CHAPTER XI
ARISTOTLE

The Socratic doctrine of concepts introduced into philosophy the notion of the universal. No sooner, however, had Socrates formulated the doctrine of universal concepts than the Cynics arose denying that anything exists except the individual. Thus it at once became necessary to define the true relation between the universal and the individual. This was the aim of Plato's theory of Ideas, in which the relation was explained by deriving the individual (in reality and in knowledge) from the universal. Aristotle, judging that Plato's explanation was a failure, opened up the problem once more, and endeavored to solve it by deriving the universal (in reality and in knowledge) from the individual. The continuity of philosophic thought is, therefore, to be traced from Socrates, through Plato, to Aristotle, as if the imperfect Socratic and Platonic schools had not existed.

Life.^{1} Aristotle was born at Stagira, a seaport town of the colony of Chalcidice in Macedonia, in the year 384 B.C. His father, Nicomachus, was physician to King Amyntas of Macedon, and if, as is probable, the profession of medicine was long hereditary in the family, we may suppose that this circumstance was not without its influence in determining Aristotle's predilection for natural science. When he was eighteen years old, Aristotle went to Athens, where for twenty years he followed the lectures of Plato. Many stories are told concerning the strained relations between the aged teacher and his illustrious scholar, -- stories which, however, are without any foundation. There may indeed have been differences of opinion between master and pupil, but there was evidently no open breach of friendship, for in later years Aristotle continued to count himself among the Platonic disciples,^{2} associated with Xenocrates on terms of intimate friendship, and showed in every way that his respect for his teacher was not lessened by the divergence of their philosophical opinions. Many of the tales told to Aristotle's discredit are traced to Epicurus and the Epicureans, -- calumniators by profession (grubbers of gossip, as Zeller calls them), -- and it is to be regretted that writers like St. Gregory Nazianzen and Justin Martyr were misled by statements which were manifestly made with hostile purpose. We are safe, therefore, in supposing that Aristotle was diligent and attentive pupil, and that he did not give expression to his criticism of Plato's theories until after he had listened to everything that Plato had to say in explanation and defense of his views.

After Plato's death Aristotle repaired, in company with Xenocrates, to the court of Hermias, lord of Atarneus, whose sister or niece, Pythias, he married. In 343 he was summoned by Philip of Macedon to become the tutor of Alexander, who was then in his thirteenth year. The influence which he exercised on the mind of the future conqueror is described in Plutarch's Alexander. When Alexander departed on his Asiatic campaign Aristotle returned to Athens. This was about the year 335. It is possible that, as Gellius^{3} says, Aristotle had, during his former residence at Athens, given lessons in rhetoric; it is certain that now for the first time he opened a school of philosophy. He taught in a gymnasium called the Lyceum, discoursing with his favorite pupils while strolling up and down the shaded walks around the gymnasium of Apollo, -- whence the name Peripatetics (from peripateô).^{4}

Through the generosity of his royal pupil, Aristotle was enabled to purchase a large collection of books, and to pursue his investigations of nature under the most favorable circumstances. His writings prove how fully he availed himself of these advantages: he became thoroughly acquainted with the speculations of his predecessors and neglected no opportunity of conducting, either personally or through the observations of others, a systematic study of natural phenomena. Towards the end of Alexander's life the relations between the philosopher and the great commander became somewhat strained. Still, so completely was Aristotle identified in the minds of the Athenians with the Macedonian party that after Alexander's death he was obliged to flee from Athens. The charge which was made the pretense of his expulsion from the city was the stereotyped one of impiety, to which charge Aristotle disdained to answer, saying (as the tradition is) that he would not give the Athenians an opportunity of offending a second time against philosophy. Accordingly, he left the city (in 323), repairing to Chalcis in Euboea. There he died in the year 322, a few months before the death of Demosthenes. There is absolutely no foundation for the fables narrated by so many ancient writers and copied by some of the early Fathers, that he died by poison or that he committed suicide by throwing himself into the Euboean Sea "because he could not explain the tides."

Aristotle's Character. Eusebius, in his Praeparatio Evangelica, XV, 2, enumerates and refutes the accusations which were brought against Aristotle's personal character, quoting from Aristocles, a Peripatetic of the first century B.C. These accusations are practically the same as those which gained currency among the enemies and detractors of Plato, and are equally devoid of foundation. From Aristotle's writings, from fragments of his letters, from his will, as well as from the reliable accounts of his life, we are enabled to form a tolerably complete picture of his personal character. Noble, high-minded, thoroughly earnest, devoted to truth, courteous to his opponents, faithful to his friends, kind towards his slaves, he did not fall far short of the ideal moral life which he sketched in his ethical treatise. Compared with Plato, he exhibited greater universality of taste; he was not an Athenian; in a certain sense, he was not a Greek at all. He exhibited in his character some of that cosmopolitanism which afterwards became a trait of the ideal philosopher.

Aristotle's Writings.^{5} It is quite beyond dispute that some of the works which Aristotle compiled or composed have been lost. Thus, for example, the anatomai (containing anatomical charts), the peri phitôn (the existing treatise De Plantis is by Theophrastus), the politeiai (a collection of constitutions of states; the portion which treats of the Constitution of Athens has been discovered in recent years), and the Dialogues are among the lost works. It is equally certain that many portions of the collected works of Aristotle as we now possess them are of doubtful authenticity, while it is possible that a still larger number of books or portions of books are little more than lecture notes amplified by the pupils who edited them. It is well, for example, for the student of the Metaphysics to know that, of the fourteen books which compose it, the first, third, fourth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth constitute the work as begun but not finished by Aristotle. Of the remaining books, the second and one half of the eleventh are pronounced spurious, while the rest are independent treatises which were not intended to form part of the work on first philosophy. Without entering into the more minute questions of authenticity, we may accept the following arrangement of Aristotle's works, with their Latin titles.^{6} LOGICAL TREATISES

Constituting the Organon: (1) Categoriae, (2) De Interpretatione, (3) Analytica Priora, (4) Analytica Posteriora, (5) Topica, (6) De Sophistices Elenchis. These were first included under the title of Organon in Byzantine times.

METAPHYSICAL TREATISE

The work entitled meta ta phusika (or at least a portion of it) was styled by Aristotle prôtê philosophia. Its present title is probably due to the place which it occupied (after the physical treatises) in the collection edited by Andronicus of Rhodes (about 70 B.C.).

PHYSICAL TREATISES

(1) Physica Auscultatio, or Physica, (2) De Caelo, (3) De Generatione et Corruptione, (4) Meteorologica, (5) Historiae Animalium, (6) De Generatione Animalium, (7) De Partibus Animalium.

PSYCHOLOGICAL TREATISES

(1) De Anima, (2) De Sensu et Sensibili, (3) De Memoria et Reminiscentia, (4) De Vita et Morte, (5) De Longitudine et Brevitate Vitae, and other minor works.

ETHICAL TREATISES

(1) Ethica Nicomachea, (2) Politica. The Eudemian Ethics is the work of Eudemus, although it is probable that it was intended as a recension of an Aristotelian treatise.

RHETORICAL AND POETICAL TREATISES

(1) De Poetica, (2) De Rhetorica. These are spurious in parts.

