Tracing the many aesthetic, philosophical, and technological parallels between cinema and astronomy, Hannah Goodwin demonstrates how filmmakers have used cosmic imagery and themes to respond to the twentieth century's moments of existential dread. As our outlook on the future continues to change, Stardust illuminates the promise of cinema to bear witness to humanity's fragile existence within the vast expanse of the universe.

James Elkins has shaped the discussion about how we—as artists, as art historians, or as outsiders—view art. He has not only revolutionized our thinking about the purpose of teaching art, but has also blazed trails in creating a means of communication between scientists, artists, and humanities scholars. In Six Stories from the End of Representation , Elkins weaves stories about recent images from painting, photography, physics, astrophysics, and microscopy. These images, regardless of origin, all fail as representations: they are blurry, (...) dark, pixellated, or otherwise unclear. In these opaque images, Elkins finds an opportunity to create stories that speak simultaneously to artists and to scientists, and to open both those fields to those of us who have little purchase in either. Regarding each image through the lens of the discipline that produced it, Elkins simultaneously affirms the unique structure of each way of viewing the world and brings those views together into a vibrant conversation. (shrink)

Since the beginning of human history, there has been no society that did not have any religion. Man meets his need to believe, encoded in his nature by turning to God. God has not left humans alone in their journey on earth, and from time to time, He has intervened in the world through his prophets. The prophethood, which constitutes one of the main subjects of theology, is an important institution in God-human communication. The messengers chosen by God convey (...) to people the information that they received through revelation and offer teachings that will bring them to salvation. The idea of salvation by God when suffering or feeling helpless has driven people to the expectation of a savior. Nearly all religions except Shintoism have the awaited savior belief in the world. Accordingly, the savior will emerge in an environment of chaos where disasters are experienced, and a moral collapse is observed. The expected savior will drive people away from this turmoil, bring them happiness, well-being, and lead them to salvation. Although there is a savior belief in Judaism and Christianity, Muslims claim that the awaited savior in these religions is Muhammad. Muslim thinkers who believe that Muhammad was heralded in previous scripts, tried to find evidence on the subject from the Bible. One of the Islamic scholars who did researches for this purpose is Shamsuddin al-Samarqandi. Shamsuddin Mohammed b. Ashraf al-Husayni al-Samarqandi is an important Turkish-Islamic scholar who lived in Turkestan at the end of the 7th century and the first quarter of the 8th century. Samarqandi is a versatile scholar who produced important works in various fields such as philosophy, logic, mathematics, discussion, debate and astronomy. Shamsuddin al-Samarqandi is one of the eminent scholars who have written his name in the history of science and philosophy with his works. He adopted a critical and analytical style in almost every field, putting the science of logic at the center of his system. His constructive criticisms had an important function in understanding and interpreting the ideas of numerous thinkers, from Greek philosophers to Islamic philosophers and representatives of philosophical theology. In addition to all these, Samarqandi did not hesitate to criticize the Christian and Jewish belief systems, religions such as Sanawiyyah and Zoroastrianism, and the teachings of the naturalist philosophers regarding the relationship between God and the world in the light of rational and scriptural evidence. Samarqandi, who distinguished himself in rational sciences, also showed himself with his background in theology. Due to his exceptional intellectual interest, he analyzes some key concepts and divine codes related to the Bible, making original inferences about the loyalty of Muhammad, the prophet of Islam. Samarqandi interprets some passages of the Torah and the New Testament, which he considers as signs of Muhammad's prophethood, in the axis of language, logic and the rules of shariah, and concludes that Muhammad is the last prophet to be announced. The conceptual framework that he mostly focuses on in this regard contains Mount Paran, Paraklite, comparison with Moses, and the good news given to the Ishmaelites. Samarqandi makes inferences about the environment in which Muhammad appeared, his qualities, and his lineage, based on the aforementioned concepts. Samarqandi also responds to the criticisms raised by the Ahl al-Kitab about the principles, such as the abolition of other religious rules constituting the basis of Muhammad's legitimacy and establishment of Islam instead, and him being a universal prophet. An important privilege of Samarqandi is that he not only grounds his claims on a theoretical scale but also engages in debates with the leaders of the Ahl al-Kitab. Although Samarqandi exhibits a satisfactory analytical attitude in most of his claims, he displays a sophisticated approach based on the method of coercion (ilzām) in some of his claims. Although he adheres to the tradition of beshair al-nubuwwah in general, he gives a different perspective and strong reasoning to the same evidence within the tradition with the effect of his identity as a verifier (muhaqqik). (shrink)

Arthur S. Eddington, FRS, (1882–1944) was one of the most prominent British scientists of his time. He made major contributions to astrophysics and to the broader understanding of the revolutionary theories of relativity and quantum mechanics. He is famed for his astronomical observations of 1919, confirming Einstein’s prediction of the curving of the paths of starlight, and he was the first major interpreter of Einstein’s physics to the English-speaking world. His 1928 book, The Nature of the Physical World, (...) here re-issued in a critical, annotated edition, was largely responsible for his fame as a public interpreter of science and has had a significant influence on both the public and the philosophical understanding of 20th-century physics. In degree, Eddington’s work has entered into our contemporary understanding of modern physics, and, in consequence, critical attention to his most popular book repays attention. Born at Kendal near Lake Windermere in the northwest of England into a Quaker background, Eddington attended Owens College, Manchester, and afterward Trinity College, Cambridge, where he won high mathematical honors, including Senior Wrangler. He became Plumian Professor of Astronomy at Cambridge in 1913 and in 1914 Director of the Cambridge Observatory. Eddington was a conscientious objector during the First World War. By the end of his career, he was widely esteemed and had received honorary degrees from many universities. He was elected president of the Royal Astronomical Society (1921–1923), and was subsequently elected President of the Physical Society (1930–1932), the Mathematical Association (1932), and the International Astronomical Union (1938–1944). Eddington was knighted in 1930 and received the Order of Merit in 1938. During the 1930s, his popular and more philosophical books made him a well known figure to the general public. Philosophers have found his writings of considerable interest, and have debated his themes for nearly a hundred years. (shrink)

The cover page of John Gribbin's The Birth of Time, listing more than thirty books he has written on astronomy, physics, and general science, shows the success this author has had in making these subjects interesting to and understandable by the general public. The eight chapters of The Birth of Time, ending with a useful list of books for further reading and a well‐compiled index, do indeed present a readable account of a difficult subject: man's attempts, from the time (...) of the ancient Greeks onward, to understand what is out in the sky and our place in that world. The book contains no mathematics and can be enjoyed by general readers, high school students, and teachers.The first chapter is historical: an account of the progression from Arabic science at the end of the first millennium, including the discovery and recognition of fossils as indicators of a geological history of the earth, through the seventeenth century's beginnings of an attempt to understand this history. The second chapter provides an account of the twentieth century's growing knowledge of the physics of stars, with nuclear energy as the source of their outpouring radiation. The fundamental work of Sir Arthur Eddington at the University of Cambridge is described here, and a simple account is given of the evolution of stars, from their formation from clouds of gas and dust to their eventual death as spectacular explosions or as cold, inert lumps of mass.Only in Chapter 3 does the author get to the real basic techniques of distance measurement, starting with triangulation by surveyors on the earth's surface and proceeding with ever‐increasing baselines, as Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, and Galileo made their impact on our understanding of the solar system and measurement of the earth's distance from the sun made this baseline the tool for distance measurements of stars.The concept of “standard candles”—stars whose intrinsic luminosities could be determined and whose apparent brightness could be measured, thus yielding their distances—is described next. A fair description is given of the epochal discovery in 1912 by Henrietta Leavitt, working at the Harvard College Observatory on routine measurement of variable stars on photographic plates, of our nearest neighbor galaxy, the Small Magellanic Cloud. She discovered a tight relationship between the periods of variation of a certain class of variable stars, the Cepheids, with their overall brightness, thus giving posterity the most important starting tool for distance measurements of galaxies outside the Milky Way.As Gribbin takes readers through the history of the gradual understanding of the place of our home galaxy, the Milky Way, in the universe at large, the work of various heroes of these progressive discoveries and the pitfalls encountered by others are described, somewhat unevenly. The astronomer Vesto Slipher, observing the spectra of galaxies with the twenty‐four‐inch telescope at Lowell Observatory in northern Arizona, receives due credit for the first measurement of line‐of‐sight recession velocities of galaxies, from the Doppler shift of atomic lines in their spectra toward the red end of the spectrum. The role of Milton Humason, former mule driver, janitor, and eventually the famous associate of Edwin Hubble, in the discovery from these redshifts of the expansion of spacetime is well described. Allan Sandage, a former Hubble pupil who is clearly Gribbin's hero, might himself demur at the enthusiasm with which his work is described; while Gerard de Vaucouleurs, were he still with us, would not be pleased with the account of his work that led to a value for the Hubble Constant—the quantity that converts measured recession velocities of galaxies to their distances from us—twice that determined by Sandage.The description of Gribbin's own recent research , which he describes as “just one minor brick in the scientific edifice” , based as it was on his belief that our sun and solar system exist in a very ordinary average‐sized spiral galaxy, is quite interesting. It follows a chapter giving an account of recent additions to the arsenal of astronomers' tools for distance measurement in the universe—and also the nasty systematic biases that can slant the result away from what one hopes is correct.The book is illustrated by eight nicely printed pages of images obtained by the Hubble Space Telescope. It is easy to read and tells its story in a friendly, chatty style. Though it concludes by suggesting a value of some 13 billion years ago as the epoch of “the birth of time,” the discerning reader will realize that the story is still evolving and that surprises can be expected. (shrink)

