Inanimate Things Research Articles

Ghazali's Chapter on Divine Power in the Iqtiṣād

The theological foundations of Ghazali's causal theory are fully expressed in the chapter on the attribute of divine power in his al-Iqtiṣād fi al-I'tiqād (Moderation in Belief). The basic doctrine which he proclaims and argues for is that divine power, an attribute additional to the divine essence, is one and pervasive. It does not consist of a multiplicity of powers that produce a multiplicity of effects, but is a unitary direct cause of each and every created existent. In a defense of the doctrine of kasb (acquisition), Ghazali argues (a) that power in all animate creatures is created directly (i.e. without intermediaries) by God and (b) that there is created with it the object of power, normally, but erroneously regarded as its effect: the object of power is in fact directly created by God. It exists with the created power, but not by it. In his critique of the Mu'tazilite theory of the generated act he again denies that created power has any causal efficacy and denies that inanimate things have any causal efficacy. What one normally regards as the effects of inanimate causes are in reality their concomitants, directly caused by divine power.The discussion of kasb, the longest in the chapter, includes Ghazali's spirited defense of it against possible objections. The defense, however, as will be shown, is not immune against criticism. At the same time, the discussion of kasb, central as it is, has to be understood in the context of the chapter as a whole, whose intricate arguments remain integrated and unified. Hence a brief exposition of the chapter's arguments will first be given, followed by a critical comment on some aspects of Ghazali's defense of kasb. This is then followed by an annotated translation of the entire chapter, a chapter so very basic for the study of Ghazali's position on causality.

Things Speaking and Speech “Thinging”: Riddlic Voices and The Seafarer

THINGS SPEAKING AND SPEECH “THINGING” : RIDDLIC VOICES AND THE SEAFARER ANNA SMOL Mount St. Vincent University M any critics have discussed the riddle of The Seafarer's voices. Who is speaking in the poem? Is it one person, two, or even three? Are we hearing a homilist or a sailor? Is he speaking allegorically or literally? In our efforts to crack the clues to the work’s personae by examining homiletic motifs, allegorical images, or literal stories of peregrinatio, we have disregarded the significance of the actual process in which we are engaged— the answer to the riddle of The Seafarer’s voices lies in the recognition that what we are hearing are riddlic voices. The clue to the identification of the poem’s personae lies in the understanding that what we are involved in is a meaning-game of impersonation. The Seafarer's Active voices challenge the listener, both fictional and real, to recognize each speaker’s identity and significance. This challenge is central to allegory, which means “other-speaking,” or speaking other than what one seems to be saying, and it is also similar to the ways in which voices impersonating things challenge their listeners in the riddles. In order to examine the conception of poetic voices and how they speak another meaning in Old English allegories, we may begin with a look at the riddle genre. The Old English riddles demonstrate the power of words to construct our perception of the world. W.P. Ker wrote some time ago that the riddle “carries the poetic mind out over the world,” and in describing the various creatures there it “becomes a shifting vision of all the different aspects in which the creature may be found” (qtd. in Williamson 24-25). The imagina­ tive range and detailed gaze of the riddlic perspective extend to the reader or listener a challenge sometimes made explicit in the conventional phrase “saga hwaet ic hatte” [say what I am called] that concludes many of these poems. In other cases, the riddle stands as a cryptic set-piece, its challenge implicit in the words spoken out to its reading or listening audience. A good example of how the riddles allow us, as Lois Bragg puts it, “to engage the riddlic speakers and to dialogue with them” (48) is the nine-line riddle with the commonly accepted solution of beam [tree or wood], num­ bered 28 in Williamson. It begins with a first-person speaker proclaiming its identity with the typical riddlic opening phrase “ic eom” [I am], but it goes on to express various aspects of that identity, shifting from one attribute 249 to another, sometimes as often as one half-line leads into the next: “bearu blowende, byrnende gled” [blooming grove, burning ember] (line 4). We see the creature as a tree in full bloom and tossed by bad weather; we see the tree as a burning log and a piece of wood used to make a ship and possibly a cup or harp, and finally we perceive the tree as a cross that in­ creases people’s happiness when reverence is paid to it. We must recognize when the speaking voice shifts from one attribute to another so that we can identify the essential nature of the creature being described in all its mani­ festations. The process is similar to another type of meaning-game, that of allegory; in fact, one of the best-known examples of Old English allegories, The Dream of the Rood, has been discussed in relation to its use of a speech of personification possibly derived from the riddle genre (see Schlauch). Craig Williamson further describes this riddle game as a series of disguises in which a person enters imaginatively into the state of an inanimate thing such as a tree, and then that thing takes on human speech and often other human attributes in proclaiming its identity — in the beam riddle, for ex­ ample, the tree describes itself as “fus forôweges” [eager for a journey] (3), a phrase frequently applied to doomed warriors in heroic poetry. The tree, then, appears to be disguised in a human voice. Solving the riddle requires shedding the layers of disguise...

