finite, substantial-accidental, real-
possible, etc.), all the while prescinding from those modes.19 Of course, whether
Suárez’s solution is ultimately successful is, I think, open to debate, but what is
beyond doubt is that evaluating his success will depend on much more than
simply judging the Jesuit thinker against the measure of either Aquinas or
Scotus; rather, it will require confronting the inner logic and coherence of his
metaphysical presuppositions against themselves.
2 Framing the Problem
Contrasting Suárez’s teaching on analogy with that of Thomas Aquinas, Jean-

François Courtine rightly notes that, whereas for Thomas, analogy attempts to
unify the diversity of (created) being in terms of its metaphysical relationship
to the principle of being—that is, subsistent Being itself (ipsum esse sub-
sistens)—the Jesuit philosopher is concerned with the unity of the concept of
being, which is apprehended precisively and with indifference to its inferiora.20
Here, Courtine makes a claim that is not entirely dissimilar to what Étienne
Gilson had argued earlier (albeit with respect to Duns Scotus), which I believe
is equally applicable to the distinction between Thomas and Suárez. “The
Thomist doctrine of analogy is before all a doctrine of the judgment of anal-
ogy,” Gilson writes, to which he immediately adds, “The analogy of which Duns
Scotus thinks is rather much more an analogy of concept.”21 Behind Gilson’s
has in mind is a unity of ratio, not rationes. See Hochschild, The Semantics of Analogy,
pp. 144–148.
19 Highlighting the difference between the Scotist concept of being and the Suarezian con-
fused concept is one of the central contributions of Rolf Darge. See Darge’s excellent
“Suárez and Medieval Transcendental Thought,” in Hircocervi and Other Metaphysical
Wonders: Essays in Honor of John P. Doyle, ed. Victor M. Salas (Milwaukee, wi, 2013),
pp. 65–93.
20 Cf. Jean-François Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique (Paris, 1990), p. 525:
“L’unité de l’être n’est donc pas pour l’Aquinate, comme ce sera la cas pour Suarez, l’unité
d’un concept commun et abstrait—susceptible d’être appréhendé praecise, dans sa neu-
tralité ou son indifférence vis-à-vis de ses ‘inférieurs’—mais bien l’unité réelle du principe
de l’être, ou encore l’unité rélle du principe.”
21 Cf. Étienne Gilson, Jean Duns Scot: introduction a ses positions fondamentales (Paris, 1952),
p. 101: “Ce qui permet aux dialogues philosophiques de se prolonger, chaque partie restant
contente d’elle-même mais surprise par l’obstination de l’adversaire, c’est que les inter-
locuteurs ne parlent pas la même langue. La doctrine thomiste de l’analogie est avant tout
claim, I suspect, is the fact that, for Thomas, being is ultimately resolved not in
terms of essence but in terms of the dynamic act of being—the actus essendi.22
This dynamic act, however, is not known (at least not originally) through the
static confines of the concept,23 but through the dynamism of the second
operation of the intellect: judgment.24 Accordingly, if being, for Thomas, is
ultimately resolved in terms of esse as attained through judgment, then the
analogy of being will likewise be a matter of judgment.25 Thus, looking for
Thomas’s thinking on the conceptual unity of analogy, which, as Bernard
Montagnes laments, is “less explicit than we would wish…,”26 might be, in light
of Gilson’s observations (as well as those of Courtine), a somewhat ill-framed
venture.
In contrast, taking as his metaphysical point de départ Avicenna’s notion of
common being, Duns Scotus, as Gilson contends, advances a metaphysics that
regards being in terms of its essential determination.27 Such an understanding
of being can be conceptualized through an abstractly simple concept that is
minimal in intension and maximal in extension.28 As is well known, according
to Scotus, this concept is the univocal concept of being. Here, there is an
important observation to make, one that is often neglected by those seeking to
un doctrine du jugement d’analogie. …L’analogie à laquelle pense Duns Scot est beaucoup
plutôt une analogie du concept.”
22 Cf. De potentia Dei, q. 7, a. 2, ad 9.
23 Cf. Joseph Owens, “Aquinas on Knowing Existence,” The Review of Metaphysics 29 (1976):
670–690; cf. Gerald B. Phelan, “Verum sequitur esse rerum,” Mediaeval Studies 1 (1939):
pp. 11–22.
24 For treatments of the dynamic character of judgment as corresponding to the equally
dynamic actus essendi, see the immediately preceding note. For those texts in which
Thomas locates the responsibility for apprehending esse with judgment, see In Sent., I,
d. 38, q. 1, a. 3 (ed. Mandonnet, vol. 1, p. 903): “Cum in re duo sint, quidditas rei, et esse ejus,
his doubus respondet duplex operatio intellectus. Unde quae dicitur a philosophis forma-
tio, qua apprehendit quidditates rerum, quae etiam a Philosopho, in III De anima, dicitur
indivisibilium intelligentia. Alia autem comprehendit esse rei, componendo affirmatio-
nem…” Cf. ibid., I, d. 19, q. 5, a. 1, ad 7; De Trin., q. 5, a. 3. For a critical treatment of Gilson’s
account of the judgmental apprehension of being, see Louis-Marie Regis, Epistemology,
trans. Imelda Choquette Byrne (New York, 1959), and more recently John Wippel, The
Metaphysical Thought of Thomas Aquinas: From Created to Infinite Being (Washington,
d.c., 2000), pp. 30–44.
25 I have argued this claim in my “The Judgmental Feature of Thomas Aquinas’s Analogy of
Being,” The Modern Schoolman 85 (2008): 117–142.
26 Montagnes, La doctrine de l’analogie de l’être, p. 94.
27 Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers, pp. 85–95.
28 Cf. Richard Cross, Duns Scotus on God (Burlington, vt, 2005), pp. 251–254.
342 Salas
saddle Scotus with all the shortcomings of modernity. When articulating his
theory of univocity, Scotus is not necessarily making a metaphysical pro-
nouncement. Rather, he is concerned with developing a semantic doctrine
capable of satisfying the scientific demands of syllogistic reasoning.29 The
Scotistic doctrine of univocity thus shifts from a metaphysical horizon, one
that had preoccupied Thomas, to a semantic application. It is within this
semantic field, moreover, that so many Renaissance Scotists, Thomists, and
later Jesuit metaphysicians (including Suárez) would be embroiled in bitter
dispute over analogy and univocity. In this regard, E.J. Ashworth notes that by
the “sixteenth century the focus [of analogy] was on concepts, [and] whether
one imprecise concept matched with more than one precise concept, or one
formal concept matched with more than one objective concept.”30
To appreciate Suárez’s role in that sixteenth-century dispute, let us first clar-
ify what question(s) he was addressing and what the parameters of the dispute
were. As my concern here is, at least in part, to differentiate Suárez’s doctrine
of analogy from Thomistic analogy, it will also be worthwhile to trace, even if
only in broad outlines, the shift from the analogy of being (though not neces-
sarily spelled out exactly in those terms)31 to the analogy of the concept of
29 There is no small confusion on this point. Many, especially those in the Radical Orthodoxy
camp, regard Scotus as advocating a kind of ‘univocal ontology’ and thus adumbrating the
dreaded fear of so many postmoderns, viz., onto-theology. Scotus, however, makes no
such claim, and explicitly rejects the idea that univocity of the concept of being implies
that being itself is a genus under which both God and creature would fall. Cf. Ordinatio I,
d. 8, pars 1, q. 3, nn. 82, pp. 137–150. For a critical response to Radical Orthodoxy that sets
the record straight, so to speak, see Richard Cross, “Where Angels Fear to Tread: Duns
Scotus and Radical Orthodoxy,” Antonianum Annus LXXVI Fasc. 1 (2001): 7–41. More shall
be said about Scotus’s doctrine of univocity in what follows.
30 E.J. Ashworth, “Equivocation and Analogy in Fourteenth Century Logic: Ockham, Burley
and Buridan,” in Historia Philosophiae Medii Aevi: Studien zur Geschichte der Philosophie
des Mittelalters, ed. Burkhard Mojsisch and Olaf Pluta (Amsterdam-Philadelphia, 1991),
p. 24.
31 While the exact phrase analogia entis is not found anywhere in the corpus Thomisticum,
I am hesitant to accept Ralph McInerny’s claim that, with respect to Thomas, there is no
analogy of being but there is an analogy of ‘being.’ Cf. McInerny, Aquinas and Analogy
(Washington, d.c., 1996), p. 162. McInerny’s reason for his position, as is well known,
stems from his claim that analogy, for the Dominican, is chiefly a matter of logic and not
a metaphysical doctrine. Against this claim are those passages in Thomas where he refers
to univocal, equivocal, and analogical causes, which, precisely insofar as they are causes,
generate corresponding ontological communities. See In Sent., I, d. 8, q. 1, a. 2; st I, q. 4, aa.
2, 3. One final comment: while the phrase analogia entis is missing from Thomas’s writ-
ings, the issue is certainly not altogether absent from the medieval context in which he
being, the latter of which was actually of greater concern for Suárez, as well as
for other sixteenth-century thinkers.32
As already mentioned, Thomas was less than explicit on what constitutes
the unity of the concept of analogy (if such is even the proper way to frame the
question for his own metaphysical project), however, his immediate successor
and frequent antagonist, Henry of Ghent, offers some insight into the evolu-
tion of analogy from a metaphysical to a conceptual-semantic doctrine. At first
glance, Henry’s position seems rather similar to that of Thomas.33 Like Thomas,
Henry explains that the underpinning of analogy is based on the metaphysical
similitude that results from the unequal or asymmetrical causal relationship
existing between a cause and its effect.34 Furthermore, Thomas and Henry
agree that, with respect to the analogical relationship between God and crea-
ture (what has become known as ‘transcendental analogy’),35 there is no prior
was operating. Albertus Magnus, for instance, uses the phrase in a metaphysical context
within his commentary on Pseudo-Dionysius’s De divinis nominibus, a text with which
Thomas literally had first-hand experience as its transcriber. Cf. Jean-Pierre Torrell, Saint
Thomas Aquinas vol. 1: The Person and His Work, trans. Robert Royal (Washington, d.c.,
1996), p. 21.
32 Ashworth provides a helpful discussion of the historical background of the logical context
of Suárez’s treatment of analogy in her “Suárez on Analogy: Some Historical Background,”
Vivarium 33.1 (1995): 50–75. More remains to be said, however, about the metaphysical
dimension of Suárezian analogy.
33 It is too much to say, however, as Richard Cross does, that the two (Aquinas and Henry)
are of one mind when it comes to analogy. Cf. Cross, Duns Scotus, Great Medieval Thinkers
(Oxford, 1999), p. 35. I shall not pursue the issue here, as it would take us too far from the
scope of the present essay.
34 Henry of Ghent, Summa quaestionem ordinariarum [hereafter sqo] a. 21, q. 2, (Paris, 1520;
reprint St. Bonaventure, ny: Franciscan Institute, 1953), fol. 124rH: “Et ita quamvis in nulla
convenientia realis similitudinis in aliqua forma significata nomine entis communicet:
conveniunt tamen in ente convenientia imitationis formae ad formam: quarum unam
significant ens inquantum convenit Deo: aliam vero inquantum convenit creaturae.”
Compare this with Thomas, In Sent., I, d. 35, q. 1, a. 4, ad 1 (ed. Mandonnet, vol. 1, p. 820):
“…ergo dicendum, quod ab agente secundum formam non producitur effectus univocus,
nisi quando recipiens est proportionatus ad recipiendum totam virtutem agentis, vel
secundum eamdem rationem…”; ibid., ad 6: “…dicendum, quod inter Deum et creaturam
non est similitudo per convenientiam in aliquo uno communi, sed per imitationem; unde
creatura similis Deo dicitur…” It is worth noting, however, that, as Montagnes has pointed
out, in Thomas’s mature writing analogy turns not so much upon the diminished com-
munication in the same form as it does upon the communication of actualitas. Cf., e.g.,
Summa contra gentiles I, c. 34.
35 See Cornelio Fabro, Participation et causalité selon s. Thomas d’Aquinas (Louvain-Paris),
p. 510. Montagnes adopts this same terminology in his La doctrine de l’analogie; Wippel,
344 Salas
‘genus’, as it were, in which both God and creature participate, and on account
of which they are denominated ‘being’.36 A significant doctrinal difference
between Thomas and Henry emerges, however, when Henry addresses an
objection to his own thesis that God and creature do not share being in com-
mon.37 Citing Avicenna, the objection claims that ‘being’ (among other things)
is “imprinted immediately in the mind [anima] by a first impression, which
[impression] is not attained from anything more knowable in itself…”38 All
subsequent determinate ‘beings’ are thus known and understood through this
primary concept of ‘being’. Moreover, since every concept is founded upon
something real, the concept of ‘being’ must denote some prior reality common
to both God and creatures.39
In his response, Henry rejects the claim that a single concept of being
emerges in one’s consideration of God and creature. He tells us instead that
there are two irreducibly distinct concepts at issue—one pertaining to the
divine being and the other to created being—and thus there is not a single
reality that would serve as the basis for a common concept. Both concepts (i.e.,
the concept of divine and created being) stand in an analogical relationship
based on the similarity that obtains between them, a similarity founded on the
‘indeterminate’ character that each concept possesses. That is, the concept of
God’s being is said to be ‘negatively indeterminate’ insofar as God, who is infi-
nite and unlimited, is by His very nature incapable of being limited or deter-
mined. Our concept of created being, in contrast, is only ‘privatively
indeterminate’, since, by its own nature, created being is able to be determined
however, uses the terms ‘horizontal’ and ‘vertical’ analogy to refer to predicamental and
transcendental analogy, respectively. See Wippel, The Metaphysical Thought of Thomas
Aquinas, pp. 73–74, 543.
36 Henry, sqo, a. 21, q. 2 (for text, see n. 34 supra); Thomas, In Sent., I, prol., q. 1, a. 2, ad 2;
ibid., I, d. 35, q. 1, a. 4; st I, q. 13, a. 5.
37 Here, by ‘in common’ I take Henry to mean shared as a common nature or genus in the
same way that, say, a human and an ox both have animal nature in common.
38 Cf. Avicenna, Liber de philosophia prima sive scientia divina, ed. S. van Riet (Louvain-
Leiden, 1977), p. 31, 32: “Dicemus igitur quod res et ens et necesse talia sunt quod statim
imprimuntur in anima prima impressione, quae non acquiritur ex aliis notioribus se,
sicut credulitas quae habet prima principia, ex quibus ipsa provenit per se, et est alia ab
eis, sed propter ea.”
39 Henry, sqo, a. 21, q. 2, obj. 3 (fol. 124vF): “…dictum de pluribus quod habet per se intel-
lectum propter intellectus illorum est aliquid reale commune ad illos: quia omnis concep-
tus fundatur in re aliqua, ens est hujusmodi: quia secundum Avicennam, ens imprimitur
impressione prima etiam antequam in ipsa imprimitur intellectus aut creaturae aut Dei;
ergo etc.”
by its proper natures or forms. Deprived of such specificity, the concept of cre-
ated being is one of privative indetermination.40 Henry then explains that
since negative and privative indetermination are so near (propinquae) to each
other—that is, both are alike inasmuch as each removes determination—the
intellect (mistakenly) takes them as one, such that, in the final analysis, anal-
ogy really stems from a kind of conceptual muddling. “It is the nature of an
intellect incapable of distinguishing those [things] that are near [propinqua],”
Henry writes, “to conceive as one, though in true reality they do not form [faci-
unt] one concept.”41
Duns Scotus was quick to identify the difficulties inherent in Henry’s posi-
tion. If Henry were correct that the concept of being only seemed to be one
because of the ‘nearness’ of the two distinct concepts to each other, then one’s
ability to demonstrate the univocal unity of any concept, such as ‘man’, for
instance, is ultimately compromised. One could even turn Henry’s argument
against itself and argue that ‘man’ as applied to Socrates and Plato is really
a matter of two concepts that only ‘seem to be one’ because of some great
40 See ibid., ad 3 (fol. 124vP): “Quod autem nomine entis videatur concipi aliquid commune,
est quia sive concipiatur aliquid quod est res divina, sive quod est creatura: tamen cum
concipitur esse abseque eo quod determinate et distincte concipitur esse Dei vel crea-
turae, illud non concipitur nisi indeterminate scilicet non determinando intellectum ad
esse Dei vel esse creaturae. Et habendo respectum ad distinctum intellectum Dei aut
creaturae, intellexit Avicenna (si bene intellexit) quod intellectus entis prior est intellectu
Dei aut creaturae. Intelligendum tamen quod illa indeterminatio alia est respectu esse
Dei, et alia respectu esse creaturae: quia duplex est indeterminatio: una negativa, altera
vero privative dicta. Est enim negativa indeterminatio quando indeterminatum non est
natum determinari: ad modum quo Deus dicitur esse infinitus: quia non est natus finiri.
Est autem privativa indeterminatio quando indeterminatum natum est determinari: ad
modum quo punctus dicitur infinitus cum non est determinatus lineis quibus natus est
determinari.”
41 See ibid. (fol. 125rS): “Et quia indeterminatio per abnegationem et per privationem pro-
pinquae sunt; quia ambae tollunt determinationem, una tamen secundum actum; alia
secundum actum simul et potentiam: ideo non potentes distinguere inter hujusmodi
diversa per eodem concipiunt esse simpliciter et esse indeterminatum: sive uno modo
sive altero: sive fit Dei: sive creaturae. Natura enim est intellectus non potentis distinguere
ea quae propinqua sunt, concipere ipsa ut unum: quae tamen in rei veritate non faciunt
unum conceptum. Et ideo est error in illius conceptu.” For a contemporary treatment of
Henry that rejects the ‘standard’ interpretation proposed by Jean Paulus’s Henri de Gand.
Essai sur les tendances de sa métaphysique (Paris, 1938), see Jos Decorte, “Henry of Ghent
on Analogy: Critical Reflections on Jean Paulus’s Interpretation,” in Henry of Ghent:
Proceedings of the International Colloquium on the Occasion of the 700th Anniversary of His
Death (1293), ed. W. Van Hamel (Leuven, 1996), pp. 71–105.
346 Salas
similarity.42 At the heart of Henry’s position, as Scotus sees it, is a deep and abid-
ing equivocity resulting in total agnosticism about the divine being, which, for
the Christian theologian that Scotus is, is an untenable conclusion.43 If, as Henry
maintains, the concept of ‘divine being’ were irreducibly distinct from the con-
cept of ‘created being’, then one could not conclude anything about God from
any notion whatsoever proper to creatures, since the notion (ratio) proper to the
one is diverse and irreducible to the notion (ratio) proper to the other.44 The only
way, then, to preserve (scientific) knowledge about the divine being is to insist
that at least some concepts are predicated univocally of God and creature.
In advancing univocity, Scotus does not intend to suggest that no concept
used in metaphysics or theology is analogous.45 Rather, for Scotus, univocity
would serve as the justification and basis for analogy. Were such not the case,
then ‘being’—or any other concept for that matter—predicated of God and
creature would signify two irreducibly distinct concepts (as Henry holds),
which would signal the demise of any and all metaphysical-theological reason-
ing that intends to be scientific.46 The desire to preserve the scientific—and
42 John Duns Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1–2, q. 1, n. 30 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, p. 20): “Quod si
non cures de auctoritate illa accepta de diversitate opinionum philosophantium, sed
dicas quod quilibet habet duos conceptus in intellectu suo, propinquos, qui propter pro-
pinquitatem analogiae videntur esse unus conceptus—contra hoc videtur esse quod tunc
ex ista evasione videretur destructa omnis via probandi unitatem alicuius conceptus uni-
vocam: si enim dicis hominem habere unum conceptum ad Socratem et Platonem, nega-
bitur tibi, et dicetur quod sunt duo, sed ‘videntur unus’ propter magnam similitudinem.”
43 On Henry’s position countenancing equivocity, see Richard Cross, Duns Scotus, Great
Medieval Thinkers (Oxford, 1999), p. 35. Cf. the following, where Scotus clearly identifies
Henry’s understanding of the irreducible diversity involved in the concepts that pertain to
God and creature, Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1, n. 20 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, pp. 11–12): “…dicit
quidam doctor sic: loquendo de cognitione alicuius, distingui potest, ex parte obiecti, quod
potest cognosci per se vel per accidens, in particulari vel in universali… In universali etiam,
puta in generali attributo, cognoscitur: non quidem in universali secundum praedicationem
quod dicatur de ipso—in quo nullum est universale, quia quiditas illa est de se singularis—
sed in universali quod tantum analogice commune est sibi et creaturae; tamen quasi unum
a nobis concipitur, propter proximitatem conceptuum, licet sint diversi conceptus.”
44 Cf. Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1, n. 40 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, p. 27): “Quod si dicas, alia est
formalis ratio eorum quae conveniunt Deo—ex hoc sequitur inconveniens, quod nulla
ratione propria eorum prout sunt in creaturis, possunt concludi de Deo, quia omnino alia
et alia ratio illorum est et istorum.”
45 Cf. Cross, Duns Scotus, p. 34.
46 Cf. Lectura I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 25 (ed. Vatican, vol. 16, p. 233): “…si conceptus dictus de
Deo et creatura sit analogus et realiter duo conceptus omnino nihil cognosceremus de
Deo. Consequens falsum, ergo antecedens.”
thus syllogistic—character of both theology and metaphysics dominates