This introduction to physical science combines a rigorous discussion of scientific principles with sufficient historical background and philosophic interpretation to add a new dimension of interest to the accounts given in more conventional textbooks. It brings out the twofold character of physical science as an expanding body of verifiable knowledge and as an organized human activity whose goals and values are major factors in the revolutionary changes sweeping over the world today.Professor Kemble insists that to understand science one must (...) understand not only what the scientists have discovered, but how the discoveries were made, why the growth of scientific knowledge had to begin slowly, and what it has done to our habits of thought. He has written neither a history of science nor an introduction to the philosophy of science but an introduction to scientific concepts and principles that supplies as much of their historical and philosophical context as limits of space permit.The volume takes up in turn the story of the astronomy of ancient Greece, the Copernican revolution, the idea of the expanding sidereal universe, the rise of Newton's classical mechanics with its many astronomical applications, the concept of energy and its relation to heat, to steam engines, and to thermodynamics. The volume ends with an account of the successes and failures of classical kinetic-molecular theory of heat. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 41.3 (2003) 426-427 [Access article in PDF] Timothy Smiley, editor. Mathematics and Necessity: Essays in the History of Philosophy. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Pp. ix + 166. Cloth, $35.00.Mathematics and Necessity contains essays by M. F. Burnyeat, Ian Hacking, and Jonathan Bennett based on lectures given to the British Academy in 1998. All concern the history of the philosophical treatment of (...) mathematics, necessity, or both, although there is no single thread running through all three essays.Burnyeat focuses on Plato's understanding of mathematics in the Republic, making use of the Timeaus in particular to defend his interpretation. Plato claimed that in the ideal society mathematics should be studied for a full ten years, which many have thought excessive. To explain it, Burnyeat argues that the role of mathematics is pervasive: ethics and politics are mathematical, because in Plato's view mathematics is a constitutive part of ethical understanding. On Burnyeat's interpretation, goodness is part of the objective world, and mathematics is a science of values. The link between mathematics and goodness in the objective world is forged by the concord, harmony, and unity of proportions, which express the goodness of the Divine Craftsman's beneficent design. Proportions are both intrinsically good and the proper study of mathematics.Burnyeat explains why Plato thinks abstract kinematics (the pure non-sensible counterpart to astronomy) and abstract harmonics lead to knowledge of the good. Abstract kinematics concerns the "harmony of the spheres" described in the Republic. Drawing heavily on the Timeaus, Burnyeat argues that the circular motions of the spheres are motions in the intelligence of the world soul and that there are similar motions in human souls. The world soul and human souls are spatial and have circular motions (invisibility and intangibility make them incorporeal). Souls are the most important subject matter of abstract harmonics—the study of good proportions. A soul that understands the various mathematical disciplines and their relations takes on the harmony and hence goodness of the world soul. Such a soul serves as a model for organizing the social world, a model which properly trained rulers can use to shape a community. Burnyeat's well-argued essay is compelling and exciting. [End Page 427]Ian Hacking's views provide a great contrast to Burnyeat's Plato. Hacking conducts a phenomenological inquiry into why some philosophers have become obsessed by mathematics as a source of philosophical inspiration. He holds that mathematics concerns a relatively minor part of human culture and that the influence of mathematics on philosophy is pernicious; he even describes it as an infection.Hacking examines the views of six philosophers: Plato, Leibniz, Mill, Descartes, Lakatos, and Wittgenstein. Hacking's assessment of the six philosophers is at times disputable, but it is also interesting and stimulating, and serves his phenomenological inquiry.Hacking traces philosophy's infection by mathematics to two factors. A mathematical proof can be perspicuous; that is, a proof can be "grasped," which requires seeing directly why something must be true and being able to recapitulate it. A mathematical proof can also anticipate facts about the world. He thinks that these two factors affect us in two ways: they give us the idea of a priori knowledge, and they dazzle us into unreasoned conviction in proofs. One might respond that, setting aside the feeling proofs give us, we are still justified in being impressed by them. Hacking argues that much of what impresses is based on a misunderstanding of their nature, which he attempts to correct.According to Hacking, a mathematical demonstration involves shifts of meaning that analytically bind the proof and the theorem it establishes. They thereby mutually support each other and provide what he calls self-authentication. The correctness of the proof is supported by the "analytified" truth of the theorem and the theorem is considered true because proven.This bootstrapping feature of mathematical proofs supports Hacking's deflationary account of necessity. Hacking suggests that the "must" of logical necessity rests upon our unwillingness to accept empirical counter-examples to the... (shrink)

The author intends this book to be a theoretical contribution to the sociology of knowledge. Her main effort is to isolate and describe what she takes to be four irreducible systems of knowledge which dictate, for those who share in them, "thinking and action concerned with the nature of the world." The four systems of knowledge, which she calls magical, religious, mystical and scientific, are connected to specific types of thought. There are three basic types of thought connection: empirical, (...) rational, and abstractive. Empirical thought establishes connections at the purely observational level, whereas rational thought, of which mathematical and metaphysical systems are examples, makes connections only at the theoretic level. By contrast, abstractive thinking connects the observational and theoretic levels. Magical thought is purely empirical. Mystical thought accepts the evidence of empirical observation, but seeks to abstract the individual's thought to a theoretic end state which is not rational. Religious knowledge combines rational connections among concepts with abstractive connection of concepts to observables, but the religious concepts are not identified with any empirical objects. Finally, scientific thought combines rational, empirical and abstractive thought. Each of these four systems of knowledge has a characteristic conception of power. In a magical system, power consists of the ability to gain observable ends. For mystical knowledge systems, power is the individual's achievement of escape from empiricism and rationalism. In religious systems individuals may have authority, but power belongs exclusively to "god." In scientific systems of knowledge, power "consists of ability to theoretically anticipate or explain empirical transformations." Likewise, each of the four systems of knowledge is related in some way to certain social situations. In the light of these theoretical distinctions, the author examines a number of theories and developments in social science and the history of thought. She finds Malinowski's distinctions between magic, religion and science quite inadequate. Weber's sociology of religion fares better. She invokes the development of planetary astronomy, of mechanics, and of evolutionary biology to illustrate her definition of science. Finally, the problem of knowledge in the modern world is seen to be due not to an overemphasis on science as she defines it, but to the persistence of magical thought in the political, economic and social spheres. Though the author's efforts at definition are interesting, this is in many ways a difficult and unsatisfying book. Written in a lapidary style, which is lacking both in grace and connectives, the book utilizes historical and sociological data very selectively. No reference is made to what has been done in the sociology of knowledge by Scheler, Mannheim, Berger and Luckmann. Finally, the book bristles with questionable epistemological assumptions and with statements which seem quite incompatible with the findings of recent work in the study of religion.--H. F. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 63.4 (2002) 555-575 [Access article in PDF] Measurer of All Things:John Greaves (1602-1652), the Great Pyramid, and Early Modern Metrology Zur Shalev [Figures]Writing from Istanbul to Peter Turner, one of his colleagues at Merton College, Oxford, John Greaves was deeply worried: Onley I wonder that in so long time since I left England I should neither have received my brasse quadrant which I (...) left to be finished for my journey thither, nor any notice of it [...]. I agreed with mr. Allen upon price and the time that he should finish it, if he hath failed me he hath done me the greatest injury that can be. 1A great injury indeed, because Greaves's journey to Italy and the Levant was all about measuring—luckily the instrument did reach him at some later stage. The thirty-six-year-old Professor of Geometry at Gresham College was taking the measurements of countless monuments and objects in the locations he visited. In Rome he measured, among many other ancient structures, Cestius' Pyramid and St. Peter's basilica. In Lucca, deeply impressed, he counted his paces around the beautiful city walls. In Siena he observed together with a "Mathematical Professor" one of the Sidera Medicea using "a glass." In Egypt he even hurt his eyes gazing at the sun, looking for sunspots and measuring its diameter. 2 His measuring mission, however, culminated in the fixing of the [End Page 555] latitudes of Istanbul, Rhodes, and Alexandria. As Bishop Juxton wrote before the trip to Greaves's employers at Gresham College (apparently using Greaves's own promotional language): This worke I find by the best astronomers, especially by Ticho Brache [ sic ] and Kepler, hath beene much desired as tending to the advancement of that science, and I hope it wil be an honour to that nation and prove ours if we first observe it. 3A mathematician-Orientalist, commanding the ancient and modern astronomical and geographical literature of Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, and Persian authors, Greaves was arguably the best qualified European at the period to perform the task. That he miscalculated the latitude of Rhodes is of less consequence for his present-day readers. 4 However, one of the most obscure and therefore telling of his measurement activities was the survey of the Pyramids of Giza, which resulted in the Pyramidographia (1646). 5 This remarkable learned treatise and travel account hybrid, which is at the focus of the present study, gives us a glimpse into the rich and complex world of scientific antiquarians.Greaves is most conveniently remembered today as an Orientalist. While we must be thankful to Edward Said for broadening the meaning of Orient-alism—from an academic discipline, accumulating objective knowledge of the East, into a much wider cultural discourse, his emphasis on the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and on the European colonial mindset is less useful for making historical sense of what early modern Orientalists were doing—physically and culturally. We can understand Greaves's "Oriental" enterprise in its [End Page 556] depth and variety only within long established European traditions of scholarship and keeping the intellectual concerns of his time in mind. 6But beyond articulating for us the nature of early Orientalism, the Pyramidographia, as well as Greaves's entire scientific career, situated in their wider European context, provide a fine entry point into a foreign world of learned practices and methods. It teaches us how well into the seventeenth century astronomy and philology, observation and bookishness, could coalesce in one figure, in one enterprise. 7 We still lack a modern biography of Greaves, a complex protagonist of a complex period, and even a full evaluation of his intellectual work. While this paper surely cannot compensate for that, I do attempt here a brief exposition of Greaves's Pyramidographia. 8Modern historians of archaeology and Egyptology, preoccupied mostly with the disciplines' progress and development of scientific standards, have noted the Pyramidographia in passing and praised its precise language and rigorous research... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Cosmopolitan Peirce:The Impact of His European ExperienceJaime Nubiola, Guest EditorKeywordsCharles S. Peirce, Europe, ScienceThe common image of Charles Sanders Peirce as an isolated thinker writing in Arisbe without any contact with the world is not only historically inaccurate, but also makes it difficult to understand some key elements of his philosophy. Charles S. Peirce traveled to Europe on five different occasions. The five trips occurred between the (...) years 1870 and 1883, all of them in the service of the Coast and Geodetic Survey, at that time the chief scientific agency of the United States. Those trips—which covered a total of thirty-eight months—were a rich mixture of scientific research and tourism, of communication with other scientists and also of enjoying the artistic treasures of Europe. The impact of this extensive travelling was so relevant in Peirce’s life and thought that it makes perfect sense to identify this period of time as his “cosmopolitan period”—to use Max Fisch’s expression (Fisch 1986, 227).Peirce’s experiences of his European trips are lively reflected in his broad correspondence (professional and family letters), which until now has been unduly neglected by the scholarship, due in part to the difficulties accompanying access to it and in part to the general lack of interest from the analytic tradition in the biographical aspects of philosophy. We are convinced that the feelings that Peirce experienced in Europe were seeds which bore fruit in later years. A close study of Peirce’s letters and other documents of those years will help in avoiding a number of misunderstandings about his thought and its evolution by highlighting his active participation in the first line of several fields of cooperative scientific research (astronomy, geodesy, etc.). [End Page 425]In this issue we collect three papers presented at the 2014 Charles S. Peirce International Centennial Congress, authored respectively by Nathan Houser, Sara Barrena and myself. The first paper, written by Nathan Houser, describes how Peirce’s European experiences influenced the development of his thought and helped shape his philosophy. It appears likely that his thought was decidedly influenced by his intellectual and personal contact with European scientists and philosophers. So to understand Peirce as an American philosopher it is necessary to grasp that he was profoundly influenced by European thought and culture and to inquire how his American and European experiences worked together to form his ideas and shape him into the world-renowned philosopher he became.Sara Barrena’s paper focuses on Peirce’s aesthetics. While Peirce claims to not be well acquainted with aesthetics, he always was interested in that field. In spite of the fact that Peirce did not develop the issue in depth, aesthetics is at the foundation of the other normative sciences. Barrena suggests that the trips through Europe and the contemplation of so many works of art and of historic places left in his memory impressions that are at the basis of the importance that Peirce would assign to art and aesthetics in his later years.The final paper, by Jaime Nubiola, describes—with documental support from Peirce’s correspondence from his first and second European trips—Peirce’s conception of science as a collective and cosoperative activity of people whose lives are animated by the desire to find out the truth and by “an impulse to penetrate into the reason of things” (CP 1.44, c.1896). The paper deals with Peirce as an inventor and builder of research instruments around which scientific communities are built, and with Peirce’s own experience of cooperation in science.In sum, a close study of Peirce’s letters and other documents of his “cosmopolitan period” will help avoid certain misunderstandings about his thought and its evolution, highlighting his active participation in the first line of several fields of cooperative scientific research (astronomy, geodesy, etc.). A better understanding of Peirce’s activity in those years will provide a richer and more sympathetic approach to him, and correct that all too common but inaccurate image of Peirce as an isolated thinker.Jaime Nubiola, Guest EditorUniversidad de Navarra [email protected], Charles S. Collected Papers of Charles Sanders... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Two Processions To Eleusis And The Program Of The MysteriesNoel D. RobertsonA Persistent Difficulty in our Understanding of the Eleusinian Mysteries has been the date and composition of the great parade from Athens to Eleusis, near the midpoint of the celebration. The handbooks adopt a desperate remedy, an ad hoc doctrine about the festival calendar. But the evidence of Athenian inscriptions, which has grown steadily without being properly (...) analyzed, now imposes an unlooked– for solution. There were two processions on successive days, and only the first was integral to the worship. In this new light we can see better how the festival took shape around the original procession of initiates.A Calendar ProblemAn Athenian decree of ca. A.D. 220 lays it down that on 19 Boedromion the hiera, previously brought from Eleusis to Athens, shall be escorted from Athens to Eleusis by the company of ephebes.1 Admittedly, this is very late, and it is also a time of danger and disorder, as reflected in the decree. Yet the sole concern is to maintain the old ways (the very style of the decree is archaizing). The calendar day cannot be questioned.Plutarch, however, says repeatedly that on 20 Boedromion the statue of Iacchus is escorted from Athens to Eleusis.2 He must have known the occasion at first hand, and is moreover an expert on the calendar—on the character of each day of the month, treated in his work and in his commentary on Hesiod, and on all commemorative days in the year, many of which are noted in the Lives and the Essays. And this day, 20 Boedromion, was redolent of history as no other—of Salamis, of Alcibiades, of Phocion. Again, the calendar day cannot be questioned.The usual recourse has been to say that a single procession, with both the hiera and Iacchus, spanned two calendar days: the procession left Athens in the daytime, which was counted as 19 Boedromion, and arrived at Eleusis in the evening (and led into a nighttime celebration), which was counted as 20 Boedromion.3 Varro is cited in support. For in the book De Diebus of his great work Res Humanae, in discussing the possible limits for a calendar day (an interesting question before we settled on the midnight epoch), Varro stated that the Athenians reckoned the day from sunset to sunset.4 A daytime departure would then fall on one day, and an evening arrival on the next.On general grounds, this is not implausible. The day was so reckoned by the peoples of Mesopotamia, Assyrians and Babylonians and others, for both astronomical and ritual purposes, over thousands of years. Theirs is by far the largest body of ritual texts in the ancient world, and the entry for a given day often runs through evening, night, [End Page 548] and daytime as successive stages.5 But our faith in Varro receives a shock when he declares that the "Babylonians" reckon the day from sunrise to sunrise, in just the opposite way from the Athenians.6In fact the evidence proves, and it is now granted by all authorities, that the Greeks at large, and the Athenians among them, reckoned the day from sunrise to sunrise. Homer says "dawn," not "day," to mark the passage of time ("When the twelfth dawn had come..."). The Athenian idiom, "old and new," shows that the last day of the month, the day following the night of the lunar conjunction, was itself counted together with the night of the first new moon.7 It is no doubt conceivable that beside ordinary usage there was also a technical definition of a day for special purposes.8 Yet no trace of such a day survives.Greek astronomy reckons the day from sunrise to sunrise.9 Ritual texts scarcely ever disclose a full–day sequence, but when they do, the order is the reverse of Mesopotamian texts: from day to night.10 Apart [End Page 549] from the matter at hand, two other Athenian festivals present some difficulty with successive days, and the supposed evening epoch is again invoked by the handbooks.11 Yet in the one case, the festival of Bendis... (shrink)