Gellius^{7} speaks of a twofold class of Aristotelian writings, the exoteric, which were intended for the general public,^{8} and the acroatic, which were intended for those only who were versed in the phraseology and modes of thought of the school. All the extant works belong to the latter class. The story of the fate of Aristotle's works as narrated by Strabo^{9} and repeated with the addition of a few details by Plutarch,^{10} is regarded as reliable. It tells how the library of Aristotle fell into the hands of Theophrastus, by whom it was bequeathed to Neleus of Scepsis. After the death of Neleus the manuscripts were hidden in a cellar, where they remained for almost two centuries. When Athens was captured by the Romans in 84 B.C., the library was carried to Rome by Sulla. At Rome a grammarian named Tyrannion secured several copies, thus enabling Andronicus of Rhodes to collect the treatises and publish them. It must not, however, be inferred that the manuscripts hidden in the cellar for two hundred years were the only existing copy of Aristotle's works, or that during all those years the Peripatetic philosophers were without a copy of the works of Aristotle. The subsequent history of the Corpus Aristotelicum and the story of the Syriac, Arabian, and Latin translations belong to the history of mediaeval ilosophy.

ARISTOTLE'S PHILOSOPHY

General Character and Division. Aristotle's concept of philosophy agrees, in the main, with that of Plato. Philosophy is the science of the universal essence o that which is actual.^{11} Aristotle is, however, more inclined than Plato was to attach a theoretical value to philosophy. The difference between the two philosophers is still greater in their respective notions of philosophic method. Aristotle does not begin with the universal and reason down to the particular; on the contrary, he Starts with particular data of experience and reasons up to the universal essence. His method is inductive as well as deductive. Consequently, he is more consistent than Plato in including the natural sciences in philosophy and considering them part of the body of philosophic doctrine. In fact, Aristotle makes philosophy to be coextensive with scientific knowledge. "All science (dianoia) is either practical, poietical, or theoretical."^{12} By practical science he means politics and ethics; under the head poietic (poiêtike) he includes not only the philosophy of poetry but the knowledge of the other imitative arts, while by theoretical philosophy he understands Physics, Mathematics, and Metaphysics. Metaphysics is philosophy in the stricter sense the word: it is the knowledge of immaterial Being or of Being in the highest degree of abstraction (peri chôrista kai akinêta); it is the pinnacle of all knowledge, the theological science. In this classification logic has no place, being apparently regarded as a science preparatory to philosophy.

Our study of Aristotle's philosophy will, therefore, include: (A) logic; (B) theoretical philosophy, including (a) metaphysics, (b) physics. (c) mathematics; (C) practical Philosophy; (D) poietical philosophy.

A. Logic, including Theory of Knowledge. Aristotle does not employ the word logic in the modern meaning of the term. The science which we call logic, and of which he is rightly considered the founder, was known to him as analytic. The Organon, as the body of logical doctrine was styled by the later Peripatetics, consists of six parts, or treatises

1. The Categoriae. In the first of his logical treatises Aristotle gives his classification, or enumeration, of the highest classes (categories) into which all concepts, and consequently all real things, are divided; they are substance, quantity, quality, relation, action, passion, place, time, situation, and habitus. He intimates that these are intended as classes of things expressed by isolated words, ta aneu sumplokês legomena, that is to say, by words which do not form part of a proposition. They are to be distinguished, therefore, from the predicables, or classes of the possible relations in which the predicate of a proposition may stand to the subject. The predicables are definition (hopos), genus, difference, property, and accident.

There can be no reasonable doubt as to the originality of the Aristotelian arrangement of categories. It is true that there is a remote analogy between the categories and the distinctions of the grammarian; but the analogy can be explained without supposing that Aristotle expressly intended to conform his categories to the grammatical divisions of words. It is also true that Aristotle does not always enumerate the categories in the same manner.^{13}

2. The De Interpretatione. In the second of the logical treatises, Aristotle takes up the study of the proposition and the judgment. He distinguishes the different kinds of propositions, and treats of their opposition and conversion. This portion of his work forms the core of modern logical teaching.

3. The Analytica Priora contains the treatise on reasoning, deductive and inductive. In his doctrine of the syllogism Aristotle admits only three figures. (The syllogism, he teaches, is based on the Law of Contradiction and the Law of Excluded Middle.) He mentions three rules of the syllogism. Induction (epagôgê) he defines as reasoning from the particular to the general, and though the syllogism, which proceeds from the general to the particular, is more cogent, in itself, induction is, for us, easier to understand. The only kind of induction admitted by Aristotle is complete induction.

4. In the Analytica Posteriora Aristotle takes up the study of demonstration (apodeixis). True demonstration, as indeed all true scientific knowledge, deals with the universal and necessary causes of things. Consequently, all true demonstration consists in showing causes, and the middle term in a demonstration must, therefore, express a cause. Not all truths, however, are capable of demonstration. The first principles of a science cannot be demonstrated in that science, and principles which are first, absolutely, are indemonstrable: they belong not to reason, but to intellect (Nous). To the class of indemonstrable truths belong also truths of immediate experience.^{14}

5. The Topica has for subject-matter the dialectical or problematic syllogism, which differs from demonstration in this, that its conclusions are not certain but merely probable; they belong to opinion rather than to scientific knowledge. The Topica also treats of the predicables.

6. The treatise De Sophisticis Elenchis contains Aristotle's atudy of fallacies, or sophisms. It contains also an attack on the Sophists and their methods. Before we proceed to explain Aristotle's metaphysical doctrines it is necessary to take up the principles of his theory of knowledge as we find them in the Analytica Posteriora and elsewhere in his logical and metaphysical treatises.

Theory of Knowledge. Nowhere does the contrast between the philosophy of Plato and that of Aristotle appear so clearly as in their theories of knowledge.

1. Plato makes experience to be merely the occasion of scientific knowledge. Aristotle regards experience as the true source and true cause of all our knowledge intellectual as well as sensible.^{15}

2. Plato begins with the universal (Idea) and attempts to descend to the particular (Phenomenon); Aristotle, while he recognizes that there is no science of the individual as such (hê d' epistêmê tôn katholou),^{16} maintains, nevertheless, that our knowledge of the individual precedes our knowledge of the universal: ek tôn kath hekasta gar tou katholou.^{17}

3. Plato hypostatized the universal, attributing to it a separate existence. This, according to Aristotle, is to reduce the universal to a useless form; for, if the universal exists apart from the individual, there can be no transition from a knowledge of the one to a knowledge of the other. The universal, Aristotle teaches, is not apart from individual things.^{18}

4. Finally, according to Plato, the universal, as it exists apart from phenomena, is a full-blown univeral, endowed with the formal character of universality; according to Aristotle, the formal aspect of universality is conferred by the mind, and, therefore, the universal, as such, does not exist in individual things, but in the mind alone. This is the only intelligible interpretation of such passages as Metaphysics, III, 4, 999 and De Anima, II, 5, 417, in which Aristotle maintains that the individual alone exists and that the universal is somehow (pôs) in the mind.^{19}

Aristotle's theory of knowledge, as is evident from the four principles just explained, recognizes two fundamental attributes of intellectual knowledge: its essential dependence on sense-knowledge and its equally essential superiority to sense-knowledge. Aristotle is as careful to avoid sensism on the one hand as he is to escape idealism on the other; for, though he admits that all knowledge begins with experience, he contends that intellectual thought (noêsis) is concerned with the universal, or intelligible (noêton), while sense-knowledge has for its object the individual, the sense-perceived (aisthêton). The distinction of objects is made the basis and ground of a distinction of faculties and of kinds of knowledge.^{20}

