D. 26 - Hope
Division of the text
After the Master has considered faith, here in the second place he considers hope. And this is divided into two parts:
in the first, he considers hope;
in the second, he shows in which people faith is found, at after these matters, it remains to investigate whether faith and hope were in Christ. (Sent. III. 26. 4 (94). 1.)
Concerning the first, he does two things:
first, he considers hope in itself;
second, hope in relation to faith, at just like faith, so hope too concerns invisible things. (Sent. III. 26. 2 (92). 1.)
Again, he does two things with regard to this:
first, he shows the convergence between faith and hope;
second, the difference, at and yet faith is distinguished from hope. (Sent. III. 26. 2 (92). 1, citing Augustine, Enchiridion de fide, spe et caritate, ch. 2 (CCSL 46; PL 40:234).)
After these matters, it remains to investigate whether faith and hope were in Christ. (Sent. III. 26. 4 (94). 1.) Here he shows who can have faith.
And concerning this he does two things:
first, he inquires whether there was faith or hope in Christ;
second, whether faith or hope existed in the ancient patriarchs while they were in limbo, at but as to the fathers of old . . . it can be said not incongruously that they had the virtue of faith and hope. (Sent. III. 26. 5 (95). 1.)
Here two things are investigated:
first, hope as an emotion; (Q. 1.)
second, hope as a virtue. (Q. 2.)
Question 1
The emotion of hope
With regard to the first we will ask five things:
first, whether hope is an emotion;
second, where it is;
third, the difference between it and other emotions;
fourth, whether it is one of the four principal emotions;
fifth, whether it could exist in the intellective part.
Article 1
Whether hope is an emotion
To the first we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST I-II.25.3; 40.2, 3.) It seems that hope is not an emotion—that is, a passion.
Obj. 1: For hope is expectation. But expectation means immobility. Therefore, since every emotion consists in motion, it seems that hope is not an emotion.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, opposites are in the same genus. But the Philosopher divides hope from memory in the Physics 7, (Aristotle, Physics 7.3, 247a9–11; Aquinas, In Physic., bk. 7, lect. 6, n. 4.) when he is dividing the actions of each against each other. Therefore, since memory is not an emotion, hope will not be an emotion either.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, the word “expect” comes from the word spectare, to look at. But to look at something is to see it. Therefore, since seeing is not an animal passion, if we are speaking properly about passions of the soul, it seems that hope, which is expectation, is not a passion.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, a passion of the soul is in the sensitive part, as the Philosopher says in the Physics 7. (Aristotle, Physics 7.3, 248a8–10; Aquinas, In Physic., bk. 7, lect. 6, n. 7.) But hope, since it is about a future good, cannot be in the sensitive part of the soul, because the senses only concern the present. Therefore, hope is not a passion.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, nothing is passively worked upon unless what is acting is present. But hope is not about present things, but future ones.
On the contrary, hope is divided against fear. But fear is an emotion. Therefore, hope is as well.
Furthermore, hope pertains to the appetitive power, because it has the good for its object. But the movement of the appetitive part is called a passion of the soul because delight and grief follow upon it, which is characteristic of passions, as it says in the Ethics 2. (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 2.3, 1105a3–7.) Therefore, the same conclusion as above.
Furthermore, past and present do not diversify a genus. But joy, which is about a present good, is in the genus of passions. Therefore, hope, which is about a future good, is as well.
I answer that, as was said before in Distinction 15, (In III Sent., d. 15, q. 2, a. 1, qa. 1, sed contra, and resp. 1.) every activity of those powers of the soul that are reduced to act by their objects, such as the potential intellect, the senses, and the appetites, can be called a passion. However, properly speaking a passion is in the activities of the sensitive part's appetite. As Damascene says, (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 22 (PG 94:939).) a passion is the movement of the appetitive sensible power, which comes from the imagination of a good or an evil.
Now, hope means the extension of the desire toward what is desirable. However, it is found not only in humans, but also in the other animals, which is seen in the fact that animals are found to work for the sake of some future good they deem possible. For example, birds make a nest for the sake of raising their young—and they would not do anything for the sake of an end unless they considered that end as possible for them, for there is no natural desire for impossible things. In the same way, it is clear that one animal does not attack another unless from a hope of victory.
Thus it is clear that hope is in the desire of the sensitive part, which is common to us and animals; and thus it follows that it is a passion.
Reply Obj. 1: The appetitive part has two kinds of movement: pursuit and flight. Now, hope’s object, which is the difficult and arduous good, is of a nature to move the appetite to pursuit by reason of its goodness, but to move it to flight by reason of its difficulty. However, the latter movement is held back by hope. This is why hope includes the first movement, in which the character of a passion is preserved, while it brings a steadfastness that gets rid of the second movement, which is flight.
Reply Obj. 2: Hope is not distinguished from memory as to its essence, but as to the effect that is common to memory and hope, which is delight. And so it does not follow that they would share in the same genus.
Reply Obj. 3: Names are often imposed on hidden things from their signs; for example, essential differences are named from accidentals. Now, the sign of someone steadfastly extending his desire toward something desired is usually that he frequently directs his sight toward it, in order to see if he can approach it from any side. And this is why this disposition of steadiness with movement is called expectation.
Reply Obj. 4: Animals understand the nature of what is beneficial and what is harmful, not by reason’s investigation, as with humans, but by an instinct of nature, which is called an estimation. In the same way they also know something that will be in the future without understanding the notion of future, not by comparing the present and the future, but by a natural instinct, according to which they do what needs to be done either from an interior impulse or an exterior impulse of nature—for example, when they do something to take precautions about future events that depend on the movement of the sky, as though impelled by it. This is why people can sometimes know something about future events from animals’ activities, as sailors know about a coming storm from the movement of dolphins descending from the surface of the water; and ants store grain in their holes when rain is coming.
Reply Obj. 5: What is future according to reality can be present in imagination. And since it is the nature of the good to move the desire when it is imagined or understood, an emotion can follow in the desire if good is present in either way, as it says in On the Soul 3. (Aristotle, On the Soul 3.10, 433b11; Aquinas, Sent. De anima, bk. 3, lect. 15, n. 830.)
Article 2
Whether hope exists in any other power than the concupiscible power
To the second we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST I-II.23.1; 40.2.) It seems that hope does not exist in any other power than the concupiscible power.
Obj. 1: For the arduous or difficult does not add any character to the desirable over and above the good, because difficult has the character of something to be fled rather than desired, while something arduous does not differ from a non-arduous good except by more or less. But the concupiscible power concerns the good that is desired. Therefore, since the object of hope is the arduous or difficult good, it seems that hope is in the concupiscible power.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, just as the will concerns the desirable good in the intellective part, the concupiscible power concerns the good in the sensitive part. But in the intellective part all that pertains to the desire is the will. Therefore, in the sensitive part, all that pertains to desire is the concupiscible power. And thus, since hope pertains to desire, as was said, it seems that it is in the concupiscible power.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, joy and delight are in the concupiscible power. But hope causes joy, as Romans 12:12 says, rejoice in your hope; as well as delight, as the Philosopher says in the Physics 7. (Aristotle, Physics 7.3, 247a9–13; Aquinas, In Physic., bk. 7, lect. 6, n. 4.) Therefore, hope is in the concupiscible power.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, present and future do not differentiate the appetitive powers, since they are incidental to what is desired insofar as it is desirable. But joy and hope only differ in that joy is about a good that is present, while hope is about a future good. Therefore, since joy is in the concupiscible power, hope will also be there.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, it belongs to the same thing to be moved toward a terminus and then to rest in that terminus. But hope includes movement toward a certain terminus, which causes a person to rejoice when he has attained it. Therefore, since joy is in the concupiscible power, hope will also be in the concupiscible power.
On the contrary, the concupiscible power, speaking of the essential meaning, is not ordered to something arduous; rather, the irascible power is. Therefore, since the object of hope is the arduous, hope must not be in the concupiscible power but in the irascible power.
Furthermore, contraries are in the same subject. But fear is opposed to hope. Therefore, since fear is not in the concupiscible power, but in the irascible power—like daring, which is also opposed to fear—it seems that hope is also in the irascible appetite.
Furthermore, anger cannot exist without hope, as Avicenna comments in the Six Books on the Natural. (Avicenna, Liber de anima seu Sextus de naturalibus.) This is why when there is no hope of vindication for an offense (like when someone is offended by a king), there is not anger, but rather hatred or fear. Therefore, since anger is not in the concupiscible power, neither is hope.
I answer that, strictly speaking, the passive powers differ according to how their natures are moved by different active forces. Now, the motive force proper to an appetitive power is the good apprehended. Thus, the appetites must also be diversified according to the different powers doing the apprehending. This could either be the rational appetite, which concerns the good apprehended according to reason or understanding, and so it is about good apprehended simply and in the universal; or the sensitive appetite, which concerns the good apprehended by the sense powers, so that it is about a particular good, and as it is now. But a passive power does not extend to more things than the power of its agent, for, as the Commentator says in his commentary on the Metaphysics, (Averroes, Commentary on the Metaphysics, bk. 9.) there is no passive power in nature without a natural active power that corresponds to it. For this reason, the sensitive appetite only extends to those goods that the sense apprehension extends to.
