## 1. Life and Writings




It is not known exactly when Henry was born; his date of birth is
usually placed before 1240, perhaps between 1217 and 1223, though
without any concrete evidence. Information about his career is also
scarce. He was in Paris in 1265; from 1267 he begins to appear in the
documents as *magister*, as well as canon of Tournai, though
nothing is known of his presumed teaching activity at the Faculty of
Arts. From 1276, the year in which he disputed his first
*Quodlibet*, until his death, Henry was Regent Master at the
Faculty of Theology. Manuscript copies of his second
*Quodlibet*, datable to 1277, indicate that he was archdeacon of
Brugge (Bruges). From 1279 he was archdeacon of Tournai (Doornik). His name was recorded
in the death register of Tournai cathedral on 23 June 1293.




During his university career in Paris Henry was personally involved in
almost all of the most important events in university and
ecclesiastical life. In 1277 he was a member of the commission of
theologians set up by Bishop Tempier in order to censure propositions
considered erroneous that were being taught at the Faculty of Arts and
that would be condemned on 7 March of the same year (Wielockx
2011). Nevertheless, not only did Henry affirm on several occasions
that he neither understood nor approved of the condemnation of certain
articles, but he himself was pressured by Tempier and the papal legate
Simone di Brion to distance himself from the theory of the unicity of
substantial form in man (see below, SS11).




From 1281, the year of the publication of the papal bull *Ad
fructus uberes* issued by Pope Martin IV, Henry represented the
main theological reference point for the faction of prelates (secular
clergy) in the clash with the regulars of the Mendicant Orders over the
question of the reiteration of confession; in other words, in the
prelates' interpretation, over the obligation for all believers
to confess to their parish priest, at least once a year, sins already
confessed to a friar. Henry would be engaged in this violent
controversy for the rest of his life and it seems that he was even
temporarily suspended from teaching for not having heeded the papal
legates' warning not to hold disputes on the interpretation of
privileges granted by the pope.




The last great secular master in Paris in the second half of the
13th century (together with Godfrey of Fontaines), Henry is
author of a monumental, though incomplete, *Summa* (the part
*De creaturis* is missing altogether, even though it was part
of the work's overall plan), 15 *Quodlibeta*, disputed and
published while writing the *Summa* (Gomez Caffarena
1957) a short commentary on the *Book of Genesis* (*Lectura
ordinaria super sacram Scripturam*), a lengthy treatise on the
question of the privileges of Confession (*Tractatus super factum
praelatorum et fratrum*), as well as sermons (on Hernry's written
legacy see Wilson 2011b). However, his not strictly theological
production is of uncertain attribution: probably authentic are a
treatise on the *Syncategoremata* (ms. Brugge, Stadsbibl.,
510, ff. 227ra-237va) and a commentary in question form on
the *Physics* (ms. Erfurt, Amplon. F. 349), while there is more
doubt concerning an incomplete commentary, again in question form, on
the *Metaphysics* (ms. Escorial, h.II.1; different arguments
are presented in Porro 2002a and Pickave 2007).


## 2. Knowledge and Truth




Rather unusual in scholastic production, the *Summa* by Henry
does not open with a direct treatment of God, but with a lengthy
analysis of the problem of human knowledge, beginning with the
sceptic's question *par excellence*: can man know anything
at all (art. 1, q. 1)? Henry refuses to pursue in depth
Augustine's radical theory in q. 9 of *De diversis
quaestionibus 83* that we should not expect *sincera
veritas* from the senses. As generally agreed after the rediscovery
of Aristotle's works by the Latin West, since all knowledge
originates in the senses, denying any value whatsoever to sensation
would mean denying all possibility of knowledge in general. Taking
knowledge (*scire*: to know) in its most generic sense, for
Henry it is undeniable that man knows something; Augustine's
reservations should be taken to refer to those who claim that judgment
is co-extensive with sensation. If we distinguish sensorial
apprehension from the intellect's judgment of it, then it is
perfectly legitimate to expect truth (or a certain kind of truth) from
the senses.




The next question of the same article (q. 2) poses the same initial
problem in a more round-about way: can man know anything without divine
intervention? Along traditional Augustinian lines, the reply should be
negative, since all true knowledge can only come from divine
illumination. But a unilateral solution of this type represents for
Henry a serious attack on the dignity of the rational soul. The
essential operation of the soul is constituted by knowledge; therefore
if knowledge were not already included, at least partially, in its
natural possibilities, the soul would paradoxically find itself
constituted for an aim that it could never achieve. Moreover, since the
senses provide true material, the intellect is certainly able to search
for truth: "absolute ergo concedere oportet quod homo per suam
animam absque omni speciali divina illustratione potest aliqua
cognoscere, et hoc ex puris naturalibus." ("One must
therefore concede, in an absolute sense, that through his soul man can
know something without any special divine illumination, on the basis of
what is purely natural"; *Summa*, art. 1, q. 2, ed.
Wilson, p. 35, ll. 118-120).




However, the above concerns knowledge in general, *scire* in
the broadest sense. Moving on to knowledge in the strict sense,
*proprie scire* or *certitudinaliter scire*, things get
more complicated. As in Augustine's *Soliloquia*, it is
important to distinguish between what is true and truth itself.
Sensation only grasps *id quod verum est* ("what is
true," and something is true in that it is a being on the basis
of the simple conversion of transcendentals). Knowledge of the truth
implies something more; it implies the knowledge of the nature --
the essence -- of a thing, a knowledge that can only be obtained
by comparing the *res* to its *exemplar* ("intentio
enim veritatis in re apprehendi non potest nisi apprehendendo
conformitatem eius ad suum exemplar" -- "the intention
of truth in a thing cannot be apprehended without apprehending its
conformity to its exemplar").




Here it is important to distinguish further, since the
*exemplar* is a double one. In the first place, the
*exemplar* is the universal *species* of the object that
the mind obtains by abstraction, on the basis of sensible data. In this
case, the truth of the *res* is the conformity between the
really existing thing and its mental representation; this conformity
can only be grasped by the dividing and composing intellect, in the
classic Aristotelian and Thomist formula, and not by the *simplex
intelligentia*. In the second place, the *exemplar* is the
ideal form present in the divine mind that acts as the formal cause of
creatural essences, and from this perspective the *veritas* of
the *res* is its ontological conformity (Anselm's
*rectitudo*) to its eternal model. This double relation
(*res-mens*, *res-exemplar aeternum*) thereby produces a
double truth, or two different levels of truth: on the one hand, the
*veritas* of Aristotelian science, deriving from the purely
natural faculties, through an abstracting process, and on the other,
the *sincera veritas*, obtained only through divine illumination
-- in other words, by an act of God, not as *obiectum
cognitum* (known object) but as *ratio cognoscendi* (cause
or reason of knowledge).