The Status and Function of Divine Simpleness in Summa Theologiae Ia, qq. 2–13

THE STATUS AND FUNCTION OF DIVINE SIMPLENESS IN SUMMA THEOLOGIAE Ia, qq. 2-13 PETER BURNS, S.J. l esuit School of Theology Berkeley, California Introduction I N THE FIRST PART of what follows I hope to do four things: a) to give a brief summary of Aquinas's remarks contained in the third question of the first part of the Summa Theologiae, entitled de Dei simplicitate; b) to outline two diferent ways of interpreting what Aquinas is about when making those remarks; c) to assess which interpretation is better from an exegetical standpoint; d) to assess which interpretation is better from a philosophical standpoint. In the second part my aim will be threefold : a) to trace the way Aquinas derives and uses the concept of divine simpleness in questions 2 through 11 ; b) to examine briefly the relationship between this concept and possible cosmological arguments for the existence of God; and c) to evaluate critically some modern treatments of arguments of the cosmological type in the light of this relationship. I shall not be concerned to show that Aquinas's conclusions in question 2 (the Five Ways) are justified by the arguments he adduces; rather, my concern will be to show that an adequate evaluation of his arguments cannot ignore the function of divine simpleness as a key element therein. I. The Status Of Divinle Simpleness (1) A Summary of S.T. la, 3 At the beginning of question 3 Aquinas lists eight points of inquiry. The first is whether God is a body, that is, composed 1 2 PETER BURNS, S.J. of extended parts. He offers three reasons why he thinks the reply must be negative. Firstly, an unchanging first cause of change, which God is (by la, 2, 3) would appear not to be bodily, since experience offers no examples of bodies causing change without themselves changing. Secondly, to be extended in space implies the potentiality of being divisible, but a primary reality is utterly actual, since absolutely speaking, actuality precedes po~ tentiality, and God is the primary reality. Thirdly, since the soul is nobler than inanimate things, and God is the most excellent of beings, God cannot be any less noble than the soul. But the soul in itself is not bodily but that in virtue of which bodies are what they are. In the next article Aquinas denies that God is composed of matter and form because matter is potential and only exists by participating in some form. In addition, since agents act in virtue of their form, God, as the prime source of activity and being in no way potential, must be considered as being essentially form without composition with matter, Aquinas then asks whether God can be identified with his own essence or nature. Given that matter is the individuating factor in beings composed of matter and form, and that such composition is ruled out in case of God, Aquinas claims that the distinctness of his being must be due to form. Hence God is his own form or nature or essence. In a crucial move in the next article Aquinas identifies God, who is his essence, with his existence, for as an uncaused necessary reality this essence must be self-subsistent. Thus God's nature or essence is necessarily self-instantiating, nor does God participate in existence, but essentially is identical with (the act of) 'existing', Therefore the distinction between essence and existence , between what something is and that it is, does not hold for God. Having daimed that God is his own existence, Aquinas argues that this existence is prior to genus in general and to the genus of substance specifically. So there is no possibility of distinguishing in God genus and difference, nor can God receive predicates as a substance, since this would imply potentiality. Therefore God is DIVINE SIMPLENESS IN SUMMA THEOLOGIAE 3 not composed of substance and accidents. In article 7, Aquinas claims that God is altogether simple. After summing up the previous remarks he makes two general points. Everything composite is subsequent to and dependent on its components, whereas God is the first, uncaused necessary being. Secondly, everything composite is caused, for essentially diverse elements must...