Now, as Dionysius says in On the Divine Names, (Pseudo-Dionysius, On the Divine Names, ch. 7, n. 3 (PG 3:871).) divine wisdom joins the ends of first things to the beginnings of the second things, for every lower nature at its height touches the lowest part of the nature above it, according to which it participates in something of the higher nature, although imperfectly. Therefore in the sense apprehension, as well as in the sense appetite, there is something in which the senses touch reason.
For when an animal imagines the forms apprehended by its senses, this belongs to the nature of sense apprehension in itself; but when it apprehends those ideas that do not fall under the senses, like friendship, hatred, and the like, this belongs to the sensitive part according as it touches reason. Therefore, in humans, this part, which is more perfect because of being united to a rational soul, is called particular reason, because it compares particular thoughts. But in other animals, since it does not compare but rather is able to apprehend ideas like this by natural instinct, it is not called reason, but estimation.
In the same way, on the part of the appetite, when an animal desires those things that appeal to its senses, causing delight, it is according to the sensitive nature, and it pertains to the concupiscible power. But when it tends toward something good that does not cause delight in the senses, but is rather bound to cause sadness by reason of its difficulty, as when an animal desires to fight with another animal, or to attempt anything else difficult, this is in the sensitive appetite according as the sensitive nature touches the intellective nature; and this pertains to the irascible power.
And so, just as estimation is a different power from the imagination, the irascible power is a different power from the concupiscible power. For the concupiscible object is the good that is the kind to cause delight in the senses, while the irascible object is the good that contains difficulty. And because what is difficult is not desirable in that respect, but either in its relation to something desirable, or by reason of the goodness that is mingled with the difficulty, comparing one thing with another and distinguishing the ideas of difficulty and goodness in one and the same thing belongs to reason. This is why it properly belongs to the rational appetite to desire that good; but it involves the sensitive power to the extent that it touches the rational by a certain imperfect participation—not by comparing and distinguishing, but by a natural instinct moving toward it, just as was said about estimation. And this also makes it clear that the irascible power is higher than the concupiscible, and closer to reason. This is why a person who is incontinent because of concupiscence, using no law, is more base than the hot-tempered person, who uses laws, but wrongly, as it says in the Ethics 7. (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 7.6, 1149a24.) And this is also why the vices that are in the concupiscible power are more disgraceful than those that are in the irascible power.
Therefore, from these things it is plain to see which passions are in the irascible power and which are in the concupiscible. For every passion that is understood as desiring the good or fitting thing simply, is in the concupiscible faculty, like love and delight and the like, as well as their opposites. But every passion that is understood as desiring a good accompanied by difficulty, is in the irascible faculty; and this includes all those that combine good or bad with a certain specific quantity, like anger, which does not arise from every injury, but from those that a person can revenge, yet it does not have an easy revenge. Fear is also not about every evil, but about evils that cannot be withstood, or that it is hard to withstand. Now, hope implies a movement of the desire toward a certain good commensurate with the one desiring, for it is not about a good so great that it cannot be attained, nor about one so small that it can be had for nothing, but about something that is possible, yet difficult to have, which is why it is called, “arduous.”
Thus it is evident that hope, as a passion, is in the irascible faculty.
Reply Obj. 1: Difficult or arduous adds a certain specific character of goodness, namely, a certain preciousness arising from the fact that it cannot be had easily, as they say, “everything rare is costly.”
Reply Obj. 2: The rational nature in itself is able to compare and distinguish. Therefore, the good that is desirable of itself, or that needs comparing and distinguishing to be desired, moves the rational appetite according to the nature of rational apprehension. Therefore, the rational appetite is not diversified by this, but it is called the will universally. But this is not the case with the sensitive appetite, as is clear from what has been said.
Reply Obj. 3: Insofar as hope is about something difficult and arduous, it does not delight a person, but rather afflicts him, since that fact makes it far away. But to the extent that it is about a good that is possible to acquire, it does cause delight. For anything that is in potentiality already has the beginnings of its being; and in the same way, anything that is apprehended as possible to gain is apprehended as already present in a certain way. And this is how hope causes delight, and this delight is not in the concupiscible faculty, but in the irascible faculty: for every power desires what is best suited to it, and is delighted by it, as will be said further on. (Below, d. 27, q. 1, a. 2.) Now the arduous good, by the fact that it is possible to gain, is most suited to the irascible power, and that is why it tends toward it.
Reply Obj. 4: The object of the irascible power is the difficult good; however, something is no longer difficult once it is possessed—only when it is not possessed. And this is why all the emotions of the irascible power, like fear and hope, have to do with the future.
Reply Obj. 5: The object of the irascible faculty is the difficult good, which sometimes has its goodness from an ordering to something else. For this reason, in the act or movement of the irascible faculty, there is a double terminus.
The first is the proximate terminus, according to which it terminates in its proper object, as when it achieves victory. And since the proper object of the irascible power contains difficulty, it is not pleasurable to a person simply speaking, but it is pleasurable to him according to this power, whose act is perfect by reaching its proper object, which has already been attained; for example, when someone is pleased by the fact that he has won, although simply speaking, he endures suffering from his wounds, and sadness from exhaustion. And for these reasons, this delight does not properly belong to the concupiscible faculty but to the irascible, like the delight that is proper in the act of seeing is proper to sight itself. The second terminus is the final end, toward which the proper object is ordered. Now, this is something that is well-suited and pleasurable to oneself, as when an animal has defeated another animal, it enjoys itself in sensual delight as much as it wants, and this delight pertains to the concupiscible faculty. For the irascible is ordered to the preservation of the concupiscible, so that the appropriate delight will not be prevented by some difficulty intervening. And therefore Damascene says (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 16 (PG 94:931).) that anger is the rash defender of concupiscence; and for the same reason, the Philosopher also says, in History of Animals 8, (Aristotle, History of Animals 8.12, 596b20.) that animals fight each other for the sake of food and sex, for the concupiscible appetite is especially concerned with these delights.
Article 3
Whether hope differs from the other passions, such as fear, etc.
To the third we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST I-II.23.2–4; 25.1; 40.1; De spe, a. 1; Compendium theol., pt. 2, ch. 7.) It seems that hope does not differ from other passions, or emotions.
Obj. 1: For hope implies expectation. But every movement of desire seems to be expectation, which means nothing other than stretching forward toward something good. Therefore, hope is not distinguished from other emotions that pertain to desire.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, the good expected is the object of hope, which is expectation. But the good expected constitutes concupiscence, as Damascene says. (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 12 (PG 94:930).) Therefore, concupiscence is the same thing as hope.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, it is the same movement that leaves the starting point, which also arrives at the ending point. But the movement of desire away from evil is called fear, while the movement of desire toward good is called hope. Therefore, hope and fear are the same thing.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, in the same way that white and black are related to sight, good and evil are related to desire. But black and white do not differentiate the visual power or its passions. Therefore, neither do good and evil differentiate the passions of the desiring faculty; and thus, fear and hope are not different emotions, although they are about good and evil.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, as was said in the body of the previous article, hope means the desire’s stretching forth toward something arduous. But this same thing is found in daring, boldness or confidence, and anger. Therefore, all those are the same as hope.
On the contrary, when things have different definitions, they are different. But the definition of hope does not apply to other emotions. Therefore, hope is distinguished from other emotions.
Furthermore, when things are the same, one cannot exist without the other. But hope can exist without the others. Therefore, hope is different from the others.
Furthermore, the difference in movements comes from their terminuses. But hope does not have the same terminus or object as the other emotions, because the good hoped for is the object of hope, but not of other passions, strictly speaking. Therefore, hope is different from other passions.
I answer that the passions of the soul that we are talking about are distinguished first by the fact that some include good and evil absolutely; and these pertain to the concupiscible faculty. But others include a certain measure of good or evil, as is clear from what has been said; and these pertain to the irascible faculty. Therefore, of emotions existing in the concupiscible faculty, some imply a condition of the concupiscible towards its object—either its movement with respect to its object or the impression left on it by the presence of the object. Now, since the object of desire is good or evil, any one of these can be divided by these two things. For example, love conveys a relation of the concupiscible faculty toward the good, and hatred toward an evil, because love sees the beloved as connatural and in some way one with the lover, while hatred does the opposite. And since this relation is completed by the object’s presence, love, according to its perfect account, is of something had by the lover, as Augustine says. (Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, Ps 118, serm. 8, para. 4–5 (CCSL 40; PL 37:1518).) Now, the movement of the concupiscible toward good is called desire; the movement away from evil does not have a name, but let us call it flight. The impression left behind in the concupiscible power by the presence of the good is called delight or joy, but the presence of an evil is called grief or pain. Now, the way that grief and pain differ was said above; (See In III Sent., d. 15, q. 2, a. 3, resp. 2.) and sensible delight and joy differ in the same way. But happiness means the effect of joy in the enlargement of the heart, which is why the word laetitia, happiness, is like latitia, wideness. Meanwhile, exultation is the effect of joy in outward signs, as it is the interior joy bursting out, and leaping forth, in a certain way.
