Archive for December, 2008

Isagoge: Chapter 4 — Of Property

Tuesday, December 30th, 2008

The remaining chapters are fairly short, and this is no exception. I’ve used the word property in the previous blog posts on the Isagoge; here, Porphyry defines it. The word has four senses:

Property they divide in four ways: for it is that which happens to some one species alone, though not to every (individual of that species), as to a man to heal, or to geometrize:

1. Properties peculiar to a species though not to every member, such as writing blog posts: only human beings do it, but not all human beings.

…that also which happens to a whole species, though not to that alone, as to man to be a biped:

2. Properties shared by all members of the species, but not confined to that species, as being bipedal.

…that again, which happens to a species alone, and to every (individual of it), and at a certain time, as to every man to become grey in old age:

3. Properties shared by all members of the species at some point in their history. This strikes me as a subset of sense #2.

…in the fourth place, it is that in which it concurs (to happen) to one species alone, and to every (individual of it), and always, as risibility to a man; for though he does not always laugh, yet he is said to be risible, not from his always laughing, but from being naturally adapted to laugh, and this is always inherent in him, in the same way as neighing in a horse.

4. Properties shared by all members of a species, and only by members of that species, as the ability to laugh.

Sense #4 is the narrowest sense:

They say also that these are validly properties, because they reciprocate, since if any thing be a horse it is capable of neighing, and if any thing be capable of neighing it is a horse.

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Saturday, December 27th, 2008

Isagoge: Chapter 3:4 — Of Difference

Saturday, December 27th, 2008

In this paragraph, Porphyry wraps up his discussion on the nature of logical difference. I’m not sure it adds much, especially given Thomas’ discussion in De Ente et Essentia, but there are a few interesting points:

Again, they define it (difference) also thus: difference is that which is predicated of many things differing in species in answer to the question, of what kind a thing is, for rational and mortal being predicated of man, are spoken in reply to what kind of thing man is, and not as to the question what is he. For when we are asked what is man, we properly answer, an animal, but when men inquire what kind of animal, we say properly, that he is rational and mortal.

Porphyry made this distinction between “what a thing is” and “what kind of a thing it is” back at the beginning of the Isagoge. Let’s expand on this a bit.

If I point at Socrates, and ask “What is that?” no one is going to answer, “Oh, that’s an animal”. They are going to say, “Oh, that’s Socrates.” If I then ask, “What is Socrates?” I might get the answer “A man.” If I ask, “What kind of a man?” I might get a variety of answers, of which “A philosopher” is probably the best. It’s when I ask “What is man?” that the answer “an animal” becomes appropriate. In other words, the question “What is X?” has a different answer depending on whether X is an individual or a species/genus. In the former case, “X” is a member of its species; in the latter, a member of its genus. And the question “What kind of Y is X?” again has a different answer depending on whether X is an individual or a species/genus.

Regarding the word “mortal”, remember that for Porphyry “mortal” is the difference that distinguishes man from the gods.

For since things consist of matter and form, or have a constitution analogous to matter and form, as a statue is composed of brass, matter, but of figure, form, so also man, both common and specific, consists of matter analogous to genus, and of form analogous to difference, but the whole of this, animal, rational, mortal, is man, in the same manner as the statue there.

Matter is analogous to genus and form analogous to difference. Hmmm. I cannot recall, at the moment, whether Thomas says that form derives from difference or from species; and the word “analogous” here strikes me as somewhat loosey-goosey. I don’t think Porphyry’s using the word quite as Thomas does.

They also describe it thus, difference is what is naturally adapted to separate things which are under the same genus, as rational and irrational separate man and horse, which are under the same genus, animal. Again, they give it in this way: difference is that by which each singular thing differs, for man and horse do not differ as to genus, for both we and horses are animals, but the addition of rational separates us from them; again, both we and the gods are rational, but the addition of mortal separates us from them. They however who more nicely discuss what pertains to difference, say that it is not any casual thing dividing those under the same genus, but such as contributes to the essence, and to the definition of the essence of a thing, and which is part of the thing. For to be naturally adapted to sail is not the difference, though it is the property of man, since we may say that of animals, some are naturally adapted to sail, but others not, separating man from other animals; yet a natural ability to sail does not complete the essence, neither is a part of it, but only an aptitude of it, because it is not such a difference as those which are called specific differences. Wherefore specific differences will be such as produce another species, and which are assumed in explaining the very nature of a thing: and concerning difference this is sufficient.

