diff options
Diffstat (limited to '48002-h/48002-h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | 48002-h/48002-h.html | 4452 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 4452 deletions
diff --git a/48002-h/48002-h.html b/48002-h/48002-h.html deleted file mode 100644 index 2f14763..0000000 --- a/48002-h/48002-h.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4452 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?> -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC '-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN' 'http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd'> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Docutils 0.12: http://docutils.sourceforge.net/" /> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg common docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles common to HTML and EPUB. Put styles -that are specific to HTML and EPUB into their relative stylesheets. - -:Author: Marcello Perathoner (webmaster@gutenberg.org) -:Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - -This stylesheet is based on: - - :Author: David Goodger (goodger@python.org) - :Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - - Default cascading style sheet for the HTML output of Docutils. - -*/ - -/* ADE 1.7.2 chokes on !important and throws all css out. */ - -/* FONTS */ - -.italics { font-style: italic } -.no-italics { font-style: normal } - -.bold { font-weight: bold } -.no-bold { font-weight: normal } - -.small-caps { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.gesperrt { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.antiqua { font-style: italic } /* what else can we do ? */ -.monospaced { font-family: monospace } - -.smaller { font-size: smaller } -.larger { font-size: larger } - -.xx-small { font-size: xx-small } -.x-small { font-size: x-small } -.small { font-size: small } -.medium { font-size: medium } -.large { font-size: large } -.x-large { font-size: x-large } -.xx-large { font-size: xx-large } - -.text-transform-uppercase { text-transform: uppercase } -.text-transform-lowercase { text-transform: lowercase } -.text-transform-none { text-transform: none } - -.red { color: red } -.green { color: green } -.blue { color: blue } -.yellow { color: yellow } -.white { color: white } -.gray { color: gray } -.black { color: black } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.left { text-align: left } -.justify { text-align: justify } -.center { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.centerleft { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.right { text-align: right; text-indent: 0 } - -/* LINE HEIGHT */ - -body { line-height: 1.5 } -p { margin: 0; - text-indent: 2em } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.title, .subtitle { page-break-after: avoid } - -.container, .title, .subtitle, #pg-header - { page-break-inside: avoid } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { text-align: justify } - -p.pfirst, p.noindent { - text-indent: 0 -} - -.boxed { border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -.topic, .note { margin: 5% 0; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -div.section { clear: both } - -div.line-block { margin: 1.5em 0 } /* same leading as p */ -div.line-block.inner { margin: 0 0 0 10% } -div.line { margin-left: 20%; text-indent: -20%; } -.line-block.noindent div.line { margin-left: 0; text-indent: 0; } - -hr.docutils { margin: 1.5em 40%; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; } -div.transition { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.vfill, .vspace { border: 0px solid white } - -.title { margin: 1.5em 0 } -.title.with-subtitle { margin-bottom: 0 } -.subtitle { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -/* header font style */ -/* http://dev.w3.org/csswg/css3-fonts/#propdef-font-size */ - -h1.title { font-size: 200%; } /* for book title only */ -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-1 { font-size: 150%; margin-top: 4.5em; margin-bottom: 2em } -h3.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2.25em; margin-bottom: 1.25em } -h4.title, p.subtitle.level-3 { font-size: 100%; margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; font-weight: bold; } -h5.title, p.subtitle.level-4 { font-size: 89%; margin-top: 1.87em; margin-bottom: 1.69em; font-style: italic; } -h6.title, p.subtitle.level-5 { font-size: 60%; margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2.5em } - -/* title page */ - -h1.title, p.subtitle.level-1, -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { text-align: center } - -#pg-header, -h1.document-title { margin: 10% 0 5% 0 } -p.document-subtitle { margin: 0 0 5% 0 } - -/* PG header and footer */ -#pg-machine-header { } -#pg-produced-by { } - -li.toc-entry { list-style-type: none } -ul.open li, ol.open li { margin-bottom: 1.5em } - -.attribution { margin-top: 1.5em } - -.example-rendered { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted red; padding: 1em; background-color: #ffd } -.literal-block.example-source { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted blue; padding: 1em; background-color: #eef } - -/* DROPCAPS */ - -/* BLOCKQUOTES */ - -blockquote { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -blockquote.epigraph { } - -blockquote.highlights { } - -div.local-contents { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -div.abstract { margin: 3em 10% } -div.image { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.caption { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.legend { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.hidden { display: none } - -.invisible { visibility: hidden; color: white } /* white: mozilla print bug */ - -a.toc-backref { - text-decoration: none ; - color: black } - -dl.docutils dd { - margin-bottom: 0.5em } - -div.figure { margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em } - -img { max-width: 100% } - -div.footer, div.header { - clear: both; - font-size: smaller } - -div.sidebar { - margin: 0 0 0.5em 1em ; - border: medium outset ; - padding: 1em ; - background-color: #ffffee ; - width: 40% ; - float: right ; - clear: right } - -div.sidebar p.rubric { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-size: medium } - -ol.simple, ul.simple { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -ol.toc-list, ul.toc-list { padding-left: 0 } -ol ol.toc-list, ul ul.toc-list { padding-left: 5% } - -ol.arabic { - list-style: decimal } - -ol.loweralpha { - list-style: lower-alpha } - -ol.upperalpha { - list-style: upper-alpha } - -ol.lowerroman { - list-style: lower-roman } - -ol.upperroman { - list-style: upper-roman } - -p.credits { - font-style: italic ; - font-size: smaller } - -p.label { - white-space: nowrap } - -p.rubric { - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger ; - color: maroon ; - text-align: center } - -p.sidebar-title { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger } - -p.sidebar-subtitle { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -p.topic-title, p.admonition-title { - font-weight: bold } - -pre.address { - margin-bottom: 0 ; - margin-top: 0 ; - font: inherit } - -.literal-block, .doctest-block { - margin-left: 2em ; - margin-right: 2em; } - -span.classifier { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-style: oblique } - -span.classifier-delimiter { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -span.interpreted { - font-family: sans-serif } - -span.option { - white-space: nowrap } - -span.pre { - white-space: pre } - -span.problematic { - color: red } - -span.section-subtitle { - /* font-size relative to parent (h1..h6 element) */ - font-size: 100% } - -table { margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; border-spacing: 0 } -table.align-left, table.align-right { margin-top: 0 } - -table.table { border-collapse: collapse; } - -table.table.hrules-table thead { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 0 } -table.table.hrules-table tbody { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows tr { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 0 0 1px } -table.table.hrules-rows tr.last { border-width: 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows td, -table.table.hrules-rows th { padding: 1ex 1em; vertical-align: middle } - -table.table tr { border-width: 0 } -table.table td, -table.table th { padding: 0.5ex 1em } -table.table tr.first td { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last td { padding-bottom: 1ex } -table.table tr.first th { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last th { padding-bottom: 1ex } - - -table.citation { - border-left: solid 1px gray; - margin-left: 1px } - -table.docinfo { - margin: 3em 4em } - -table.docutils { } - -div.footnote-group { margin: 1em 0 } -table.footnote td.label { width: 2em; text-align: right; padding-left: 0 } - -table.docutils td, table.docutils th, -table.docinfo td, table.docinfo th { - padding: 0 0.5em; - vertical-align: top } - -table.docutils th.field-name, table.docinfo th.docinfo-name { - font-weight: bold ; - text-align: left ; - white-space: nowrap ; - padding-left: 0 } - -/* used to remove borders from tables and images */ -.borderless, table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - border: 0 } - -table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - /* Override padding for "table.docutils td" with "!important". - The right padding separates the table cells. */ - padding: 0 0.5em 0 0 } /* FIXME: was !important */ - -h1 tt.docutils, h2 tt.docutils, h3 tt.docutils, -h4 tt.docutils, h5 tt.docutils, h6 tt.docutils { - font-size: 100% } - -ul.auto-toc { - list-style-type: none } -</style> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg HTML docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles specific to HTML. -*/ - -/* FONTS */ - -/* em { font-style: normal } -strong { font-weight: normal } */ - -.small-caps { font-variant: small-caps } -.gesperrt { letter-spacing: 0.1em } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.align-left { clear: left; - float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>ARISTOTLE</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1912" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Aristotle" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="A. E. Taylor" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2015-01-16" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="48002" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Aristotle" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> - -<link rel="schema.DCTERMS" href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" /> -<link rel="schema.MARCREL" href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.title" content="Aristotle" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.source" content="/home/ajhaines/aristotle/aristotle.rst" /> -<meta scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" content="en" /> -<meta scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" content="2015-01-17T03:51:50.526431+00:00" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.publisher" content="Project Gutenberg" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.rights" content="Public Domain in the USA." /> -<link rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48002" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.creator" content="A. E. Taylor" /> -<meta scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" content="2015-01-16" /> -<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="aristotle"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">ARISTOTLE</span></h1> - - - - -<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> -<tr> -<td> -THERE IS AN EXPANDED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WITH LINKED FOOTNOTES AND INDEX WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45851"> -[# 45851 ]</a></b></big> -</td> -</tr> -</table> - - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you -are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws -of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Aristotle -<br /> -<br />Author: A. E. Taylor -<br /> -<br />Release Date: January 16, 2015 [EBook #48002] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ARISTOTLE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 53%" id="figure-11"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Aristotle" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Aristotle</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold xx-large">ARISTOTLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY A. E. TAYLOR, M.A., D.LITT., F.B.A.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK -<br />67 LONG ACRE, W.C., AND EDINBURGH -<br />NEW YORK: DODGE PUBLISHING CO.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I. </span><a class="reference internal" href="#life-and-works">LIFE AND WORKS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>II. </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-classification-of-the-sciences-scientific-method">THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES: SCIENTIFIC METHOD</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>III. </span><a class="reference internal" href="#first-philosophy">FIRST PHILOSOPHY</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>IV. </span><a class="reference internal" href="#physics">PHYSICS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>V. </span><a class="reference internal" href="#practical-philosophy">PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHY</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#bibliography">BIBLIOGRAPHY</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="life-and-works"><span class="bold x-large">ARISTOTLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">LIFE AND WORKS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It has not commonly been the lot of philosophers, as it is of -great poets, that their names should become household words. -We should hardly call an Englishman well read if he had not -heard the name of Sophocles or Molière. An educated man is -expected to know at least who these great writers were, and -to understand an allusion to the </span><em class="italics">Antigone</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">Le Misanthrope</em><span>. -But we call a man well read if his mind is stored with the -verse of poets and the prose of historians, even though he were -ignorant of the name of Descartes or Kant. Yet there are a -few philosophers whose influence on thought and language has -been so extensive that no one who reads can be ignorant of -their names, and that every man who speaks the language -of educated Europeans is constantly using their vocabulary. -Among this few Aristotle holds not the lowest place. We have -all heard of him, as we have all heard of Homer. He has left -his impress so firmly on theology that many of the formulae of the -Churches are unintelligible without acquaintance with his -conception of the universe. If we are interested in the growth of -modern science we shall readily discover for ourselves that some -knowledge of Aristotelianism is necessary for the understanding -of Bacon and Galileo and the other great anti-Aristotelians who -created the "modern scientific" view of Nature. If we turn to -the imaginative literature of the modern languages, Dante is a -sealed book, and many a passage of Chaucer and Shakespeare -and Milton is half unmeaning to us unless we are at home -in the outlines of Aristotle's philosophy. And if we turn to -ordinary language, we find that many of the familiar turns of -modern speech cannot be fully understood without a knowledge -of the doctrines they were first forged to express. An Englishman -who speaks of the "golden mean" or of "liberal education," -or contrasts the "matter" of a work of literature with its -"form," or the "essential" features of a situation or a scheme -of policy with its "accidents," or "theory" with "practice," -is using words which derive their significance from the part -they play in the vocabulary of Aristotle. The unambitious -object of this little book is, then, to help the English reader to -a better understanding of such familiar language and a fuller -comprehension of much that he will find in Dante and -Shakespeare and Bacon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Life of Aristotle.</strong><span>--The main facts of Aristotle's life may be -briefly told. He was born in 385-4 B.C. at Stagirus, a little -city of the Chalcidic peninsula, still called, almost by its -ancient name, Chalcis, and died at the age of sixty-two at -Chalcis in Euboea. Thus he is a contemporary of Demosthenes, -his manhood witnessed the struggle which ended in the -establishment of the Macedonian monarchy as the dominant power -in Hellas, and his later years the campaigns in which his pupil -Alexander the Great overthrew the Persian Empire and carried -Greek civilisation to the banks of the Jumna. In studying -the constitutional theories of Aristotle, it is necessary to bear -these facts in mind. They help to explain certain limitations -of outlook which might otherwise appear strange in so great a -man. It throws a great deal of light on the philosopher's -intense conviction of the natural inferiority of the "barbarian" -intellect and character to remember that he grew up in an -outlying region where the "barbarian" was seen to disadvantage -in the ordinary course of life. Hence the distinction between -Greek and "barbarian" came to mean for him much what the -"colour-line" does to an American brought up in a Southern -State. So, again, when we are struck by his "provincialism," -his apparent satisfaction with the ideal of a small self-contained -city-state with a decently oligarchical government, a good -system of public education, and no "social problems," but -devoid alike of great traditions and far-reaching ambitions, we -must remember that the philosopher himself belonged to just -such a tiny community without a past and without a future. -The Chalcidic cities had been first founded, as the name of the -peninsula implies, as colonies from the town of Chalcis in -Euboea; Corinth had also been prominent in establishing -settlements in the same region. At the height of Athenian -Imperial prosperity in the age of Pericles the district had fallen -politically under Athenian control, but had been detached again -from Athens, in the last years of the Archidamian war, by the -genius of the great Spartan soldier and diplomat Brasidas. -Early in the fourth century the Chalcidic cities had attempted -to form themselves into an independent federation, but the -movement had been put down by Sparta, and the cities had -fallen under the control of the rising Macedonian monarchy, -when Aristotle was a baby. A generation later, a double -intrigue of the cities with Philip of Macedon and Athens failed -of its effect, and the peninsula was finally incorporated with -the Macedonian kingdom. It is also important to note that -the philosopher belonged by birth to a guild, the Asclepiadae, -in which the medical profession was hereditary. His father -Nicomachus was court physician to Amyntas II., the king for -whose benefit the Spartans had put down the Chalcidic league. -This early connection with medicine and with the Macedonian -court explains largely both the predominantly biological cast of -Aristotle's philosophical thought and the intense dislike of -"princes" and courts to which he more than once gives -expression. At the age of eighteen, in 367-6, Aristotle was sent to -Athens for "higher" education in philosophy and science, and -entered the famous Platonic Academy, where he remained as a -member of the scientific group gathered round the master for -twenty years, until Plato's death in 347-6. For the three -years immediately following Aristotle was in Asia Minor with -his friend and fellow-student Hermeias, who had become by -force of sheer capacity monarch of the city of Atarneus in the -Troad, and was maintaining himself with much energy against -the Persian king. Pythias, the niece of Hermeias, became the -philosopher's wife, and it seems that the marriage was happy. -Examination of Aristotle's contributions to marine biology has -shown that his knowledge of the subject is specially good for -the Aeolic coast and the shores of the adjacent islands. This -throws light on his occupations during his residence with -Hermeias, and suggests that Plato had discerned the bent of -his distinguished pupil's mind, and that his special share in -the researches of the Academy had, like that of Speusippus, -Plato's nephew and successor in the headship of the school, been -largely of a biological kind. We also know that, presumably -shortly after Plato's death, Aristotle had been one of the group -of disciples who edited their teacher's unpublished lectures. -In 343 Hermeias was assassinated at the instigation of Persia; -Aristotle honoured his memory by a hymn setting forth the -godlikeness of virtue as illustrated by the life of his friend. -Aristotle now removed to the Macedonian court, where he -received the position of tutor to the Crown Prince, afterwards -Alexander the Great, at this time (343 B.C.) a boy of thirteen. -The association of the great philosopher and the great king as -tutor and pupil has naturally struck the imagination of later -ages; even in Plutarch's </span><em class="italics">Life of Alexander</em><span> we meet already -with the full-blown legend of the influence of Aristotle's -philosophical speculations on Alexander. It is, however, improbable -that Aristotle's influence counted for much in forming the -character of Alexander. Aristotle's dislike of monarchies and -their accessories is written large on many a page of his </span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span> -and </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span>; the small self-contained city-state with no political -ambitions for which he reserves his admiration would have -seemed a mere relic of antiquity to Philip and Alexander. The -only piece of contemporary evidence as to the relations between -the master and the pupil is a sentence in a letter to the young -Alexander from the Athenian publicist Isocrates who maliciously -congratulates the prince on his preference for "rhetoric," -the art of efficient public speech, and his indifference to -"logic-choppers." How little sympathy Aristotle can have had with his -pupil's ambitions is shown by the fact that though his political -theories must have been worked out during the very years in -which Alexander was revolutionising Hellenism by the foundation -of his world-empire, they contain no allusion to so momentous -a change in the social order. For all that Aristotle tells -us, Alexander might never have existed, and the small -city-state might have been the last word of Hellenic political -development. Hence it is probable that the selection of Aristotle, -who had not yet appeared before the world as an independent -thinker, to take part in the education of the Crown Prince was -due less to personal reputation than to the connection of his -family with the court, taken together with his own position as -a pupil of Plato, whose intervention in the public affairs of -Sicily had caused the Academy to be regarded as the special -home of scientific interest in politics and jurisprudence. It -may be true that Alexander found time in the midst of his -conquests to supply his old tutor with zoological specimens; -it is as certain as such a thing can be that the ideals and -characters of the two men were too different to allow of any -intimate influence of either on the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Alexander was suddenly called to the Macedonian -throne by the murder of his father in 336 B.C., Aristotle's -services were no longer needed; he returned to Athens and -gave himself to purely scientific work. Just at this juncture -the presidency of the Academy was vacant by the death of -Speusippus, Aristotle's old associate in biological research. -Possibly Aristotle thought himself injured when the school -passed him over and elected Xenocrates of Chalcedon as its new -president. At any rate, though he appears never to have -wholly severed his connection with the Academy, in 335 he -opened a rival institution in the Lyceum, or gymnasium attached -to the temple of Apollo Lyceus, to which he was followed by -some of the most distinguished members of the Academy. From -the fact that his instruction was given in the </span><em class="italics">peripatos</em><span> or -covered portico of the gymnasium the school has derived its -name of Peripatetic. For the next twelve years he was occupied -in the organisation of the school as an abode for the prosecution -of speculation and research in every department of inquiry, and -in the composition of numerous courses of lectures on scientific -and philosophical questions. The chief difference in general -character between the new school and the Academy is that -while the scientific interests of the Platonists centred in -mathematics, the main contributions of the Lyceum to science lay in -the departments of biology and history.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Towards the end of Alexander's life his attention was -unfavourably directed on his old teacher. A relative of Aristotle -named Callisthenes had attended Alexander in his campaigns as -historiographer, and had provoked disfavour by his censure of -the King's attempts to invest his semi-constitutional position -towards his Hellenic subjects with the pomp of an Oriental -despotism. The historian's independence proved fatal. He -was accused of instigating an assassination plot among -Alexander's pages, and hanged, or, as some said, thrown into a -prison where he died before trial. Alexander is reported to -have held Aristotle responsible for his relative's treason, and to -have meditated revenge. If this is so, he was fortunately -diverted from the commission of a crime by preoccupation with -the invasion of India.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the death of Alexander in 323 a brief but vigorous -anti-Macedonian agitation broke out at Athens. Aristotle, from his -Macedonian connections, naturally fell a victim, in spite of his -want of sympathy with the ideals of Philip and Alexander. -Like Socrates, he was indicted on the capital charge of "impiety," -the pretext being that his poem on the death of Hermeias, -written twenty years before, was a virtual deification of his -friend. This was, however, only a pretext; the real offence -was political, and lay in his connection with the Macedonian -leader Antipater. As condemnation was certain, the philosopher -anticipated it by withdrawing with his disciples to Chalcis, the -mother city of his native Stagirus. Here he died in the -following year, at the age of sixty-two or sixty-three.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The features of Aristotle, familiar to us from busts and -intaglios, are handsome, but indicate refinement and acuteness -rather than originality, an impression in keeping with what we -should expect from a study of his writings. The anecdotes -related of him reveal a kindly, affectionate character, and show -little trace of the self-importance which appears in his work. -His will, which has been preserved, exhibits the same traits in -its references to his happy family life and its solicitous care for -the future of his children and servants. He was twice married, -first to Pythias, and secondly to a certain Herpyllis, by whom -he left a son Nicomachus and a daughter. The "goodness" of -Herpyllis to her husband is specially mentioned in the clauses -of the will which make provision for her, while the warmth of -the writer's feelings for Pythias is shown by the direction that -her remains are to be placed in the same tomb with his own. -The list of servants remembered and the bequests enumerated -show the philosopher to have been in easier circumstances than -Plato.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Works of Aristotle</strong><span>.--The so-called works of Aristotle -present us with a curious problem. When we turn from Plato -to his pupil we seem to have passed into a different -atmosphere. The </span><em class="italics">Discourses of Socrates</em><span> exhibit a prose style -which is perhaps the most marvellous of all literary -achievements. Nowhere else do we meet with quite the same -combination of eloquence, imaginative splendour, incisive logic, and -irresistible wit and humour. The manner of Aristotle is dry -and formal. His language bristles with technicalities, makes -little appeal to the emotions, disdains graces of style, and -frequently defies the simplest rules of composition. Our -surprise is all the greater that we find later writers of antiquity, -such as Cicero, commending Aristotle for his copious and golden -eloquence, a characteristic which is conspicuously wanting in -the Aristotelian writings we possess. The explanation of the -puzzle is, however, simple. Plato and Aristotle were at once -what we should call professors and men of letters; both wrote -works for general circulation, and both delivered courses of -lectures to special students. But while Plato's lectures have -perished, his books have come down to us. Aristotle's books -have almost wholly been lost, but we possess many of his lectures. -The "works" of Aristotle praised by Cicero for their eloquence -were philosophical dialogues, and formed the model for Cicero's -own compositions in this kind. None of them have survived, -though some passages have been preserved in quotations by -later writers. That the "works" are actually the MSS. of a -lecturer posthumously edited by his pupils seems clear from -external as well as from internal evidence. In one instance we -have the advantage of a double recension. Aristotle's </span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span> -or </span><em class="italics">Discourses on Conduct</em><span> have come down to us in two -forms--the so-called </span><em class="italics">Nicomachean Ethics</em><span>, a redaction by the -philosopher's son, Nicomachus, preserving all the characteristics -of an oral course of lectures; and a freer and more readable recast -by a pupil, the mathematician Eudemus, known as the </span><em class="italics">Eudemian -Ethics</em><span>. In recent years we have also recovered from the sands -of Egypt what appears to be our one specimen of a "work" of -Aristotle, intended to be read by the public at large, the essay -on the Constitution of Athens. The style of this essay is easy, -flowing, and popular, and shows that Aristotle could write well -and gracefully when he thought fit.