Scotus’s project, as can be seen in the very definition that he gives to the univo-
cal concept. A univocal concept, he maintains, is such that (1) to affirm and
deny it of the same thing would result in a contradiction, and (2) it can serve as
a middle term in a syllogism without falling prey to the fallacy of equivoca-
tion.47 Thus, on Scotus’s account, ‘being’, ‘goodness’, ‘wisdom’, et cetera, all sig-
nify concepts that are univocally common to God and creature, and are not, as
Henry maintains, two irreducibly distinct concepts.48
In arguing for the univocity of the concept of being, Scotus is not suggesting
that there is some reality common to both God and creature; here, he is in
complete agreement with Thomas and Henry. Though creator and creature are
not diverse with respect to concept—i.e., they both fall under the extension of
the common concept ‘being’—they are nevertheless diverse in reality (in reali-
tate). Against Henry, then, Scotus holds that a community of the concept (of
being) does not imply a real or metaphysical community,49 which is simply to
say, as many scholars have pointed out,50 that Scotus’s position on univocity is
fundamentally a semantic one, and not a metaphysical doctrine. Scotus is
clear on this point when he insists that the univocal concept of being does not
imply that being itself is a genus, for if it did, divine simplicity would be com-
promised insofar as God would be ‘being’ in addition to some specific differ-
ence, namely, ‘infinite’ or ‘uncreated’.51 Rather, as Scotus explains, the concept
of being is determinable by intrinsic modes, such as ‘finite’ or ‘infinite,’ and
not by some specific extrinsic differentiations that are ‘really distinct’ from
47 Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 26 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, p. 18): “Et ne fiat contentio de
nomine univocationis, univocum conceptum dico, quia ita est unus quod eius unitas
sufficit ad contradictionem, affirmando et negando ipsum de eodem; sufficit etiam pro
medio syllogistico, ut extrema unita in medio sic uno sine fallacia aequivocationis con-
cludantur inter se uniri.”
48 Cf. Lectura I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 21 (ed. Vatican, vol. 16, p. 232): “…est dicendum, in quo
expresse sibi contradico, quod non concipitur Deus in conceptu communi analogo sibi et
creaturae, sed in conceptu communi univoco sibi et creaturae, it quod ens et bonum
et sapientia dicta de Deo et creatura univoce dicuntur de eis, et non dicunt duos
conceptus.”
49 Ibid., I, d. 8, pars 1, q. 3, n. 82 (ed. Vatican, vol. 4, p. 190): “…‘quia Deus et creatura non sunt
primo diversa in conceptibus’; sunt tamen primo diversa in realitate, quia in nulla reali-
tate conveniunt—et quomodo possit esse conceptus communis sine convenientia in re
vel realitate…” Cf. Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 3, n. 163.
50 See Cross, “Where Angels Fear to Tread”; and Thomas Williams, “The Doctrine of
Univocity is True and Salutary,” Modern Theology 21.4 (2005): 575–585.
51 Cf. Ordinatio I, d. 8, pars 1, q. 3, n. 95–115 (ed. Vatican, vol. 4, pp. 198–207).
348 Salas
being.52 What is more, a proper concept of something resulting from the deter-
mination of a common concept (e.g., ‘being’) by an intrinsic mode (e.g., ‘finite’
or ‘infinite’) is not itself absolutely simple—or, to use Scotus’s terminology,
simpliciter simplex—although the reality designated by the proper concept
(e.g., God as signified by the concept ‘infinite being’) may itself be absolutely
simple.53
In describing the concept of being as simpliciter simplex, we are on the thresh-
old of noting a significant but overlooked difference between the Franciscan
master and Suárez. For this reason, let us pause briefly to consider the character
of this Scotistic concept so as to be able to differentiate it from the Suárezian
confused concept. For Scotus, concepts can be (1) simpliciter simplex, (2) simple,
or (3) complex; the order here is one of descending determinability, with simplic-
iter simplex being most determinable (because they are greatest in extension and
least in intension) and complex concepts being most determined. ‘Complex con-
cepts,’ explains Scotus, are those concepts requiring more than one act of the
intellect for their comprehension, as occurs, for instance, in forming the concept
‘white man.’ This concept is formed through at least two acts of the intellect as it
understands ‘white’ and ‘man,’ in a fashion such that the concept ‘white man’ can
be resolved or analyzed into more elemental concepts: ‘white’ and ‘man.’ ‘Man,’
however, is a simple concept since it can be understood by a single act of the
intellect, although it can still be further resolved into more basic concepts
(i.e., ‘rational’ and ‘animal’). Likewise, the concept ‘infinite being’ is a simple con-
cept because it is grasped by a single intellection, yet it remains resolvable into
simpler concepts: ‘infinite’ and ‘being.’ Modal determinations and differentiae
predicated in quale, and those concepts irresolvable into simpler concepts, are
simpliciter simplex—simply simple.54
52 Ibid., I, d. 8, pars 1, q. 3, n. 139 (ed. Vatican, vol. 4, p. 222): “Requiritur ergo distinctio, inter
illud a quo accipitur conceptus communis et inter illud a quo accipitur conceptus pro-
prius, non ut distinctio realitatis et realitatis sed ut distinctio realitatis et modi proprii et
intrinseci eiusdem…”
53 While there is significant similarity between the Scotistic conceptus simpliciter simplex
and the Suárezian common objective concept, there is a decisive and key difference
between the two, which will serve precisely to distinguish the two metaphysical systems.
On this distinction, see Rolf Darge, “Suárez and Medieval Transcendental Thought,” in
Hircocervi and Other Metaphysical Wonders: Essays in Honor of John P. Doyle, ed. Victor
M. Salas (Milwaukee, wi, 2013), pp. 65–93. For more on Duns Scotus’s understanding of a
conceptus simpliciter simplex, see Allan Wolter, The Transcendentals and Their Function in
the Metaphysics of Duns Scotus (St. Bonaventure, ny, 1946), pp. 81–83.
54 Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 71 (ed. Vatican, vol. 3, p. 49): “…conceptus ‘simpliciter
simplex’ est qui non est resolubilis in plures conceptus, ut conceptus entis vel ultimae
Simpliciter simplex concepts are supremely determinable, and those that