Of the preceding I found the highlighted sentence to be the most interesting. I’ve often pondered what you do with characteristics that are shared by some but not all animals. Flying, for example, is characteristic of birds, but also of insects; but not of all birds or all insects. A bird, therefore is not a “flying animal”: “flying” is not the specific difference of the species “bird”. Rather, it’s a property of some kinds of bird, and of some kinds of insect.

Isagoge: Chapter 3:3 — Of Difference

Wednesday, December 24th, 2008

Next comes a small but confusing paragraph. We’ll take it line by line. Bear in mind that Porphyry has just finished an extended example of specific differences:

These indeed are especially useful for divisions of genera, and for definitions, yet not with regard to those which are inseparable accidentally, nor still more with such as are separable.

In other words, specific differences are useful for definitions, but not the other kinds of differences: those at are separable, and those that inseperable but accidental. As a footnote in the translation says, “accidental definition is, in fact, merely a description”. That is to say, I can describe a dog, or a breed of dog, in great detail but in doing so I haven’t captured the essence of a dog–I haven’t defined what it is to be a dog.

And indeed defining these, they say that difference is that by which species exceeds genus, e. g. man exceeds animal in being rational and mortal,

And again, this is reasonable, bearing in mind that for St. Thomas man is merely a rational animal, for all animals are mortal.

It’s the next bit that confuses me:

for animal is neither any one of these, (since whence would species have differences?) nor has it all the opposite differences, (since otherwise the same thing would at the same time have opposites,) but (as they allege) it contains all the differences which are under it in capacity, but not one of them in energy, and so neither is any thing produced from non-entities, nor will opposites at the same time subsist about the same thing.

I think what’s going on here is this: Porphyry is saying that a species has to have everything that pertains to its genus, and nothing that is opposite to its genus. I suspect that by “capacity” and “energy” Porphyry means something like “potency” and “act” (or possible vice-versa), but I’m not sure. He’s using terminology I’ve not run into before.

Isagoge: Chapter 3:2 — Of Difference

Monday, December 22nd, 2008

Good grief, I’ve been remiss. Time to get back in harness.

In the second paragraph of the chapter 3 of the Isagoge, Porphyry expands on the notion of difference. I think I’m going to have to build some outlines, here.

According then, to the differences which produce another thing do the divisions of genera into species arise, and the definitions arising from genus and such differences are assigned. On the other hand, as to those which only make a thing different in quality, diversities alone consist, and the changes of subsistence of a thing; beginning then, again, from the first, we must say that of differences some are separable, others inseparable, thus to be moved, and to be at rest, to be ill, and to be well, and such as resemble these, are separable, but to have a crooked, or a flat nose, to be rational, or irrational, are inseparable differences.

Thus far, we have the following:

  • Difference
    • In Kind vs. In Quality
    • Separable vs. Inseparable

I am rational; a dog is not. This is a difference in kind. This dog is white; that dog is black. This is a difference in quality.

This dog is a Golden Retriever, but that dog is not. This is an inseparable difference. This dog is currently asleep; that dog is currently chasing a cat. This is a separable difference.

It’s clear that “inseparable” doesn’t mean “unchanging”. Being human, my nose has a shape–at all times, my nose has a shape. Even if my nose is cut off, I am a human being who is lacking a nose. I mean to say, people would notice–it would be as plain as the nose off my face.

Again, of the inseparable, some exist per se, others by accident, for rational, mortal, to be susceptible of science, are inherent in man per se, but to have a crooked or flat nose, accidentally, and not per se. Wherefore, such as are present per se, are assumed in the definition of substance, and effect a different thing, but what are accidental are neither taken in the definition of substance, nor render a thing another, but of another quality.

Aha! I need to adjust my outline.

  • Difference
    • In Kind
      • Essential
      • Inseparable, per se (i.e., a property)
    • In Quality
      • Inseparable, by accident
      • Separable

I’m actually not quite sure about what I have there for differences in kind. It seems to me that when Porphyry talks about differences per se he’s talking about both the specific difference, which is what makes this thing the kind of thing it is, and about other differences–properties, as they are called–which are always there for things of this kind. But I could be mistaken. I’ll note that Rune’s Dictionary of Philosophy defines a property as follows:

In Aristotle’s logic (1) an attribute common to all members of a species and peculiar to them; (2) an attribute of the above sort not belonging to the essence of the species, but necessarily following from it.