The possible existence of extraterrestrial life led in the eighteenth century to a heated debate on the unique status of the human being and of Christianity. One of those who discussed the new scientific worldview and its implications for theology was the Swedish natural philosopher and theologian Emanuel Swedenborg. This article discusses Swedenborg's astrotheological transformation, his use of theological arguments in his early cosmology, and his cosmogony that later on ended up in his use of contemporary natural philosophy in his (...) theology, especially concerning the question of the plurality of worlds. I will first sketch the astrotheology found in his natural philosophical works, and then turn to the astrotheology of his later spiritual teachings. In Swedenborg's works we find teleological arguments and a stress on the universality of the divine creation and Christianity, as well as anthropomorphic descriptions of extraterrestrial life. By reconciling contemporary astronomical ideas, among others the concept of the plurality of worlds, with Christian dogmas, Swedenborg refuted deistic conclusions that Jesus was merely a mortal, while at the same time keeping his belief in the modern astronomical worldview. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Moses Maimonides: The Man and His WorksAlfred L. IvryHerbert A. Davidson. Moses Maimonides: The Man and His Works. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Pp. x + 567. Cloth, $45.00Herbert Davidson is a scholar of exceptional brilliance whose previous studies of medieval Jewish and Islamic philosophy have been widely acclaimed. In the present work, he ventures beyond philosophical argument to encompass an analysis of every aspect of the (...) life and work of one of the most celebrated—and controversial—figures in Jewish history, Moses Maimonides (1138–1204). In so doing, Davidson discloses a formidable knowledge of Talmud and rabbinic literature, as well as of the history, science, astronomy, medicine and philosophy of Maimonides' day. Davidson offers elegant descriptions and often challenging evaluations of Maimonides' life, education, and work: the rabbinic oeuvre, philosophical and medical treatises, and miscellaneous epistles.Maimonides' accomplishments do not include a number of works commonly but mistakenly attributed to him, in Davidson's opinion. He offers persuasive reasons (though admittedly not always conclusive proof) for rejecting Maimonidean authorship of a "Treatise on Logic," and the Epistles "In Opposition to Astrology" and "On Religious Persecution." Davidson's rejection of the last named epistle abets his interpretation of the early period of Maimonides' life, according to which he was not compelled to convert or to dissimulate a faith in Islam, as many think. [End Page 484]It is a cardinal principle for Davidson, though he does not identify the term as such, that Maimonides never practiced dissimulation in any significant way, or as Davidson sees it, that he did not lie. Davidson's Maimonides, for all the personal failings he notes, is a figure of immense rectitude and religious sincerity, to be taken at his word.Davidson comes, then, to defend Maimonides against his past and present critics who see esoteric and heretical teachings lurking behind Maimonides' protestations of orthodox belief. Davidson is no simple apologist for Maimonides, however, and does not hesitate to identify places in Maimonides' writings where the Master nodded. Such places abound for Davidson in Maimonides' philosophical masterpiece (as it is commonly thought), the Guide for the Perplexed, raising the strong suspicion that Davidson hardly regards it as such (creation arguments apart). He is much more taken with Maimonides' rabbinic acumen and achievements than with his philosophical work, arguing that Maimonides did not, when writing the Guide, have the time and concentration he possessed when composing the Commentary on the Mishnah and the Mishneh Torah.Davidson is assured by the strong and traditional affirmations of faith expressed in Maimonides' rabbinic writings that he maintained the same beliefs in his philosophy. The reconciliation of faith and reason is a theme that runs through all of Maimonides' writings. For Davidson this issues in a religious philosophy both radical and conservative: radical in that the Jewish God assumes an Aristotelian mien; conservative in that a "measure of personality" (365) is expressed through the act of creation and the performance of other miracles, notably the revelation at Sinai, prophecy, and resurrection. Problematic as he acknowledges the latter notion is for Maimonides, Davidson yet believes he held it.This is typical of Davidson's iconoclastic posture towards much of contemporary Maimonidean scholarship. Davidson does not believe Maimonides knew all that much philosophy and was not as careful with his writing as he claimed; that he did not have a first-hand knowledge of Aristotle, using Avicenna mostly instead; that his vaunted secret "Accounts of Creation and of the Chariot" were thinly disguised common notions of medieval physics and metaphysics; and that his entire claim to secret or esoteric teachings has none of the significance scholars in the past or present have given it.Here Davidson's bête noir is Leo Strauss, whom he regards as projecting his own dissimulating tactics upon Maimonides, turning him into an atheist (400). Davidson sees Shlomo Pines, adopting Strauss' methodology, as foisting an agnostic posture upon Maimonides. Davidson does not consider a Deistic alternative, probably assuming it incompatible with a creator God. Yet Maimonides' God functions dispassionately in His governance of the world, not knowing individuals directly, and offering them only a collective immaterial immortality.Maimonides exempts Moses and... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Abraham, Planter of Mathematics":Histories of Mathematics and Astrology in Early Modern EuropeNicholas PopperFrancis Bacon's 1605 Advancement of Learning proposed to dedicatee James I a massive reorganization of the institutions, goals, and methods of generating and transmitting knowledge. The numerous defects crippling the contemporary educational regime, Bacon claimed, should be addressed by strengthening emphasis on philosophy and natural knowledge. To that end, university positions were to be created devoted to (...) "Artes and Sciences at large," rather than to the professions. High salaries would render lecturers "able and sufficient," undistracted from their task. Most famously, he argued that teaching of the "operatiue studie of many Scyences" should involve sophisticated technical education. The study of natural philosophy demanded not only books, but globes, astrolabes, and other "instrumentals." Most significantly, yielding reliable and meaningful knowledge from experiential gleanings required a rigorous system of deductive reasoning.The legacy of this colossal proposal has earned Bacon honored status as devisor of the scientific method.1 But Bacon's educational reform extended [End Page 87] beyond the methods of producing and transmitting knowledge. To facilitate more efficient "vse and administration" of the knowledge produced by his system, he also demanded a searching examination of the history of learning. This history would provide a mirror enabling his contemporaries to deploy the fruits of his method, by considering how learning in the past had been used successfully or ill-advisedly. Producing this history was the ambition of the Advancement, for he explained: "no man hath propounded to himselfe the generall state of learning to bee described and represented from age to age, as many have done the works of Nature, & the State civile and Ecclesiastical." He continued:And yet I am not ignorant that in divers particular sciences, as of the Iurisconsults, the Mathematicians, the Rhetoricians, the Philosophers, there are set down some smal memorials of the Schooles, Authors, and Bookes: and so likewise some barren relations touching the Invention of Arts, or usages. But a iust story of learning, containing the Antiquities and Originalls of Knowledges, & their Sects; their Inventions, their Traditions; their diverse Administrations and Managings; their Flourishings, their Oppositions, Decayes, Depressions, Oblivions, Removes, with the causes, and occasions of them, and all other events concerning learning, throughout the ages of the world; I may truly affirme to be wanting.2Bacon thus positioned himself not only as a Father of Modern Science, but also a Father of the History of Science.Following Bacon's suggestion, I will examine the "small memorials" of the history of mathematics—and particularly the mathematical art of astrology—in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. My conclusion, however, will not bear out Bacon's claims. Despite his frustration, Bacon was only one of many early modern scholars appraising the role of mathematics within history. And he devoted less energy than others to mapping its origins and tracing its transmissions between communities. In fact, Bacon's 1605 proposal for a history of mathematics was already out-of-date. Discussions [End Page 88] of the history of mathematics had been rife on the continent and in England throughout the previous century.3The evidence that Renaissance scholars inherited was sprawling and inconclusive. Several genealogies for mathematics could be found within classical Greek, Latin, and patristic references. One lineage claimed mathematics began in ancient Assyria, where the priestly caste, the Chaldeans, practiced a form of mathematics that seemed a corrupt admixture of philosophy, medicine, and religion, and relied heavily on observation of the heavens. Other scholars traced the origins to Egypt, claiming that the field developed to survey lands frequently flooded by the Nile. The real problem for ancient, late antique, and medieval scholars had not been the origins of mathematics, but what exactly mathematics were. For some, the term strictly referred to the quadrivium: geometry, arithmetic, astronomy, and music. But for others, mathematics' origins amongst the Egyptians or Chaldeans inextricably linked it to forms of astrological divination, augury, and necromancy that were unsavory to both Latin and Christian traditions. Mathematici were included alongside ghastly lists of Magi, Brahmins, Aruspices, Genethliaci, and other diabolic practitioners of idolatrous magic. These might or might not be distinguished from mathematici such as Pythagoras... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Transitions to a Modern Cosmology: Meister Eckhart and Nicholas of Cusa on the Intensive InfiniteElizabeth BrientThe Epochal Transition from the late medieval to the early modern world has long been thought in terms of the gradual “infinitization” of the cosmos. Traditionally this process has been studied by focusing on the pre-history and the aftermath of the Copernican revolution, that is, by describing the transition from the finite, hierarchically (...) ordered medieval cosmos to the infinite and homogeneous universe of the new astronomy. I would like to situate this paper within the context of a more general reading of the process of the infinitization of the medieval cosmos. That is, I want to argue that this process of “infinitization” must be understood intensively as well as extensively. Nature, in the modern age, is thought of not only as infinitely extended in space, but also as exhibiting an infinite richness in all of its parts. Each particular, each individual being is grasped as utterly unique, as infinitely rich and consequently as conceptually inexponable. Thus the infinitization of the real leads to an infinitization of the knowable—the radical shift in ontology grounds a corresponding shift in epistemology, so that the progress of human knowledge is understood as an unending project infinitely extended over time. In order to underscore both aspects of the infinitization of the medieval cosmos (intensive as well as extensive) I will focus on the way in which a single metaphor (that of the infinite sphere) is unfolded historically in the thought of Meister Eckhart and Nicholas of Cusa.1 This paper may thus be viewed as a case study of [End Page 575] the way in which the modern notion of “intensive infinity” may be traced back to late medieval speculation on the nature of God’s omnipresence in the world.1. EARLY SOURCES OF THE INFINITE SPHERE METAPHORThe metaphor of the infinite sphere makes its first appearance in the pseudo-Hermetic Liber XXIV philosophorum, a small book in the literary form of an “opus propositionum” which, in twenty-four propositions, describes the ineffable essence of God in the mystical language of Neoplatonic theology. It is in the second proposition of this book that we find for the first time the formulation, “God is an infinite sphere, whose center is everywhere, whose circumference is nowhere.”2 This formulation represents a significant development in the history of the Neoplatonic conception of intensive unity, and in the Christian understanding of divine infinity. The Neoplatonic One is here identified with God as infinite being. As a result the relationship between the One and the many, between God and the world, comes to be viewed in a new light, through the lens of “infinite unity.” The metaphor of the infinite sphere is a paradoxical formulation which pictures the coincidence of divine immanence with divine transcendence. That is, it expresses a double infinity: both intensive and extensive. God’s center is located at every point, as it were, indicating the plenitude and infinite richness of God’s being, while there is no limit, no boundary to the extent of God’s all-encompassing reach. The infinite sphere figures the divine nature as an intensive plenitude without end or bounds. The third and next proposition in this same work goes on to strengthen this sense of divine intensity, by asserting that God in his entirety is present in every part (Deus est totus in quolibet sui). The divine nature is not spread out compositionally, as it were, but is wholly present throughout. Proposition 18 describes God as a sphere which has just as many circumferences as points (Deus est sphaera cuius tot sunt circumferentiae, quot sunt puncta), once again, an exploding image which can only make sense in the case of an infinite sphere. These three propositions taken together provide us with a springboard for considering the nature of infinite unity. The exploding paradox of the infinite sphere [End Page 576] provides a rubric for thinking the coincidence of transcendence and immanence, a way of conceptualizing infinite unity, which cannot be “grasped” with finite concepts or through discursive reasoning. The metaphor of the infinite sphere finds its meaning precisely in the way... (shrink)