The first truth does not have the same infallibility, purity and
absolute certainty as the second; nevertheless, it is still a form of
*veritas*, no matter how "imperfecta, obscura et
nebulosa" ("imperfect, obscure and uncertain").
Indeed, it is a form that is absolutely necessary for the fulfilment of
the second: the action of the divine *exemplar* can only work on
a concept already obtained by the intellect through abstraction. For
Henry, divine illumination does not directly provide the mind with any
content, but rather certifies definitively (with the typical
Augustinian image of the seal) the representation of a thing present in
the human intellect, as coinciding with the representation existing
*ab aeterno* in the divine intellect.




In this way, Henry creates a unique blend of Aristotle's
theory of abstraction and Augustine's doctrine of divine
illumination. Truth is the result of the comparison between two
exemplars: the Aristotelian universal obtained by abstraction from
sensible data, and the archetype present in the divine mind, which is
not only the cause of the existence of things, but also their epistemic
guarantee, so to speak. The action of divine illumination is therefore
neither a direct donation of intelligible contents, independent of the
conditions of sensible knowledge, nor is it a simple purification,
preparation or refinement of the mind in order to predispose it to
intellectual knowledge. Rather, it is the certification of our created
*exemplar* by the uncreated one; in other words, by divine art
(*ars*).




Over the years, however, Henry seems gradually to abandon this
theory of the double *exemplar* in order to make room, on the
one hand, for a reworking of the defining process of essences through
their progressive determination, as described by Aristotle in the
*Posterior Analytics* (Marrone 1985, 2001 and 2011), and on the other,
for a reinterpretation of illumination as the constant presence in act,
albeit in a recess of the mind (*abditum mentis*), of the image
of God (*Quodl.* IX, q. 15). Concerning the first aspect, it is
worth noting that in the *Summa* articles dedicated to the
knowableness of God, an exact epistemological process is described,
according to the scheme of the *Posterior Analytics*, that
begins with the pure acquisition of the name of a thing, proceeds to
the ascertainment of its essential being (the fact that a given thing
is possible and not a mere figment), and arrives at knowledge of a
*res* in itself through its definition and the successive
determination of its other essential features and properties by means
of an operation of the composing and dividing intellect. Concerning the
second aspect, this theme would find an indirect echo in the doctrine
of the ground of the soul elaborated by Dietrich of Freiberg and
Meister Eckhart. This presence, to which the mind is constantly
directed without any mediation, albeit through an operation of which we
are almost always unaware (*intelligere abditum*), is for Henry
what directs the mind itself to all authentic knowledge (Emery
2001).




In this evolution, particularly important is the partial rejection
of the function of intelligible species (for example, in
*Quodl.* III, q. 1 and *Quodl.* IV, q. 7), which
anticipates the similar Nominalist solution by a couple of decades at
least. More precisely, for Henry, the phantasm itself is made
immaterial by the abstraction of the agent intellect and imprints
itself on the possible intellect, without the mediation of the
intelligible species. In other words, on the basis of the principle of
economy, there is no need to have an intelligible species that is
numerically distinct from the phantasm itself, as in Aquinas'
standard doctrine. The particular phantasm is made a universal
phantasm by means of abstraction, and just as the universal cannot
really be distinguished from particular things, so the universal
phantasm cannot really be distinguished from the particular. The
phantasm is therefore the efficient cause of intellectual knowledge, or
better, of the first operation of the intellect (that of simple
understanding).




Henry does not eliminate sensible species, however, nor does he
eliminate all types of representation in the sphere of intellectual
activity. Indeed, after the phantasms are impressed on the possible or
potential intellect, making simple understanding possible, the
intellect then forms complex judgments and produces its own species, or
*verbum* (mental word), as a result of this activity. Even when
Henry expounds the theory of the double *exemplar*, he always
maintains that the divine *exemplar* acts on the *verbum*
already formed by the intellect at the first level of knowledge,
refining and transforming it into a second, more perfect,
*verbum* that can represent the truth at the level of
*sincera veritas* (Goehring 2011). This clearly differentiates Henry from
anti-representationalists like Olivi and Ockham in his later phase,
even though Henry remains one of the first
authoritative masters to eliminate the mediation of intelligible
species explicitly on the basis of the principle of economy (as is made
further evident by the reactions of his contemporaries and the masters
of the next generation).


## 3. Being and Thing




For Henry (as for Avicenna) every *res* possesses its own
"certitude" (*certitudo*) that makes it what it is.
*Certitudo* here means stability, consistency, and ontological
self-identity: a triangle is a triangle and nothing else, white is
white and nothing else. *Certitudo* thus expresses the objective
content by which every thing is identical to itself and is
distinguished from other things; in other words, *certitudo*
expresses the essence or *quidditas* of a thing
("unaquaeque res habet certitudinem propriam quae est eius
quidditas" -- "every thing possesses its own
certitude, which is its essence"). This content can be considered
in itself, as independent from its physical or mental existence. In an
absolute sense, every essence possesses a double indifference: with
regard to actual existence or non-existence (essence in itself is
simply possible), and with regard to universality and particularity.
These last two aspects are really conjoined. Essence is particular in
that it receives its subsistence in a given *suppositum*
(concrete individual entity) from something-other-than-itself, while it
is universal in that it is abstracted by the intellect from these
singular *supposita*, in which it exists as one in many, in
order to become predicable by many.




Yet in itself essence is just essence: "essentia est essentia
tantum". Even though for both Avicenna and Henry thing
(*res*) and being (*ens*) are primary notions (or rather
intentions -- *intentiones* -- the sense of which we
shall soon clarify), *intentio de re* seems to have a certain
precedence over *intentio de esse*, at least logically, in
virtue of its double indifference. Nevertheless, the latter is
concomitant with the former, since every *res* only exists in
physical reality or in the mind. Possessing an absolute concept
doesn't mean possessing an absolute, separate existence. More
simply, through such a concept, a thing can be considered, leaving
aside all that does not form part of its essential content and that
therefore constitutes an additional determination. For instance,
physical or mental existence, particularity or universality, do not
form part of "horseness" as such. Yet for this very reason
"horseness" as such does not exist; instead what exists are
horses as individual *supposita* and the universal concept of
"horse", which the mind obtains by abstraction from them.
That which possesses an absolute concept can exist in act only through
one of its additional dispositions, with respect to which it is
nevertheless indifferent (Porro 1996, 2002b).




Indifference only concerns the way in which a thing can be
considered. In reality, no essence is indifferent to the point of being
equally disposed toward being and non-being. The effective indifference
of essences must therefore be taken in a narrower sense (than in
Avicenna too): every creatural essence tends naturally toward non-being
(in Avicennian terms, no possible essence, in the absence of a cause
for its existence, could exist), though this inclination can be
reversed by an external cause. No essence of a thing is so rigidly
oriented toward nothing that it cannot receive being-in-act through a
divine action. Similarly, even when placed, in act no thing ever
possesses its being in an ultimate way: if God were to withdraw His
support, it would fall into non-being. Indifference as absolute
neutrality is therefore only the result of an intentional analysis. In
reality, every thing is always either in non-being or in being, and not
in the same way, since the first of these conditions is co-extensive
with the thing itself, the second depends on God.