Now, the irascible faculty is given to animals for the sake of the concupiscible, so that the concupiscible may not fail in its act. For this reason, irascible passions have their origin in concupiscible passions. The irascible helps the concupiscible in both matters of good and evil. It helps in good so that the pleasurable good that befits the concupiscible may be pursued without being hindered by difficulty; and in evil, it helps repel the difficult harm. This is why an irascible passion arises from a concupiscible passion either caused by the apprehension of the desirable, or by its presence.
If it happens in the first way, it is either in regard to the good, and then, it is either a good possible to attain which is to be tended toward, and this is hope; or else it is the apprehension of good not possible which must be given up, and that is despair. Otherwise, it is in regard to an evil, and this either of a evil able to be repelled, which must be resisted, and then it is daring; or it is an evil not possible to be repelled, which must be fled, and that is fear.
However, if the passion comes from the presence of the desirable, this cannot be with respect to the good, for when the concupiscible is fulfilled by its own delight, it does not need the irascible, for it has no difficulty in this. But it does exist with regard to an evil needing to be repelled that it has difficulty, and this is what causes anger, if the evil is possible to repel; otherwise, the passion stays in the concupiscible faculty. And this is why anger does not have an opposite emotion, neither according to the contrariety of good and evil, like joy and sadness, which contrariety is proper to the passions of the concupiscible faculty; nor according to the contrariety of possible and not possible, like hope and despair, which is the contrariety proper to the passions of the irascible faculty. However, it should be known that anger is caused not only by an unfitting thing being present, as when someone is angered by being wounded, but also by an unfitting thing being sometimes present, as when someone is angered at injuries inferred; as well as by the apprehension of having something unfitting. And thus, anger is caused in the first instance by pain, and in the second, by grief, as Damascene says. (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 16 (PG 94:931).) Therefore, this is how the passions of the soul are divided by essential differences.
The names of the passions are also found to be differentiated by incidental differences, which are incidental to the passion itself, like its intensity; or else they are from its object. In the first way, concupiscence names an intensity of desire; jealousy names an intense form of love, not allowing any sharing of the beloved; abomination is an intensity of hatred. Exultation means an intensity of joy, such that it bursts forth in general outward signs; and hilarity does the same as to the signs that are shown in the face; and merriment in the signs that are shown also in actions. Meanwhile, acedia is an intense form of grief, to the extent that it paralyzes a person, impeding action. This is why Damascene says (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 14 (PG 94:931).) that it is a grief that oppresses, that is, paralyzes, or achos, grief, in that it prevents speaking, because, as Damascene says, it takes away one’s voice. Now, presumption is an intensified hope, while daring is an excess of confidence in undertaking terrible things; and fury is an intense form of anger.
Now since the proper and per se object of these passions is the apparent good or evil, things that are related incidentally to good or evil cause incidental differences in the passions on the part of the object. For example, there is a grief arising from what seems an evil to the one grieved, but it happens to be good or evil for someone else. Therefore, if this grief is about an evil that is evil for another person, and it is apprehended as evil to the person feeling grieved, then it is mercy. But if it is good for another person and apprehended as an evil to oneself, then it is envy, which is sadness about the prosperity of good people; or it is enmity, which is sadness about the success of bad people, as it says in the Ethics 2. (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 2.7, 1108b1.) In the same way, fear can also be distinguished: for when a difficult evil overcomes the faculty of the fearful person, there are two ways it happens: either on the part of the evil itself, or on the part of the person who fears. In the first way, it happens to be called baseness; and this is either in itself, and then it is shame about the base act; or it is in opinion, and then it is embarrassment, which is fear of reproach, as Damascene says: (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 15 (PG 94:931).) either shame for the baseness of the fault, or embarrassment for the baseness of the penalty. Now, on the part of the person fearing, the incidental differences of fear are are taken in this way: for the terrible thing may exceed the faculties of the fearful person in acting, and then it is sloth or indolence, which is the fear of future activity, as Damascene says. Or else it exceeds his faculty in knowing, and this can happen three ways: either because of the depth of the thing to be known, and then it is wonder, which is the fear arising from the imagination of something great; or because of his being unaccustomed, and then it is stupor, which is the fear arising from the imagination of something unfamiliar; or because of uncertainty, and then it is agony, which is the fear of misfortune, and this is the same as trepidation or doubtfulness. Thus it is clear how hope differs from the other passions, and also how all the other passions differ from each other.
Reply Obj. 1: As was said above, (Above,* a. 1, ad 1, 3.)* expecting entails stretching one’s desire toward something with a steadfastness that prevents flight or withdrawal. Now this steadfastness arises from the difficulty of the thing that the desire tends toward, because it is not easily to be had, for what is easily obtained is acquired without delay. And since the good with difficulty is properly the object of the irascible faculty, expecting properly pertains to the irascible’s tending toward some good. However, it is related to hope as common to proper, inasmuch as hope adds a sureness about the expectation.
Reply Obj. 2: Damacene is speaking broadly, for he takes the expected good for the good that is not yet had, which is common to both concupiscence and hope.
Reply Obj. 3: Movement from the starting point and movement to the ending point are sometimes contrary, sometimes the same, and sometimes separate things. For if the starting terminus and the ending terminus are contrary to each other, the movement is contrary, like going from black to white. But if the starting point and the ending point are the same thing, then the movements are the same, like moving from white to white. But if they are different, not contraries, then the movements are separate and different, like moving from white to hot. Hope and fear are related to each other in this last way, for the contrariety that is found in the irascible power is according to easy and difficult, or else possible and impossible, but not good and evil, because that is the focus of the concupiscible power. Now if the proper nature of the irascible object were considered, then fear would be contrary to hope, because fear moves away from the difficult, while hope moves toward it. But if the nature of the difficult were considered, then they would be sepearate things, because fear moves away from something difficult in the genus of evils, while hope moves toward the difficult in the genus of goods.
Reply Obj. 4: The passions (Passions in the intellect mean thoughts and ideas, called passiones in the sense of something received. Appetitive passions are reactions to the good or evil in things themselves. Thus cognitive “passions” such as the thought of black and white, or hot and cold, can coexist without contrariety in the mind, while the appetitive faculties cannot seek something and its contrary at the same time.) of the cognitive powers are from things according to their spiritual existence. And since contraries do not have contrariety according to this kind of being, contrary passions are not caused by contraries in the cognitive powers. But the appetitive passions come from things according to their own natural being, because appetite is concerned with good and evil which are in things, as the Philosopher says in the Metaphysics 6. (Aristotle, Metaphysics 6.4, 1027b26; Aquinas, In Metaph., bk. 6, lect. 4, n. 1230.) And for this reason, it is when they have contrariety according to their natural being that they cause contrary passions.
Reply Obj. 5: Since something arduous or difficult is the proper object of the irascible, the differences causing opposition in the irascible passions are whether the difficulty overcomes this faculty or does not overcome it, and whether it is a difficult good or evil. Thus confidence or boldness is the movement of the irascible faculty when it judges that the difficult will not exceed the faculty, which hope does specifically about goods, while daring does about evils, except that daring sometimes carries this to excess, and so it is sometimes taken into the evil. However, when the difficult is judged to surpass the faculty, the desire’s movement toward good or evil is diffidence. If the unconquerable difficult is a good, this specifically causes despair; if it is an evil, then fear. Meanwhile, anger is a passion composed of daring or pain, along with hope, as is clear from what was said above.
Article 4
Whether hope is the principal passion, or whether love, desire, daring, or repentance is
To the fourth we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST I-II.25.4; 84.4.ad 2; II-II.141.7.ad 3; De veritate, q. 26, a. 5.) It seems that hope is not the principal passion.
Obj. 1: For love changes the affections more vehemently than hope, which is why it makes a person go outside of himself, as Dionysius says in On the Divine Names. (Pseudo-Dionysius, On the Divine Names, ch. 4, n. 13 (PG 3:711).) But love is not listed as one of the principal passions. Therefore, neither should hope be.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, desiring is about future goods, just as hope is. But desire, or concupiscence, is not listed as a principal passion. Therefore, neither should hope be.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, a name is always given from what is more principal. But the irascible faculty is named from ira, anger. Therefore, it is more principal than hope, which is in the irascible power.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, the object of the irascible is the difficult and arduous. But daring tends toward the arduous more than hope does, not less. Therefore, rashness is more principal than hope.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, just as hope has to do with the future, so repentance has to do with the past. But the past is more certain than the future. Therefore, since repentance is not listed as a principal passion, neither should hope be listed as a chief passion.