Distortion of adaptation--wear & tear and repair & recovery--17-KS-sulfates and stress in humans

We have conducted research to determine the compounds in human urine which have high values in healthy individuals, decrease with failing health (or bodily decay) and decline rapidly with advancing illness to reach very low values in severe illnesses. We initially established that 17-ketosteroid sulfates (17-KS-S) have the highest values in healthy individuals. Stress was regarded by Hans Selye as the rate of wear and tear and 17-OHCS as its indicator, but we considered that, different from inanimate things, energy transforming live organisms exist in a dynamic balance between "wear and tear" and "repair and recovery". Here it becomes important to determine the organism's adaptability at least to two factors. We regarded 17-OHCS as a compound related to tissue "wear and tear", and a search for a compound related to "repair and recovery", led us to the identification of 17-KS-S. In other words, we considered the relation between "repair and recovery" and "wear and tear". The measurement of 17-KS-S, which decreases with failing health, when combined with 17-OHCS, may make it possible to evaluate distortions in the organism (disturbance of adaptability), which bring the presence of illness or the susceptibility to illness in each person to our notice. Further adding a new dimension to clinical diagnostic acumen in an objective evaluation of psychosocial stress (emotional imbalance, dejection, depression, etc. due to the burden of a heavy debt, dismissal, urgent mental work against a deadline, transfer, inter-personal friction, parent-child relationship, etc.) where results of clinical routine tests are often within normal limits, and in the monitoring of health and illness.

The problem with gender

Webster’s defines gender as the classification of animate beings and inanimate things as masculine, feminine, or neuter. When used as a concept that guides how we perceive and study sexuality, gender becomes nebulous: To some, gender is defined in terms of behavior, whereas others regard gender as indicative of chromosome constitution. However, gender is an anthropocentric psychological construct that has little meaning when dealing with nonhuman organisms. In such investigations clarity and precision of definitions of sexuality are paramount. This essay demonstrates that sexuality is not a unitary phenomenon, but rather a multifaceted composite of different sexes that may or may not be concordant. The essay further suggests that the components of sexuality be considered in terms of complementary mechanisms and outcomes.

The Practical Mysticism of Clarice Lispector's Uma Aprendizagem ou o Livro dos Prazeres

I n her fiction Clarice Lispector echoes the concerns of Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus and other existentialist writers. Briefly stated, existentialism refers to the notion that life has meaning only as a person participates fully in it by taking complete responsibility for his own existence and creating himself. Man becomes aware of the true meaning of existence only after he experiences nausea and comes to grips with the discovery of his fundamental freedom. Unleashed through the contemplation of animate and inanimate things in nature, nausea is the violent form of anguish that occurs when man recognizes the disparity between the existence of things and himself, when he recognizes what Camus calls absurdity. Unlike man, things are complete in themselvesthey act according to a predetermined plan and can exist without human presence in the world. Because man's existence is not predetermined-if he chooses to ignore the dictates of society, God or any other authority, he may do so--he seems to be a superfluous being both in the physical world and to himself.' As man reflects on the absence of any apparent meaning in his life, he comes to an awareness of his fundamental freedom. According to Sartre, this freedom is both a blessing and a curse: it not only liberates man from the notion that his existence is predetermined, but also forces him to take absolute responsibility for whatever choices he makes. Faced with this awesome charge, man often wishes to ignore revelations of the human condition and continue living without making any choice. Or he may go to a hedonistic extreme and revel in his freedom. While these avenues are tempting to the Sartrean hero, he chooses instead to acknowledge life's absurdity and use his anguish to create his life (HB, pp. 173, 176). As Clarice's protagonists experience nausea and discover man's freedom they too must make choices. Those made by Martim in A MaCd no Escuro (1961), G.H. in A Paixdo Segundo G.H. (1964) and L6ri in UmaAprendizagem ou 0 Livro dos Prazeres (1969) are representative of her characters' reactions to the existential challenge. Martim's nausea occurs as his senses are assaulted by the sights and smells of a barnyard where he has taken refuge to escape the consequences of the apparent murder of his wife. Although initially it seems that he is using his freedom to create himself, it later becomes clear that he has made the wrong choice. Viewing his supposed crime as a heroic act of liberation from the conventions of society, he begins to believe that he is destined to play an important role among men. But his refusal to take responsibility for his act presupposes the failure of his quest.2 G.H.'s nausea occurs as she contemplates a cockroach that she has just crushed in a closet door. Quickly succumbing to the lure of freedom and reveling hedonistically in what proves to be absurdity, her quest fails because she refuses really to make any choice. She seeks refuge from the world, the setting in which she must learn to act if she is to become an authentic individual.3 L6ri's nausea, which is somewhat different from Martim's and G.H.'s reactions, occurs in the middle of her performance of some domestic tasks. The routine of her daily existence is broken as she experiences a pain so acute that it wracks her whole body with silent sobs. It is out of the prolonged anguish that follows this pain that L6ri slowly overcomes her indifference to life's pleasure and pain and