Current popular narratives regarding the history of astronomy espouse the narrative of scientific development arising from clashes between observed phenomena and dogmatic religious scripture. Such narratives consider the development of our understandings of the cosmos as isolated episodes in ground-breaking, world-view shifting events, led by rational, objective and secular observers. As observation of astronomical development in the early 1600s shows, however, such a narrative is false. Developments by Johannes Kepler, for instance, followed earlier efforts by Nicholas Copernicus to (...) refine Aristotelian-based dogma with observed phenomena. Kepler's efforts specifically were not meant to challenge official Church teachings, but offer a superior system to what was than available, based around theological justifications. Popular acceptance of a heliocentric model came not from Kepler's writings, but from the philosophical teachings of Rene Descartes. Through strictly mathematical and philosophical reasoning, Descartes not only rendered the Aristotelian model baseless in society, but also provided a cosmological understanding of the universe that centred our solar system within a vast expanse of other stars. The shift than, from the Aristotelian geocentric model to the heliocentric model, came not from clashes between theology and reason, but from negotiations between theology and observed phenomena. (shrink)

The longing for aerial flight has been one of mankind's most consuming preoccupations. A burning desire for lightness, verticality, and flight is opposed to the fatality of universal gravity. Jules Michelet, in his study of the subject, entitled L'Oiseau (The Bird), which he wrote toward the end of his life, deems this aspiration for upward motion to be characteristic of all nature. He writes: “It is the cry of all the earth, of the world and of all life… : (...) ‘Wings! We want wings, we want flight and movement.’” From ancient times, this basic element of physical experience has nourished human imagination and been a source of motivation for the pursuit of scientific knowledge. Mesopotamian civilization had its winged divinities and spirits; indeed the Western tradition of depicting winged persons has been linked to the influence of Mesopotamian art. As Jules Duhem has pointed out, four centuries before Jesus Christ, Aristotle himself was already exploring certain notions that have become part of the history of ideas of aeronautics and astronomy. Among these are the ideas of void, weight, the resistance of air, and the movement of birds and other flying creatures. Duhem has also demonstrated that Aristotle proposed an explanation, as imperfect as it was, for what causes projectiles to fall from the sky. Throughout the ages, humanity has continually expressed its desire to fly: “Man is proud of being free and of leaning on nothing,” Elias Canetti has written in regard to man's upright position. Striking examples of the impulse to fly are to be found not only in scientific discourse but in myths, literature, and works of art. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:A History of American Music EducationSondra Wieland HoweA History of American Music Education, 3rd edition, by Michael L. Mark and Charles L. Gary. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Education, 2007, 500 pp., $95.00 cloth, $44.95 paper.Mark and Gary's editions of A History of American Music Education are indispensable reading for every music education student, practicing professional music educator, and the general reader who is interested in the development (...) of music teaching in American public schools. Based on excellent secondary sources, this history presents an overview of music education from Colonial America, through the development of textbooks in the nineteenth century and the growth of professional organizations in the early twentieth century, to the expansion of the curriculum and the role of government in education since 1950.This third edition is written by Michael L. Mark, professor emeritus at Towson University in Maryland, and dedicated to the memory of his friend and coauthor, Charles L. Gary.1 Mark has written two other books that complement the history editions. Contemporary Music Education surveys various reform projects since the 1950s, trends in the philosophy of music education, government policies, and the development of new methods.2Music Education: Source Readings includes writings about music education from both the European and American perspectives.3 There are many recent articles and dissertations on the history of music education, but the only recent book is Terese Volk's Music, Education, and Multiculturalism, which describes school programs and materials emphasizing multiculturalism in the twentieth century from a historical perspective.4 Publications in musicology add to our knowledge of the history of music in American society, but musicologists rarely write about music in public schools. Publications on the history of education are helpful in understanding trends in music education, but these publications do not discuss music.The third edition of A History of American Music Education is expanded to 500 pages from the approximately 400 pages of the earlier editions, largely because of new formatting and [End Page 115] spacing that make the third edition easier to read. Each chapter has a reference list in APA style in contrast to the Chicago Manual style of the earlier editions, with endnotes plus a bibliography at the end of each chapter. The material in Mark's third edition is basically the same as the earlier editions, with some expansion of the history of music education after 1950.This book, based on secondary sources, is an overview of the history of music in American public schools, showing the response of education to societal needs during various historical periods. There is an emphasis on the role of national music organizations, especially MENC: The National Association for Music Education (MENC), in advocating for the importance of music for every child. The historical account includes the various justifications for teaching music and discussions of the meaning of music. There were times when music educators were interested in aesthetics, but there were also many times when they were mainly interested in a practical understanding of music and extrinsic motives for including music in the school curriculum.5The first section on "The Western Heritage" (chapters 1-3) briefly covers music in Jewish traditions through the Greek and Roman cultures because the insights of these ancient thinkers influenced all Western societies. The chapter on the Middle Ages through the Reformation shows the role of music as a practical subject, part of the quadrivium with arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. As music became an integral part of the church, musicians developed methods of teaching note reading. Martin Luther promoted the singing of "good music" in schools and education in the vernacular for the middle classes. With the development of Italian conservatories and the patronage of music by the elite classes of the Renaissance, music training became specialized for musicians working in the church and courts. These various conflicting European opinions of the role of music in society influenced American education.The second section on "The New World" (chapters 4-5) emphasizes the use of music as a means of praising God. Spanish musicians established successful music education programs in Peru and Mexico to promote Christianity. The French brought Christianity to... (shrink)