Be all that as it may, there’s a further distinction between differences that are inseparable per se and those that inseparable accidentally:

Those too, which are per se, do not admit of the more and less, but the accidental, even if they be inseparable, admit of intention and remission, for neither is genus more and less predicated of that of which it is the genus, nor the differences of genus according to which it is divided. For these are such as complete the definition of each thing, but the essence of each is one and the same, and neither admits of intention, nor remission; to have however a crooked or a flat nose, or to be in some way coloured, admits both of intension and remission.

OK; you’re an animal or you’re not. You’re rational, or you’re not. But your nose can be more or less crooked, more or less pink. I’m puzzled by the words “intention” and “remission” in this context.

Next we have a detailed example of specific differences that relate to the genus “animal”:

Since then, there are three species of difference considered, some indeed separable, but others inseparable, again, of the inseparable, some are per se, but others accidental, moreover of differences per se, some are those according to which we divide genera into species, but others according to which the things divided become specific:–thus of all such differences per se of animal as these, animated and sensitive, rational and irrational, mortal and immortal, the difference of animated and sensitive is constitutive of the essence of animal, for animal is an animated substance, endued with sense, but the difference of mortal and immortal, and that of rational and irrational, are the divisive differences of animal, for through these we divide genera into species: yet these very differences which divide the genera are constitutive and completive of species. For animal is divided by the difference of rational and irrational, and again, by the difference of mortal and immortal; but the differences of rational and mortal are constitutive of man, but those of rational and immortal of God, those again, of mortal and irrational, of irrational animals. Thus also, since the differences of animate and inanimate, sensitive and void of sense, divide the highest substance, animate and sensitive added to substance, complete animal, but animate and deprived of sense, form plant; since then, the same differences taken in one way become constitutive, but in another divisive, they are all called specific.

So rocks differ from animals in that they are not animate. Plants are animate, but differ from animals in that they are not sensitive–that is, they have no sensitive soul, no powers of sensation. Animals are sensitive but not rational, as men are; and animals are not immortal, as the gods are.

The most interesting bit of the above example is the suggestion that the difference between men and gods is that the gods are immortal. A footnote suggests that Porphyry assumes the Stoic notion of the gods; in any event, this is a facet that St. Thomas did not perpetuate.

Isagoge: Chapter 3:1 — Of Difference

Tuesday, December 16th, 2008

Now, you know and I know that when Thomas speaks of “difference” he means the specific difference, that which distinguishes species from another within the same genus. Man is a rational animal, that is, an animal that is rational; animal is his species genus, and rational his difference.

Porphyry, in his usual way, begins with the common meaning of the word “difference,” and moves on from there.

Difference may be predicated commonly, properly, and most properly:….

So: three kinds of difference: common, proper, and most proper.

….for one thing is said to differ from another in common from its differing in some respect in diversity of nature, either from itself, or from something else; for Socrates differs from Plato in diversity of nature, and himself from himself when a boy, and when become a man, also when he does any thing, or ceases to do it, and it is always perceived in the different ways in which a thing is somehow effected.

In the common sense, this differs from that when, well, this differs from that. I think we get that.

Again, one thing is said to differ properly from another, when one differs from another by an inseparable accident; but an inseparable accident is such as blueness, or crookedness, or a scar become scirrhous from a wound.

That is, when they differ in quality.

Moreover, one is most properly said to differ from another, when it varies by specific difference, as man differs from horse by specific difference, i. e. by the quality of rational.

So specific difference is the most proper use of the term.

Universally then every difference acceding to a thing renders it different, but differences common and proper render it different in quality, and the most proper render it another thing.

Aha! A white dog and a black dog are both dogs, but two things that differ in the most proper way, by a specific difference, are two different kinds of thing. Which is, of course, why it’s called a “specific” difference:

Hence, those which render it another thing are called specific, but those, which make it different in quality, are simply (called) differences, for the difference of rational being added to animal, makes it another thing, (and makes a species of animal,) but difference of being moved makes it different in quality only from what is at rest, so that the one renders it another thing, but the other only of another quality.

So far, so good. I confess, I’m not entirely sure why Porphyry distinguishes above between common and proper differences, but I’m not sure that it matters, either.

