The purpose of this chapter is threefold. The first section, from various perspectives, will sketch briefly the development of the concept of unity in history from various perspectives. It will be divided into two sub-sections. The first sub-section will outline the fundamental role of the concept of unity in various world views, while the second sub-section will show that this concept remains relevant for contemporary thought. The next section will outline those ideas which played a formative role in shaping Nicholas of Cusa's idea of unity. The first sub-section will deal with the two main currents of medieval philosophy, namely, Platonism and Aristotelianism; the second sub-section will discuss some of the minor trends which contributed to Cusa's thought, and the last sub-section will deal with Cusa's personal background and how it contributed to his conception of unity. The third section will state the methodology which this work will follow.

THE CONCEPT OF UNITY

The Development of Unity

Before one can examine the ideas of Nicholas of Cusa in reference to unity one must first understand the historical context of the concept of unity, and gain appreciation for the fundamental importance of the role which unity plays in all societies. In pursuit of this goal we will begin by tracing the development of the concept of unity from totemic to mythic, to philosophic thought. We will then comment briefly upon the role unity plays in three philosophic contexts, namely Christian, Jewish, and Islamic.

Unity in the Totemic Context. The concept of unity plays a fundamental role in nearly all human societies. As the keystone upon which one's view of reality is founded, it shapes one's relationship to both the physical and social world. Long before the development of systematic philosophy, primitive man sought to express this idea of unity through the totem. Such societies regarded the relationship between themselves and their totem as one of simple identity. Because primitive man's thought was dominated by sense-experience of the natural world this unity was not an abstract identity of essence, but one of actual identity between the individual members (of the society) and their totem. Lucien Levy-Bruhl described this as "a mystical community of substance."¹ Thus this unity is not yet dominated by multiplicity. Here the totem is that in which the members of society have their identity, meaning and unity. It is the fullness of reality itself; the totem is appreciated as inexhaustible no matter how many participants find therein their existence. A distinct consciousness of individuality without the totem was as yet undeveloped.² Thus totemic societies allow for "thinking of the individual in the collective and the collective in the individual without any difficulty."³ An unmediated identity is forged between the individual, all the other members of society, and the totem.

In totemic societies all were united in a symbiosis with the totem; social differentiation was less appreciated. In time, however, role-differentiation led to a greater awareness of individual self-identity and complementarity. As the individuals became conscious of themselves as individuals and explicitly differentiated themselves from others, they also came to appreciate the individuality of other entities.⁴ With this development came new awareness, both of the distinctiveness of the plentitude which the totem articulated and of its role as the principle of the relationships between beings. The plentitude which previously had been grasped in a symbiotic unity of all, due to a more distinctive sense of self-consciousness, could then be appreciated not only as immanent in each existing thing, but as transcending all of them. Furthermore, where the totem had been acknowledged simply to be one, the development of an appreciation of a distinctive principle of meaning for all things implied that this could not be less than a knowing and willing, i.e. personal, being. Thus the objective reality which the totem had sought to express was now revealed to be both transcendent and personal, i.e., divine. This was in the form of gods in some sort of hierarchy under one that is supreme.⁵

Unity in the Mythic Context. This new appreciation of unity became possible through an intellectual development on the part of human consciousness. Its intellectual framework was no longer limited to the information provided by the senses about the natural world, but could evolve in relation to the presentation and expression of matter in terms of the imagination. Because this stage was dominated by the imagination, the personal divine came to be depicted anthropomorphically and serve as a basis for creating myths. These could articulate a far more complex unity than had been possible in the totemic context.⁶ Thus, Hesiod's Theogony reveals reality to be not "a random gathering of totally disparate and equally original units",⁷ but the relationship between the gods and the various parts of nature in terms of procreation. This enabled them to conceive of multiple and highly differentiated realities, yet relating each reality to every other in a genetic sequence. As this relationship is not dependent on any events or decisions, but is original with the very being of the entity, it is not limited to certain aspects of the universe, but is all-inclusive and co-extensive with being.

Thus, when the Theogony speaks in terms of chaos coming to be it is important to note that, etymologically and at a time prior to the stoics, the term chaos did not refer to disorder or confusion, but to a "gap" between heaven and earth.⁸ In this way chaos is in no way antithetical to an ordered cosmos. Rather, its differentiating role is something of a precondition for such an order. Also chaos is not the original reality, but itself comes into being.⁹ Reality precedes the "gap", whose opening constituted earth and heaven as its boundaries. As these emerge from chaos with the rest of reality, the differentiated universe is derived from an original undifferentiated unity which preceded chaos.¹⁰

This unity is nameless, since names immediately reflect perceptions which concern contraries, not what is constant and homogeneous. This "lack of differentiation is not a deficiency but a fullness of reality and meaning from which all particulars and contraries are derived."¹¹ Lacking boundaries or a relationship to another contrary, it transcends the realm of multiplicity and so cannot be assigned a particular name or form. The one is the source from which differentiated beings are born into a real unity, in as much as all trace their origin back to this undifferentiated unity. Hence, "For the Greek mythic mind, beings are more one than many, more related than divided, more complementary than contrasting."¹²

The mythic society's understanding of unity is an advance over that of the totemic society because myths are not only capable of integrating a tribe or group of tribes into the natural world, but also can take into account intentional realities, such as purpose, fidelity, and love. The role played by the imagination facilitated this advance, but did not allow for the establishment of philosophy. For this there was the need for more precise terminology, that is, properly intellectual rather than imaginative. Once formulated such terms would enable systematic philosophical analysis. It would then be possible rationally to examine the concept of unity with the aid of such intellectual tools as logical inquiry, theory building, et cetera.¹³

Unity in the Philosophical Context. In the West the Greeks were among the first to engage in philosophical analysis. But because they presupposed the existence of matter, their contributions to the understanding of unity were limited to the pattern of forms. However, when Christian thinkers extended to matter the idea that all is dependent on the One and hence could no longer be presupposed, the basic issue of philosophy changed. It was no longer which of a set of contrary forms was realized or how a change between them took place; rather it became directly the issue of the existence of beings.

This monumentous development in philosophy is linked to the Christian idea of the Incarnation. In order for Christ to be God Incarnate He must fully share in the Divine nature. In short, both God and Christ must be completely of one and the same nature. In contrast, it becomes possible to clarify the formal object of God's act in creating limited beings. The relationship between God and his creation could not be in a unity of nature since that would result in a co-equal divine person, rather than in creatures which are radically dependent for their existence. Hence the question is not simply how things are of a particular kind, but how all are able to be rather than not to be.¹⁴

The Christian tradition with its new appreciation of existence responded by adopting the Platonic idea of participation and applying it to being. Participating beings are not merely the product of divisions in what had previously been undifferentiated (totemic thought), nor is the relationship like that between family members who remain ever related by virtue of their ancestors (mythic thought). The effect of the causality by undifferentiated being is the creation of differentiated beings participating, not merely as individuals in their species, but as existents in the One. Thus, participation is exercised as long as these beings continue to exist and act.¹⁵

In this way, all of reality becomes a dynamic expression of the Absolute which Itself is simple. The causality of participation makes the Absolute, in Its very essence, present to each individual being. Indeed, since the essence of such beings are distinct from their existence it is possible to say that the Absolute is more present to them than they are to themselves. Furthermore, because the immanence of the Absolute is not in tension with Its transcendence, but rather in proportion to it, one may say more accurately that individual beings are in the Absolute than that the Absolute is in them.¹⁶