The Necessity of Writing Death and Imagination in Maurice Blanchot's L'Espace Litteraire

In 1902, the Austrian writer Hugo von Hofmannsthal assumed the persona of sixteenth-century Englishman, Lord Chandos, to probe his own distrust of language and especially of writing. Replying to the inquiries of his friend Francis Bacon, Chandos explains why he has given up all literary activity. Though precociously brilliant and ambitious writer, Chandos now finds that words crumble in his mouth like moldy mushrooms. He is overcome by strange discomfort at those abstract terms we use with fluent, habitual self-assurance to simplify and fuse into judgments the world's isolated parts. What remains for him are the scattered fragments of ordinary experience. And yet at unpredictable moments these fragments suddenly flood with higher life, mystic exaltation which also lies beyond any possible To speak of such experiences would demand thinking in material more immediate, more liquid, more glowing than words. This language, the only one in which he could write or think, is a language none of whose words is known to me, language in which inanimate things speak to me.

The Story of a Boy and the Cut on His Knee

I ALWAYS CONSIDER introductions useless in any kind of literary endeavor (if we can, of course, talk of literary endeavor). The title alone will suffice to introduce everything that is about to happen. So, in the beginning the boy will cut the knee, probably his own, and later, the cut will have hardly any significance as far as the rest of the story is concerned. Most certainly, the cut will be mentioned here and there; nevertheless, I will need to return to the cut near the end, not only to justify the title, but to complete the time sequence. The only other thing I feel I should mention in the introduction is the fact that the boy will grow up, finish school, get drafted, then marry. So time will roll on. It's a pity. I hate time. It gobbles up everything alive. I don't want to consider the inanimate things. Let those who are paid to do so consider the inanimate. And something else, before I start. I '11 tell you the beginning and the end of the story. I'm not afraid to tell you because I know it won't be boring. No, I'm not afraid at all. So, the story will begin with the sentence: The father forgot to lock the door behind him that morning, and it will end with the clatter of iron railway wheels: tadam-tadam, tadam-tadam.

Non‐human rights: An idealist perspective

The question whether an entity has rights is identified with that as to whether an intrinsic value resides in it which imposes obligations to foster it on those who can appreciate this value. There should be no difficulty in granting that animals have rights in this sense, but what of other natural objects and artifacts? It seems that various inanimate things, such as fine buildings and forests, often possess such intrinsic value, yet since they can only be fully actual in an observing consciousness the most basic such right is that of being observed from time to time. That, at least, is true of them as phenomenal objects. There must, however, be a thing in itself behind the phenomenal object and sometimes this may possess an intrinsic value which gives rise to rights, not a matter of the need to be actualized in an observing consciousness, though it is extremely difficult to reach reliable conclusions here.