We still need to clarify in what sense existence can be said to be
concomitant with essence. Being has access to essence from the outside,
in the sense that it does not strictly belong to the essential nature
of a *res*, except in the case of God. If this were not the
case, a thing (every thing) would not simply be *possible* in
itself, but *necesse esse* (necessary being) on a par with God.
Instead, being seems to be an accident, or rather it has almost the
mode of an accident (*Quodl*. I, q. 9). Nevertheless, it is not
an accident in the real sense, since it is not added to something
pre-existing, but is rather *that by virtue of which* a thing
exists. In other words, we cannot refer here to the Aristotelian
definition of accident (that which has its being in another thing or
inheres in a subject), but once again to the broader definition given
by Avicenna, according to which anything that belongs to a thing, being
external to the intention of its essence, can be called an accident
("Sed intelligendum quod 'accidens' accipitur hic
largissime, secundum quod iuxta modum loquendi Avicennae
'accidens' rei appellatur omne quod convenit ei et est
extra intentionem suae essentiae"; *Quodl.* II, q. 8, ed.
Wielockx, p. 48, ll. 21-23). In this sense an accident is anything that
is external to the *intentio* of a *res* as absolute
essence, without ever being really distinct from it. With regard to
essence, actual being (that is, *ratio suppositi*) represents an
accident of this type. Being is therefore an *intentio* that
occurs to essence without adding anything real, and so it differs from
essence only intentionally.


## 4. The Intentional Distinction




The term *intentio* must not be taken in the narrow sense
with which, for example, one speaks of *intentiones secundae* as
*nomina nominum* (individual, genus, species, difference,
property, accident, etc.), but rather as a 'note' (feature,
trait) of the essential content of a *res*, which does not
differ from it in any real sense, nor from its other identifiable
'notes', yet can nevertheless be expressed by an
independent concept ("appellatur hic intentio aliquid pertinens
realiter ad simplicitatem essentiae alicuius, natum praecise concipi
absque aliquo alio a quo non differt re absoluta, quod similiter
pertinet ad eandem."; *Quodl.* V, q. 6, ed. 1518, f.
161rL). *Intentio* is thus the fruit of an operation of the
intellect, which delves inside (for Henry *intentio* comes from
*intus tentio*) the thing to which the intention itself belongs,
by considering its constitutive 'notes' and giving rise to
different concepts. It can also be said that intentions really exist in
a *res*, but only potentially, whereas their distinction is an
operation of the intellect alone.




While two distinct things differ in a real sense, all that gives
rise to different concepts, albeit founded in the same simple thing,
differs intentionally ("diversa intentione sunt quae fundata in
simplicitate eisudem rei diversos de se formant conceptus.";
*Quodl.* V, q. 12, ed. 1518, f. 171rT). In an intentional
distinction, in other words, the very same thing is expressed by
different concepts in different ways. From this perspective, an
intentional distinction seems akin to a purely logical (or reasoned)
distinction, to the point that the two are often confused
("frequenter intentio ratio appellatur."; *Quodl.*
V, q. 12, ed. 1518, f. 171rV). Nevertheless, in the first case, one of
the concepts excludes the other (one can be thought of separately, in
the absence of the other), whereas in the case of a distinction based
on reason the various concepts are perfectly compatible ("in
diversis secundum intentionem unus conceptus secundum unum modum
excludit alium secundum alium modum, non sic autem differentia sola
ratione."; *Quodl.* V, q. 12, ed. 1518, f. 171rV). As
Henry explicitly states, this means that everything that differs in
intention differs in reason too, but not vice versa. Unlike a purely
logical distinction, an intentional distinction always implies a form
of composition, even though this is minor with regard to that implied
by a real difference.




The clearest examples of this are found in *Quodl.* X, q. 7,
where Henry responds rather sharply to the perplexities raised by Giles
of Rome over the concept itself of intentional distinction.
"Man" and "rational animal" -- the defined
and the definition -- differ only in terms of reason, whereas
"white" and "rational" differ in a real sense,
since it is a matter of different natures and not of concepts or
intentions founded in the same *res*. Yet how should we consider
the difference between "rational" and "animal"?
This is not a distinction of reason, since the two terms are not in a
relation of definition to defined, nor is it a real distinction, such
as that between substance and accident, since, if this were the case,
the species formed by the conjunction of "animal" and
"rational" would not be a single one in itself, but only
*per accidens*. Therefore we can only appeal to an intermediate
distinction, which is precisely that which Henry defines as
intentional.




For Henry there are two levels of intentional distinction: a major
and a minor. In the major none of the intentions includes the other or
others, even though they are all part of the same thing, and it has two
modes: the distinction between the differences in man (rational,
sensible, vegetative and so on) and the distinction between genus and
specific difference (animal and rational). In the minor the concept of
one intention includes the other but not vice versa. And here Henry
lists four modes: the distinction between species and genus; the
distinction between living and being in creatures; the distinction
between a *suppositum* and its nature or essence; and the
distinction between a *respectus* (relation) and the essence on
which it is founded (Macken 1981). The distinction between being and
essence belongs to the last mode. Since being is not a real accident
inhering in a subject, it makes no sense to speak of a real
distinction. Instead, the distinction depends on the fact that the
intellect uses different concepts to indicate the being of a thing, on
the one hand, and that which a thing is, on the other. Nevertheless,
since essence can be thought of independently from its being, and being
is not part of its content, we cannot refer here to a distinction based
on reason alone. In other words, whereas the concept of actual
existence always includes the concept of essence, the contrary is not
true, since essence can be thought of without its being (as affirmed by
Avicenna). Being and essence are therefore different intentions, not
different things (as instead was maintained by Giles of Rome in his
long dispute with Henry). This intentional distinction is in itself
sufficient to refute the conclusion that every essence is its
being.


## 5. Subjective Possibility and Objective Possibility




How does this conclusion accord with Avicenna's theory that
*intentio de re* precedes *intentio de esse*? Essence
exists in the measure in which it participates in divine being. There
are nevertheless two possible interpretations of the concept of
participation. In the first, essence is a kind of potential substratum
that is filled by existence at the moment of its actualization. In this
sense, essence would be in potency to being as matter is to form.
However, as Henry often stresses in his debate with Giles, this is a
"far-fetched image" (*phantastica imaginatio*),
since likening physical generation to creation seriously compromises
the idea of creation from nothing. In generation, form is not educed
from nothing, but from pre-existing matter. Similarly, if essence were
a potential substratum, being would not be created from nothing, but
from essence itself. The second interpretation makes essence the object
(that is, the term or result), not the subject of creation: essence is
constituted as such in virtue of its relation of participation with the
Creator.




