Wisdom (Metaphysics 2005) Lecture 8: Wisdom as Knowledge of God and the Beginning of Wonder Transcript ================================================================================ If you take Heraclitus there, the central thinking human thought, we have two beautiful proportions that come down to us from Heraclitus. And one is that as a child is to a man, so is man to God, right? Well, you know that to a little boy, daddy seems to what? Know everything, right? But in comparison to what? God, man is like a little boy, right? Okay. But it shows that same humility, right? And that the wisdom of man is vastly inferior to God, if you could use the word wisdom at all for man, right? Okay. And then the other proportion of Heraclitus is, as an ape is to a man, so is man to God, right? He says, as the ape is ugly, and so on, in comparison to man, inferior knowledge to man, so on, right? So man, compared to God, like an ape. So that's a beautiful way of putting man in his place, right? Sometimes, you know, I say, you know, what is the scientific name for man? I ask the students, and usually someone comes out with Homo sapiens. They've heard that, right? Well, Homo, although in Latin, means human being. The biologists use Homo for any man-like thing, so it's like an ape, you might say, huh? But sapiens means wise, huh? So in calling man the wise ape, are they contradicting the philosophers? Well, in comparison to the ape, he is wise. But in comparison to God, he'd be like the Homo that's not sapiens, right? You see? Now you find the same thing there in the Apology of Socrates, right? Where he gives his little business of his life there. And the oracle of Delphi, right? The good friend of Caraphon, the good friend of Socrates, went down to the oracle of Delphi, and he asked the oracle, Is anybody wiser than Socrates? And the oracle replied, No one is wiser than Socrates. And Socrates says, Well, how could the oracle be saying that truly, huh? I'm so ignorant, right? But then he started to ask those who had a reputation for knowing something, or who claimed to know something. He found out that they didn't know what they claimed to know, right? Oh, that was what the oracle met he said, right? I know that I don't know, right? But these guys don't even know that they don't know, right? They don't know either, but they don't know they don't know. So they're doubly ignorant, right? They're really dumb, right? See? So man's wisdom consists more in knowing that he doesn't know, right? Than in knowing much, right? So, you know, Socrates, again, is saying that man is not wise in the way God is, right? Even if Socrates is correctly said by the oracle to be wiser than other men, it's not because he knows, something like God knows everything, right? But because maybe he knows he doesn't know, right? Okay? So it's very rare that Socrates claims to know anything, right? Now you find Aristotle saying the same thing here, right? Either we should say God alone is wise, right? Or God most of all, right? Either you shouldn't say man is wise at all, if you mean wisdom in any full sense, right? Or if you say man is wise in some way, it's in some imperfect way, right? Just like in knowing what is said of all, in some way, in a perfect way he knows all things, right? Just like when I know what a human being is in some way in everybody in this world. But in a very, what? In a perfect way, right? Yeah. So, Aristotle doesn't bother to syllogize for that second thing, because all the great Greek philosophers would agree about this, huh? It's only the moderns that think they're wiser than God and have that humility, you know? It's a real difference, huh? It's kind of interesting, you know, the first dialogue that I read of Plato there in the introduction of philosophy is the Camino, right? And the best guy there as far as being led by Socrates is a slave boy, right? And it's like the slave of the boy. It's the humility, right? To admit his mistake and to learn what he didn't know, right? The other guys don't, huh? They're too proud of them anyway, right? Now, sometimes instead of using a word, I'd like to use a speech, right? And I'd like to do that. So, instead of saying that wisdom is the most divine knowledge, I'm saying divine in two senses, right? It's about the divine, right? And it's had by the divine, most of all. Just like when you speak of knowledge as being human, you have those same two senses, right? And so when you speak of humanities, that's human in both senses, it's supposed to be, right? It's had by humans, about human beings, right? But I like to use sometimes the phrase and say, wisdom is the knowledge of God. But the knowledge of God in what? Both senses of that phrase, right? The knowledge of God could mean, or it could refer to the object of that knowledge, right? What you are knowing in that knowledge, right? Or it could refer to the one who has the knowledge, right? So, the phrase, the speech or knowledge of God has two meanings. And in both meanings, wisdom is the knowledge of God. It's a knowledge about God, and it's a knowledge had alone or most of all by God. And since God is the best and most honorable thing, then this must be the best and most honorable knowledge, right? Now, that's a syllogism, right? You see? You see, wisdom is the most divine knowledge. What's most divine is most honorable or best, right? Therefore, wisdom