Much is known about processions within the Roman liturgy, but the processions of the Old Hispanic rite practiced in most of Christian Iberia until ca. 1080 have not been studied. Explicit evidence about Old Hispanic processional characteristics and liturgical contexts is preserved in manuscript rubrics. Processions happened around or during Mass (for example, on Palm Sunday), at the end of Vespers or Matutinum (for example, the consecration of a basilica), or outside the usual daily liturgy (for example, votive ordos). We have collated all of the extant Old Hispanic rubrics pertaining to liturgical movement. Some of these unquestionably refer to processions, while others describe ceremonies that might better be described more informally as “liturgy in motion.” We focus primarily on the processional rubrics, while also engaging with other liturgical movement. We identify the chant genres associated with processions and outline the processional practices attested in the rubrics.

At a certain moment in his life Ramon Llull became convinced that if his great projects were ever to be realized, he would have to gain the support of the leading rulers of Christendom. The Crown of Aragon was not enough. God had revealed to him a universal Art for the conversion of infidels, a paradigm of all knowledge, a general method for contemplation, and Llull naturally deemed it vital that this revelation should become known throughout the world. Some thirteen years after his illumination, Llull decided to go to Paris, to address the most powerful monarch in Europe and defend his ideas before the most prestigious university in the western world.

Historians of philosophy have often discussed Aquinas's view of human knowledge as it appears in the first part of the Summa theologiae. They have observed that he represents a more philosophical view than the Augustinian account of divine illumination. Yet little attention has been paid to the relation between this discussion of human knowledge and the account of Christ's knowledge in the third part of the Summa theologiae. One reason for this neglect is that scholarship is often practiced within the spheres of intellectual inquiry that were framed during the modern period. We ignore issues present in primary texts in order to construct proof texts that respond to present-day philosophical interests. In pursuit of questions having to do with epistemology, logic, metaphysics, and ethics, rarely do historians or philosophers attempt to unravel the historical and theological context of specific texts. In regard to human knowledge, rarely do we read beyond questions 84 through 86 on the human knowledge of material objects, and even more rarely do we consider what Aquinas has to say about the knowledge of Christ. Rather, we treat questions on the human knowledge of material things as if they concerned issues raised today in epistemology or philosophy of mind.

When in the early morning hours of February 14, 1130, Pope Honorius II closed his eyes forever, a crisis within the Church of Rome broke into the open which long had been in the making. The forces which had dominated the Curia for eighty years, which had given to the world the great popes of the Reform, were challenged and swept aside by the revolution of an energetic minority which during less than a decade had steadily increased its influence in the Sacred College. Its undisputed leader was the Chancellor Haimeric, a Frenchman who had been appointed to his high office in 1123 by the French Pope Calixtus II. It was he who devised the measures which were to insure the succession to his party, measures which under the circumstances were bound to result in an uncanonical election, and, as a natural consequence, in a second election by the outraged majority.

In Act II, scene iv of Shakespeare's Henry VIII, Queen Catherine is confronted by the start of divorce proceedings against her. One of the two cardinals delegated as judges by the pope is Henry's faithful servant, Cardinal Wolsey, a man little likely to be an impartial judge of the legal merits of the famous case. And so the Queen says to him:

I do believe

Induced by potent circumstances, that You are mine enemy, and make my challenge You shall not be my judge.

Shakespeare does not today enjoy a wide reputation as a canonist, but he has here described with some correctness the canonical recusatio. This is the right, under certain circumstances, to challenge and remove a papal judge delegate for interest, prejudice, or unfitness for office.

The scanty remains of Hilary's Liber lujmnorumr, represented by the three hymns which have come down to us in the Arezzo manuscript. provide us with our earliest glimpse into Latin hymnody. Since these hymns have been found in no other manuscript, all attempts to provide a correct text owe a good deal to the editor's ingenuity. This study tries to analyze the metrical structure of the first of the three hymns and to offer a few emendations that seem required by the structure.

Le ms. H. 308 de l'É cole de Médecine àMontpellier contient une collection de textes patriotiques et conciliaires qui a livré plusieurs pièces de grande valeur. En 1656, le jésuite P. F. Chifflet en a tiré de très importants fragments de l'ouvrage perdu de Fulgence de Ruspe, Contra Fabianum. Il a également servi àSchwartz, avec un seul autre ms. de Paris, pour son édition d'une lettre de Jean II, déjà publiee par Sichard. Le même critique l'utilise aussi pour de nombreuses pièces des conciles de Chalcédoine et d'É phèse. En préface de son édition de la lettre de Jean II, il a donné une description du contenu, et il nous avertit qu'il l'a faite d'autant plus volontiers qu'il s'agit d'un genre d'ouvrage fort peu étudié. Je crois pouvoir apporter ici des indications précises sur l'origine de la collection.