Editorial: Book Reviews in Perspectives

PERSPECTIVES IN BIOLOGY AND MEDICINE Volume 19 · Number 2 · Winter 1976 EDITORIAL: BOOK REVIEWS IN PERSPECTIVES Of the innumerable books published today at the interface of science and medicine, only a few can be considered for review in Perspectives. In discovering the essence of a book and the aim and spirit of the author, the reviewer usually reveals something of himself. This meticulous and scholarly evaluation is calculated to encourage both readers and buyers. Internationally acknowledged authorities as well as experts who are yet to establish their reputations are invited to review forPBM. x Provocative views are not eschewed, and no restrictions are placed on reviewers who are expected to ascertain the true value and meaning of a book and to examine its unique interrelationship with "creatures, things, and actions ." William Hazlitt has said: "There are only three pleasures in life pure and lasting, and all are derived from inanimate things—books, pictures, and the face of nature." The most precious possession of a biologist or a practicing physician, therefore, ought to be his personal library. The problem lies in selecting only the most worthy of newly published books. To coordinate, organize, regulate, and advise today on an unprecedentedly burgeoning body of scientific data and professional publications, Perspectives will continue to seek out the most appropriate and devoted reviewers. No book will be savaged, merely savored for the delight of the sophisticated palates of our readers.—J. W. M. 'This issue contains critiques by Raymond Fink, Ronald Singer, John C. Eccles, J. W. Mostert, E. Chargaff, D. W. Benson, J. D. Burrington, and D. J. Ingle. Perspectives in Biology and Medicine · Winter 1976 | 155 ...

A. C. Ewing—A Critical Survey of Ewing's Recent Work

Is the existence of God a reasonable metaphysical hypothesis? So asks A. C. Ewing in his important posthumous work, Value and Reality. Thus the topic of the book is theistic religion, not in its entirety, but rather merely in its intellectual part. That it does have such a part, and further that it makes claims ‘to objective truth in the field of metaphysics’ (p. 24), is defended on the grounds (a) that a fictional ‘story’ about God has what religious or ethical impact it may have because, or at least mainly because, it is taken precisely not as fictional, but as expressing an objective theological truth; and (b) that a story, or an account, can constitute a good reason for one's acting in a certain way only if the account is, in fact, objectively true. Bearing on both points is Ewing's observation that ‘emotion, at least except in pathological cases, requires some objective belief about the real, true or false, to support it for long, and if it exists without knowledge or rationally founded belief with which it is in agreement, it is to be condemned as irrational or unfitting, as it would be unfitting to rejoice at something disastrous or be angry with an inanimate thing’ (p. 27). The claim is not, we are told, that religious statements are literal as distinguished from symbolic. The door would seem to be left open, in fact, to their all being symbolic. What is essential is that some of them symbolise distinctively metaphysical truths, or truths ‘going beyond the realm of science’ and ‘throwing some light on the general nature of the real’ (p. 30). We should indeed distinguish, Ewing notes, ‘belief in’ from ‘belief that’. Yet the former is not possible without the latter. ‘Unless I believe that God exists I cannot believe in God’ (p. 28). So in Ewing's opinion, statements of metaphysics—if not concerning God, then at least concerning certain general aspects of reality—are most important for religion as a whole, and are, in being true, conceptually necessary to its validity, or to its ‘fittingness’.

Work Study Volume 19 Issue 1

TELEVISION, that box which is the gaoler of so many minds, is essentially a neutral and inanimate thing. Its output, like that of the computer, is confined to what human brains put into it. That unoriginal thought came to us during the preview of a new series which the BBC will show to usher in the new decade, for this showed how effectively television can be employed as a serious instrument of education.