Henry here adduces one of the most characteristic and original
aspects of his metaphysical system: the distinction between
*potentia subiective* and *potentia obiective* (Hodl
1963, Porro 1996). Something can be in potency with regard to a given
act, either as the subject (*subiectum*) from which something
else can or must be produced (as in the case of matter with regard to
form), or as the object (*obiectum*) that constitutes the result
itself of production (as in the case of generation, the form, or more
precisely, the combination of matter and form). In the first case, the
agent intervenes, impressing itself, or something else (as form), on
the already available potential substratum. In the second case, there
is no effective potency with regard to the acquisition of another form,
but only with regard to the agent. Hence, essence is placed in act
through creation, not because a form educed from its potency is
impressed on it, but because it constitutes the result itself of the
agent's action. Essence is not in potency in relation to being,
but in relation to itself, as a totality constituted in being.




Nevertheless, this theory raises a problem. In every transmutation,
what changes cannot strictly coincide with the terms themselves of the
change. If essence is *possibile esse* and *non esse*,
and passes from non-being to being through creation, it must be
different both from non-being (the state before creation) as well as
from being (the state after creation). If, on the other hand, essence
were identical to one of the two terms (being, in the case in
question), then there would be no change, since essence would never be
in non-being. To obviate this problem, Henry seeks to refine further,
especially in his later *Quodlibeta*, the distinction between
*possibile subiective* and *possibile obiective*, so
that, within certain limits (that is, from a logical rather than from
an ontological perspective), essence can figure as the
*subiectum*, and not just the *terminus*, of creation. Even
though the passage of essence from non-being to being happens in a
single, indivisible instant, it can nevertheless be subdivided
logically (*secundum rationem*) into three different
"signs" (*signa*); an *ante litteram* example
of the theoretical model defined by Kretzmann and Spade as
"Quasi-Aristotelianism", especially in reference to
14th century writers such as Landolph Caracciolo and John of
Baconthorpe (Kretzmann 1982, Spade 1982). In the first *signum*,
essence loses its non-being; in the second, essence occupies an
intermediate position between the non-being it is abandoning and the
being it is acquiring, and in this sense it is the *subiectum*
of the transmutation; finally, in the third, essence has acquired its
being, and as such it is the *terminus* of the change
(*Summa*, art. 59, q. 2, ed. 1520, f. 138vR).


## 6. Essential Being (*esse essentiae*)




The above concerns the acquisition of existence, or actual being.
Yet independently of existence, and preceding it, essence is already
constituted as such in its specific being: the *esse proprium*
that Avicenna attributes to a *res* in virtue of its
*certitudo*. It is well-known that Henry refers to this being as
*esse essentiae*. Despite the ultra-essentialist interpretation
of Henry's metaphysics that began with Suarez, the
syntagma *esse essentiae* does not designate a separate being,
but only the fact that a *res* thus constituted has an objective
content and so is objectively possible; that is, it can be placed in
act by God. Indeed, not every *res* conceivable by the human
intellect corresponds to a nature that can be actualized. The being of
essence thus coincides with the possibility, or the ability, to receive
actual existence that a purely imagined *res* does not have. In
other words, *esse essentiae* is what separates a mere figment
from a *res* proper, an essence, or to use Avicenna's
terminology, a "nature".




Henry here introduces his well-known distinction between *res a
reor reris* and *res a ratitudine* (cf. above all
*Summa*, art. 21, q. 4; art. 24, q. 3; Porro 2011). In the first case, a
thing is considered in its purely nominal conception, to which a
reality, outside a purely mental one, need not correspond
(*reor* is here synonymous with *opinor --* to
imagine, to suppose). As such, a *res a reor reris* is in itself
indifferent to both being (*essentiae* and *existentiae*)
and non-being: to cite the most common example, a *res a reor
reris* can be a mythical animal such as a *hircocervus* or
*tragelaphus* (goat-stag). In the second case, a thing is
"certified" (*rata*) by the fact that it possesses
at least the being of an essence. If the nothing that stands in
opposition to a *res a reor reris* cannot even be conceived, the
nothing that stands in opposition to a *res a ratitudine* is not
the lack of actual being, hence non-existence in the physical world,
but rather the lack of formal constitution: the fact that a thing can
be conceived (for example, a chimera or a mountain of gold) without in
reality being "certified" as a determined essence. But
whence does the being of an essence come? Every essence is what it is
in reason of its nature ("Est autem id quod est essentia in
unaquaque re communiter loquendo id quod ei convenit ratione naturae
suae secundum se."; *Quodl*. X, q. 8, ed. Macken, p. 201,
ll. 85-87). A stone is a stone because of its own nature, and the same
is true for a triangle. Formally, every essence is therefore what it
is, in and of itself, albeit through participation
(*participative*), since the very fact of being an essence,
content aside, is dependent on God.




Essence is therefore not strictly an "effect" or
"product" of God, and yet it is constituted only through a
relation of participation in, or imitation of, the divine essence. More
precisely, *esse essentiae* belongs to essence because of its
eternal relation with God as formal cause. It is only in virtue of this
relation that essences can also come into actual existence, which
signals a new relation between a creature and God, the latter now as
efficient cause. In the first case, essences depend on the divine
intellect, in the second, on the divine will. Being therefore always
indicates a relation in creatures, which is simple for essences in
themselves (*esse essentiae*), and twofold for actualized
essences (*esse essentiae* plus *esse existentiae*).
Nevertheless the two types of relation are not perfectly symmetrical.
In the first place, while essence can be conceived independently of its
existence in the physical world, it cannot be conceived independently
of its being-essence, otherwise it would be a mere figment.
Consequently, the relation that forges *esse existentiae* is in
some way accidental, whereas that which forges *esse essentiae*
is essential. In the second place, since God chooses, from all the
essences eternally constituted as such by His intellect, those that He
will actualize over time, on the basis of His free will, one
*respectus* is such from eternity, while the other takes place
in time.




Since that which essence is depends on essence itself, while the
fact of being an essence derives from a formal dependence
(*similitudo*) on God, it follows that within essence itself
there is a composition prior to the one so far described between
essence and existence. Even in essence, in other words, we can
distinguish between an *id quod est* and a *quo est*, in
the classic Boethian formulation. *Quo est* is obviously
*esse essentiae*. It is not so easy, however, to identify *id
quod est*. It is certainly not essence itself, since essence is the
result of the composition, not one of its component parts. Yet neither
is it strictly speaking a *res a reor reris*, even though Henry
himself had entertained this possibility on one occasion at least
(*Summa*, art. 28, q. 4). In the denomination *res a reor
reris* are included all those essences effectively constituted as
such and also figments devoid of any objective content. Consequently,
*res ratae* are more a subcategory of *res a reor reris*,
rather than the possible result of the composition between the latter
and *esse essentiae*. The distinction between *res a reor
reris* and *res a ratitudine* seems to have mainly an
epistemological utility: it corresponds to the scientific progression
(mentioned above, SS2) from a purely nominal knowledge of a thing
(*res a reor reris* as pure *quid nominis*) to the
recognition of its essential reality (the verification of *esse
essentiae*, *quaestio si est de incomplexo*), and finally to
the determination of its objective content (*quid rei, res a
ratitudine*), according to Henry's essentialist
reinterpretation of the scheme of the *Posterior Analytics* in
his *Summa* (art. 24, q. 3).