is the best and most honorable knowledge, right? Now, just to familiarize yourself with that phrase again, you've heard me give the definition of reason from my teacher, Shakespeare. And Shakespeare defines reason as the ability for a large discourse looking before and after, right? Now, is the definition of reason a knowledge of reason? What would you say? In what sense of knowledge of reason? It's a knowledge of what reason is, yeah, but who has that knowledge by definition? What defines things and knows them by definition? For the eyes and the ears and the sense of taste? Yeah, the reason does, right? So, the definition of reason, right, is a knowledge of reason in both what? Senses, right? In both senses. You see that? It's a knowledge had by reason about reason, right? Okay. Now, what about the definition of square? An equilateral and right-angled quadrilateral. Is that a knowledge of reason? In one sense, it is, right? It's a knowledge had by reason, right? It's that distinct knowledge which reason has of what the square is, right? It's an equilateral and right-angled quadrilateral. But is it a knowledge about reason itself? No. You see that? Okay. So, let's take another little, Aristotle has a work called the Dianima in Latin. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. So, let's take another one. I've heard this case in Greek, about the soul, right? Now, the three books about the soul are a knowledge of the soul. In both senses or one sense? Both senses, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah. In other words, the dianima is a knowledge which our soul has of itself, right? So it's a knowledge of the soul in both senses, right? Now, is geometry a knowledge of the soul? In one sense it is, yeah. It's a knowledge had by our soul, right? But it's not a knowledge about the soul. You see the depth? Yeah. Okay. So just as the three books about the soul are a knowledge of the soul in both senses of that, and the definition of reason is a knowledge of reason in both senses of knowledge of reason, right? So, wisdom is a knowledge of God in both, what, senses of knowledge of God. What did certain wise men put down this education of the Oral Codeltai? I think so. Yeah. I don't think so, Tom, right? And you could say that is, in one way, among other things, urging us, our soul to pursue a knowledge of what the soul is, huh? Okay? You know how in the modern world they don't ask, they don't think about what the soul is anymore, let alone understand what the soul is, right? But if you don't even think about what the soul is, you're never going to understand what the soul is, huh? In the first book about the soul, after Aristotle has his cranium issues, right, he goes through what all his predecessors, thinking about the soul, involved, right? And they all thought about what the soul is, but none of them knew what it was. It's not until the beginning of the second book about the soul that Aristotle succeeds in understanding what the soul is. So it took the Greeks, you know, a couple hundred years, you might say, right, thinking about what the soul is before one man finally came to know what the soul is. But we don't even think about what the soul is anymore, right? Okay? You're like, do I have a soul? I don't know. Do you see? And even Shakespeare's wise in that, right, huh? And I always quote the line in Beatrice, Much Ado About Nothing, right? Where Hero, the girl, is falsely accused, right, huh? And her cousin Beatrice knows that she's what? You see? Yeah, yeah. And Beatrice's friend, Benedict, wants to know, is she sure that Hero, you know, has been falsely accused, right? I'm as sure that she's innocent as I have a soul, she says. You know? Maybe somebody asked me, you know, was George Washington the first president of that state? And I'd say, yes, right? You see, are you sure about that, Mr. Breakfast? I want to emphasize, I am very sure about it. I say, I'm as sure about that as I am that two plus two is four. Okay, that's kind of, you know? But her phrase was, I'm as sure, you know, as I have a soul, right? So they have a soul. And the word means, right? So they don't even know what the word means, so I don't want to think about the thing. They don't understand what the soul is. But he's also urging us to follow Shakespeare, some of them will tell us what reason is, right? You know? Because in a strict sense, reason is the only part of us that can know itself, right? And so when reason defines reason, then reason has a knowledge of itself. So that definition of reason is a knowledge of the soul, excuse me, a knowledge of reason, in both senses, right? I think it's kind of interesting to see that, huh? So Aristotle writes the book on, on, um, cystic refutations, huh? And he talks about the six kinds of mistakes from words, right? And then the seven kinds of mistakes outside of words, right? from something outside of words. But the first two kinds of mistakes from words are where a single word has more than one sense, or where a speech, like knowledge of God, right, has more than one sense, huh? And where someone mixes up these, right? Okay. So maybe in one sense I might say that our theology is a knowledge of God, right? And in another sense I might say it's not a knowledge of God, right? Okay, right? And you want to lift up those two senses, do you? Okay. Or I might say that the definition