Thinking and Performance

The explanation of change or movement has always been a central concern of philosophers. Some, like Aristotle, have taken the movement of living things as their paradigm, and tried to explain all movement or change in that way. Others, after the fashion of Descartes, concentrate on the movement of inanimate things and generalise explanations of this to encompass all movement or change. For Aristotle, things have a principle of growth, organisation and movement in their own right. The movement or change of a natural thing is explained by its tendency to move in that way. The line he draws is not, as the line which we would perhaps like to draw is, between organic and inorganic things, but between these grouped together as subject to the same kind of explanation and, on the other hand, artificial things. A problem that results from this division is that while it might seem plausible to explain changes which occur in a baby when it grows into a man by saying that babies naturally tend to grow into men, and if they do not then something has interfered with their natural development, it seems odd to treat inorganic things in this way. Restricted to the contrast between the natural and the artificial, the explanation of stones falling when unsupported is clearly going to provide some difficulty. Although it is true that Aristotle does not think that because in the case of man the form with which matter is formed to make that substance is called a soul, that therefore any kind of form joined with matter to make a substance is called a soul, nevertheless the explanation of things which are a combination, a natural combination, of form and matter is the same for both man and other substances. Confronted with the explanation of falling bodies in this way, it first of all seems implausible and then suggests that things should happen which in fact do not. If it is assumed that the principle of movement is in the stone, ought it not to be assumed that the principle of stopping is in it too? Babies grow into men because it is in their nature to do so perhaps, but that stones fall downwards because it is in their nature to do so has, as Molière noticed in the case of a similar explanation of why opium puts you to sleep, a hollow ring.

Thinking and Performance

The explanation of change or movement has always been a central concern of philosophers. Some, like Aristotle, have taken the movement of living things as their paradigm, and tried to explain all movement or change in that way. Others, after the fashion of Descartes, concentrate on the movement of inanimate things and generalise explanations of this to encompass all movement or change. For Aristotle, things have a principle of growth, organisation and movement in their own right. The movement or change of a natural thing is explained by its tendency to move in that way. The line he draws is not, as the line which we would perhaps like to draw is, between organic and inorganic things, but between these grouped together as subject to the same kind of explanation and, on the other hand, artificial things. A problem that results from this division is that while it might seem plausible to explain changes which occur in a baby when it grows into a man by saying that babies naturally tend to grow into men, and if they do not then something has interfered with their natural development, it seems odd to treat inorganic things in this way. Restricted to the contrast between the natural and the artificial, the explanation of stones falling when unsupported is clearly going to provide some difficulty. Although it is true that Aristotle does not think that because in the case of man the form with which matter is formed to make that substance is called a soul, that therefore any kind of form joined with matter to make a substance is called a soul, nevertheless the explanation of things which are a combination, a natural combination, of form and matter is the same for both man and other substances. Confronted with the explanation of falling bodies in this way, it first of all seems implausible and then suggests that things should happen which in fact do not. If it is assumed that the principle of movement is in the stone, ought it not to be assumed that the principle of stopping is in it too? Babies grow into men because it is in their nature to do so perhaps, but that stones fall downwards because it is in their nature to do so has, as Molière noticed in the case of a similar explanation of why opium puts you to sleep, a hollow ring.

Biology in the K-12 Curriculum

I. In building a science curriculum for the public schools, K-12, many questions arise which should be taken into consideration. 1. In the first place, should a particular area of science be emphasized and if so which area? 2. In the second place, how exhaustive a study should be made of the science chosen for emphasis? 3. At what levels should each of the principles of the science chosen be introduced and developed in order to give the child a satisfactory sequence of cumulative experiences without unnecessary duplication? 4. How should the principles of the science selected for greater emphasis be related to the facts, principles and techniques of other areas, so as to provide desirable synthesis in the child's mind? 5. What specific techniques should be used in the classroom to acquaint the child with these principles and to train him in the methods of their discovery and their application? 6. With emphasis placed on a particular science through the elementary school, what type of courses should be offered in the high school? II. Since science deals with our environment and our relationship to it, those areas in which the child shows his earliest interest seem to be those with which the curriculum should begin and around which the other areas should be developed. With this assumption in mind the use of biology as the central theme in a science curriculum can be justified on several grounds. 1. If a child of kindergarten age is asked to talk those things in which he is most interested, he will usually tell his pets, his brothers and sisters, or some of the living things, plants or animals, which he has observed and which have aroused his interest. 2. The child usually begins to notice inanimate things because they are related in some way to living things in which he is interested. For instance, he is interested in water because of its relation to him, his pets, the grass on the lawn, and the flowers in his yard. 3. Although interested chiefly in living things, the child views his environment as a whole and relates his experiences to his total surroundings; therefore, by using the study of living things as the central theme for the science curriculum, the other areas of science, such as physics, chemistry, geology, and astronomy, can be readily introduced and correlated with the living organisms. 4. Since the processes which govern man as a living organism operate for living matter in general, an understanding of these basic principles is necessary for his welfare. An effective understanding of biological principles cannot be gained through our customary courses in nature study, health and conservation, or in the use of the read about, talk about method. They should be presented in a progressively developed and expanded program from K12 and in such a way that the child is given the thrill of discovery through his immediate experiences.