But what is this objective content? The most explicit answer is to
be found again in q. 7 of *Quodl*. X: "esse essentiae non
proprie dicitur addi essentiae, quia non est essentia proprie nisi illo
esse, sed potius dicitur addi aliquo quod est de propria ratione
generis sui, quod cum ratione esse constituit essentiam compositam ex
quod est et esse, quod est ipsum quo est" ("essential being
is not said properly to be added to essence, since essence is none
other than that being; rather it is said to be added to something
belonging to the *ratio* of its genus, and this, together with
the *ratio* of being, constitutes the essence composed of
*quod est* and being, which is in itself the *quo
est*,"; *Quodl.* X, q. 7, ed. Macken, p. 152, ll.
59-63). To return to the earlier example, we must now say that the
essence of a stone is constituted by its being an essence (*esse
essentiae*) and by its being a stone (that which belongs to the
nature itself of a thing in that the thing belongs to a given genus:
"aliquod quod est de propria ratione generis sui"). Henry
likewise distinguishes between *ratio praedicamenti* and *res
praedicamenti* (*Quodl.* V, q. 2). *Ratio
praedicamenti* is being; it is the reason why every essence
generally falls within the predicamental sphere. *Res
praedicamenti* is instead the *realitas* of every essence;
it is what makes essence belong to a given predicament. Without
*esse essentiae* a thing (*res*) could never belong to
the categories, nor could it ever be the object of meaningful
scientific statements; yet it is that which is proper to each essence
that places it within a given predicament.



*Esse essentiae* is before every genus and outside every
genus: only in that it is composed does it belong to a given genus.
From this perspective, it is not being that is added to what is proper
to every thing, but the opposite: what determines being supervenes on
the latter. Consequently, it is not so much the objective content of an
essence that is in potency to being, but rather it is being that is in
potency to its subsequent objective determinations (Gomez
Caffarena 1958; Porro 1996). This is Henry's theory in the later
*Quodlibeta*, in concordance with the theory in *De
causis* according to which the first of created things is being (Porro 2014).
The being created first by God is clearly not *esse
existentiae*, but *esse essentiae*, called *esse
latissimum*, *esse communissimum*, and *esse largissimo
modo acceptum* in q. 3 of *Quodl.* XI. All that follows
-- that is, the determination of essence with regard to its
objective content or to its actualization in the physical or mental
world -- is none other than a delimitation, or specification, of
that being. The radical conclusion of Henry's theory is that the
only real term of creation is *esse latissimum*; all the rest is
not created from nothing, but is constituted through an in-formation
process of that essential being in a strict hierarchical order. Hence,
*esse essentiae* is created first; next comes, through
information, *esse aliquid per essentiam*; finally, the whole
essence thus composed is placed in act. *Esse existentiae* is
the actualization of *esse essentiae*, just as *esse aliquid
per existentiam* is the actualization of *esse aliquid per
essentiam*, though this is not a matter of things, elements or
different parts, but only of different intentions.




For Henry even the distinction between *esse essentiae* and
the *realitas* of an essence is of an intentional type. Such a
distinction seems to differ from the distinction between essence and
*esse existentiae*: one of the most salient features of the
intentional distinction is that one of the intentions thus
distinguished can be conceived even when the other is removed or
negated. Essence can be considered in itself, without actuality, and
yet it seems more difficult to conceive of it without its own being,
since, from a formal perspective, essence is always its being, and the
relation of participation in divine essence that constitutes every
essence is eternal and indestructible. Therefore Henry was initially
tempted to make a distinction based on reason alone between essence and
its essential being; as, for example, in the solution adopted in
*Quodl.* I, q. 9. Only later would he abandon this choice to
adopt an intentional distinction for this case too. A spectacular
example of this change of position is the recasting of q. 4, art. 21 in
the *Summa*. In the final version, Henry rejects what he had
previously maintained: that essence is really its being in a strict
sense. This inversion is probably due to the need to conserve the
distance between the absolute simplicity of the divine essence and the
simplicity of created essences, as well as to his new understanding of
the priority of essential being, as the first created thing, with
regard to all subsequent determinations, beginning with the
determination of the content of essences themselves.


## 7. Creatural Essences and Divine Ideas




Yet how are essences constituted in their being? As mentioned above,
essences depend on the divine intellect, which is their exemplary
cause. More precisely, essences correspond to divine ideas, which
represent their eternal exemplars. This might seem to be the habitual
scheme of Christian Platonism, though scholars (especially de Rijk
1991) have pointed out that, beginning with Henry, the term
"idea" loses its traditional meaning of "subsisting
form" and moves closer to its meaning in Descartes and Locke of
"instrument" or "term" of knowledge. According
to Henry an idea is in God for the fact that divine essence is in some
ways imitable by creatural essences. God's knowledge of what is
different from Himself coincides with the knowledge of the different
ways in which He considers Himself imitable, since divine knowledge is
not determined by the presence of external objects, but rather is
itself the formal (exemplary) cause of its own contents. Here, however,
the classic question of the relation between divine simplicity and
creatural multiplicity again arises. Were God to know immediately the
plurality of creatable objects (essences), His simplicity and unity
(divine knowledge is not really distinct from divine essence) would be
irremediably compromised.




On the other hand, if God did not have access to the multiplicity of
all that is distinct from His essence, He would not know anything. So,
according to Henry, divine knowledge has a primary object, which is
divine essence itself, absolutely simple and indivisible, and a
secondary object, which is in some way "other" than divine
knowledge. To avoid any excessively brusque passage, the knowledge of
this secondary object is then subdivided into two distinct moments: in
the first, every creatural essence is coincident with divine essence
itself, and expresses a simple *respectus imitabilitatis* with
it; in the second, every such essence is taken as distinct, endowed
with a specific *modus* of being -- *esse essentiae*
-- which nevertheless always derives from a relation of formal
participation in the divine essence. In Henry's lexicon, these
two moments indicate respectively the *exemplar*, which is the
divine idea, and the *exemplatum* (also called
*ideatum*), which is an essence fully constituted in its
quidditative content and so able to be placed in act.



*Exemplata*, or essences, are thus secondary objects of
divine knowledge, indeed they are doubly so, and as such they seem to
have a purely mental being. In other words, they are diminished beings
(*entia diminuta*), just like the contents of our mind. But the
divine intellect obviously does not have the same characteristics as
ours, since in order to know something our intellect needs to be
informed (*per speciem*) by its contents, and so is passive in a
sense, whereas the divine intellect is itself the cause of its own
contents. Hence the level of existence that contents have in the divine
intellect is not in any way comparable to that which they have in our
intellect. Essences are therefore *entia diminuta*, though not
so diminished that they cannot be something in themselves
(*Quodl.* IX, q. 2). Their being is their quidditative
constitution, which also defines the effective possibility of access to
actual existence: all essences, as thought of and therefore
"ratified" by God, are possible in themselves; that is,
they can be placed in act on the basis of divine free will.