On the contrary, Boethius says in the Consolation of Philosophy: banish joys, banish fear, and put hope to flight, nor let sorrow be here. (Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy, bk. 1, poem 7 (PL 63:657).) And thus hope is enumerated with the other chief passions.
Furthermore, in a certain way hope is opposed to fear. But fear is a chief emotion. Therefore, hope is as well.
Furthermore, an emotion that is in the concupiscible power about good, is principal; for example, joy. Therefore, by the same reasoning, a passion that is about good in the irascible faculty is principal. But this is hope. Therefore, hope is a chief passion.
I answer that being a principal passion consists in two things. One is on the part of the object, such that the passion follows according to the character and suitability of the object, namely, that it pursues good and flees evil. The second is on the part of the passion itself, such that its movement was completed as much as possible according to its genus.
And therefore, in the concupiscible power there are two principal passions, joy and sadness, because the movement of the concupiscible terminates in the very thing that, being united to it, causes joy or sadness. And again, good is bound to cause joy by its very nature, since it is fitting; and evil causes sadness, since it is harmful.
In the irascible faculty there are also only two, fear and hope, for in these two the movement of the irascible is completed as much as possible in its genus, which is why they do not entail a complete movement simply speaking, but only as far as possible in the genus of the irascible. For the movement of the irascible, as the kind of thing it is, is not completed in something being present, as was said about the concupiscible in the preceding article. Rather, it is completed in a sureness of inclination with respect to its object. This is why fear and hope have a certain sure inclination to their objects: fear, in not being able to flee evil, hope in being able to attain good. This is also why boldness is not called a principal passion, for it does not include this sureness. Likewise, too, fear results from evil as evil, because by its very nature it is to be fled, while hope arises from the nature of good as good, because by its very nature it is to be looked for.
And for these reasons the number of principal passions is usually taken in this way. For either they have to do with the present, in which the movement of the concupiscible is completed, or with the future, on which the movement of the irascible is fixed, inasmuch as it is difficult. But if it is the first kind, either it is about good, and then it is joy; or about evil, and then it is sadness. If it is the second kind, either it is about good, and then it is hope; or about evil, and then it is fear.
Reply Obj. 1: Love does not name the terminus of the movement of the concupiscible, since it does not arise from union with the thing, as delight and joy do.
Reply Obj. 2: The concupiscible movement can terminate further in the future; and this is why concupiscence and desire are not principal passions. However, the movement of the irascible does not—it terminates in the near future; and this is why hope and fear are principal passions.
Reply Obj. 3: The power that hope is in takes its name from anger, because it is the final one of its passions, since a name usually comes from the things that are last in something. However, it is not principal, because its movement is toward the harmful—not as something to be fled, which belongs to the character of evil and the harmful, but as something to be attacked.
Reply Obj. 4: The same thing is to be said about daring. For fear, which entails fleeing, results from the nature of evil, since of itself it is something to be fled not to be attacked, as daring does. And this is why it is not a principal passion.
Reply Obj. 5: Repentance is contained under sadness. And it should be known that all the emotions mentioned can be reduced to these principal passions: either as species to genus, as wonder is related to fear; or as the imperfect to the perfect, as concupiscence is to joy; or as effect to cause, and as the participating to participated, as daring and anger are to hope. For hope tends toward the arduous good, which in itself is such as should be tended toward. Now, daring and anger tend toward confronting an arduous harm, which is not such that it should be tended toward, but rather fled. However, they do tend toward this inasmuch as it takes part in some character of good: its victory. And this is the way that daring and anger participate in hope, as something that is per accidens participates in what is per se.
Article 5
Whether hope can be in the intellectual part
To the fifth we proceed thus. (Parallels: above, a. 2, ad 1; ST II-II.18.1; De spe, a. 2.) It seems that hope cannot exist in the intellectual part.
Obj. 1: For the passions only exist in the sensitive part, as the Philosopher says in the Physics 7. (Aristotle, Physics 7.3, 248a8; Aquinas, In Physic., bk. 7, lect. 6, n. 7.) But hope is a passion. Therefore, it is in the sensitive part.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, those things that are in the intellectual part belong to the soul in itself, without being held in common with the body. But hope does not belong to the soul in itself, but with its union to the body, for the same reason that joy and love do, as it says in On the Soul 1. (Aristotle, On the Soul 1.1, 403a17; Aquinas, Sent. De anima, bk. 1, lect. 2, n. 22.) Therefore, hope is not in the intellectual part.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, the subject of hope is the irascible power. But the irascible power is not in the intellectual part, but in the sensitive part that is called “spirit,” in On the Soul 3. (Aristotle, On the Soul 3.9, 432b6; Aquinas, Sent. De anima, bk. 3, lect. 14, nn. 802–807.) Therefore, since no passion goes outside its own subject, hope will never be in the rational power.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, as the Philosopher says in On Memory, (Aristotle, On Memory and Recollection 1, 450a14–18; Aquinas, Sent. De memoria, lect. 2, n. 320.) the memory is not in the intellectual part, for it is concerned with a determinate difference of time, namely, the past. But just as memory is concerned with the past, hope is concerned with the future. Therefore, hope cannot be in the intellectual part.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, in the intellectual part there are no contrary passions, for there is no contrary to the delight that exists in the intellect, as the Philosopher says in the Topics 1. (Aristotle, Topics 1.5, 106a9.) Therefore, since hope is a passion that is contrary to fear and despair, it seems that it cannot exist in the intellective part.
On the contrary, whatever is found commonly in God and in us concerning our soul’s activities pertains to the intellective part, which alone is immaterial, and like God in that. But delight does not only apply to us, but also to God, as it says in the Ethics 7, (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 7.14, 1154b26.) because he rejoices by one simple activity. Therefore, in us delight is also in the intellective part; and so, by the same reasoning, is hope, which is about future delight.
Furthermore, whatever remains in us after the separation of soul from body pertains to the intellectual part, which alone is separable, according to the Philosopher. (Aristotle, On the Soul 2.2, 413b26.) But hope does remain, for it existed in those patriarchs who were in limbo, as it says in the text. (Sent. III, 26.5(95).1.) Therefore, hope is in the intellectual part.
Furthermore, a passion pertains to whatever power its object pertains to. But the object of hope is the arduous good, which can also pertain to the intellective part. Therefore, hope can exist in the intellective part.
I answer that sense activities are more known to us than the activities of the intellective part, because our knowledge begins in the senses and reaches its terminus in the intellect. And because we come to know lesser-known things from the more known, the names of the sensitive part’s activities are transferred to the activities of the intellectual part, and even more from human things to divine things.
And this is evident in apprehensive activities, for what we hold by the intellect as present with certainty we are said to “feel” or to “see,” and we are said to “imagine” when we grasp the whatness of a thing in our intellect. And this is how it is with the other activities, although they are understood differently when they are said about the sense apprehension, which apprehends materially and in the particular, than about intellectual apprehension, which apprehends immaterially and in the universal. And this is also why some name is imposed on an intellectual activity, such as understanding, knowing, and the like, by which it is distinguished from sense activities.
Similarly, the names of activities of the sensual appetitive part are transferred to activities of the intellectual appetitive part, although in the sensitive part they exist by the mode of material passions, while in the intellectual part by the mode of simple non-material acts. And therefore, too, some names are imposed on the intellective appetite that distinguish it from others, for example, willing, choosing, and the like. Therefore, this is how hope names a certain material passion in the sensitive part, but in the intellective part it names a simple activity of the will tending immaterially toward something arduous.
Reply Obj. 1: Hope, insofar as it exists in the rational appetite—that is, the will—is not a passion, properly speaking, as is evident from what was said in Distinction 15. (In III Sent., d. 15, q. 2, a. 1, qa. 3, ad 2.)
Reply Obj. 2: The Philosopher is speaking there about those emotions as passions of the sensitive part, and thus they need the body essentially; or else, he speaks about them as they exist in the intellective part, which needs the body inasmuch as it receives from the senses or from sensitive power, as long as we are in the state of earthly wayfarers.
Reply Obj. 3: Some people distinguish a human irascible power from an animal irascible power, and the same way with the concupiscible power, and they say that the animal power is in the sensitive part, but the human one in the intellective part. But this is not true: for the rational appetite is not divided between irascible and concupiscible, as was said above. (Above, a. 2.) For this reason, the irascible appetite is called human, not by its essence, but by participation, as the Philosopher says in the Ethics 1, (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1.13, 1102b30.) and also Damascene says. (John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, bk. 2, ch. 12 (PG 94:927).) Thus, when it is objected that hope is in the irascible power, this is true of hope as a passion.
Reply Obj. 4: The movement of intellectual apprehension goes from things into the soul, and since in the intellectual soul something is received abstracted from all its material individuating conditions, no intellectual apprehension is concerned with any determinate time, although it could be about any time, for time is involved in composing and dividing, as it says in On the Soul 3. (Aristotle, On the Soul 3.6, 430b1; Aquinas, Sent. De anima, bk. 3, lect. 11, nn. 749–52.) And this is also why, since memory is a part of the image that is in the intellectual part, memory belongs to all times, as was said in Book I. (In I Sent., d. 3, a. 1, ad 2, and a. 4.) On the other hand, the movement of the appetite’s activity goes from the soul to the things, and therefore, since things in themselves fall under the here and now, the activity of the intellectual appetite can also be concerned with a certain time.