Liability in French Law for Damages Caused by Motor Vehicle Accidents

APART FROM THE RECENT LAW of December 31, 1951, establishing a guaranty fund (fonds de garantie), to which reference will be made below, French law contains no special provisions ensuring compensation to the victims of motor vehicle accidents. The explanation probably is that, while such accidents have become frequent, there has been available a rule of liability distinctly favorable to the victims, a rule applicable to all accidents involving inanimate things, which the courts have applied to motor vehicles. This rule, predicated upon a presumption of fault as against the custodian (gardien) of the thing, in certain cases reaching liability without fault, was established by the Court of Cassation in order to provide compensation for workmen injured in industrial accidents, in the frequent cases where it was not possible to prove any fault of the employer or of any of his other employees and the Civil Code, as previously interpreted, did not allow judgment against the employer. Article 1384 of the Civil Code states, it is true, that an individual is liable not only for the damage which he causes by his own act (fait), but also for that caused by the act of in his charge. But it is certain that, in the mind of those who drafted the Code, the word things denoted only animals and buildings, against the custodians of which Articles 1385 and 1386 create a presumption of fault. In case of damages caused by other things, Articles 1382 and 1383, which contain the fundamental rule in the matter of civril liability and assume proof of some fault as a basis of liability, remained applicable.

A High School Biology Laboratory Exercise Illustrating Mendel's 3-1 Ratio

While teaching secondary school biology in the Dryden-Freeville Central School in Dryden, New York, the author was faced with the problem of finding a means of demonstrating the Mendelian 3: 1 ratio effectively. Numerous methods have been described in which study skins, pictures, coins, charts and other inanimate things were used to illustrate the 3: 1 ratio. However, science biology is the Science of Life, a method using living things as experimental material was thought more appropriate. The possibility of using Drosophila was examined. At the high school level this animal did not seem suitable. A number of reasons underlie this decision. First, there was the expense of getting pure strains. Also, there was the problem of preparing culture media and the difficulty encountered by high school students in handling these animals with any great degree of efficiency. Most other experimental animals possessed life cycles which were so long in duration that they could not be considered as satisfactory experimental material. Consequently an investigation into possibilities within the plant kingdom was made. From an inspection of catalogues of biological supply houses, it was found that corn segregating 3:1, green to albino, could be purchased. About this time it was also learned that the Sorghum Investigations, Texas Agricultural Experiment Station, Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas, Rural Route 1, Lubbock, Texas, could and would supply packets of sorghum seeds which differentiated 3: 1, green to albino. The decision was made to try this experimental material. Since the experiment proved both satisfactory and worthwhile, the author would like to pass on the method to other teachers. The class was divided into teams. Each team was composed of two members. Each team was equipped with a flat box similar to those in which tomato plants are sold, a source of garden soil and one hundred sorghum seeds. Instructions for planting and caring for the seed bed were included in the laboratory directions. Each student made notes covering the progress of the growth of his seedlings. As the color differences emerged much student interest was aroused. It is believed that this was due, in part at least, to the fact that the students were not informed in advance of what they might expect. The seedlings also grew in such a manner that another plant property was demonstrated rather nicely. It so happened that the boxes with developing seedlings were placed at the side of the laboratory opposite from the side containing windows. All of the tops of the seedlings grew noticeably toward the light. In fact so much so that it appeared that a strong wind had bent them all in one direction. This turned out to be a perfect example of phototropism. When the seedlings had attained about one and one-half inches of growth the students were instructed to count the number of green seedlings and white seedlings and to compute the number of seeds which had not germinated. From this, the idea of percentage of germination was developed. It was deemed essential to convey to the student the idea that this percentage of germination, which was determined by them, could