One might ask whether God possesses this same freedom in bestowing
*esse essentiae* on possible essences, that is, on (doubly)
secondary objects of His knowledge. Unlike what happens for the being
of existence, the reply would seem to be negative in this case. As
mentioned above, there is an asymmetry between the relation of
efficient causality and the relation of formal dependence that conjoin
creatures and Creator: while the former is in time, the latter is
eternal. This means that the distinction between what is possible and
what is not possible is necessarily such from eternity. Moreover, since
essences can never cease to be in their essential being (that is, in
their being eternally thought by God), they are absolutely necessary.
As such, not only can they not be destroyed, but they cannot even be
modified. In actual existence, all essences are equally indifferent
with regard to the Creator's power, so that God can place in act
one *res* before another as He chooses, without any mediation,
whereas in their own being essences are arranged in a hierarchical
order that God himself, on whom that order depends, cannot modify.




In order to grasp this difference, we need only consider the first
two questions of *Quodlibet* VIII, in which Henry distinguishes
between the purely speculative knowledge that God has of essences and
His practical consideration of their possible actualization. Obviously,
there is no real difference between these two forms of knowledge, since
in God practical ideas exist only as "extensions" of
speculative ideas. In other words, the very same *rationes
ideales* that God constitutes in Himself, by considering Himself
variously imitable by creatures, can be considered in *scientia
pratica* as the possible effects of His actions ("quaedam
operabilia"). The difference between these two forms of knowledge
does not lie in the diversity of the object, but rather in the
diversity of the aim; that is, in the fact that God can consider a
thing as the result of a possible operation of His will. In this sense,
God knows what will effectively be placed in act, not by considering an
essence in itself (every essence is indeed indifferent to actual
existence), but by considering the determination of His will in this
regard.




God's will is as immutable and eternal as His knowledge; yet
it is not constrained by the essential relation that binds ideas
together. God has always known the individual entities that he will
actualize in the various species, as well as those that he will not,
yet His decision in this regard is absolutely free and does not
correspond to any essential order. The concrete,
"practical" actualization of individual entities is not the
same as the formal, ontological possibility of essences. God constructs
the essential framework of the world through ideas and speculative
knowledge, while it is through their practical extension that He freely
brings into being some of the creatures eternally constituted as
possible. Yet there is no correspondence, strictly speaking, between
one order and another.




To illustrate this divergence Henry uses a particularly striking
image: possible existences are arranged in a circle around God, so that
they are all equidistant, while essences are arranged in a straight
line, beginning with the noblest creature (the highest angel) and
ending with the lowest form of being (prime matter). Creatural essences
are thus arranged as a hierarchical and essentially ordered whole; and
this is not a mere tautology, since "essentially ordered"
refers to those causal series in which the simultaneous presence of all
terms is required for the production of an effect and in which,
consequently, a missing link in the chain is enough to invalidate any
efficacy with regard to the effects. This means that while the second
term depends directly and exclusively on the first, the third depends
on the first and the second, the forth on the first three, and so on. A
series of this type is clearly neither open nor infinite, since if it
were there would no longer be an ordered relation between the
terms.




Concerning the case in question, this fact has at least two
consequences. In the first place, according to Henry, God cannot now
introduce *ex novo* a new essence in any part of the series
without irremediably destroying the world order. Even if it were
possible to add something at the beginning or at the end of the series
-- above the highest angel or below prime matter -- then
other infinite terms would be possible, too, and infinity in itself
destroys any ordered relation. From this perspective it is easy to
understand Henry's reservation over the possibility of
distinguishing between *potentia ordinata* and *potentia
absoluta* in God, a distinction which he is more willing to accept
in relation to papal authority (see below, SS11). God can do
nothing *de potentia absoluta* that He cannot also do *de
potentia ordinata*, since He himself is bound by the order that He
has eternally established. Supernatural intervention is thus delegated
only to the *potentia oboedentialis* of creatures, though it is
never outside the established order and merely indicates the
difference, within this order, between what is possible for natural
agents and what is possible for a supernatural agent.




In the second place, since there is a perfect correspondence between
creatural essences and divine ideas, the latter are numerically finite,
like the former (Porro 1993). This theory, which is highly unusual to
say the least, is explicitly put forward by Henry on at least two
occasions in his *Quodlibeta* (*Quodl.* V, q. 3 and
*Quodl.* VIII, q. 8), before being partially retracted, albeit
reluctantly, in virtue of an unspecified article condemned in Paris
(*Quodl*. XI, q. 11).


## 8. God as the First Object of our Knowledge (*primum cognitum*)




In describing the role of divine illumination in the cognitive
process of the human intellect (see above, SS2), Henry is always
careful to specify that God functions only as *ratio
cognoscendi* and not as *obiectum cognitum*. From another
perspective, however, God is also the first known object of the human
intellect, according to one of Henry's most famous and
characteristic doctrines (*Summa*, art. 24, q. 7). The apparent
contrast between these two theories is lessened when we recognize that
for Henry God is the *primum cognitum* of our intellect, not
because of the evidence, but because of the absolute indeterminacy of
our concept of God.




For Henry, the more indeterminate an intelligible, the more quickly
it is grasped naturally by our intellect ("...et sic
universaliter quanto intelligibile magis est indeterminatum, tanto
naturaliter prius ipsum intellectus noster intelligit";
*Summa*, art. 24, q. 7, ed. 1520, f. 144rG). While God is not
the first but the last concept in the order of rational knowledge,
after the knowledge of creatures, He is the first object of natural
knowledge, which is had in the first intentions and in which our
intellect always proceeds from what is most indeterminate. Concerning
any thing, our intellect first grasps (by nature) the fact of its being
an entity and then the fact of its being *that* determined
entity, even though chronologically the opposite seems true. Actually,
we seem to grasp a thing first as a stone and then as a being in
general, though in the natural order we can only know something as a
stone because we have implicitly recognized it as a being.




There are, however, two different kinds of indeterminacy: privative
indeterminacy (the mere absence of determination, that is, the
indeterminacy of what can be conceived regardless of its
determinations, though being in itself fully determinable) and
negative indeterminacy (that is, the indeterminacy of what is so
simple and subsistent as not to allow any further determination).




The first kind of indeterminacy pertains to the concept of being in
general and to the other primary notions (one, true, good etc.); the
second one pertains to subsistent Being and Good, that is, to
God. Since the latter indeterminacy is actual, whereas the first
derives only from the 'privation' of any additional determination, the
negatively indeterminate Being (God) is clearly more indeterminate
(and indeterminable) than what is only privatively indeterminate (the
concept of being), even though this does not imply that negative
indeterminacy has a greater extension than privative indeterminacy
(what is privatively indeterminate is always more universal). Yet this
is enough to state that in conceiving any determinate being our
intellect also conceives indeterminate being, and, together with it,
in an even more primary way, negatively indeterminate being.