Hence, participation results in a universe made up of beings which, in acting according to their proper natures, imitate the Absolute each in its own respective way.¹⁷ Because of the limited nature of individual beings, a multitude of diverse beings is fitting since any one being is but an imitation of the Absolute.¹⁸ Thus each entity becomes "a unique existent, a living participation of divine perfection in this world in a manner which had never been realized."¹⁹

This differs from the vision which the ancient Greeks had. For Plato an individual entity's value was based upon its form whose true reality lay in a separate world, while for Aristotle individuals concentrate upon the continuation of their species in imitation of the permanence of higher entities. In contrast, here the uniqueness of the individual and its participation in the Divine has many important and far-reaching implications. It finds in differentiated beings a far greater importance than had previously been appreciated. Each individual participates in the Divine in a way which is entirely unique. The potentialities which it could realize in participating in the Divine, if not realized, can be achieved by no other being and are lost forever.²⁰ Furthermore, participation in Divine being brings each entity into community with all of reality.

Jewish thought also places important emphasis on the concept of unity. The earlier sections of the Old Testament reflect a polytheistic world-view, but in the seventh century B.C. explicit monotheism became increasingly dominant. The unambiguously monotheistic character of later Judaism can be seen by the fact that the phrase "The One" became synonymous with God and that the daily prayers of the Jews began with an expression of the absolute unity of the Divine.²¹ This unity of the Divine has serious social connotations. Since there is but one creator the idea of the equality of men becomes linked to Jewish thought and is expressed in such biblical passages as Job 31:15 where Job asserts that both he and his servants were created by the same God and Malachi 2:l0 which makes a similar assertion in regard to men and women.²² Also isolation from the community, a breaking apart of unity, has important negative connotations expressed in Isaiah 49:21 and Jeremiah 15:17 in which the prophet bemoans his solitary existence.²³ The Old Testament constantly points to unity and wholeness as the origin of history and its future goal in contrast to the contemporary disunity which the Jews were suffering.²⁴ The prophets continually speak in hopeful terms of one people and one ruler which shall come to pass at some future date.²⁵ In Jeremiah 32:39 this external unity is matched by an internal unity of "one heart and one way."²⁶ This unity is extended to all of creation in Isaiah 65:25, where the wolf and the lamb will feed together rather than upon each other, and again in Zechariah l4:7, where the differences between day and night will be ended and there will be nothing but one continuous day.²⁷

The concept of unity plays an important role also in Islamic thought. Islamic thinkers formulated the concept of tawhid which means "making one" or "asserting oneness" in reference to the unity of Allah. The character of this unity is, however, highly ambiguous. It could refer to the fact that there is no God but Allah, that Allah is a unity in Himself, that Allah is the only being with absolute existence and all other beings are contingent upon Him, or it even could imply the pantheistic assertion that Allah is all. Knowledge of this unity may be attained by systematic theology or religious experience involving either pure contemplation or philosophical speculation.²⁸ The emphasis on God's oneness and transcendence is expressed in the Koran's giving no proper name to God, since the ability to do so would reduce God to a being which is humanly comprehensible. The intensity of the Islamic understanding of divine unity is reflected in their reservations regarding some fundamental Christian doctrines. They fear the Trinity to be a subtle form of polytheism espousing a triad of gods;²⁹ while the very idea of God becoming human (the Incarnation) is clearly sacrilegious for Muslims.³⁰ For Islam the distinction between the respective natures of the human and the Divine is totally irreconcilable and no sense of unity exists between man and God. Islam is so sensitive on this point that the representation of human beings is officially banned, not only in mosques but in the secular arts as well, for fear that they will become associated with the Divine.³¹

Unity and Contemporary Thought

Thus far we have examined the early history of the concept of unity and the fundamental role which it has played in the various cultures. Now we shall turn to the essential role the concept of unity plays in some characteristic themes of modern philosophy. In Part I, this will be related to such issues as the freedom of the individual in society as a whole with a view to sharpening the questions which arise today regarding the implications of Cusa's notion of unity for his ethics.

In contemporary times the idea of unity no longer enjoys the preeminence and centrality it once did. Jeffrey Burton Russell points out that the predominant view of Western Civilization until the end of the Seventeenth Century was one of an essentially unified and coherent cosmos in which meaning, value and truth were inherent and integrated. In the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, however, this view began to be supplanted by a far more materialistic and mechanistic one. Philosophers adopted the restrictions of scope proper to natural science, and though the isolation of the material world proved a revolutionary success for science, it led to such exclusive and reductionist philosophical doctrines as positivism. Thus, the once "living cosmos became a dead universe whose separated parts could be isolated and intensively analyzed but without reference to the whole."³² In a world where nothing is moored to anything else, all inherent meaning and value are quickly lost until the person becomes just another atom floating in a void and moral action is reduced to nothing more than an exercise of personal affirmation.

This neglect of the concept of unity has proven to be something of a double-edged sword. On the positive side more attention was given to single entities; thus, the question of unity has been reconstituted in a far more problematic manner since in simply assuming the singular diversity of all realities as absolutes it lacks principles for their unity. This greater sense of the singularity of entities, though essentially a product of nominalism, allowed for the dramatic development of attention to the individual and the scientific revolution. However, these advances have not been without cost. The discovery of the value of the individual is quite rightly regarded as one of the central achievements of the modern age, but because the heirs of nominalism gave little attention to society one now frequently hears regrets at the loss of community in the modern era.³³ On the other hand, attempts to attend to community without adequate attention to the individual person reinforced by attempts to develop the universal and necessary notions of science led both from left and right to a massification of social life in which there was no place for the person.

Thus, the present search for understanding as we move beyond the modern ideologies focuses upon finding a proper balance between individual freedom and social cohesion. As Aristotle points out, humans are by their very nature social creatures whose fulfillment and very survival is dependent upon their fellows. All social groups, however, require some order to keep conflicts between members at a minimum and resolve those which inevitably arise. For society to prosper it must recognize the individuality of its members and allow them the maximum amount of free creativity within the parameters required to maintain order. The modern search for unity is for a basis upon which the relation between the individual and society is not a contradiction, but a creative tension in which the person is able to realize his or her full potential in society with others, while society realizes its potential by recognizing and encouraging the diversity of its individual members. As W. Widick Schroeder writes, "In the political sphere the imposition of too much order to suppress dynamic components results in tyranny; the parts are inordinately suppressed for the sake of unity. Conversely, too much freedom results in anarchy; the parts are accentuated inordinately for the sake of diversity."³⁴ Schroeder correctly points out that the harmony of the whole can be attained only by integrating the interests of the whole with those of the individual.