are predicated univocally in quid enjoy the greatest extension, allowing them
to be common even to those things that are utterly diverse, such as the divine
being and creatures. What is more, they provide one with an intellectual ful-
crum whereby to lever one’s reasoning from the plane of creation, and passing
through the medium of a univocal middle term, to reach positive knowledge of
the divine. Put another way, Scotus is concerned with univocity since, as he
sees it, only univocal concepts possess enough unity to make possible the valid
and sound syllogistic reasoning involved in any scientific metaphysics or theol-
ogy, to which Duns Scotus, as a theologian, is thoroughly committed. Again,
this is not to deny all forms of analogical thinking. Rather, for Scotus, if analogy
is to have any validity, it can only be on the basis of a deeper univocity where-
upon the analogical relations of ‘finite being’ to ‘infinite being’ can be estab-
lished in a meaningful fashion. Whereas for Henry the two concepts of divine
being and created being are irreducibly simple and thus irreducibly distinct
(on account of which equivocity looms as an unavoidable consequence), for
Scotus, analogical similitude must ultimately rest upon a common univocal
concept of being. Univocity thus provides for the possibility of all metaphysics
and theology. In fact, Scotus contends, all the magistri and theologians have
made use of univocity when examining the divine attributes; they contradict
themselves, however, when they claim to ascribe creaturely perfections to God
differentiae. Conceptum vero simplicem sed ‘non-simpliciter simplicem’ voco, qui-

cumque potest concipi ab intellectu actu simplicis intelligentiae, licet posset resolve in
plures conceptus, seorsum conceptibiles.” See also, Ordinatio I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 51
(ed. Vatican, vol. 4, p. 34): “Quilibet conceptus simpliciter simplex, scilicet univocationis,
est imperfectior positive quam verbum albi, hoc est non tantam perfectionem ponit;
tamen est perfectior permissive, quia abstrahit a limitatione, et ita est conceptibilis sub
infinitate: et tunc ille conceptus—simplex quidem, non tamen simpliciter simplex—sci-
licet ‘ens infinitum,’ erit perfectior verbo albi, et ille proprius Deo, non autem ille prior,
communis, abstractus ab albedine. Unde via univocationis tenet quod omnis conceptus
proprius Deo est perfectior verbo cuiuscumque creati, sed alia non sic.” Cf. Lectura I, d. 3,
pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 68 (ed. Vatican, vol. 16, p. 250): “…conceptus simplex qui concipitur una
intellectione et uno actu intelligendi, est duplex, scilicet conceptus simpliciter simplex et
conceptus non simpliciter simplex. Conceptus autem simpliciter simplex est ille concep-
tus qui non est resolubilis in alios conceptus priores; conceptus autem non simpliciter
simplex est ille qui est resolubilis in conceptus priores, ut conceptus hominis resolvitur in
conceptum generis et differentiae—et similiter definitio sic est conceptus non simplic-
iter simplex, licet simplici actu intelligendi concipiatur. Unde ille conceptus dicitur non
simplex qui pluribus actibus concipitur, sicut ens per accidens, ut ‘homo albus,’ et etiam
alia complexa.”
350 Salas
after first having removed any imperfections that follow upon a creaturely
mode of being.55
3 Suárez’s Solution to the Problem of the One and the Many
Whereas for Scotus, ‘univocity’ remained only a semantico-conceptual tool,

prescinding from any metaphysical claims, Suárez regards ‘analogy’ as both prop-
erly metaphysical and conceptual.56 That is to say, the concept of being is analogical
because of the priority and posteriority that the concept expresses, both of which
are metaphysical in character. Suárez employs his doctrine of analogy at a crucial
stage within his metaphysical project,57 where he transitions from a consideration
of the concept of being in general to a treatment of being as it descends to its infe-
riora or determinate modes (viz., infinite-finite being, substantial-accidental being,
etc.). As has already been mentioned, in the first part of the Disputationes metaphy-
sicae Suárez identified the proper object of metaphysics as the common objective
concept of being, which is utterly simple (simplicissimus) in its unity.58 Now, in
transitioning to a declension, so to speak, of ‘being’ to its inferiora, Suárez faces the
problem of faithfully mirroring the vast diversity of entia in a concept that in itself
remains absolutely simple. As we have seen, there is precedence for such a task in
Scotus, and one is hardly surprised when Suárez’s own account of the descent
of the concept of being in many ways parallels the Scotistic diversification of
being across the various disjunctive transcendentals: ‘infinite-finite,’59 ‘necessary-
contingent,’60 ‘uncreated-created,’61 and so forth.
55 Cf Lectura I, d. 3, pars 1, q. 1–2, n. 29 (ed. Vatican, vol. 16, p. 235): “…omnes magistri et the-
ologi videntur uti conceptu communi Deo et creaturae, licet contradicant verbo quando
applicant, nam in hoc conveniunt omnes quod accipiunt conceptus metaphysicales et
removendo illud quod est imperfectionis in creaturis, attribuunt Deo quod est perfectio-
nis, ut bonitatem, veritatem et sapientiam.”
56 See dm 28.3.18. Cf. with ibid., 28.3.20 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 20): “Ens autem est analogum
etiam metaphysice secundum commune objectivum conceptum, quamvis secundum
illas dialecticas definitiones videatur sub univocis commprehendi. Est ergo haec respon-
sio probabilis, nimium tamen favet univocationi entis.”
57 Viz., dm 28, the beginning of the second part of the Disputationes metaphysicae.
58 Cf. dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “In hac ergo disputatione, praecipue intendimus
explicare conceptum objectivum entis ut sic, secundum totam abstractionem suam,
secundum quam diximus esse metaphysicae objectum…”
59 Cf. Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 8, pars 1, q. 3, nn. 14, 15 (ed. Vatican, vol. 4, p. 206, 207); Suárez, dm
28.1.1-5.
60 Cf. Scotus, ibid.; Suárez, ibid., 28.1.8-12.
61 Cf. Suárez, ibid., 28.1.14.
There is, however, a crucial difference between the Suárezian and Scotistic
accounts. For Suárez, while the concept of being prescinds from all its inferiors
and thereby retains its own inviolable unity, the unity proper to the conceptus
entis does not amount to univocity. Univocity, according to Suárez, implies
indifference as predicated of its inferiora, but the concept of being, we are told,
implies an ordered relation that flies in the face of univocity.62 Suárezian anal-
ogy thus involves two major elements, namely, (1) the unity of the concept of
being, and (2) an ordered relation that is represented in that very concept
itself. We shall now take each of these up in turn.
3.1 The Unity of the Concept of Being