If, then, there is a distinction between sense-knowledge and thought, and if all knowledge begins with sense-knowledge, how do we rise from the region of sense to that of intellect? Aristotle answers by distinguishing first and second substance. The first substance (ousia prôtê) is the individual, which can neither exist in another nor be predicated of another. Second substance is the universal, which, as such, does not exist in another, but may be predicated of another. In the individual substance we distinguish, on closer examination, two elements, the hupokeimenon or undetermined, determinable substratum, the matter (hulê), and the determining principle, or form (eidos), by which the substance is made to be what it is.^{21} The essential nature, therefore, the unalterable essence corresponding to the conncept -- the object, consequently, of intellectual knowledge -- is the form. Matter, it is true, is part of the essential nature,^{22} but it is, as it were, the constant factor, always the same, and of itself undifferentiated; it enters into a definition as materia communis, and when we designate the form of an object, implying the presence of matter in its general concept, we have answered the question, What is that object? The form, then, considered apart from the matter, is the essence of the object as far as intellectual knowledge is concerned; for intellectual knowledge has for its object the universal, and since matter is the principle of individuation, and form the principle of specification, the conclusion of the inquiry as to the object of intellectual knowledge is that matter and the individual qualities arising from matter belong to sense-knowledge, while the form alone, which is the universal, belongs to intellectual knowledge.^{23} Returning now to the question, How do we rise from the region of sense to the region of intellect? the object of sense-knowledge, we repeat, is the whole, the concrete individual substance. Thought, penetrating through the sense qualities, reaches the form, or quiddity, lying at the core of the substance, and this form, considered apart from the material conditions in which it is immersed, is the proper object of intellectual knowledge. Thus, the acquisition of scientific knowledge is a true development of sense-knowledge into intellectual knowledge, if by development is understood the process by which, under the agency of the intellect, the potentially intelligible elements of sense-knowledge are brought out into actual intelligibility. Aristotle himself describes the process as one of induction (epagôgê) or abstraction (aphairesis).^{24}

B. Theoretical Philosophy, a. Metaphysics. In the foregoing account of Aristotle's theory of knowledge it has been found necessary to mention form, matter, and substance, notions which properly belong to this division of his philosophy.

I. Definition of metaphysics. Metaphysics, or first philosophy, is the science of Being as Being.^{25} Other sciences have to do with the proximate causes and principles of Being, and, therefore, with Being in its lower determinations Metaphysics considers Being as such, in its highest or most general determinations, and consequently it is concerned with the highest, or ultimate, causes. Accordingly, on metaphysics devolves the task of considering the axioms of all sciences in so far as these axioms are laws of all existence. For this reason it is that in the Metaphysics Aristotle takes up the explanation and defense of the Law of Contradiction.

2. Negative teaching. Before proceeding to answer the problem of metaphysics, What are the principles of Being? Aristotle passes in review the answers given by his predecessors. He not only recounts the doctrines and opinions of the pre-Socratic philosophers, -- thereby adding to his many titles that of Founder of the History of Philosophy, -- but he also points out what seem to him to be the shortcomings and imperfections of each school or system. His criticism of Plato's theory of Ideas is deserving of careful study, because it is an unprejudiced examination of a great system of thought by one who was unusually well equipped for the task, and also because it is the most natural and intelligible introduction to the positive portion of Aristotle's Metaphysics in which he expounds his own views.

Both Plato and Aristotle maintain that scientific knowledge is concerned with the universal (compare Socratic doctrine of concepts). They agree in teaching that the world of sense is subject to change and that we must go beyond it to find the world of ideas. Here, however, they part company. Plato places the world of Ideas, the region of scientific knowledge, outside phenomena; Aristotle places it in the sensible objects themselves. it is, therefore, against the doctrine of a separate world of Ideas that all Aristotle's criticism of Plato's theory is directed.

(a) In the first place, Aristotle contends^{26} that the Platonic theory of Ideas is wholly barren. The Ideas were intended to explain how things came to be and how they came to be known; but they cannot be principles of Being, since they are not existent in things, and they cannot be principles of knowledge, since they exist apart from and have no intelligible relation to the things to be known. To suppose that we know things better by adding to the world of our experience the world of Ideas, is as absurd as to imagine that we can count better by multiplying the numbers to be counted. In a word, the Ideas are a meaningless duplication of sensible objects.

(b) In the next place, Aristotle^{27} recognizes in the theory of Ideas an attempt at solving the problem of motion and change. Indeed, since the Ideas are the only reality, they must contain the principle of change, for change is a reality; but Plato, by separating the Ideas from the world of phenomena, and by insisting on the static rather than on the dynamic phase of the Ideas, precluded all possibility of accounting for change by means of the Ideas.^{28}

(c) Moreover, Aristotle finds several contradictions in the Platonic theory. He is not satisfied with the Platonic doctrine of community between the Idea and the phenomenon; for, if the participation of the Idea by the phenomenon is anything more than a mere figure of speech, if there is really part of the Idea in the phenomenon, there must be a prototype on which this participation is modeled. If such a prototype exists, there is, for example, a tritos anthrôpos in addition to the absolute Idea of man and the man who exists in the world of phenomena. The significant fact is that Plato at one time describes the participation as methexis at another as mimêsis and ends by leaving it unexplained.^{29}

(d) Finally, the reason why Plato introduced the doctrine of Ideas was because scientific knowledge must have for its object something other than the phenomenon. Now, scientific knowledge has an object, if Ideas exist. The validity of scientific knowledge does not require that the Idea should exist apart from the phenomenon itself^{30}

3. Positive teaching. Metaphysics, as has been said, is the inquiry into the highest principles of Being. A principle (archê) is that by which a thing is or is known.^{31} The first problem of metaphysics is, therefore, to determine the relation between actuality and potentiality, the first principles of Being in the order of determination, or differentiation. Actuality (entelecheia energeia) is perfection, potentiality (dunamis) is the capability of perfection. The former is the determining principle of being, the latter is of itself indeterminate. Actuality and potentiality are above all categories; they are found in all beings with the exception of One, whose being is all actuality. In created being, then, as we should say, there is a mixture of potency and actuality. This mixture is, so to speak, the highest metaphysical formula, under which are included the compositions of matter and form, substance and accident, the soul and its faculties, active and passive intellect, etc. The dualism of actual and potential pervades the metaphysics, physics, psychology, and even the logic of Aristotle.

Still, potency and actuality are principles of Being in its metaphysical determinations. In the physical order, there enter into the constitution of concrete being four other principles called causes (aitiai). A cause is defined as that which in any way influences the production of something: it is, therefore, a principle in the order of physical determination. The classes of causes are_four, -- matter (hulê), form (eidos or morphê), efficient cause (to kinêtikon), and final cause (to hou heneka).^{32} Of these, matter and form are intrinsic constituents of being, while efficient and final causes are extrinsic principles. Nevertheless, these latter are true causes inasmuch as the effect depends on them.

Matter, or material cause, is that out of which being is made; bronze, for example, is the material cause of the statue. Matter is the substratum (hupokeimenon), indeterminate but capable of determination. It is the receptacle (dektikon) of Becoming and decay.^{33} It can neither exist nor be known without form. In a word, it is potency. Matter in the condition of absolute potentiality is called first matter (hule prôtê), that is, matter without any form. Second matter is matter in the condition of relative potentiality. Second matter possesses a form, but because of its capability of further determination it is in potency to receive other forms.