Perhaps nowhere is the consequences of the loss of unity more clearly exhibited than in the work of the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, whose philosophy is fundamentally one of alienation.³⁵ For Sartre human freedom inevitably expresses itself in futile attempts to achieve a synthesis between being-in-itself (non-conscious being) and being-for-itself (consciousness conceived as a lack of being). Thus one is alienated not only from one's fellow human beings but even from oneself. This self-alienation dramatically alters the nature of moral action. One's various attempts to unify being-in-itself with being-for-itself brings value into existence. Sartre urges man to abandon the belief which "considers values as transcendent givens independent of human subjectivity".³⁶ He writes that the moral agent is "the being by whom values exist" and "the unique source of values."³⁷

The divisiveness of this sort of relativism should not be underestimated. One's values are no longer the product of rational insight into some objective being open to all, but becomes instead merely the expression of one's personal nature and so results in isolation. This, severely hampers rational discourse. Though Sartre clearly sees the importance of the individual, each with his or her own unique perspective on things, he fails to integrate this with an understanding that subjective consciousness requires objective reality, without which no true knowledge is possible. Sartre's relativism will not result in a stagnant and monolithic society, but neither will it engender the interactive and complementary community which encourages the free exchange of ideas. It can result only in hostile factionalism.

The question of unity applies not only to how the individual relates to his social and intellectual world, but also to how humankind relates to the natural world. The scientific and industrial revolutions enabled people to gain rapid understanding and control of the natural world. This resulted in many benefits which cannot be denied. However, the demystification of the natural world also resulted in its being divested of its aura of mystery and the corresponding reverence. The scientific revolution had the ultimate effect of making the natural world into an object to be isolated, broken down and understood, while the industrial revolution reduced it to a collection of natural resources to be exploited. In the earlier more unified sense of the cosmos, with less rigorous scientific understanding, beings of the natural world were not simply objects of study or resources for industry, but had an inherent value and nature and were to be respected as such.

Recent events have shown that careless action on the part of humankind which profoundly alters the natural world can result even in the annihilation of humanity.³⁸ A clearer understanding of the concept of unity certainly is needed in order to improve humankind's relation to the natural world. "The notion that humans are called to subdue, master and change nature needs to be balanced by the notion that humans are called to appropriate, appreciate, and receive nature."³⁹ Paradoxically humanity's mastery of nature ultimately has lowered the status of humankind itself to that of another natural entity without special characteristics. Even reason, which had enabled humankind to uncover the secrets of the natural world, has not escaped challenge by the fields of psychology and sociology. The analytic method shifts all emphasis to the scientific breakdown of an entity into ever smaller component parts without relating them to the entity as a whole or to its relation to the universe as a whole.

When the universe is understood not as a unity but as an aggregate of disparate objects void of any fundamental relationship, it is thereby disfigured and devalued in that entities are deprived of their inherent relationships.⁴⁰ The repercussions of this development have serious consequences for the social order. Among the most destructive of these are the loss of the inherent value of human life and the trampling of social values in a mad rush for individual fulfillment. Self-awareness is distorted by selfishness expressed in domestic, social and even international violence.

These effects of the neglect of unity can be traced to the late medieval nominalist epistemology. This began with the rejection of forms in terms of which knowledge of the true natures of things could be attained. At the dawn of the modern era this idea of inability to know the true nature of things was coupled with a Cartesian desire for certainty in terms that are clear and distinct to the human mind. This seriously undermines the possibility of metaphysics since such clarity becomes the goal of all inquiry at the very point at which the ability to achieve certainty is denied. This position is constantly reinforced throughout the development of modern thought. Examples of it can be seen in Kant's division of reality into knowable phenomena and unknowable noumena, or the positivist rejection of all truth which was not grounded in the positive sciences. Once one rejects the person's ability to understand the true nature of reality, or the very idea of their being such natures, all possibility of a viable metaphysics is lost.

Without metaphysics, however, the mind turns quite naturally to the only thing left for it to know, and that is the physical world. One contents oneself with this superficial knowledge since it is believed that any deeper inquiry into the nature of things is pointless. All relationships between entities becomes purely products of external juxtaposition, rather than of the innate nature of the entities. Not surprisingly, this results in the atomization of reality, for each individual entity is regarded as something of a universe unto itself with no necessary internal relationship to anything else. These problems of modern philosophy can be seen as natural consequences of the undermining of metaphysics, which neglect of the concept of unity had initiated.

The work of Nicholas of Cusa in which the concept of unity plays so fundamental a role will be investigated here in search of insight needed for resolving these modern and contemporary challenges. Cusa's use of finite concepts outside a finite frame of reference may enable him to provide an alternative to the modern strongly rationalistic view. In this fashion, Cusa may be able to suggest insights denied to others. Cusa's interest in science may provide a framework for integrating many strengths of the modern view, and this in turn with his desire to situate all this in relationship to the Absolute. Cusa's thought may provide thereby a basis for a true pluralism of being in relation to an Absolute of which each individual is a partial and diversified expression.

THE FORMATION OF THE THOUGHT OF NICHOLAS OF CUSA

Medieval Platonism and Aristotelianism

Having sketched the broader context of the problem of unity in the proceeding section, we will move on to examine the major forces in medieval thought which contributed proximately to shaping Cusa's thought. Later there will be a more focused discussion of these issues, but here we will attend to the two dominant currents of medieval philosophy, namely, Platonism and Aristotelianism.

Cusa's thought is drawn for the most part from the Neo-Platonic tradition, which was about to emerge with new force during the Renaissance, and to a lesser extent from the Scholastic-Aristotelian tradition. Though the Aristotelian and Platonic traditions are frequently depicted as being diametrically opposed, this assertion requires some qualification. From the very outset there has always been a great deal of cross-fertilization between these two schools of thought.

As Arthur Little points out, Aristotle was himself something of a Platonist. Though Aristotle rejects the central Platonic doctrine of a separated realm of forms, the philosophy he develops is consistent with the bulk of Plato's thought. In fact, Little asserts that Aristotle's work should not be seen as setting aside Platonic thought but as its correction and expansion.⁴¹

Thomas Aquinas, regarded as central to the Scholastic-Aristotelian tradition, had as the key to his system the Platonic idea of participation and draws extensively upon both St. Augustine and Pseudo-Dionysius.⁴² In fact, the doctrine of participation is indispensable to Thomistic philosophy.⁴³ Thomistic philosophy is not essentially an Aristotelian doctrine with a few Platonic elements added here and there. The centrality of the doctrine of participation in Thomism clearly makes Aquinas an Aristotelian who recognized and even intensified fundamental Platonic doctrines within his system.⁴⁴

The contents of Cusa's personal library show him to have been thoroughly acquainted with both traditions. It contains over 300 manuscripts⁴⁵ not counting those which have disappeared over the years, which most scholars believe to have been considerable in number for many works mentioned in his letters have never been located.⁴⁶ The existing manuscripts include several collections of Aristotle and many commentaries upon them, as well as copies of Aquinas' Summa.⁴⁷ They also contain works of Pseudo-Dionysius and various commentaries upon them, including one by Aquinas' teacher, Albert the Great.⁴⁸

Cusa sees an essential agreement between Platonic philosophy and Christian theology.⁴⁹ The Platonic orientation of his thought is exemplified by such key ideas as the via negativa and the absolute transcendence of the divine.⁵⁰ Also, Cusa often seems to sound more like a poet than a philosopher, using language to spur the imagination as a means to clarify the understanding -- this is characteristic of the Platonic tradition. An example of this is Plato's frequent use of myths to clarify his teachings. Platonism divided reality into sensible and intelligible realms. One begins with sense data derived from the sensible world, but by use of the intellect ascends to the intelligible world where one achieves true knowledge. Both the sensible and intelligible realms are subordinate to, and derived from, the One which is beyond all form and knowledge. Union with this is the pinnacle of human achievement. The universe is nothing other than an eternal and necessary order which emanates from the One according to a hierarchical order.⁵¹