Immanuel Kant’s admiration of the “starry sky” above him and the “moral law” within us has become a philosophical topos today. While the “moral law” is the subject of practical philosophy, Kant refers to an object of astronomy for the main task of theoretical philosophy - namely, to answer the question “What can I know? “. Volume III tackles this question - generalizing to the “hard” sciences of physics, chemistry, and cosmology. It focuses on specific questions that have always (...) been considered “philosophical” in the broadest sense by the interested public and even among physicists themselves: “What is simultaneity at different places?”, “Which interpretation of quantum mechanics is the correct one and what follows from it for our view of the world?” – and, last but not least, “Did the universe exist from eternity or does it have a beginning (and an end)?”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:If the Buddha Is So Great, Why Are These People Christians?Grace G. BurfordSince I began to study Buddhism as a Swarthmore College undergraduate and recognized my worldview as Buddhist, I have been puzzled about Christians who care about the Buddha. Why would a Christian care about the Buddha? I don’t care a whit about Jesus, hence my difficulty in fathoming how a Christian could get all caught up in (...) the Buddha. To put it another way, especially when I was first “turned on” to Buddhism (it was, after all, the seventies), I had trouble understanding why people who had studied Buddhism extensively, and whom I respected as otherwise quite smart and sensible, seemed to be doggedly determined to stay Christians! All of my Buddhism teachers in the course of my undergraduate and graduate study (with the notable exception of Walpola Rahula) fell in this category, it seemed—though we never really discussed it. Why didn’t we discuss it? I did wonder about how they could dedicate their professional lives to—and be such effective teachers of—a tradition they did not believe in. If they were so taken by Buddhism, why did they hang on to Christianity? If they were Christians, why did they study and teach Buddhism? I guess I assumed it would be impertinent to pursue this question with my teachers and mentors; they were probably (justifiably) somewhat embarrassed by this backwards attachment to Christianity in the face of an obviously superior religion, Buddhism.Why was I so ready to pitch Christianity and take up Buddhism, and my Buddhism teachers were not? Unlike these mentors, by the time I began my study of Buddhism I had already rejected the Christianity in which I was raised. I don’t know why exactly I rejected Christianity so decisively; I had not experienced any trauma in Sunday school and had always loved the community my church provided. But during my junior year in high school I came to the point where I felt certain that I did not believe, nor had I ever really believed, a single word of the Christian creed I could recite so flawlessly. From that time until I discovered Buddhism, I made science-and-rationality my religion. In retrospect, I find it telling that the science I immersed myself in was astronomy—where there was plenty of room for mystery and wonder as I gazed two nights a week through Sproul Observatory’s powerful [End Page 129] twenty-four-inch refractor telescope into the night skies, in the coolest job a college student ever had. I will forever be an advocate of college course-distribution requirements, since it was these—and a friend who confided that “religion courses are not too bad”—that led me to take my first course from Donald Swearer. That same friend avers that I became a religion major because of my work at the telescope. Whatever the explanation, I felt fortunate to have run across Buddhism, to have found a mentor who could teach it so well, and to have discovered a religious path I could embrace enthusiastically. So why did my teacher hold back? Now there was a mystery.I have confessed before in the pages of this journal that my motives for participating in Buddhist-Christian dialogue and cross-religious discussions in general might seem ignoble, or at least not up to the usual expectations of this group. For some reason, my total abandonment of Christianity in my teen years has stuck (well into my forties, anyway). I honestly do not expect my predominantly Buddhist worldview to be enriched by learning more about Christianity. Nevertheless, I am fascinated with and continually enriched by other people and their religions. Despite my aversion to Christianity, I see that Christians are people, too. In fact, I am surrounded by Christians who, for better or worse, operate out of a Christian worldview. I am convinced we need each other, that we must work together to make the world a better place, especially in terms of the environmental crisis and social justice issues. So I am stuck with needing to understand Christians, especially the ones (such as the members of this... (shrink)

Late antique Alexandria is much better known than the early Islamic city. To be fully appreciated, the transition must be contextualized against the full range of Afro-Eurasiatic commercial and intellectual life. The Alexandrian schools ‘harmonized’ Hippocrates and Galen, Plato and Aristotle. They also catalyzed Christian theology especially during the controversies before and after the Council of Chalcedon (451) that tore the Church apart and set the stage for the emergence of Islam. Alexandrian cultural dissemination down to the seventh century is (...) here studied especially through evidence for the city’s libraries and book trade, together with the impact of its educational curriculum from Iran to Canterbury. After the Arab conquest, Alexandria turned into a frontier city and lost its economic and political role. But it became a city of the mind whose conceptual legacy fertilized not only Greek scholarship at Constantinople, but also Arabic science and philosophy thanks to the eighth- to ninth-century Baghdadi translation movement. Alexandria emanated occult energies too, thanks to the Pharos as variously misunderstood by Arabic writers, or the relics of its Christian saints, not least the Evangelist Mark, surreptitiously translated to Venice in 828-29. Study of the astral sciences too - astronomy but also astrology - was fertilized from Alexandria, as far afield as India and perhaps China as well as Syria, Baghdad and Constantinople. Egypt’s revival by the Fatimids, who founded Cairo in 961, had little impact on Alexandria until about the end of the eleventh century when, for a time, the city attracted Sunni scholars from as far away as Spain or Iran, while commerce benefited from the rise of the Italian merchant republics and the beginning of the Crusades. While the early caliphate had united a vast zone from Afghanistan to the Atlantic, the eleventh century saw a reemergence of late antique distinctions between the Iranian plateau, Syro-Mesopotamia, and the two Mediterranean basins. Alexandria was one of the points where these worlds intersected, though sub-Saharan Africa, to which it formally belonged, remained largely beyond its horizon until the twentieth century. (shrink)

Throughout a career spanning half a century, Stan Brakhage--the foremost experimental filmmaker in America, and perhaps the world--wrote controversial essays on the art of film and its intersections with poetry, music, dance, and painting. Published in small circulation literary and arts journals, they were gathered later into such books as Metaphors on Vision and Film at Wit's End. Beginning in 1989, and for a decade thereafter, Brakhage wrote the essays in Telling Time as an occasional column for Musicworks, a (...) Toronto quarterly. Ostensibly about the relation of film to music, they soon enlarged to explore primary concerns beyond film, including Brakhage's aesthetic theories based on the phenomenology of human cognition. In these essays he is as brilliant discussing Gertrude Stein or romantic love as he is on child psychology, astronomy, and physiology, all the while teasing out vital correspondences between the arts, and upending conventional ideas of how we perceive. His investigations of other artists are models of sympathetic intuition and generosity. Above all, he shares his theories, discoveries and understandings in the spirit of establishing a groundwork for many varieties of human liberation. His prose is filled with flashes of insight, elaborated metaphors, playful elisions, shorthand puns and neologisms, personal digressions, surprising epiphanies, leaps of faith, affronts to authority. He appeals to the imagination, and invites us to a more profound and personal experience of art. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The New Physics and Cosmology: Dialogues with the Dalai LamaPaul O. IngramThe New Physics and Cosmology: Dialogues with the Dalai Lama. By Arthur Zajonic. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. 245 pp.Over the years there have occurred several "Life and Mind Conferences" that seek to explore the intersection between the natural sciences and Buddhism, particularly, but not limited to, Tibetan Buddhist tradition. As far as I know, this series (...) of conferences represents the most systematic effort to dialogically engage Buddhist thought and practice with the natural sciences to date. The New Physics and Cosmology is one of a number of published Buddhist-science dialogues to emerge from the Life and Mind Conferences. Its focus is contemporary quantum physics and scientific cosmology in conversation with Buddhist cosmology and is based on a conference held in Dharmasala 27–31 October 1997.Along with the Dalai Lama, the major participants in this dialogue were David Ritz Finkelstein, who teaches physics at the Georgia Institute of Technology and edits the International Journal of Theoretical Physics; George Greenstein, Sidney Dillon Professor of Astronomy at Amherst College; Peter Hut, professor of physics and interdisciplinary studies at the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University; Thupten Jinpa, who has served as the Dalai Lama's principal English translator since 1985; B. Allan Wallace, who trained for many years in Buddhist monasteries in India and Switzerland and is one of the Buddhist pioneers of the Buddhist-science dialogue; Tu Wei-Ming, who directs the Harvard-Yenching Institute and is professor of Chinese History and Philosophy at Harvard; Arthur Zajonc, professor of physics at Amherst College, whose research focuses on the experimental foundations of quantum physics and the relation between science and the humanities; and Anton Zeilinger, director of the Institute for Experimental Physics in Austria and professor of physics at the University of Innsbruck from 1990 to 1999.One of the remarkable features in these dialogues is that in spite of the Dalai [End Page 180] Lama's rather limited knowledge of contemporary quantum physics and cosmology, his questions to the participating scientists go very quickly to the philosophical and religious issues and challenges all religious worldviews must take seriously to remain relevant in the twenty-first century. His explanations of Tibetan Buddhist cosmology and doctrine, especially the epistemology Nagarjuna and the doctrine of sunyata or "Emptiness" as possible correlations with what the natural sciences are revealing about nature, are among the clearest Buddhist discussions in this regard I have read. One might also say that the scientists were very adept in the art of upaya in the manner in which they related their knowledge of very abstract and theoretical scientific issues to the levels of experience of their nonscientific dialogue partners. In particular, the experimental foundations of quantum physics and relativity theory were presented very thoroughly, in ways nonscientist participants could comprehend.Finally, these dialogues are not merely a series of lengthy conversations about supposed parallels between contemporary science and Buddhist teaching and practice. There is no claim that "Buddhism" is a "scientific" religious tradition, as often assumed by writers, both Buddhist and non-Buddhist, who have a tendency to read Western Enlightenment assumptions into Buddhist history. Instead, these conversations are motivated by the search for an alternative epistemological foundation for developing physical theories that could also be relevant to social, philosophical, and religious issues that the natural sciences as such are unable to address. For example, B. Alan Wallace assumes what Ian Barbour describes as an "independence model" in his understanding of the relation between science and Buddhism. Thus for Wallace and the other Buddhist participants, the natural sciences give us objective knowledge about physical processes but do not give us knowledge of an objective world. He then concludes that the function of scientific theories is to make natural events intelligible for the purpose of developing technologies that improve the quality of life. But science has very little, if anything, to say about "absolute truth," which he as a Buddhist names "Emptiness."Clearly, Wallace's interpretation of the natural sciences is based on his appropriation of the "two truth" epistemology that originated with the second century Indian Buddhist logician Nagarjuna. Nagarjuna also... (shrink)