Form, or formal cause, is that into which a thing is made. It is the principle of determination overcoming the indeterminateness of matter. Without it matter cannot exist: it is actuality. The Aristotelian notion of form, like the Platonic notion of Idea, was intended as a protest against the scepticism of the Sophists and the panmetabolism of the Heracliteans. Form is the object of intellectual knowledge, the unalterable essence of things, which remains unchanged amid the fluctuations of accidental qualities. Like the Idea, the form is the plentitude of actual being, for while matter is a reality, it is real merely as a potency. There is, however, a radical difference between the form and the Idea; the form exists in individual beings, the Idea exists apart from them: Aristotle merely distinguished matter and form; Plato not only distinguished but also separated the Idea from the phenomenon.

The union of matter and form constitutes the individual or concrete, substance (to sunolon, ousia prôtê). From matter arise the imperfections, limitations, and individuating qualities; from form come the essential, unalterable attributes, the specific nature of the substance. Matter, then, being presupposed as the common substratum of material existence, a substance is constituted in its essential nature by the form. Hence it is that Aristotle identifies the form with the essence, the quiddity (to ti en einai),^{34} the universal nature of a substance. Form is a second substance (ousia deutera) which, while it cannot inhere in another as in a subject, may, on account of its universality, be predicated of many. It would, however, be a serious mistake to represent Aristotle as reducing all reality to form, and ending as Plato had begun, with the doctrine of monism. For matter, in its generic concept, enters into the definition of the specific nature, and while it is not an actual, it is a real principle of being.^{35}

Aristotle further develops his theory of the relation between matter and form by teaching that matter is destined to receive form. It tends towards its form with something akin to desire: for the absence of form is not mere negation; it is privation (aterêsis). Aristotle, however, explains^{36} that matter is not pure privation. It is a positive something which, of its nature, is disposed to become determined by means of form.

Efficient cause is the third principle of being. It is defined as that by which (that is, by the agency of which) the effect is produced. Ultimately, it is form considered as operative, for no agent can act except by virtue of the form, which is the principle of its action as well as of its being.^{37} Hence the Scholastic adage, Agere sequitur esse. Moreover, all action is motion (kinêsis), and motion is defined as the passing from potency to actuality: he tou duname ontos entelecheia he toiouton.^{38} This identification of action with motion, and the definition of motion in terms of the actual and potential, lead at once to a conclusion which is, at first sight, startling in its universality, -- that all natural processes are processes of development, and that action merely brings out latent possibilities by bringing into actuality those perfections which were already contained as potencies in the matter. This generalization, it may be remarked, is in perfect harmony with modern physical principles, as, for example, with the Law of the Conservation of Energy. Aristotle, it is true, does not enter into the question of quantitative relations between the potential and the actual. But the higher the human mind rises in its inquiries, the less attention it pays to questions of quantitative equivalence, and the more importance it attaches to the general notion of internal development.

Final cause, the fourth principle of being, that on account of which the effect is produced, is, in a certain sense, the most important of all the causes.^{39} It not only determines whether the agent shall act, but it also determines the mode and manner of the action and the measure of the effect produced, so that if we could know the motive or end of an action, we should be in possession of a most fruitful source of knowledge concerning the result of that action. The final cause, like the efficient, is, in ultimate analysis, identical with form; it is the form of the effect, presented in intention and considered as a motive, inasmuch as by its desirability it impels the agent to act.

By the reduction of efficient and final causes to formal cause the ultimate principles of (finite) being are reduced to two, matter and form. These are the two intrinsic, essential constituents of the individual, concrete object, matter being the source of indeterminateness, potency, and imperfection, while form is the source of specific determination, actuality, and perfection.

The Aristotelian doctrine of causes is a synthesis of all preceding systems of philosophy. The Earlier Ionians spoke generically of cause; the Later Ionians distinguished material and efficient causes; Socrates, developing the doctrine of Anaxagoras, introduced the notion of final cause; Plato was the first to speak of formal causes -- unless the Pythagorean notion of number may be regarded as an attempt to find a formal principle of being. Thus did the generic notion of cause gradually undergo differentiation into the four kinds of cause. Aristotle was the first to advert to this historical dialectic of the idea of cause, and to give the different kinds of cause a place in his doctrine of the principles of being. Consequently, the Aristotelian doctrine of cause is a true development, a transition from the undifferentiated to the differentiated, and nowhere do we realize more clearly than in this doctrine of cause that Aristotle's philosophy is the culmination of all the philosophies which preceded it.

According to Aristotle, metaphysics is rightly called the theological science, because God is the highest object of metaphysical inquiry. For, although we may in our analysis of the principles of being descend to the lowest determination, -- or, rather, to the lack of all determination, -- materia prima, we may turn in the opposite direction, and by following the ascending scale of differentiation arrive at the notion of pure actuality, or Being in the highest grade of determinateness. Aristotle, in his proofs of the existence of God, did not set aside the teleological argument of Socrates.^{40} Devoted as he was to the investigation of nature, and especially to the study of living organisms, he could not fail to be struck by the adaptation everywhere manifest in natural phenomena, and particularly in the phenomena of life. He recognized, however, that the teleological is not the strongest argument for the existence of a Supreme Being. Accordingly, we find him establishing the existence of God by means of proofs more properly metaphysical than was the argument from design. He argues, for example,^{41} that, although motion is eternal, there cannot be an infinite series of movers and moved; there must, therefore, be one, the first in the series, which is unmoved, the prôton kinoun akinêton. Again,^{42} he argues that the actual is, of its nature, antecedent to the potential. Consequently, before all matter, and before all composition of actual and potential, pure actuality must have existed. Actuality is, therefore, the cause of all things that are, and, since it is pure actuality, its life is essentially free from all material conditions; it is the thought of thought (noêsis noêseôs).

To the question, What does Aristotle understand by the primum movens immobile and the actus purus? the answer seems to be that by the former of these expressions he meant something other than the Supreme Being. In the Physics, where he speaks of primum mobile, or rather of the prima moventia non mota,^{43} he describes the first being as the first in the order of efficient causes, an intelligence, the primum coelum. This, which is moved by the sight of the supreme intelligence of God, not, therefore, by any efficient cause, but by a final cause only, sets in motion the whole machinery of efficient causes beneath it. In the Metaphysics, however, our philosopher pursues his investigation into the realms beyond the first heaven, and finds that the intelligence which moves by its desirability the soul of the first heaven is the intelligence of intelligence, pure actuality, God.^{44} This is the interpretation of St. Thomas,^{45} who, while he regards God as the immediate efficient cause of the first motion of the universe, interprets Aristotle to mean that the First Intelligence moves merely by the desire which He inspires, drawing towards Him the soul of the first heaven. And it is natural to expect that in the philosophy of Aristotle there should be a supreme in the physical order as well as a supreme in the metaphysical order; that the metaphysical concept of First Intelligence should complete and round out the physical concept of a first mover.^{46}

God is one, for matter is the principle of plurality, and the First Intelligence is entirely free from material conditions. His life is contemplative thought; neither providence nor will is compatible with the eternal repose in which He dwells.^{47} Nevertheless, Aristotle sometimes speaks of God as taking an interest in human affairs.^{48} The truth is that Aristotle's idea of God was, like Plato's, far from being a clear or even a coherent concept. Aristotle was content with deducing from his philosophical principles the idea of a Supreme Self-Conscious Intelligence, but he had no adequate conception of the relation between self-consciousness and personality. It was left for Christian philosophy to determine and develop the notion of divine person.