Cusa's philosophy fits well within the broad framework of Platonism. Some scholars, however, feel that it would be more accurate to describe Cusa's thought as predominately Aristotelian. W. H. Hay characterizes Cusa's thought as a few Platonic strands woven onto an Aristotelian tapestry.⁵² In support of this view Hay demonstrates how it is possible to deduce the coincidence of opposites from Scholastic- Aristotelian principles. He claims that for the Scholastic each thing in nature is matter participating in each of a number of pairs of contrary forms. For any form there is something that possesses it to the maximum and there can only be one maximum. If anything possessed the maximum degree of any quality (i.e. heat) it would also need to possess the minimum of the contrary quality (i.e. cold). Since there is only one infinite form (God), It must possess both the maximum of heat and the minimum of cold. God would also have to possess the minimum of heat and the maximum of cold due to His infinite nature. Thus, Hay's concludes that God in the scholastic tradition would have to possess the maximum and minimum of every quality, all coinciding within Him.⁵³

Though it would be a mistake to claim that Cusa is entirely oblivious of the Aristotelian tradition, Hay seems to credit it with too great an influence upon Cusa's thought. It may be possible to deduce the coincidence of opposites from Aristotelian principles, but such a deduction is hardly characteristic of that tradition.

Though Cusa seeks to divert philosophy from the Scholastic path it had been following and to give it a more Neo-Platonic orientation, he does not totally jettison the Aristotelian tradition. For example, although both Cusa and Anselm see God as supreme, Anselm frames this supremacy in terms of an idea, whereas Cusa shifts the emphasis to being. Also, Cusa does not see infinity as a negative idea signifying nothing more than the absence of limitation as did various Neo-Platonists, but as a positive fullness of being which lacks nothing.⁵⁴ Cusa also follows the Aristotelians in seeing the natural world as a more or less intelligible order that need not be referred to a separated world of forms, the existence of which he rejected. In fact, Cusa adopts many such Aristotelian concepts as universal ideas, matter and form, and substance and accident.

Minor Influences on Cusa's Thought

Some of the lesser medieval trends which influenced Cusa are nominalism, mysticism and humanism, all of which played formative roles in shaping Cusa's thought. Though these lesser trends never developed as broad a framework for interpreting reality as had Platonism and Aristotelianism, they are, nonetheless, important in that they reveal the more particular intellectual concerns amidst which Cusa developed his thought.

One question fundamental to understanding Cusa's work is whether he should be read as a medieval Renaissance thinker. Cusa is a notoriously difficult figure to classify historically. Some medieval characteristics found in Cusa's thought are the manner in which his entire philosophy is focused upon the relationship between God and the world, as well as the Christo-centric nature of his thought. Others, however, point to some of the more characteristically modern elements of Cusa's thought and would classify him as an essentially modern philosopher. An example of such modern elements would be Cusa's description of the Absolute as the coincidence of opposites from which all reality unfolds. While Cusa's thought is, in fact, considerably influenced by his medieval predecessors, it is true also that he sees himself as breaking away from many important tenets of medieval philosophy, such as the Scholastic-Aristotelian epistemology. This is due, at least partially, to the fact that Cusa lived during something of a historical cusp. In the early Fifteenth Century the medieval world was beginning to wither away, while the Renaissance was only just being born. Thus, the intellectual currents which influenced Cusa's thought are partially medieval, as in the case of nominalism and mysticism, and partially Renaissance, as in the case of humanism.

The Renaissance aspect of Cusa's thought gives his works a somewhat modern appearance and is open to many modern concerns, but the medieval influence saves it from some of the more typical excesses of the Renaissance.⁵⁵ Nicholas of Cusa and Renaissance thinkers in general remind one that there is a continuity in history with no sharp breaks or abrupt transitions. One of the best description of Cusa's thought was provided by Copleston who asserted that Cusa's mind was steeped in the new ideas of the Renaissance, but retained the fundamentally religious perspective of the Middle Ages.⁵⁶ Essentially, Nicholas of Cusa is a man with a foot in both the medieval and the Renaissance world, who is entirely at home in neither.⁵⁷

Religious Mysticism. The fundamentally religious context of Cusa's ideas means that rather than reacting against the religious climate of the Middle Ages, he in fact is inspired by it. Christianity sets the goal and context for all of Cusa's philosophical speculation.⁵⁸ Ernst Cassirer writes that Cusa's "discovery of nature and of man was accomplished from the very heart of religion, where he sought to base and to anchor that discovery."⁵⁹ Any attempt to remove the religious elements from Cusa's philosophy in order to make him appear more modern would necessarily result in distortion. Cassirer goes on to point out that in Cusa's philosophy Christ is not merely "an arbitrary 'theological' appendix rooted in a purely dogmatic interest," but an important and necessary element of Cusa's thought which cannot be taken out without changing the entire character of that thought.⁶⁰ Cusa makes no effort to impose a rigid separation of faith and reason; rather, it is his faith which prods his reason to its greatest heights.

The term mysticism is applied to a vast variety of states of mind. Perhaps the best definition was provided by Jean Gerson: "Mystical Theology is knowledge of God by experience, arrived at through the embrace of unifying love."⁶¹ Thus, mysticism may be distinguished from natural theology in that it is not based upon natural reasoning and differs from dogmatic theology in that it is not based upon revelation. Mysticism provides a knowledge which is grounded not in a process of intellectual reasoning, but in direct experience. This experience is implied by the reference to "unifying love" in Gerson's definition through which the mystic comes to know God.⁶² In coming to this the mystic overcomes the sense of otherness so evident in reality, and becomes aware that in some fashion all reality is one.⁶³

Mystical works were particularly prevalent in medieval Germany and would have had an obvious appeal to Cusa⁶⁴ in his effort to reconcile the distinctions of finite reality within the absolute unity of God, which he saw as transcending the limits of man's reason. One mystic who greatly influenced Cusa's thought was Meister Eckhart who propounded what is often described as a "rational mysticism."⁶⁵ Eckhart was possibly a student of Albert the Great and certainly one of his followers as is indicated by the frequent citations of Albert in Eckhart's work.⁶⁶ Eckhart draws some of the Neo-Platonic elements from Albert's philosophy, such as the emanation of the universe from the Divine and expands upon them.⁶⁷ Ultimately, Eckhart's approach ends up being far more Neo-Platonic and mystical than anything in Albert.⁶⁸

The rational flavor of Eckhart's mysticism is seen in the fact that nowhere in his works is there any description of the Divine rapture which he may or may not have experienced; likewise, there is no regimen of ascetic practices which puts one on the path to the Divine.⁶⁹ Eckhart's mysticism is directed entirely at expressing an intellectual understanding of the Divine rather than a mystical encounter; it is in that respect that he greatly influences Cusa's philosophy. Both Eckhart and Cusa seek to make mysticism's great truth regarding the unity of all reality rationally accessible, while maintaining the distinction between finite and infinite reality. Because of this, both are acutely aware of the tensions and polarities of the person's own relationship to God. The mystic is both entirely alienated from God in that his mystical encounter makes him keenly aware of the limitations of finite reality; yet, the Divine is simultaneously closer to one than one's own breath or hands due to the unifying love of the Divine.⁷⁰ Cusa's use of paradox is an attempt to offer a public and accessible mysticism, rather than an esoteric one which would require heroic efforts and so be possible for only a small fraction of humanity.⁷¹ Finally, the rational emphasis in Cusa's mysticism can be seen in his warning against false states of rapture which result in fantastic visions that have only a semblance of truth but, in fact, are false.⁷²

