1. The story of how one of the two great Caucasian nations, the Armenians, came to form a national Church, while the other, the Georgians, remained for several centuries longer within the unity of the Church Universal, is still to be written. Practically all that has been said on the subject stands in need of revision. This is due to several factors in connection with Caucasian sources. In the first place, these sources were for a long time unsatisfactorily evaluated. It is within but the last half-century or so that the correct floruit of some of the important Armenian historians was established — for instance that of Moses of Khoren: sometime between the seventh and the ninth century and not, as was formerly held, in the fifth — and that many other, especially Georgian, historical works came to be critically studied and dated. Secondly, many of the invaluable sources — such as the Book of Letters or the Queen Anne Codex of the Georgian Royal Annals — were only quite recently published and have not been made use of, even to this day, by some scholars dealing with Caucasian history. Finally, some Armenian historians that have always been known and held in esteem have not always been recognized as afflicted with what was once called la maladie de Froude and, consequently, prone, in serving the cause of national religion, to overlook some facts of history and to alter others.

The First Crusade is one of the most intensively researched events of the Middle Ages, yet, paradoxically, the manuscript source base for the letters from the expedition is almost entirely unexplored and represents an exciting new avenue of investigation for crusade studies. This article publishes the texts of three new manuscript witnesses of First Crusade letters and explores their regional reception and transmission as a form of “scribal crusading” — that is, monastic participation in the crusades from behind cloister walls. The findings of this article reveal an extremely significant, but previously underappreciated, collective impulse among German monastic communities in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries to participate in the crusading movement through the copying of First Crusade letters.

Some great men receive their due from historians late. Caesarius of Arles is one of these, in good part perhaps because the established mold for writing and teaching about the tradition of spirituality and intellectuality which Roman culture contributed to early medieval Europe had its heroes defined for it early. The patterns thus set up have tended to resist the admission of intruders brought to the fore by more recent historical investigations.

If an apology for renewed textual study of a familiar, fairly well preserved and not extraordinarily difficult book (from the textual point of view) be called for, the writer hopes the following will suffice. It seems evident that we are still a good many years away from a definitive edition of that part of the Septuagint which includes the Book of Wisdom (‘Wisdom of Solomon‘). Yet for no book which has not been published with an exhaustive apparatus do we have a more comprehensive supply of text-critical material than we have for Wisdom;1 and none gives less scope for an expectation that future collations will in any way transform our knowledge or appreciation of the text. It seems, therefore, a suitable time for stock-taking; and the writer has been impelled to submit his results partly because they go somewhat beyond the data currently offered by editors and commentators, and partly as the appropriate foundation for a revised rendering soon to be published.

William of Auvergne became a master of theology in the University of Paris in 1223 and was appointed bishop of Paris by Gregory IX in 1228. William governed the church of Paris until his death in 1249, while continuing to write the works which constitute his immense Magisterium divinale et sapientiale. Despite the fact that he was the first of the thirteenth-century theologians to appreciate the value of the Aristotelian philosophy that poured into the Latin West during the last half of the twelfth and the beginning of the thirteenth century, his writings have not received the scholarly attention they deserve. Étienne Gilson has sketched well the impact of the influx of Greek and Arabian philosophical works into the Christian West:

The development of sophisticated and complex techniques of literary interpretation was among the greatest achievements of those twelfth-century thinkers who have come loosely to be called ‘Chartrian.’ Chartrian literary allegoresis grew from a reawakened interest in the natural sciences, and a spiritual optimism about man's rational capacity to understand the Creator through his creation. These literary commentators made a habit of encyclopedic digression, using single words or brief passages from their texts to introduce whole chunks of allegorically or literally relevant information from the trivium, the quadrivium, mythology, and natural philosophy. They thus sought to find in their books the whole world of knowledge and the course of spiritual development, even as they had learned to see their world itself as a book. Intimately connected to this was the idea of the arts as a discipline for regaining lost knowledge of divine truths, and education as part of a symbolic spiritual pilgrimage.