Many thinkers, Thomists especially, view the real distinction between being and essence as one of the most important topics in philosophy. It is certainly one of the most intriguing. The philosophical development of this doctrine has thus been amply dealt with by historians of philosophy. The extent to which William of Auvergne has contributed to such development has, however, been a matter of considerable disagreement. In fact, scholars differ radically in their interpretations of William's distinction between being and essence. In this article, I shall attempt to make as clear as possible William's understanding of the distinction between being and essence. Specifically, I shall try to answer the question of whether or not he holds a real distinction between being and essence. To do so, I shall look closely at certain texts of William that are relevant to the question. I shall also provide a brief account of some of the more important and representative commentaries on William's understanding of this distinction.

Perhaps this article had best begin with an apology. One need not be very conversant with the biography of St. Thomas to know that the points of contact between him and France were comparatively few and that he never was particularly attracted towards a country long the enemy of his own. And still, even before the points of contact did exist, very little experience could not fail to teach him that France was no negligible factor in the affairs of the world and that whether he liked it or not, he could not ignore her thought or her politics. As years passed by, he had opportunities to pay the neighboring nation occasional visits, he made the personal acquaintance of some of her more or less eminent representatives, and a time came when he had to discuss State matters for his country with a few of them. That was not all, and almost on his last day, at the solemn hour of his trial, the name of France was on his lips. These few facts seem sufficient proof to the present writer that his country cannot have left his favorite saint indifferent (Ch. I), and he feels the more drawn towards an inquiry into the matter as he is sure that his favorite saint, in turn, is far from having left some at least of his compatriots indifferent in the course of the last four centuries (Ch. II).

In der Christologie der nach-nicänischen und nach-chalcedonischen Zeit findet sich eine Bezeichnung der menschlichen Wirklichkeit Jesu Christi, deren Geschichte und Bedeutung bis heute noch nicht völlig geklärt sind: ὁ ϰυϱιαϰὸς ἄνθϱωπος, in lateinischer Übersetzung: homo dominicus. Bisher wurde ihr Vorkommen am meisten beachtet im Zusammenhang der Erforschung der Epistula ad Antiochenos (hier weiterhin: EAA) oder des sogenannten Sermo maior de fide, einer Schrift, die heute Markell von Ankyra zugeteilt wird, und der pseudathanasianischen Expositio fidei (fortan: EF), die von dem eben genannten Werk allerdings nur in den §§ 3–4 abhängig ist. Vermutlich darf man Marcus Eremita und seinen Gebrauch von ϰνϱιαϰὸς ἄνθϱωπος (fortan: ϰ.α.) in dem aszetischen Werk Ad Nicolaum praecepta animae salutaria (= Opusculum V) daneben stellen, während sein dogmatisches Werk Aduersus eos qui dicunt sanctam carnem non fuisse unitam cum Verbo … (= Opusculum XI) einen wichtigen Schritt darüber hinaus bedeutet. Man hat auch behauptet, daß Athanasius von Alexandrien diese Bezeichnung gebraucht habe, dies unter Berufung auf einige Texte bei Severus von Antiochien. Dies ist zu überprüfen. K.α. taucht sodann auf im Schrifttum des Didymus von Alexandrien, des Epiphanius von Salamis, des Gregor von Nyssa. Im Osten reicht seine Geschichte bis hin zu Leontius von Jerusalem und (Ps.-) Pamphilus, der wohl bald nach 560, sicher aber vor 630 geschrieben hat, und schließlich bis zu Anastasius Sinaita. Von den Lateinern kennen sie Hieronymus, Papst Damasus, dann Augustinus und der Nestoriusgegner Ioannes Cassian. Wenn Augustinus in seinen Retractationes davon Abschied nimmt, so mag dies nicht ohne Einfluß auf das Verschwinden dieses Ausdrucks in der westlichen Theologie gewesen sein, wenn er auch noch Thomas von Aquin (S. Th. III 16 3) der Erwähnung und der Diskussion für wert erschienen ist. Die Verlegenheit der Dogmenhistoriker in der Deutung dieser Geschichte dauert an bis heute. Der Grund dafür liegt darin, daß die Verwendungs- und Bedeutungsgeschichte dieses Ausdrucks ϰυϱιαϰὸς ἄνθϱωπος, zu dem der andere ϰυϱιαϰὸν σῶμα gehört, zu wenig differenziert untersucht und dargestellt worden ist. Die meisten Forscher haben sich mit der Feststellung einer undifferenzierten Wortverwendung begnügt oder vorausgesetzt, daß ϰ.α. einen einheitlichen Bedeutungsgehalt habe. Darum führen auch verschiedene Versuche, mit Hilfe des Vorkommens dieses Ausdrucks Echtheits- oder Verfasserfragen zu lösen, kaum zu brauchbaren Ergebnissen.