of square is and is not a knowledge of reason, right? You see? And you apparently can't get to yourself, right? But you're not, huh? Because the sense in which the definition of square is a knowledge of reason is not the sense of knowledge of reason when you say it's not a knowledge of reason. Right? Do you see that? See, you should be, you know, it's important. I kind of like those phrases, though. Knowledge of reason, knowledge of the soul, and now supreme example, or knowledge of God, right, huh? Okay? That's kind of nice, huh? Another one of my favorite ones is the phrase word of God, right, huh? So the word of God in one sense is about the word of God in another sense. It's kind of nice because you type the two together in your mind, right? It's kind of clear when you read Vatican II that the greatest books of the Bible are the Gospels, right? And everything, in a sense, prepares the way for the Gospels or builds upon them, but the Gospels are about the word of God made flesh, right? For some reason, it's probably, you know, the word of God made flesh to the Bible, in another sense, huh? God speaking in a kind of human language to us, so the word of God becomes flesh. But two different senses of the word of God, huh? Um, but one is about the other, right? Okay. Now, what's beautiful about this here, too, the rest of us not putting it out here, it'd be the twelfth book of wisdom to point out, but you could say the knowledge of God, meaning the knowledge that God has, right, is chiefly a knowledge, what, of God, right, huh? God knows nothing else except by knowing himself, right? So the knowledge of God, the knowledge that God himself has, right, is primarily a knowledge of God, okay? Nothing less could define his knowledge, as Aristotle says in the twelfth book. That's kind of interesting, right? But that's not Aristotle's point here so much, right? He's talking about wisdom is the knowledge of God in these two senses, right? Wisdom is the knowledge of the first cause, the first cause is God, therefore wisdom must be a knowledge of God, huh? And then as we think God is being, what, wiser than men, right, huh? So it's the kind of knowledge also that God himself would have, right? But when we study God's knowledge in the twelfth book, we see that what God chiefly knows is himself. Okay. And Thomas will bring that up very much, huh? Now, he used the term there, more honorable, right, huh? As he says at the end here, all other kinds of knowledge are more necessary than this, right? But none is better, right? So he's saying this knowledge is the best and the most, what, honorable, right? But the syllogism for that is that it's what? The most divine, right? So you have two syllogisms here at the end. One is that wisdom is the most divine knowledge, right? The most divine knowledge is the best and most honorable. Therefore, wisdom is the best and most honorable knowledge, right? Then you have a syllogism leading up to one of those things, right? Wisdom is now the first cause. The first cause is God. The first cause is God. Therefore, wisdom is a knowledge of God, right? But that wisdom is a knowledge had most of all by God, right? It just takes thoughts, you know? All we philosophers agree, right? All the great Greek philosophers agree about that. That either God will be called wise, or only God wise in the full sense. You don't have that humility in the modern philosophers, huh? It's really kind of a... I was reading Thomas' commentary there, or exposition there, the Gospel of St. Matthew, right? And he was talking about the fall there of Peter, right? Okay? And how Peter fell because of what? Pride, right? Okay? In some sense, even though all the rest of these guys, the rest of you abandoned him, I wouldn't. See? And he'd have to die, you know? He's relying upon himself in a sense rather than upon God, right? And even, you know, Christ has said, you know, the flock will be dispersed, right? And he's believing, not believing Christ, right? So on. And Thomas makes a very great statement that God hates pride, right? You know? That's part of the reason why he allows, what, Peter to fall, right? So he'll learn humility. The other reasons, you know, some days given, you know, that Peter's going to be the head of the church, and you want him to be merciful and not, you know, overly severe, right? And to recognize, you know, his weakness as a man, right? But humility is the reason Thomas gave him there in the commentary. It's kind of interesting, huh? God hates pride, huh? But in the Summa Congentele, as Thomas calls that presumption of pride, the mater, or worries, right? The mother of error. And Aristotle talks about that, too, huh? Pride being the cause of error. So it's on the side of the heart, you know? So I think the humility of the Greek philosophers has something to do with the fact that they got somewhere, finally. It took a long time, you know? But the pride of the modern philosophers is one of the main causes of their downfall, right? And it's kind of interesting, you know, reflecting recently there, I've spoken before, you know, of how these most commonly read book of Plato and the Introduction to Philosophies around the country, and probably the most common work, not everybody has it in his Introduction to Philosophy, but it is the Apology, right? Sure. But that there are these four dialogues that often exist