Suárez’s concern for preserving the unity of the concept of being, as was the
case with Scotus, very much has to do with maintaining the scientific character
of metaphysics.63 The Jesuit approaches the unity of the conceptus entis against
the backdrop of a by-then common scholastic distinction between objective
and formal concepts.64 A formal concept, Suárez explains, is the act itself of
the intellect intending an object, by virtue of which some thing or common
feature is known.65 The objective concept, however, is that thing or ratio that is
immediately known or represented through the formal concept.66 Properly
speaking, it is a concept only by means of extrinsic denomination; it is
the thing itself, but under the aspect of its being known or apprehended.67
Suárez further explains that while a formal concept, inasmuch as it is a quality
62 See dm 28.3.17.
63 For a critical treatment of Suárez’s epistemological commitments in relation to his doc-
trine of analogy, see Francisco L. Peccorini, “Suárez’s Struggle with the Problem of the
One and the Many,” The Thomist 36 (1972): 433–471.
64 Cf. Pedro da Fonseca, In libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis Stagirita (Cologne, 1615), lib. 4,
c. 2, q. 1, sec. 1: “Conceptus formalis nihil est aliud, quam actualis similitudo rei, quae intel-
ligitur, ab intellectu ad eam exprimendam producta.”
65 dm 2.1.1 (ed. Vìves, vol. 25, p. 64): “…conceptus formalis dicitur actus ipse, seu (quod idem
est) verbum quo intellectus rem aliquam seu communem rationem concipit…” Cf. John
P. Doyle, “Suarez on the Analogy of Being (Parts 1 and 2),” The Modern Schoolman 46
(1969): p. 226.
66 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “Conceptus objectivus dicitur res illa, vel ratio, quae proprie
et immediate per conceptum formalem cognoscitur seu repraesentatur…” Cf. Doyle,
“Suárez on Analogy,” p. 226.
67 Ibid., 2.1.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…non est conceptus ut forma intrinsece terminans
conceptionem, sed ut objectum et materia circa quam versatur formalis conceptio, et ad
quam mentis acies directe tendit…”; ibid., 2.2.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 70): “…sed conceptus
objectivus nihil aliud est quam objectum ipsum, ut cognitum vel apprehensum per talem
conceptum formalem…” Cf. Doyle, “Suárez on Analogy,” p. 226.
352 Salas
inherent in the intellect,68 is always singular or an individual thing, an objec-

tive concept can be an individual thing, a universal,69 or even something that
lacks any positive reality altogether, such as a privation or being of reason.70
The relationship between formal and objective concepts, and especially the
fact that the latter may include universals or particulars, is of special impor-
tance to Suárez’s task of developing a science of being as such. Prescinding
from all particular, incidental, and contingent conditions that accrue to being
in its real instantiations, the objective concept of being satisfies the require-
ments of an Aristotelian science since it considers being per se. Because the
objective concept can represent the universal and essential properties of being
as such, it can serve as the adequate object of metaphysics.71 Thus, through a
single concept, all beings, whatever be their mode or categorial determination,
can be considered in terms of their community or commonality, that is to say,
in terms of the fact that each stands outside of nothing.72
For the metaphysician, the objective concept of being also has the salutary
character of bridging the gulf between finite and infinite being, but, again, only
under the condition that it leave behind or prescind from all differences or
determinations proper to specific kinds of being. Because the objective con-
cept is denuded, as it were, of all such specifying conditions, it enjoys a unity
68 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…formalis semper est vera ac positiva res et in creaturis
qualitas menti inhaerens…”
69 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “Item conceptus formalis semper est res singularis et indi-
vidua, quia est res producta per intellectum, eique inhaerens; conceptus autem objecti-
vus interdum quidem esse potest res singularis, et individua, quatenus menti objici
potest, et per actum formalem concipi, saepe vero est res universalis vel confusa et com-
munis, ut est homo, substantia et similia.” Cf. Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” p. 226.
70 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 65): “…objectivus vero non semper est vera res positiva; concipi-
mus enim interdum privationes, et alia, quae vocantur entia rationis, quia solum habent
esse objective in intellectu.”
71 dm 6.5.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 223): “Et hoc modo dicitur esse scientia de universalibus, et
non de singularibus, non quia sit de nominibus et non singularibus, sed quia est de con-
ceptibus objectivis communibus, qui, licet in re ipsa non distinguantur a singularibus,
distinguuntur tamen ratione…Quod non satis adverterunt Nominales, et ideo aliter locuti
sunt, quamvis in re non multum a nobis differant, ut diximus.” For Aristotle’s account of a
science, see Posterior Analytics, 1.18.81a37-81b9. Cf. Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” p. 229. For
common objective concept of being identified as object of metaphysics, see dm 2.1.1, text
cited in n. 58 supra.
72 dm 2.2.8 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 72): “Dico ergo primo, conceptui formali entis respondere
unum conceptum obiectivum adaequatum, et immediatum, qui expresse non dicit sub-
stantiam, neque accidens, neque Deum, nec creaturam, sed haec omnia per modum
unius, scilicet quatenus sunt inter se aliquo modo similia, et conveniunt in essendo.”
unto itself that would be compromised were any particular modes or kinds of
being considered. Concerned with preserving the unity of the objective con-
cept, Suárez warns us:
[I]f the character of being [ratio entis] just as it is in God essentially

includes something other than it does in a creature, then that character
[ratio] cannot be one in such a way that it is represented by one formal
concept and that it constitutes one objective concept; for it cannot be
understood that in one concept as such there would be an essential
variety.73
Moreover, if being cannot be known through one concept, nothing could be

known of God, since finite and infinite being would be equivocal, which is the
point Scotus had made. In short, both metaphysics and theology would suc-
cumb to the fallacy of equivocation and thereby abandon their scientific char-
acter. Thus, if the objective concept of being preserves a basic unity under
which all beings fall, it could serve as a medium of demonstration (medium
demonstrationis) across diverse orders or modes of being, thereby preserving
the scientific character of metaphysics.74
Without a doubt, Scotus and Suárez share a great deal in common, espe-
cially in their fidelity to the sacrosanct unity of the conceptus entis. One is
hardly surprised that when Suárez addresses the question of whether being is
said analogously of God and creature, he hears the Scotistic position with great
sympathy. Reporting that position, Suárez writes: “[S]ince being immediately
signifies one concept common to God and creature; it is therefore not said of
them analogically, but univocally.”75 The Jesuit tells his reader that he agrees
with the antecedent, the demonstration of which is provided in the first
disputation of his own work.76 Suárez even admits that being is very similar to
73 Ibid., 28.3.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 15): “…si ratio entis, prout est in Deo, aliud essentialiter
includit quam ut in creatura, ergo non potest illa ratio ita esse una, ut uno conceptu for-
mali repraesentetur et unum conceptum obiectivum constituat; nam intelligi non potest,
quod in conceptu uno ut sic, sit varietas essentialis.”
74 Cf. ibid., 28.3.15 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 18): “Denique jam supra ostensum est, ens uno con-
ceptu dici de omibus sub illo contentis, ideoque posse esse medium demonstrationis, et
rationem entis in creaturis inventam posse esse initium inveniendi simile rationem alti-
ori modo in creatore existentem.”
75 Ibid., 28.3.2 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 13): “…quia ens immediate significant conceptum unum
commune Deo et creaturis; ergo non dicitur de illis analogice, sed univoce.”
76 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 13): “Antecedens probatum a nobis est in disputatione prima
hujus operis.”
354 Salas
univocal terms because it can be predicated simply of God and creature by

means of one concept.77 Nevertheless, he rejects the Scotistic conclusion. The
obvious question here is: how can Suárez, in embracing the absolute unity of
the concept of being, avoid drawing the same conclusion as Scotus? If any-
thing, it seems that admitting the interplay of similarity and dissimilarity
involved in analogy would compromise the unity of the concept of being. To
answer this concern, we are led to the second element of Suárez’s doctrine of
analogy noted above, namely, the ontological implications of the concept of
being insofar as it is analogical.
3.2 The Expression of an Ordered Relation

Scotus was clear on what he meant by univocity78; so, too, was Suárez.
As already noted, according to Suárez, that is univocal “which, of itself, is indif-
ferent such that it descends equally to its inferiors and without any order or
relation of one to another,”79 which is to say that the univocity or analogicity
of a concept is determined according to the relation it has to its inferiora.80 As
Suárez sees it, the concept of being does not exhibit indifference in relation to
its inferiora, since:
Being itself, however abstractly and confusedly (confuse) conceived, of

itself demands this order: first, through itself and completely, as it were,
it agrees with God and through that descends to remaining things,
in which it [i.e., being] is because of a relationship to and dependence
on God.81
Pertaining first (per prius) to God and secondarily (per posterius) to creatures,
being does not descend indifferently—as would be required for univocal con-
cepts—to its inferiors, nor is it predicated equally of them, which leads to the
77 Ibid., 28.3.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 19): “…sine dubio habet ens magnam smilitudinem
cum terminis univocis, cum medio uno conceptu absolute et sine addito de Deo et
creatura praedicetur, quam solam convenientiam considerarunt, qui illud univocum
appellarunt…”
78 See n. 47 supra.
79 dm 28.3.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 19): “…nam univocum ex se ita est indifferens, ut aequali-
ter, et sine ullo ordine vel habitudine unius ad alterum, ad inferior descendat…”
80 See D. Heider, “Is Suárez’ Concept of Being Analogical or Univocal?” p. 28.
81 dm 28.3.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 19): “…quia ipsum ens quantumvis abstracte et confuse
conceptum, ex vi sua postulat hunc ordinem, ut primo ac per se, et quasi complete com-
petat Deo, et per illud descendat ad reliqua, quibus non insit, nisi cum habitudine et
dependentia Deo…”
following questions: (1) what is the reason for the ordered relation expressed in
the concept of being, and (2) how can that relation be expressed in a unified
conceptus objectivus entis that is simplicissimus?
To answer the first question, one might simply advert to the unequal rela-
tions of priority and posteriority contained in Thomas Aquinas’s metaphysics
of participation, which, in many ways, provides the basis for the Angelic
Doctor’s own doctrine of analogy.82 God, in the common medieval and scho-
lastic view, is being itself, or being per essentiam. Creatures, however, have
being only per participationem, and in their participation enjoy a similitude to
the divine being.83 Summarizing Thomas’s thinking on the matter, Suárez
writes: “A creature is essentially a being through its participation in the being
that is in God by essence and as in the first and universal font from whom some
participation of it to all others is derived.”84 In other words, every creature is—
that is, has being—only on account of its ontological relationship to and
dependence upon God.85 Thomas, as we have suggested, appeals to this meta-
physical relationship and finds in it the basis for his doctrine of analogy, and
since here the relationship is one wherein the effect does not equate to the
total power of its cause, any univocal community is impeded.86
82 For more on the relationship between participation and analogy in Thomas, see Rudi
A. Te Velde, Participation and Substantiality in Thomas Aquinas (Leiden, 1995), c. 6. Note
also Montagnes, La doctrine de l’analogie, p. 10: “Participation, causalité et analogie son les
trois aspects sous lequels la philosophie aborde l’être…”
83 Cf., e.g., Thomas, In Sent., I, d. 48, q. 1, a. 1; st I, q. 4, aa. 2, 3.
84 dm 28.3.16 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 18): “…creatura essentialiter est ens, per participationem
ejus esse, quod in Deo est per essentiam et ut in primo et universali fonte, ex quo ad
omnia alia derivatur aliqua ejus participatio…”
85 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 18): “…omnis ergo creatura est ens per aliquam habitudinem ad
Deum, quatenus scilicet participat, vel aliquo modo imitatur esse Dei, et quatenus habet
esse, essentialiter pendet a Deo, multo magis, quam pendeat accidens a substantia.”
86 Suárez (not inaccurately) summarizes Thomas’s position as follows (dm 28.3.8 [ed. Vivès,
vol. 26, p. 15]): “…ratio entis dicitur esse in Deo per essentiam, in creaturis vero per partici-
pationem. Item dicitur esse in illo quasi totaliter, id est, quasi unite complectens totum
ens, in aliis vero quasi divisa per partes; ergo longe inferiori et inadaequato modo reperi-
tur ratio entis in creaturis respectu Dei, et consequenter non dicitur de illis univoce,
neque secundum eamdem omnino rationem…” Compare this passage with Thomas’s
own account in In Sent., I, d. 48, q. 1, a. 1 (ed. Mandonnet, vol. 1, p. 1080): “…unum quod
participative habet formam, imitatur illud quod essentialiter habet… Et talis similitude
quae ponit compositionem in uno et simplicitatem in alio, potest esse creaturae ad Deum
participantis bonitatem vel sapientiam, vel aliquid hujusmodi, quorum unumquodque in
Deo est essential ejus…”; cf. also ibid., I, d. 8, q. 1, a. 2 (ed. Mandonnet, vol. 1, p. 198): “…est
tertius modus causae agentis analogice. Unde patet quod divinum esse producit esse
356 Salas
Interestingly and significantly, Suárez does not avail himself of Thomas’s