Isagoge: Chapter 2:5 — Of the Nature of Genus and Species

Saturday, December 13th, 2008

In this paragraph, Porphyry takes a great while to explain how comprehension and extension vary as you go up and down the chain of genera, species, and individuals. I’m not going to take it apart; you can read it for yourself. I’ll summarize at the end.

Genus then, and species, being each of them explained as to what it is, since also genus is one, but species many, (for there is always a division of genus into many species,) genus indeed is always predicated of species, and all superior of inferior, but species is neither predicated of its proximate genus, nor of those superior, since it does not reciprocate. For it is necessary that either equals should be predicated of equals, as neighing of a horse, or that the greater should be predicated of the less, as animal of man, but the less no longer of the greater, for you can no longer say that animal is man, as you can say that man is animal. Of those things however whereof species is predicated, that genus of the species will also be necessarily predicated, also that genus of the genus up to the most generic; for if it is true to say that Socrates is a man, but man an animal, and animal substance, it is also true to say that Socrates is animal and substance. At least, since the superior are always predicated of the inferior, species indeed will always be predicated of the individual, but the genus both of the species and of the individual, but the most generic both of the genus or the genera, (if the media and subaltern be many,) and of the species, and of the individual. For the most generic is predicated of all the genera, species, and individuals under it, but the genus which is prior to the most specific (species), is predicated of all the most specific species and individuals; but what is species alone of all the individuals (of it), but the individual of one particular alone.14 Now, an individual is called Socrates, this white thing, this man who approaches the son of Sophroniscus, if Socrates alone is his son, and such things are called individuals, because each consists of properties of which the combination can never be the same in any other, for the properties of Socrates can never be the same in any other particular person; the properties of man indeed, (I mean of him as common,) may be the same in many, or rather in all particular men, so far as they are men. Wherefore the individual is comprehended in the species, but the species by the genus, for genus is a certain whole, but the individual is a part, and species |618 both a whole and a part; part indeed of something else, but a whole not of another, but in other things, for the whole is in its parts. Concerning genus then, and species, we have shown what is the most generic, and the most specific, also what the same things are genera and species, what also are individuals, and in how many ways genus and species are taken.

In short, the species is predicated of every individual in the species; the genus is predicated of every species within it, and so on up the chain. Thus, Socrates is a man, an animal, a body, and a substance.

It’s tempting to think of genera and species as mathematical sets: a species is the set of all individuals in the species, a genus is the set of all individuals in the species, and so forth, and indeed this is the way modern logic encourages us to think. But to do so is to confuse genera and species with their extensions: remember that the extension of a genus or species is precisely the individuals of which the genus or species is predicated. But genera do not contain individuals; they contain species. And in addition to extension, each genus and species has a comprehension, that is, a meaning. The extension of the species Man is all men precisely because all men are rational animals. Individual men belong to the species because they fit the defining criteria; a species is not an arbitrary set of individuals.

Given that, we can say that every genus has a wider extension than any species within it, and every species has a more precise–indeed, more specific–comprehension than its genus.

Isagoge: Chapter 2:4 — Of the Nature of Genus and Species

Friday, December 12th, 2008

So, how many genera and species are there? First, there are the ones in the middle:

Now, the media of the extremes they call subaltern species and genera, and admit each of them to be species and genus, when referred indeed to different things, for those which are prior to the most specific, ascending up to the most generic, are called subaltern genera and species. Thus, Agamemnon is Atrides, Pelopides, Tantalides, and lastly, (the son) of Jupiter,….

OK; we talked about this kind yesterday. Why go on about it now?

…yet in genealogies they refer generally to one origin, for instance, to Jupiter; but this is not the case in genera and species, since being is not the common genus of all things, nor, as Aristotle says, are all things of the same genus with respect to one summum genus.

Aha! In a genealogy (aha! genus; genealogy. D’oh!) there’s one genus that’s most generic. But there is no single genus to which all beings belong. Why? Because “being” is a term of courtesy:

Still, let the first ten genera be arranged, as in the Categories, as ten first principles, and even if a person should call all things beings, yet he will call them, so he says, equivocally, but not synonymously, for if being were the one common genus of all things, all things would be synonymously styled beings, but the first principles being ten, the community is in name only, yet not in the definition also belonging to the name: there are then ten most generic genera.