We find the same indefiniteness in Aristotle's account of the origin of the World. The world, he taught, is eternal; for matter, motion, and time are eternal. Yet the world is caused.^{49} But how, according to Aristotle, is the world caused? Brentano^{50} believes that Aristotle taught the doctrine of creation ex nihilo, and there can be no doubt that St. Augustine and St. Thomas^{51} saw no contradiction in maintaining that a being may be eternal and yet created. The most conservative critics must grant that while Aristotle does not maintain the origin of the world by creation, he teaches the priority of act with respect to potency, thus implying that since the first potency was caused, it must have been caused ex nihilo. His premises, if carried to their logical conclusion, would lead to the doctrine of creation.^{52}

b. Physics. Physics, the study of nature, considers existence, not as it is in itself, but so far as it participates in movement (kinêseôs metechei).^{53} Nature includes everything which has in itself the principle of motion and rest. The works of nature differ from the products of art because, while the latter have no tendency to change (their originating principle being external to them), nature is essentially spontaneous, that is, self-determining from within.^{54} Nature does not, however, develop this internal activity except according to definite law. There is no such thing as accident or hazard: "Nature does nothing in vain."^{55} "Nature is always striving for the best."^{56} Thus, although Aristotle expressly rejects the Platonic idea of a world-soul, he recognizes in nature a definite teleological concept, a plan of development, to which the only obstacle is matter; for matter it is, that, by resisting the form, forces nature, as it were, to be content with the better in lieu of the best. The striving of nature is, therefore, through the less perfect to the more perfect.^{57}

Space (topos) is neither matter nor form; it is not the interval between bodies. It is "the first and unmoved limit of the enclosing, as against the enclosed," to tou periechontos peras akinêton prôton,^{58} that is to say, the surface (of the surrounding air, water, or solid substance) which is immediately contiguous to the body said to be in space, and which, though it may change, is considered as unmoved, because the circumscribed limits remain the same. Particular space is, therefore, coterminous with extended body, and space in general is coterminous with the limits of the world. Space is actually finite, yet potentially infinite, inasmuch as extension is capable of indefinite increase.^{59}

Time (chronos), which, like space, is the universal concomitant of sensible existence, is the measure of the succession of motion, arithmos kinêseôs kata to proteron kai husteron.^{60} The only reality in time is the present moment; in order to join the past and the future with the present, that is, in order to measure motion, mind is required. If there were no mind, there would be no time.^{61} movement (kinêsis) is the mode of existence of a potential being becoming actualized, hê tou dunamei ontos entelecheia hê toiouton.^{62} Motion not require, nor does it postulate, a vacuum, since we may imagine that another body leaves the space which the moving body enters.^{63} Besides substantial change, of which matter is the substratum, three kinds of motion are recognized by Aristotle, -- quantitative, qualitative, and spatial (phora).

In his stoichiology Aristotle adopts the four elements, or radical principles, which Empedocles introduced. He teaches, however, that the celestial space is filled with a body different from the four elements. This seems to be the part assigned by him to ether.^{64} Ether, then, is neither a fifth element entering with the other four into the constitution of the terrestrial world, nor, as is sometimes maintained, an undifferentiated substratum, like the apeiron of Anaximander, from which the four elements originated. It is the constituent of celestial bodies. The natural motion of ether is circular; that of the other elements is upward or downward, according as they are naturally endowed with lightness or with heaviness. It is hardly necessary to remark that until Newton's time there existed the belief that each particular body moved towards its own place, upward or downward, in virtue of the light or heavy elements which it contained.

Aristotle's astronomical doctrines were not in advance of the notions of the age to which he belonged. The earth, the center of the cosmic system, is spherical and stationary. It is surrounded by a sphere of air and a sphere of fire. In these spheres are fixed the heavenly bodies, which daily revolve round the earth from east to west, though seven of them revolve in longer periods from west to east. Outside all is the heaven of fixed stars, the prôtos uranos. It is next to the Deity, who imparted to its circumference a circular motion, thus mediately putting in motion the rest of the cosmic machinery. Aristotle agrees with Plato in teaching that the first heaven, like all the other heavenly bodies, is animated.

It is in his biological doctrines that Aristotle shows how far he excels all his predecessors as a student of nature. When we consider the difficulties with which he had to contend, -- he never dissected a human body, and probably never examined a human skull; he did not in any adequate sense dissect the bodies of animals, although he observed their entrails, -- when we remember that he was obliged to reckon time without the aid of a watch, and to observe degrees of temperature and atmospheric changes without the aid of a thermometer or a barometer, we realize that the words of superlative praise in which Cuvier, Buffon, and others speak of him as a naturalist are far from being undeserved. His mistakes^{65} are due to conditions which limited his power of personal observation. Despite these limitations he did observe a great deal, and observed accurately, discussing, classifying, comparing his facts before drawing his conclusions. His Histories of Animals, for example, is a vast record of investigations made by himself and others on the appearance, habits, and mental peculiarities of the different classes of animals.

Life is defined as the power of self-movement^{66} The principle that all action is development applies here as elsewhere in nature. Everywhere in the world of natural phenomena there is continuity; life and its manifestations offer no exception. Non-living matter gives rise to living things: the sponge is intermediate between plants and animals;^{67} the monkey (pithêkoi kêboi, kunokephaloi) is intermediate between quadrupeds and man.^{68} The lower animals are divided into nine classes: viviparous quadrupeds, oviparous quadrupeds, birds, fishes, whales, mollusks, Malacostraca, Testacea, and insects; of these the first five classes are blood-possessing, the latter four being bloodless. In his anatomical studies he divided organs into homoiomerê (made up of parts which are like the whole organ) and anomoiomerê (made up of parts which are unlike the whole, as the hand is made up of the palm and fingers).^{69} Digestion and secretion are the results of a cooking process.^{70}

The soul is the principle of that movement from within which life has been defined to be. It is the form of the body, psuchê estin entelecheia he prôte sômatos phusikou dunamei zôen echontos,^{71} and its relation to the body is generically the same as that of form to matter. Soul, then, is not synonymous with mind: it is not merely the principle of thought; it is the principle of life, and psychology is the science of all vital manifestations, but more particularly of sensation and thought. Thought is peculiar to man; but, since in the hierarchy of existence the more perfect contains the less perfect, the study of the human soul includes all the problems of psychology.

What, then, is the human soul? It is not a mere harmony of the body, as some of the older philosophers taught.^{72} It is not one of the four elements, nor is it a compound of the four, because exhibits powers (of thought) which transcend all the conditions of material existence.^{73} In no sense, therefore, can it be said to be corporeal. And yet it is united with the body, being, according to its definition, the form of the body. For the body has mere potency of life; all the actuality of the body comes from the soul. The soul is the realization of the end for which the body exists, -- the to tou heneka of its being: Soul and body, although distinct, are one substance, just as the wax and the Impression stamped upon it are one.^{74} It is worthy of note that, as in metaphysics Aristotle distinguishes, without separating, the universal from the individual, so in psychology he maintains on the one hand the distinction, and on the other the substantial unity of soul and body in man.