Nominalism. This medieval influence profoundly effected Cusa's thought. The rise of nominalism in the Fourteenth Century helped weaken the dominance of Scholasticism and thereby contributed to the emergence of divergent views during the Renaissance.⁷³ The influence of nominalism was strong in Germany where it was a considerable force in many of the major universities including those attended by Cusa (Heidelberg and Cologne).⁷⁴ The nominalists asserted that universals were not names of real entities (i.e. essences, natures, species, et cetera) but merely single terms determined entirely by convention and applied to various individual things. Thus, the idea of "man" is not really a universal idea, but a particular, albeit confused, idea indiscriminately applied to various individuals without regard to their actual uniqueness.⁷⁵

One key to the nominalist conception of the universe lies in its emphasis upon the freedom of the Divine. Heiko Oberman's examination of the work of Gabriel Biel, a nominalist contemporary to Cusa, makes this clear. Biel, like Duns Scotus and Ockham before him, distinguished God's absolute power from His ordained power.⁷⁶ God's ordained power decrees the laws which actually govern the universe and He may choose to do things in accordance with those laws. However, God is capable of doing anything which does not imply a contradiction, regardless of whether or not it is consistent with the laws of the universe. There is much which God can do that He has not chosen to do; this is what is meant by God's absolute power.⁷⁷ Thus, God is in no way constrained to create things in one way rather than another, and this provides the basis for the nominalist's rejection of the universals.⁷⁸

Because God's actions are not necessitated, human reason is incapable of deducing anything about God's absolute nature by examining the effects of his ordained power.⁷⁹ In short, the state of the world as it actually exists tells man nothing about the inherent nature of the Divine.⁸⁰ In fact, for nominalists like Biel, human reason is capable of acquiring only the sparest knowledge of the Divine, essentially limited to the fact that God exists; that His existence is personal, and that He is wise. In fact, even God's oneness is regarded as being only probable according to both Ockham and Biel.⁸¹

Cusa's own thought partially incorporates some of the concerns of the nominalists. Though he rejects the idea of a separated world of forms he does not adopt the extreme nominalist position which denies their existence entirely. Cusa presupposes an awareness of certain absolute universal ideas, such as straightness, truth, goodness, et cetera, and asserts that all existing individual entities do in fact possess forms of their own.⁸² These forms are derived from the Absolute and are images of the Absolute. It should be emphasized, however, that they are only images of the Absolute and cannot be equated with the Absolute Itself. Because of this it is possible for the human knowledge to formulate, in a certain limited sense, a concept of the Divine. Hence, even though one's knowledge of the Divine is always imperfect (keeping one ignorant), one can know why it is imperfect (making that ignorance to be learned). Therefore, one's knowledge is always capable of improvement.⁸³ Because of the approximate nature of human knowledge, Cusa agrees with the nominalists in their rejection of the validity of a deductive theology. For both Cusa and the nominalists human intellectual abilities cannot comprehend the Absolute; therefore, theologians must ultimately base their assertions about the Divine on a few revealed texts.⁸⁴

The rejection of the real existence of forms has several consequences upon the development of the history of thought. The positive elements of the nominalist's rejection of universals and the new sensibilities which were developed because of it played a fundamental role in shaping the Renaissance. One of the most formative ideas of the Renaissance is the emphasis upon the individual which was greatly facilitated by the nominalist's rejection of the forms. This is because once the forms have been removed a thing is no longer representative of a certain kind, but is itself a singular entity which shares no real common species with any other thing. It is this focus upon the individual which no doubt contributes to Cusa's interest in diversity and his enthusiasm for humanism. The nominalist's rejection of forms and emphasis upon the individual gave impetus not only to Cusa's personal interest in humanism, but also to that of the Renaissance as a whole. Nominalism's rejection of deductive theology also directed philosophy toward a more exclusive and hence rigorous examination of the human by taking away the basis upon which the God-centered thought of the Middle Ages was built. This contrasted to the Platonic conception of reality where all entities possessed their fundamental reality through their forms. These entities were images of the ideas which were the real objects of knowledge and in turn participated in the One which provided the source and archetype of all being.

Humanism. This was one of the most pervasive characteristics of the Renaissance and greatly influenced Cusa's thought. It reflected a broad concern with the study and imitation of classical culture. Its adherents were, strictly speaking, either teachers or students of the curriculum of studia humanitatas, i.e. grammar, rhetoric, poetry, history and moral philosophy.⁸⁵ This movement inspired the study of classical Latin and, to a lesser extent, Greek. Although it remained chiefly a scholarly, educational and literary movement, nonetheless, it affected Renaissance philosophy by transmitting to it many ancient ideas. If by philosophy one confines oneself to the systematic and technical realms of the various subjects as defined by the ancient, medieval and modern traditions, then humanism made significant contributions in the areas of ethics, politics, and to some extent even in logic. If, however, the influence of philosophy is taken into account in less systematic, yet more popular thinking, such as jurisprudence and the arts, then the influence of humanism is even greater.⁸⁶

The humanist revival of Greek and Roman literature had its greatest effect in reinvigorating Platonism or, more properly Neo-Platonism.⁸⁷ The influence of Renaissance Platonism resided in its stimulating and providing a framework for Renaissance philosophers to express their belief about the full development of man's highest potentialities and of the natural world as an expression of the Divine. In doing this, however, they did not, as a rule, separate one from one's fellow humans or God; thereby they avoided the alienation that comes from excessive individualism or irreligion.⁸⁸ The substance of Cusa's philosophy clearly puts him in the humanist camp, though he is well aware of its pitfalls. In one of his sermons he warns that although the humanist's knowledge of the past is valuable, it must be adapted in the light of contemporary experience.⁸⁹ This sentiment is echoed in the Idiota de Mente where the layman lectures not only the scholastic philosopher, but also the humanist orator for failing to take an inclusive enough approach to the Absolute. Cusa also sees humanism as compatible with disciplines outside the studia humanitatas such as mathematics and the natural sciences; as has been shown, he was far less hostile to Aristotle than other humanists, such as Petrarch.⁹⁰

The glorification of man which characterized Renaissance humanism stands in fundamental contrast to the non-theistic or restrictive humanism of the modern era. For the Renaissance humanist, humans were created directly by God in order to rule over the rest of creation in accord with the spiritual and rational powers with which God had endowed him. The human's unique and privileged status is derived from the immortality of the human soul, the Incarnation, and one's beatification and ultimate resurrection, all of which contribute to giving one a dignity which surpasses even that of the angels. Though the Renaissance humanists balanced this optimism with a deep awareness of human flaws, they, nonetheless, formulated what is perhaps the most affirmative view of human nature in the history of thought.⁹¹

Since the human person is created in the image and likeness of God, it is not surprising that he or she shares in God's power, though in a significantly limited manner.⁹² This means that one's action upon the natural world must be in accord with natural law on both the physical and moral planes. One must act in a way befitting a being made in God's image, but not act as if one were God. This would deprive the person of his or her dignity since it would involve treating one's fellow humans, who equally are God's creations, as inferior beings and, in doing so, diminish one's own being.⁹³ This principle can also be extended to the rest of creation as well since it too is a reflection of the Divine, though one which is much less perfect. In this fashion, one would deny the unity which he or she shares with both one's fellow humans and the natural world. By and large, the Renaissance humanists refused to deify nature despite their reverence for it.⁹⁴

The Life of Cusa

Having dealt with the historical forces which shaped Cusa's thought, we will tighten the focus even more and show how his personal background contributed to his thought. This will enable us to see how Cusa was able to make direct contact with the previously discussed trends. By knowing the ideas which were circulating at the time and the way in which Cusa contacted them, one can gain a better understanding of Cusa's own writing.