argument for the reason that, though it effectively demonstrates the non-uni-
vocity of being, in adverting to the difference between being per essentiam and
being per participationem, the argument goes ‘too far’ and compromises the
unity of the common conceptus entis.87 Suárez goes on to argue:
[I]f the character [ratio] of being as it is in God essentially includes some-

thing other than as it is in a creature, that character [ratio] cannot be one
such that it would be represented by one formal concept and constituted
by one objective concept, for one cannot understand that in one concept
as such there be an essential variety.88
Similar to the conceptus simpliciter simplex, the unity of the concept of being,
according to Suárez, prescinds from any and all determinations, for were it to
include any determinations, it would not be a simple concept of ‘being,’ but
instead the concepts ‘essential being’ or ‘participatory being,’ ‘finite being’ or
‘infinite being,’ ‘substance’ or ‘accident,’ and so forth, none of which can be
known by one concept.89
Nevertheless, Suárez points out that the unitary concept of being prescinds
from any and all determinations, not in such a way that those determinations
are denied, but rather, they are simply left out of consideration, such that—
leaving behind any differentia that would contract or specify ‘being’ to this or
that kind of being—one is left with a unified concept that lacks any differen-
tiation or division within itself. But now a further question arises: how can
Suárez preserve the unitary concept of being, prescinding from all essential
variations, determinations, differences, et cetera, and simultaneously main-
tain that this simple concept somehow expresses an order of priority and
creaturae in similitudine sui imperfecta: et ideo esse divinum dicitur esse omnium rerum,
a quo omne esse creatum effective et exemplariter manat.”
87 dm 28.3.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 15): “…nimirum non solum probarent ens non esse univo-
cum, sed etiam non habere unum commune conceptum objectivum Deo et creaturis,
quod in superioribus probavimus falsum esse…”
88 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 15): “…si ratio entis, prout in Deo, aliud essentialiter includit,
quam ut in creatura, ergo non potest illa ratio ita esse una, ut uno conceptu formali
repraesentetur et unum conceptum objectivum constituat; nam intelligi non potest,
quod in conceptu uno ut sic, sit varietas essentialis.”
89 Ibid., 28.3.18 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 20): “Nam ens, prout includens inferiora secundum pro-
prias rationes, non est ens tantum, sed est en finitum et infinitum, substantia et accidens,
et caetera, quae sicut non possunt secundum prorias rationes uno conceptu a nobis con-
cipi, ita nec uno nomine significari…”
posteriority? In other words, how can one think difference in the self-same
simplicity of the objective concept of being?
One noted Suárez interpreter, John P. Doyle, has observed this same tension
in the Suárezian doctrine of analogy and suggests that the Jesuit’s notion of
‘aptitudinal being’ is the key to unlocking the difficulty.90 Suárez’s account of
aptitudinal being emerges against the backdrop of yet another common scho-
lastic distinction,91 namely, that between being taken either as a participle or
as a noun. As a participle, ‘being’ signifies that which exercises actual—as
opposed to merely possible—existence.92 Nominal being (i.e., being taken as a
noun) has an even greater extension than participial being, and signifies not
only an actually existent being but also ‘being in potency,’ as well as ‘being
inasmuch as it is apt to exist.’93 This latter division of being (i.e., nominal being)
includes both possible being94 (i.e., a being with a real essence but whose
actual existence is negated) and aptitudinal being95 (i.e., a real being whose
consideration does not add a negation of actual existence but simply
prescinds, that is to say, abstracts from that existence without excluding
or denying it).96 Whether Suárez identifies possible being with aptitudinal
being tout court is a scholarly controversy into which we need not presently
90 Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” p. 323ff.

91 The previous distinction identified was that between formal and objective concepts.
92 dm 2.4.3 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 88): “Ens ergo, ut dictum est, interdum sumitur ut parÂ�
ticipium verbi sum, et ut sic significant actum essendi, ut exercitum, estque idem quod
existens actu…”
93 Ibid. (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 88): “…interdum vero sumitur ut nomen significans de formali
essentiam ejus rei, quae habet vel potest habere esse, non ut exercitum actu, sed in poten-
tia vel aptitudine…” Given that being as a noun (ens ut nomen) signifies actual, potential,
and aptitudinal being, it has greater extension than does participial being and becomes
the object of Suárez’s metaphysics, the science of all being, whether actual or only possi-
ble. Cf. Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” p. 228.
94 Cf. ibid., 2.4.1 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 91): “…negationem seu privationem addit ens in
potentia.”
95 Cf. ibid., 2.4.9 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 90): “…ens secundum illam duplicem acceptionem non
significare duplicem rationem entis, dividentem aliquam commune rationem, seu con-
ceptum commune, sed significare conceptum entis, magis vel minus praecisum: ens enim
in vi nominis sumptum significant id, quod habet essentiam realem, praescindendo ab
actuali existentia, non quidem excludendo illam, seu negando, sed praecisive tantum
abstrahendo… Ita ergo ens non significat conceptum aliquem commune enti nominaliter
et participaliter sumpto, sed immediate habet suplicem significationem, qua significant,
vel ens praescindendo ab actuali existentia, vel ens actu existens.”
96 For more on the difference between possible and aptitudinal being, see Pereira, Suárez,
pp. 107–109, 129–131.
358 Salas
enter.97 Here, it will be sufficient to note that, as Suárez understands it, aptitu-
dinal being signifies at least this much: something inasmuch as it is apt to exist.
Accordingly, aptitudinal being denotes a certain relationship or order to exis-
tence, and it is this ‘order,’ as we shall see, that is of chief importance for the
Suárezian doctrine of analogy.98
What is fundamentally at issue here for Suárez as he unfolds his doctrine of
analogy is the relationship between the absolutely simple and unified ratio
entis and its diverse modal determinations. Scotus, as we saw, dealt with this
same issue. While not going so far as to admit a distinctio in re between ‘being’
and its mode, Scotus posits a weaker, so to speak, modal distinction (which
precedes any operation of the intellect) between ‘being’ and its mode. For
Suárez, however, the distinction between ‘being’ and its mode is a distinctio
rationis ratiocinate that, while having a foundation in reality (cum fundamento
in re), has less a basis in reality than it does in the intellect. Suárez describes
such a distinction as follows:
[It] is formed through inadequate concepts of the same thing; for although
the same thing is conceived through each [concept], through neither, how-
ever, is all that is in the thing exactly conceived, nor is its entire quiddity and
its objective character [ratio] exhausted, which [distinction] is often made
conceiving that thing through a relationship to diverse things or to their mode;
and therefore such a distinction always has a foundation in reality, formally,
however, it is said to be made by inadequate concepts of the same thing.99
97 See Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers, pp. 98–99. Pereira argues against Gilson’s inter-
pretation in Suárez, p. 120, 121. Stemming from the Gilsonian tradition, see also Doyle,
“Suarez on the Reality of the Possibles,” The Modern Schoolman 44 (1967): 29–48. For
another view, see Ludger Honnefelder, Scientia transcendens Die Formale Bestimmung Der
Seiendheit Und Realitat in Der Metaphysik Des Mittelalters Und Der Neuzeit (Duns Scotus,
Suarez, Wolff, Kant, Peirce) (Hamburg, 1990), p. 264, 265, 293.
98 dm 2.3.14 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 92): “…quamvis ergo actu esse non sit de essentia creaturae,
tamen ordo ad esse, vel aptitudo essendi est de intrinseco et essentiali conceptu ejus;
atque hoc modo ens praedicatum est essentiale…”; cf. Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” p. 326,
327.
99 Ibid., 7.1.5 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 251): “…fit per conceptus inadequatos eiusdem rei; nam,
licet per utrumque eadem res concipiatur, per neutrum tamen exacte concipitur totum
id, quod est in re, neque exhauritur tota quidditas, et ratio obiectiva ejus, quod saepe fit
concipiendo rem illam per habitudinem ad res diversas, vel ad modum earum, et ideo
talis distinctio semper habet fundamentum in re, formaliter autem dicetur fieri per con-
ceptus inadequatos eiusdem rei.” Cf. Pereira, Suárez, p. 71; Heider, “Is Suárez’s Concept of
Being Analogical or Univocal?”
The distinction between ‘being’ and its mode, though having a basis in real-
ity, arises as a function of our conceptualization.100 We can either conceive
something more confusedly (i.e., in a less determined or inadequate way) or,
tuning our conception more finely as one focuses a microscope, we can con-
ceive the same reality in accordance with its particular determination. Given
(1) Suárez’s realist commitment and the direct proportional relationship he
ascribes to knowing and reality, that is to say, between formal and objective
concepts,101 and (2) given the fact that there is no distinction ex natura rei
between being and its modes, it follows for Suárez that there is no real dis-
tinction between the objective concept of being and its inferiors. Therefore,
Suárez holds that the objective concept of (aptitudinal) being includes
within itself all the determinations and differences of its inferiora.102 Daniel
Heider elegantly expresses Suárez’s unique teaching regarding the concept
of being as follows: “There is a certain duality in the objective concept of
being, which allows us to consider the objective concept of being both as the
subject and as the terminus of the descent.”103 Such being the case, the rela-
tion or order to existence that aptitudinal being carries with it is preserved in
its (confused) conceptual expression. In a passage that deserves quoting at
length, Suárez explains:
[A]lthough the common concept [of being as such], as abstract, is one in

itself, however, the reasons constituting the particular beings are diverse,
and by them, as such, each is constituted absolutely in the existence of
being. Then…the common concept of itself postulates such a determina-
tion with the order and relationship to one [or to a single Being]; and
therefore, just as this concept is one, it is not altogether the same, because
it is not of itself altogether uniform—a uniformity and identity which
100 Cf. ibid., 2.3.12 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 86): “…cavendum est ne modum concipiendi nostrum
transferamus ad res ipsas, et propter diversum loquendi modum existimemus esse dis-
tinctionem in rebus, ubi vere non est.”
101 Cf. ibid., 2.2.24; on this point, see Pereira, Suárez, pp. 136–139, 173–174. Pereira locates the
beginning of modernity’s turn toward subjectivity with this particular passage of Suárez.
Pereira argues that Suárez anticipates Descartes’s turn towards the subjective as the mea-
sure and standard of reality by making the formal concept, which is better known (notior),
the standard and measure of the objective concept.
102 Cf. Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” p. 327. In this regard, Heider rightly notes: “…we can
understand the inferiora both as the very objective concepts of being, and also as inferiora
of the objective concept of being” (art. cit., p. 36).
103 Heider, “Is Suárez’s Concept of Being Analogical or Univocal?,” p. 36.
360 Salas
univocals require in their meaning—and it is in this manner that the