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-classification-of-the-sciences-scientific-method"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES: SCIENTIFIC METHOD</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Philosophy, as understood by Aristotle, may be said to be -the organised whole of disinterested knowledge, that is, -knowledge which we seek for the satisfaction which it carries with -itself, and not as a mere means to utilitarian ends. The impulse -which receives this satisfaction is curiosity or wonder, which -Aristotle regards as innate in man, though it does not get full -play until civilisation has advanced far enough to make secure -provision for the immediate material needs of life. Human -curiosity was naturally directed first to the outstanding -"marvellous works" of the physical world, the planets, the -periodicity of their movements, the return of the seasons, -winds, thunder and lightning, and the like. Hence the earliest -Greek speculation was concerned with problems of astronomy -and meteorology. Then, as reflection developed, men speculated -about geometrical figure, and number, the possibility of -having assured knowledge at all, the character of the common -principles assumed in all branches of study or of the special -principles assumed in some one branch, and thus philosophy -has finally become the disinterested study of every department -of Being or Reality. Since Aristotle, like Hegel, thought that -his own doctrine was, in essentials, the last word of speculation, -the complete expression of the principles by which his -predecessors had been unconsciously guided, he believes himself -in a position to make a final classification of the branches of -science, showing how they are related and how they are -discriminated from one another. This classification we have now -to consider.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Classification of the Sciences</strong><span>.--To begin with, we have to -discriminate Philosophy from two rivals with which it might -be confounded on a superficial view, Dialectic and Sophistry. -Dialectic is the art of reasoning accurately from given premisses, -true or false. This art has its proper uses, and of one of these -we shall have to speak. But in itself it is indifferent to the -truth of its premisses. You may reason dialectically from -premisses which you believe to be false, for the express purpose of -showing the absurd conclusions to which they lead. Or you -may reason from premisses which you assume tentatively to see -what conclusions you are committed to if you adopt them. In -either case your object is not directly to secure truth, but -only to secure consistency. Science or Philosophy aims directly -at </span><em class="italics">truth</em><span>, and hence requires to start with true and certain -premisses. Thus the distinction between Science and Dialectic -is that Science reasons from true premisses, Dialectic only from -"probable" or "plausible" premisses. Sophistry differs from -Science in virtue of its moral character. It is the profession -of making a living by the abuse of reasoning, the trick of -employing logical skill for the apparent demonstration of -scientific or ethical falsehoods. "The sophist is one who -earns a living from an apparent but unreal wisdom." (The -emphasis thus falls on the notion of making an "unreal -wisdom" into a </span><em class="italics">trade</em><span>. The sophist's real concern is to get -his fee.) Science or Philosophy is thus the disinterested -employment of the understanding in the discovery of truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We may now distinguish the different branches of science as -defined. The first and most important division to be made is -that between Speculative or Theoretical Science and Practical -Science. The broad distinction is that which we should now -draw between the Sciences and the Arts (</span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> the industrial -and technical, not the "fine" arts). Speculative or Theoretical -Philosophy differs from Practical Philosophy in its purpose, and, -in consequence, in its subject-matter, and its formal logical -character. The purpose of the former is the disinterested -contemplation of truths which are what they are independently -of our own volition; its end is to </span><em class="italics">know</em><span> and only to </span><em class="italics">know</em><span>. -The object of "practical" Science is to know, but not only to -know but also to turn our knowledge to account in devising -ways of successful interference with the course of events. (The -real importance of the distinction comes out in Aristotle's -treatment of the problems of moral and social science. Since we -require knowledge of the moral and social nature of men not -merely to satisfy an intellectual interest, but as a basis for a -sound system of education and government, Politics, the theory -of government, and Ethics, the theory of goodness of conduct, -which for Aristotle is only a subordinate branch of Politics, -belong to Practical, not to Theoretical Philosophy, a view -which is attended by important consequences.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It follows that there is a corresponding difference in the objects -investigated by the two branches of Philosophy. Speculative or -Theoretical Philosophy is concerned with "that which cannot -possibly be other than it is," truths and relations independent -of human volition for their subsistence, and calling simply for -</span><em class="italics">recognition</em><span> on our part. Practical Philosophy has to do with -relations which human volition can modify, "things which -may be other than they are," the contingent. (Thus </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> -not only politics, but medicine and economics will belong to -Practical Science.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hence again arises a logical difference between the conclusions -of Theoretical and those of Practical Philosophy. Those -of the former are universal truths deducible with logical -necessity from self-evident[#] principles. Those of the latter, -because they relate to what "can be otherwise," are never -rigidly universal; they are </span><em class="italics">general</em><span> rules which hold good "in -the majority of cases," but are liable to occasional exceptions -owing to the contingent character of the facts with which they -deal. It is a proof of a philosopher's lack of grounding in -logic that he looks to the results of a practical science (</span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> to -the detailed precepts of medicine or ethics) for a higher degree -of certainty and validity than the nature of the subject-matter -allows. Thus for Aristotle the distinction between the -necessary and the contingent is real and not merely apparent, and -"probability is the guide" in studies which have to do with -the direction of life.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Self-evident, that is, in a purely logical sense. -When you apprehend -the principles in question, you </span><em class="italics small">see</em><span class="small"> at once -that they are true, and do not -require to have them </span><em class="italics small">proved</em><span class="small">. -It is not meant that any and every man -</span><em class="italics small">does</em><span class="small">, in point of fact, always apprehend the principles, -or that they can -be apprehended without preliminary mental discipline.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We proceed to the question how many subdivisions there -are within "theoretical" Philosophy itself. Plato had held -that there are none. All the sciences are deductions from a -single set of ultimate principles which it is the business of -that supreme science to which Plato had given the name of -Dialectic to establish. This is not Aristotle's view. According -to him, "theoretical" Philosophy falls into a number of -distinct though not co-ordinate branches, each with its own -special subjects of investigation and its own special axiomatic -principles. Of these branches there are three, First Philosophy, -Mathematics, and Physics. First Philosophy--afterwards -to be known to the Middle Ages as Metaphysics[#]--treats, to -use Aristotle's own expression, of "Being </span><em class="italics">quà</em><span> Being." This -means that it is concerned with the universal characteristics -which belong to the system of knowable reality as such, and -the principles of its organisation in their full universality. -First Philosophy alone investigates the character of those -causative factors in the system which are without body or -shape and exempt from all mutability. Since in Aristotle's -system God is the supreme Cause of this kind, First Philosophy -culminates in the knowledge of God, and is hence frequently -called Theology. It thus includes an element which would -to-day be assigned to the theory of knowledge, as well as one -which we should ascribe to metaphysics, since it deals at once -with the ultimate postulates of knowledge and the ultimate -causes of the order of real existence.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The origin of this name seems to be -that Aristotle's lectures on First -Philosophy came to be studied as -a continuation of his course on Physics. -Hence the lectures got the name -</span><em class="italics small">Metaphysica</em><span class="small"> because they came </span><em class="italics small">after</em><span class="small"> -(</span><em class="italics small">meta</em><span class="small">) those on Physics. -Finally the name was transferred (as in the -case of </span><em class="italics small">Ethics</em><span class="small">) from the lectures -to the subject of which they treat.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mathematics is of narrower scope. What it studies is no -longer "real being as such," but only real being in so far as it -exhibits number and geometrical form. Since Aristotle holds -the view that number and figure only exist as determinations -of objects given in perception (though by a convenient fiction -the mathematician treats of them in abstraction from the -perceived objects which they qualify), he marks the difference -between Mathematics and First Philosophy by saying that -"whereas the objects of First Philosophy are separate from -matter and devoid of motion, those of Mathematics, though -incapable of motion, have no separable existence but are -inherent in matter." Physics is concerned with the study of -objects which are both material and capable of motion. Thus -the principle of the distinction is the presence or absence of -initial restrictions of the range of the different branches of -Science. First Philosophy has the widest range, since its -contemplation covers the whole ground of the real and knowable; -Physics the narrowest, because it is confined to a "universe -of discourse" restricted by the double qualification that its -members are all material and capable of displacement. Mathematics -holds an intermediate position, since in it, one of these -qualifications is removed, but the other still remains, for -the geometer's figures are boundaries and limits of sensible -bodies, and the arithmetician's numbers properties of collections -of concrete objects. It follows also that the initial axioms or -postulates of Mathematics form a less simple system than those -of First Philosophy, and those of Physics than those of -Mathematics. Mathematics requires as initial assumptions not only -those which hold good for </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> thought, but certain other special -axioms which are only valid and significant for the realm of -figure and number; Physics requires yet further axioms which -are only applicable to "what is in motion." This is why, -though the three disciplines are treated as distinct, they are -not strictly co-ordinate, and "First Philosophy," though -"first," is only </span><em class="italics">prima inter pares</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We thus get the following diagrammatic scheme of the -classification of sciences:--</span></p> -<pre class="literal-block"> -<span> Science - | - +-----------+------------+ - | | - Theoretical Practical - | - +---+---------+-----------+ - | | | -First Philosophy Mathe- Physics - or matics - Theology</span> -</pre> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Practical Philosophy is not subjected by Aristotle to any -similar subdivision. Later students were accustomed to recognise -a threefold division into Ethics (the theory of individual -conduct), Economics (the theory of the management of the -household), Politics (the theory of the management of the -State). Aristotle himself does not make these distinctions. -His general name for the theory of conduct is Politics, the -doctrine of individual conduct being for him inseparable from -that of the right ordering of society. Though he composed a -separate course of lectures on individual conduct (the </span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span>), -he takes care to open the course by stating that the science of -which it treats is Politics, and offers an apology for dealing -with the education of individual character apart from the more -general doctrine of the organisation of society. No special -recognition is given in Aristotle's own classification to the -Philosophy of Art. Modern students of Aristotle have tried -to fill in the omission by adding artistic creation to -contemplation and practice as a third fundamental form of mental -activity, and thus making a threefold division of Philosophy -into Theoretical, Practical, and Productive. The object of this -is to find a place in the classification for Aristotle's famous -</span><em class="italics">Poetics</em><span> and his work on Rhetoric, the art of effective speech -and writing. But the admission of the third division of -Science has no warrant in the text of Aristotle, nor are the -</span><em class="italics">Rhetoric</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Poetics</em><span>, properly speaking, a contribution to -Philosophy. They are intended as collections of practical rules -for the composition of a pamphlet or a tragedy, not as a critical -examination of the canons of literary taste. This was correctly -seen by the dramatic theorists of the seventeenth century. They -exaggerated the value of Aristotle's directions and entirely -misunderstood the meaning of some of them, but they were right -in their view that the </span><em class="italics">Poetics</em><span> was meant to be a collection -of rules by obeying which the craftsman might make sure -of turning out a successful play. So far as Aristotle has a -Philosophy of Fine Art at all, it forms part of his more general -theory of education and must be looked for in the general -discussion of the aims of education contained in his </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Methods of Science</strong><span>.--No place has been assigned in -the scheme to what we call logic and Aristotle called </span><em class="italics">Analytics</em><span>, -the theory of scientific method, or of proof and the estimation -of evidence. The reason is that since the fundamental character -of proof is the same in all science, Aristotle looks upon -logic as a study of the methods common to all science. At a -later date it became a hotly debated question whether logic -should be regarded in this way as a study of the methods -instrumental to proof in all sciences, or as itself a special -constituent division of philosophy. The Aristotelian view was -concisely indicated by the name which became attached to the -collection of Aristotle's logical works. They were called the -</span><em class="italics">Organon</em><span>, that is, the "instrument," or the body of rules of -method employed by Science. The thought implied is thus -that logic furnishes the </span><em class="italics">tools</em><span> with which every science has to -work in establishing its results. Our space will only permit of -a brief statement as to the points in which the Aristotelian -formal logic appears to be really original, and the main -peculiarities of Aristotle's theory of knowledge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(a) </span><strong class="bold">Formal Logic</strong><span>.--In compass the Aristotelian logic corresponds -roughly with the contents of modern elementary treatises -on the same subject, with the omission of the sections which -deal with the so-called Conditional Syllogism. The inclusion -of arguments of this type in mediæval and modern expositions -of formal logic is principally due to the Stoics, who preferred to -throw their reasoning into these forms and subjected them to -minute scrutiny. In his treatment of the doctrine of Terms, -Aristotle avoids the mistake of treating the isolated name as -though it had significance apart from the enunciations in which -it occurs. He is quite clear on the all-important point that -the unit of thought is the proposition in which something is -affirmed or denied, the one thought-form which can be properly -called "true" or "false." Such an assertion he analyses into -two factors, that about which something is affirmed or denied (the -Subject), and that which is affirmed or denied of it (the Predicate). -Consequently his doctrine of the classification of Terms is -based on a classification of Predicates, or of Propositions -according to the special kind of connection between the Subject and -Predicate which they affirm or deny. Two such classifications, -which cannot be made to fit into one another, meet us in Aristotle's -logical writings, the scheme of the ten "Categories," and -that which was afterwards known in the Middle Ages as the list -of "Predicaments" or "Heads of Predicates," or again as the -"Five Words." The list of "Categories" reveals itself as an -attempt to answer the question in how many different senses the -words "is a" or "are" are employed when we assert that "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is -</span><em class="italics">y</em><span>" or "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is a </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>" or "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s are </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>s." Such a statement may tell us -(1) what </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is, as if I say "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is a lion"; the predicate is then -said to fall under the category of Substance; (2) what </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is -like, as when I say "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is white, or </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is wise,"--the category -of Quality; (3) how much or how many </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is, as when I say -"</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is tall" or "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is five feet long,"--the category of Quantity; -(4) how </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is related to something else, as when I say "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is to -the right of </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>," "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is the father of </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>,"--the category of -Relation. These are the four chief "categories" discussed by -Aristotle. The remainder are (5) Place, (6) Time, (7) and -(8) Condition or State, as when I say "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is sitting down" or -"</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> has his armour on,"--(the only distinction between the two -cases seems to be that (7) denotes a more permanent state of </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> -than (8)); (9) Action or Activity, as when I say "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is cutting," -or generally "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is doing something to </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>"; (10) Passivity, as -when I say "</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is being cut," or more generally, "so-and-so -is being done to </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>." No attempt is made to show that this -list of "figures of predication" is complete, or to point out any -principle which has been followed in its construction. It also -happens that much the same enumeration is incidentally made -in one or two passages of Plato. Hence it is not unlikely -that the list was taken over by Aristotle as one which would be -familiar to pupils who had read their Plato, and therefore -convenient for practical purposes. The fivefold classification -does depend on a principle pointed out by Aristotle which -guarantees its completeness, and is therefore likely to have -been thought out by him for himself, and to be the genuine -Aristotelian scheme. Consider an ordinary universal affirmative -proposition of the form "all </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s are </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>s." Now if this -statement is true it may also be true that "all </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>s are </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s," or -it may not. On the first supposition we have two possible -cases, (1) the predicate may state precisely what the subject -defined </span><em class="italics">is</em><span>; then </span><em class="italics">y</em><span> is the Definition of </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>, as when I say that "men -are mortal animals, capable of discourse." Here it is also true -to say that "mortal animals capable of discourse are men," -and Aristotle regards the predicate "mortal animal capable of -discourse" as expressing the inmost nature of man. (2) The -predicate may not express the inmost nature of the subject, -and yet may belong only to the class denoted by the subject -and to every member of that class. The predicate is then -called a Proprium or property, an exclusive attribute of the -class in question. Thus it was held that "all men are capable -of laughter" and "all beings capable of laughter are men," but -that the capacity for laughter is no part of the inmost nature -or "real essence" of humanity. It is therefore reckoned as a -Proprium.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again in the case where it is true that "all </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s are </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>s," but -not true that all "</span><em class="italics">y</em><span>s are </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s," </span><em class="italics">y</em><span> may be part of the definition -of </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> or it may not. If it is part of the definition of </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> it will -be either (3) a genus or wider class of which </span><em class="italics">x</em><span> forms a -subdivision, as when I say, "All men are animals," or (4) a -difference, that is, one of the distinctive marks by which the </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s -are distinguished from other sub-classes or species of the same -genus, as when I say, "All men are capable of discourse." Or -finally (5) </span><em class="italics">y</em><span> may be no part of the definition of </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>, but a -characteristic which belongs both to the </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s and some things -other than </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>s. The predicate is then called an Accident. We -have now exhausted all the possible cases, and may say that -the predicate of a universal affirmative proposition is always -either a definition, a proprium, a genus, a difference, or an -accident. This classification reached the Middle Ages not in the -precise form in which it is given by Aristotle, but with -modifications mainly due to the Neo-Platonic philosopher Porphyry. -In its modified form it is regarded as a classification of terms -generally. Definition disappears from the list, as the definition -is regarded as a complex made up of the genus, or next highest -class to which the class to be defined belongs, and the differences -which mark off this particular species or sub-class. The species -itself which figures as the subject-term in a definition is added, -and thus the "Five Words" of mediæval logic are enumerated -as genus, species, difference, proprium, accident.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The one point of philosophical interest about this doctrine -appears alike in the scheme of the "Categories" in the presence -of a category of "substance," and in the list of "Predicaments" -in the sharp distinction drawn between "definition" and -"proprium." From a logical point of view it does not appear -why </span><em class="italics">any</em><span> proprium, </span><em class="italics">any</em><span> character belonging to all the members -of a class and to them alone, should not be taken as defining -the class. Why should it be assumed that there is only </span><em class="italics">one</em><span> -predicate, viz. </span><em class="italics">man</em><span>, which precisely answers the question, -"What is Socrates?" Why should it not be equally correct -to answer, "a Greek," or "a philosopher"? The explanation -is that Aristotle takes it for granted that not all the distinctions -we can make between "kinds" of things are arbitrary and -subjective. Nature herself has made certain hard and fast -divisions between kinds which it is the business of our thought -to recognise and follow. Thus according to Aristotle there is -a real gulf, a genuine difference in kind, between the horse and -the ass, and this is illustrated by the fact that the mule, the -offspring of a horse and an ass, is not capable of reproduction. -It is thus a sort of imperfect being, a kind of "monster" -existing </span><em class="italics">contra naturam</em><span>. Such differences as we find when -we compare </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> Egyptians with Greeks do not amount to a -difference in "kind." To say that Socrates is a man tells me -what Socrates is, because the statement places Socrates in the -real kind to which he actually belongs; to say that he is wise, -or old, or a philosopher merely tells me some of his attributes. -It follows from this belief in "real" or "natural" kinds that -the problem of definition acquires an enormous importance for -science. We, who are accustomed to regard the whole business -of classification as a matter of making a grouping of our -materials such as is most pertinent to the special question we -have in hand, tend to look upon any predicate which belongs -universally and exclusively to the members of a group, as a -sufficient basis for a possible definition of the group. Hence -we are prone to take the "nominalist" view of definition, </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> -to look upon a definition as no more than a declaration of the -sense which we intend henceforward to put on a word or other -symbol. And consequently we readily admit that there may -be as many definitions of a class as it has different propria. -But in a philosophy like that of Aristotle, in which it is held -that a true classification must not only be formally satisfactory, -but must also conform to the actual lines of cleavage which -Nature has established between kind and kind, the task of -classificatory science becomes much more difficult. Science -is called on to supply not merely a definition but </span><em class="italics">the</em><span> definition -of the classes it considers, </span><em class="italics">the</em><span> definition which faithfully reflects -the "lines of cleavage" in Nature. This is why the Aristotelian -view is that a true definition should always be </span><em class="italics">per genus et -differentias</em><span>. It should "place" a given class by mentioning -the wider class next above it in the objective hierarchy, and -then enumerating the most deep-seated distinctions by which -Nature herself marks off this class from others belonging to -the same wider class. Modern evolutionary thought may -possibly bring us back to this Aristotelian standpoint. Modern -evolutionary science differs from Aristotelianism on one point -of the first importance. It regards the difference between -kinds, not as a primary fact of Nature, but as produced by a -long process of accumulation of slight differences. But a -world in which the process has progressed far enough will -exhibit much the same character as the Nature of Aristotle. -As the intermediate links between "species" drop out because -they are less thoroughly adapted to maintain themselves than -the extremes between which they form links, the world produced -approximates more and more to a system of species between -which there are unbridgeable chasms; evolution tends more and -more to the final establishment of "real kinds," marked by -the fact that there is no permanent possibility of cross-breeding -between them. This makes it once more possible to -distinguish between a "nominal" definition and a "real" -definition. From an evolutionary point of view, a "real" definition -would be one which specifies not merely enough characters -to mark off the group defined from others, but selects also -for the purpose those characters which indicate the line of -historical development by which the group has successively -separated itself from other groups descended from the same -ancestors. We shall learn yet more of the significance of this -conception of a "real kind" as we go on to make acquaintance -with the outlines of First Philosophy. Over the rest of the -formal logic of Aristotle we must be content to pass more -rapidly. In connection with the doctrine of Propositions, -Aristotle lays down the familiar distinction between the four -types of proposition according to their quantity (as universal -or particular) and quality (as affirmative or negative), and -treats of their contrary and contradictory opposition in a way -which still forms the basis of the handling of the subject in -elementary works on formal logic. He also considers at -great length a subject nowadays commonly excluded from the -elementary books, the modal distinction between the Problematic -proposition (</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> may be </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>), the Assertory (</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> is </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>), and the -Necessary (</span><em class="italics">x</em><span> must be </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>), and the way in which all these forms -may be contradicted. For him, modality is a formal distinction -like quantity or quality, because he believes that -contingency and necessity are not merely relative to the state -of our knowledge, but represent real and objective features of -the order of Nature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In connection with the doctrine of Inference, it is worth -while to give his definition of Syllogism or Inference (literally -"computation") in his own words. "Syllogism is a discourse -wherein certain things (viz. the premisses) being admitted, -something else, different from what has been admitted, follows -of necessity because the admissions are what they are." The -last clause shows that Aristotle is aware that the all-important -thing in an inference is not that the conclusion should be novel -but that it should be proved. We may have known the -conclusion as a fact before; what the inference does for us is to -connect it with the rest of our knowledge, and thus to show -</span><em class="italics">why</em><span> it is true. He also formulates the axiom upon which -syllogistic inference rests, that "if A is predicated universally -of B and B of C, A is necessarily predicated universally of -C." Stated in the language of class-inclusion, and adapted to -include the case where B is denied of C this becomes the formula, -"whatever is asserted universally, whether positively or -negatively, of a class B is asserted in like manner of any class C -which is wholly contained in B," the axiom </span><em class="italics">de omni et nullo</em><span> -of mediæval logic. The syllogism of the "first figure," to -which this principle immediately applies, is accordingly -regarded by Aristotle as the natural and perfect form of -inference. Syllogisms of the second and third figures can only -be shown to fall under the dictum by a process of "reduction" -or transformation into corresponding arguments in the first -"figure," and are therefore called "imperfect" or "incomplete," -because they do not exhibit the conclusive force of the reasoning -with equal clearness, and also because no universal affirmative -conclusion can be proved in them, and the aim of science -is always to establish such affirmatives. The list of "moods" -of the three figures, and the doctrine of the methods by which -each mood of the imperfect figures can be replaced by an -equivalent mood of the first is worked out substantially as in our -current text-books. The so-called "fourth" figure is not -recognised, its moods being regarded merely as unnatural and -distorted statements of those of the first figure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Induction</strong><span>.