Reply Obj. 5: Delight, as was previously said, arises from two sources. One way is from the act itself that is appropriate to a power: and in this way, the intellect’s delight has no contrary. For since the thing understood is received in the intellect in an entirely immaterial way, it cannot inflict any injury on the intellect, as something sensed does corrupt the senses when it is extreme. And therefore, every act of the intellect is appropriate to the intellect, and delightful, no matter what it is that is understood; and this is why the delight of the intellect has no contrary. The other way that delight arises is from being united with the appropriate thing that the activity is about. And since what is understood can be fitting to the one who understands or unfitting, inasmuch as it is a certain kind of thing, although inasmuch as it is understood it is always fitting, this is how there can be a delight that is in the intellectual part, there can be a contrary sadness, which is not a passion, as was said.
Question 2
The virtue of hope
Next we investigate hope as a virtue; and concerning this there are five things to be asked:
first, whether hope is a virtue;
second, whether it is a theological virtue;
third, in what way it is related to the other theological virtues;
fourth, its certainty;
fifth, to whom it belongs to have hope.
Article 1
Whether hope is a virtue
To the first we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST II-II.17.1; De spe, a. 1.) It seems that hope is not a virtue.
Obj. 1: For hope is divided against fear, joy, and sadness. But none of these is included in the genus of virtues—in fact, sadness is included in the genus of vices, as acedia and envy, and also included among sacraments as penance; while joy is in the genus of fruits, as is clear from Galatians 5; and fear is in the genus of gifts, as Isaiah 11 says. Therefore, hope should also not be called a virtue.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, infused virtues are directed toward a certain arduous thing, which is eternal life, and acquired virtues toward something arduous, which is civil happiness or contemplative happiness. But the philosophers who discuss acquired virtues did not count hope as a virtue. Therefore, among theologians, hope should not be counted as a virtue.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, no virtue comes from merits, for God works virtue in us without us, as Augustine says. (Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, Ps 118, serm. 11, para. 6 (CCSL 40; PL 32:598).) But hope does come from our merits, as it says in the text. (Sent. III, 26.1(91).1.) Therefore, hope is not a virtue.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, no virtue is opposed to any good, because good is not contrary to good the way evil is to evil, as it says in the Categories. (Aristotle, Categories 11, 13b36–14a5.) But hope is opposed to fear, which is a good thing and praiseworthy. Therefore, hope is not a virtue.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, no virtue has an act that is done for the sake of being repaid, because virtue works good for its own sake. But hope has an act that is done for the sake of repayment, since it is intent upon a reward. Therefore, hope is not a virtue.
On the contrary, nothing leads to eternal life except virtue. But hope leads to eternal life, as is clear from Psalm 5:11, but let all who hope in thee rejoice, let them ever sing for joy. (For “hope in thee” the RSV says, “take refuge in thee.”) Therefore, hope is a virtue.
Furthermore, hope is closer to charity, which is the mother of all virtues, than faith is, because hope is in the affections. But faith is a virtue. Therefore, so is hope.
Furthermore, nothing is meritorious except an act of virtue. But hope’s act is meritorious, because it frees from confusion: in thee, O Lord, do I hope; let me never be put to shame (Ps 31:1). (For “hope” the RSV says “seek refuge.”) Therefore, hope is a virtue.
I answer that, as was said above, (Above, d. 23, q. 1, aa. 2, 3.) according to the customary way of speaking, virtue means a habit inclining one to an act. This is good in two ways: according to its fittingness to the power acting, and according to its object, which has the character of good insofar as it is an object of such an act.
Now, these two things are both in the act of hope. For since hope is in the desiring part, its object must be good under the account of good—and this is how hope’s act has goodness from the nature of its object. In the same way, hope also adds certainty to expectation, as is evident by the definition given in the text. (Sent. III, 26.1(91).1.) But certainty implies a determination toward the thing that is said to be certain. Therefore, since the hope’s certainty is about the good looked for, it includes a determination to the good. And what makes an act appropriate to a perfected power is that it has a determination toward its own good. For example, the act of knowledge determines the intellect toward the truth, which is the good of the intellect, but the act of opinion, which is of true and false, does not; for which reason, knowledge is a virtue but opinion is not, as it says in the Ethics 6. (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 6.3, 1139b17.)
Thus it is clear that hope should be called a virtue according to the customary way of speaking.
Reply Obj. 1: Hope, as a passion, is not a virtue, but only as it exists in the appetite of the intellectual part. But the names of the other passions cannot so appropriately be applied to virtues as hope can, because hope is said about an ordering to the good and thus involves a movement of desire toward good; and this has a certain resemblance to the intention and choice of the good that is required for any virtue. Now, fear is said about an ordering toward evil. But although drawing away from evil does pertain to virtue, nevertheless, the perfection of virtue does not consist in this, but rather in choosing the good. Meanwhile, joy and sadness have more to do with the impression of good and evil on the desire than the movement of desire toward them, and so they do not have a resemblance to the choice of virtue.
Reply Obj. 2: The kind of arduous thing that the acquired virtues order one toward is the end proportionate to a natural faculty, which is why nature on its own account is determined toward hoping for that end. For this reason, it does not need any habit superadded to it by which it is ordered toward it. But the arduous thing that is eternal life exceeds any faculty of nature. Therefore, since of itself nature is not determined to hope for it, it must be determined by an infused habit, and this habit is hope, which is a virtue.
Reply Obj. 3: There are many ways that hope is said. Sometimes it names a passion, and then it is not a virtue. Sometimes it names a habit inclining to an act of the will resembling the hope that is in the sensitive part as a passion, and then it is a virtue. Then, sometimes it names the act itself, and then it is an act of virtue. But sometimes it names the thing itself that is hoped for: awaiting our blessed hope (Tit 2:13); and then it is the object of a virtue. And sometimes it names the certainty that results from hope, as in, endurance . . . produces hope (Rom 5:4)—that is, the certainty of hope—and then it names a state of perfection in virtue, as to certainty of intention. Thus, the habit of hope that is a virtue does not proceed from merits, but the object, that is, the thing hoped for, is given in return for merits. And thus, too, the act of hope tends toward its own object on the presupposition of merits, and according to this it is said to come from merits by reason of its act.
Reply Obj. 4: The hope that is a virtue is not opposed to the fear that is a gift, because hope is extended toward God from the consideration of divine munificence, while fear means a shrinking back from the consideration of one’s own smallness. And since the shrinking back of fear and the extending forth of hope are not according to the same thing, they are not contraries.
Reply Obj. 5: Doing something for the sake of some temporal benefit causes an act to be for the sake of repayment, but doing it for the sake of eternal reward does not. For self-restraint is not sufficient for salvation, if a person is restrained only out of the love of modesty, as it says in the Book of Church Doctrine; (Book of Ecclesiastical Dogmas, ch. 31 (PL 42:1219); attributed to Gennadius of Marseilles.) and it is by the same reasoning with other human acts. Or it could be said that an act is said to be seeking repayment when it is done for the sake of reward, but not when it is about the reward itself. Therefore, although the act of hope is to look forward to heavenly beatitude, which is a reward, it does not look toward it for the sake of reward itself, but by the inclination of the habit, just as happens in the other virtues. And furthermore, it does not look forward to it inasmuch as it is a reward, but as the summit of some arduous thing, for it has God as it principal object.
Article 2
Whether hope is a theological virtue
To the second we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST I-II.62.3; II-II.17.5; De spe, a. 1, ad 6, 7.) It seems that hope is not a theological virtue.
Obj. 1: For every theological virtue has God as its object. But the object of the irascible faculty cannot be God, because since it is an appetite of the sensual part, it does not extend beyond sensible goods. Therefore, since hope pertains to the irascible appetite, it seems that hope is not a theological virtue.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, it says in Isaiah 30:15: in hope will be your fortitude. (RSV reads, “in trust shall be your strength.”) But fortitude is not a theological virtue, but a cardinal one. Therefore, so is hope—and particularly since they seem to have the same extremes, namely, timidity and daring.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, to expect something belongs to forbearance: expectation’s forbearance (Gal 5:22). (RSV gives “faithfulness” here; the Greek is pistis.) Likewise, it seems to belong to patience: but if we hope for what we do not see, we expect it with patience (Rom 8:25). Therefore, since hope is expectation, it seems that hope is the same as patience or forbearance, which are not theological virtues, and therefore neither is hope.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, it belongs to hope to tend toward the arduous. But this belongs to magnanimity, which strives the most toward the greatest thing. Therefore, hope is the same as magnanimity. But magnanimity is a moral virtue, not a theological one. Therefore, so is hope.