What is valid for being may also be
applied to the other first intentions, though the concept of
*ens* still remains the most indeterminate and hence
original.


## 9. Analogy




The last aspect is clarified particularly in q. 2, art. 21 of the
*Summa*, in which Henry deals with the theme of the relation
between the being of creatures and the being of the creator.




According to Henry, there is no real community, within creatural
being, between substantial being and accidental being; as a
consequence, given that the distance between God's being and
creatures' being is much greater than the difference between the being
of substance and that of accidents, being cannot be something common
to both God and creatures. When being is predicated of God and
creatures, this only happens on the basis of the community of the
name, and not of a real community: we are not dealing therefore with a
univocal predication, nor we are dealing with a purely equivocal
predication, but with an intermediate, that is analogical,
predication, one in which the term 'being' primarily and directly
relates to God, and only in a secondary way to creatures, since the
latter derive their being from God.




The analogy between God and creatures must be distinguished from the
analogical relation between substance and accident within the same
creatural being: while other beings relate to substance as their
subject, all creatures relate to God as to their end, their form (that
is, as to the cause of their *esse essentiae*), and their
efficient principle (that is, as to the cause of their *esse
actualis existentiae*). Consequently, according to Henry, every
real concept through which the being of something is conceived without
any further qualification (*simpliciter*), always refers to
God's being or to creatures' being, and never to something common to
both.




Yet Henry adds in this regard that those who have not been able to
distinguish among the many meanings of being (as instead Aristotle
correctly did), and have rather understood being as one genus (as
Plato did), held that the name 'being' referred to a single and common
concept. Univocity is therefore, according to Henry, a mistake, the
origin of which lies in the indeterminacy of the concept of being
which is first known by the intellect. In actual fact, as mentioned
above, indeterminacy is twofold, and points to something completely
different in the case of God's being (negative indeterminacy, which
excludes any possible determination in act and in potency) and in the
case of creatural being (privative indeterminacy, which excludes only
any actual determination). Since, however, these two kinds may appear
similar, those who are unable to perceive their difference conceive as
one and the same thing indeterminate being, whether it is taken in the
first or in the second meaning, that is, whether it is proper to God
or to the general concept of being. This univocal concept is therefore
a mistake, or an error, because nothing positive is really common to
God and creatures, but only something negative, as the 'right'
intellect subsequently acknowledges, when, going beyond the apparent
initial indistinctness, it conceives in a distinct, separate way
negatively indeterminate being and privatively indeterminate
being.




Henry's latter precision remains nonetheless ambiguous: the fact that
the 'right' intellect (*rectus intellectus*) can make a
distinction between the two kinds of indeterminacy only 'subsequently'
(*consequenter*; f. 125rS) suggests that the initial confusion
is not only a mistake of the upholders of the univocity of being, but
a kind of deviation or temptation of the human intellect, especially
if we consider that, in conceiving any determinate being, our
intellect always conceives, at a more general level, indeterminate
being, and within the latter, in a more original way, negatively
indeterminate being (see above, SS 8). Thus, in other texts (such as in
the following q. 3 of the same art. 21 of the *Summa*, where
Henry is in actual fact citing Avicenna), Henry speaks of a common,
analogous concept of being, giving the impression of bringing analogy
closer to univocity. The first concept of being (*ens largissimo
modo acceptum*) is "something analogous common to Creator and
creature, containing within itself being as principle and being as
produced" ("commune analogum ad creatorem et creaturam, continens sub
se ens principium et ens principiatum", *Summa*, art. 21, q. 3,
ed. 1520, I, f. 126rD; my interpretation here differs somewhat from
that of Pickave, who separates the question of analogy from that of
the first object of knowing by suggesting that the distinction between
what is negatively indeterminate and what is privatively indeterminate
has a different meaning and function in the two cases. Concerning the
confusion between the two kinds of indeterminacy, Pickave prefers to
speak of 'weakness', instead of 'mistake' or 'error'; see Pickave
2011a). This concept at first common to God and creatures (whether it
is erroneously conceived as something positive, or correctly conceived
as something negative) offers, at any rate, the only possible starting
point for a metaphysical demonstration of the existence of God, a
demonstration that, in appealing to Avicenna and to Augustine's *De
Trinitate*, proceeds from the consideration of any determinate
being or good to the distinct knowledge of God as pure, necessarily
existing Being (*Summa*, art. 22, q. 5; art. 24, q. 6). Henry
does not refrain, however, from presenting *a posteriori*
proofs -- in the order of efficient, formal and final causes
-- that nevertheless refer exclusively to the existence of
God *de complexo*; in other words, to the truth of the
statement "God exists" (*Summa*, art. 22,
q. 4).


## 10. Intellect and Will




In his production Henry dedicates no less than 20 quodlibetal
questions to an analysis of will and intellect, considered both in
general and with particular reference to the human sphere (Macken 1975
and 1977). In *Quodl.* I, q. 14, the eminence of the will over
the intellect is defended, taking into account the *habitus*,
act and object of the two faculties. As in Pauline doctrine, the
*habitus* of the will, which is love (*caritas*), is
preferable to the *habitus* of the intellect, which is
knowledge. Its act, which consists in desiring and loving God, is
preferable to the act of reason, which is represented only by knowing
God. The object of the will, the supreme Good, is more eminent than the
object of the intellect, which is the truth, i.e. the good, of a given
thing and is thus a subordinate good. In the next *quaestio*
(*Quodl.* I, q. 15), however, Henry clarifies that the primacy
of one faculty over another can be understood in a double sense:
"primacy of essence" should be attributed to
*voluntas*, whereas "primacy of action" should be
attributed to *ratio*.




While it is true that the will is the superior faculty, in order to
act it always needs the intervention of reason. This is justified on
the basis of the human cognitive process itself: in man, as in other
animals, the first form of knowledge is received through the senses.
Nevertheless, sensible appetites alone cannot activate the will, which
only moves toward the *universaliter* and *simpliciter*
Good, and not toward a particular good, such as that perceived by the
senses. So the intervention of the intellect, which is able to abstract
the universal from sensible particulars and thereby permits the motion
of the will, is always needed. In this way, the intellect precedes the
will. So, in order to avoid the inconvenience of having the motion of
the will depend on sensible appetites (determinism of the passions),
Henry always recognizes the importance of the role of reason.