Substances are different than quantities, which are different than qualities, which are different than relations, etc. We call all of these things “beings” by courtesy, in that they can all be objects of thought, but clearly “whiteness” is a different class of thing than “dog”. Per Aristotle, there are ten distinct kinds of thing, the ten Categories, and hence ten most generic genera. There are ten trees, with the Categories as starting points.

On the other hand, the most specific they place in a certain number, yet not in an infinite one, but individuals which are after the most specific are infinite; wherefore, when we have come down to the most specific from the most generic, Plato exhorts us to rest, but to descend through those things which are in the middle, dividing by specific differences; he tells us however to leave infinites alone, as there cannot be science of these.

OK, there are a finite number of most-specific species, what we might call species proper; why, necessarily, a finite number? But individuals within species are infinite. Again, why? And per Plato, we should think about the genera and species and not waste any time on individuals, because there cannot be any certain knowledge of these….because, evidently, the number of them is infinite. Of course, we know that Plato regarded the Ideas (which would correspond, presumably, to the genera and species) as really real, and the things we perceive with our senses as less so, and I presume this dictum has something to do with that. Aristotle and Thomas disagree.

In descending then, to the most specific, it is necessary to proceed by division through multitude, but in ascending to the most generic, we must collect multitude into one, for species is collective of the many into one nature, and genus yet more so;….

Oh, right, that’s where division comes from. When I take a concept and make a distinction, I’m logically dividing the concept. Anyway, yes, genera have greater extension than the species within them.

….but particulars and singulars, on the contrary, always divide the one into multitude, for by the participation of species, many men become one man; but in particulars and singulars, the one, and what is common, becomes many; for the singular is always divisive, but what is common is collective and reductive to one.

Again, I see the Platonic hand here. Particulars, like “Some men have black hair,” clearly divide the one essence, human nature, into a multitude of individual men. But in what sense can we possibly say that a singular, like Socrates, we divide human nature into a multitude?

Isagoge: Chapter 2:3 — Of the Nature of Genus and Species

Thursday, December 11th, 2008

I’ve been taking a lot longer to get through this than I’d hoped, for which I apologize; I’ve been struggling through a cold for the last week, and haven’t felt up to struggling through Porphyry.

Today’s paragraph is long and daunting, but I think it’s actually fairly straightforward. Remember that last time we looked at the definition of genus. Today we move on to the definition of species. First, Porphyry gives what I imagine was the common, familiar definition of species in his day:

Species indeed is predicated of every form, according to which it is said, “form is first worthy of imperial sway;”….

Every form, in other words, is a species. However, that’s not what we usually mean:

…still that is called species also, which is under the genus stated, according to which we are accustomed to call man a species of animal, animal being genus, but white a species of colour, and triangle of figure.

OK, so we’re entering familiar territory; now, what else does Porphyry have to tell us? Feel free to read the passage; I think he rather belabors the point, but it’s more straightforward than it looks.

Nevertheless, if when we assign the genus, we make mention of species, saying that which is predicated of many things differing in species, in reply to what a thing is, and call species that which is under the assigned genus, we ought to know that, since genus is the genus of something, and species the species of something, each of each, we must necessarily use both in the definitions of both. They assign, therefore, species thus: species is what is arranged under genus, and of which genus is predicated in reply to what a thing is: moreover, thus species is what is predicated of many things differing in number, in reply to what a thing is. This explanation, however, belongs to the most special, and which is species only, but no longer genus also, but the other (descriptions) will pertain to such as are not the most special. Now, what we have stated will be evident in this way: in each category there are certain things most generic, and again, others most special, and between the most generic and the most special, others which are alike called both genera and species, but the most generic is that above which there cannot be another superior genus, and the most special that below which there cannot be another inferior species. Between the most generic and the most special, there are others which are alike both genera and species, referred, nevertheless, to different things, but what is stated may become clear in one category. Substance indeed, is itself genus, under this is body, under body animated body, under which is animal, under animal rational animal, under which is man, under man Socrates, Plato, and men particularly. Still, of these, substance is the most generic, and that which alone is genus; but man is most specific, and that which alone is species; yet body is a species of substance, but a genus of animated body, also animated body is a species of body, but a genus of animal; again, animal is a species of animated body, but a genus of rational animal, and rational animal is a species of animal, but a genus of man, and man is a species of rational animal, but is no longer the genus of particular men, but is species only, and every thing prior to individuals being proximately predicated of them, will be species only, and no longer genus also. As then, substance being in the highest place, is most generic, from there being no genus prior to it, so also man being a species, after which there is no other species, nor any thing capable of division into species, but individuals, (for Socrates, Plato, Alcibiades, and this white thing, I call individual,) will be species alone, and the last species, and as we say the most specific. Yet the media will be the species of such as are before them, but the genera of things after them, so that these have two conditions, one as to things prior to them, according to which they are said to be their species, the other to things after them, according to which they are said to be their genera. The extremes on the other hand, have one condition, for the most generic has indeed a condition as to the things under it, since it is the highest genus of all, but has no longer one as to those before it, being supreme, and the first principle, and, as we have said, that above which there cannot be another higher genus. Also, the most specific has one condition, as to the things prior to it, of which it is the species, yet it has not a different one, as to things posterior to it, but is called the species of individuals, so termed as comprehending them, and again, the species of things prior to it, as comprehended by them, wherefore the most generic genus is thus defined to be that which being genus is not species, and again, above which there cannot be another higher genus; but the most specific species, that, which being species is not genus, and which being species we can no longer divide into species; moreover, which is predicated of many things differing in number, in reply to what a thing is.