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The plough, which looks so clumsy and uncouth, changes its character. In conjunction with your team of horses, it becomes a glorious galleon, which you steer proudly over the rolling fields like some mariner of old. It is no longer an ugly, awkward, inanimate thing, but a delicately flexible instrument, which responds to your lightest touch … Not that the poesy of ploughing is continuous. The length of the lines is determined by the head-lands; it is broken into verses by each strike-out, and, if you wish to continue the simile, into different poems by the different fields. Such a nuisance these breaks are! Why cannot one plough one long straight furrow for ever without these petty hindrances ? But, this being impossible, one is forced to turn, to let the plough grate clumsily along the head-land, then to turn again into the work, and swing away on a new tack, happy and interested once more.'Tis true I am no physician, but I would suggest in all sincerity that three months’ steady ploughing would cure any man of a nervous break-down. For ploughing is a mental tonic of great power. The ploughman is master of the situation. Nothing can stop him. Little by little he changes the surface of the earth. The plough may be slow, but it is so very sure. As the strip of black on the east side of that piece of prairie grew slowly wider and wider until it neared the west boundary, I was forced to marvel at the relentless power of the plough.

Indeterminability and Confusion as Apotropaic Elements in Italy and in Spain

SIR JAMES FRAZER, in his Folk-Lore in the Old Testament, devotes a chapter1 to The Sin of a Census, taking as his text the report, in II Samuel xxiv and in I Chronicles xxi, of David's numbering of his people. He instances many examples, drawn from pagan or Moslem or Christian folk in Africa, or America, or the Pacific, or Europe, of the evil consequences which are, or which have been, presumed to follow whether of living creatures or of inanimate things. In certain of his examples, where counting is essential because of a need to know at least approximately the quantities involved in an operation, there is introduced some element obviously intended for protection. So, in Algeria, a person who counts measures of grain should be in a state of ceremonial purity, while instead of numerals he employs expressions of religious import; and in Palestine Moslems engaged in a similar task make use of analogous pious phrases instead of certain numerals, and instead of five the words your hand,2 and instead of eleven the words there are ten. Although Frazer suggests (p. 559) that Perhaps such substitutes for the ordinary numbers are intended to deceive evil spirits who may be lying in wait to steal or harm the corn, and who are presumably too dull-witted to comprehend these eccentric modes of enumeration, I am inclined to think that their nature suggests rather that they are meant to render the vicinities so distasteful to such spirits while the counting is proceeding that they will remain at a distance and consequently will remain ignorant of its outcome. And, as a corollary, that when, at the numbering of the Children of Israel as recorded in Exodus xxx. 11-16, each person had to give half a shekel so that there be no plague among them, the money may well have been used to pay for ceremonies either propitiatory of demons or exorcising in character. It would seem very probable that often one of the determining factors in this, to us curious, aversion to enumeration is a fear of exciting the

Science versus Materialism

THE title of this book is rather misleading, since its main theme is an exposition of the author's 'philosophy' of vitalism, versus a scientific description of the phenomena of living organisms in terms of the existing concepts and laws of physics and chemistry. In this connexion he appears to be a 'materialist', that is, when he is contrasting the phenomena of life with what he calls the “material Universe”, by which he seems to denote inanimate things. His great argument here is that living organisms cannot arise solely from the action of “matter on matter”. He admits that the laws of physics and chemistry are operative in living organisms, but holds that they do not fully determine the “pattern”of life. This, according to him, is “doubly determined”, that is, determined not only by the laws of physics and chemistry but also by “something else”. This something else is “non-material”. Science versus Materialism By Prof. Reginald O. Kapp. Pp. vi + 280. (London: Methuen and Co., Ltd., 1940.) 10s. 6d. net.