Nicholas of Cusa was born in 1401 in the city of Cues (now merged with Bernhastel).⁹⁵ His father, named Krebs, was a rather prosperous barge operator on the Moselle River.⁹⁶ Havelock Ellis describes the Moselle as one of the regions in Europe which combines the Germanic character with Latin dynamism and the Gallic tendency toward a cosmopolitanism which transcends national boundaries. It thereby creates a spirit which gave birth to such geniuses as Albert the Great Kepler, Schiller, Schelling and Hegel. These areas also have proven particularly successful at reconciling national differences as in Alsatia and Switzerland.⁹⁷ Because Cusa came from an area where many different types of people had to live together and to accommodate their differences Cusa's concern for a unity which retains plurality was to some degree the product of his "Lebenswelt."⁹⁸ For him unity is not the suppression of differences, but a harmonious synthesis where individual identity is not obliterated.

Another interesting parallel between Cusa's personal character and that of his philosophy is its active character. Cusa's life was not one of monastic contemplation, but that of a man heavily involved in the affairs of the world. It is also worth noting that Cusa was the son not of a noble house, but of a successful merchant and, therefore, more a product of the emerging and dynamic mercantile culture than of its relatively stagnant feudal predecessor. This economic development would create philosophical problems with which scholars trained only in biblical exegesis, the Sentences of Peter the Lombard, and the various summas could not adequately deal.⁹⁹ Cusa's thought reflects this dynamism by focusing less upon the pure essences of substances and more upon the relationship between those substances.¹⁰⁰

Cusa's formal education played an important role in his intellectual development. He first attended the University of Heidelberg and then enrolled in the University of Padua, where he remained until 1423.¹⁰¹ While at Padua, Cusa received a degree in Canon Law, but also studied mathematics and physics. It was his contact with the Italian humanists, however, which most influenced Cusa while he was at Padua.¹⁰² Ernst Cassirer claims that Cusa's arrival in Italy at the age of seventeen had the most profound effect upon his thought.¹⁰³ This is supported by the fact that Cusa, who grew up in the Conciliarist Northern Europe and had originally supported its claims of authority over the Pope at Basel, quickly adopted the humanist and papalist policies of Italy.¹⁰⁴ Lastly, Cusa enrolled in the University of Cologne in 1425, where he came under the influence of Heimeric de Campo and, through him, encountered the thought of Pseudo-Dionysius.¹⁰⁵

In 1426, as a practicing attorney, Cusa came to the attention of Cardinal Giordano Orsini. Orsini appointed Cusa his personal secretary, and thereby ushered the young man into the forefront of Italian humanism. These circles were impressed by Cusa's reputation as a manuscript hunter with access to the essentially unknown monastic libraries of Germany, and Cusa was not reluctant to help procure these manuscripts for them. In 1429 Cusa's fame as a manuscript hunter was sealed by his discovery of twelve previously unknown comedies of Plautus.¹⁰⁶ He was sent to the Council of Basel in 1432 to plead the case of Ulrich von Manderscheid, who sought to become the new Archbishop of Trier. Upon arriving, he was appointed to one of the four principal delegations (de fide) and played an active role in the council's deliberations. In 1434, Cusa wrote a work entitled De Concordantia Catholica, a long and wide-ranging proposal for church and state reform, which was to become the major theoretical work of the Counciliarists at Basel.¹⁰⁷ In March of that year the Council ruled against Cusa in the case of Ulrich von Manderscheid. Cusa spent the next year with the de fide deputation arranging a financial settlement for his client. It is also at this time that the anti-papal atmosphere at Basel made Cusa increasingly disenchanted with the Counciliarist position. Between 1435 and 1436, Cusa received two benefices and had them confirmed by both the Council and the Papacy; throughout the year he worked to strengthen his ties to the Papal party. Cusa was firmly aligned with the Papal faction by 1437, when he was named as one of three delegates to go to Constantinople to work on reunification with the Orthodox Church.¹⁰⁸

James Biechler claims that Cusa's preoccupation with unity is an attempt to find symbolic justification for his abandonment of the Counciliarist cause at Basel.¹⁰⁹ It is more likely, however, that Cusa's concern for unity is what had, in fact, initiated his change of heart. As early as 1433, Cusa exhibited a deep concern for religious unity when he wrote a work, entitled Epistolae ad Bohemos, which dealt with the Hussite heresy. It is likely that for someone of Cusa's northern European background, Counciliarism would appear to be the only viable method for governing the Church and, therefore, of attaining a unified Christendom.¹¹⁰ Cusa, however, as Biechler also points out, was a firsthand witness to the chaos of Counciliarism at Basel; this called the very viability of Counciliarism into question.¹¹¹

Cusa's contemplative life also reflects an overwhelming concern for unity. This was directed toward reconciling finite oppositions within the unity of the Absolute, just as his active life sought to reconcile religious oppositions within the unity of the Church. A concern which so permeated Cusa's life would seem to have required much deeper roots than the need for symbolic justification of a political change of heart.

As Bishop and Cardinal, Cusa continued to encourage Church reforms. He campaigned vigorously against such practices as simony and concubinage in an attempt to eradicate them. He also denounced relic worship and urged the learning of Christian doctrine so people would not be subject to irrationality and emotional superstition. Two of the most revealing reforms to receive Cusa's support were his discouragement of religious confraternities on the grounds that, instead of fostering spiritual unity, they tended to isolate their members from the larger Christian community, and his attempt to regularize the liturgy in order to encourage the ideal of the universal church that transcended local distinctions.¹¹² Both of these cases reveal Cusa's concern for maintaining the unity of the Church. Cusa strictly enforced his reforms and punished all transgressions severely, though his success in these endeavors was rather mixed.¹¹³

It is odd that though Cusa's ideas were known by many who came after his precise doctrinal positions seem to have had little formative influence on the major thinkers of his era. Pico della Mirandola was aware of Cusa, but Ernst Cassirer's attempts to link Cusa with the various members of Florence's Platonic Academy have proven unconvincing.¹¹⁴ Kepler also refers to the "divine Cusanus," but Cusa's ideas hardly anticipated those of Kepler.¹¹⁵ Copernicus was aware of at least the second book of De Docta Ignorantia, but again those ideas do not serve as principles for constructing a mathematical model of the universe, nor are they the products of such a model.¹¹⁶ Another major thinker who was aware of Cusa was Descartes, but he likewise did not shape his thoughts along Cusan lines. Perhaps the best way to view Cusa's relationship to his philosophical heirs is as someone who contributes not particular conclusions, but a spirit, and with it certain impulses and tendencies. This should not be underestimated.