definition of univocals ought to be explained.104
Parting from the Scotistic position, which holds that the conceptus entis is sim-
pliciter simplex,105 Suárez holds, in contrast, that the concept of being is a con-
fused one and expresses diverse rationes or relations to existence.106 To say
that the conceptus entis is ‘confused’ is to say that it is indistinct and, as such, it
includes in itself its inferiors, not explicitly or in terms of their specific unique-
ness, but as leaving aside (though not denying or rejecting) that specificity,
whereby the concept attains a consideration of its inferiora in terms of their
community in existence (in essendo). In other words, the conceptus entis is
nothing other than its inferiors. While being transcends its inferiora presci-
sively and thereby attains a unity unto itself, it nevertheless remains ‘intimately
transcendent,’ as Suárez puts it: “[T]he character of being [ratio entis] [is] tran-
scendent and intimately included in all properties and in all determinate kinds
of being, and in the determinate modes of being themselves.”107 Again, in con-
trast to the Scotistic position, being in its descent to its inferiors does not
descend equally and thus precludes the possibility of univocity, since, as we
have seen, univocity demands an equal descent or indifference, which is
incommensurate with the relation of priority or posteriority that the Suárezian
concept of being demands.108 Accordingly, the confused objective concept of
104 dm 28.3.21 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 21): “Deinde (quod ad rem maxime spectat) ipsamet ratio
communis ex se postulat talem determinationem cum ordine et habitudine ad unum, et
ideo, licet secundum confusam rationem sit eadem, sicut est una, nihilominus non est
omnino eadem, quia non est ex se omnino uniformis, quam uniformitatem et identita-
tem requirunt univoca in ratione sua, et ita debet definitio univocorum exponi.”
105 See, e.g., Scotus, Ordinatio I, d. 3, p. 1, q. 1–2, 49, n. 71; Lectura I, d. 2, p. 1, q. 1–2, 118, 119, n. 24;
cf. Étienne Gilson, Jean Duns Scot, p. 95, 96, n. 2; cf. Richard Cross, Duns Scotus: Great
Medieval Thinkers (Oxford, 1999), p. 38, 39.
106 Cf. dm 26.3.21; ibid., 2.6.7 (ed. Vivès, vol. 25, p. 101): “Sic igitur his conceptibus formalibus
intelliguntur correspondere duo objectivi simplices, et irresolubiles in plures conceptus,
quorum unus dicitur superior vel abstractior alio, solum quia respondet confusiori con-
ceptui formali, per quem non concipitur res secundum determinatum modum quo est in
se, sed confuse et praecise.”
107 Ibid., 28.3.21 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 21): “…rationem entis esse transcendentem, et intime
inclusam in omnibus propriis ac determinatis rationibus entium, et in ipsis modis deter-
minantibus ipsum ens…”; cf. Pereira, Suárez, p. 74, and Heider, “Is Suárez’s Concept of
Being Analogical or Univocal?”
108 Ibid., 28.3.17 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 19): “…nam univocum ex se ita est indifferens, ut aequali-
ter, et sine ullo ordine vel habitudine unius ad alterum, ad inferiora descendat…”
aptitudinal being provides Suárez with a means of preserving the simplicity or

unity that the concept of being requires, while opening a space within that
very concept for dissimilarity or inequality of relations on account of which
the concept is analogical. Suárez offers the following as a succinct summary of
his doctrine of analogy:
But in fact this analogy of being is entirely founded in and arises from
things themselves that are subordinated to and of necessity refer to one
inasmuch as they are beings; and therefore the name of being could not
be imposed to signify confusedly that which has being, without conse-
quently having to signify many [things] with a relation to one; and that
would be an analogy, not through transference, but through a true and
proper signification.109
4 Conclusion
Whether or not the confused concept of being constitutes a completely

satisfactory answer to the problem of the one and the many ultimately
depends upon the coherence of Suárez’s complete teaching on aptitudinal
being, considered in its own right. Some have pointed out certain difficul-
ties involved in Suárez’s account, claiming that it goes too far in granting a
kind of quasi-positive reality to merely possible beings, apart even from
God’s creative causality,110 thus taking a step towards the ‘tinologies’ of
early modern philosophy.111 Others find in the Suárezian conception of
being an instance of Seinsvergessenheit,112 which goes hand-in-hand with
onto-theology, the dreaded monster of so many postmodern theorists.113
109 Ibid., 28.3.22 (ed. Vivès, vol. 26, p. 21): “At vero haec analogia entis omnino fundatur, et
oritur ex rebus ipsis, quae ita sunt subordinatae, ut necessario ad unum referantur, quate-
nus entia sunt, ideoque non potuit nomen entis imponi ad significandum confuse
id, quod habet esse, quin consequenter habuerit significare multa cum habitudine ad
unum, atque ita fuerit analogum, non per translationem, sed per veram et propriam
significationem.”
110 Cf. Doyle, “Suarez on Analogy,” pp. 335–341.
111 Cf. Courtine, Suarez et le système de la métaphysique, p. 533ff.
112 Cf. Doyle, “Heidegger and Scholastic Metaphysics,” The Modern Schoolman 49 (1972):
201–220.
113 See Marion, Sur la theologie blanche de Descartes, esp. c. 6; John Milbank, The Word Made
Strange: Theology, Language, Culture (Oxford, 1997), pp. 40–41. For a critical appraisal of
362 Salas
Space prevents pursuing the issue further, and so I must be content here
with only having touched upon Suárez’s account of aptitudinal being vis-à-vis
the confused concept, insofar as it pertains to his teaching on analogy. Loose
ends notwithstanding, it is safe to say that this Suárezian notion of aptitudinal
being as represented through a confused concept does indeed constitute an
original contribution to the solution of the problem of the one and the many.
It is a solution that clearly departs from the Thomistic doctrine of analogy
insofar as Thomas proceeds on the basis of a radical diversity within real being
that finds its unity only within God who, as being itself, is the measure of all
participated being. The danger here, at least as Suárez sees it, is one we have
already noted: the unity of the concept of being would seem to be compro-
mised. At the same time, despite the concern for preserving the conceptual
unity of being that Suárez shares with Scotus, the confused concept of (aptitu-
dinal) being wards off all indifference proper to the univocal conceptus simplic-
iter simplex. In short, one can well understand the Suárezian doctrine of
analogy as lying somewhere between Thomism and Scotism.
Radical Orthodoxy’s indictment of Suárez regarding onto-theology, see Richard

Cross, “Duns Scotus and Suárez on the Origins of Modernity,” in Deconstructing Radical
Orthodoxy: Postmodern Theology, Rhetoric and Truth, ed. Wayne Hankey and Douglas
Hedley (Burlington, vt, 2005), pp. 65–80.
Epilogue
The fourteen chapters of this volume do not claim to touch every aspect of
Suárez’s thought—for indeed his oeuvre is enormous! The essays, however, do
highlight a number of elements of particular importance for the study of
Suárez, while pointing as well to areas for further research.
One theme that emerges clearly from the present study is the breadth and
originality of the Spanish Jesuit. As José Pereira notes in his contribution, the
Opera Omnia of the Doctor eximius consists of fourteen books, twenty-six vol-
umes, and around twenty-one million words. Although Suárez primarily con-
sidered himself a theologian, one may argue that his most outstanding
contribution to the history of thought might be his systematization of meta-
physics. Here, the Jesuit thinker not only added order to chaos, but he also
generated profoundly original theories that went beyond the common meta-
physical currency of his time. As noted at the opening of this volume, there has
been a tendency to regard Suárez as a ‘channel’ through which Greek philoso-
phy and scholasticism passed through to modernity.1 While there can be little
doubt about Suárez’s importance to the history of philosophy, the creative
originality of his own thought makes the Doctor eximius much more than a
mere conduit or custodial vessel of sacred wisdom. Several chapters in the
present volume have shown that Suárez moved well beyond the metaphysics
of Aristotle, as well as those of Aquinas and Scotus, so as to create a ‘super-
system’ of his own.
At the end of the day, Suárez is neither a Thomist nor a Scotist (nor any
other ‘-ist’ one may choose to add). Nevertheless, his abiding reverence for
these bastions of scholasticism, his thorough familiarity with their doctrines
down to the minutest detail, and his willingness to give all a fair hearing have
led some, at best, to identify Suárez as a (confused) member of one of the
above-mentioned schools, or, at worst, to cast him aside as merely an eclectic
thinker with no synthetic insight of his own. Along these lines, Gilson once
wrote that in evaluating various philosophical theses, Suárez would—much
like a “dispassionate judge” who “never wanders far from the truth”—content
“himself with a ‘near miss’.”2 If Suárez were aiming for a re-presentation of a
Thomistic or a Scotistic position, then, yes, the Doctor eximius may well have
1 Armand Maurer and Martin Heidegger have made such suggestions; cf. the opening chapter,
pp. 1, 27, 28 supra.
2 Cf. Gilson, Being and Some Philosophers, 99.

364 Epilogue
missed the mark—and sometimes by miles! But Suárez knew exactly what he
was aiming at, and it was the articulation of a metaphysical system that, while
sharing a common vocabulary with many other scholastics, was reducible to
none. Gilson was certainly correct when he said that, in considering Suárez’s
metaphysics vis-à-vis someone like Thomas Aquinas, at some point one must
reach “absolutely primitive positions and…primitive philosophical options.”3
Nothing could be truer. Yet here, one must recognize precisely the truly pri-
mordial and irreducible character of those positions, and not lament their lack
of identity or even incompatibility. The contributions of Darge, Heider,
Renemann, and Salas, in particular, have sought to make this point clear by
emphasizing the unique features of Suárez’s metaphysical thought. Suárez is
very much his own man—whether discussing the subject of metaphysics, the
epistemology of universals, the nature of concepts, the meaning of analogy, or
beings of reason.
Accordingly, students of metaphysics need to understand the Suárezian
system according to its own logic. The days are gone when facile descriptions
of Suárez as an essentialist or a voluntarist can be taken seriously. More and
more historians of philosophy are recognizing the place of the Doctor eximius
in the history of metaphysics, as the chapters in this book have suggested—
especially those of Courtine, Pereira, Novotný, and Esposito.
Also, as the contributions by Pace, Coujou, and Knuuttila have shown,
Suárez’s contributions to natural law, political philosophy, and psychology are
of enormous importance. He certainly sustained the tradition of members of
the Salamanca school, such as Francisco de Vitoria, but he also made consider-
able contributions of his own. The De legibus is an indisputable testimony to
that fact. Here, once again, Suárez cannot be easily classified under any cate-
gory or school, although he is clearly steeped in the Aristotelian scholastic tra-
dition and presents it compellingly, according to the architectonic vision of his
mind. While Suárez always consults his tradition and draws upon the insights
from many of its greatest members, as the present volume has shown, he is not
shy to defend his own conclusions.
A number of chapters in this volume have explored theological themes,
namely, those of Fastiggi and Kronen. Others, such as Coujou, Esposito, and
Pace, show how Suárez’s philosophical writings (e.g., on law and metaphysics)
are informed by Christian categories. Suárez the theologian, however, remains
a largely unexplored area. While articles touching on his theology of grace,
Mariology, and Christology appear from time to time, there is so much left to
3 Ibid., 103.
Epilogue 365
study in the future, especially with regard to his theological anthropology, sac-
ramental theology, and ecclesiology.
The authors of the present volume hope, then, that Francisco Suárez will be
appreciated for who he is: a brilliant and original thinker, as well as one of the
greatest theologians and philosophers, not only of the Catholic Church, but of
history itself.
Bibliography
By far, the most comprehensive bibliography compiled with respect to Francisco