The soul, the radical principle of all vital phenomena, is one; still we may distinguish in the individual soul several faculties (dunameis) which are not parts of the soul but merely different phases of it according as it performs different vital functions. The soul and its faculties are, to use Aristotle's favorite comparison, like the concave and the convex of a curve, -- different views of one and the same thing. The faculties of the human soul are: (1) nutritive (threptikon), (2) sensitive (aisthêtikon), (3) appetitive (orektikon), (4) locomotive (kinêtikon), and (5) rational (logikon). Of these, the sensitive and the rational faculties claim special attention.^{75}

Sensation is the faculty "by which we receive the forms of sensible things without the matter, as the wax receives the figure of the seal without the metal, of which the seal is composed."^{76} This form without the matter (eidos aisthêton) is what the schoolmen called the species sensibilis; it differs essentially from the "effluxes" of which Empedocles spoke, for these latter are forms "with matter." Besides, the Aristotelian tupos is not, like the "efflux," a diminished object, but a medium of communication between object and subject. Sensation is a movement of the soul,^{77} and, like every other movement, it has its active and its passive phase. The active phase is what we call the stimulus; the passive phase is the species. Now, the active and passive phases of a movement are one and the same motion. The species, therefore, is merely the passive phase of the stimulus, or the operation of the object, as Aristotle calls it. This is the explicit teaching of the treatise De Anima. For example, hê de tou aisthêtou energeia kai tês aisthêseôs hê aute men esti kai mia, to d'einai ou tauton autais.^{78}

Aristotle distinguished five external senses, to each of which corresponds its proper object (aisthêton idion). Besides objects proper to each sense, there are objects common (koina) to several senses, such as movement, and there is the sensibile per accidens, or inferential object (kata sumbebêkos), such as substance.^{79}

Among the internal senses the most important is the common or central, sense (aisthêtêrion koinon). By it we distinguish the separate communications of the external senses, and by it also we perceive that we perceive. It has its seat not in the brain, but in the heart. Having no idea of the function of the nerves, Aristotle naturally regarded the veins as the great channels of communication, and the heart as the center of functional activity in the body.^{80} Moreover, he observed that the brain substance is itself incapable of responding to sensation stimulus.^{81}

In addition to the central sense, memory and imagination are mentioned by Aristotle as internal senses. Imagination, as a process (phantasia), is the movement resulting from the act of sensation; as a faculty, it is the locus of the pictures (phantasmata), which are the materials out ef which reason generates the idea.^{82} Without the phantasm it is impossible to reason (noein ouk estin anen phantasmatos).^{83}

Intellect. (nous) is the faculty by which man acquires intellectual knowledge. It differs from all the sense faculties in This, that while the latter are concerned with the concrete and individual, it has for its object the abstract and universal.^{84} "It is well called the locus of ideas," says Aristotle,^{85} "if we understand that it is the potential source of ideas, for in the beginning it is without ideas, it is like a smooth tablet on which nothing is written." We must always bear in mind this twofold relation of intellect to sense, namely, distinction and dependence.

The process by which the intellect rises from the individual to the universal has already been described in part. It is a process of development. The material on which the intellect works is the individual image (phantasm), or the individual object; the result of the process is the intelligible form, or idea, and the process itself is one of unfolding the individual so as to reveal the universal contained in it. The intellect does not create the idea; it merely causes the object which was potentially intelligible to become actually intelligible, "in the same way as light causes the potentially colored to become actually colored."^{86} The expressions "developing," "unfolding," "illuminating," are, of course, metaphorical: what really takes place is a process of abstraction, a separation of the individuating qualities from the universal, or an induction, that is to say, a bringing together of individuals under a universal image, "just as in the routed army one man must stand so as to become the center round which others may group themselves."^{87}

It is evident, therefore, that while the intellect does not create the concept, it is active in causing the object to become actually intelligible. There is, however, a subsequent stage in the process. Once the object is rendered intelligible, it impresses itself on the intellect in precisely the same way as the sensible object impresses its species on the senses. The intellect in this second stage of the process is called the passive intellect (nous pathêtikos), while in the first stage of the process it is called to poioun. It is worthy of remark that although it is usual to speak of the active and passive intellect, Aristotle never speaks of a nous poiêtikos, always designating the active intellect by means of the present participle.

From this it is clear that in Aristotle's psychology there is no room for the doctrine of innate ideas, All knowledge comes through the senses, nothing being innate in the mind except the native power of the active intellect by which it discovers in the concrete and individual the abstract and universal elements of thought contained therein. But what is this active intellect? What is its relation to the psuchê, the vita] principle in man? These are questions which have vexed the commentators and interpreters of Aristotle from the days of Theophrastus down to our own time. There is even greater difficulty in determining what Aristotle meant by the passive intellect. Where there is so complex a diversity of opinion it is perhaps hazardous to classify interpretations; still, it seems that the commentators and interpreters may be included under the heads Transcendentalists and Anthropologists. Eudemus, Alexander of Aphrodisias, the Arabians of the Middle Ages, and most modern commentators since the time of Hegel understand the active intellect to mean something apart from, or transcending in some way, the individual soul, while as to the nature of the passive intellect they are in a state of hopeless confusion. Theophrastus, Philoponus, Themistius, Simplicius, Boethius, and the greater number of the schoolmen, understand the active intellect to mean a faculty of the individual soul; while many of the schoolmen identify the passive intellect with the active, making the difference between the two powers to consist merely in a difference between two phases of the same faculty. It will be sufficient here to give the words in which Aristotle describes the active intellect, without entering into the question of interpretation. He speaks, in De Anima, III, 4, 429 a, of the intellect as separate and unmixed; in the following chapter^{88} he describes he active intellect as being "alone separate, eternal, and immortal" (430 a), and in De Generatione Animalium II, 3, 736 b, 28, he describes it as coming from without (thurathen), and as divine (theion). It must, however, be borne in mind that the chapters in which Aristotle enunciates his theory of knowledge are of a fragmentary nature, and, moreover, that this portion of Aristotle's psychological treatise deals with a question which no modern school with the exception of the transcendentalist school has attempted to solve. It is, therefore, not a matter for surprise that in expounding Aristotle so many modern writers have fallen into the error of interpreting him in the terminology of transcendentalism, thus illustrating the adage, "Aristotelem nonnisi ex ipso Aristotele intelliges."^{89}

By reason of its intellectual function, which it performs without intrinsic dependence on the bodily organism, and by which it transcends the conditions of matter, the soul is immaterial^{90} and immortal.^{91} Aristotle's doctrine of immortality is, however, conditioned by his doctrine of the active intellect. If the active intellect is something separate from the individual soul, an impersonal intellect, common to all men, -- and this is the interpretation followed by Alexander, by the Arabians, and by many modern scholars, -- it does not appear how Aristotle could hold that the soul is in any true sense of the word endowed with personal immortality.

With regard to will, in place of Plato's vague, unsatisfactory notion of thumos, we find the definite concept of boulêsis which may be described as a consilience of reason and desire. Will is rational appetite; it is the desire of good as apprehended by reason,^{92} and because it is preceded by a rational apprehension of good, it is free. This view of freedom of choice (proairesis) is supported by the recognized voluntariness of virtue, and by the equally well recognized fact that man is held accountable for his actions.^{93} Reason in its function of suggesting the best means by which an end is to be attained is called practical.

Before proceeding, however, to treat of ethics, which is the science of human conduct according to the principles of practical reason, it is necessary to mention the last division of theoretical philosophy, namely, mathematics.

c. Mathematics deals with immovable being, thus differing from physics, which has for object being subject to motion.^{94} It differs from metaphysics in this, that it deals with corporeal being under the determination of quantity, while metaphysics has for its object being in general, under its highest determinations, such as act and potency, cause and effect.^{95}

C Practical Philosophy includes the science of political government and organization as well as the general questions of moral science.