One of the most memorable and hideous scenes in Njáls saga is the death of the apostate viking chief Bróðir. According to the account of the battle of Clontarf in the saga, after the Irish forces had won the victory most of Brian Boru's bodyguard left the king in order to pursue the survivors. Bróðir, who had been hiding in the woods near the battlefield, saw that the king was relatively unprotected, and took the opportunity to break through the line of men who were protecting King Brian and kill him.

The Gregorian reform of the eleventh century mounted a massive attack on lay control over churches and church appointments, yet the degree to which this attack succeeded in attaining its objectives varied from country to country. Local conditions and personalities were important in determining the outcome of the struggle over investiture and other related questions, but neither side achieved a complete victory, because the final agreements between clerical and lay leaders were a compromise which produced the usual mixture of satisfaction and disappointment. The church gained the most substantial victory, for the smothering stranglehold of the laity over the church and churchmen was broken, nevermore to be restored in the Middle Ages. Increased spiritual freedom for the church in subsequent centuries resulted from the struggle of the mid-eleventh century. Nevertheless, the church had not broken completely from its close ties with the world of feudalism. If bishoprics, abbeys, and parish churches were not feudal possessions of kings and nobles, laymen still retained many rights reminiscent of the earlier days when laymen claimed a proprietary right over the churches in their areas. The purpose of this paper is to consider one of these remnants of earlier days: the right of regalia I will examine the right of regalia, temporal and spiritual, together with some related institutions during the reigns of St. Louis and Philip III of France.

Eadmer of Canterbury, companion for many years and biographer of St. Anselm of Canterbury, is best known for his two intimate records of Anselm's episcopate and personality: the Historia Novorum in Anglia and the Vita Anselmi. He is also the author of various devotional works, among them a minor classic on the Immaculate Conception, and of several saints' lives. As a hagiographer he recorded the lives and miracles of saints whose relics were preserved in his house, Christ Church, Canterbury, or the priory of the Holy Trinity, as it was known in the Middle Ages. Apart from his longer lives of St. Wilfrid, St. Oda, St. Dunstan, and St. Oswald, Eadmer wrote some shorter hagiographical works, one of them on Bregwine, archbishop of Canterbury in the eighth century. The life of Bregwine has never been printed in its entirety. It is my purpose in the following pages to edit the complete text of this work.

The initial date chosen for this survey is the beginning of the publication of the Journal of the History of Ideas in 1940; the final date, 1952, is that of the appearance of A Syntopicon of Great Books of the Western World. These two events mark the two principal directions in which the method of the historical study of ideas has moved on this continent: first toward the analytical study of ‘unit ideas’ as defined by Arthur O. Lovejoy (especially in The Great Chain of Being, 1936), who is also the intellectual father of the Journal of the History of Ideas; secondly toward the synthetic ‘recording’ of the main currents and aspects of the ideological tradition of the West in its entirety, unity, and continuity, as aimed at by the Great Books program of Robert M. Hutchins, Mortimer J. Adler, and their collaborators.

Henry Ill's absolutist pretensions made his conduct of English foreign affairs almost as personal as his domestic policy. But since the heir of John Lackland was chronically dependent on others for ideas, there remain the questions as to (1) how much of the mercurial king's policy was his own or that of his advisers and (2) whether Henry selected his counsellors from that class of administrative clerks who were ‘most dangerous to the welfare of the state’ because they encouraged their master's foreign adventures. Or, were these men, as the executors of the king's personal designs, committed to carry out a course of action ‘dramatically opposite to the interests of the [Angevin] kingdom’ as interpreted by the barons of the realm?