The notion that the pursuit of self-interest can ultimately bring universal good used to be widely held, but with the demise of the Manchester School of economics and of Herbert Spencer's philosophy it has almost completely gone out of favor. We are apt to forget that trial by jury, due process, and the rest of the beneficent heritage of medieval law originated in royal courts which were primarily interested in defending and promoting the king's interests, whatever the cost to others' rights or ideas of justice. For many years necessities of government warped the growth of English law where the king's needs were most closely engaged. His requirements shaped the remedies, his prerogatives shaped the possibilities of defense, while those who might stand in his way received nothing for their protection but the right to petition, and those who did not affect his immediate interests might be sent elsewhere to find their justice. At no time was this more evident than when the interests of the medieval clergy in their ecclesiastical benefices, already eroded by papal provisions, were attacked anew by the Common Law to aid the royal treasury.

Walter Burley's De Motu Animalium has never appeared in print. Our edition of this work was prepared from six manuscript copies: Erfurt SB Amploniana Q. 312 (XIV century) fols. 78r–81r; London Lambeth Palace 70 (XIV) fols. 144r–147v; Lambeth Palace 74 (A.D. 1390) fols. 30r–32v; Oxford Magdalen College 80 (XIV) fols. 177v–180v; Oriel College 12 (XV) fols. 115–119; Vaticana Vat. lat. 2151 (XIV) fols. 239r–244r. The Magdalen (afterwards M.) manuscript is the most complete and is followed closely by Amploniana (A.), though A. is almost impossible to read by itself owing to the crabbed and scratchy manner in which it was written. Oriel (0.) makes the most omissions; it is incomplete and anonymous. The two Lambeth Palace MSS follow each other closely. L. 70 is anonymous and L. 74 is incomplete. Vatican was the original manuscript upon which our edition was based. It is an excellently preserved text but not quite sufficient by itself to constitute a safe reading of Burley's work. Our edition can claim to be critical to the extent that six manuscripts were consulted.

Probably not long before the middle of the thirteenth century, Richard of Fournival, cleric, physician, and author, sent to an unnamed lady the autograph copy of his richly illustrated Bestiaire d'amours. In the prologue, Richard goes to some lengths to explain and justify the inclusion of pictures: hearing (oir) and vision (veir) are the doors through which collective knowledge is transmitted to the individual mind and memory (memoire), and word (parole) and picture (peinture) are the paths to these doors. Either one or the other route could have been chosen — in principle, they represent equivalent alternatives — but Richard is sending both words and pictures, because he wants to make doubly sure that the lady will indeed remember, that is to say, make his love the object of her own memory. The common denominator for word and picture is ‘image,’ and that is the notion on which the illustrator of one of the fourteenth-century copies of the Bestiaire based his introduction to the corresponding modes of reception: on folio 86v he depicted a reader who imagines what he reads (fig. 1); battle-ready warriors of romance stand before this seated figure in the privacy of his own room (indicated by the drapes), before his mind's eye, as it were, conjured up by the words of the text.

Though Cicero's authority helped elevate the ideal orator's dexterity and discipline to the status of cliche, the vital link between theory and practice that his dialogues advocate did not long survive him. As professional rhetoricians of the next century became increasingly preoccupied with declamation, practical oratory developed and rewarded other qualities. Eloquence of the old kind could be thought a vanishing art. This then is how the younger Pliny would describe one of the most successful speakers of the late first century, the notorious (and long-lived) delator M. Aquilius Regulus.

The year 1321 is crucially important in the history of the development of French constitutional and political activity, for it was then that Philip V, the most inventive and imaginative of the sons of Philip the Fair, attempted to utilize assemblies of different sorts for an unprecedented purpose, to secure from the kingdom of France a grant of funds in time of peace to support a program of administrative and economic reform. His predecessors had had some success in securing levies for the defense of the realm, and, like them, Philip had raised money for campaigns against the Flemings. Neither Philip nor the kings who had ruled before him had, however, tried to obtained the active cooperation of the kingdom in advancing the welfare of France by introducing improvements which were totally unrelated to the needs of defense. It is a testimony to Philip's vision that he made such an attempt, abortive though it proved to be, for in the end his work came to nothing, and early in 1322 Philip died. While the complete failure of Philip's plans, which have fittingly been termed his ‘Grand Design,’ meant that 1321 would not become a landmark in French constitutional history, it does not make the brief episode any the less interesting. Its details illustrate the practical difficulties involved in the execution of such a project, and help explain why the evolution of viable institutions to facilitate cooperation between ruler and ruled to promote the common good were so halting, and why instances of such cooperation are so rare.