--Of the use of "induction" in Aristotle's -philosophy we shall speak under the head of "Theory of -Knowledge." Formally it is called "the way of proceeding from -particular facts to universals," and Aristotle insists that the -conclusion is only proved if </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> the particulars have been -examined. Thus he gives as an example the following argument, -"</span><em class="italics">x</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">z</em><span> are long-lived species of animals; </span><em class="italics">x</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">y</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">z</em><span> are the only -species which have no gall; </span><em class="italics">ergo</em><span> all animals which have no -gall are long-lived." This is the "induction by simple -enumeration" denounced by Francis Bacon on the ground that it -may always be discredited by the production of a single -"contrary instance," </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> a single instance of an animal which has -no gall and yet is not long-lived. Aristotle is quite aware -that his "induction" does not establish its conclusion unless -all the cases have been included in the examination. In fact, -as his own example shows, an induction which gives certainty -does not start with "particular facts" at all. It is a method -of arguing that what has been proved true of each sub-class -of a wider class will be true of the wider class as a whole. -The premisses are strictly universal throughout. In general, -Aristotle does not regard "induction" as </span><em class="italics">proof</em><span> at all. -Historically "induction" is held by Aristotle to have been first -made prominent in philosophy by Socrates, who constantly -employed the method in his attempts to establish universal -results in moral science. Thus he gives, as a characteristic -argument for the famous Socratic doctrine that knowledge -is the one thing needful, the "induction," "he who understands -the theory of navigation is the best navigator, he who -understands the theory of chariot-driving the best driver; from -these examples we see that universally he who understands -the theory of a thing is the best practitioner," where it is -evident that </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> the relevant cases have </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> been examined, -and consequently that the reasoning does not amount to proof. -Mill's so-called reasoning from particulars to particulars finds -a place in Aristotle's theory under the name of "arguing from -an example." He gives as an illustration, "A war between -Athens and Thebes will be a bad thing, for we see that the -war between Thebes and Phocis was so." He is careful to -point out that the whole force of the argument depends on -the </span><em class="italics">implied</em><span> assumption of a universal proposition which covers -both cases, such as "wars between </span><em class="italics">neighbours</em><span> are bad things." -Hence he calls such appeals to example "rhetorical" reasoning, -because the politician is accustomed to leave his hearers to -supply the relevant universal consideration for themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Theory of Knowledge</strong><span>.--Here, as everywhere in Aristotle's -philosophy, we are confronted by an initial and insuperable -difficulty. Aristotle is always anxious to insist on the -difference between his own doctrines and those of Plato, and his -bias in this direction regularly leads him to speak as though -he held a thorough-going naturalistic and empirical theory with -no "transcendental moonshine" about it. Yet his final -conclusions on all points of importance are hardly distinguishable -from those of Plato except by the fact that, as they are so -much at variance with the naturalistic side of his philosophy, -they have the appearance of being sudden lapses into an -alogical mysticism. We shall find the presence of this "fault" -more pronouncedly in his metaphysics, psychology, and ethics -than in his theory of knowledge, but it is not absent from any -part of his philosophy. He is everywhere a Platonist </span><em class="italics">malgré -lui</em><span>, and it is just the Platonic element in his thought to which -it owes its hold over men's minds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Plato's doctrine on the subject may be stated with enough -accuracy for our purpose as follows. There is a radical -distinction between sense-perception and scientific knowledge. -A scientific truth is exact and definite, it is also true once and -for all, and never becomes truer or falser with the lapse of -time. This is the character of the propositions of the science -which Plato regarded as the type of what true science ought to -be, pure mathematics. It is very different with the judgments -which we try to base on our sense-perceptions of the visible -and tangible world. The colours, tastes, shapes of sensible -things seem different to different percipients, and moreover they -are constantly changing in incalculable ways. We can never be -certain that two lines which seem to our senses to be equal -are really so; it may be that the inequality is merely too -slight to be perceptible to our senses. No figure which we -can draw and see actually has the exact properties ascribed by -the mathematician to a circle or a square. Hence Plato -concludes that if the word science be taken in its fullest sense, -there can be no science about the world which our senses -reveal. We can have only an approximate knowledge, a -knowledge which is after all, at best, probable opinion. The -objects of which the mathematician has certain, exact, and -final knowledge cannot be anything which the senses reveal. -They are objects of </span><em class="italics">thought</em><span>, and the function of visible models -and diagrams in mathematics is not to present </span><em class="italics">examples</em><span> of -them to us, but only to show us imperfect </span><em class="italics">approximations</em><span> to -them and so to "remind" the soul of objects and relations -between them which she has never cognised with the bodily -senses. Thus mathematical straightness is never actually -beheld, but when we see lines of less and more approximate -straightness we are "put in mind" of that absolute straightness -to which sense-perception only approximates. So in the -moral sciences, the various "virtues" are not presented in -their perfection by the course of daily life. We do not meet -with men who are perfectly brave or just, but the experience -that one man is braver or juster than another "calls into our -mind" the thought of the absolute standard of courage or -justice implied in the conviction that one man comes nearer -to it than another, and it is these absolute standards which -are the real objects of our attention when we try to define the -terms by which we describe the moral life. This is the -"epistemological" side of the famous doctrine of the "Ideas." The -main points are two, (1) that strict science deals throughout -with objects and relations between objects which are of a -purely intellectual or conceptual order, no sense-data entering -into their constitution; (2) since the objects of science are of -this character, it follows that the "Idea" or "concept" or -"universal" is not arrived at by any process of "abstracting" -from our experience of sensible things the features common to -them all. As the particular fact never actually exhibits the -"universal" except approximately, the "universal" cannot be -simply disentangled from particulars by abstraction. As Plato -puts it, it is "apart from" particulars, or, as we might reword -his thought, the pure concepts of science represent "upper -limits" to which the comparative series which we can form out -of sensible data continually approximate but do not reach them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his theory of knowledge Aristotle begins by brushing aside -the Platonic view. Science requires no such "Ideas," -transcending sense-experience, as Plato had spoken of; they are, in -fact, no more than "poetic metaphors." What is required for -science is not that there should be a "one over and above the -many" (that is, such pure concepts, unrealised in the world of -actual perception, as Plato had spoken of), but only that it -should be possible to predicate one term universally of many -others. This, by itself, means that the "universal" is looked -on as a mere residue of the characteristics found in each member -of a group, got by abstraction, </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> by leaving out of view the -characteristics which are peculiar to some of the group and -retaining only those which are common to all. If Aristotle had -held consistently to this point of view, his theory of knowledge -would have been a purely empirical one. He would have had -to say that, since all the objects of knowledge are particular -facts given in sense-perception, the universal laws of science are -a mere convenient way of describing the observed uniformities -in the behaviour of sensible things. But, since it is obvious -that in pure mathematics we are not concerned with the actual -relations between sensible data or the actual ways in which -they behave, but with so-called "pure cases" or ideals to which -the perceived world only approximately conforms, he would also -have had to say that the propositions of mathematics are not -strictly true. In modern times consistent empiricists have said -this, but it is not a position possible to one who had passed -twenty years in association with the mathematicians of the -Academy, and Aristotle's theory only begins in naturalism to -end in Platonism. We may condense its most striking positions -into the following statement. By science we mean </span><em class="italics">proved</em><span> -knowledge. And proved knowledge is always "mediated"; -it is the knowledge of </span><em class="italics">conclusions</em><span> from premisses. A truth -that is scientifically known does not stand alone. The "proof" -is simply the pointing out of the connection between the truth -we call the conclusion, and other truths which we call the -premisses of our demonstration. Science points out the </span><em class="italics">reason -why</em><span> of things, and this is what is meant by the Aristotelian -principle that to have science is to know things through their -</span><em class="italics">causes</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">reasons why</em><span>. In an ordered digest of scientific truths, -the proper arrangement is to begin with the simplest and most -widely extended principles and to reason down, through successive -inferences, to the most complex propositions, the </span><em class="italics">reason why</em><span> -of which can only be exhibited by long chains of deductions. This -is the order of logical dependence, and is described by Aristotle -as reasoning </span><em class="italics">from</em><span> what is "more knowable in its own nature,"[#] -the simple, to what is usually "more familiar to </span><em class="italics">us</em><span>," because -less removed from the infinite wealth of sense-perception, the -complex. In </span><em class="italics">discovery</em><span> we have usually to reverse the -process and argue from "the familiar to us," highly complex -facts, to "the more knowable in its own nature," the simpler -principles implied in the facts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] This simple expression acquires a -mysterious appearance in mediæval -philosophy from the standing mistranslation </span><em class="italics small">notiora -naturæ</em><span class="small">, "better known to nature."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It follows that Aristotle, after all, admits the disparateness -of sense-perception and scientific knowledge. Sense-perception -of itself never gives us scientific truth, because it can only assure -us that a fact is so; it cannot </span><em class="italics">explain</em><span> the fact by showing its -connection with the rest of the system of facts, "it does not -give the </span><em class="italics">reason</em><span> for the fact." Knowledge of perception is -always "immediate," and for that very reason is never scientific. -If we stood on the moon and saw the earth, interposing between -us and the sun, we should still not have scientific knowledge -about the eclipse, because "we should still have to ask for the -</span><em class="italics">reason why</em><span>." (In fact, we should not know the reason </span><em class="italics">why</em><span> -without a theory of light including the proposition that -light-waves are propagated in straight lines and several others.) -Similarly Aristotle insists that Induction does not yield scientific -truth. "He who makes an induction points out something, -but does not demonstrate anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For instance, if we know that </span><em class="italics">each</em><span> species of animal which -is without a gall is long-lived, we may make the induction that -</span><em class="italics">all</em><span> animals without a gall are long-lived, but in doing so we -have got no nearer to seeing </span><em class="italics">why</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">how</em><span> the absence of a gall -makes for longevity. The question which we may raise in -science may all be reduced to four heads, (1) Does this thing -exist? (2) Does this event occur? (3) If the thing exists, precisely -what is it? and (4) If the event occurs, </span><em class="italics">why</em><span> does it occur? and -science has not completed its task unless it can advance from -the solution of the first two questions to that of the latter two. -Science is no mere catalogue of things and events, it consists -of inquiries into the "real essences" and characteristics of things -and the laws of connection between events.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Looking at scientific reasoning, then, from the point of view -of its formal character, we may say that all science consists in -the search for "middle terms" of syllogisms, by which to -connect the truth which appears as a conclusion with the less -complex truths which appear as the premisses from which it is -drawn. When we ask, "does such a thing exist?" or "does -such an event happen?" we are asking, "is there a middle term -which can connect the thing or event in question with the rest -of known reality?" Since it is a rule of the syllogism that the -middle term must be taken universally, at least once in the -premisses, the search for middle terms may also be described as -the search for universals, and we may speak of science as -knowledge of the universal interconnections between facts and -events.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A science, then, may be analysed into three constituents. -These are: (1) a determinate class of objects which form the -subject-matter of its inquiries. In an orderly exhibition of -the contents of the science, these appear, as in Euclid, as the -initial data about which the science reasons; (2) a number of -principles, postulates, and axioms, from which our demonstrations -must start. Some of these will be principles employed -in all scientific reasoning. Others will be specific to the -subject-matter with which a particular science is concerned; -(3) certain characteristics of the objects under study which can -be shown by means of our axioms and postulates to follow from -our initial definitions, the </span><em class="italics">accidentia per se</em><span> of the objects -defined. It is these last which are expressed by the -conclusions of scientific demonstration. We are said to know -scientifically that B is true of A when we show that this -follows, in virtue of the principles of some science, from the -initial definition of A. Thus if we convinced ourselves that -the sum of the angles of a plane triangle is equal to two right -angles by measurement, we could not be said to have scientific -knowledge of the proposition. But if we show that the same -proposition follows from the definition of a plane triangle by -repeated applications of admitted axioms or postulates of geometry, -our knowledge is genuinely scientific. We now know that it -is so, and we see </span><em class="italics">why</em><span> it is so; we see the connection of this -truth with the simple initial truths of geometry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This leads us to the consideration of the most characteristic -point of Aristotle's whole theory. Science is demonstrated -knowledge, that is, it is the knowledge that certain truths -follow from still simpler truths. Hence the simplest of all the -truths of any science cannot themselves be capable of being -known by inference. You cannot infer that the axioms of -geometry are true because its conclusions are true, since the -truth of the conclusions is itself a consequence of the truth of -the axioms. Nor yet must you ask for demonstration of the -axioms as consequences of still simpler premisses, because if all -truths can be proved, they ought to be proved, and you would -therefore require an infinity of successive demonstrations to -prove anything whatever. But under such conditions all -knowledge of demonstrated truth would be impossible. The first -principles of any science must therefore be indemonstrable. -They must be known, as facts of sense-perception are known, -immediately and not mediately. How then do we come by our -knowledge of them? Aristotle's answer to this question appears -at first sight curiously contradictory. He seems to say that -these simplest truths are apprehended intuitively, or on -inspection, as self-evident by Intelligence or Mind. On the other -hand, he also says that they are known </span><em class="italics">to us</em><span> as a result of -induction from sense-experience. Thus he </span><em class="italics">seems</em><span> to be either a -Platonist or an empiricist, according as you choose to remember -one set of his utterances or another, and this apparent -inconsistency has led to his authority being claimed in their favour -by thinkers of the most widely different types. But more -careful study will show that the seeming confusion is due to -the fact that he tries to combine in one statement his answers -to two quite different questions, (1) how we come to reflect -on the axioms, (2) what evidence there is for their truth. To -the first question he replies, "by induction from experience," -and so far he might seem to be a precursor of John Stuart -Mill. Successive repetitions of the same sense-perceptions give -rise to a single experience, and it is by reflection on experience -that we become aware of the most ultimate simple and universal -principles. We might illustrate his point by considering -how the thought that two and two are four may be brought -before a child's mind. We might first take two apples, and -two other apples and set the child to count them. By repeating -the process with different apples we may teach the child -to dissociate the result of the counting from the particular -apples employed, and to advance to the thought, "any two -apples and any two other apples make four apples." Then we -might substitute pears or cherries for the apples, so as to -suggest the thought, "two fruits and two fruits make four -fruits." And by similar methods we should in the end evoke -the thought, "any two objects whatever and any other two -objects whatever make four objects." This exactly illustrates -Aristotle's conception of the function of induction, or comparison -of instances, in fixing attention on a universal principle of -which one had not been conscious before the comparison was -made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now comes in the point where Aristotle differs wholly from -all empiricists, later and earlier. Mill regards the instances -produced in the induction as having a double function; they -not merely fix the attention on the principle, they also are the -evidence of its truth. This gives rise to the greatest difficulty -in his whole logical theory. Induction by imperfect enumeration -is pronounced to be (as it clearly is) fallacious, yet the -principle of the uniformity of Nature which Mill regards as the -ultimate premiss of all science, is itself supposed to be proved -by this radically fallacious method. Aristotle avoids a similar -inconsistency by holding that the sole function of the induction -is to fix our attention on a principle which it does not prove. -He holds that ultimate principles neither permit of nor require -proof. When the induction has done its work in calling -attention to the principle, you have to see for yourself that the -principle is true. You see that it is true by immediate -inspection just as in sense-perception you have to see that the -colour before your eyes is red or blue. This is why Aristotle -holds that the knowledge of the principles of science is not -itself science (demonstrated knowledge), but what he calls -intelligence, and we may call intellectual intuition. Thus his -doctrine is sharply distinguished not only from empiricism -(the doctrine that universal principles are proved by particular -facts), but also from all theories of the Hegelian type which -regard the principles and the facts as somehow reciprocally -proving each other, and from the doctrine of some eminent -modern logicians who hold that "self-evidence" is not required -in the ultimate principles of science, as we are only concerned -in logic with the question what consequences follow from our -initial assumptions, and not with the truth or falsehood of the -assumptions themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The result is that Aristotle does little more than repeat the -Platonic view of the nature of science. Science consists of -deductions from universal principles which sensible experience -"suggests," but into which, as they are apprehended by a -purely intellectual inspection, no sense-data enter as constituents. -The apparent rejection of "transcendental moonshine" has, -after all, led to nothing. The only difference between Plato -and his scholar lies in the clearness of intellectual vision which -Plato shows when he expressly maintains in plain words -that the universals of exact science are not "in" our -sense-perceptions and therefore to be extracted from them by a -process of abstraction, but are "apart from" or "over" them, and -form an ideal system of interconnected concepts which the -experiences of sense merely "imitate" or make approximation to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One more point remains to be considered to complete our -outline of the Aristotelian theory of knowledge. The sciences -have "principles" which are discerned to be true by immediate -inspection. But what if one man professes to see the -self-evident truth of such an alleged principle, while another is -doubtful of its truth, or even denies it? There can be no -question of silencing the objector by a demonstration, since no -genuine simple principle admits of demonstration. All that -can be done, </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> if a man doubts whether things equal to the -same thing are equal to one another, or whether the law of -contradiction is true, is to examine the consequences of a denial -of the axiom and to show that they include some which -are false, or which your antagonist at least considers false. In -this way, by showing the falsity of consequences which follow -from the denial of a given "principle," you indirectly establish -its truth. Now reasoning of this kind differs from "science" -precisely in the point that you take as your major premiss, not -what you regard as true, but the opposite thesis of your -antagonist, which you regard as false. Your object is not to prove -a true conclusion but to show your opponent that </span><em class="italics">his</em><span> premisses -lead to false conclusions. This is "dialectical" reasoning in -Aristotle's sense of the word, </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> reasoning not from your own -but from some one else's premisses. Hence the chief philosophical -importance which Aristotle ascribes to "dialectic" is -that it provides a method of defending the undemonstrable -axioms against objections. Dialectic of this kind became highly -important in the mediæval Aristotelianism of the schoolmen, -with whom it became a regular method, as may be seen </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> in -the </span><em class="italics">Summa</em><span> of St. Thomas, to begin their consideration of a -doctrine by a preliminary rehearsal of all the arguments they -could find or devise against the conclusion they meant to adopt. -Thus the first division of any article in the </span><em class="italics">Summa Theologiæ</em><span> -of Thomas is regularly constituted by arguments based on the -premisses of actual or possible antagonists, and is strictly -dialectical. (To be quite accurate Aristotle should, of course, -have observed that this dialectical method of defending a -principle becomes useless in the case of a logical axiom which is -presupposed by all deduction. For this reason Aristotle falls -into fallacy when he tries to defend the law of contradiction by -dialectic. It is true that if the law be denied, then any and -every predicate may be indifferently ascribed to any subject. -But until the law of contradiction has been admitted, you -have no right to regard it as absurd to ascribe all predicates -indiscriminately to all subjects. Thus, it is only assumed laws -which are </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> ultimate laws of logic that admit of dialectical -justification. If a truth is so ultimate that it has either to be -recognised by direct inspection or not at all, there can be no -arguing at all with one who cannot or will not see it.)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="first-philosophy"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">FIRST PHILOSOPHY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>First Philosophy is defined by Aristotle as a "science which -considers What Is simply in its character of Being, and the -properties which it has as such." That there is, or ought to -be, such a science is urged on the ground that every "special" -science deals only with some restricted department of what is, -and thus considers its subject-matter not universally in its -character of being, or being real, but as determined by some more -special condition. Thus, First Philosophy, the science which -attempts to discover the most ultimate reasons of, or grounds -for, the character of things in general cannot be identified with -any of the "departmental" sciences. The same consideration -explains why it is "First Philosophy" which has to disentangle -the "principles" of the various sciences, and defend them -by dialectic against those who impugn them. It is no part -of the duty of a geometer or a physicist to deal with -objections to such universal principles of reasoning as the law of -contradiction. They may safely assume such principles; if -they are attacked, it is not by specifically geometrical or physical -considerations that they can be defended. Even the "principles -of the special sciences" have not to be examined and defended -by the special sciences. They are the starting-points of the -sciences which employ them; these sciences are therefore justified -in requiring that they shall be admitted as a condition of -geometrical, or physical, or biological demonstrations. If they are -called in question, the defence of them is the business of logic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First Philosophy, then, is the study of "What Is simply as -such," the universal principles of structure without which there -could be no ordered system of knowable objects. But the word -"is" has more than one sense. There are as many modes of -being as there are types of predication. "Substances," men, -horses, and the like, have their own specific mode of being--they -are things; qualities, such as green or sweet, have a different -mode of being--they are not things, but "affections" or -"attributes" of things. Actions, again, such as building, killing, -are neither things nor yet "affections" of things; their mode -of being is that they are processes which produce or destroy -things. First Philosophy is concerned with the general character -of all these modes of being, but it is specially concerned with -that mode of being which belongs to </span><em class="italics">substances</em><span>. For this is -the most primary of all modes of being. We had to introduce -a reference to it in our attempt to say what the mode of being -of qualities and actions is, and it would have been the same -had our illustrations been drawn from any other "categories." Hence -the central and special problem of First Philosophy is -to analyse the notion of substance and to show the causes of -the existence of substances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next, we have to note that the word "substance" itself -has two senses. When we spoke of substance as one of the -categories we were using it in a secondary sense. We meant -by substances "horse," "man," and the rest of the "real -kinds" which we find in Nature, and try to reproduce in a -scientific classification. In this sense of the word "substances" -are a special class of </span><em class="italics">predicates</em><span>, as when we affirm of Plato -that he is a man, or of Bucephalus that he is a horse. But in -the primary sense a substance means an absolutely individual -thing, "</span><em class="italics">this</em><span> man," or "</span><em class="italics">this</em><span> horse." We may therefore define -primary substances from the logician's point of view by saying -that they can be only subjects of predication, never predicates. -Or again, it is peculiar to substances, that while remaining -numerically one a substance admits of incompatible determinations, -as Socrates, remaining one and the same Socrates, is -successively young and old. This is not true of "qualities," -"actions," and the rest. The same colour cannot be first white -and then black; the same act cannot be first bad and then -good. Thus we may say that individual substances are the -fixed and permanent factors in the world of mutability, the -invariants of existence. Processes go on in them, they run -the gamut of changes from birth to decay, processes take place -</span><em class="italics">among</em><span> them, they act on and are acted on by one another, they -fluctuate in their qualities and their magnitude, but so long -as a substance exists it remains numerically one and the same -throughout all these changes. Their existence is the first -and most fundamental condition of the existence of the universe, -since they are the bearers of all qualities, the terms of all -relations, and the agents and patients in all interaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The point to note is that Aristotle begins his investigation -into the structure of What Is and the causes by which it is -produced by starting from the existence of individual things -belonging to the physical order and perceived by the senses. -About any such thing we may ask two questions, (1) into -what constituent factors can it be logically analysed? (2) and -how has it come to exhibit the character which our analysis -shows it to have? The answer to these questions will appear -from a consideration of two standing antitheses which run -through Aristotle's philosophy, the contrast between Matter and -Form, and that between Potential and Actual, followed by a -recapitulation of his doctrine of the Four Causes, or four senses -of the word Cause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Matter and Form</strong><span>.