On the contrary, hope is divided from the other theological virtues by opposition: but now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three (1 Cor 13:13). Therefore, it is a theological virtue.
Furthermore, every virtue that has the last end for its object is a theological virtue. But hope does this, since it is the expectation of future heavenly beatitude. Therefore, hope is a theological virtue.
Furthermore, every moral virtue is about the passions, as it says in the Ethics 2. (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 2.3, 1104b9.) But this does not apply to hope. Therefore, it is not a moral virtue. Nor is it an intellectual virtue, because it does not pertain to the understanding, as was said before. Therefore, it is a theological virtue.
I answer that, by its own account, hope means the extending of desire toward something arduous that does not entirely exceed the faculties of the one hoping. For things that exceed and are apprehended as exceeding cause despair rather than hope. Thus it is according to the faculty for some arduous good that exists in someone that he has an inclination to that arduous thing. And therefore, for something arduous that is related to the faculty of the sensitive nature, the inclination of the sense appetite causes the hope that is a passion; but with the arduous that is related to the intellectual nature, its inclination causes the hope that is an act of the will.
But since there is something arduous that exceeds the faculties of nature, which a person can attain through grace, namely, God himself as our beatitude, the inclination toward this arduous good must happen by a certain superadded gift of grace, and that gift is the habit of hope. And since it has as its object God himself, it must be a theological virtue. And this is why, in the second definition of hope that the Master gives, (Sent. III, 26.1(91).1.) the whole nature of hope is expressed according as it is a theological virtue. For, as is clear from what has been said, expectation, properly speaking, means extending the desire toward something arduous, while certain denotes the completion, and as it were, the determination, of this extending; and in this the notion of hope is completed absolutely. Now, the object that makes hope a theological virtue is future beatitude. However, the faculty of attaining that end comes from grace and merit, whether grace is taken for divine liberality or for the gift of grace.
Reply Obj. 1: Some people say that even reason’s appetite is divided into irascible and concupiscible: and according to this opinion, the premise is false. But all the authors who distinguish irascible from concupiscible—whether saints or philosophers—include the irascible and concupiscible in the sensual appetite. Therefore, it should be said that the subject of hope, when it names a theological virtue, is not the irascible power but the will, whose act can be called hope; unless perhaps we called the will itself the irascible power, as having acts similar to the acts of the irascible power, but then irascible and concupiscible would not be different powers, but would name the same power, the will, according to different acts.
Reply Obj. 2: As was said above, (Above, q. 1, a. 3; a. 4, ad 5.) there are two kinds of extending toward something arduous: either extending toward a good in order to acquire it, and then, this extending is hope; or toward some arduous evil, in order to repel it, and then this extending is daring. And similarly, there are two kinds of drawing back from something arduous: either it is a good that is given up because of the difficulty, and that is despair; or an evil which is fled because of the difficulty, and that is fear.
And thus it is clear that hope is not a middle between daring and fear, but between presumption and despair. But fortitude, which has danger as its object, is between timidity and daring. And thus, hope and fortitude are not the same. Nor can fortitude be a theological virtue, because God, who is the object of a theological virtue, does not have the character of danger, although he does have the character of arduous.
But because things that are for the sake of an end are directed by that end, the theological virtues, which have the last end as their object, are not only active about the end for its own sake, but also as it is directive of other things that are for the end. Just as faith not only knows the first truth, but also other things that are manifest from the first truth, ordering toward it. This is why many things are also contained in the articles of the creed that pertain to created things. Likewise, too, charity does not only cause one to love God, but also one’s neighbor on account of God. Also, likewise, hope does not only cause us to tend toward God himself as something arduous to be obtained, but also as the source of hope in all arduous things, whether goods to be acquired, or evils to be overcome. Therefore, a person who has hope, hopes to attain God, and hopes to obtain through him all necessities, however difficult, and to repel through him all harms, however difficult.
And accordingly, hope is in a person as the principle of all activities that are ordered toward an arduous good, just as charity is principle of everything that tends toward a good, and faith of everything that pertains to understanding. Thus faith is in matters of grace like the understanding of principles in natural things and acquired virtues. And it is according to this that it is said, in hope will be your fortitude—not as though hope is fortitude itself, but because it is the principle of fortitude.
Reply Obj. 3: The expectation of patience is the expectation of divine help in danger, while the expectation of forbearance is the expectation of divine help in the endurance of an action tending toward some arduous good to be obtained. Thus, it is clear from what has been said that the expectation of patience and forbearance are participations in the expectation of hope, according as posterior virtues participate in something of prior ones. For example, all moral virtues participate in prudence, and all other virtues participate in a certain part of charity, namely, the desire for the highest good, for the sake of which they work.
Reply Obj. 4: Magnanimity is closer to hope than the other virtues mentioned, because it is also about the extension of desire toward some arduous good to be obtained. And therefore it is involved with the passion of hope and its opposites, so that there are three virtues in the irascible power, corresponding to the three kinds of passions. Magnanimity belongs to the genus of hope and the other passions surrounding it, which have the expected arduous good as their object; while fortitude is about fear and daring; and meekness is about anger. Nevertheless, magnanimity is not the same as the virtue of hope, because it is about the arduous things that exist in human affairs, not the arduous thing that is God. For this reason, it is not a theological virtue, but a moral one, participating in some part of hope.
Article 3
Whether hope is a virtue distinct from other virtues
Quaestiuncula 1
To the third we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST II-II.17.6; De spe, a. 3, ad 9.) It seems that hope is not a virtue distinct from the other theological virtues.
Obj. 1: For, virtues are distinguished by their acts and their objects. But hope is a looking forward to future beatitude, which is also the object of all the theological virtues. Therefore, hope is not distinguished from the other theological virtues.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, theological virtues order us directly to God. But a person is ordered sufficiently by knowing him and loving him, which is what faith and charity do. Therefore, hope is not distinct from the other two.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, the act of hope is to expect or to look forward. But looking forward pertains to faith, for we say in the Creed, I look forward to the resurrection of the dead. Therefore, hope does not differ from faith.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, it seems that it also does not differ from charity. For, hope is tending toward God, which is proper to charity. Therefore, hope does not differ from faith or charity.
On the contrary, in 1 Corinthians 13:13, hope is enumerated along with the other two. Therefore, it does differ from them.
Furthermore, hope in the will is called by its resemblance to the hope that is in the irascible appetite, as was said before. But the hope that is an irascible passion does differ from the knowledge that is faith and the love that is charity. Therefore, the hope that is in the will differs from faith and charity.
Quaestiuncula 2
Obj. 1: Moreover, it seems that hope cannot exist unless it is formed by charity. (Parallels: ST I-II.62.4; II-II.17.8; De caritate, a. 3, ad 15; De spe, a. 3.) For hope presupposes merit, as is clear from its definition. But merit cannot exist in someone who has unformed virtue. Therefore, hope cannot be unformed.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, by the very fact that one’s faith tends toward God, it is formed faith. But hope tends toward God. Therefore, hope is always formed.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, Augustine says (Augustine, The City of God, bk. 14, ch. 19, n. 1 (CCSL 48; PL 41:413).) that every affection comes from love. But hope is a kind of affection. Therefore, it comes from love. But everything that is from love is formed: because charity is the form of the other virtues. Therefore, hope is always formed.
On the contrary, just as there is a fear of eternal suffering, there is also a hope of eternal rewards. But fear can exist as both formed and unformed. Therefore, so can hope.
Furthermore, anyone who does not have hope is in despair. But anyone who sins mortally does not have formed hope. Therefore, if all hope were formed hope, anyone who sinned mortally would be in despair. But despair is the sin against the Holy Spirit. Therefore, if a person sinned mortally, he would commit the sin against the Holy Spirit, which is false.
Response to Quaestiuncula 1
I answer that, as was said above in Distinction 13, (In III Sent., d. 13, q. 1, a. 4, resp. 2.) the theological virtues are for ordering us to the final end. Now, for a person to begin to act for the sake of an end, he must first know that end, and second, he must desire it. But the will desires both possible and impossible things, and no one acts for something that is impossible to attain, although he may desire it; and for this reason, for the will to begin to act it must tend toward something as possible. And this inclination in the will, tending toward the eternal good as something possible to it by grace, is the act of hope. Thus, hope is something distinct from faith and charity: for faith causes knowledge of the end, inasmuch as it shows the end to be good, and thus the movement of charity arises. But inasmuch as it shows the end to be possible, the movement of hope arises—because faith is the foundation of all virtues, preceding them all in the natural order of acts.
Reply Obj. 1: The object of all the theological virtues is the same thing according to reality, but it differs according to notion: for, as it is the first truth, it is the object of faith; as it is the greatest good, it is the object of charity; as it is the highest of arduous things, it is the object of hope. And since beatitude names the most arduous thing, as the complete state of all goods combined, as Boethius says, (Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy, bk. 3, prose 2 (PL 63:724).) this is why beatitude is especially mentioned in the definition of hope. Now, habits and powers do not differ by their objects according to a real difference in object, but according to the different notions of the object, and these notions formally complete the object itself.