Suárez is that of Jean-Paul Coujou, Bibliografía suareciana, Cuadernos de Pensamiento
Español (Pamplona: Universidad de Navarra, 2010). The editors of the present volume
would be hard pressed to supply a more comprehensive listing. Nevertheless, we offer
the following in the hope that it will serve as a point of departure for those interested
not only in the thought of Francisco Suárez, but also in medieval and scholastic phi-
losophy in general.
1 Opera Omnia Francesci Suarii
Francisco Suárez, Opera omnia, ed. Vivès. Paris, 1856–1877, 28 vols. + 1 vol. Unedited
Opuscula, 1859:
Vol. 1 (1856): De divina substantia ejusque attributis, De divina praedestinatione et repro-
batione, De Trinitas mysterio.
Vol. 2 (1856): De angelis.
Vol. 3 (1856): De opera sex dierum, De anima.
Vol. 4 (1856): De ultimo fine hominis, De voluntario et involuntario, De bonitate et malitia
humanorum actuum, De passionibus.
Vol. 5 (1856): De legibus ac Deo legislatore (books I–V).
Vol. 6 (1856): De legibus ac Deo legislatore (books VI–X).
Vol. 7 (1857): De gratia.
Vol. 8 (1857–1858): De auxiliis gratiae in generali.
Vol. 9 (1858): De essentia gratiae.
Vol. 10 (1858): De merito.
Vol. 11 (1858): De concursu, motione et auxilio Dei; De scientiae Dei futurum contingen-
tium; De auxilio efficacy; De libertate divinae voluntatis; De meritis mortificatis, et per
poenitentiam reparatis; De justitia qua Deus reddit praemia meritis, et poenas pro
peccatis.
Vol. 12 (1858): De fide, De spe, De caritate.
Vol. 13 (1859): De virtute et statu religionis (tractati I–III).
Vol. 14 (1859): De virtute et statu religionis (tractati IV–VI).
Vol. 15 (1859): De virtute et statu religionis (tractatus VII).
Vols. 16 & 16bis (1866): De virtute et statu religionis (tractati VIII–X).
Vol. 17 (1866): De Incarnatione, III, qq. 1–9.
368 Bibliography
Vol. 20 (1866): De sacramentis, De baptism, De confirmation, De eucharistia, III, qq.

60–74.
Vol. 21 (1866): De eucharistia, III, qq. 75–83.
Vol. 22 (1866): De poenitentia, III, qq. 84–90.
Vol. 23 (1866): De censuris, De excommunicatione.
Vol. 23bis (1866): De suspensione, De interdicto, De irregularitate.
Vol. 24 (1859): Defensio fidei catholicae adversus anglicanae sectae errores, cum respon-
sione ad apologiam pro juramento fidelitatis et epistolam ad principes Christianos
serenissimi Jacobi Angliae Regis.
Vol. 25 (1866): Index locupletissimus, Disputationes metaphysicae (disputations 1–27).
Vol. 26 (1866): Disputationes metaphysicae (disputations 28–54).
Vol. 27 (1878): Index I.
Vol. 28 (1878): Index II.
Vol. 29 (1859): Opuscula sex inedita (ed. Joannes Baptista Malou).
2 Medieval and Scholastic Texts
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Spruit, Leen. Species intelligibilis. From Perception to Knowledge, 2 vols. Leiden-New
York-Köln: E.J. Brill, 1995.
Te Velde, Rudi A. Participation and Substantiality in Thomas Aquinas. Leiden-ny-Köln:
E.J. Brill, 1995.
Thompson, A. “Francisco Suarez’s Theory of Analogy and the Metaphysics of St.
Thomas Aquinas,” Angelicum 72 (1995): pp. 353–362.
Torrell, Jean-Pierre. Saint Thomas Aquinas vol. 1: The Person and His Work, trans. Robert
Royal. Washington, d.c.: Catholic University of America Press, 1996.
Uscatescu Barron, Jorge. “El concepto de metafísica en Suárez: la metafísica como
hábito y voluntad,” in Dignidad personal, comunidad humana y orden jurídico, ed.,
E. Forment, Actas de la S.I.T.A. Barcelona: Editorial Balmes, 1994a, vol. 2, 907–916.
_____. “Acerca de la unidad: une estudio sobre las Disputationes metaphysicas (1596) de
Francisco Suárez,” Endoxa 3 (1994b): 195–223.
_____. “El concepto de metafísica en Suárez: su objeto y dominio,” Pensamiento 51
(1995): 215–236.
Vollrath, Ernst. “Die Gliederung der Metaphysik in eine Metaphysica generalis und
eine Metaphysica specialis,” in Zeitschrift für philosophische Forschung 16.2 (1962):
258–284.
_____. Die These der Metaphysik, Zur Gestalt der Metaphysik bei Aristoteles, Kant und
Hegel. Wuppertal-Ratingen: Alois Henn Verlag, 1969.
378 Bibliography
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Morale 3 (1993): 395–411.
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_____. “Suárez, Historian and Critic of the Modal Distinctions between Essential and
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_____. “Objective Being: Descartes and His Sources,” The Modern Schoolman 45 (1967):
49–61.
_____. “Suárez on the Eternal Truths,” The Modern Schoolman 58 (1980–1981): 73–104,
159–174.
_____. “Material Falsity in Descartes, Arnauld, and Suárez,” Journal of the History of
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_____. “Esse cognitum and Suárez Revisited,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly
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Index of Authors
Albertus Magnus 2, 73, 83, 182, 199, Cajetan, Tommaso de Vio viii, 10, 12, 89,
202, 342 141, 169–170, 181, 183, 192, 201, 213, 218, 246,
Alexander VII 150–151 319, 336, 339
Aquaviva, Claudius 6, 14 Calov, Abraham 224, 226, 235–238
Aquinas, Thomas x, 4, 5–6, 7, 9, 10, 12, 15, Calvin, John 66, 234–235, 238, 241, 317
31, 33, 40, 41, 73, 78, 81, 83, 84, 86, 87, 88, 99, Cano, Melchior 276
102, 103, 106, 107, 114, 125, 126, 129, 130, 131, Capreolus, Johannes 88, 196
132, 133, 144, 149, 150–151, 155, 156, 157, 158, Caraffa, Decio 152
159, 167, 169, 175, 179, 182, 183, 184, 189, 190, Cicero 31
192, 193, 194, 199, 200, 202, 208, 209, 210, Clairvaux, Bernard of 160
212, 213, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 223, 224, Clauberg, Johannes 13
225, 226, 229, 246, 272, 275, 276, 279, 281, Clavius, Christopher 5
282, 284, 287, 288, 292, 294, 301, 303, 313, Clement VIII 13, 20, 150–151, 154
314, 315, 316, 320, 321, 328, 339, 340, 341, 342, Compton Carleton, Thomas 13
343, 344, 355, 356 Courtine, Jean-François xi, 13, 72, 93–95,
Aristotle 10, 31, 50, 62, 74, 78, 80, 82, 111–113, 130, 133, 340–341, 361
85–87, 89, 91–92, 96–97, 101–102, 104, 106, Crockaert, John 276
109, 120, 122, 129–130, 150, 164–165, 168, 174, Cyprian 49, 51, 160
182–183, 192–194, 199–200, 202, 204,
206–208, 212–213, 216, 220, 222, 224, 227, Darge, Rolf xi, 91, 93, 96, 101–102, 105, 117,
272, 276, 294, 298–302, 352 121, 331, 340, 348
Ashworth, E.J. 110, 342–343 De Las Casas, Bartolomé 30
Augustine 32, 37, 66, 142, 339 Deleuze, Gilles 125
Auriol, Petrus 324 Descartes, René 13, 24–25, 28, 77, 84,
Averroes 83, 99, 182, 199–200, 208–209 202–203, 217, 227, 312, 334, 337–338, 359, 361
Avicenna 83, 92, 96, 99, 120, 130–131, De Scorraille, Raoul 1–4, 148, 150–151, 153,
166–167, 169, 201, 207–208, 341, 344–345 161, 164
Diego Mas 11, 302
Baius, Michael 143 Doyle, John P. 4, 9–10, 13, 15–17, 28, 94,
Baltasar Álvarès, P. 153 110, 148, 248, 275, 298, 324, 340, 351–352,
Báñez, Domingo 13, 151, 154 357–359, 361
Barth, Karl 336 Duns Scotus, John 2–3, 10, 12, 16, 73, 78, 81,
Bartolus of Sassoferrato 62 83, 87–89, 93–94, 101, 103, 114, 117–122, 131,
Baudunio, Marcus a 303 135, 164–168, 170, 172, 174–176, 180, 182,
Bellarmine, Robert 5, 14, 18, 20–22, 224, 244 189–192, 200–201, 208, 213, 218–220, 236, 287,
Belluto, Bonaventure 319, 339 298, 303, 313, 316–324, 327–328, 336–338,
Benedict XIV 14, 151, 161 340–343, 345–351, 353–354, 358, 360–362
Biel, Gabriel 206, 208–209, 322, 324 Durandus of St. Pourçain 182, 287
Boethius 106, 165, 217
Bonaventure 168, 176, 200–201, 209, 225, Fichter, Joseph Henry 1–5, 7, 13–14, 17–22
229, 303, 321, 343, 348 Fonseca, Pedro da 11, 24, 174–179, 181,
Borgia, Francis 3 190, 351
Brentano, Franz 87
Buridan, John 100, 201, 203, 208–209, 342 Gabriel, Vázquez 5, 7, 208, 276, 278–279, 322
Burley, Walter 189, 342 Gerhard, John 221, 229
380 Index of Authors
Ghent, Henry of 88, 117, 131, 200–201, 213, Marion, Jean-Luc 28, 337–338, 361
314, 343, 345, 347 Maccovius, Johannes 238–241
Giles of Rome 88, 182 Marsilius of Padua 65, 321
Gilson, Étienne 9–10, 24–27, 72–73, 77, Meinong, Alexius 73–74
80, 94, 340–341, 358, 360 Melanchthon, Philipp 222, 224, 226–228,
Grabmann, Martin 77 232, 234–235
Gracia, Jorge 93, 102, 156, 168, 186, 249 Mersenne, Marin 24
Grandamy, Grandamy 24 Molina, Luis de 4, 5, 13, 14, 276, 287,
Grotius, Hugo 297 150–151, 160, 161, 246
Montagnes, Bernard 341, 343, 355
Hardon, s.j., John 14, 161
Heidegger, Martin 27–28, 72–73, 75–90, Natorp, Paul 75, 80, 84
94, 126, 298, 361 Nietzsche, Friedrich 28
Heider, Daniel xi, 164, 338, 354, Nifo, Agostino 11, 202
358–360
Henry VIII 65 Ockham, William 16, 165, 185, 206, 208,
Hobbes, Thomas 86, 221 279, 282, 287, 313, 321–324, 342
Hoffmann, Tobias 317–318, 320–321 Olivi, Peter John 196, 200–201,
Hollaz, David 221–222, 224–227, 229–230, 208–209, 213
234–246 Ott, Ludwig 163
Honnefelder, Ludger 92, 96, 114, 168,
317, 358 Pasnau, Robert 200, 213, 320
Hopkins, Gerard Manley 297 Paul V 3, 14, 20–21, 23, 151–152, 162
Hulsemann, John 226 Pereira, José xii, 10–11, 25–26, 28,
Husserl, Edmund 73 150–151, 155, 157–158, 297, 338, 357–360
Pius XII 151, 156, 160, 162
James I 21, 29, 58, 65, 152 Plato 31, 80, 82, 185, 212, 323, 345
Jandun, John of 201–203 Poncius, Johannes 303, 317, 320
Javelli, Crisostomo 11, 302 Pope Sixtus V 5
Jerome 49, 51 Porphyry 164–165, 173
John of Damascus 222 Przywara, Erich 336
John of St. Thomas 155, 187, 303, 339
Quenstedt, Johannes Andreas 235–237
Kant, Immanuel 27, 73–75, 77–79, 81, Quiroga, Cardinal 5–6
84, 86, 89, 94, 123–125, 297, 358
Kilwardby, Robert 200–201 Ramirez, Juan 2
King Philip 8, 21, 227–228 Rimini, Gregory of 282
Ross, James 91, 172–173, 187
Lactantius 160 Rubio, Antoñio 24, 203
Lask, Emil 75, 89
Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm 25–26, 84, Scherzer, John 226
94, 125, 226, 230, 238 Schopenhauer, Arthur 28
Levinas, Emmanuel 73, 75 Semery, Andreas 13
Liguori, St. Alphonsus 160 Sépulveda, Juan Gines de 29
Locke, John 221 Siewerth,Gustav 126–127
Lombard, Peter 4, 155–156, 276 Soncinas, Paulus 258
Lossada, Luis de 13 Soto, Domingo 276, 287–288
Luther, Martin 66, 138, 222, 227, 234–235, Spinoza, Benedictus 84
243, 247 St. Leo I 19
Index of Authors 381
St. Paul 45 Vico, Giambattista 297