--Consider any completely developed -individual thing, whether it is the product of human -manufacture, as a copper bowl, or of natural reproduction, as -an oak-tree or a horse. We shall see at once that the bowl -is like other articles made of the same metal, candlesticks, -coal-vases, in being made of the same stuff, and unlike them -in having the special shape or structure which renders it fit -for being used as a bowl and not for holding a candle or -containing coals. So a botanist or a chemist will tell you that -the constituent tissues of an oak or horse, or the chemical -elements out of which these tissues are built up are of the -same kind as those of an ash or an ox, but the oak differs -from the ash or the horse from the ox in characteristic structure. -We see thus that in any individual thing we can distinguish -two components, the stuff of which it consists--which may be -identical in kind with the stuff of which things of a very -different kind consist--and the structural law of formation -or arrangement which is peculiar to the "special" kind of -thing under consideration. In the actual individual thing -these two are inseparably united; they do not exist side -by side, as chemists say the atoms of hydrogen and oxygen -do in a drop of water; the law of organisation or structure -is manifested in and through the copper, or the various tissues -of the living body. Aristotle expresses this by saying that -you can distinguish two aspects in an individual, its Matter, -(</span><em class="italics">hyle, materia</em><span>) and its Form (</span><em class="italics">eidos, forma</em><span>). The individual -is the matter as organised in accord with a determinate -principle of structure, the form. Of these terms, the former, -</span><em class="italics">hyle</em><span> (</span><em class="italics">materia</em><span>, matter) means literally timber, and more -specifically ship's timbers, and his selection of it to mean -what is most exactly rendered by our own word "stuff" may -perhaps be due to a reminiscence of an old Pythagorean fancy -which looked on the universe as a ship. The word for form -is the same as Plato's, and its philosophical uses are closely -connected with its mathematical sense, "regular figure," also -a Pythagorean technicality which still survives in certain -stereotyped phrases in Euclid. Aristotle extends the analysis -into Matter and Form by analogy beyond the range of -individual substances to everything in which we can distinguish -a relatively indeterminate "somewhat" and a law or type -of order and arrangement giving it determination. Thus if -you consider the relatively fixed or "formed" character of a -man in adult life, we may look upon this character as produced -out of the "raw material" of tendencies and dispositions, -which have received a specific development along definite -lines, according to the kind of training to which the mind has -been subjected in the "formative" period of its growth. We -may therefore speak of native disposition as the matter or -stuff of which character is made, and the practical problem -of education is to devise a system of training which shall -impress on this matter precisely the form required if the grown -man is to be a good citizen of a good state. Since a man's -character itself is not a substance but a complex of habits or -fixed ways of reacting upon suggestions coming from the world -around him, this is a good instance of the extension of the -antithesis of Matter and Form beyond the category of -substance. We see then that Matter in the Aristotelian sense -must not be confounded with body; the relatively undetermined -factor which receives completer determination by the -structural law or Form is Matter, whether it is corporeal or not. -This comes out with particular clearness in the metaphysical -interpretation put on the logical process of definition by genus -and difference. When I define any real kind by specifying -a higher and wider class of which it is a sub-kind, and adding -the peculiar characteristics which distinguish the sub-kind -under consideration from the other sub-kinds of the same -genus, the genus may be said to stand to the "differences" -as Matter, the relatively indeterminate, to the Form which -gives it its structure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We further observe that Matter and Form are strictly -correlative. The matter is called so relatively to the form which -gives it further determination. When the words are used in -their strictest sense, with reference to an individual thing, the -Form is taken to mean the </span><em class="italics">last</em><span> determination by which the -thing acquires its complete character, and the Matter is that -which has yet to receive this last determination. Thus in the -case of a copper globe, the spherical figure is said to be its -Form, the copper its material. In the case of the human body, -the Matter is the various tissues, muscles, bones, skin, &c. -But each of these things which are counted as belonging to the -Matter of the globe or the human body has, according to -Aristotle, a development behind it. Copper is not an "element" -but a specific combination of "elements," and the same thing -is even more true of the highly elaborate tissues of the living -body. Thus what is Matter relatively to the globe or living -body is Matter already determined by Form if we consider it -relatively to its own constituents. The so-called "elements" -of Empedocles, earth, water, air, fire, are the matter of all -chemical compounds, the Form of each compound being its -specific law of composition; the immediate or "proximate" -Matter of the tissues of the animal body is, according to -Aristotle's biology, the "superfluous" blood of the female parent, -out of which the various tissues in the offspring are developed, -and the Matter of this blood is in turn the various substances -which are taken into the body of the parent as food and -converted by assimilation into blood. Their Matter, once more, -is the earth, air, fire, and water of which they are composed. -Thus at every stage of a process of manufacture or growth a -fresh Form is superinduced on, or developed within, a Matter -which is already itself a combination of Matter and Form -relatively to the process by which it has itself been originated. -Fully thought out, such a view would lead to the conclusion -that in the end the simple ultimate matter of all individual -things is one and the same throughout the universe, and has -absolutely no definite structure at all. The introduction of -Form or determinate structure of any kind would then have to -be thought of as coming from an outside source, since structureless -Matter cannot be supposed to give itself all sorts of specific -determinations, as has been demonstrated in our own times by -the collapse of the "Synthetic Philosophy." Aristotle avoids -the difficulty by holding that "pure Matter" is a creation of -our thought. In actual fact the crudest form in which matter -is found is that of the "elements." Since the transmutability -of the "elements" is an indispensable tenet in Aristotle's -Physics, we cannot avoid regarding earth, water, fire air as -themselves determinations by specific Form of a still simpler -Matter, though this "prime Matter" "all alone, before a rag of -Form is on," is never to be found existing in its simplicity.[#]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] </span><em class="italics small">Hudibras</em><span class="small">, Pt. 1, Canto 1, 560.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">"He had First Matter seen undressed; -<br />He took her naked all alone, -<br />Before one rag of Form was on."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">The Potential and the Actual</strong><span>.--So far we have been looking -at the analysis of the individual thing, as the current jargon -puts it, statically; we have arrived at the antithesis of -Matter and Form by contrasting an unfinished condition of -anything with its finished condition. But we may study the -same contrast dynamically, with special reference to the process -of making or growth by which the relatively undetermined or -unfinished becomes determined or finished. The contrast of -Matter with Form then passes into the contrast between -Potentiality and Actuality. What this antithesis means we -can best see from the case of the growth of a living organism. -Consider the embryos of two animals, or the seeds of two -plants. Even a botanist or a physiologist may be unable to -pronounce with certainty on the species to which the germ -submitted to him belongs, and chemical analysis may be equally at -a loss. Even at a later stage of development, the embryo of -one vertebrate animal may be indistinguishable from that of -another. Yet it is certain that one of two originally -indistinguishable germs will grow into an oak and the other into an -elm, or one into a chimpanzee and the other into a man. -However indistinguishable, they therefore may be said to have -different latent tendencies or possibilities of development within -them. Hence we may say of a given germ, "though this is -not yet actually an oak, it is potentially an oak," meaning not -merely that, if uninterfered with, it will in time be an oak, -but also that by no interference can it be made to grow into -an elm or a beech. So we may look upon all processes of -production or development as processes by which what at first -possessed only the tendency to grow along certain lines or to -be worked up into a certain form, has become actually endowed -with the character to which it possessed the tendency. The -acorn becomes in process of time an actual oak, the baby an -actual man, the copper is made into an actual vase, right education -brings out into active exercise the special capacities of the -learner. Hence the distinction between Matter and Form may -also be expressed by saying that the Matter is the persistent -underlying </span><em class="italics">substratum</em><span> in which the development of the Form -takes place, or that the individual when finally determined by -the Form is the Actuality of which the undeveloped Matter -was the Potentiality. The process of conception, birth, and -growth to maturity in Nature, or of the production of a finished -article by the "arts" whose business it is to "imitate" Nature, -may be said to be one of continuous advance towards the -actual embodiment of a Form, or law of organisation, in a -Matter having the latent potentiality of developing along those -special lines. When Aristotle is speaking most strictly he -distinguishes the process by which a Form is realised, which he -calls Energeia, from the manifestation of the realised Form, -calling the latter Entelechy (literally "finished" or -"completed" condition). Often, however, he uses the word Energeia -more loosely for the actual manifestation of the Form itself, -and in this he is followed by the scholastic writers, who render -Energeia by </span><em class="italics">actus</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">actus purus</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One presupposition of this process must be specially noted. -It is not an unending process of development of unrealised -capacities, but always has an End in the perfectly simple -sense of a last stage. We see this best in the case of growth. -The acorn grows into the sapling and the sapling into the oak, -but there is nothing related to the oak as the oak is to the -sapling. The oak does not grow into something else. The -process of development from potential to actual in this special -case comes to an end with the emergence of the mature oak. -In the organic world the end or last state is recognised by the -fact that the organism can now exercise the power of reproducing -its like. This tendency of organic process to culminate -in a last stage of complete maturity is the key to the -treatment of the problem of the "true end" of life in Aristotle's -</span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Four Causes</strong><span>.--The conception of the world involved -in these antitheses of Form and Matter, Potential and Actual, -finds its fullest expression in Aristotle's doctrine of the Four -Causes or conditions of the production of things. This doctrine -is looked on by Aristotle as the final solution of the problem -which had always been the central one for Greek philosophy, -What are the causes of the world-order? All the previous -philosophies he regards as inadequate attempts to formulate -the answer to this question which is only given completely by -his own system. Hence the doctrine requires to be stated -with some fullness. We may best approach it by starting from -the literal meaning of the Greek terms </span><em class="italics">aitia</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">aition</em><span>, which -Aristotle uses to convey the notion of cause. </span><em class="italics">Aition</em><span> is properly -an adjective used substantially, and means "that on which -the legal responsibility for a given state of affairs can be laid." -Similarly </span><em class="italics">aitia</em><span>, the substantive, means the "credit" for good -or bad, the legal "responsibility," for an act. Now when we -ask, "what is responsible for the fact that such and such -a state of things now exists?" there are four partial answers -which may be given, and each of these corresponds to one of -the "causes." A complete answer requires the enumeration -of them all. We may mention (1) the </span><em class="italics">matter</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">material</em><span> -cause of the thing, (2) the law according to which it has grown -or developed, the </span><em class="italics">form</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">formal</em><span> cause, (3) the agent with -whose initial impulse the development began--the "starting-point -of the process," or, as the later Aristotelians call it, the -</span><em class="italics">efficient</em><span> cause, (4) the completed result of the whole process, -which is present in the case of human manufacture as a -preconceived idea determining the maker's whole method of -handling his material, and in organic development in Nature -as implied in and determining the successive stages of -growth--the </span><em class="italics">end</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">final</em><span> cause. If any one of these had been -different, the resultant state of things would also have been -different. Hence all four must be specified in completely -accounting for it. Obvious illustrations can be given from -artificial products of human skill, but it seems clear that it -was rather reflection on the biological process of reproduction -and growth which originally suggested the analysis. Suppose -we ask what was requisite in order that there should be now an -oak on a given spot. There must have been (1) a germ from -which the oak has grown, and this germ must have had the -latent tendencies towards development which are characteristic -of oaks. This is the material cause of the oak. (2) This -germ must have followed a definite law of growth; it must -have had a tendency to grow in the way characteristic of oaks -and to develop the structure of an oak, not that of a plane or -an ash. This is form or formal cause. (3) Also the germ of -the oak did not come from nowhere; it grew on a parent oak. -The parent oak and its acorn-bearing activity thus constitute -the </span><em class="italics">efficient</em><span> cause of the present oak. (4) And there must be -a final stage to which the whole process of growth is relative, -in which the germ or sapling is no longer becoming but is an -adult oak bearing fresh acorns. This is the </span><em class="italics">end</em><span> of the process. -One would not be going far wrong in saying that Aristotle's -biological cast of thought leads him to conceive of this "end" -in the case of reproduction as a sub-conscious purpose, just as -the workman's thought of the result to be attained by his -action forms a conscious directing purpose in the case of -manufacture. Both in Nature and in "art" the "form," the -"efficient cause," and the "end" tend to coalesce. Thus in -Nature "a man begets a man," organic beings give birth to -other organic beings of the same kind, or, in the technical -language of the Aristotelian theory of Causation, the efficient -cause produces, as the "end" of its action, a second being -having the same "form" as itself, though realised in different -"matter," and numerically distinct from itself. Thus the -efficient cause (</span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> the parent) is a "form" realised in -matter, and the "end" is the same "form" realised in other -matter. So in "products of art" the true "source of the -process" is the "form" the realisation of which is the "end" -or final cause, only with this difference, that as efficient cause -the "form" exists not in the material but by way of "idea" -or "representation" in the mind of the craftsman. A house -does not produce another house, but the house as existing in -"idea" in the builder's mind sets him at work building, and -so produces a corresponding house in brick or stone. Thus -the ultimate opposition is between the "cause as matter," a -passive and inert substratum of change and development and -the "formal" cause which, in the sense just explained, is one -with both the "efficient" or starting-point, and the "end" -or goal of development. It will, of course, be seen that -individual bearers of "forms" are indispensable in the theory; -hence the notion of </span><em class="italics">activity</em><span> is essential to the causal relation. -It is a relation between things, not between events. Aristotle -has no sense of the word cause corresponding to Mill's -conception of a cause as an event which is the uniform precursor -of another event.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two more remarks may be made in this connection. (1) -The prominence of the notion of "end" gives Aristotle's -philosophy a thorough-going "ideological" character. God -and Nature, he tells us, do nothing aimlessly. We should -probably be mistaken if we took this to mean that "God and -Nature" act everywhere with conscious design. The meaning -is rather that every natural process has a last stage in which -the "form" which was to begin with present in the agent or -"source of change" is fully realised in the matter in which -the agent has set up the process of change. The normal thing -is </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> for animals to reproduce "their kind"; if the reproduction -is imperfect or distorted, as in monstrous births, this is -an exception due to the occasional presence in "matter" of -imperfections which hinder the course of development, and -must be regarded as "contrary to the normal course of Nature." So -hybrid reproduction is exceptional and "against Nature," -and this is shown by the sterility of hybrids, a sort of lesser -monstrosity. Even females, being "arrested developments," -are a sort of still minor deviation from principle. (2) It may -just be mentioned that Aristotle has a classification of efficient -causes under the three heads of Nature, Intelligence (or Man), -and Chance. The difference between Nature and Man or -Intelligence as efficient causes has already been illustrated. It -is that in causation by Nature, such as sexual reproduction, or -the assimilation of nutriment, or the conversion of one element -into another in which Aristotle believed, the form which is -superinduced on the matter by the agent already exists in the -agent itself as </span><em class="italics">its</em><span> form. The oak springs from a parent oak, -the conversion of nutriment into organic tissue is due to the -agency of already existing organic tissue. In the case of human -intelligence or art, the "form" to be superinduced exists in -the agent not as </span><em class="italics">his</em><span> characteristic form, but by way of -representation, as a contemplated design. The man who builds a -house is not himself a house; the form characteristic of a house -is very different from that characteristic of a man, but it is -present in contemplation to the builder before it is embodied -in the actual house. A word may be added about the third -sort of efficient causality, causation by chance. This is confined -to cases which are exceptions from the general course of Nature, -remarkable coincidences. It is what we may call "simulated -purposiveness." When something in human affairs happens -in a way which subserves the achievement of a result but was -not really brought about by any intention to secure the result, -we speak of it as a remarkable coincidence. Thus it would be -a coincidence if a man should be held to ransom by brigands -and his best friend should, without knowing anything of the -matter, turn up on the spot with the means of ransoming him. -The events could not have happened more opportunely if they -had been planned, and yet they were not planned but merely -fell out so: and since such a combination of circumstances -simulating design is unusual, it is not proper to say that the -events happened "in the course of Nature." We therefore -say it happened by chance. This doctrine of chance has its -significance for mediæval Ethics. In an age when the -Protestant superstition that worldly success is proof of nearness -to God had not yet been invented, the want of correspondence -between men's "deserts" and their prosperity was accounted -for by the view that the distribution of worldly goods is, as a -rule, the work of Fortune or Chance in the Aristotelian sense; -that is, it is due to special coincidences which may look like -deliberate design but are not really so. (See the elaborate -exposition of this in Dante, </span><em class="italics">Inferno</em><span>, vii. 67-97.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Motion</strong><span>.--We have seen that causation, natural or artificial, -requires the production in a certain "matter" of a certain -"form" under the influence of a certain "agent." What is -the character of the process set up by the agent in the matter -and culminating in the appearance of the form? Aristotle -answers that it is Motion (</span><em class="italics">kinesis</em><span>). The effect of the agent -on the matter is to set up in it a motion which ends in its -assuming a definite form. The important point to be noted -here is that Aristotle regards this motion as falling wholly -within the matter which is to assume the form. It is not -necessary that the agent should itself be in motion, but only -that it should induce motion in something else. Thus in all -cases of intentional action the ultimate efficient cause is the -"idea of the result to be attained," but this idea does not -move about. By its presence to the mind it sets something -else (the members of the body) moving. This conception of -an efficient cause which, not moving itself, by its mere presence -induces movement in that to which it is present, is of the -highest importance in Aristotle's theology. Of course it follows -that since the motion by which the transition from potentiality -to actuality is achieved falls wholly within the matter acted -upon, Aristotle is not troubled with any of the questions as to -the way in which motion can be transferred from one body to -another which were so much agitated in the early days of the -modern mechanical interpretation of natural processes. -Aristotle's way of conceiving Nature is thoroughly non-mechanical, -and approximates to what would now be called the ascription -of vital or quasi-vital characteristics to the inorganic. As, in -the causality of "art" the mere presence of the "form" to be -embodied in a given material to the mind of the craftsman -brings about and directs the process of manufacture, so in some -analogous fashion the presence of an efficient cause in Nature to -that on which it works is thought of as itself constituting the -"efficiency" of the cause. As Lotze phrases it, things "take -note of" one another's compresence in the universe, or we -might say the efficient cause and that on which it exercises -its efficiency are </span><em class="italics">en rapport</em><span>. "Matter" is sensitive to the -presence of the "efficient cause," and in response to this -sensitivity, puts forth successive determinations, expands its -latent tendencies on definite lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The name "motion" has a wider sense for Aristotle than it -has for ourselves. He includes under the one common name -all the processes by which things come to be what they are or -cease to be what they have been. Thus he distinguishes the -following varieties of "motion": </span><em class="italics">generation</em><span> (the coming of an -individual thing into being), with its opposite </span><em class="italics">decay</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">corruption</em><span> -(the passing of a thing out of being), </span><em class="italics">alteration</em><span> (change of </span><em class="italics">quality</em><span> -in a thing), </span><em class="italics">augmentation</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">diminution</em><span> (change in the </span><em class="italics">magnitude</em><span> -of a thing), </span><em class="italics">motion through space</em><span> (of which latter he recognises -two sub-species, rectilinear </span><em class="italics">transference</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">rotation</em><span> in a -circular orbit about an axis). It is this last variety, motion -through space, which is the most fundamental of all, since its -occurrence is involved in that of any of the other types of -process mentioned, though Aristotle does not hold the -thorough-going mechanical view that the other processes are only -apparent, and that, as we should put it, qualitative change is -a mere disguise which mechanical motion wears for our senses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Eternity of Motion</strong><span>.--Certain very important consequences -follow from the conception of efficient causation which -we have been describing. Aristotle has no sympathy with the -"evolutionist" views which had been favoured by some of his -predecessors. According to his theory of organic generation, -"it takes a man to beget a man "; where there is a baby, there -must have been a father. Biological kinds representing real -clefts in Nature, the process of the production of a young -generation by an already adult generation must be thought of -as without beginning and without end. There can be no -natural "evolution" of animals of one species from individuals -of a different kind. Nor does it occur to Aristotle to take into -account the possibility of "Creationism," the sudden coming -into being of a fully fledged first generation at a stroke. This -possibility is excluded by the doctrine that the "matter" of -a thing must exist beforehand as an indispensable condition of -the production of that thing. Every baby, as we said, must -have had a father, but that father must also have been a baby -before he was a full-grown man. Hence the perpetuation of -unchanging species must be without beginning and without end. -And it is implied that all the various processes, within and -without the organism, apart from which its life could not -be kept up, must be equally without beginning and without -end. The "cosmos," or orderly world of natural processes, is -strictly "eternal"; "motion" is everlasting and continuous, -or unbroken. Even the great Christian theologians who built -upon Aristotle could not absolutely break with him on this -point. St. Thomas, though obliged to admit that the world -was actually created a few thousand years before his own time, -maintains that this can only be known to be true from revelation, -philosophically it is equably tenable that the world should -have been "created from all eternity." And it is the general -doctrine of scholasticism that the expression "creation" only -denotes the absolute dependence of the world on God for its -being. When we say "God created the world out of nothing," -we mean that He did not make it out of pre-existing matter, -that it depends for its being on Him only; the expression is -purely negative in its import.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">God</strong><span>.