I argue that “time” (χρόνος) in Plato’s Timaeus is the observable astronomical event that consists of the coordinated movements of the sun, the moon, the five observable planets and the earth. This celestial parade forms a unified event that imitates eternity through the uniformity of its movements, its unity in multiplicity, and its never-ending duration (sempiternity a parte post). Therefore, it is a mistake to conceive of time in Timaeus as a celestial clock, the type of movements involved in the (...) celestial parade, an epiphenomenon of those movements, simple duration, absolute time, an intuition, a number or any other formal or metaphysical entity. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Playing with Time. Ovid and the FastiSara MackNewlands, Carole E. Playing with Time. Ovid and the Fasti. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1995. Pp. xii 1 254.I learned a great deal from Carole Newlands’ Playing with Time about a poem with which I have always had difficulty. Newlands takes the Fasti seriously as a poem. She sees it as an artistically shaped creation, not a mishmash of (...) religious and mythological lore, and she regards its constantly shifting perspectives as intended and effective. I think she is right.The introduction, “The Problem of Ovid’s Fasti,” looks briefly at past assessments of the poem before setting out Newlands’ own thesis: The Fasti is “an exciting, experimental game with genre that offers a profound meditation on the changes and tensions in Roman society in the latter years of Augustus’ reign and the early years of Tiberius’” and that expresses “disenchantment with a political system that could guarantee neither the peace nor the freedom in which the elegiac [End Page 149] poet could flourish” (18). The rest of the chapter is devoted chiefly to outlining the argument of the remaining chapters.Chapter 1, “Stellar Connections,” examines the star myths of the Fasti. “Far from providing attractive digressions from Roman ritual, the myths interact with the Roman material, occasionally confirming but more often challenging or undermining the points of view encoded there” (31). Whether they in fact “contribute substantially to the dynamic tension in the poem between Ovid’s former erotic preoccupations and his new national themes,” it is certainly true, as she claims, that Ovid’s introduction of the astronomical theme at F. 1.295ff. has more to do with poetics than it does with astronomy. As always Ovid writes with an eye on his predecessors.In chapter 2, “Narrator and Interlocutors,” Newlands argues that “Ovid invites us to follow his development as a student and teacher of ‘sacra’ who discovers in the Roman past not an inspirational repository of noble heroes, but a patchwork of license and repression, nobility and violence, that is contingent on a variety of competing interests” (52). The narrator becomes increasingly reliant on sub-narrators for information as he becomes less confident in his own ability as narrator and in the feasibility of his project: an elegiac poem on Roman themes.In chapter 3 Newlands argues the need to look at the description of the temple of Mars Ultor in the context of the whole of book 5 and with an eye to the bias of its narrator in order to assess its presence in a poem that initially claims to oppose aras to arma. “The star myths of Chiron (379–414) and Orion (493–544), offer divergent perspectives upon the key concepts of war, Roman history, and revenge that are enshrined in the temple” (89). Mars, who takes over the narrative, has his own perspective on things. Furthermore, Mars has taken over the role of the Scorpion in Ovid’s rewrite of the catasterism myth of Orion and Scorpio “in a substitution that... gives a hint that the concept of revenge, glorified in the war god’s new Augustan temple, cannot be wholly refined of brutal elements” (114). I found this a very interesting chapter, although I was not convinced by some of the details, such as the contrast between Achilles’ and Romulus’ pietas. The analogy with the dream vision in the Aeneid is a bit misleading because the proper parallel is not Aeneas in tears vs. Romulus dry-eyed, as the argument suggests, but rather Aeneas in tears vs. the twins’ parents in tears.Chapter 4, “Priapus Revisited,” examines book 6 as “a negative mirroring of the themes of Book 1” (125). One of its major topics is Ovid’s treatment of Vesta. Newlands examines the Priapus-Vesta episode in book 6 which is usually read as a failed and expendable doublet of Priapus-Lotis in book 1. I think she is right that each has a spot in the poem and that part of the fun of the Vesta episode is that Vesta doesn’t fit into a world where nymphs may get raped while they sleep off the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Proclus: Neo-Platonic Philosophy and Science by Lucas SiorvanesP.A. MeijerLucas Siorvanes. Proclus: Neo-Platonic Philosophy and Science. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996. Pp. xv+ 340. Cloth, $35.00.This book will be welcomed by scholars of Proclus and by readers unfamiliar with Proclus alike. There are not many introductory books on Proclus. And Siorvanes presents in an interesting way the latest developments in scholarship. [End Page 160]Siorvanes gives an account of (...) Proclus’s life and times, his position in the Athenian Neoplatonic school, and his influence and offers a panoramic view of Proclus’s philosophy in the chapters: “General Metaphysics,” “Knowledge and the levels of Being,” “Physics and Metaphysics,” and “Stars and Planets.” He presents not only Proclus’s views on physics and astronomy, but also his poetics (189).Siorvanes deals competently with Proclus’s metaphysics, analyzing it in its own right and as the indispensable background of his scientific views. His summaries are on the whole adequate and instructive. But a scheme or outline of levels of the multi-layered Proclean system of Gods (Henads), such as that offered by H. D. Saffrey and L. G. Westerink in Proclus, Théologie Platonicienne (Paris 1968) for example, would have facilitated understanding.In an impressive description of Proclus’s historical influence, Siorvanes establishes connections between Proclus’s ideas and modern views in metaphysics, mathematics, physics, logic and astronomy. Yet a warning would be appropriate in this context. There is, for instance, the strikingly modern Proclean theory that planets have satellites. Perhaps Siorvanes is too much enamoured with these modern Proclean theories. Though he recognizes that the theory about the satellites is really a consequence of Proclus’s metaphysics (268–271), he fails to emphasize that Proclus’s modern-seeming theories are no less speculative than other ancient theories. Neither Proclus’s metaphysics nor his mathematics can replace evidence as used in modern science. Thus, the rather triumphal tones Sioravanes sounds in this regard are somewhat out of place. The incidental similarities in theoretical structures and patterns that emerge in the course of history are interesting to note, but we should beware of becoming too enthusiastic about their significance. The so-called indirect influence may be due precisely to the structure of problems and the (limited) range of possible solutions.I would raise some objections to Siorvanes’s manner of translating and interpreting the Greek word for “to be” (einai) or “Being” (on). As is often done, especially in the Anglo-Saxon world, Siorvanes alternatively uses “being,” “existence” and “reality,” without being aware of the fact that in ancient philosophy the Greek words “on/ousia” (“Being”) generally do not admit of the translation “existence.” Such translations are anachronistic and wrong. “Reality” is entirely inappropriate as a translation. As an essentially medieval expression, the word “reality” (realitas) as such is nowhere to be found in antiquity. When Proclus presents his multilevel system of Being, there are no degrees of reality in the sense that one transcendent level is more real than another. There are only degrees of Being. The problematic nature of the issue stands out even more when one speaks about not being. “Being” interpreted as “reality” suggests that what is not being, has no reality. But that is not what Proclus meant to say. The translation “existence” is bound to bring about similar misunderstandings. The notion “existence” is seldom in the focus of the interest when an ancient philosopher uses “einai.” Thus, an innocent reader of Siorvanes’s book may despair when he encounters “real existence” as a translation for “ousia” (124). Do the levels of being other than the one called “ousia” exist or do they not exist? If they do not, Proclus’s entire philosophy would be incoherent, and our world would not even exist or possess “reality.” But this is not what Proclus or Siorvanes mean. To avoid misunderstandings, we should use only “Being” (and “to be”) as translations. [End Page 161]There are also problems with some aspects of Siorvanes’s description of participation. In picturing the connection of the entity that is participated (methekton), what is given to the participant (metechomenon) and the participant (metechon), the terms “predication” and... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Misquotations from RealityAnn Lauterbach (bio)In the girdle of Aphrodite, in the crown, in the body of Helen and her phantom, beauty is superimposed over necessity, cloaking it in deceit. The necessary has a certain splendor, and behind any splendor one senses a metallic coldness, as though of a weapon poised to strike. The real split in Greek consciousness, like all other irreversible steps it took, comes when Plato for (...) the first time affirms, ‘How very different is the nature of the necessary from the nature of the good.’ And he means an immense, an unbridgeable distance—the same distance that made atheists of ‘those who study astronomy and other sciences of the necessary, when they see that what is, is so out of necessity and not out of any plan conceived by some will to accomplish the good.’ The Beautiful, in this scenario, must either be quickly reabsorbed into the Good—as its agent, instrument, and pedagogue—or left up in the air, like a malignant spell (goeteuma) bewitching the mind only to subject it even more helplessly to the fiat of necessity.—Roberto Calasso, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmonyl. The Stranger’s HandOnce at the circus, when I was young we were strolling around in a throng of clowns and cotton candy, bright sun, I looked up to find that the hand I was holding was that of a stranger.Just before dawn, ejected from sleep, I am unraveled into another condition.The place between these two conditions is complex and difficult, a peculiar suspension between two exclusive frames for which there is no dialogue box. The familiar crosses into the unfamiliar and back again.What separates works of art from the fallible empirical world is not their higher degree of perfection but their ability to actualize themselves in a brilliant and expressive appearance just like fireworks. 1Fireworks! Temporality construed as ephemeral vision.And so: In every work of art something appears that does not exist. 2And so: The question of the truth of art comes into view when a non-existent is seen to rise as if it were real. In terms of its form, art promises what is not real. Objectively, it raises the claim, however obliquely this may come out, that just because something appears, it [End Page 143] must be possible to imbue it with being. The unquenchable longing excited by the beautiful is the longing for the fulfillment of a promise. 3The promise of meaning.One of my students writes, “We deem beautiful that which offers meaning to our meaningless lives.”I failed to draw a map and you followed it perfectly because the word for ‘cannot’ inscribes itself here to define an atmosphere of absolute trust which both fastens and unfastens us. 4Day unblooms into insatiable prerogatives vetoedsustained in their august sudden ramifications as if saying soEvery frame is danger and security. Poems that interest me are poems that show me how to proceed, not where to go or what to look at. They assuage the panic of the Stranger’s Hand by awakening curiosity rather than fear. The poem attests to the mobility of the frame, not to the totality of the picture.Thus the grip of realism has found a picture chosen to cover the space occupied by another picture establishing a flexibility so we are not immobile like a car that spends its night outside a window, but mobile like a spirit. 5* * * but we were not, we are not shadows; as we walk, heel and sole leave our sandal-prints in the sand, though the wounded heel treads lightly and more lightly follow, the purple sandals. 6 [End Page 144]2. The Real ThingA poet too has constantly to ask himself: “but is what I am writing really true?”—and this does not necessarily mean: “Is this how it happens in reality?” 7I do not remember when or why I became interested in looking at the ways in which notions of the truth and notions of the real had become blurred. Perhaps in the slogans of advertising. Perhaps it was the political discourse around the Vietnam... (shrink)