In his work entitled Truth and Method, Hans-Georg Gadamer defines style as those undiscussed assumptions upon which historical consciousness is based. He points out that different modes of thinking and speaking about reality are appropriate to particular purposes and suited to meet particular demands.¹¹⁷ He applies this idea of style to political history as well as to all other actions.¹¹⁸ This notion of style promises to be helpful here regarding the act of thinking and intellectual history.

The first section of this chapter outlined the evolution of the understanding of the concept of unity. There, one saw that each step in the understanding of unity was accompanied by a new style of thought. As humankind moved from the totemic understanding of unity to the mythic, its thinking was freed from the sensible and became more imaginative. Likewise, the move from the mythic conception of unity to the philosophical required a change in thinking from that based on the imagination to one which was more ordered and rational. Such changes in the style of thinking result in opening up new vistas upon reality and thereby uncovering previously hidden truths.

Cusa's philosophy is an explicit attempt to create a new style of thinking in reference to the Absolute. For Cusa, one cannot use discursive reason to inquire into the nature of the Absolute, but by intellect and imagination one can develop an appreciation of the all-encompassing nature of the Divine. In doing this, one gains new insight into the nature of reality itself, particularly, as a pattern of relationships.

Cusa encourages a new style of thinking also in reference to the finite world and this has profound implications for the development of modern science, seeing the natural world as an image of the Absolute endows its study with enhanced importance and dignity. Cusa also emphasizes the importance of measurement for understanding the natural world, as well as the tenuous nature of rational conclusions in that regard; both of these are indispensable for the development of the modern scientific enterprise.

Because Cusa comes at the end of the medieval era and the beginning of the modern one he addresses many of the concerns of the modern era, yet is not a part of it; hence he maintains something of an alternate perspective. Thus, though Cusa contributes no particular scientific doctrines his influence upon the development of science is far more pervasive in that it provides new objectives for thought and a new way of thinking.¹¹⁹ The same is true regarding the contribution of this new way of thinking to the broader culture as a whole where it opens new ways of understanding social relations and of grasping the meaning of all in God. Because Cusa has been so overlooked by his philosophical successors, it will be of particular interest to examine his thought; since this is, indeed, the road not taken, it invites scholars to seek out where it will lead and what new insights it has yet to provide.

THE METHOD OF THIS WORK

Since the previous sections have dealt with the major purposes of this chapter, this final section will deal with the minor purpose of explaining the methodology to be used in this work. Its central issue is to examine the role which unity plays in the metaphysics of Nicholas of Cusa and to uncover what ethical implications this might have. Cusa abandons the precise terminology of the Scholastics and is inclined toward the mystical; he seeks to give an account of something he himself claims to be beyond rational analysis, linguistic expression and human comprehension. Hence, it is better to examine a number of Cusa's works in order to obtain a clear view of his thought than to concentrate on just one. This is possible because Cusa's work exhibits a high degree of continuity throughout much of his life. De Docta Ignorantia is universally regarded as Cusa's masterpiece and serves as the point of departure for Cusa's most serious thought. The work comes to him as an illumination on a voyage to Constantinople as part of the papal delegation which was to meet with the Byzantine Emperor and the Patriarch of Constantinople.¹²⁰ Ernst Cassirer asserts that all of Cusa's subsequent works are merely extensions of this work.¹²¹ Jasper Hopkins concurs, claiming that Cusa never veers from the fundamental positions outlined in De Docta Ignorantia, but simply expands upon them in a variety of ways.¹²²

Cusa's Apologia Doctae Ignorantiae is an indispensable aid for understanding De Docta Ignorantia. He wrote this work in response to an attack upon De Docta Ignorantia by Johannes Wenck. Wenck was a respected theologian from the University of Heidelberg who accused Cusa of holding heretical opinions. Cusa dismisses Wenck as a man who "understands nothing at all"¹²³ and goes on to clarify what he had said in De Docta Ignorantia. Other works which will be examined in this work are, De Possest, De Dato Patris Luminum, De Li Non Aliud, De Visione Dei, and De Pace Fidei. In De Possest and De Li Non Aliud, Cusa inquires into the nature of the infinite and attempts, as he would describe it, to name the unnameable. The importance of De Visione Dei lies in its clear revelation of the personal and loving nature of the Divine. In De Dato Patris Luminium Cusa attempts to give an account of how an imperfect world can be the product of a perfect creator and does so in a manner which emphasizes the dynamic relationship between God and the world. Cusa's major work on religious tolerance is De Pace Fidei. This discusses not merely how men with differing visions of the Divine can live together in peace, but how their very diversity contributes to a more complete understanding of the Divine and, in practice, facilitates peace.

Format of This Work

This first chapter has examined the historical background of the concept of unity with particular attention to those forces which most contributed to the formation of Cusa's thought. Chapter II will now proceed to inquire into the dynamic nature of Cusa's metaphysics, particularly, as regards to his notion of being and unity. The third chapter will discuss Cusa's conception of the Divine as absolute unity. It will examine the principle of the coincidence of opposites and what this principle entails, as well as its implication for enabling one, through the use of metaphor and paradox, to gain insight into a being which exists without distinction. The fourth chapter will discuss the dynamic unfolding of reality from the Divine unity and how reality participates in the Divine. The fifth chapter will focus upon the ethical implications of the unfolding from the Divine, relating Cusa's metaphysical principles to the realm of human action. In Part II the focus will shift from explicating Cusa's ideas on unity and the Divine to articulating how Cusa's unique insights can provide a new perspective on a variety of contemporary ethical issues. Chapter VI, VII, and VIII will suggest possible approaches in the spirit of Cusa to issues of religious, social and economic unity, respectively. The concluding chapter will focus on how the tradition's idea of unity shaped Cusa's thought and how Cusa's concept of unity enriched the tradition. It will discuss also the ethical implications of these for both the public and private realms.

Part I of this work will be based primarily upon an analysis of Cusa's own texts attempting to interpret them in the light of their proper Renaissance setting. This will provide us with insight into the character of being within Cusa's thought, which reflects the cultural transition from the medieval to the modern world. From Cusa's new vision of being we will then attempt to draw implications for the ethical world. It is hoped that in this fashion this work will be able to shed new light on understanding the writings of Cusa and how his understanding can address some characteristic difficulties of the present era.

1. Lucien Levy-Bruhl, How Natives Think (New York: Washington Square Press, 1966), p. 62.

2. Ibid., p. 73.

3. Ibid., p. 80.

4. Ibid., p. 327.

5. Ibid., p. 328.

6. Ibid., p. 329.

7. George F. Mc Lean, Plenitude and Participation: The Unity of Man in God (Madras: University of Madras, 1977-78), p. 30.

8. Werner Jaeger, The Theology of Early Greek Philosophers (New York: Oxford University Press, 1967), p. 13.

9. Ibid., p. l4.

l0. Ibid., p. 139.

11. Mc Lean, p. 32.

12. Ibid., p. 34.

13. Ibid., p. 47.

14. Ibid., p. 56.

15. Ibid., p. 72.

16. Ibid., p. 80.

17. Ibid., p. 76.

18. Ibid., p. 77.

19. Ibid., p. 81

20. Ibid.

21. Colin Brown, ed., The New International Dictionary of the New Testament Theology (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House, 1977), p. 720.