--With the doctrine of the eternity of the world and -the processes which make up its life we come close to the -culminating theory of Aristotelian First Philosophy, its doctrine -of God, as the eternal, unchanging source of all change, -movement, and process. All motion is a process within matter by -which the forms latent in it are brought into actual manifestation. -And the process only takes place in the presence of an -adequate efficient cause or source of motion. Hence the eternity -of natural processes involves the existence of one or more -eternal sources of motion. For, if we do not admit the -existence of an unoriginated and ever-present source or sources of -motion, our only alternative is to hold that the world-process -is due to a series of sources of motion existing successively. -But such a view would leave the unity and unbroken continuity -of the world-process unaccounted for. It would give us a -succession of processes, temporally contiguous, not one unbroken -process. Hence we argue from the continuity of motion to its -dependence on a source or sources which are permanent and -present throughout the whole everlasting world-process. And -when we come to the question whether there is only one such -ultimate source of movement for the whole universe, or several, -Aristotle's answer is that the supreme "Unmoved Mover" is -one. One is enough for the purpose, and the law of parcimony -forbids us to assume the superfluous. This then is the -Aristotelian conception of God and God's relation to the world. God -is the one supreme unchanging being to whose presence the -world responds with the whole process of cosmic development, -the ultimate educer of the series of "forms" latent in the -"matter" of the world into actual manifestation. Standing, -as He does, outside the whole process which by His mere -presence He initiates in Nature, He is not himself a composite -of "form" and "matter," as the products of development are. -He is a pure individual "form" or "actuality," with no history -of gradual development behind it. Thus He is a purely -immaterial being, indispensable to the world's existence but -transcending it and standing outside it. </span><em class="italics">How</em><span> His presence inspires -the world to move Aristotle tries to explain by the metaphor -of appetition. Just as the good I desire and conceive, without -itself "moving" "moves" my appetition, so God moves the -universe by being its good. This directly brings about a uniform -unbroken rotation of the whole universe round its axis (in fact, -the alternation of day and night). And since this rotation is -communicated from the outermost "sphere" of heaven to all -the lesser "spheres" between it and the immovable centre, -the effects of God's presence are felt universally. At the same -time, we must note that though God is the supreme Mover of -the Universe, He is not regarded by Aristotle as its Creator, -even in the sense in which creation can be reconciled with the -eternity of the world. For the effect of God's presence is simply -to lead to the development of "form" in an already existing -"matter." Without God there could be no "form" or order -in things, not even as much as is implied in the differentiation -of matter into the four "elements," yet "primary matter" is -no less than God a precondition of all that happens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is characteristic of Aristotle that his God is as far from -discharging the functions of a Providence as He is from being -a Creator. His "activity" is not, as Plato had made it, that -of the great "Shepherd of the sheep." As far as the world is -concerned, God's only function is to be there to move its -appetition. For the rest, the unbroken activity of this life is -directed wholly inward. Aristotle expressly calls it an "activity -of immobility." More precisely, he tells us, it is activity of -thought, exercised unbrokenly and everlastingly upon the only -object adequate to exercise God's contemplation, Himself. -His life is one of everlasting </span><em class="italics">self</em><span>-contemplation or "thinking -of thought itself." Like all unimpeded exercise of activity, it is -attended by pleasure, and as the activity is continuous, so the -pleasure of it is continuous too. At our best, when we give -ourselves up to the pure contemplative activity of scientific -thought or æsthetic appreciation, we enter for a while into this -divine life and share the happiness of God. But that is a theme -for our chapter on the </span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is a far cry from this conception of a God untroubled by -care for a world to which He is only related as the object of its -aspiration to the God who cares even for the fall of the sparrow -and of whom it is written, </span><em class="italics">Sic Deus dilexit mundum</em><span>, but it -was the standing task of the philosophical theologians of the -Middle Ages to fuse the two conceptions. Plato's God, who, if -not quite the Creator, is the "Father and Fashioner" of us all, -and keeps providential watch over the world He has fashioned, -would have lent Himself better to their purposes, but Plato -was held by the mediæval church to have denied the resurrection -of the body. The combination of Aristotle's Theism with -the Theism of early Christianity was effected by exquisitely -subtle logical devices, but even in St. Thomas one cannot help -seeing the seams.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor can one help seeing in Aristotle's own doctrine the -usual want of coherence between an initial anti-Platonic bias -and a final reversion to the very Platonic positions Aristotle -is fond of impugning. We are told at the outset that the -Platonic "separate forms" are empty names, and that the -real individual thing is always a composite of matter and a -form which only exists "in matter." We find in the end that -the source of the whole process by which "matter" becomes -imbued with "form" is a being which is "pure" form and stands -outside the whole development which its presence sets up. -And the issue of Aristotle's warning against "poetic metaphors" -is the doctrine that God moves the world by being "the object -of the world's desire."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="physics"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PHYSICS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There is no part of Aristotle's system which has been more -carefully thought out than his Physics; at the same time it is -almost wholly on account of his physical doctrines that his long -ascendancy over thought is so much to be regretted. Aristotle's -qualifications as a man of science have been much overrated. -In one department, that of descriptive natural history, he shows -himself a master of minute and careful observation who could -obtain unqualified praise from so great a naturalist as Darwin. -But in Astronomy and Physics proper his inferiority in -mathematical thinking and his dislike for mechanical ways of -explaining facts put him at a great disadvantage, as compared with -Plato and Plato's Pythagorean friends. Thus his authority was -for centuries one of the chief influences which prevented the -development of Astronomy on right lines. Plato had himself -both taught the mobility of the earth and denied correctly that -the earth is at the centre of the universe, and the -"Copernican" hypothesis in Astronomy probably originated in the -Academy. Aristotle, however, insists on the central position of -the earth, and violently attacks Plato for believing in its motion. -It is equally serious that he insists on treating the so-called -"four elements" as ultimately unanalysable forms of matter, -though Plato had not only observed that so far from being the -ABC (</span><em class="italics">stoicheia</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">elementa</em><span>, literally, letters of the alphabet) -of Nature they do not deserve to be called even "syllables," -but had also definitely put forward the view that it is the -geometrical structure of the "corpuscles" of body upon which -sensible qualities depend. It is on this doctrine, of course, that -all mathematical physics rests. Aristotle reverts to the older -theory that the differences between one "element" and another -are qualitative differences of a sensible kind. Even in the -biological sciences Aristotle shows an unfortunate proneness to -disregard established fact when it conflicts with the theories -for which he has a personal liking. Thus, though the -importance of the brain as the central organ of the sensori-motor -system had been discovered in the late sixth or early fifth -century by the physician Alemacon of Crotona, and taught by the -great Hippocrates in the fifth and by Plato in the fourth -century, Aristotle's prejudices in favour of the doctrines of a -different school of biologists led him to revert to the view that -it is the heart which is the centre of what we now call the -"nervous system." It is mainly on account of these reactionary -scientific views that he was attacked in the early seventeenth -century by writers like our own Francis Bacon, who found in -veneration for Aristotle one of the chief hindrances to the free -development of natural science. The same complaints had -been made long before by critics belonging to the Platonic -Academy. It is a Platonist of the time of Marcus Aurelius -who sums up a vigorous attack on the Aristotelian astronomy -by the remark that Aristotle never understood that the true -task of the physicist is not to prescribe laws to Nature, but to -learn from observation of the facts what the laws followed by -Nature are.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In determining the scope of Physics, we have to begin by -considering what is the special characteristic of things -produced by Nature as contrasted with those produced by -"art." The obvious distinction, intimated by the very etymology of -the word "Nature" (</span><em class="italics">physis</em><span>, connected with </span><em class="italics">phyesthai</em><span>, to -grow, to be born, as </span><em class="italics">natura</em><span> is with </span><em class="italics">nasci</em><span>), is that "what is by -Nature" is born and grows, whereas what is as a result of -artifice is </span><em class="italics">made</em><span>. The "natural" may thus be said to consist -of living bodies and of their constituent parts. Hence -inorganic matter also is included in "Nature," on the ground -that living tissue can be analysed back into compounds of the -"elements." Now things which are alive and grow are -distinguished from things which are made by "a source of motion -and quiescence within themselves"; all of them exhibit motions, -changes of quality, processes of growth and decline which are -initiated from within. Hence Nature may be defined as the -totality of things which have a source of motion internal to -themselves and of the constituent parts of such things. Nature -then comprises all beings capable of spontaneous change. -Whatever either does not change at all, or only changes in -consequence of external influences, is excluded from Nature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the fundamental fact everywhere present in Nature is -"change," "process," "motion." Since motion in the literal sense -of change of position is involved as a condition of every such -process, and such motion requires space through which to move -and time to move in, the doctrine of space and time will also -form part of Physics. Hence a great part of Aristotle's special -lectures on Physics is occupied with discussion of the nature of -space and time, and of the continuity which we must ascribe -to them if the "continuous motion" on which the unbroken -life of the universe depends is to be real Aristotle knows -nothing of the modern questions whether space and time are -"real" or only "phenomenal," whether they are "objective" -or "subjective." Just as he simply assumes that bodies are -things that really exist, whether we happen to perceive them -or not, so he assumes that the space and time in which they -move are real features of a world that does not depend for -its existence on our perceiving it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His treatment of space is singularly </span><em class="italics">naïf</em><span>. He conceives it -as a sort of vessel, into which you can pour different liquids. -Just as the same pot may hold first wine and then water, -so, if you can say, "there was water here, but now there is -air here," this implies the existence of a receptacle which once -held the water, but now holds the air. Hence a jug or pot -may be called a "place that can be carried about," and space -or place may be called "an immovable vessel." Hence the -"place" of a thing may be defined as the boundary, or inner -surface, of the body which immediately surrounds the thing. -It follows from this that there can be no empty space. In -the last resort, "absolute space" is the actual surface of the -outermost "heaven" which contains everything else in itself -but is not contained in any remoter body. Thus all things -whatever are "in" this "heaven." But it is not itself "in" -anything else. In accord with the standing Greek identification -of determinate character with limitation, Aristotle holds -that this outermost heaven must be at a limited distance from -us. Actual space is thus finite in the sense that the volume -of the universe could be expressed as a finite number of cubic -miles or yards, though, since it must be "continuous," it is -infinitely divisible. However often you subdivide a length, an -area, or a volume, you will always be dividing it into lesser -lengths, &c., which can once more be divided. You will never -by division come to "points," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> mere positions without -magnitude of divisibility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The treatment of time is more thoughtful. Time is inseparably -connected with movement or change. We only perceive that -time has elapsed when we perceive that change has occurred. -But time is not the same as change. For change is of different -and incommensurate kinds, change of place, change of colour, -&c.; but to take up time is common to all these forms of -process. And time is not the same as motion. For there are -different rates of speed, but the very fact that we can compare -these different velocities implies that there are not different -velocities of </span><em class="italics">time</em><span>. Time then is that in terms of which we -</span><em class="italics">measure</em><span> motion, "the number of motion in respect of before -and after," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> it is that by which we estimate the </span><em class="italics">duration</em><span> -of processes. Thus </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> when we speak of </span><em class="italics">two</em><span> minutes, </span><em class="italics">two</em><span> -days, </span><em class="italics">two</em><span> months as required for a certain process to be -completed, we are counting something. This something is time. -It does not seem to occur to Aristotle that this definition -implies that there are indivisible bits of time, though he quite -correctly states the incompatible proposition that time is "made -up of successive </span><em class="italics">nows</em><span>," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> moments which have no duration -at all, and can no more be counted than the points on a -straight line. He recognises of course that the "continuity" -of motion implies that of time as well as of space. Since, -however, "continuity" in his language means the same thing -as indefinite divisibility, it ought not to be possible for him -to regard time as "made up of </span><em class="italics">nows</em><span>"; time, like linear -extension, ought for him to be a "length of" something.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Continuous Motion and the "Spheres."</strong><span>--The -continuous world-process depends upon a continuous movement set -up in the universe as a whole by the presence of an everlasting -and unchangeable "First Mover," God. From the self-sameness -of God, it follows that this most universal of movements -must be absolutely uniform. Of what precise kind can such -a movement be? As the source of the movement is one, -and the object moved is also one--viz. the compass of the -"heaven," the movement of the </span><em class="italics">primum mobile</em><span> or "first -moved"--the object immediately stimulated to motion by God's -presence to it, must be mechanically simple. Now Aristotle, -mistakenly, held that there are two forms of movement which -are simple and unanalysable, motion of translation along a -straight line, and motion of rotation round an axis. He is at -pains to argue that rectilinear motion, which we easily -discover to be that characteristic of bodies near the earth's surface -when left to themselves, cannot be the kind of movement -which belongs to the "heaven" as a whole. For continuous -rectilinear movement in the same direction could not go on -for ever on his assumption that there is no space outside the -"heaven," which is itself at a finite distance from us. And -motion to and fro would not be unbroken, since Aristotle -argues that every time a moving body reached the end of its -path, and the sense of its movement was reversed, it would -be for two consecutive moments in the same place, and -therefore at rest. Reversal of sense would imply a discontinuity. -Hence he decides that the primary unbroken movement must -be the rotation of the "first moved"--that is, the heaven -containing the fixed stars--round its axis. This is the only -movement which could go on for ever at a uniform rate and in -the same sense. Starting with the conviction that the earth -is at rest in the centre of the universe, he inevitably accounts -for the alternation of day and night as the effect of such a -revolution of the whole universe round an axis passing -through the centre of the earth. The universe is thus thought -of as bounded by a spherical surface, on the concave side of -which are the fixed stars, which are therefore one and all at -the same distance from us. This sphere, under the immediate -influence of God, revolves on its axis once in twenty-four hours, -and this period of revolution is absolutely uniform. Next the -apparently irregular paths of the "planets" known to Aristotle -(</span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> the moon, Mercury, Venus, the sun, Mars, Jupiter, -Saturn) are resolved into combinations of similar uniform -rotations, each planet having as many "spheres" assigned to -it as are requisite for the analysis of its apparent path into -perfectly circular elementary motions. Altogether Aristotle -holds that fifty-four such rotating spheres are required over -and above the "first moved" itself, whose rotation is, of -course, communicated to all the lesser "spheres" included -within it. As in the case of the "first moved," the uniform -unceasing rotation of each "sphere" is explained by the -influence on it of an unchanging immaterial "form," which -is to its own "sphere" what God is to the universe as a -whole. In the Aristotelianism of the mediæval church these -pure forms or intelligences which originate the movements of -the various planetary spheres are naturally identified with -angels. It is </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> to the angelic intelligences which "move" -the heaven of Venus, which comes third in order counting -outward from the earth, that Dante addresses his famous Canzone, -</span><em class="italics">Voi ch' intendendo il terzo del movete</em><span>. The mediæval astronomy, -however, differs in two important respects from that of Aristotle -himself. (1) The number of "spheres" is different. Increasing -knowledge of the complexity of the paths of the planets -showed that if their paths are to be analysed into combinations -of circular motions, fifty-four such rotations must be an -altogether inadequate number. Aristotle's method of analysis -of the heavenly movements was therefore combined with either -or both of two others originated by pure astronomers who sat -loose to metaphysics. One of these methods was to account -for a planet's path by the introduction of </span><em class="italics">epicycles</em><span>. The -planet was thought of not as fixed at a given point on its -principal sphere, but as situated on the circumference of a -lesser sphere which has its centre at a fixed point of the -principal sphere and rotates around an axis passing through -this centre. If need were, this type of hypothesis could be -further complicated by imagining any number of such epicycles -within epicycles. The other method was the employment of -"eccentrics," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> circular movements which are described not -about the common centre of the earth and the universe, but -about some point in its neighbourhood. By combinations of -epicycles and eccentrics the mediæval astronomers contrived -to reduce the number of principal spheres to </span><em class="italics">one</em><span> for each -planet, the arrangement we find in Dante. (2) Also real or -supposed astronomical perturbations unknown to Aristotle -led some mediæval theorists to follow the scheme devised by -Alphonso the Wise of Castille, in which further spheres are -inserted between that of Saturn, the outermost planet, and -the "first moved." In Dante, we have, excluding the -"empyrean" or immovable heaven where God and the blessed are, -nine "spheres," one for each of the planets, one for the fixed -stars, and one for the "first moved," which is now distinguished -from the heaven of the stars. In Milton, who adopts -the "Alphonsine" scheme, we have further a sphere called -the "second movable" or "crystalline" introduced between -the heaven of the fixed stars and the "first moved," to account -for the imaginary phenomenon of "trepidation."[#] In reading -Dante, Shakespeare, and Milton, we have always to remember -that none of these reproduces the Aristotelian doctrine of the -"spheres" accurately; their astronomy is an amalgam of -Aristotle, Ptolemy, and Hipparchus.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] </span><em class="italics small">Paradise Lost</em><span class="small">, iii. 481.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">"They pass the planets seven, and pass the fixed, -<br />And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs -<br />The trepidation talked, and that first moved."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So far, the doctrine of the fifty-five "spheres" might be no -more than a legitimate mathematical fiction, a convenient device -for analysing the complicated apparent movements of the heavenly -bodies into circular components. This was originally the part -played by "spheres" in ancient astronomical theory, and it is -worth while to be quite clear about the fact, as there is a -mistaken impression widely current to-day that Aristotle's astronomy -is typical of Greek views in general. The truth is that it is -peculiar to himself. The origin of the theory was Academic. -Plato proposed to the Academy as a subject of inquiry, to -devise such a mathematical analysis of astronomical motions as -will best "save the appearances," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> will most simply account -for the apparent paths of the planets. The analysis of these -paths into resultants of several rotations was offered as a solution -by the astronomer Eudoxus of Cnidus. So far, the "spheres," -then, were a mere mathematical hypothesis. What Aristotle -did, and it is perhaps the most retrograde step ever taken in -the history of a science, was to convert the mathematical -hypothesis into physical fact. The "spheres" become with -him real bodies, and as none of the bodies we are familiar with -exhibit any tendency to rotate in circles when left to themselves, -Aristotle was forced to introduce into Physics the disastrous -theory, which it was a great part of Galileo's life-work to -destroy, that the stuff of which the spheres are made is a -"fifth body," different from the "elements" of which the -bodies among which we live are made. Hence he makes an -absolute distinction between two kinds of matter, "celestial -matter," the "fifth body," and "terrestrial" or "elementary" -matter. The fundamental difference is that "terrestrial" or -"elementary" matter, left to itself, follows a rectilinear path, -"celestial" matter rotates, but it is further inferred from the -supposed absolute uniformity of the celestial movements that -"celestial matter" is simple, uncompounded, incapable of -change, and consequently that no new state of things can ever -arise in the heavens. The spheres and planets have always -been and will always be exactly as they are at the present -moment. Mutability is confined to the region of "terrestrial" -or "elementary" matter, which only extends as far as the orbit -of the moon, the "lowest of the celestial bodies," because it is -only "terrestrial" things which are, as we should say, chemical -compounds. This is the doctrine which Galileo has in mind -when he dwells on such newly-discovered astronomical facts as -the existence of sun-spots and variable stars, and the signs of -irregularity presented by the moon's surface. The distinction -is peculiar to Aristotle. No one before him had ever thought -of supposing the heavenly bodies to be made of any materials -other than those of which "bodies terrestrial" are made. In -the Academic attack on Aristotle's science of which we have -already spoken the two points singled out for reprobation are -(1) his rejection of the principle that all moving bodies, left to -themselves, follow a rectilinear path, and (2) his denial that -the heavenly bodies are made of the same "elements" as -everything else. (It may just be mentioned in passing that our -word </span><em class="italics">quintessence</em><span> gets its sense from the supposed special -"nobility" of the incorruptible "fifth body.")</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Terrestrial Bodies</strong><span>.--As we have seen already, Aristotle was -out of sympathy with the tendency to regard the sensible -differences between bodies as consequences of more ultimate -differences in the geometrical structure of their particles. Hence -his whole attitude towards the problems of that branch of -natural science which we call physics is quite unlike any view -to which we are accustomed. He reverts from the mathematical -lines of thought current in Plato's Academy to the type of view -more natural to the "plain man," and, like the earliest -sixth-century men of science, regards the </span><em class="italics">qualitative</em><span> differences which -our senses apprehend as fundamental. Among these, particular -stress is laid on the difference in sensible temperature (the -hot--the cold), in saturation (the dry--the moist), and in density -(the dense--the rare). If we consider the first two of these -oppositions, we can make four binary combinations of the -elementary "opposite" characters, viz. hot and dry, hot and -moist, cold and moist, cold and dry. These combinations are -regarded as corresponding respectively to the sensible characteristics -of the four bodies which Empedocles, the father of Greek -chemistry, had treated as the ultimate components of everything. -Fire is hot and dry, air hot and moist, water moist and cold, -earth cold and dry. This reflection shows us why Aristotle -held that the most rudimentary form in which "matter" ever -actually exists is that of one of these "elements." Each of -them has </span><em class="italics">one</em><span> quality in common with another, and it is in -virtue of this that a portion of one element can be assimilated -by and transmuted into another, a process which seems to the -untutored eye to be constantly recurring in Nature. We also -observe that the order in which the "elements" appear, when -so arranged as to form a series in which each term has one -quality in common with each of its neighbours, is also that of -their increasing density. This would help to make the -conception of their transmutability all the more natural, as it -suggests that the process may be effected by steady condensation. -We must remember carefully that for Aristotle, who denies the -possibility of a vacuum, as for the mediæval alchemists, -condensation does not mean a mere diminution of the distances -between corpuscles which remain unchanged in character, but is -a process of real qualitative change in the body which undergoes -it. Incidentally we may remark that </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> changes of quality -are regarded by Aristotle as stages in a continuous "movement" -from one extreme of a scale to another. For example, colours, -with him as with Goethe, form a series of which the "opposites" -white and black are the end-points. Every other colour is a -combination of white and black according to a definite proportion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Aristotelian doctrine of weight was one of the chief -obstacles which seventeenth-century science had to contend -with in establishing correct notions in dynamics. It is a -curious feature of Greek science before Aristotle that, though -the facts connected with gravity were well known, no one -introduced the notion of weight to account for them. The difference -between heavy bodies and light bodies had been previously -treated as secondary for science. Plato's treatment of the -matter is typical of the best fourth-century science. We must -not try to explain why the heavier bodies tend to move towards -the earth's surface by saying that they have a "downward" -motion; their motion is not downward but "towards the -centre" (the earth, though not fixed at the centre of the -universe, being nearer to it than the rest of the solar and -sidereal system). Plato then explains the tendency in virtue -of which the heavier bodies move towards the "centre" as an -attraction of like for like. The universal tendency is for smaller -masses of "earth," "water," "air," "fire" to be attracted -towards the great aggregations of the same materials. This -is far from being a satisfactory theory in the light of facts -which were not yet known to Plato, but it is on the right -lines. It starts from the conception of the facts of gravity as -due to an "attractive force" of some kind, and it has the -great merit of bringing the "sinking" of stones and the -"rising" of vapours under the same explanation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aristotle, though retaining the central idea that a body -tends to move towards the region where the great cosmic mass -of the same kind is congregated, introduced the entirely -incompatible notion of an absolute distinction of "up" and "down." He -identified the centre of the universe with that of the earth, -and looked on motion to this centre as "downward." This -led him to make a distinction between "heavy" bodies, which -naturally tend to move "down," and "light" bodies, which -tend to move "up" away from the centre. The doctrine -works out thus. The heaviest elements tend to be massed -together nearest the centre, the lightest to be furthest from it. -Each element thus has its "proper place," that of water being -immediately above earth, that of air next, and that of fire -furthest from the centre, and nearest to the regions occupied -by "celestial matter." (Readers of Dante will recollect the -ascent from the Earthly Paradise through the "sphere of fire" -with which the </span><em class="italics">Paradiso</em><span> opens.