with the Apology, two leading up, the Mino and the Utifro, and then two following, the Crichto and the Phaedo. And they're all connected in various interesting ways. But in the Mino, you have the example of the humility of the, what, slave boy, right? You see? And Socrates has two conversations with the slave boy. The first one where he shows him that he's mistaken about a double square, right? And the second conversation where he actually teaches him, although he denies it, he's teaching him, how to double square, right? But, you know, it's like our Lord, when he sees the pride in the apostles there, and he says, he calls it, he talks about a little boy there, right? Unless you become like him, you'll never enter the kingdom of heaven, right? Unless you have the humility of the slave boy, right? You'll never become a, what, true philosopher, right? Okay? So it's kind of beautiful that he has the representation of the slave boy. You know, he's a nobody in that society, right? But you also say, at the same time, if you're somebody, right, and you have a reputation for a physician and so on, you're not going to be so apt to admit that you're mistaken. Aristotle has a little kind of second thought here a bit. He said that philosophy begins in wonder, right, huh? Now, by wonder you mean this desire to know the cause, huh? Then that wonder is going to disappear. right, once you come to know the cause. Now you've got to be careful because when Aristotle gets to God in the 12th book, and he talks about the excellence of God, right? And then he says, the excellence of God compels our wonder, right? Is he contradicting himself here? See? No. It's a different kind of wonder, right? Because the wonder that is the beginning of philosophy is a desire to know what you don't know, right? And so that wonder is going to disappear once you come to know what you don't know. Just like my hunger disappears once I've eaten, right? And satisfied that, right? But there's another kind of wonder, kind of an awe, you might say, right? Of the excellence of something that comes, not so much of ignorance, but from seeing the excellence of something. It's kind of like the wonder you have when you see a beautiful statue or a beautiful painting or something like that, right? It comes not from your ignorance of the painting or the statue, but from your, what, knowledge. But don't be deceived by the mistake of mixing up two different senses of wonder, right? Sometimes people try to get a synonym for each, and they'll say, well, one wonder is kind of like what you call curiosity, although curiosity has a bad sense, right? And the other wonder is kind of more like what we call admiration, right? Okay? I admire you because what I know about you that is good in you, right? I'm curious about you. I don't understand you. I don't know what you really are, right? I'm curious about what happened, you know? Okay? But science curiosity is taken for the vice, you know, of being interested in things that are unimportant, right? What you do is I do all the time. My wife, when you first was teaching, I was teaching out in one of the small towns here in Massachusetts, you know? And of course, everybody knows what everybody else is doing in town. You know, you can't go anybody's house without being known, you know? Okay. So he said, it's necessary ever to place a possession of this, a wonder, in the opposite for us of the searches in the beginning. For all begin, as we have said, from wondering if things are thus, as about things that happen wonderfully by chance. And of course, the film Muthas is presented with those things, right? You know how Friar Lawrence sends the word to, what, Romeo, that Juliet has just taken this potion that makes you appear to be dead, but the messenger never gets there because of the plague. Remember that? You see? So, terrible things happen by chance, right? Yeah. Or about the turnings of the sun, right? The sun seems to go up the sky and down the sky during the earth. What's going on here? Or the incommensurability of the diagonal. This is a very famous example from what? Geometry, right? In a square, you can't find a line that measures the side of the square and the diagonal of the square. It's impossible to do so, no matter how small the thing you take. Now, Thomas in his commentary here doesn't unfold fully the importance of that example of Aristotle, but I found text elsewhere where Thomas refers to this example and brings out something that the commentary doesn't bring out. Our wonder is aroused, most of all, not just when we don't know the cause of something, right? But we don't know the cause of something that happens contrary to what we expect. Okay? So, if I left go of this glass here and it fell to the ground, you would not be surprised it fell to the ground, right? But do you really know why it falls to the ground? No. But you expect it to fall to the ground, wouldn't you? If I fell, okay? Now, if I left go of it now and it went up, why did it go up? See? So it's something you don't expect takes place, right? Then you especially wonder why. Okay? And I remember when, I think I told the story before, but I got out proudly with my old teacher at the Surrey and said, get a copy of Euclid, Dwayne, and read it. And I said, why? And he said, get a copy of Euclid, read it. Okay. So I went out and I got a copy of Euclid, and read it. And