Reply Obj. 2: Those two are not sufficient for someone to begin to act for the end, as was said in the main body of this article.
Reply Obj. 3: Faith means looking forward as the origin of expectation, by showing that what is looked forward to is possible to acquire.
Reply Obj. 4: Tending toward the desirable belongs just as much to the irascible appetite as to the concupiscible appetite, but in different ways. For, tending toward a certain good as it is a good, simply, belongs to the concupiscible power, but tending toward something as arduous and difficult, belongs to the irascible power: and both hope and charity tend toward God in these different ways.
Response to Quaestiuncula 2
To the second question, it should be said that, as was said above, (Above, q. 1, a. 3.) desire and love differ in that love implies a certain suitability and connaturality with the object of love, which is perfected when the object of love is had in some way. But desire implies a movement toward something lovable that is not yet had; and for this reason the movement of the appetite begins in desire and ends in completed love. Thus, desire is a kind of beginning of love, and like a kind of imperfect love.
But having something happens first according as it exists in potentiality, because what exists in the faculty of the one who has it, is considered to be had already, in a way; therefore, the first thing that introduces love is the faculty of having what is desired. But hope consists in this faculty, and thus, love of something distant, which is not had actually, presupposes hope. But since hope is only about a good, and the first movement of the appetite toward good is desire, for this reason hope presupposes desire, and it is a middle in between love and desire.
And this happens reasonably, for since the irascible is for the sake of the concupiscible, the act of the irascible begins from the concupiscible, and terminates in it. For love and desire are in the concupiscible power, while hope is in the irascible; and their ordering is the same when they exist in the will. Thus, it is clear that the act of faith precedes desire, because every affective act presupposes a cognitive act; while desire precedes hope, and hope love. Therefore, just as faith can exist as unformed, because its act precedes the act of love, so can hope.
Reply Obj. 1: Hope does not presuppose merit actually, but in reaching its objective. For a person does not hope because of merits as though preexisting merits produced the act of hope, but because by the merits that he displays, he hopes to attain beatitude.
Reply Obj. 2: Formed faith tends toward God out of love; but unformed hope does not tend toward God out of love, but out of desire.
Reply Obj. 3: Love is taken there broadly for imperfect love, which is desire, because it is the first appetitive movement of virtue. But desire is not sufficient to form acts of virtue.
Article 4
Whether hope contains certainty in its act
To the fourth we proceed thus. (Parallels: ST II-II.18.4; De spe, a. 2, ad 4.) It seems that hope does not contain certainty in its act.
Obj. 1: For certainty pertains to the understanding, because it is opposed to doubt. But hope does not pertain to the understanding but the affections. Therefore, certainty does not pertain to hope.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, there cannot be certainty of something that will never be. But a person may have hope of eternal life, which he will never have. Therefore, hope does not include certainty.
Obj. 3: Furthermore, anything that depends on a contingency cannot have certainty, except when it already exists. But for a particular person to have eternal life depends on his merits, which are from his free will, which is the most contingent cause. Therefore, there cannot be certainty about whether anyone will have eternal life. And since hope is about this, it seems that hope cannot have certainty.
Obj. 4: Furthermore, there cannot be both certainty, or security, and fear about the same thing. But as long as a person is in this life, he has a pious fear of separation from God. Therefore, one cannot have certainty of having eternal life.
Obj. 5: Furthermore, no one will have eternal life except by charity and grace. But no one knows whether he has grace and charity, or whether he will have it in the end. Therefore, there can be no certainty about eternal life in hope.
On the contrary, 2 Timothy 1:12 says, I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that he is able to guard until that Day what has been entrusted to me. But this pertains to hope. Therefore, hope contains certainty.
Furthermore, the Philosopher says (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 2.6, 1106b14.) that virtue is more certain than any skill. But hope is a virtue. Therefore, it contains certainty.
Furthermore, just as faith rests upon the first truth, so does hope rest on the highest munificence, because it comes from grace, as it says in the text. (Sent. III, 26.1(91).1.) But the highest munificence cannot fail a person, just as neither can the first truth deceive a person. Therefore, just as faith contains certainty, so does hope.
I answer that some people have said that hope does not have any certainty except from faith, but the two differ in that the certainty of faith is in the universal—that is, that any good person will have eternal life—while the certainty of hope is in the particular—that is, that this person, if he does well, will have eternal life. And thus the certainty of faith would be absolute and universal, while the certainty of hope would be particular, and conditional. But this cannot stand: for universal and particular do not differentiate powers or habits; and thus, according to this, hope as a habit would not be different from faith, nor would it be in a different power, which is entirely false. And therefore, it should be said instead, that certainty properly means firmness of the cognitive power in adhering to its own knowable object. But every activity and movement of anything tending toward an end is directed by an intelligence, either united to it, in things that act through their will, or remotely, in things that act from their nature. But nothing would tend determinately to its end without some intelligence directing it there beforehand, and that is why the working of nature is like the working of skill, inasmuch as it tends towards its end by determinate means. And it does this by divine wisdom’s determination in instituting its nature.
And therefore, the names that pertain to intelligence are transferred to natural activities, for example, it is said that nature works wisely and infallibly; and this is also how certainty is said about a nature tending toward its end. And since virtue works in the mode of nature, by inclining to a determinate end, this is the reason that virtue is said to be more certain than skill, just as, nature too is said to incline infallibly toward its end, insofar as it is the source of an action. And this is how there is certainty in hope; however, it is different than with the other virtues. For hope presupposes a faculty for attaining the end, which is from divine munificence directing us toward the end and from the merits by which all virtues attain the last end. Thus, the certainty of hope is caused by divine munificence directing us toward the end, and also by the inclination of all the other virtues, and also by the inclination of the habit itself: and therefore, besides the certainty that it has as one of the virtues, it includes the certainty that is in all the other virtues, and furthermore, the certainty of divine ordination.
Reply Obj. 1: Certainty exists first and principally in the understanding, but by a likeness and by participation, it exists in all the works of nature and virtue.
Reply Obj. 2: The certainty of understanding is from itself; however, the certainty of nature is in something else that orders it towards its end. Thus, the certainty of understanding never fails, but the certainty of nature does fail—not in itself, but incidentally, since such a defect is not from its own direction to the end, which it has its certainty from, but from something accidental to it. For example, fire has an absolute certainty of heating, and yet it does fail sometimes because of some other impediment. And it is the same way with hope. This is also why the very certainty of nature’s inclination is called hope, as is clear from Romans 4:18: in hope he believed against hope.
Reply Obj. 3: And the same thing should be said to the third objection.
Reply Obj. 4: As long as we are in this life, there can be incidental impediments to hope obtaining its end, although it has a certainty to itself. And for this reason, the fear of separation accompanies hope now; but in the future, when there will be no incidental impediment, there will not be any fear of separation, nor any hope either, for what we were hoping for, we will have then.
Reply Obj. 5: Although I do not know whether I will have charity in the end, nevertheless, I do know that the charity and merits that I aim to have do lead with certainty to eternal life.
From what has been said it is clear that the certainty of hope and the certainty of faith differ in four ways. First, faith’s certainty is a certainty of understanding, while hope’s certainty is of affection. Second, faith’s certainty cannot fail, but hope’s certainty does fail through incidental causes. Third, the certainty of faith is about something grasped, while the certainty of hope is about something not possessed, which is the object of the desire. Fourth, faith’s certainty is opposed to doubt, while hope’s certainty is opposed to timidity or hesitation.
Thus, it should be known that hope’s certainty, as to the inclination of the habit, is greater in someone who has a formed hope, even if he is foreknown for perdition, than in a person who is predestined but has an unformed hope. But to the extent it includes the certainty that is from God’s ordination, and from the merits that there are in the aim, it is equal in both.
Article 5
Whether there was hope in Christ
Quaestiuncula 1
To the fifth we proceed thus. (Parallels: In III Sent., d. 13, q. 1, a. 2, resp. 1, ad 1; ST I-II.65.5.ad 3; II-II.18.2.ad 1; III.7.4; 6.ad 1; 8.ad 2; 9.ad 1; De veritate, q. 29, a. 4, ad 15; De spe, a. 1, ad 12; 4.ad 16; In Psalmos 15, 30; Super Heb. 2, lect. 3.) It seems that there was hope in Christ.
Obj. 1: For Psalm 31:1 says: in you have I hoped; (RSV reads, “In thee, O Lord, do I seek refuge.”) and it is interpreted as being spoken in the person of Christ. Therefore, he had hope.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, there was something lacking in Christ’s beatitude, namely, the glorified body. Therefore, he could have hoped, since hope is a looking forward to beatitude.
On the contrary, hope is about things not seen (Rom 8:24). But Christ could see eternal goods, which is what hope is about. Therefore, he did not have hope.