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In its own "proper region" no body is heavy or light; as -we should say any fluid loses its weight when immersed in -itself. When a portion of an element is out of its own region -and surrounded by the great cosmic aggregate of another -element, either of two cases may occur. The body which is -"out of its element" may be </span><em class="italics">below</em><span> its proper place, in which -case it is "light" and tends to move perpendicularly upwards -to its place, or it may be </span><em class="italics">above</em><span> its proper place, and then it -is "heavy" and tends to move perpendicularly "down" until -it reaches its place. It was this supposed real distinction -between motion "up" and motion "down" which made it so -hard for the contemporaries of Galileo to understand that an -inflated bladder rises for the same reason that a stone sinks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Biology</strong><span>.--Of Aristotle's biology reasons of space forbid us to -say much here. But a remark or two may be made about his -theory of reproduction, since it is constantly referred to in much -modern literature and has also played its part in theology. -An interesting point is the distinction between "perfect" and -"imperfect" animals. "Perfect" animals are those which -can only be reproduced sexually. Aristotle held, however, that -there are some creatures, even among vertebrates, which </span><em class="italics">may</em><span> -be produced by the vivifying effect of solar heat on decomposing -matter, without any parents at all. Thus malobservation -of the facts of putrefaction led to the belief that flies and -worms are engendered by heat from decaying bodies, and it -was even thought that frogs and mice are produced in the -same way from river-slime. In this process, the so-called -"aequivocal generation," solar heat was conceived as the -operative efficient cause which leads to the realisation of an -organic "form" in the decaying matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In sexual reproduction Aristotle regards the male parent -as the agent or efficient cause which contributes the element of -form and organisation to the offspring. The female parent -supplies only the raw material of the new creature, but she -supplies the whole of this. No </span><em class="italics">material</em><span> is supplied by the -male parent to the body of the offspring, a theory which -St. Thomas found useful in defending the dogma of the Virgin -Birth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Psychology</strong><span>.--Since the mind grows and develops, it comes -under the class of things which have a "source of motion -internal to themselves," and psychology is therefore, for -Aristotle, a branch of Physics. To understand his treatment -of psychological questions we need bear two things in mind. -(1) </span><em class="italics">Psyche</em><span> or "soul" means in Greek more than "consciousness" -does to us. Consciousness is a relatively late and highly -developed manifestation of the principle which the Greeks -call "soul." That principle shows itself not merely in -consciousness but in the whole process of nutrition and growth -and the adaptation of motor response to an external situation. -Thus consciousness is a more secondary feature of the "soul" -in Greek philosophy than in most modern thought, which has -never ceased to be affected by Descartes' selection of "thought" -as the special characteristic of psychical life. In common -language the word </span><em class="italics">psyche</em><span> is constantly used where we should -say "life" rather than "soul," and in Greek philosophy a -work "on the </span><em class="italics">Psyche</em><span>" means what we should call one on "the -principle of life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(2) It is a consequence of this way of thinking of the -"soul" that the process of bodily and mental development is -regarded by Aristotle as one single continuous process. The -growth of a man's intellect and character by which he becomes -a thinker and a citizen is a continuation of the process by which -his body is conceived and born and passes into physical -manhood. This comes out in the words of the definition of the -soul. "The soul is the first entelechy (or actual realisation) of -a natural organic body." What this means is that the soul stands -to the living body as all form realised in matter does to the -matter of which it is the form, or that the soul is the "form" -of the body. What the "organic body" is to the embryo out -of which it has grown, that soul is to the body itself. As the -embryo grows into the actual living body, so the living body -grows into a body exhibiting the actual directing presence of -mind. Aristotle illustrates the relation by the remark that if -the whole body was one vast eye, seeing would be its soul. As -the eye is a tool for seeing with, but a living tool which is -part of ourselves, so the body is a like tool or instrument for -living with. Hence we may say of the soul that it is the -"end" of the body, the activity to which the body is -instrumental, as seeing is the "end" to which the eye is -instrumental. But we must note that the soul is called only the -"first" or initial "entelechy" of the body. The reason is -that the mere presence of the soul does not guarantee the full -living of the life to which our body is but the instrument. If -we are to </span><em class="italics">live</em><span> in the fullest sense of the word, we must not -merely "have" a soul; we "have" it even in sleep, in ignorance, -in folly. The soul itself needs further to be educated -and trained in intelligence and character, and to exercise its -intelligence and character efficiently on the problems of thought -and life. The mere "presence" of soul is only a first step in -the progress towards fullness of life. This is why Aristotle -calls the soul the </span><em class="italics">first</em><span> entelechy of the living body. The full -and final entelechy is the life of intelligence and character -actively functioning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From this conception of the soul's relation to the body we -see that Aristotle's "doctrine of body and mind" does not -readily fall into line with any of the typical theories of our -time. He neither thinks of the soul as a thing acting on the -body and acted on by it, nor yet as a series of "states of mind" -concomitant with certain "states of body." From his point of -view to ask whether soul and body interact, or whether they -exhibit "parallelism," would be much the same thing as to -ask whether life interacts with the body, or whether there -is a "parallelism" between vital processes and bodily -processes. We must not ask at all how the body and soul are -united. They are one thing, as the matter and the form of a -copper globe are one. Thus they are in actual fact inseparable. -The soul is the soul of its body and the body the body of its soul. -We can only distinguish them by logical analysis, as we can -distinguish the copper from the sphericity in the copper globe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Grades of Psychical Life</strong><span>.--If we consider the order of development, -we find that some vital activities make their appearance -earlier than others, and that it is a universal law that the -more highly developed activities always have the less highly -developed as their basis and precondition, though the less -highly developed may exist apart from the more highly -developed. So we may arrange vital activities in general in an -ontogenetic order, the order in which they make their appearance -in the individual's development. Aristotle reckons three -such stages, the "nutritive," the "sensitive," and the -"intelligent." The lowest form in which life shows itself at all, -the level of minimum distinction between the living and the -lifeless, is the power to take in nutriment, assimilate it, and -grow. In vegetables the development is arrested at this point. -With the animals we reach the next highest level, that of -"sensitive" life. For all animals have at least the sense of -touch. Thus they all show sense-perception, and it is a -consequence of this that they exhibit "appetition," the simplest -form of conation, and the rudiments of feeling and "temper." For -what has sensations can also feel pleasure and pain, and -what can feel pleasure and pain can desire, since desire is only -appetition of what is pleasant. Thus in the animals we have -the beginnings of cognition, conation, and affective and -emotional life in general. And Aristotle adds that locomotion -makes its appearance at this level; animals do not, like plants, -have to trust to their supply of nutriment coming to them; -they can go to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The third level, that of "intelligence," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> the power to -compare, calculate, and reflect, and to order one's life by -conscious rule, is exhibited by man. What distinguishes life at -this level from mere "sensitive" life is, on the intellectual side, -the ability to cognise universal truths, on the conative, the -power to live by rule instead of being swayed by momentary -"appetition." The former gives us the possibility of science, -the latter of moral excellence.[#]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span class="small">[#] </span><em class="italics small">Cf.</em><span class="small"> Dante's "Fatti non foste a viver como bruti,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span class="small">Ma per seguir virtute e conosoenza."</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">Sensation</strong><span>.--Life manifests itself at the animal level on the -cognitive side as sense-perception, on the conative as appetition -or desire, on the affective as feeling of pleasure or pain, and in -such simple emotional moods as "temper," resentment, longing. -Aristotle gives sensation a logical priority over the conative -and emotional expression of "animal" life. To experience -appetition or anger or desire you must have an object which -you crave for or desire or are angry with, and it is only when -you have reached the level of presentations through the senses -that you can be said to have an object. Appetition or -"temper" is as real a fact as perception, but you cannot crave -for or feel angry with a thing you do not apprehend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aristotle's definition of sense perception is that it is a "capacity -for discerning" or distinguishing between "the sensible qualities -of things." His conception of the process by which the -discernment or distinguishing is effected is not altogether happy. -In sense-perception the soul "takes into itself the </span><em class="italics">form</em><span> of the -thing perceived without its </span><em class="italics">matter</em><span>, as sealing-wax receives the -shape of an iron seal-ring without the iron." To understand -this, we have to remember that for Aristotle the sensible -qualities of the external world, colour, tones, tastes, and the -rest, are not effects of mechanical stimulation of our -sense-organs, but real qualities of bodies. The hardness of iron, the -redness of a piece of red wax are all primarily "in" the iron -or the wax. They are "forms," or determinations by definite -law, of the "matter" of the iron or the wax. This will become -clearer if we consider a definite example, the red colour of the -wax. In the wax the red colour is a definite combination of -the colour-opposites white and black according to a fixed ratio. -Now Aristotle's view of the process of sense-perception is that -when I become aware of the red colour the same proportion of -white to black which makes the wax red is reproduced in my -organ of vision; my eye, while I am seeing the red, "assimilated" -to the wax, is itself for the time actually "reddened." But -it does not become wax because the red thing I am looking -at is a piece of red wax. The eye remains a thing composed -of living tissues. This is what is meant by saying that in -seeing the colours of things the eye receives "forms" without -the "matter" of the things in which those forms are exhibited. -Thus the process of sense-perception is one in which the organ -of sense is temporarily assimilated to the thing apprehended in -respect of the particular quality cognised by that organ, but in -respect of no other. According to Aristotle this process of -"assimilation" always requires the presence of a "medium." If -an object is in immediate contact with the eye we cannot -see its colour; if it is too near the ear, we do not discern the -note it gives out. Even in the case of touch and taste there -is no immediate contact between the object perceived and the -true organ of perception. For in touch the "flesh" is not the -organ of apprehension but an integument surrounding it and -capable of acting as an intermediary between it and things. -Thus perception is always accomplished by a "motion" set up -in the "medium" by the external object, and by the medium -in our sense-organs. Aristotle thus contrives to bring correct -apprehension by sense of the qualities of things under the -formula of the "right mean" or "right proportion," which is -better known from the use made of it in the philosopher's theory -of conduct. The colour of a surface, the pitch of the note given -out by a vibrating string, &c., depend on, and vary with, -certain forms or ratios "in" the surface or the vibrating string; -our correct apprehension of the qualities depends on the -reproduction of the </span><em class="italics">same</em><span> ratios in our sense-organs, the -establishment of the "right proportion" in </span><em class="italics">us</em><span>. That this "right -proportion" may be reproduced in our own sense-organs it is -necessary (1) that the medium should have none of the sensible -qualities for the apprehension whereof it serves as medium, -</span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> the medium in colour-perception must be colourless. If -it had a colour of its own, the "motion" set up by the coloured -bodies we apprehend would not be transmitted undistorted to -our organs; we should see everything through a coloured haze. -It is necessary for the same reason (2) that the percipient -organ itself, when in a state of quiescence, should possess none -of the qualities which can be induced in it by stimulation. -The upshot of the whole theory is that the sense-organ is -"potentially" what the sense-quality it apprehends is actually. -Actual perceiving is just that special transition from the -potential to the actual which results in making the organ for -the time being </span><em class="italics">actually</em><span> of the same quality as the object.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Common Sensibles and the Common Sense-organ</strong><span>.--Every -sense has a range of qualities connected with it as its -special objects. Colours can only be perceived by the eye, -sounds by the ear, and so forth. But there are certain -characters of perceived things which we appear to apprehend -by more than one sense. Thus we seem to perceive size and -shape either by touch or by sight, and number by hearing as -well, since we can count </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> the strokes of an unseen bell. -Hence Aristotle distinguishes between the "special sensible -qualities" such as colour and pitch, and what he calls the -"common sensibles," the character of things which can be -perceived by more than one organ. These are enumerated as size, -form or shape, number, motion (and its opposite rest), being. -(The addition of this last is, of course, meant to account for -our conviction that any perceived colour, taste, or other quality -is a reality and not a delusion.) The list corresponds very -closely with one given by Plato of the "things which the mind -perceives </span><em class="italics">by herself without the help of any organ</em><span>," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> of the -leading determinations of sensible things which are due not to -sense but to understanding. It was an unfortunate innovation -to regard the discernment of number or movement, which -obviously demand intellectual processes such as counting and -comparison, as performed immediately by "sense," and to -assign the apprehension of number, movement, figure to a -central "organ." This organ he finds in the heart. The -theory is that when the "special organs" of the senses are -stimulated, they in turn communicate movements to the blood -and "animal spirits" (</span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> the vapours supposed to be produced -from the blood by animal heat). These movements are propagated -inwards to the heart, where they all meet. This is supposed to -account for the important fact that, though our sensations are so -many and diverse, we are conscious of our own unity as the -subjects apprehending all this variety. The unity of the -perceiving subject is thus made to depend on the unity of the -ultimate "organ of sensation," the heart. Further, when once -a type of motion has been set up in any sense-organ at the -periphery of the body it will be propagated inward to the -"common sensorium" in the heart. The motions set up by stimulation, -</span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> of the eye and of the skin, are partly different, partly the same -(viz. in so far as they are determined by the number, shape, -size, movement of the external stimuli). Hence in the heart -itself the stimulation on which perception of number or size -depends is one and the same whether it has been transmitted -from the eye or from the skin! Awareness of lapse of time is -also regarded as a function of the "common sense-organ," since -it is the "common sensory" which perceives motion, and lapse -of time is apprehended only in the apprehension of motion. -Thus, in respect of the inclusion of geometrical form and lapse -of time among the "common sensibles," there is a certain -resemblance between Aristotle's doctrine and Kant's theory -that recognition of spatial and temporal order is a function not -of understanding but of "pure" sense. It is further held that -to be aware that one is perceiving (self-consciousness) and to -discriminate between the different classes of "special" -sense-perception must also be functions of the "common sense-organ." Thus -Aristotle makes the mistake of treating the most fundamental -acts of intelligent reflection as precisely on a par, from -the point of view of the theory of knowledge, with awareness -of colour or sound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A more legitimate function assigned to the "common -sensorium" in the heart is that "fantasy," the formation of -mental imagery, depends on its activity. The simplest kind of -"image," the pure memory-image left behind after the object -directly arousing perception has ceased to stimulate, is due to -the persistence of the movements set up in the heart after the -sensory process in the peripheral organ is over. Since Aristotle -denies the possibility of thinking without the aid of -memory-images, this function of the "common sensorium" is the -indispensable basis of mental recall, anticipation, and thought. -Neither "experience," </span><em class="italics">i.e.</em><span> a general conviction which results -from the frequent repetition of similar perceptions, nor thought -can arise in any animal in which sense-stimulation does not -leave such "traces" behind it. Similarly "free imagery," the -existence of trains of imagination not tied down to the reproduction -of an actual order of sensations, is accounted for by the -consideration that "chance coincidence" may lead to the -stimulation of the heart in the same way in which it might have been -stimulated by actual sensation-processes. Sleeping and waking -and the experiences of dream-life are likewise due to changes -in the functioning of the "common sense-organ," brought about -partly by fatigue in the superficial sense-organs, partly by -qualitative changes in the blood and "animal spirits" caused -by the processes of nutrition and digestion. Probably Aristotle's -best scientific work in psychology is contained in the series of -small essays in which this theory of memory and its imagery -is worked out. (Aristotle's language about the "common -sensibles" is, of course, the source of our expression "common -sense," which, however, has an entirely different meaning. The -shifting of sense has apparently been effected through Cicero's -employment of the phrase </span><em class="italics">sensus communis</em><span> to mean tactful -sympathy, the feeling of fellowship with our kind on which the -Stoic philosophers laid so much stress.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">Thought</strong><span>.--Though thinking is impossible except by the -use of imagery, to think is not merely to possess trains of -imagery, or even to be aware of possessing them. Thinking -means understanding the meaning of such mental imagery and -arriving through the understanding at knowledge of the structure -of the real world. How this process of interpreting mental -imagery and reaching valid truth is achieved with greater and -greater success until it culminates in the apprehension of the -supreme principles of philosophy we have seen in dealing with -the Aristotelian theory of knowledge. From the point of view -of the "physicist" who is concerned with thinking simply as a -type of natural process, the relation of "understanding" to the -mental imagery just described is analogous to that of sensation -to sensible qualities. The objects which thinking apprehends -are the universal types of relation by which the world of things -is pervaded. The process of thinking is one in which this -system of universal relations is reproduced "by way of idea" in -the mind of the thinker. The "understanding" thus stands -to its objects as matter to form. The process of getting -actually to understand the world is one in which our "thought" -or "understanding" steadily receives completer determination -and "form" from its contemplation of reality. In this sense, -the process is one in which the understanding may be said to -be passive in knowledge. It is passive because it is the subject -which, at every fresh stage in the progress to knowledge, is -being quite literally "informed" by the action of the real world -through the sensation and imagery. Hence Aristotle says that, -in order that the understanding may be correctly "informed" -by its contact with its objects, it must, before the process -begins, have no determinate character of its own. It must be -simply a capacity for apprehending the types of interconnection. -"What is called the intelligence--I mean that with which the -soul thinks and understands--is not an actual thing until it -thinks." (This is meant to exclude any doctrine which credits -the "understanding" with either </span><em class="italics">furniture</em><span> of its own such as -"innate ideas," or a specific </span><em class="italics">structure</em><span> of its own. If the -results of our thinking arose partly from the structure of the -world of objects and partly from inherent laws of the "structure -of mind," our thought at its best would not reproduce the -universal "forms" or "types" of interconnection as they really -are, but would distort them, as the shapes of things are -distorted when we see them through a lens of high refractive -index.) Thus, though Aristotle differs from the modern -empiricists in holding that "universals" realty exist "in" things, -and are the links of connection between them, he agrees with -the empiricist that knowledge is not the resultant of a -combination of "facts" on the one side and "fundamental laws of the -mind's working" on the other. At the outset the "understanding" -has no structure; it develops a structure for itself in -the same process, and to the same degree, in which it -apprehends the "facts." Hence the "understanding" only is real -in the actual process of understanding its objects, and again in -a sense the understanding and the things it understands are -one. Only we must qualify this last statement by saying that -it is only "potentially" that the understanding is the forms -which it apprehends. Aristotle does not mean by this that such -things as horses and oxen are thoughts or "ideas." By the -things with which "understanding" is said to be one he means -the "forms" which we apprehend when we actually understand -the world or any part of it, the truths of science. His point -then is that the actual thinking of these truths and the truths -themselves do not exist apart from one another. "Science" -does not mean certain things written down in a book; it means -a mind engaged in thinking and knowing things, and of the -mind itself, considered out of its relation to the actual life of -thinking the truths of science, we can say no more than that it -is a name for the fact that we are capable of achieving such -thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">The Active Intelligence</strong><span>.--So far Aristotle's account -of thought has been plain sailing. Thought has been -considered as the final and highest development of the vital -functions of the organism, and hence as something inseparable -from the lower functions of nutrition and sensitive life. -The existence of a thought which is not a function of a living -body, and which is not "passive," has been absolutely excluded. -But at this point we are suddenly met by the most startling -of all the inconsistencies between the naturalistic and the -"spiritualist" strains in Aristotle's philosophy. In a few -broken lines he tells us that there is another sense of the word -"thought" in which "thought" actually creates the truths it -understands, just as light may be said to make the colours -which we see by its aid. "And </span><em class="italics">this</em><span> intelligence," he adds, -"is separable from matter, and impassive and unmixed, being -in its essential nature an </span><em class="italics">activity</em><span>.... It has no intermission in -its thinking. It is only in separation from matter that it is -fully itself, and it alone is immortal and everlasting ... while -the passive intelligence is perishable and does not think at all, -apart from this." The meaning of this is not made clear by -Aristotle himself, and the interpretation was disputed even -among the philosopher's personal disciples.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One important attempt to clear up the difficulty is that -made by Alexander of Aphrodisias, the greatest of the -commentators on Aristotle, in the second century A.D. Alexander -said, as Aristotle has not done, that the "active intelligence" -is numerically the same in all men, and is identical with God. -Thus, all that is specifically human in each of us is the -"passive intelligence" or capacity for being enlightened by -God's activity upon us. The advantage of the view is, that -it removes the "active intelligence" altogether from the -purview of psychology, which then becomes a purely naturalistic -science. The great Arabian Aristotelian, Averroes (Ibn -Roschd) of Cordova, in the twelfth century, went still further -in the direction of naturalism. Since the "active" and -"passive" intelligence can only be separated by a logical -abstraction, he inferred that men, speaking strictly, do not -think at all; there is only one and the same individual -intelligence in the universe, and all that we call our thinking is -really not ours but God's. The great Christian scholastics -of the following century in general read Aristotle through -the eyes of Averroes, "</span><em class="italics">the</em><span> Commentator," as St. Thomas calls -him, "Averrois che il gran commento feo," as Dante says. -But their theology compelled them to disavow his doctrine -of the "active intelligence," against which they could also -bring, as St. Thomas does, the telling argument that Aristotle -could never have meant to say that there really is no such -thing as human intelligence. Hence arose a third interpretation, -the Thomist, according to which the "active intelligence" -is neither God nor the same for all men, but is the highest and -most rational "part" of the individual human soul, which -has no bodily "organ."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="practical-philosophy"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hitherto we have been concerned with the speculative -branches of knowledge, we have now to turn to practice. -Practice, too, is an activity of thought, but an activity which -is never satisfied by the process of thinking itself. In -practice our thinking is always directed towards the production of -some result other than true thought itself. As in engineering -it is not enough to find a solution of the problem how to -build a bridge over a given river capable of sustaining a given -strain, so in directing our thought on the problems of human -conduct and the organisation of society we aim at something -more than the understanding of human life. In the one case -what we aim at is the construction of the bridge; in the other -it is the production of goodness in ourselves and our -fellow-men, and the establishment of right social relations in the -state. Aristotle is careful to insist on this point throughout -his whole treatment of moral and social problems. The principal -object of his lectures on conduct is not to tell his hearers -what goodness is, but to make them good, and similarly it is -quite plain that </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> was intended as a text-book for -legislators. In close connection with this practical object stands -his theory of the kind of truth which must be looked for -in ethics and politics. He warns us against expecting precepts -which have the exact and universal rigidity of the truths of -speculative science. Practical science has to do with the -affairs of men's lives, matters which are highly complex and -variable, in a word, with "what may be otherwise." Hence -we must be content if we can lay down precepts which hold -good in the main, just as in medicine we do not expect to find -directions which will effect a cure in all cases, but are content -with general directions which require to be adapted to special -cases by the experience and judgment of the practitioner. The -object of practical science then is to formulate rules which will -guide us in obtaining our various ends. Now when we -consider these ends we see at once that some are subordinate -to others. The manufacture of small-arms may be the end -at which their maker aims, but it is to the military man -a mere means to </span><em class="italics">his</em><span> end, which is the effective use of them. -Successful use of arms is again the end of the professional soldier, -but it is a mere means among others to the statesman. -Further, it is the military men who use the arms from whom the -manufacturer has to take his directions as to the kind of arms -that are wanted, and again it is the statesman to whom the -professional soldiers have to look for directions as to when -and with what general objects in view they shall fight. So -the art which uses the things produced by another art is the -superior and directing art; the art which makes the things, -the inferior and subordinate art. Hence the supreme practical -art is politics, since it is the art which uses the products -turned out by all other arts as means to its ends. It is the -business of politics, the art of the statesman, to prescribe to -the practitioners of all other arts and professions the lines -on which and the conditions under which they shall exercise -their vocation with a view to securing the supreme practical -end, the well-being of the community. Among the other -professions and arts which make the materials the statesman -employs, the profession of the educator stands foremost. The -statesman is bound to demand certain qualities of mind and -character in the individual citizens. The production of these -mental and moral qualities must therefore be the work of the -educator. It thus becomes an important branch of politics -to specify the kind of mental and moral qualities which a -statesman should require the educator to produce in his -pupils.