1. The supreme good of man is happiness. Of this no Greek had the least doubt. The word eudaimonia has, however, more of an objective meaning than our word happiness: It is more akin to well-being or welfare. But how is this well-being to be attained? What is it that constitutes happiness? happiness is determined by the end for which man was made, md the end of human existence is that form of good which is peculiar to man, the good which is proper to a rational being. Now, reason is the prerogative of man. It should, therefore, be the aim of man's existence to live conformably to reason, -- to live a life of virtue.^{96} Nevertheless, Aristotle would not exclude wealth and pleasure from the idea of human happiness; for wealth is necessary for the external manifestation of virtue, and pleasure is the natural reward of a virtuous life. Happiness also includes friendship, health, -- in a word, all the gifts of fortune.^{97}

2. Virtue, while it is not the only constituent of happiness, is the indispensable means of attaining happiness. It is not a mere feeling, but rather a fixed quality or habit of mind (hexis). Now, mind must first of all hold the lower functions, and especially the passions, in subjection, and then it must develop its own powers. Thus, we have moral virtue and intellectual virtue.

(a) Moral virtue is a certain habit of the faculty of choice, consisting in a mean (mesotês) suitable to our nature and fixed by reason in the manner in which a prudent man would fix it.^{98} It is a habit, -- that is, a fixed quality. It consists in a mean between excess and defect. Courage, for example, preserves the mean between cowardice and reckless daring. Virtue, it is true, is impossible without moral insight. Still, we must not identify these two as Socrates did when he reduced all virtue to knowledge. There are many kinds of virtue, for virtue is a quality of the will, and the defects and excesses to which the will may lead us are many, as will be seen by the following schema:

Justice (dikaiosunê) in its generic meaning signifies the observance of the right order of all the faculties of man, and in this sense it is synonymous with virtue. In a more restricted sense, justice is the virtue which regulates man's dealings with his fellow-man. It is divided into distributive, corrective, and commutative justice.^{100}

(b) The intellectual virtues are perfections of the intellect itself, without relation to the other faculties. We have (i) the perfections of the scientific reason, namely, understanding (nous) science (epistêmê), and wisdom (sophia), which are respectively concerned with first principles, demonstration, and the search for highest causes; and (2) the perfections of the practical reason, namely, art, which is referred to external actions (poiein), and practical wisdom, which is referred to actions the excellence of which depends on no external result (prattein).^{101}

The most characteristic of Aristotle's ethical teachings is the superiority which he assigns to intellectual over ethical virtue, and the most serious defect in his ethical system is his failure to refer human action to future reward and punishment.

3. In his political doctrines Aristotle starts with the principle that man is by nature a social being (politikon zôon), and is forced to depend on the social organization for the attainment of happiness. Man's social life begins in the family; for the family is prior to the state. The state is consequently bound to keep the family intact, and, in general, its mission is the advancement and development of its subjects, -- the lifting up of the people by the just administration of law to a higher plane of moral conduct.^{102} Aristotle combats the state absolutism of Plato.

There are three ultimate forms of government, -- monarchy, aristocracy, and the republic. The best form of government is that which is best suited to the character of the people (Politica, III, 17). Thus, although monarchy is the ideal, the best attainable form seems to be an aristocracy, not of wealth nor of birth but of intellect, -- a true aristocracy, a government of the best.^{103}

D. Poietical Philosophy. Under this head Aristotle treats the theory of art. Art, he teaches, is traceable to the spirit of imitation, and consists in the realization in external form of the true idea, -- a realization which is not limited to mere copying, but extends also to the perfecting of the deficiencies of nature by grouping the individual phenomena under the universal type.^{104} History merely copies; poetry idealizes and completes the work of history: Poetry is more philosophical and more elevated than history.^{105}

Aristotle's analysis of the beautiful is, like Plato's, confined to a study of the objective constituents of beauty. These he reduces to order and grandeur, which are found especially in moral beauty. So vague and indefinite is this analysis that Aristotle was obliged, as we have seen, to base his theory of art on the realization of the essence, without referring art at all to the notion of the beautiful. The aim of art is the calming, purifying, and ennobling of the affections.^{106}

Historical Position. It is difficult to form a true estimate of Aristotle's philosophy, and the difficulty arises, strange as this may seem, from our too great familiarity with many of the notions which Aristotle introduced into human science. The basic ideas of his philosophical system have become the commonplaces of elementary education; they have found their way into the vocabulary of our everyday life, and have impressed themselves indelibly on the literature of Western civilization. The terminology, the invention of which is one of Aristotle's chief titles to preeminence, has become indissolubly associated with the exposition of Christian theology, and forms, so to speak, the alphabet of our catechetical instructions. All this has made it difficult for the modern reader to appreciate the importance of Aristotle's contributions to philosophy. Consueta vilescunt! It is necessary, therefore, to forget how familiar many of Aristotle's discoveries have become, to go back in imagination to the time when they were first enunciated, and in this way to realize, if we can, the breadth and depth of a mind that could succeed in accomplishing such a vast amount original work as to entitle him to be considered the founder of logic, the author of the first treatise on scientific psychology, the first natural historian, and the father of the biological sciences. Placing ourselves at this point of view, we shall be less inclined to single out the undeniable defects of Aristotle's philosophy, finding it a more natural as well as a more congenial to compare Aristotle with his predecessors in the history of Greek speculation.

Aristotle's philosophy is the synthesis and culmination of the speculations of pre-Socratic and Socratic schools. His doctrine of causes is an epitome of all that Greek philosophy had up to time accomplished. But it is especially with Plato, his masr, that Aristotle is to be compared, and it is by his additions Platonic teaching that he is to be judged. Plato built out of the ruins of pre-Socratic speculation a complete metaphysical structure according to a definite plan, -- a structure beautiful in outlines, perfect in its symmetry, but insecure and unstable, like one of those golden palaces of fairyland, which we fear to approach and examine lest it vanish into airy nothingness. Aristotle, on the contrary, drew his plan with a firmer hand; he laid the foundation of his philosophy deep on the rock bottom experience, and although all the joints in the fabric are not equally secure, the care and consistency with which the design is executed are apparent to every observer. It was left for Scholastic philosophy to add the pinnacle to the structure which Aristotle had carried as far towards completion as human thought could build unaided. If Plato has been called the Sublime, Aristotle must be called the Profound, a title which, when applied to a philosopher, should be the expression of higher praise; for

Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop Than when we soar.

{1} For sources, cf. Zeller, Aristotle and the Earlier Peripatetics, Vol. I, p. 2, n.; Wallace, Outlines of the Philosophy of Aristotle, p. 17.

{2} As in Met. I, 9, 992 a.

{3} Noct. Att., XX.

{4} On the derivation of this word, cf. Zeller, op. cit., p. 27, n.

{5} Cf. Wallace, op. cit., pp. 18 ff.

{6} Recent editions of Aristotle's Works: the Berlin edition (5 vols., 1831-1870), which is made the basis of citations; the Didot edition (5 vols., Paris, 1848-1870). For list of translations and secondary sources, cf. Weber, op. cit., p. 104, n., and Ueberweg, op. cit., I, pp. 140 and 152.

{7} Noct. Alt., XX, 5.

{8} It is these that Cicero had in mind when he alluded to "the golden stream of Aristotle's eloquence" (Top., 1,3).

{9} XIII, 1,54.

{10} Sulla, 26.

{11} Met., VI, 1, 1028.

{12} Met., VI, 1, 1025 b, 25.

{13} Cf. Met., VI, 2, 1026 a, 36; V, 8, 1017 a, 24; Phys., V, I, 223 b, 5.

