QUODLIBETS. — The seven quodlibets, as is evident from the manuscripts that remain, are literary versions of those solemn disputations that were inaugurated as early as the 13th century by the Faculty of Theology at Paris, and later imitated by the Faculties of Arts, Law, and Medicine.
Alongside the ordinary disputations, dialectical exercises attended by bachelors and students under the direction of the master within the school, there developed in the Faculty of Theology at Paris around 1230 a more solemn exercise, under the master’s own responsibility, which spread throughout the 13th and the following century: the quodlibetal disputation, so called because it dealt *de quolibet*, *a quolibet*, or *ad voluntatem cuiuslibet*.
*Ad quolibet*: the initiative in proposing the question—and thus in choosing the topic—was removed from the master and depended on the auditors, neighboring masters, bachelors, or other persons outside the school. Each had the right to propose his own subject, raise objections, and argue against the master. *De quolibet*: any topic pertinent to the subject matter of instruction could be elevated to the honor of discussion: theology, Holy Scripture, moral theology, pastoral care, canon law, sacramental theology, philosophy, cases of conscience, etc. The master could refuse a topic that seemed inappropriate; in such a case, however, those present would express their displeasure. The session was therefore not without difficulty, both because of the number and the variety of questions proposed. On average, 20–25 questions were treated; sometimes the number reached 34–39 (Trivet), 44 (Peter of Trabibus), and even 53 (Peckham).
The master had one or more bachelors at his disposal, who would undergo the first assault, offering an initial response to the objections (statutes in fact stipulated that no bachelor could be admitted to the licentiate unless he had at least once taken part in a *de quolibet*). It was the master, however, after these preliminary dialectical skirmishes, who presented the solutions, treated the question thoroughly, “determined” it, and gave the definitive response to the objections. A few days later, on the first day of the “legibilis” course, the master would return to school for the students alone, reviewing the questions debated in the previous session; he would arrange them in a certain order, classifying the questions as he saw fit, and give them their final form. It was after this second session that the master would compose his text. Sometimes (a typical example is the case of St. Thomas’s Quodlibet XII) only a report of the text survives, made by an auditor. In very rare cases, notes taken during the disputation survive, revealing the improvisation, the disconnectedness, and the development of the solemn debate.
The times reserved for quodlibets were two: at Christmas, during the second and third weeks of Advent; and at Easter, around the fourth week of Lent. On the day of the quodlibetal disputations, all lectures were suspended so that masters and bachelors could take part. For this reason, it was called a *disputatio solemnis* or *disputatio communis*. On the occasion when Roger Marston took part, there were perhaps no fewer than 25 masters of theology present. No regulation obliged the master to undergo this trial. Indeed, some never did; others did so once or twice in the entire course of their teaching career; there were those who exposed themselves more frequently, and there were even some who took the floor at every session. Gerard d’Abbeville, for example, had 20 quodlibets to his credit; Henry of Ghent and Godfrey of Fontaines, 15; John of Naples, 13; St. Thomas Aquinas, 12; Nicholas Trivet, 11; Raymond Rigaud, 9.
The importance of such disputations is considerable for the history of philosophical and theological thought, both for the breadth and value of the documentation they provide and for the chronological precision they offer. The very nature of quodlibetal disputations prevents them from being confined within too narrow a framework; an infinite variety of problems arises within them. It is enough to glance at the subject indices to gain an idea: all burning issues, all current debates, all newly proposed theses—sometimes even contemporary news events—come to light clearly, and the publicity accorded them ensured their singular dissemination. Moreover, they provide, on these topics, the genuine and profound thought of the master defending his own viewpoint; he was not taken unawares, even if the choice of questions was foreign to him (in some cases, indeed, he could resort to cunning by having himself consulted in advance by interested parties on the very questions he wished to address), and he had long studied the problems that might arise. Thus it was possible to obtain first-rate clarifications both on his personal doctrine and on the major currents of thought in the university environment. Furthermore, unlike so many medieval works, these documents can be dated with great precision—often to the year, more often to the month, and sometimes even to the day. In addition to the chronological indications provided by the manuscripts with their colophons, the magisterial career of their author already narrows the field of hypotheses. Above all, the frequent allusions both to contemporary events and to discussions known and dated “elsewhere” or in other equally dated works help to provide greater precision. It is enough for a single one of the 20 or 30 questions contained in a quodlibet to be datable for all to be dated; all, in fact, were proposed and defended in the same session. Thus these disputations become useful elements of information and dating for the history of medieval philosophical and theological thought. The golden age of this type of literature extends from 1250 to 1320; the earlier quodlibets are merely tentative; those that follow display imprecise developments and abound in subtleties. More than 117 names of authors who took part in such disputations are currently known, with a total of 358 quodlibets.
The example set at the University of Paris was followed elsewhere: at Oxford, doubtless on the prompting of John Pecham; at Bologna, Toulouse, Cologne, and in many other places. This academic exercise was soon adopted in the “general studia” of religious orders—Dominicans, Franciscans, Augustinian Hermits, etc.—with appropriate adaptations. Other faculties besides theology also had their solemn disputations; well known is the regulation in the Faculties of Arts or in that of Medicine; less well known, however, is that of the Faculty of Law. To form a judgment on the evolution and degeneration of the quodlibet, one may usefully refer to the quodlibet sustained by John Hus in the Faculty of Arts at Prague in January 1411, edited by Bohumil Ryba (Prague 1948).