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is this branch of politics which Aristotle discusses in his -</span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span>. He never contemplates a study of the individual's -good apart from politics, the study of the good of the society. -What then is the good or the best kind of life for an individual -member of society? Aristotle answers that as far as the mere -name is concerned, there is a general agreement to call the best -life, </span><em class="italics">Eudaimonia</em><span>, Happiness. But the real problem is one of -fact. What kind of life deserves to be called happiness? -Plato had laid it down that the happy life must satisfy three -conditions. It must be desirable for its own sake, it must be -sufficient of itself to satisfy us, and it must be the life a wise -man would prefer to any other. The question is, What general -formula can we find which will define the life which satisfies -these conditions? To find the answer we have to consider what -Plato and Aristotle call the work or function of man. By the -work of anything we mean what can only be done by it, or by -it better than by anything else. Thus the work of the eye is -to see. You cannot see with any other organ, and when the -eye does this work of seeing well you say it is a good eye. So -we may say of any living being that its work is to live, and -that it is a good being when it does this work of living efficiently. -To do its own work efficiently is the excellence or virtue of the -thing. The excellence or virtue of a man will thus be to live -efficiently, but since life can be manifested at different levels, -if we would know what man's work is we must ask whether -there is not some form of life which can </span><em class="italics">only</em><span> be lived by man. -Now the life which consists in merely feeding and growing -belongs to all organisms and can be lived with equal vigour by -them all. There is, however, a kind of life which can only be -lived by man, the life which consists in conscious direction of -one's actions by a rule. It is the work of man to live this -kind of life, and his happiness consists in living it efficiently -and well. So we may give as the definition of human well-being -that it is "an active life in accord with excellence, or if -there are more forms of excellence than one, in accord with the -best and completest of them"; and we must add "in a -complete life" to show that mere promise not crowned by -performance does not suffice to entitle man's life to be called -happy. We can see that this definition satisfies Plato's three -conditions. A vigorous and active living in a way which calls -into play the specifically human capacities of man is desirable -for its own sake, and preferable to any other life which could be -proposed to us. It too is the only life which can permanently -satisfy men, but we must add that if such a life is to be lived -adequately certain advantages of fortune must be presupposed. -We cannot fully live a life of this kind if we are prevented -from exercising our capacities by lack of means or health or -friends and associates, and even the calamities which arise in -the course of events may be so crushing as to hinder a man, -for a time, from putting forth his full powers. These external -good things are not constituents of happiness, but merely -necessary conditions of that exercise of our own capacities which is -the happy life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In our definition of the happy life we said that it was one -of activity in accord with goodness or excellence, and we left -it an open question whether there are more kinds of such -goodness than one. On consideration we see that two kinds of -goodness or excellence are required in living the happy life. -The happy life for man is a life of conscious following of a -rule. To live it well, then, you need to know what the right -rule to follow is, and you need also to follow it. There are -persons who deliberately follow a wrong rule of life--the -wicked. There are others who know what the right rule is -but fail to follow it because their tempers and appetites are -unruly--the morally weak. To live the happy life, then, two -sorts of goodness are required. You must have a good judgment -as to what the right rule is (or if you cannot find it out -for yourself, you must at least be able to recognise it when it -is laid down by some one else, the teacher or lawgiver), and -you must have your appetites, feelings, and emotions generally -so trained that they obey the rule. Hence excellence, goodness, -or virtue is divided into goodness of intellect and goodness of -character (moral goodness), the word </span><em class="italics">character</em><span> being used for -the complex of tempers, feelings, and the affective side of -human nature generally. In education goodness of character -has to be produced by training and discipline before goodness -of intellect can be imparted. The young generally have to be -trained to obey the right rule before they can see for themselves -that it is the right rule, and if a man's tempers and passions -are not first schooled into actual obedience to the rule he will -in most cases never see that it is the right rule at all. Hence -Aristotle next goes on to discuss the general character of the -kind of goodness he calls goodness of character, the right state -of the feelings and passions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first step towards understanding what goodness of -character is is to consider the way in which it is actually -produced. We are not born with this goodness of tempers and -feelings ready made, nor yet do we obtain it by theoretical -instruction; it is a result of a training and discipline of the -feelings and impulses. The possibility of such a training is -due to the fact that feelings and impulses are rational capacities, -and a rational capacity can be developed into either of two -contrasted activities according to the training it receives. You -cannot train stones to fall upwards, but you can train a hot -temper to display itself either in the form of righteous -resentment of wrong-doing or in that of violent defiance of all -authority. Our natural emotions and impulses are in themselves -neither good nor bad; they are the raw material out of which -training makes good or bad character according to the direction -it gives to them. The effect of training is to convert the -indeterminate tendency into a fixed habit. We may say, then, -that moral goodness is a fixed state of the soul produced by -habituation. By being trained in habits of endurance, -self-mastery, and fair dealing, we acquire the kind of character to -which it is pleasing to act bravely, continently, and fairly, and -disagreeable to act unfairly, profligately, or like a coward. -When habituation has brought about this result the moral -excellences in question have become part of our inmost self and -we are in full possession of goodness of character. In a word, -it is by repeated doing of right acts that we acquire the right -kind of character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what general characteristics distinguish right acts and -right habits from wrong ones? Aristotle is guided in answering -the question by an analogy which is really at the bottom -of all Greek thinking on morality. The thought is that goodness -is in the soul what health and fitness are in the body, and -that the preceptor is for the soul what the physician or the -trainer is for the body. Now it was a well-known medical -theory, favoured by both Plato and Aristotle, that health in -the body means a condition of balance or equilibration among -the elements of which it is composed. When the hot and the -cold, the moist and the dry in the composition of the human -frame exactly balance one another, the body is in perfect -health. Hence the object of the regimen of the physician or -the trainer is to produce and maintain a proper balance or -proportion between the ingredients of the body. Any course -which disturbs this balance is injurious to health and strength. -You damage your health if you take too much food or exercise, -and also if you take too little. The same thing is true of -health in the soul. Our soul's health may be injured by -allowing too much or too little play to any of our natural -impulses or feelings. We may lay it down, then, that the kind -of training which gives rise to a good habit is training in the -avoidance of the opposite errors of the too much and the too -little. And since the effect of training is to produce habits -which issue in the spontaneous performance of the same kind -of acts by which the habits were acquired, we may say not -merely that goodness of character is produced by acts which -exhibit a proper balance or mean, but that it is a settled habit -of acting so as to exhibit the same balance or proportion. -Hence the formal definition of goodness of character is that it -is "a settled condition of the soul which wills or chooses the -mean relatively to ourselves, this mean being determined by a -rule or whatever we like to call that by which the wise man -determines it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There are several points in this definition of the mean upon -which moral virtue depends of which we must take note unless -we are to misunderstand Aristotle seriously. To begin with, -the definition expressly says that "moral goodness is a state -of will or choice." Thus it is not enough that one should -follow the rule of the mean outwardly in one's actions; one's -personal will must be regulated by it. Goodness of character -is inward; it is not merely outward. Next we must not -suppose that Aristotle means that the "just enough" is the same -for all our feelings, that every impulse has a moral right to -the same authority in shaping our conduct as any other. How -much or how little is the just enough in connection with a -given spring of action is one of the things which the wise man's -rule has to determine, just as the wise physician's rule may -determine that a very little quantity is the just enough in the -case of some articles of diet or curative drugs, while in the case -of others the just enough may be a considerable amount. Also -the right mean is not the same for every one. What we have -to attain is the mean relatively to </span><em class="italics">ourselves</em><span>, and this will be -different for persons of different constitutions and in different -conditions. It is this relativity of the just enough to the -individual's personality and circumstances which makes it -impossible to lay down precise rules of conduct applicable alike -to everybody, and renders the practical attainment of goodness -so hard. It is my duty to spend some part of my income in -buying books on philosophy, but no general rule will tell me -what percentage of my income is the right amount for me to -spend in this way. That depends on a host of considerations, -such as the excess of my income above my necessary expenses -and the like. Or again, the just enough may vary with the -same man according to the circumstances of the particular case. -No rule of thumb application of a formula will decide such -problems. Hence Aristotle insists that the right mean in the -individual case has always to be determined by immediate -insight. This is precisely why goodness of intellect needs to be -added to goodness of character. His meaning is well brought -out by an illustration which I borrow from Professor Burnet. -"On a given occasion there will be a temperature which is -just right for my morning bath. If the bath is hotter than -this, it will be too hot; if it is colder, it will be too cold. But -as this just right temperature varies with the condition of my -body, it cannot be ascertained by simply using a thermometer. -If I am in good general health I shall, however, know by the -feel of the water when the temperature is right. So if I am in -good moral health I shall know, without appealing to a formal -code of maxims, what is the right degree, </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> of indignation to -show in a given case, how it should be shown and towards -whom." Thus we see why Aristotle demands goodness of -character as a preliminary condition of goodness of intellect or -judgment in moral matters. Finally, if we ask by </span><em class="italics">what</em><span> rule -the mean is determined, the answer will be that the rule is the -judgment of the legislator who determines what is the right -mean by his knowledge of the conditions on which the -well-being of the community depends. He then embodies his -insight in the laws which he makes and the regulations he -imposes on the educators of youth. The final aim of education -in goodness is to make our immediate judgment as to what is -right coincide with the spirit of a wise legislation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The introduction of the reference to will or choice into the -definition of goodness of character leads Aristotle to consider -the relation of will to conduct. His main object is to escape -the paradoxical doctrine which superficial students might -derive from the works of Plato, that wrong-doing is always -well-meaning ignorance. Aristotle's point is that it is the -condition of will revealed by men's acts which is the real -object of our approval or blame. This is because in voluntary -action the man himself is the efficient cause of his act. Hence -the law recognises only two grounds on which a man may -plead, that he is not answerable for what he does. (1) Actual -physical compulsion by </span><em class="italics">force majeure</em><span>. (2) Ignorance, not due -to the man's own previous negligence, of some circumstances -material to the issue. When either of these pleas can be -made with truth the man does not really contribute by his -choice to the resulting act, and therefore is not really its cause. -But a plea of ignorance of the general laws of morality does -not excuse. I cannot escape responsibility for a murder by -pleading that I did not know that murder is wrong. Such a -plea does not exempt me from having been the cause of the -murder; it only shows that my moral principles are depraved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More precisely will is a process which has both an intellectual -and an appetitive element. The appetitive element is -our wish for some result. The intellectual factor is the -calculation of the steps by which that result may be obtained. -When we wish for the result we begin to consider how it -might be brought about, and we continue our analysis until -we find that the chain of conditions requisite may be started -by the performance of some act now in our power to do. Will -may thus be defined as the deliberate appetition of something -within our power, and the very definition shows that our -choice is an efficient cause of the acts we choose to do. This -is why we rightly regard men as responsible or answerable for -their acts of choice, good and bad alike.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the analysis of goodness of character, we proceed to -that of goodness of intellect. The important point is to -decide which of all the forms of goodness of intellect is that -which must be combined with goodness of character to make a -man fit to be a citizen of the state. It must be a kind of -intellectual excellence which makes a man see what the right -rule by which the mean is determined is. Now when we come -to consider the different excellences of intellect we find that -they all fall under one of two heads, theoretical or speculative -wisdom and practical wisdom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Theoretical wisdom is contained in the sciences which give -us universal truths about the fixed and unalterable relations -of the things in the universe, or, as we should say, which teach -us the laws of Nature. Its method is syllogism, the function -of which is to make us see how the more complex truths are -implied in simpler principles. Practical wisdom is intelligence -as employed in controlling and directing human life to the -production of the happy life for a community, and it is this -form of intellectual excellence which we require of the -statesman. It is required of him not only that he should know in -general what things are good for man, but also that he should -be able to judge correctly that in given circumstances such and -such an act is the one which will secure the good. He must -not only know the right rule itself, which corresponds to the -major premiss of syllogism in theoretical science, but he must -understand the character of particular acts so as to see that -they fall under the right rule. Thus the method of practical -wisdom will be analogous to that of theoretical wisdom. In -both cases what we have to do is to see that certain special -facts are cases of a general law or rule. Hence Aristotle calls -the method of practical wisdom the practical syllogism or -syllogism of action, since its peculiarity is that what issues -from the putting together of the premisses is not an assertion -but the performance of an act. In the syllogism of action, the -conclusion, that is to say, the performance of a given act, just -as in the syllogism of theory, is connected with the rule given -in the major premiss by a statement of fact; thus </span><em class="italics">e.g.</em><span> the -performance of a specific act such as the writing of this book -is connected with the general rule what helps to spread -knowledge ought to be done by the conviction that the writing -of this book helps to spread knowledge. Our perception of -such a fact is like a sense-perception in its directness and -immediacy. We see therefore that the kind of intellectual -excellence which the statesman must possess embraces at once -a right conception of the general character of the life which is -best for man, because it calls into play his specific capacities -as a human being, and also a sound judgment in virtue of which -he sees correctly that particular acts are expressions of this -good for man. This, then, is what we mean by practical -wisdom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So far, then, it would seem that the best life for man is just -the life of co-operation in the life of the state, which man, -being the only political animal or animal capable of life in a -state, has as his peculiar work, and as if the end of all moral -education should be to make us good and efficient citizens. -But in the </span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span>, as elsewhere, the end of Aristotle's -argument has a way of forgetting the beginning. We find that -there is after all a still higher life open to man than that of -public affairs. Affairs and business of all kinds are only -undertaken as means to getting leisure, just as civilised men -go to war, not for the love of war itself, but to secure peace. -The highest aim of life, then, is not the carrying on of political -business for its own sake, but the worthy and noble employment -of leisure, the periods in which we are our own masters. -It has the advantage that it depends more purely on ourselves -and our own internal resources than any other life of which -we know, for it needs very little equipment with external goods -as compared with any form of the life of action. It calls into -play the very highest of our own capacities as intelligent -beings, and for that very reason the active living of it is -attended with the purest of all pleasures. In it, moreover, we -enter at intervals and for a little while, so far as the conditions -of our mundane existence allow, into the life which God enjoys -through an unbroken eternity. Thus we reach the curious -paradox that while the life of contemplation is said to be that -of our truest self, it is also maintained that this highest and -happiest life is one which we live, not in respect of being -human, but in respect of having a divine something in us. -When we ask what this life of contemplation includes, we see -from references in the </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> that it includes the genuinely -æsthetic appreciation of good literature and music and pictorial -and plastic art, but there can be no doubt that what bulks -most largely in Aristotle's mind is the active pursuit of science -for its own sake, particularly of such studies as First Philosophy -and Physics, which deal with the fundamental structure of -the universe. Aristotle thus definitely ends by placing the life -of the scholar and the student on the very summit of felicity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is from this doctrine that mediæval Christianity derives -its opposition between the </span><em class="italics">vita contemplativa</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">vita -activa</em><span> and its preference for the former, though in the -mediæval mind the contemplative life has come to mean -generally a kind of brooding over theological speculations and of -absorption in mystical ecstasy very foreign to the spirit of -Aristotle. The types by which the contrast of the two lives is -illustrated, Rachael and Leah, Mary and Martha, are familiar -to all readers of Christian literature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>+The Theory of the State+.--Man is by nature a political -animal, a being who can only develop his capacities by sharing -in the life of a community. Hence Aristotle definitely rejects -the view that the state or society is a mere creature of -convention or agreement, an institution made by compact between -individuals for certain special ends, not growing naturally out of -the universal demands and aspirations of humanity. Mankind, -he urges, have never existed at all as isolated individuals. Some -rudimentary form of social organisation is to be found wherever -men are to be found. The actual stages in the development of -social organisation have been three--the family, the village -community, the city state. In the very rudest forms of social -life known to us, the patriarchal family, not the individual, is -the social unit. Men lived at first in separate families under -the control of the head of the family. Now a family is made -up in its simplest form of at least three persons, a man, his wife, -and a servant or slave to do the hard work, though very poor -men often have to replace the servant by an ox as the drudge -of all work. Children when they come swell the number, and -thus we see the beginnings of complex social relations of -subordination in the family itself. It involves three such distinct -relations, that of husband and wife, that of parent and child, -that of master and man. The family passes into the village -community, partly by the tendency of several families of -common descent to remain together under the direction of the -oldest male member of the group, partly by the association of a -number of distinct families for purposes of mutual help and -protection against common dangers. Neither of these forms of -association, however, makes adequate provision for the most -permanent needs of human nature. Complete security for a -permanent supply of material necessaries and adequate -protection only come when a number of such scattered communities -pool their resources, and surround themselves with a city wall. -The city state, which has come into being in this way, proves -adequate to provide from its own internal resources for all the -spiritual as well as the material needs of its members. Hence -the independent city state does not grow as civilisation advances -into any higher form of organisation, as the family and village -grew into it. It is the end, the last word of social progress. -It is amazing to us that this piece of cheap conservatism should -have been uttered at the very time when the system of -independent city states had visibly broken down, and a former -pupil of Aristotle himself was founding a gigantic empire to -take their place as the vehicle of civilisation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The end for which the state exists is not merely its own -self-perpetuation. As we have seen, Aristotle assigns a higher -value to the life of the student than to the life of practical -affairs. Since it is only in the civilised state that the student -can pursue his vocation, the ultimate reason for which the state -exists is to educate its citizens in such a way as shall fit them -to make the noble use of leisure. In the end the state itself is -a means to the spiritual cultivation of its individual members. -This implies that the chosen few, who have a vocation to make -full use of the opportunities provided for leading this life of noble -leisure, are the real end for the sake of which society exists. -The other citizens who have no qualification for any life higher -than that of business and affairs are making the most of -themselves in devoting their lives to the conduct and maintenance -of the organisation whose full advantages they are unequal to -share in. It is from this point of view also that Aristotle treats -the social problem of the existence of a class whose whole life -is spent in doing the hard work of society, and thus setting the -citizen body free to make the best use it can of leisure. In the -conditions of life in the Greek world this class consisted mainly -of slaves, and thus the problem Aristotle has to face is the -moral justifiability of slavery. We must remember that he -knew slavery only in its comparatively humane Hellenic form. -The slaves of whom he speaks were household servants and -assistants in small businesses. He had not before his eyes the -system of enormous industries carried on by huge gangs of -slaves under conditions of revolting degradation which disgraced -the later Roman Republic and the early Roman Empire, or the -Southern States of North America. His problems are in all -essentials much the same as those which concern us to-day in -connection with the social position of the classes who do the -hard bodily work of the community.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Much consideration is given in the </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> to the classification -of the different types of constitution possible for the -city-state. The current view was that there are three main types -distinguished by the number of persons who form the sovereign -political authority, monarchy, in which sovereign power belongs -to a single person; oligarchy, in which it is in the hands of a -select few; democracy, in which it is enjoyed by the whole body -of the citizens. Aristotle observes, correctly, that the really -fundamental distinction between a Greek oligarchy and a -Greek democracy was that the former was government by the -propertied classes, the latter government by the masses. Hence -the watchword of democracy was always that all political -rights should belong equally to all citizens, that of oligarchy -that a man's political status should be graded according to his -"stake in the country." Both ideals are, according to him, -equally mistaken, since the real end of government, which both -overlook, is the promotion of the "good life." In a state -which recognises this ideal, an aristocracy or government by -the best, only the "best" men will possess the full rights of -citizenship, whether they are many or few. There might even -be a monarch at the head of such a state, if it happened to -contain some one man of outstanding intellectual and moral -worth. Such a state should be the very opposite of a great -imperial power. It should, that its cultivation may be the -more intensive, be as small as is compatible with complete -independence of outside communities for its material and -spiritual sustenance, and its territory should only be large -enough to provide its members with the permanent possibility -of ample leisure, so long as they are content with plain and -frugal living. Though it ought not, for military and other -reasons, to be cut off from communication with the sea, the -great military and commercial high road of the Greek world, it -ought not to be near enough to the coast to run any risk of -imperilling its moral cultivation by becoming a great emporium, -like the Athens of Pericles. In the organisation of the society -care should be taken to exclude the agricultural and industrial -population from full citizenship, which carries with it the -right to appoint and to be appointed as administrative -magistrates. This is because these classes, having no opportunity -for the worthy employment of leisure, cannot be trusted to -administer the state for the high ends which it is its true -function to further.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus Aristotle's political ideal is that of a small but leisured -and highly cultivated aristocracy, without large fortunes or any -remarkable differences in material wealth, free from the spirit -of adventure and enterprise, pursuing the arts and sciences -quietly while its material needs are supplied by the labour of -a class excluded from citizenship, kindly treated but without -prospects. Weimar, in the days when Thackeray knew it -as a lad, would apparently reproduce the ideal better than any -other modern state one can think of.