Nevertheless, unlike the theory upheld by those intellectualists
closer to the Aristotelian tradition in this case, the intellect itself
is only a condition, and not the absolute cause, of the motion of the
will. For Henry the will is characterized by the capacity for
self-motion. After being alluded to in q. 22, *Quodl.* IV, this
theory becomes central to q. 5, *Quodl.* IX of the Lent Session,
1285: "Utrum voluntas moveat seipsam" ("Whether the
will moves itself"). The date is here important, since this
*Quodlibet* was disputed after the famous *propositio
magistralis* of 1285, i.e. the proposition conceded by the Parisian
Masters of Theology on the occasion of Giles of Rome's
rehabilitation: "si ratio recta, et voluntas recta"
("if reason is right, then the will is also right"). In
this question the superiority of the will is vindicated by Henry, since
not only does it move all the other faculties, and hence the intellect
too, but it also, indeed above all, moves itself, at a level of
perfection which is second only to that of God. To the objection based
on the well-known Aristotelian principle according to which "all
that moves, is moved by something else," Henry replies that while
this principle is valid for the material faculties, it cannot be
applied in the same way to the spiritual faculties, since the latter
possess a higher degree of perfection.




It is the level of perfection that determines the strength and
capacity of that which actualizes something else. Therefore, as the
levels of perfection increase, from matter (which, as pure potency,
moves nothing) to God (pure act), the distinction between mover and
moved diminishes. The will is immediately below the highest level of
perfection, represented by God, since it admits a purely
"intentional" distinction (see above SS4) between
mover and moved. And since it is self-moving, it is also free. Thus, in
virtue of its nature, the will is induced to seek the good proposed by
the intellect, though it remains free in this quest even with regard to
the supreme Good.




In *Quodlibet* X of the Advent Session, 1286, Henry returns
to the problem of the self-motion of the will, introducing the notion
of *virtus ad movendum*, through which the spiritual faculties
(such as human *voluntas*) can produce and specify their own
acts without an external mover. More especially, through this
*virtus ad movendum*, which corresponds to the substantial form
of the subject, the will is able to pass from the potency of desiring
to the act of desiring, since it already "virtually"
contains this act within itself. Henry thus surprisingly concludes that
even the above-mentioned *propositio magistralis* ("si
ratio recta, et voluntas recta") does not undermine the
superiority of the will. The proposition should be interpreted in the
sense of simultaneity, and not causality, since the second faculty
(*ratio*) does not necessarily determine the first
(*voluntas*), but is only the *conditio sine qua non* of
its operation. Finally, Henry concedes that the will cannot desire what
it does not know, but denies that the will is determined in its choices
by the intellect; in other words, that it cannot desire the opposite of
what the intellect dictates.




Henry can thus undoubtedly be considered a voluntarist (Muller
2007), even though with regard to the more "radical"
voluntarists, such as Walter of Brugge, he does not confine himself to
interpreting the role of reason as that of a mere
"advisor", but instead as that of a cause (albeit a
*causa sine qua non*): without the prior knowledge of the
intellect (characterized by the same kind of freedom as
*voluntas*), the will cannot desire anything. In other words,
for Henry the intellect and the good that it proposes are not the sole
or necessary origin of the motion of the will, as is affirmed, on the
other hand, by those interpreters closer to Aristotle. Nevertheless, by
presenting the objects that this faculty can freely choose, reason is
the *conditio sine qua non* of the action of the will itself,
which otherwise would be prey to sensible appetites and the determinism
of the passions. Moral action is therefore performed both by the
intellect, which presents the kinds of good to choose, and by the will,
which freely chooses one of these, yet without being forced to opt for
that which is judged best by reason (Teske 2011; Leone 2014).


## 11. Other Characteristic Elements: Human Dimorphism, Time, the Active Life, Human Rights, the Special Illumination of the Theologian




Here, we can briefly refer to other characteristic elements of
Henry's metaphysical and theological system:


* The theory of human dimorphism: man alone has two substantial
forms, one of which is the rational soul; see *Quodl*. II, q. 2,
after the hesitations of *Quodl*. I, q. 4 and the subsequent
threats by Tempier and Simon of Brion, recounted in detail by Henry in
a passage later suppressed in the final redaction of *Quodl*. X,
q. 5 (ed. Macken, pp. 127-128, *app.*).
* The essential identity between grace and glory (*Quodl.* IX,
q. 13; cf. Arezzo 2005).
* The vehement defence of the role of human merit in the doctrine of
divine grace, at least in terms of congruity (*Quodl.* VIII, q.
5).
* The superiority of the active over the contemplative life, under
given conditions, in the present life (*Quodl.* XII, q. 28; cf.
Macken 1994; Leone 2011 and 2014).
* The relative superiority of personal over common good in the
hierarchy of spiritual goods (*Quodl.* IX, q. 19; cf. Kempshall
1999).
* The formulation of a basic vocabulary of human rights; see
especially *Quodl.* IX, q. 26 -- "whether someone
condemned to death can legitimately escape" -- in which,
according to Brian Tierney, the idea of a natural right to survival
seems to emerge for the first time in Western thought (Tierney
1992).
* The duplication of prudence, that is, the distinction between
prudence as the 'reasoning' about particular things and actions
(*prudentia experimentalis*) and prudence as the comprehension
of universal principles of agency (*prudentia universalis*),
which assumes (in a way that is unique within the Aristotelian
tradition) the role of determining the moral ends (*Quodl.* V,
q. 17, ed. Paris 1520, I, ff. 188rL-193rX; Porro 2013).
* The elaboration of an authoritative doctrine of time, based on a
reworking of Averroes' theory, according to which time coincides,
in its material aspect, with the continuity of motion, and in its
formal aspect, with the division (*discretio*) applied to this
motion by the numbering activity of the soul (see *Quodl.* III,
q. 11, in clear opposition to Augustine's doctrine of time).
* The admission of a distinction between *potentia ordinata*
and *potentia absoluta* in the case of the pope, and the
refutation of this distinction in the case of God. For Henry
*potentia absoluta* always indicates the possibility of acting
in a disorderly way, which the pope, who is capable of sinning,
possesses, but God does not (see *Tractatus super facto praelatorum
et fratrum*, ratio decima pro fratribus, ed. Hodl / Haverals,
pp. 253-259; cf. Porro 2003).
* The severe criticism of Thomas Aquinas' and Giles of
Rome' doctrine of the subalternation of theological science to
the science of God and the Blessed (*Summa*, art. 7, q. 4 and
q. 5; Porro 2002a and 2009).
* The doctrine of *lumen supernaturale* ("supernatural
light"), which is the prerogative of theologians only, and which
makes their scientific habit superior to that of other intellectuals
(*Quodl.* XII, q. 2; Trottmann 1999; Arezzo 2014).




Indeed, one of the central concerns throughout Henry's career
was the vindication of the absolutely scientific nature of theology.
Moreover, it is the Master of Theology's duty to give, on
request, his authoritative opinion on any topic; hence the numerous
questions of a pastoral, social, political and even economic kind that
make Henry's *Quodlibeta* one of the richest and liveliest
theological works of the entire Scholastic production (Porro 2006;
Marmursztejn 2007; Konig-Pralong 2011).