Jacques Lefèvre d’Étaples sends many greetings to Robert Fortunatus,

the most vigilant moderator of the Collège de Plessis and champion of good literature.

A large decorative woodcut initial 'S' featuring a bird (possibly a swan or crane) with its neck curved, set against a background of floral and vine-like scrollwork.

You have always believed, as a spirited champion and indeed a defender of good literature from every quarter, that the proper way to establish and teach a curriculum is for upright men to know authors from their own works, not from the accounts of others. You believe that those who can distinguish the worthy authors from the unworthy are nearly on the path to wisdom, and that it is as much an error in studies to accept the wrong author as it is to wish to teach without a distinguished leader to light the way. This is very much as if someone wished to build a structure in the mid-air without a foundation—a vice that especially burdens those who follow narrow sects. For this very reason, you have striven to always shape your house of Plessis—noble indeed in both doctrine and character—so that you might have those who teach with purity, and not at all in a dull or barbaric In this context, "barbaric" refers to the "scholastic" Latin of the Middle Ages, which Renaissance humanists like Lefèvre rejected in favor of classical style. manner. Because of this method of teaching, you are accustomed to approve of many of the specific discussions in our study. Among these, you highly praise that collegiate house which once was founded by the most celebrated Jean, surnamed "the Monk," a Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, who gave his name to that place The Collège du Cardinal-Lemoine in Paris.. In that place, philosophers have long presided, and still preside today, who (as much as they were and are able to achieve) have never departed from this right standard of instruction based on the most proven authors. Nor are you alone in approving of these things; surely all the most learned men feel the same. Since this is the case, I have undertaken to prepare for you and those like you the books of Aristotle’s "First Philosophy" Aristotle's own name for what we now call Metaphysics. from the translation by Bessarion, since Aristotle himself is held to be the most proven author in philosophy beyond controversy. He himself called these books After the Physicsoriginal: "μετὰ τὰ φυσικὰ" (meta ta physika), though most others call them the Metaphysics.

¶ But what does this title, After the Physics, signify and what does it promise? In my opinion, it signifies nothing other than "after the things of nature" or "after natural things." Nevertheless, it is worth knowing that philosophy encompasses three categories: the mathematical, the physical, and the divine. The lowest is the mathematical, as it deals with accidental properties. Ascending from that is the natural and physical, as it deals with substance, but substance that is changeable and intermediate. Moving upward after the physical, there remains only the divine category of philosophy, as it deals with substance that is not changeable or intermediate, but truly and utterly unmoving, supreme, and divine. This is "Being" itself, to which all things are to be referred by analogy; from which are all things, through which are all things, in which are all things, and for the sake of which are all things. To Him be honor forever. Knowing these things beforehand is the key to this wisdom. Therefore, this title, After the Physics, promises us that third category of philosophy which comes after the physical and natural, but which is now supernatural and divine. Thus, those who call this discipline "Metaphysics" with a compound word mean the same thing, whether they wish to interpret it as "trans-natural," "trans-mundane," "supra-mundane," or something similar. Yet, for the most part, divine matters are shadowed in this work under the coverings of natural things, just like fire in a flint: he who knows how to strike it sees the light, and indeed a wonderful light, which the far different opacity of the flint was veiling. How much more wonderful things, then, will he see to whom God has granted the ability to rise from the opacity of these "traces" In humanist theology, physical things are "traces" or "vestiges" of the divine creator. to the uniquely wonderful and incomprehensible light of truth (which is God Himself)? In truth, the Aristotelian text is for the most part like a floor plan; but the metaphysical intellect is like the architect raising a building whose summit is higher than the heavens. Through this, he sees that Craftsman whose very existence is the ability to do all things by omnipotence, to know all things by supreme wisdom, and to will every good.

¶ But let us return to Bessarion’s interpretation. I have compared this version, dearest Fortunatus, with the Greek, and where it turned into a wandering path, I have recalled it to understanding; so much so that I do not doubt these books can now be read easily even without commentaries. To this I have added Argyropoulos John Argyropoulos (c. 1415–1487), another major Greek scholar in Italy., who tastes more like a paraphraser, whereas Bessarion acts more the part of a faithful interpreter. Those who compare the Latin with the Greek will understand this. Furthermore, this version by Bessarion—so esteemed an author—came into my hands through the kindness and humanity of the most illustrious prince, Giovanni Pico, Count of Mirandola (for who was more noble or more humane than he?). He was truly a man to be admired in every age, as he was like the sun of the learned and the most brilliant ray of wisdom. As far as I know, he alone possessed this metaphysical work. Therefore, let those who will one day read these things consider that this rare and exceptional work was shared with them not so much by me, but by that most noble prince—so that in the theories of the highest things, they may progress by always joining philosophy with piety. For this is the end of philosophy: truly, he who does not know how to join philosophy with piety—that is, to rise from human to divine things, from traces to the original patterns, from darkness to light—is ignorant of the most precious fruit of philosophy. Farewell, be happy, and pursue your purpose of instruction. From the monastery of Saint Germain, September 14th.