Introduction. The book is a study in Adam Smith's system of ideas; its aim is to reconstruct the peculiar framework that Adam Smith’s work provided for the shaping of a semi-autonomous new discipline, political economy; the approach adopted lies somewhere in-between the history of ideas and the history of economic analysis. My two claims are: i) The Wealth of Nations has a twofold structure, including a `natural history' of opulence and an `imaginary machine' of wealth. The imaginary machine is a (...) kind of Newtonian theory, whose connecting links are principles; provided either by `partial' characteristics of human nature or by analoga of physical mechanisms transferred to the social world; ii) a domain of the economic, understood as a self-standing social sub-system, was discovered first by Adam Smith. His `discovery' of the new continent of the economic was an `unintended result' of a deviation in his voyage to the never-found archipelago of natural jurisprudence. -/- 1. Imaginary machines and invisible chains: natural philosophy and method. The first chapter reconstructs Smith's views on the method in natural philosophy, presented primarily in the History of Astronomy (HA). The peculiar kind of semi-sceptical Newtonianism which permeates the essay is highlighted. Its reconstruction of the history of one natural science is shown to be based on the assumptions of Hume’s epistemology, and to lead to a self-aware deadlock. Smith's dilemma is between an essentialist realism and sceptical instrumentalism; the Cartesian presuppositions he shares with Hume and with the 18th century as a whole make it impossible for him to overcome his dilemma. The following chapters will show how, on the one hand, Smith's skeptical methodology encourages him in the enterprise to `carve off' a new self-contained discipline and how, on the other hand, his epistemological dilemma is reflected in the inner tensions of his moral and political theory as well as in a number of basic oscillations concerning the status of the new discipline. -/- 2. Chessboards and clocks: moral philosophy and method. -/- The second chapter reconstructs Smith's views on the method in the parallel field of moral philosophy, including the theory of moral sentiments and natural jurisprudence. I argue that The Theory of Moral Sentiments, when considered together with with the Lectures on Jurisprudence, where Smith's peculiar version of a `weaker' form of natural law is presented, wins special interest, not only for the history of ethics but even more for the history of political theory and the social sciences. The two most striking features of Smith's work in this area are highlighted. First, his effort at reformulating the `practical science' is a methodologically self-aware attempt at applying the Newtonian method to moral subjects. Secondly, this attempt ends in a stalemate as two distinguished kinds of normative order are introduced: one ultimate order of Reason, ultimately justifiable but inaccessible, and one weaker order of our `natural sentiments', to which we have empirical access, but which is so variable as to lack any ultimate value as a basis for grounding our normative claims. These two parallel conundrums may arguably account for the author's inability to publish during his lifetime both The History of Astronomy and the projected history and theory of law and government. -/- 3. Wheels, dams, and gravitation: the structure of scientific argument in The Wealth of Nations. -/- The third chapter provides the core of the book, dealing with the structure of the argument in WN. I argue that the main presupposition that makes the shift possible from a `natural history' to a `system' approach is the Newtonian contrast of `mathematical' with `physical' explanation; that is, Smith drops any discussion of the "original qualities" of human nature that could account for economic behaviour, while introducing, as `principles' for the system, a set of `hypothetical' statements of `observed' regularities in human behaviour and of `observed' super-individual self-regulating mechanisms. In bringing this presupposition to light, the coexistence of a teleological with a mechanistic approach is clarified; fresh light is shed on the notion of the invisible hand by a comparison of its occurrence in Smith with the occurrence of the same expression (until now overlooked) in the correspondence between Newton and Cotes. Finally, the peculiar semi-prescriptive and semi-descriptive character of political economy are highlighted, and the consistency of Smith's `impure' semi-prescriptive social science, when understood in his own terms, is defended against familiar charges with inconsistency and against even more familiar strained modernizations. -/- 4. Apples, deer, and frivolous trinkets: the construction of the economic. -/- The fourth chapter draws consequences from the third, examining how Smith's achievement in political economy, marking its transition to scientific status, carried a re-description of the phenomena, creating the comparatively independent and unified field of the economic. Smith's achievement is interpreted not as the `discovery' of an autonomous character already possessed by the economy out there, so much as a Gestalt-switch by which our perception of social phenomena is modified making us `see' the partial order of the economy as an isolated system. To sum up, the autonomy of the economic in social reality and the autonomy of the economic in social consciousness are shown to be two sides of one process. -/- 5. Concluding considerations: Political economy and the Enlightenment halved. -/- A few suggestions on the status of economic theory two centuries after The Wealth of Nations in its relationship to ‘practical philosophy’ are illustrated. (shrink)

In this paper, I argue that major elements of Hume’s metaphysics and epistemology are not only directed at the inductive argument from design which seemed to follow from the success of Newton’s system, but also have far larger aims. They are directed against the authority of Newton’s natural philosophy; the claims of natural philosophy are constrained by philosophic considerations. Once one understands this, Hume’s high ambitions for a refashioned ‘true metaphysics’ or ‘first philosophy’, that is, Hume’s ‘Science of Human Nature’, (...) can be seen and evaluated in their proper light. Hume has three motives for his attack on Newton: his work is informed by and gives cover to superstitious beliefs; his project is not useful to the public; and its success generates a challenge to the independent authority of philosophy. This essay consists of five sections. First, I discuss Hume’s attitude toward Newton. Newton claims that natural philosophy should be the foundation for other sciences, while in the ‘Introduction’ to the Treatise Hume asserts the supremacy of the ‘science of man’. For Hume the human sciences can attain the high epistemic status of ‘proof’, while much of the physical sciences must do with lower forms of ‘probability’. Furthermore, Hume’s ‘rules by which to judge of causes and effects’ do not replicate Newton’s fourth Rule; this opens a gap between the ontologies and methodologies of Newton and Hume. Moreover, Hume’s account of causation is designed to undercut the reductionist bias of natural philosophy. According to Hume the parts of natural sciences that go beyond common life can be evaluated from the point of view of the science of man. I end with remarks on the philosophic origins and significance of Hume’s attack on Newton’s natural philosophy. I depart from two independent traditions of interpreting Hume. One tradition makes many references to Newton’s influence on Hume. On a more detailed level, proponents of this view may call attention to Hume’s ‘rules’, his ‘Experiments’ and ‘Anatomy’, his method of investigation, the application of Newtonian metaphors works (e.g., an ‘attraction’ in the ‘mental world’ on a par with that in the ‘natural world’ – the principles of association are, then, analogous to the laws of motion). Hume’s ‘science of man’ is said to be inspired by Newton’s science of nature. Hume wants his readers to feel that he is modeling his project on the successes of natural philosophy, exemplified by Newton. In the ‘Introduction’ to the Treatise and more explicitly in the opening pages of EHU, Hume suggests that his ‘science of man’ can parallel recent achievements in natural philosophy (especially planetary astronomy). Thus, my claim is not that Newton did not figure importantly in Hume’s philosophy, but, instead, that Hume’s project is in many respects more hostile to Newton’s achievements – as available to well-informed eighteenth-century readers – than many recent interpreters have realized. There is a different tradition that argues Hume simply did not understand Newton. Hume’s philosophy, thus, cannot do justice to Newtonian science. Hume’s lack of mathematical competence is said to be a barrier to his understanding of Newton’s mathematical natural philosophy. One finds this attitude behind the cranking of Bayesian machinery in John Earman’s attack on Hume’s treatment ‘Of Miracles’. However, this tradition begs the question; it takes the authority of ‘science’ for granted in Hume. Against this second tradition I argue that Hume did understand salient features of Newton’s methodology and position, although in ways often unappreciated by the first tradition mentioned above. For example, in his comments on Newton in the History of England, Hume discerns the (broad) outlines of Newton’s commitment to the method of analysis and synthesis (see Newton’s Opticks, Query 31) and how it differs from Boyle’s methodology. So, Hume has a subtle understanding of Newton’s methodology – even if one were to grant that he lacks appreciation of the role of mathematics in Newton’s natural philosophy. Leaving open the question whether Hume understood all the details of Newton’s system, Hume’s departures from Newton are best interpreted not as ‘ironic’, but as philosophically motivated. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 41.2 (2003) 277-278 [Access article in PDF] John Hedley Brooke, Margaret J. Osler, and Jitse M. van der Meer, editors. Science in Theistic Contexts: Cognitive Dimensions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press Journals Division, 2001. Pp. xiii + 376. Cloth, $39.00. Paper, $25.00. Some twenty years ago, when I submitted a dissertation proposal to explore connections between theologies of creation and views of scientific (...) knowledge in the seventeenth century, my doctoral committee was not initially enthusiastic—my idea might make a good dissertation in religion, but was it really history of science? I doubt I would have a similar experience today. Not only has the "warfare" thesis of science and religion been laid permanently to rest, historians have begun seriously to question whether it makes sense even to treat "religion" and "science" in an essentialist manner as separate ways of thinking that do not ordinarily interact. Many detailed case studies demonstrating a variety of fascinating, often important connections between science and religion have appeared from leading scholars in the past two decades. This trend continues in the latest volume of Osiris, which contains sixteen essays documenting various ways in which religious beliefs have influenced the actual content and presentation of science.The volume opens with two companion essays laying out the terrain. First, Brooke engages the new methodological and conceptual problems that confront historians following the demise of the "warfare" thesis. Then Stephen Wykstra offers criteria for sorting out the various roles for metaphysical and religious beliefs (which he distinguishes) in shaping scientific knowledge. The case studies begin with E. Jamil Ragep's essay on medieval Islamic astronomy, arguing that religion sometimes had a constructive role—a rather novel claim for Islamic science, he points out. Noah J. Efron and Menachem Fisch show how early modern Jewish exegetical practices influenced David b. Solomon Gans's interpretations of astronomical texts, and quite possibly his interpretation of nature also. A Christian astronomer is next, as Peter Barker and Bernard R. Goldstein detail how Johannes Kepler's theology contributed directly to the discovery of scientific laws. Maurice A. Finnocchiaro then reviews various accounts of the Galileo affair, finding far more conflict in the subsequent historiography of the events than in the trial itself.Moving from astronomy to natural philosophy, Margaret G. Cook's essay on Robert Boyle examines the web of connections between theology, the mechanical philosophy, and [End Page 277] "the Aristotelian philosophy that he sought to replace." She demonstrates that Boyle used the classical art/nature distinction "to interpret the biblical account of the Creation and to argue that chemical techniques offered experimental confirmation that the world, created by art, worked by the same mechanical principles as artificial objects, not by the inherent agency of Aristotelian nature" (136). Margaret J. Osler also writes about Boyle. Contrary to the traditional view that final causes were expunged from science by the mechanical philosophy—a view that originated in the "positivism and scientific optimism" of the postwar period (168)—she proves that final causality remained central to the thought of Boyle and Pierre Gassendi. The essay by Stephen D. Snobelen presents substantial evidence that the famous General Scholium, appended to the second edition of Isaac Newton's Principia, was a carefully worded declaration of Newton's heterodox theology. "A Trinitarian," Snobelen concludes, "could not have written the General Scholium" (186). He also shows the degree to which Newton's theology shaped his overall natural philosophy, decisively debunking the late Richard S. Westfall's view that such influences could not be found.The final seven essays are mainly devoted to nineteenth-century science. Michael J. Crowe documents several ways in which Christian beliefs about divine goodness and the Incarnation affected astronomy. Martin Fichman shows how Alfred Russel Wallace's theism—not merely a vague spiritualism, as traditional accounts claim—"shaped the cognitive content of his mature evolutionary synthesis, which included a theoretical reconceptualization of the scope of natural selection" (227). In a revisionist account of Charles Darwin's philosophy of "nature," Phillip R. Sloan challenges the received view that... (shrink)