Suárez, Gaspar 2 Vitoria, Francisco de 16–17, 38–39, 42, 52,
Szydlowski, Jan 239 61, 66, 69, 156, 275–277, 287
Von Balthasar, Hans Urs 127, 336
Tanquerey, Adolphe 163
Teresa of Ávila 21 Ward, Mary 21
Tertullian 160 Wolff, Christian 26–27, 74, 81, 84, 94, 122,
Thiene, Gaetano 141 131, 297–298, 358
Timpler, Clemens 13 Wycliff, John 189
Toledo, Francisco de 24
Trombetta, Antonio 169 Zabarella, Giacomo 226
Turretin, Francis 221–222, 224–227, Zimmermann, Albert 92, 96
229–230, 234–235, 237–238, 240–246
Index of Subjects
Abstraction 103, 105, 107–108, 111, 113, simpliciter simplex 348–349, 356,

118, 121, 132, 169, 181, 183–184, 189, 191, 360, 362
231, 309 Univocal 256, 310, 337, 341, 347, 349,
Analogy 354, 362
Attribution 12, 187, 233, 236, 240,
310, 339 De auxiliis Controversy 4, 13–14, 140, 150,
Intrinsic 12, 134, 233, 236, 240, 339 154, 160–161
Proper Proportionality 12, 238, 339 Democracy 29, 60
Distinction
Being Conceptual 167, 231, 237, 306
Actual 115, 117–118, 136, 251–252, 263 Formal 167–168, 237
Aptitudinal 118, 177, 179, 305, 339, 357 Modal 167, 358
as a Noun 88, 113–114, 136, 305, rationis ratiocinate 358
307, 357 Real 101, 135, 167–168, 194, 269,
as a Participle 113, 307, 357 306, 359
Finite 12, 99–100, 118, 349–350, Divine Foreknowledge 150, 160
353, 356
Infinite 12, 133, 310, 321, 344, 347–350, Epikeia 275, 288–290, 293
352–353, 356 esse deminutum 316, 318
of Reason 102, 115–117, 178, 186–188, esse essentiae 89, 178, 316
252–257, 259–264, 270–271, 302, esse existentiae 178
330, 352 esse intelligibile 316–317, 320,
Possible 269, 305 323, 330
Real 12, 93–94, 97–101, 112–114, 116, 134, esse objectivum 11, 92, 100, 254, 317–318,
136, 166, 171, 178, 180, 187–188, 191, 193, 330, 337
248, 250–254, 256–257 Extrinsic Denomination 110–111, 186–187,
191, 253, 257–261, 269, 271, 308, 320,
Causality 329–330, 351
Efficient 155, 158, 195–196, 202,
257–259, 262, 271 First Intention 185
Final 11, 158, 271 Free Will 13, 15, 17, 140, 150, 154, 160, 219,
Formal 193, 271 239, 242–244, 246, 328, 335
Material 195, 258, 271
Civil Obedience 30, 36, 38–39, 59–60, 67 Gegenstandstheorie 73–76
Common Good 15, 30, 39–44, 47, 53–54, Grace 5, 13, 14, 18, 335, 126, 138, 139,
60–63, 66 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 150–151,
Concept 154, 155, 159, 160, 232, 234, 235, 237, 243,
Analogical 184, 187 244, 245, 246
Confused 339, 348, 361–362
Formal 11, 25, 88, 110–112, 133–134, 166, Hermeneutic of Facticity 75
172, 185, 187, 191, 308, 311, 329–331, 342,
351–353, 356, 359 Idealism 312
Objective 11, 25, 88, 93, 109–112, Imagination 196–197, 206–208, 211, 214,
133–135, 170, 186, 191, 308, 311, 329–331, 257, 259, 262–263, 272
342, 348, 350–353, 356, 359–360 Immortality 194, 228
Index Of Subjects 383
Incarnation, Theology of 3, 5–6, 155, 158, Papal Power 20, 64, 153, 161, 286
160, 222, 241 passiones entis 101–102, 104, 130
Individuation, Principle of 26, 166, 183 Penance 19, 151, 155–156
Insight 99 Perception 80, 119, 201–203, 204, 206,
Intentionality 200, 213 207, 209, 210, 211, 218
ius gentium 15–17, 125, 152, 157, 162, Predestination 6, 13, 150, 160, 224,
286, 297 241–242, 245, 247, 322
Judgment 76, 86, 215, 315, 340–341 Realism 167, 169, 176, 189–190, 204, 212,
Justice 34–35, 41–43, 46, 50, 55, 60–61, 251–252, 312
88, 138, 230, 241–242, 287 Relations
of Reason 94, 188–189, 191, 253, 265,
Law 268, 272–273, 316, 320, 333
Canon 2, 4, 18, 23, 31, 33–36, 51, 125, Real 168, 188, 253, 265, 268–269
148, 152
Civil 17–18, 23, 138, 152, 287 Sacramental Theology 19, 23, 149, 151,
Eternal 15–18, 32–33, 45, 152, 161, 275, 155–156
281–282, 285–286 Second Intention 185, 189, 269, 273
Human 16–18, 31, 33–34, 40–45, 47, Seinsvergessenheit 361
61, 66, 138, 152, 286–287, 290 Sensation 193, 201, 203, 205–206, 208,
International 17, 29, 63–64, 125, 157, 211, 218
162, 297 Signification 76, 91, 165, 253, 361
Natural 16–17, 31–33, 36–39, 44–45, Soul 18, 181, 193–204, 206, 208, 211–212,
50, 53–57, 59, 63, 65–66, 68–70, 125, 214–216, 218, 220, 227, 334
138–140, 145, 152, 274, 277, 279–296 Rational 109, 193–194, 208, 334
Legislative Power 30, 32, 36, 42, 44–45, Sensitive 193–194, 198, 218
57, 63 Vegetative 193–194, 198
Supertranscendental 94–95
Mariology viii, 7, 149, 159
Material Falsity 24 Transcendentals 11, 102, 104, 121, 166,
Memory 207–209 169–170, 185–187, 232, 237, 240, 250, 302,
metaphysica generalis 78 307, 350
metaphysica specialis 78 Transcendental Science 101–102, 106, 109,
Metaphysics of Exodus 73 122, 125, 187
Trinitarian Theology 106, 222
Natural Theology 12, 125, 129–131, 224,
227–228 Universal 111, 122, 164, 179, 185–191,
Nominalism 189–190, 239, 277, 279, 283 211–212, 214–215, 270, 290, 323, 330, 352

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A Companion to Francisco Suárez

Brill’s Companions to the

Christopher M. Bellitto (Kean University)

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/bcct

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

A companion to Francisco Suárez / edited by Victor M. Salas, Robert L. Fastiggi.

Copyright 2015 by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

2 Political Thought and Legal Theory in Suárez 29

3 Suárez, Heidegger, and Contemporary Metaphysics 72

4 Suárez on the Subject of Metaphysics 91

5 Suárez and the Baroque Matrix of Modern Thought 124

6 Francisco Suárez as Dogmatic Theologian 148

7 Suárez on the Metaphysics and Epistemology of Universals 164

9 Suárez’s Influence on Protestant Scholasticism

10 Suárez on Beings of Reason 248

11 Suárez and the Natural Law 274

12 Original Features of Suárez’s Thought 297

13 Suárez’s Doctrine of Concepts

14 Between Thomism and Scotism

This present volume is one of several recent collections of scholarly essays

Paul Pace, s.j.

Victor Salas and Robert Fastiggi

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2015 | doi 10.1163/9789004283930_002

Suárez’s luminous career spent entirely as an academic and as Spain’s most

and with new-found confidence he was sent on to study theology from

15 Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 74.

would himself become a well-renowned professor of philosophy and theology

30 Ibid., pp. 111–119.

St. Thomas’s Summa theologiae, expounding on questions 27–59. The result is

43 Fichter, Man of Spain, p. 154.

short-lived, however, since Antonio Domingo, the Dominican named to the

51 Ibid., pp. 207–208.

John P. Doyle comments that, in the course of the fifty-four disputations,

I had always judged that, in understanding and penetrating into the

55 John P. Doyle, Collected Studies, p. 7.

60 Pereira, Suárez, p. 14.

fifteen and sixteen), efficient (disputations seventeen through twenty-two),

beings of reason insofar as they relate to real being. Suárez’s metaphysical

71 Denzinger, Heinrich and Peter Hünermann, Enchirdion symbolorum definitionum et decla-

systematic treatment of law in all its instantiations: divine or eternal, natural,

systematized Francisco de Vitoria’s teaching on the ius gentium, which would

prohibiting evil ones, whether promulgation is necessary to constitute a civil

“the above-mentioned doctrine of Father Suarez openly contradicts the defini-

104 Ibid., 1995.

116 Ibid., p. 295.

122 Ibid., p. 330.

pertaining to the material falsity of ideas, Descartes adverts approvingly to

Himself a pupil of the Jesuits, [Descartes] had learned metaphysics

Beyond the various philosophical threads connecting Suárez to Descartes,

tells us that, as a youth, he devoured Suárez as though he were reading a

141 Cf. ibid., p. 183.

Certainly Francisco Suarez of the Society of Jesus, who among the

Concerning the relationship between Suárez and modern ontology, Heidegger

metaphysicae of Suarez to the ‘metaphysics’ and transcendental philoso-

Suárez’s influence on modern philosophy, not to mention Catholic and

Political Thought and Legal Theory in Suárez

1 Suárez, De legibus ac Deo legislatore (Conimbricae, 1612).

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2015 | doi 10.1163/9789004283930_003