One of the commonplaces of criticism with regard to Greek thought is that there existed a canonical tetralogy, ὄλβος, ϰόος, ὕβις and ἄτη which was inexorably operative in human lives. Thus, Basil Gildersleeve in his comments on Pindar's thought wrote:

William of Sherwood (or Shyreswood) was an English logician of the thirteenth century. Little is known of his life. He possibly taught logic at Paris from about 1235 to about 1250. By 1252 he was active as master at Oxford. Between 1254 and 1258 he became treasurer of the Cathedral of Lincoln, an office he seems to have retained until his death. He was rector of Attleborough (Buckinghamshire) from about 1257 and prebendary of Aylesbury (Lincolnshire) by 1266. He died between 1266 and 1272.

In 1955, Professor Eric Colledge of the University of Liverpool called our attention to hagiographical and historical material relating to the Order of the Augustinian Hermits, found in Cod. Plut. 90 sup. 48 of the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in Florence. The hagiographical section is headed by an anonymous Life of St. Augustine which, for its structure and the methods of its composition, offers a striking example of the genre of medieval hagio- graphy. We shall first give a general analysis of the MS and its contents, and then discuss the Vita Aurelii Augustini Hipponensis episcopi in detail.

Cuatro son los comentarios de los canonistas a las constituciones del Concilio IV Lateranense cuya noticia ha Ilegado hasta nosotros: el de Vincentius Hispanus, el de Juan Teutónico, el apparatus Si persistant in contumacia y el apparatus Quoniam omnes questionum articuli. Antes de ocuparnos de cada uno en particular, incluímos algunas observaciones acerca de la transmisión manuscrita del texto de dichos cánones, cuya lectura definitiva está todavía sin hacer.

As historians of medieval theology and philosophy increasingly turn to study intellectual developments in the early fourteenth century, it is natural that Robert Holcot, O.P. († 1349), should come to stand out as an Oxford master worthy of further investigation. During his own lifetime, when he was associated with the household of Richard de Bury, the famous bishop of Durham, and on even into the early years of the sixteenth century, when several editions of his major works were printed, Holcot was held in high regard as a commentator on the Sentences, as a biblical exegete, and as a supplier of moralizing sermon exempla. His view of predestination was carefully studied by John Eck, and the Parisian master Jacques Almain devoted a treatise to his Sentence commentary.

In the seventh bolgia of the Inferno, Dante encounters the thieves, who are punished by undergoing an horrific series of Ovid-like metamorphoses in which men are changed into snakes or unidentifiable amalgams of matter. Since theft violates particular justice, which is a dynamic process that coordinates relations, I will argue that Dante properly makes metamorphosis and the lack of relation it creates between the forms that are changed the fitting punishment for thieves. Ovidian metamorphosis, however, can only image the mutations they experience because Dante's sinners have undergone a transformation even before they are changed into snakes. For particular justice, as Aristotle says, is only part of a more general kind of justice which is complete excellence. In the Inferno, this global justice is the final cause of Hell (‘Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore,’ Inf. 3, 4), and the principle of retribution that establishes the balance between the punishment and crime of those in it. This general justice, I shall argue, also effects a metamorphosis in the damned prior to their particular punishments, a metamorphosis of unbecoming which makes each of them a perverse parody of what God had originally made them. Every sinner in Hell is undergoing a deformation, a disordering movement away from form which unbalances the vital relationship between body and soul that had made him or her human. More precisely, even though we learn from Statius in the Purgatorio that the damned retain the rational soul, it no longer functions as the form of the body, for it has ceased to be that determining element which allows us to understand the one it is in is a member of the species man. Indeed, as the particular transformations of Agnello and Buoso will make clear, the substantial form of all the damned has become less the intellectual soul than the shape of their matter, from which the intellect can no longer abstract any intelligible form. And as their increasing corporeality suggests, the sinners throughout Hell are being transformed into creatures of ever greater density, who lack inner depth, creatures devoid of an animating essence whose powers persist despite outer change.

The manuscript tradition of the tragedies of Sophocles has never been fully investigated although many meritorious contributions were made towards this end. There exists, first of all, no complete list of the pertinent manuscripts. In former times several lists, far from being complete, were published by Fabricius-Harles, Blaydes, Campbell, Papageorgiou. The present writer has compiled, from all the known printed catalogs of Greek manuscript collections, a new list which will be presented in this study. Thus the groundwork will be laid for all further research aiming at the establishment of a complete genealogy of the extant mss. of Sophocles. This desideratum has been pointed out by Richard Jebb.