The main theory at the core of this monograph is that the person is an entity ontologically new, since she is able to perform an act of self-transcendence, which is meant as her critical distancing from her own “self”, understood as subject of social recognition (Anerkennung), in order to open to the encounter with the world (Weltoffenheit). This allows us to consider a person in a new way, different both from confessional interpretations that see her only as a center (...) of the spirit and from reductivistic views. Schelling examines the act of self-transcendence through the concept of ecstasy, whereas Scheler associates it with the phenomenological reduction. The act of self-transcendence, that Schelling sees as originated by the “hunger of being”, is at the roots of the formation process of a person (Bildung): the person takes her shape by exiting from her own self-referential dimension and encountering otherness. If considered from this viewpoint, Plato’s “epimeleia heautou” exceeds an intimistic perspective: the “care” is no more a solipsistic self-care, but rather becomes the care through which the person transcends her own self to open to the relationships with otherness. It turns, therefore, into a care for world-openness (care for Weltoffenheit). The transformation of the individual and of society so becomes the double-faced aspect of the same process. The development of this set of problems occurs through a dialogue with Schelling’s and Scheler’s positions, but it is also supported by a historical-philosophical investigation, that for instance provides evidence of the influences of Schelling’s Berlin period on Scheler’s last theories and on the philosophical anthropology of the 20th century. Schelling was the first to conceive the concept of “eccentricity” in an anthropological sense, since until then the term had been confined to Kepler’s astronomy. Consequently, the planets’ elliptic (eccentric) movement heightens to an emblematic metaphor of human nature and freedom. The monograph also examines a possible convergence between Plato’s epimeleia heautou and Scheler’s phenomenological reduction. The book ends with a chapter on the topic of Vorbild. The exemplary testimony, that is Vorbild, becomes witnessing evidence immune from any pedagogical-moralistic intent: in fact, if it should relapse into the rhetoric of the “wish to give a good example”, it would immediately conform to the opposite logic of the model. A model is universal in so far as it makes everyone more like the others, nullifying the diversity, whereas exemplariness is universal in so far as it makes everyone more unique and motivates each one to follow her own characteristic path of existential trans-formation. Exemplarity doesn’t convey any contents, but rather encourages a kind of solidaristic involvement. Yet there are also negative exemplarities (Gegenbild) that place obstacles in the formation and block the existence of the personal center. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:DOES SCIENCE SAY THAT HUMAN EXISTENCE IS POINTLESS? ROBERT M. AUGROS St. Anselm College Manchester, New Hampshire I N AN ARTICLE published by Marine Biological Laboratory, historian of science William Provine claims that contemporary science imposes on us the view that human existence is meaningless: "Modern science directly implies that the world is organized strictly in accordance with mechanistic principles. There are no purposive principles whatsoever in nature. (...) There are no gods and no designing forces that are rationally detectable.... Modern science directly implies that there are no inherent moral or ethical laws, no absolute guiding principles for human society.... When I die I shall rot and that is the end of me. There is no hope of life everlasting.... Free will as it is traditionally conceived, the freedom to make uncoerced unpredictable choices among alternative possible courses of action, simply does not exist.... There is no ultimate meaning for humans."1 Provine's position can be reduced to five denials: no purposefulness in nature, no God, no ethical principles, no immortality, no free will. Are these denials scientific as Provine contends? No one would maintain that they are scientific in the sense of being proven. No experimental science claims to prove any of them. One occasionally finds one of the five denials, simply asserted without evidence, in the introduction to a textbook or in the popular writings of a scientist, but no scientific proofs are ever offered. Provine himself, in the article proclaiming these denials, neither offers nor refers to any such proofs. He seems to 1 William Provine, "Evolution and The Foundation of Ethics," MBL Science 3 (1988): 27-28. 577 578 ROBERT M. AUGROS concede that there are none when he says "modern science directly implies," not proves. If the five denials are not scientific in the sense of being proven, perhaps they are nevertheless indispensable as background assumptions to make the scientific method work properly. Must the working scientist adopt Provine's five denials to make discoveries or to explain phenomena? The founders of modern science did not think so, and did not assume the five denials in their work. On the contrary, they integrated into their scientific work the existence of God, purpose in the universe, free choice, the immortality of the human soul, and the reality of ethics. For instance, Copernicus argued that the cosmos must be harmonious because' it is made by the "best and most orderly Workman of all."2 By explicitly following the principle that nature is purposeful, William Harvey discovered the circulation of blood.3 Seventeenth-century chemist Robert Boyle wrote: "When I consider the rational soul as an immaterial and immortal being, that bears the image of its divine maker, being endowed with a capacious intellect, and a will, that no creature can force: I am by these considerations disposed to think the soul of man a nobler and more valuable being, than the whole corporeal world."4 It was the passion of Kepler's life to investigate the deeper harmonies of the heavens, for, in his words, the "fuller knowledge of God through nature."5 "Galileo never thought of denying an ultimately religious answer to the problems of the universe," writes E. A. Burtt.6 Galileo repudiated Aristotle's physics but praised and extolled his ethics. Isaac Newton con2 Nicolaus Copernicus, On the Revolutions ofthe HemJenly Spheres, trans. Charles Glenn Wallis, vol. 16 of Great Books of the Western World (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, 1952), 508. 3 William Harvey, "An Anatomical Disquisition on the Motion of the Heart and Blood in Animals," vol. 26 of Great Books of the Western World, ed. Philip Goetz (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, 1990), 285. 4 Robert Boyle, The Works of the Honourable Robert Boyle, ed. Thomas Birch (London, 1672) vol. 4, 19. sJoannis Kepleri Astronomi Opera Omnia, ed. Ch. Frisch (Frankfurt and Erlangen, 1858), vol. 8, 688. 6 Edwin Arthur Burtt, The Metaphysical Foundations of Modern Physical Science (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1950), 93. IS HUMAN EXISTENCE POINTLESS? 579 sidered his Principia to be one great proof for the existence of God whom he describes in his famous General Scholium as living, intelligent, perfect, eternal, omniscient, and omnipresent.7 If the founding fathers of modern... (shrink)

Iberian repertorios de los tiempos stemmed from Medieval almanacs and calendars. During the sixteenth century significant editorial, conceptual and material changes in repertorios incorporated astronomy, geography, chronology and natural philosophy. From De Li’s Repertorio (1492) to Zamorano’s Cronología (1585), the genre evolved from simple almanacs to more complex cosmological works which circulated throughout the Iberian-American world. This article claims that repertorios are a form of syncretic knowledge rather than “popular science” by relying on the concept of “knowledge in (...) transit”. Elaborating on this perspective, I present how repertorios ended up delivering a worldview from existing materials, a fact so far unnoticed by scholarship. At the same time, repertorios should not be considered an exclusively Iberian phenomenon, but the full scope of their nature as a form of syncretic knowledge should include their networks with migrants, indigenous, mestizos, and criollos across the Atlantic. In this sense, I try to trace the paths connecting productions in the Americas with Iberian repertorios. (shrink)