What Porphyry has done is make explicit something that I had eventually figured out from Aquinas’ use of the terms: a species can itself be a genus containing species of its own. Some genera (i.e., the Categories) have no higher genus; some species (e.g., “man”) contain only individuals, rather than subspecies. And there are some in the middle. As Porphory points out, Socrates is a man, that is, a rational animal; an animal is an animated body; and a body is a material substance. To use a modern example, a genus is like a folder on your computer’s hard drive, and a species is like a subfolder. “My Computer” is like a Category, and a folder that contains only files is like a most special species, one that is not a genus in turn.

I confess that it rather amuses me to think of “man” as being “most special”.

Well, Boy Howdy!

Wednesday, December 10th, 2008

The Practicing Catholic has nominated me for the
Superior Scribbler award!


She says:

This gentleman is no doubt soon to become a Lay Dominican, and I already consider him an “honorary” Dominican by virtue of his great studiousness. His Blogging Aquinas project is one of the best uses of blogging I’ve come across. In one early post, he explains, “I’m not writing this blog to share my vast fund of knowledge; I’m writing it to learn.” I think this is true of most good bloggers to some extent, but Will takes it to a serious new level: studying the works of St. Thomas Aquinas and related works on Aristotelian philosophy! Color me impressed! Will also has the blog, The View from the Foothills, which contains lots of excellent book reviews among other things!

I don’t know whether to blush more at the award or the company in which I received it; she also awarded it to Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP, of Domine, da Mihi Hanc Aquam and Tom Kreitzberg, OPL, of Disputations.

In order to properly accept the award, I need to post the rules (see below) and award it to five other bloggers. The difficulty here is that many of my favorite bloggers have already received it from someone else, with Hettie at The Practicing Catholic being a prime example. I shall try to pick bloggers who have not yet been so honored; I don’t know whether or not I shall succeed.

The first is clearly “a thomist” at Just Thomism. I have no idea who this person is, or why they’ve been posting their reflections on Thomistic philosophy to the web on a daily basis for the past several years; but I’ve found their reflections to be helpful in understanding just what it is that St. Thomas Aquinas and his followers are saying.

Next, I’ll hand the accolade to Phil and Lars at Brandywine Books, two blog-buddies of long-standing. Thanks to Lars in particular, I’m now aware of the weird world of “live steel” viking combat.

Captain Yips is but one of many bloggers to comment on the on-going meltdown of Anglicanism in the United States, and I’ve consistently found him to be one of the most thoughtful and least vitriolic of the whole crew.

Timothy Jones’ “Old World Swine” is a neat Catholic blog written by a neat Catholic artist.

Well, I dunno. He’s an artist; he might be quite slovenly, I have no idea.

And finally, I think, I’m going to send this to Sister Mary Martha, the most delightful nun on the Internet. At least, she’s the only blogging nun whose blog I read. If you want to know anything about Catholicism, ask Sister Mary Martha!

The rules are as follows:

Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.

Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.

Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains The Award.

Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List (scroll down). That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!

Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.