22. S. Johannes Botterweck and Helmer Ringgren, eds., Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing House, 1977), Vol. 1, l97.

23. Brown, p. 720.

24. Botterweck and Ringgren, p. l98.

25. Ibid., p. l99.

26. Ibid., p. 200.

27. Ibid.

28. H. A. R. Gibb and J. H. Kramer, eds., Shorter Encyclopedia of Islam (Leiden, Netherlands: E. J. Brill, 1953), p. 586.

29. Therese-Anne Druart, "There is no God But God," New Catholic World (l987), 264.

30. Ibid., p. 265.

31. Ibid., p. 266

32. Jeffrey Burton Russell, Mephistopheles: The Devil in the Modern World (Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, l986), p. 295.

33. Kenneth L. Schmitz "Community The Elusive Unity," Review of Metaphysics, 37 (1983), 244.

34. W. Widick Schroeder, "Unity and Diversity Among Humans," Zygon, 13 (l978), 76.

35. Lewis Edwin Hahn and Paul Arthur Schilpp, eds., The Philosophy of Gabriel Marcel (La Salle, Illinois: Open Court, l984), p. 544,

36. Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness, Hazel Barnes. trans. (New York: Philosophical Library, 1956), p. 626.

37. Ibid., p. 627.

38. Schroeder, p. 71.

39. Ibid., p. 72.

40. Mc Lean, p. 42.

41. Arthur Little, The Platonic Heritage of Thomism (Dublin, Ireland: Golden Eagle Books Ltd., 1950), p. XI.

42. Cornelio Fabro, Participation et causalite selon S. Thomas D'Aquin (Louvain, Universitaries De Louvain, 1961), p. 207.

43. Little, p. 286.

44. Ibid., p. 232.

45. Armand A. Maurer, Medieval Philosophy (New York: Random House, 1962) p. 310.

46. Pauline Moffitt Watts, Nicholas Cusanus: A Fifteenth Century Vision of Man (Leiden, Netherlands: E. J. Brill, 1982), p. 23.

47. Ibid., p. l8.

48. Walter Bado, "What is God? An Essay on Learned Ignorance," Modern Schoolman, 42 (1964-65), 30.

49. Nicolo Cusano Agli Inizi del Mondo Moderno (Florence, Italy: Sansoni, 1970), p. 24.

50. Jasper Hopkins, Nicholas of Cusa on God as Not-Other (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Arthur J. Banning Press, l987), p. l0.

51. Nicolo Cusano Agli Inizi del Mondo Moderno, p. 73.

52. W. H. Hay, "Nicholas Cusanus: The Structure of His Philosophy," Philosophical Review, 61 (1952), 14.

53. Ibid., p. 23.

54. Maurer, p. 313.

55. Frederick Copleston, History of Philosophy, Vol. III. Ockham to Suarez (Westminister, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1953), p. 245.

56. Ibid., p. 246.

57. Dominic J. O'Meara, ed., Neo-Platonism and Christian Thought (Norfolk, Virginia: International Society for Neoplatonic Studies, 1982), p. 144.

58. Clyde Lee Miller, "A Road not Taken: Nicholas of Cusa and Today's Intellectual World," Proceedings of the American Catholic Philosophical Association, 57 (1980), 72.

59. Ernst Cassirer, The Individual and the Cosmos in Renaissance Philosophy (New York: Harper and Row Publishers, 1963), p. 12.

60. Ibid., p. 38.

61. New Catholic Encyclopedia (New York: McGraw Hill Book Company 1967), Vol. 10, p. 175.

62. Ibid.

63. Paul Edwards, ed., Encyclopedia of Philosophy (New York: MacMillan Publishing Co., Inc.), 5 (1967), 429.

64. Copleston, p. 181.

65. Lewis White Beck, Early German Philosophy: Kant and his Predecessors (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Belknap Press, 1969), p. 44.

66. Ibid., p. 45.

67. New Catholic Encyclopedia (New York: McGraw Hill Book Company 1967), Vol. 1, p. 256.

68. Beck, p. 47.

69. Ibid., p. 49.

70. Ibid., p. 48.

71. Lucie Brind Amour and Eugene Vance, eds., Archeologie du signe (Toronto, Canada: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1983), p. 315.

72. Watts, p. 155.

73. Copleston, p. 231.

74. Beck, p. 77.

75. Ibid., p. 72.

76. Heiko Augustinus Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology: Gabriel Biel and Late Medieval Nominalism (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1963), p. 36.

77. Ibid., p. 37.

78. Beck, p. 75.

79. Oberman, p. 38.

80. Beck, p. 75.

81. Oberman, p. 40.

82. Bado, p. 22.

83. Ibid.

84. Nicholas of Cusa, Unity and Reform, John Patrick Dolan, ed. (South Bend, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 1962), p. l4.

85. Charles B. Schmitt and Quentin Skinner, eds., The Cambridge History of Renaissance Philosophy (Cambridge, England: University Press, l988), p. 113.

86. Ibid., p. 134.

87. Copleston, p. 240.

88. Ibid., p. 216.

89. John Millbank, "Man as Creative and Historical Being," Downside Review, 97 (1979), 254.

90. Giovanni Santinello, Studi dell' umanesimo europeo (Padua, Italy: Istituto Di Storia Della Filosofia, 1969), p. 27.

91. Charles Trinkhaus, In our Image and Likeness: Humanity and Divinity in Italian Humanist Thought (Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press, 1970), Vol. 1, 14.

92. Ibid., Vol. 2, 767.

93. Ibid., p. 77.

94. Copleston, p. 216.

95. O"Meara, p. 201.

96. Jasper Hopkins, A Concise Introduction to the Philosophy of Nicholas of Cusa (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Arthur J. Banning Press, l986), p. 3.

97. Jasper Blystone, "Is Cusanus the Father of Structuralism," Philosophy Today, 16 (1972), 298.

98. Ibid,, p. 299,

99. Schmitt and Skinner, p. 38.

100. Blystone, p. 299.

101. Watts, p. 2.

102. Hopkins, p. 3.

103. Cassirer, p. 33.

104. Watts, p. 1.

105. Hopkins, p. 3.

106. Watts, p. 3.

107. Ibid., p. 4.

108. Ibid., p. 5.

109. James E. Biechler, The Religious Language of Nicholas of Cusa (Missoula, Montana: American Academy of Religion and Scholars Prsss, 1975), p. 76.

110. Ibid., p. 11.

111. Ibid., p. 7.

112. Watts, p. 7.

113. Ibid., p. 8.

114. Ibid.

115. Cassirer, p. 42.

116. Nicolo Cusano Agli Inizi del Mondo, p. 317.

117. Hans-Georg Gadamer, Truth and Method (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1982), p. 449.

118. Ibid., p. 452.

119. Cassirer, p. 46.

120. Germain Heron, "Forward" in Of Learned Ignorance, Nicholas of Cusa (London, England: Routledge, Kegan, Paul, 1954), p. 19.

121. Cassirer, p. 7.

122. Jasper Hopkins, Nicholas of Cusa's Metaphysic of Contraction (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Arthur J. Banning Press, l983), p. 33.

123. Jasper Hopkins, Nicholas of Cusa's Debate With John Wenck (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Arthur J. Banning Press, l988), p. 11.