my politician friend said, what are you doing, Dwayne? I'm studying geometry. You know, it's high school stuff, you know? And so I kind of went into this theorem there in and, uh, but... 3 of Euclid, right? And Euclid shows there that if you have, say, a line drawn at right angles to the end point here, right? It's going to touch the circle at just one point. And then it goes on and shows that you can't draw a straight line between the circle and that straight line that is what? Tangent. And therefore that the so-called orange angle is smaller than any rectilineal angle. Now, I was going to need my friend into this graduate and said, you know what a rectilineal angle is? You know, an angle formed by two straight lines meeting? You know? Okay. Now you could make that smaller and smaller and smaller, couldn't you, right? Like the scissors, you know, folding and closing up, right? Yeah. So, could you make two lines meeting that would be smaller than any rectilineal angle? Well, no, you couldn't because you can always make a rectilineal angle smaller as you want, right? Okay? And especially here because in between this line and this line, there's open space all the way down to that point because they touch only at a point. So it seems from that point, you can draw a straight line, right? They'll be closer to this than this is, right? But Euclid shows it's impossible. See? Well, that aroused my politician friend's wonder, right? Because it's contrary to what you would, what, expect, right? I know myself that if I'd never seen the theorem of Euclid and someone said, you draw a line from that point? Yeah, because there's open space all the way up. Mm-hmm. See? So it seems contrary to what I expect. A curved line can be a straight line at an angle less than any rectilineal angle. How small are you? Make those rectilineal angles, huh? I don't want to know why that's so. Right? See? I'm going to say, well, you'll get the answer, see? But Aristotle takes this in an even more famous example there of the incommensibility to the diagonal, right? And I remember when reading Einstein, and Einstein's little autobiographical sketch there, in the Harper edition there of Einstein, philosopher, scientist, you know? Just many essays by the people, right? And then Einstein's replying to them, right? Giving a little sketch of his life. But he makes that same point that Thomas makes, huh? That one's wonder is aroused when something contrary to what you expect, right, takes place, huh? Okay? You wouldn't expect God to become man and die for us, would you? No. So, when one is aroused, why did he do this, right? It's an interesting thing in Thomas' commentary there. When he gets to the words of Matthew, the only words that Matthew has on the cross is, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me, right? You know, the huge explanation of this is that it brings out the reality of Christ's suffering on the cross, and so on, right, huh? You know? But Thomas gives a number of reasons why he says this, right? But one reason is what? Why should God have done this? Kind of wonder, right? Do his own son suffer this way, right? It's interesting. So, he says, it is necessary, therefore, to finish in the contrary of wonder, and the better, right? It's better to know than to want to know, right? According to the proverb, Just as in these when they have learned, for the geometry had wondered nothing so much as if the diagonal were to become measurable. How did that happen? Okay? But notice, huh? Aristotle doesn't reason this way, but you could, I think. You could give us an additional reason why philosophy or wisdom is a knowledge of the first cause. The fact that it began in wonder, right? Because a man who wonders wants to know the cause, and if the cause has a cause, you know, the cause of the cause, right? And so wonder eventually makes you look for the very first cause of things. So, because philosophy began in wonder, it had to end in some kind of, what? Wisdom, right? Some kind of knowledge of the first cause, huh? That had to be the goal of philosophy if it began in, what? In wonder, yeah. That had to be the goal of philosophy, right? That had to be the goal of philosophy, right? That had to be the goal of philosophy, right? That had to be the goal of philosophy, right? Now, in this great dialogue called the Theotetus that I mentioned before, Socrates, when observing that philosophy begins in wonder, then he makes the kind of strange statement there. It wasn't a bad genealogy, he said, as the man who said that Iris is the offspring of Thalmas. Okay, did I mention that before? Yes, way back when. Yeah. Now, Thalmas is a Greek word for wonder, right? Thalmas saying, but Thalmas is like wonder personified, right? So Socrates saying, and I guess it refers to a passage in the great poet Hesiod, right? Hesiod says that Iris is the offspring of Thalmas, which is wonder personified. Now, who is Iris, right? Well, Iris appears, for example, in Homer, right? Iris, two things are said about Iris in the poets, huh? One is that Iris is the messenger of the gods or Zeus, and Iris is the rainbow personified, huh? Now, is it by chance that Iris is both the messenger of the gods and the rainbow personified, huh? Is there some connection between those two things that of Iris and Homer? Rich, heaven, and earth. Yeah, yeah, yeah. The rainbow unites heaven