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The object of the </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> is, however, not merely to discuss -the ideal state but to give practical advice to men who might -be looking forward to actual political life, and would therefore -largely have to be content with making the best of existing -institutions. In the absence of the ideal aristocracy, Aristotle's -preference is for what he calls Polity or constitutional -government, a sort of compromise between oligarchy and democracy. -Of course a practical statesman may have to work with a -theoretically undesirable constitution, such as an oligarchy or an -unqualified democracy. But it is only in an ideal constitution -that the education which makes its subject a good man, in the -philosopher's sense of the word, will also make him a good -citizen. If the constitution is bad, then the education best -fitted to make a man loyal to it may have to be very different -from that which you would choose to make him a good man. -The discussion of the kind of education desirable for the best -kind of state, in which to be a loyal citizen and to be a good -man are the same thing, is perhaps the most permanently -valuable part of the </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span>. Though Aristotle's writings on -"practical" philosophy have been more read in modern times -than any other part of his works, they are far from being his -best and most thorough performances. In no department of -his thought is he quite so slavishly dependent on his master -Plato as in the theory of the "good for man" and the character -of "moral" excellence. No Aristotelian work is quite so -commonplace in its handling of a vast subject as the </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span>. -In truth his interest in these social questions is not of the -deepest. He is, in accordance with his view of the superiority -of "theoretical science," entirely devoid of the spirit of the -social reformer. What he really cares about is "theology" -and "physics," and the fact that the objects of the educational -regulations of the </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> are all designed to encourage the -study of these "theoretical" sciences, makes this section of the -</span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> still one of the most valuable expositions of the aims -and requirements of a "liberal" education.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All education must be under public control, and education -must be universal and compulsory. Public control is necessary, -not merely to avoid educational anarchy, but because it is -a matter of importance to the community that its future -citizens should be trained in the way which will make them -most loyal to the constitution and the ends it is designed to -subserve. Even in one of the "bad" types of state, where -the life which the constitution tends to foster is not the -highest, the legislator's business is to see that education is -directed towards fostering the "spirit of the constitution." There -is to be an "atmosphere" which impregnates the whole -of the teaching, and it is to be an "atmosphere" of public -spirit. The only advantage which Aristotle sees in private -education is that it allows of more modification of programme -to meet the special needs of the individual pupil than a -rigid state education which is to be the same for all. The -actual regulations which Aristotle lays down are not very -different from those of Plato. Both philosophers hold that -"primary" education, in the early years of life, should aim -partly at promoting bodily health and growth by a proper -system of physical exercises, partly at influencing character and -giving a refined and elevated tone to the mind by the study -of letters, art, and music. Both agree that this should be -followed in the later "teens" by two or three years of specially -rigorous systematic military training combined with a taste -of actual service in the less exhausting and less dangerous -parts of a soldier's duty. It is only after this, at about the -age at which young men now take a "university" course, that -Plato and Aristotle would have the serious scientific training -of the intellect begun. The </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span> leaves the subject just at -the point where the young men are ready to undergo their -special military training. Thus we do not know with certainty -what scientific curriculum Aristotle would have recommended, -though we may safely guess that it would have contained -comparatively little pure mathematics, but a great deal of -astronomy, cosmology, and biology.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With respect to the "primary" education Aristotle has a -good deal to say. As "forcing" is always injurious, it should -not be begun too soon. For the first five years a child's life -should be given up to healthy play. Great care must be taken -that children are not allowed to be too much with "servants," -from whom they may imbibe low tastes, and that they are -protected against any familiarity with indecency. From five -to seven a child may begin to make a first easy acquaintance -with the life of the school by looking on at the lessons of its -elders. The real work of school education is to begin at seven -and not before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We next have to consider what should be the staple subjects -of an education meant not for those who are to follow some -particular calling, but for all the full citizens of a state. -Aristotle's view is that some "useful" subjects must, of course, -be taught. Reading and writing, for instance, are useful for -the discharge of the business of life, though their commercial -utility is not the highest value which they have for us. But -care must be taken that only those "useful" studies which are -also "liberal" should be taught; "illiberal" or "mechanical" -subjects must not have any place in the curriculum. A -"liberal" education means, as the name shows, one which will -tend to make its recipient a "free man," and not a slave in -body and soul. The mechanical crafts were felt by Aristotle -to be illiberal because they leave a man no leisure to make the -best of body and mind; practice of them sets a stamp on the -body and narrows the mind's outlook. In principle then, no -study should form a subject of the universal curriculum if its -only value is that it prepares a man for a profession followed -as a means of making a living. General education, all-round -training which aims at the development of body and mind for -its own sake, must be kept free from the intrusion of everything -which has a merely commercial value and tends to contract -the mental vision. It is the same principle which we rightly -employ ourselves when we maintain that a university education -ought not to include specialisation on merely "technical" or -"professional" studies. The useful subjects which have at the -same time a higher value as contributing to the formation of -taste and character and serving to elevate and refine the mind -include, besides reading and writing, which render great -literature accessible to us, bodily culture (the true object of which -is not merely to make the body strong and hardy, but to -develop the moral qualities of grace and courage), music, and -drawing. Aristotle holds that the real reason for making -children learn music is (1) that the artistic appreciation of -really great music is one of the ways in which "leisure" may -be worthily employed, and to appreciate music rightly we must -have some personal training in musical execution; (2) that all -art, and music in particular, has a direct influence on character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Plato and Aristotle, though they differ on certain points of -detail, are agreed that the influence of music on character, for -good or bad, is enormous. Music, they say, is the most -imitative of all the arts. The various rhythms, times, and scales -imitate different tempers and emotional moods, and it is a -fundamental law of our nature that we grow like what we take -pleasure in seeing or having imitated or represented for us. -Hence if we are early accustomed to take pleasure in the imitation -of the manly, resolute, and orderly, these qualities will in -time become part of our own nature. This is why right -musical education is so important that Plato declared that the -revolutionary spirit always makes its first appearance in -innovations on established musical form.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is, however, one important difference between the two -philosophers which must be noted, because it concerns Aristotle's -chief contribution to the philosophy of fine art. Plato -had in the </span><em class="italics">Republic</em><span> proposed to expel florid, languishing, or -unduly exciting forms of music not only from the schoolroom, -but from life altogether, on the ground of their unwholesome -tendency to foster an unstable and morbid character in those -who enjoy them. For the same reason he had proposed the -entire suppression of tragic drama. Aristotle has a theory -which is directly aimed against this overstrained Puritanism. -He holds that the exciting and sensational art which would be -very bad as daily food may be very useful as an occasional -medicine for the soul. He would retain even the most sensational -forms of music on account of what he calls their "purgative" -value. In the same spirit he asserts that the function -of tragedy, with its sensational representations of the calamities -of its heroes, is "by the vehicle of fear and pity to purge our -minds of those and similar emotions." The explanation of the -theory is to be sought in the literal sense of the medical term -"purgative." According to the medical view which we have -already found influencing his ethical doctrine, health consists -in the maintenance of an equality between the various -ingredients of the body. Every now and again it happens that -there arise superfluous accretions of some one ingredient, which -are not carried away in the normal routine of bodily life. -These give rise to serious derangement of function and may -permanently injure the working of the organism, unless they -are removed in time by a medicine which acts as a purge, and -clears the body of a superfluous accumulation. The same thing -also happens in the life of the soul. So long as we are in good -spiritual health our various feelings and emotional moods will -be readily discharged in action, in the course of our daily life. -But there is always the possibility of an excessive accumulation -of emotional "moods" for which the routine of daily life does -not provide an adequate discharge in action. Unless this -tendency is checked we may contract dangerously morbid habits -of soul. Thus we need some medicine for the soul against this -danger, which may be to it what a purgative is to the body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now it was a well-known fact, observed in connection with -some of the more extravagant religious cults, that persons -suffering from an excess of religious frenzy might be cured -homoeopathically, so to say, by artificially arousing the very -emotion in question by the use of exciting music. Aristotle -extends the principle by suggesting that in the artificial -excitement aroused by violently stimulating music or in the -transports of sympathetic apprehension and pity with which we -follow the disasters of the stage-hero, we have a safe and ready -means of ridding ourselves of morbid emotional strain which -might otherwise have worked havoc with the efficient conduct -of real life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The great value of this defence of the occasional employment -of sensation as a medicine for the soul is obvious. Unhappily -it would seem to have so dominated Aristotle's thought on the -functions of dramatic art as to blind him to what we are -accustomed to think the nobler functions of tragedy. No book -has had a more curious fate than the little manual for intending -composers of tragedies which is all that remains to us of -Aristotle's lectures on Poetry. This is not the place to tell -the story of the way in which the great classical French -playwrights, who hopelessly misunderstood the meaning of Aristotle's -chief special directions, but quite correctly divined that -his lectures were meant to be an actual </span><em class="italics">Vade Mecum</em><span> for -the dramatist, deliberately constructed their masterpieces in -absolute submission to regulations for which they had no better -reasons than that they had once been given magisterially by an -ancient Greek philosopher. But it may be worth while to -remark that the worth of Aristotle's account of tragedy as -art-criticism has probably been vastly overrated. From first to -last the standpoint he assumes, in his verdicts on the great -tragic poets, is that of the gallery. What he insists on all -through, probably because he has the purgative effect of the -play always in his mind, is a well-woven plot with plenty of -melodramatic surprise in the incidents and a thoroughly -sensational culmination in a sense of unrelieved catastrophe over -which the spectator can have a good cry, and so get well -"purged" of his superfluous emotion. It is clear from his -repeated allusions that the play he admired above all others -was the </span><em class="italics">King Oedipus</em><span> of Sophocles, but it is equally clear -that he admired it not for the profound insight into human life -and destiny or the deep sense of the mystery of things which -some modern critics have found in it, but because its plot is -the best and most startling detective story ever devised, and -its finale a triumph of melodramatic horror.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="bibliography"><span class="bold large">BIBLIOGRAPHY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The English reader who wishes for further information about -Aristotle and his philosophy may be referred to any or all of the -following works:--</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>E. Zeller.--</span><em class="italics">Aristotle and the Earlier Peripatetics</em><span>. English -translation in 2 vols. by B. F. C. Costelloe and J. H. Muirhead. -London. Longmans & Co.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*E. Wallace.--</span><em class="italics">Outlines of the Philosophy of Aristotle</em><span>. Cambridge -University Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>G. Grote.--</span><em class="italics">Aristotle</em><span>. London. John Murray.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*W. D. Ross.--</span><em class="italics">The Works of Aristotle translated into English</em><span>, -vol. viii., </span><em class="italics">Metaphysics</em><span>. Oxford. Clarendon Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*A. E. Taylor.--</span><em class="italics">Aristotle on his Predecessor</em><span>. (</span><em class="italics">Metaphysics</em><span>, Bk. I., -translated with notes, &c.) Chicago. Open Court Publishing Co.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>G. D. Hicks.--</span><em class="italics">Aristotle de Anima</em><span> (Greek text, English translation, -Commentary). Cambridge University Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*D. P. Chase.--</span><em class="italics">The Ethics of Aristotle</em><span>. Walter Scott Co.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*J. Burnet.--</span><em class="italics">Aristotle on Education</em><span>. (English translation of </span><em class="italics">Ethics</em><span>, -Bks. I.-III. 5, X. 6 to end; </span><em class="italics">Politics</em><span>, VIII. 17, VIII.) -Cambridge University Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*B. Jowett.--</span><em class="italics">The Politics of Aristotle</em><span>. Oxford. Clarendon Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>*I. Bywater.--</span><em class="italics">Aristotle on the Art of Poetry</em><span>. (Greek Text, English -Translation, Commentary.) Oxford. Clarendon Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>J. I. Beare and W. D. Ross.--</span><em class="italics">The Works of Aristotle translated into -English</em><span>, Pt. I. (</span><em class="italics">Parvu Naturalia</em><span>, the minor psychological -works.) Oxford. Clarendon Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>J. I. Beare.--</span><em class="italics">Greek Theories of Elementary Cognition from Alemacon -to Aristotle</em><span>. Oxford. Clarendon Press.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The works marked by an asterisk will probably be found most -useful for the beginner. No works in foreign languages and no -editions not accompanied by an English translation have been -mentioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is at present no satisfactory complete translation of -Aristotle into English. One, of which two volumes have been -mentioned above, is in course of production at the Clarendon Press, -Oxford, under the editorship of J. A. Smith and W. D. Ross.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & Co. -<br />Edinburgh & London</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">"We have nothing but the highest praise for these -<br />little books, and no one who examines them will have -<br />anything else."--</span><em class="italics small">Westminster Gazette</em><span class="small">, 22nd June 1912.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold x-large">THE PEOPLE'S BOOKS</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold">THE FIRST NINETY VOLUMES</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span>The volumes issued are marked with an asterisk</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">SCIENCE</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>1. The Foundations of Science . . . By W. C. D. Whetham, M.A., F.R.S. -<br />2. Embryology--The Beginnings of Life . . . By Prof. Gerald Leighton, M.D. -<br />3. Biology . . . By Prof. W. D. Henderson, M.A. -<br />4. Zoology: The Study of Animal Life . . . By Prof. E. W. MacBride, M.A., F.R.S. -<br />5. Botany; The Modern Study of Plants . . . By M. C. Stopes, D.Sc., Ph.D., F.L.S. -<br />7. The Structure of the Earth . . . By Prof. T. G. Bonney, F.R.S. -<br />8. Evolution . . . By E. S. Goodrich, M.A., F.R.S. -<br />10. Heredity . . . By J. A. S. Watson, B.Sc. -<br />11. Inorganic Chemistry . . . By Prof. E. C. C. Baly, F.R.S. -<br />12. Organic Chemistry . . . By Prof. J. B. Cohen, B.Sc., F.R.S. -<br />13. The Principles of Electricity . . . By Norman K. Campbell, M.A. -<br />14. Radiation . . . By P. Phillips, D.Sc. -<br />15. The Science of the Stars . . . By E. W. Maunder, F.R.A.S. -<br />16. The Science of Light . . . By P. Phillips, D.Sc. -<br />17. Weather Science . . . By R. G. K. Lempfert, M.A. -<br />18. Hypnotism and Self-Education . . . By A. M. Hutchison, M.D. -<br />19. The Baby: A Mother's Book . . . By a University Woman. -<br />20. Youth and Sex--Dangers and Safeguards for Boys and Girls . . . By Mary Scharlieb, M.D., M.S., and F. Arthur Sibly, M.A., LL.D. -<br />21. Marriage and Motherhood . . . By H. S. Davidson, M.B., F.R.C.S.E. -<br />22. Lord Kelvin . . . By A. Russell, M.A., D.Sc., M.I.E.E. -<br />23. Huxley . . . By Professor G. Leighton, M.D. -<br />24. Sir William Huggins and Spectroscopic Astronomy . . . By E. W. Maunder, F.R.A.S., of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich. -<br />62. Practical Astronomy . . . By H. Macpherson, Jr., F.R.A.S. -<br />63. Aviation . . . By Sydney F. Walker, R.N. -<br />64. Navigation . . . By William Hall, R.N., B.A. -<br />65. Pond Life . . . By E. C. Ash, M.R.A.C. -<br />66. Dietetics . . . By Alex. Bryce, M.D., D.P.H.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>25. The Meaning of Philosophy . . . By Prof. A. E. Taylor, M.A., F.B.A. -<br />26. Henri Bergson . . . By H. Wildon Carr, Litt.D. -<br />27. Psychology . . . By H. J. Watt, M.A., Ph.D., D.Phil. -<br />28. Ethics . . . By Canon Rashdall, D.Litt., F.B.A. -<br />29. Kant's Philosophy . . . By A. D. Lindsay, M.A. -<br />30. The Teaching of Plato . . . By A. D. Lindsay, M.A. -<br />67. Aristotle . . . By Prof. A. E. Taylor, M.A., F.B.A. -<br />68. Friedrich Nietzsche . . . By M. A. Mügge. -<br />69. Eucken: A Philosophy of Life . . . By A. J. Jones, M.A., B.Sc., Ph.D. -<br />70. The Experimental Psychology of Beauty . . . By C. W. Valentine, B.A., D.Phil. -<br />71. The Problem of Truth . . . By H. Wildon Carr, Litt.D. -<br />31. Buddhism . . . By Prof. T. W. Rhys Davids, M.A., F.B.A. -<br />32. Roman Catholicism . . . By H. B. Coxon. Preface, Mgr. R. H. Benson. -<br />33. The Oxford Movement . . . By Wilfrid Ward. -<br />34. The Bible and Criticism . . . By W. H. Bennett, D.D., Litt.P., and W. F. Adeney, D.D. -<br />35. Cardinal Newman . . . By Wilfrid Meynell. -<br />72. The Church of England . . . By Rev. Canon Masterman. -<br />73. Anglo-Catholicism . . . By A. E. Manning Foster. -<br />74. The Free Churches . . . By Rev. Edward Shillito, M.A. -<br />75. Judaism . . . By Ephraim Levine, M.A. -<br />76. Theosophy . . . By Annie Besant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">HISTORY</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>36. The Growth of Freedom . . . By H. W. Nevinson. -<br />37. Bismarck and the Origin of the German Empire . . . By Professor F. M. Powicke. -<br />38. Oliver Cromwell . . . By Hilda Johnstone, M.A. -<br />39. Mary Queen of Scots . . . By E. O'Neill, M.A. -<br />40. Cecil John Rhodes, 1853-1902 . . . By Ian D. Colvin. -<br />41. Julius Cæsar . . . By Hilary Hardinge. -<br />42. England in the Making . . . By Prof. F. J. C. Hearnshaw, M.A., LL.D. -<br />43. England in the Middle Ages . . . By E. O'Neill, M.A. -<br />44. The Monarchy and the People . . . By W. T. Waugh, M.A. -<br />45. The Industrial Revolution . . . By Arthur Jones, M.A. -<br />46. Empire and Democracy . . . By G. S. Veitch, M.A., Litt.D. -<br />61. Home Rule . . . By L. G. Redmond Howard. Preface by Robert Harcourt, M.P. -<br />77. Nelson . . . By H. W. Wilson. -<br />78. Wellington and Waterloo . . . By Major G. W. Redway.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>47. Women's Suffrage . . . By M. G. Fawcett, LL.D. -<br />48. The Working of the British System of Government to-day . . . By Prof. Ramsay Muir, M.A. -<br />49. An Introduction to Economic Science . . . By Prof H. O. Meredith. M.A. -<br />50. Socialism . . . By B. B. Kirkman, B.A. -<br />79. Mediæval Socialism . . . By Bede Jarrett, O.P., M.A. -<br />80. Syndicalism . . . By J. H. Harley, M.A. -<br />81. Labour and Wages . . . By H. M. Hallsworth, M.A., B.Sc. -<br />82. Co-operation . . . By Joseph Clayton. -<br />83. Insurance as a Means of Investment . . . By W. A. Robertson, F.F.A.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">LETTERS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>51. Shakespeare . . . By Prof. C. H. Herford, Litt.D. -<br />52. Wordsworth . . . By Rosaline Masson. -<br />53. Pure Gold--A Choice of Lyrics and Sonnets . . . by H. C. O'Neill -<br />54. Francis Bacon . . . By Prof. A. R. Skemp, M.A. -<br />55. The Brontës . . . By Flora Masson. -<br />56. Carlyle . . . By L. MacLean Watt. -<br />57. Dante . . . By A. G. Ferrers Howell. -<br />58. Ruskin . . . By A. Blyth Webster, M.A. -<br />59. Common Faults in Writing English . . . By Prof. A. R. Skemp, M.A. -<br />60. A Dictionary of Synonyms . . . By Austin K. Gray, B.A. -<br />84. History of English Literature . . . By A. Compton-Rickett. -<br />85. A History of English Literature . . . By A. Compton-Rickett, LL.D. -<br />86. Browning . . . By Prof. A. R. Skemp, M.A. -<br />87. Charles Lamb . . . By Flora Masson. -<br />88. Goethe . . . By Prof. C. H. Herford, Litt.D. -<br />90. Rousseau . . . By F. B. Kirkman, B.A. -<br />91. Ibsen . . . By Hilary Hardinge.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">LONDON AND EDINBURGH: T. C. & E. C. JACK -<br />NEW YORK: DODGE PUBLISHING CO.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ARISTOTLE</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48002"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48002</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be -used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific -permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, -complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for -nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away – you may do practically </span><em class="italics">anything</em><span> in the United States with -eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject -to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.</span></p> -<div class="level-3 section" id="the-full-project-gutenberg-license"> -<span id="project-gutenberg-license"></span><h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><span>The Full Project Gutenberg License</span></h3> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Please read this before you distribute or use this work.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-1-general-terms-of-use-redistributing-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.A.</strong><span> By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by -the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.B.</strong><span> “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.C.</strong><span> The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free -access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works -in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project -Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with -the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format -with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it -without charge with others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.D.</strong><span> The copyright laws of the place where you are located also -govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most -countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the -United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms -of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.</strong><span> Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.1.</strong><span> The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span> . If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.2.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.3.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.4.</strong><span> Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg™.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.5.</strong><span> Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute -this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.6.</strong><span> You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other -than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span>), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.7.</strong><span> Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.8.</strong><span> You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that</span></p> -<ul class="open"> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from -the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you -already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to -the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to -donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 -days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally -required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments -should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, -“Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation.”</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies -you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he -does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ -License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all -copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue -all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ -works.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of -any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the -electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of -receipt of the work.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free -distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.</span></p> -</li> -</ul> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.9.</strong><span> If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.</strong></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.1.</strong><span> Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend -considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe -and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating -the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be -stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, -incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a -copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or -damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that -damage or cannot be read by your equipment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.2.</strong><span> LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the -“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the -Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.3.</strong><span> LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.4.</strong><span> Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set -forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH -NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.5.</strong><span> Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.6.</strong><span> INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, -the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-2-information-about-the-mission-of-project-gutenberg"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a><span> .</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-3-information-about-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf</a><span> . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to -the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email </span><a class="reference external" href="mailto:business@pglaf.org">business@pglaf.org</a><span>. Email -contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the -Foundation's web site and official page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For additional contact information:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Dr. Gregory B. Newby</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Chief Executive and Director</span></div> -<div class="line"><a class="reference external" href="mailto:gbnewby@pglaf.org">gbnewby@pglaf.org</a></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-4-information-about-donations-to-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing -the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status -with the IRS.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-5-general-information-about-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Corrected </span><em class="italics">editions</em><span> of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is -renamed. </span><em class="italics">Versions</em><span> based on separate sources are treated as new -eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe -to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</body> -</html> |