{14} Cf. Stöckl, op. cit., I, 115; English trans., p. 105.

{15} Cf. Anal. Post., II, 19, 99 b.

{16} Met., XIII, 10, 1086 b, 33.

{17} Eth. Nic., VI, ii, 1143 b, 5.

{18} In Anal. Post., I, 11 init., Aristotle substitutes the phrase hen kata pollôn for the Platonic hen para ta polla.

{19} Cf. Met., I, 9, 991 a, 12, 991 b, 1; XIII, 9, 1085 a, 23, etc.; Prantl, Gesch. des. Logik, I, 210 ff.

{20} Cf. De An., II, 4, 415 b.

{21} Cf. Met.. VIII, 6, 1045 a, 12; X, 1, 1052 a, 22.

{22} Cf. infra, p. 138.

{23} Phys., 1, 5, 189 a, 7.

{24} Cf. Anal. Post., I, 13, 81.

{25} Met., IV, 1, 1003 a, 21.

{26} Met., I, 9, 991 b.

{27} Cf. Met., I, 9, 991 b.

{28} Cf. Wallace, op. cit., p. 64.

{29} Cf. Met., XIII, 5, 1079 a, 13.

{30} Op. cit., I, 9, 999 a, 12; VII, 1031 a, 20ff.

{31} Met., V, 1, 1013 a, 18.

{32} Cf. Phys., II, 3, 194 b, 16.

{33} De Gen. et Corr., I, 4, 320 a, 2.

{34} For the origin and meaning of this expression, cf. Ritter and Preller, op. cit., p. 314, note f; also Ueberweg, op. cit., Vol. I, p. 161.

{35} Cf. Met., VII, 7, 1032 b; VIII, 6, 1045 a, 33; X, I, 1052 a, 22.

{36} Phys., I, 7, 191 a, 10.

{37} Cf. op. cit., II, 7, 198 a, 24.

{38} Op. cit., III, 1, 201 a, 10.

{39} De Partibus Animalium, I, 1, 639 b, 11.

{40} Cf. Phys., VIII, I, 252 a.

{41} Cf. op. cit., VIII, 5, 2562..

{42} Cf. Met., XII, 6, 1071 b, 20.

{43} Phys., VIII, 6, 258 b, 12.

{44} Met., XII, 7, 1072.

{45} Cf. In XII^um Met. lect. 7.

{46} Cf. De Vorges in Revue Néoscholastique, 1894, pp. 304 ff.

{47} Cf. Eth. Nic., X, 8, 1178b, 20.

{48} Op. cit., X (8), 9, 1179.

{49} Cf. Phys., VIII, I, 251.

{50} Die Psychologie des Aristoteles (1862) and Ueber den Kreatismus des Aristoteles (1882).

{51} St. Augustine, De Civ. Dei, II, 4; St. Thomas, Summa Theologica, Ia, XLVI, 1.

{52} Cf. Met., IX, 8, 1049b, 10; Phys., VIII, 91 265 a, 11.

{53} Met., XI, 3, 1061 b, 6.

{54} Phys., II, 1, 192 b, 14.

{55} De Coelo, 1, 4, 271 a, 33.

{56} Cf. De Part. An., IV, 2, 677 a, 15.

{57} Phys., II, 8, 199; De Generatione Animalium, IV, 4, 770 b, 9.

{58} Phys., IV, 4, 212 a, 20.

{59} Cf. Met., XI, 10, 1067.

{60} Phys., IV, 11, 219b, 1.

{61} Op. cit., IV, 14, 223 a, 25.

{63} Phys., III, 1, 201 a, 10.

{63} Cf. op. cit., IV, 7, 8, 214, 215.

{64} De Meteoris, I, 3, 339; Phys., VIII, 6, 259.

{65} Cf. Historia Animalium, I, 8, 491, where he says that the hinder part of the skull is empty.

{66} De An., II, 1, 412. 3

{67} De Part. An., IV, 5, 681 a, 12.

{68} Hist. An., II, 502, 8. It is unnecessary to remark that Aristotle has reference merely to the external appearance and the means of locomotion.

{69} Hist. An., I, 6, 491.

{70} De Part. An., IV, 3, 677 b, 14.

{71} De An., II, 1, 412 a, 28.

{72} Op. cit., 1, 4, 408 a, 1.

{73} Op. cit., III, 4, 429 a, 18.

{74} Op. cit., II, 1, 422 b, 8.

{75} De An., II, 2, 413b, 12; 11,3, 414a, 31.

{76} Op. cit., II, 22, 424 a, 18.

{77} De Somno, 2, 454 a, 7.

{78} III, 2, 425 b, 26; for different readings, cf. Rodier, Traité de l'Âme, I, 152.

{79} De An., 11, 6, 418 a, 8.

{80} De Juventute et Senectute, 3, 469 a, 10.

{81} Cf. De Part. An., II, 10.

{82} De An., III, 7, 432 a, 14.

{83} De Memoria et Reminiscentia, 449 b, 31.

{84} De An., II, 5, 417 b, 22.

{85} Op.cit., 111, 4, 429 a, 27, and 429 b, 31.

{86} De An., III, 5, 430 a, 20.

{87} Anal. Post., II, 15, 100.

{88} Wallace (Aristotle's Psychology, p. cvi) says that "the stumb]ing-block which has prevented students from understanding Aristotle's position lies perhaps chiefly in separating the fourth and fifth chapters of the third book (De Anima) from each other, as if Aristotle were speaking of one reason in one chapter and of another in the other." cf. also ibid., pp. cvii ff.; Brentano, Psych. des Arist., p. 180; Rodier, Traité de l'Âme, 2 vols., Paris, 1900; Philosophical Review (May, 1902), Vol. XI, pp. 238 ff.

{89} For summary of the literature on this question, cf. Ritter and Preller, op. cit., p. 543, note f. See also Wallace, Aristotle's Psychology (Introd., pp. xcvii-cxvi). For scholastic commentary on Aristotle's doctrine, ef Sylvester Maurus, Aristotelis Opera (Rome, 1668), Vol. IV, pp. 303 ff.

{90} Cf. De An., III, 4. The chapter is devoted to the study of "that part of the soul whereby it knows and understands." The word chôristos, which there occurs is evidently used in the sense of "free from matter."

{91} De An., I, 4, 408 b, 18.

{92} Op. cit., III, 10, 433 a, 23.

{93} Eth. Nic., III, 7, 1113 b, 21.

{94} Phys., II, 193 b, 22.

{95} Cf. Met., VI, 1, 1025 b.

{96} Eth. Nic., I, 6, 1097.

{97} Eth. Nic., I, 9, 1099 a, 31; V, 2, 1129 b.

{98} Op. cit., II, 6, iio6b, 36.

{99} Cf. Wallace, Outlines, p. 100.

{100} Eth. Nic., V, 1, 1129 a, 26; V, 2, 1130 b, 39.

{101} For distinction between poiêsis and praxis, cf. Zeller, Aristotle, etc., Vol I, p. 182.

{102} Politica, III, 9, 1280 b, 30.

{103} Pol., IV, 7, 1293b, 3. Aristotle (Pol., III, 15, 1286b, 20) admits that a polity in which the collective voice of the people shall hold sovereign power may, owing to the spread of population, become the general form of government.

{104} Eth. Nic., VI, 4, 1140 a, 10.

{105} De Poetica, 9, 1451 a, 44.

{106} Cf. op. cit., 6, 1449 b, 24.