Quaestiuncula 2
Obj. 1: Moreover, it seems that angels and the souls of saints have hope. (Parallels: Below, d. 31, q. 2, a. 1, resp. 2, 3; ST I-II.67.4-5; II-II.18.2; 19.11.ad 3; De spe, a. 4; De virtutibus cardinalibus, a. 4, ad 10.) For joy increases in the angels over the salvation of those they guard: there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents (Luke 15:10). And similarly too the saints rejoice over the goods of others, which happen every day. Therefore, they have something that they might hope about.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, the souls of the saints expect the garment that is the glorified body. This is why it is said to them, that they should expect still a little while until the number of their fellow servants should be filled up (Rev 6:11). (RSV reads, “they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brethren should be complete.”) But expectation belongs to hope. Therefore, the saints have hope.
On the contrary, when the perfect comes, what is partial will pass away (1 Cor 13:10). (For “partial” RSV reads “what is imperfect.”) But hope is partial, because it is about what is not possessed. Therefore, since what is perfect has come to the saints, it seems that they do not have hope.
Quaestiuncula 3
Obj. 1: It seems that the patriarchs who were in limbo did not have hope. (Parallel: In IV Sent., d. 45, q. 1, a. 2, resp. 3.) For hope deferred makes the heart sick, as it says in Proverbs 13:12. But among the holy patriarchs who were in limbo, there was no affliction. Therefore they did not have hope.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, hope comes from merits. But they were not in the state of meriting, just as neither are those who are in purgatory. Therefore, they did not have hope.
On the contrary, anyone who desires something that he does not yet have, looks forward to that. But the patriarchs who were in limbo did desire beatitude, which they did not yet have. Therefore, they looked forward to it, and therefore, they had hope.
Quaestiuncula 4
Obj. 1: Moreover, it seems that even the damned and the demons have hope. (Parallels: ST II-II.18.3.) For Job says about himself: the hope of a man is disappointed (Job 41:9). Therefore, he has hope.
Obj. 2: Furthermore, just as faith is unformed, so is hope. But they have unformed faith. Therefore, they have the same kind of hope.
On the contrary, hope is not about impossible things. But the demons and the damned are resolute in their wickedness, and therefore cannot attain eternal life. Therefore, they cannot have hope.
Response to Quaestiuncula 1
To the first question, I answer that Christ did not have hope, because hope includes an imperfection, since it is founded upon a mysterious unknowing. But as regards the perfections of the soul, there was nothing of imperfection in Christ; and thus there could not be hope within him.
Reply Obj. 1: “Hope” there is taken for looking forward to a reward of special distinction, (For an explanation of the distinction between the chief reward that is eternal beatitude (the “aurea“), and special distinctions given as an extra reward (the “aureolae“), see In IV Sent., d. 49, q. 5, a. 1.) about which there cannot be hope, properly speaking, because hope has God for its object. Therefore it does not follow that Christ had hope, properly speaking.
Reply Obj. 2: And the same thing should be said to the second objection, because the glorified body is not the main thing in beatitude.
Response to Quaestiuncula 2
To the second question, it should be said that angels and the souls of the blessed, properly speaking, do not have hope, and this is evident from two things. First, because hope, as a theological virtue, has God for its object, and their joy, which they have from God, cannot grow, therefore, what increases in them does not pertain to hope. Second, because hope is about the arduous and difficult; and since for those who have the essence of glory, which consists in the vision of God, anything else created is tiny; and therefore there can be no hope, either about the joy that increases in them at the salvation of the others, or about the joy that increases in the soul at receiving the glorified body. But there can be desire for these things, and this desire is broadly called “expectation.”
Reply Obj. 1–2: And by this the answers the objections are clear.
Response to Quaestiuncula 3
To the third question, it should be said that those who are in purgatory, and the patriarchs who were in limbo, did have hope, because hope does not pass away unless a person has in actuality what he hoped for; just as hope passes away when one sees what he believed. However, those who were in the limbo of the fathers, and those who are now in purgatory, do not yet have beatitude, which is what hope is about. Therefore, their hope, which they had in this life, did not pass away.
Reply Obj. 1: The deferral of the ancient patriarchs’ hope did not cause them affliction, because they were not able to feel affliction. Or it could be said that although hope causes affliction by reason of a lack to the one hoping, nevertheless, by reason of its certainty it causes delight. And since the hope that is in them could not fail, the delight that was caused by hope’s certainty absorbed every affliction that could arise from a lack.
Reply Obj. 2: Although they are not in the state of meriting, nevertheless, they merited before, and their hope arises from those merits.
Response to Quaestiuncula 4
To the fourth question, it should be said that hope is founded upon the faculty of attaining what is hoped, whether truly or estimated. Now, among the demons and the damned, there is no faculty for attaining beatitude, whether in the truth of the thing, nor in their estimation, because they are not ignorant of their damnation. And therefore, the hope of future beatitude cannot exist in them.
Reply Obj. 1: Hope there is taken improperly for the expectation of the delaying of judgment. This is also why they say to Christ, have you come here to torture us before the time? (Matt 8:29).
Reply Obj. 2: Faith is not so much about those things that pertain to oneself as hope is. For this reason, they can have faith about God and about other things, but not hope about themselves. Or it could be said that unformed faith does not tend toward God at all, as hope does even when unformed in some way, as was said before. And thus it is not the same with faith and hope.
Exposition of the text
Hope is the virtue by which spiritual and eternal goods are hoped for. (Sent. III. 26. 1 (91). 1.) To the contrary: eternity is only one thing. Therefore, eternal goods should not be spoken of in the plural. Furthermore, hope is about the future. However, all the future is temporal, and nothing temporal is eternal. Therefore, hope is not about eternal things. Furthermore, nothing temporal is eternal. Therefore, it was superfluous that he said, spiritual goods. In response, it should be said that what is in itself eternal is only one thing, but eternity is participated in by many goods in beatitude, namely, by the different gifts or “dowries,” (For an explanation of the “dowries” of the blessed, see In IV Sent., d. 44, q. 2, a. 2, resp. 4.) and these participations are called “eternal” goods, not because they have no beginning, but because they have no end. Or it could be referred to the plurality of attributes. To the second, it should be said that what is in itself eternal is future to the person who hopes; and this is how hope can exist about God. To the third, it should be said that they are called “spiritual” on account of the dowries of the body, which are bodily, and in a certain way eternal, inasmuch as they will endure forever. Or it could be said that it indicates both, insofar as one attains, as if by degrees, the proper object of hope; for it is about a spiritual good—not just any spiritual good, but the eternal one that is God.
For [hope] is a sure expectation of future blessedness. (Sent. III, 26.1(91).1.) This definition is given by its act, as was said, whereas the first definition was given by its genus.
Which charity by nature precedes. (Sent. III, 26.1(91).1.) This is true since it is a virtue, which it can only have according as it is informed by charity. Or, as the perfect is prior to the imperfect by nature, but posterior in time.
So hope too concerns invisible things. (Sent. III. 26. 2(92).) To the contrary, a person can hope for money that he sees. It should be said that, properly speaking, hope is not about things that are possessed. However, in spiritual and eternal things, seeing is having; but that is not the case in physical things, and this is why it is said to be about invisible things. Or it should be said that it is said to be about invisible things inasmuch as it is about future things, because even if money is seen in itself, nevertheless, it is not seen as something possessed; and this is the way that hope tends toward it.
'But hope concerns only good things, and only future things, and only things pertaining to the person who entertains the hope of them.' (Sent. III, 26.3(93).1, citing Augustine, Enchiridion de fide, spe et caritate, ch. 2 (CCSL 46; PL 40:234).) To the contrary is what we find in Luke 24:21: but we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Therefore, hope is also about other people. Furthermore, a person may give up hope of someone else, as Augustine says that no one should be despaired of as long as he is in this life. Therefore, hope can also be for other people. Furthermore, just as a person looks forward to his own good, so too, in envy, he looks forward to an evil befalling another. Therefore hope is also about evils. Furthermore, beatitude in itself is not in the future, but eternal; nor does it regard the past, because it will never have it. Therefore, it is not always about future things.
And it should be said to the first that hope is about one kind of thing, when it is said: “I hope for beatitude”; and then, it is only about what pertains to oneself. It is also about what may happen, as when we say, “I hope that this will happen”; and this is how it is about what pertains to others. However, there is no hope about anything happening unless it is judged as a good for the person hoping.
And by this, the answer to the second objection is clear. To the third it should be said that an envious person judges the evil of another as his own good; and therefore it is about another’s evil as one’s own good.
To the fourth it should be said that although someone foreknown for heaven does not have eternal life in the truth of the matter, and thus it is not future for him, it is nevertheless future as to his own estimation, otherwise he would not hope for it. And again, inasmuch as it is in the order of divine munificence and the person’s own possibility either to receive grace or to merit, as something is said to be future when its happening has causes ordained in nature, although it may never happen, according to what the Philosopher says in On Generation and Corruption 2, (Aristotle, On Generation and Corruption 2.11, 337b7.) that “future” means someone who is approaching, not someone who will approach.
Chapter 121 of 186