and earth, okay? And the messenger of the gods unites the gods with man, right? The gods have used their place, heaven, right? And then big on earth, right? So it's not by chance, I think, that Iris is those two things. I mean, they're connected, right? Now, Shakespeare in the play where he talks most about wonder, his farewell to the stage, huh? The tempest, huh? You have a vision there where Iris appears, right? And someone beats, you know, Hail, many-colored messenger! Well, many-colored messenger, right, huh? The Shakespeare did this. So what is the meaning, what does Socrates say? He doesn't explain himself there at all, right? Plato doesn't explain, right? It wasn't a bad genealogy, the man who said that Iris is the offspring of Elmas. Of course, I say to the students, maybe Plato stuck that line in there to see if you'd wonder about it, to see if you were a philosopher. See? If you were going to ask the question, why does Socrates think this wasn't a bad genealogy? Can you answer that now? What is he saying? It arouses wonder. Yeah? But he's saying, if Iris is the messenger of the gods, Iris in a way unites man with God, right, huh? Just like the rainbow unites the place of man, the earth, with heaven, which is the place of God, right, huh? So, to say that Iris is the offspring of wonder is to say that wonder in a way, what? Yeah, yeah. On the side of our, what? Reason. Reason, yeah. Because wonder makes us look for the cause, and if the cause has a cause, to look for the cause of the cause, right? And so on, until we come to the first cause. And the first cause is God, right? So wonder unites man with God, right, on the side of his reason, at least, right? And therefore, it makes not bad genealogy to say that Iris is the offspring of what? Almas, and it's beautifully said, as the poet, this thing is there, right, huh? But, as I say, another way of putting this is to say that because wonder is the beginning of philosophy, huh? And then the end of philosophy had to be, the goal of philosophy had to be a knowledge of God, right? A knowledge of the first cause. But the first cause being God is that it will be the end. And then the first cause being God is that it will be the end. So if someone asks you, what is wisdom? You might say, well, wisdom is the knowledge of God. It's the knowledge of God. In both senses, and I'll say what you mean. But stop and think, right? Just as a definition of reason is a knowledge of reason in both senses, right? But if you start to see how the definition of reason is a knowledge of reason in both senses, right? And how a knowledge of the soul, the dianima, is a knowledge of the soul in both senses, right? And you kind of see the way that that phrase can have those two meanings, huh? What about the definition of definition? So knowledge of definition by definition, right? But since logic arises away, because it's a thinking about thinking, right? And we don't begin by thinking about thinking, right? But logic arises because we can think about thinking. If we couldn't think about thinking, there'd be no what? There'd be no logic. Now at the end here at the bottom of page five, Aristotle has a little epilogue where he recalls the thing he's just done here in the third reading and then the thing he did in the, what? First two readings, huh? So what is the nature of the knowledge sought, then, has been said? It's looking knowledge, right? It's liberal knowledge. It's opposed to servile, free. It's not a human possession, right? But it's the best and most honorable knowledge because it's the most divine knowledge, right? And what is the goal that the investigation, and the Greek word there is, I think there is, I say, tesis, right? What is the goal that the search, right? And then he uses the Greek word methodos, which means, what, knowledge over a road, right? Must reach. And what is that goal? It's the knowledge of the first cause, right? And also, I emphasize this more, that wisdom is a knowledge of the first cause than it's a knowledge of what is said of all things, right? That might seem to be kind of vapid in this, right? I bet it's not, really, to get into it, but... But, notice, he reasons from wisdom being about the first cause, right? To its being the best and most honorable knowledge. He doesn't reason from it being a knowledge of what is said of all that is the best and most honorable knowledge, doesn't he? Okay? And yes, something like that earlier in the first reading, right? When he didn't reason that science or art is superior to experience from its knowing universal, right? In fact, he reasoned from that first difference to its inferiority as far as doing is concerned, right? But he wanted to reason from art or science being superior in knowing and in being wise or being like wisdom to over-experience, right? He reasoned from its knowing the, what? Cause, right? Do you see that? And now he reasons at the end of this second part that wisdom is the most honorable and the best knowledge not because it's about the most universal, but it's said of all, but because it's about the most universal cause. It's about the very first cause. It's about God, right? Okay? In some sense, we recognize the excellence of wisdom, what it is more than that. That's important when you get later on to what I call the great turnaround, right? Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.