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PRE-SOCRATIC SCHOOLS : a History of Greek 
Philosophy from the Earliest Period to the time of Socrates. 
Translated from the Uerman by SARAH F. ALLEYNE. 2 vols. 
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Translated from the German by 0. J. REICHEL, M.A. 
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from the German by SARAH F. ALLEYXE and A. GOODWIN*. 
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lated from the German by 0. J. RETCHED M.A. Crown 
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SOPHY. Translated from the German by SARAH F. 
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PHILOSOPHY. Translated from the German by SARAH F. 
ALLEYNE and EVELYN ABBOTT. Crown 8vo. 10$. 6d. 


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PHYSICS continued 

C. Living Creatures 

The Soul, 1 . Its relation to the Body, 4. The Body as an Organic 
Whole related to the Soul as Means to End. 10. Stages of Ani 
mate Existence, 21. The Evolution of Organic Life and the 
Law of Analogy, 24.* Indications of life in Inorganic Nature ; 
History of the Earth and Mankind, 29. 

Plants, 33. 

Animals, 37. Their Bodies and the homogeneous materials of which 
they consist, 38. Organs and their Functions, 41. Generation 
and difference of Sex, 48. Sensation, 58. The Five Senses, 62. 
Census Communis, 68. Memory and Imagination, 70. Pleasure 
and Pain, 75. Sleep and Waking, 75. Dreams, 76. Death, 77. 
Scale of Value in animal creation, 78. Classification of animal 
Species, 80. 

PHYSICS continued 


The Human Body, 90. Soul and Reason, 92. Active and Passive 
Reason, 97. Immediate and mediate exercise of Reason, 105. 
Desire and Volition, 108. Practical Reason and Rational Will. 
112. Free Will, Voluntariness, Intention, 114. The question of 
the Unity of the life of the Soul, 119. The Birth of the Soul, 
120. The Union of the Parts of the Soul, 123. The Immortality 
of the Soul, 129. Personality, 134. 



A. Ethics 

The End of Human Activity : Happiness, 138. The essential elements 
of Happiness, 140. External Goods, 144. Pleasure, 146. Value 
of Pleassure, 148. 

Moral Virtue, 153. Virtue as a Quality of the Will distinguished 
from Natural Impulses, 155. Intellectual Insight, 157. The 
Origin of Virtue, 160. The Consent of the virtuous Will: the 
Proper Mean, 161. The Virtues, 163. Courage, Self-control, &c., 
167. Justice, 170. Distributive and Corrective Justice, 171. 
Complete and Incomplete, Natural and Legal Eight ; other dis 
tinctions, 175. The Intellectual Virtues: Insight, 177. The 
right relation to the Passions, 188. 

Friendship: its moral Import, 191. Nature and Kinds of Friend 
ship, 193. Further discussions, 198. 


B. Politics 

Necessity, Nature, and Functions of the State ; Aristotle s Politics, 
203. Ethical import of the State, 207. Aim of the State, 208. 

The Household as element in the State, 213. Husband and Wife, 
214. Parents and Children, 215. Master and Slave, 216. Pro 
duction and Possession, 220. Against Common Property in 
Wives, Children, and Goods, 220. 

The State and the Citizen, 222. Differences among citizens, 229. 
Their political importance, 229. 

Forms of Constitution, 233. Comparative Value and Justification 
of leading forms, 244. Monarchy and Kepublic, 249. 

The Best State, 258. Its natural conditions and economic basis, 
258. Training of the Citizen, 261. Birth and Education, 262. 
Music, 266. Unfinished state of this part of the Politics in 
reference to Intellectual Training, Punishment, &c., 269. The 
Constitution, 272. 

Imperfect Forms, 274. Democracy, 274. Oligarchy, 277. Aristo 
cracy and Polity, 278. Tyranny, 282. The distribution of 
Political Power, Changes in the Constitution, &c. , 283. 


Problem of the Rhetoric, 289. Kinds of Proof, 293. Demonstra 
tion, 294. Different species of Demonstration appropriate to 


different Kinds of Discourse, 295. Remaining forms of Proof, 
296. Style and Arrangement, 297. 


Beauty, 301. Art as Imitation, 303. The effect of Art : Catharsis, 
307. The Arts, 318. Tragedy, 320. 


Aristotle s attitude to Religion, 325. His Theology, 327. Signifi 
cance and Origin of Popular Religion, 330. 


Aristotle s point of view, 336. Development of the System, 338. 
Gaps and Contradictions, 342. Tendency of the Peripatetic 
School, 346 


His Life, 348. Writings, 351. Standpoint, 355. Logic, 358. Meta 
physics: Aporise, 364. Theology, 369. Physics: Nature in 
general ; Inorganic Nature, 373. Structure and history of the 
World, 379. Botanical Theory, 381. Nature of Vegetable life, 
383. Parts of Plants, 384. Origin of Plants, 385. Classification, 
388. Zoology, 389. Anthropology: the Soul as cause of move 
ment, 390. Reason, Active and Passive, 392. Higher and lower 
parts of. the Soul, 395. The Senses, 396. The Freedom of the 
Will, 399. Ethics, 399. Happiness, 402. Views on other points 
of ethical doctrine, 406. Politics, 410. Religious views, 412. 
Rhetoric and Theory of Fine Art, 414. 


Eudemus, 417. Logic, 418. Physics, 419. Metaphysics, 421. 
Ethics: Virtue as a divine gift, 422. Theology, 424. Uprightness, 
426. Other peculiarities of Eudemian ethics, 427. 

Aristoxenus, 429. Ethical views, 431. Theory of Music, 433. Of 
the Soul, 436 
VOL. ii. a 


Dicasarchus : Anthropology, 438. The practical and the theoretic 

life, 440. Politics, 441. 
Phanias, Clearchus, and others, 443. 


Demetrius of Phalerus and others, 447. 

Strato, -150. Logic and Ontology, 454. Nature and Deity, 456, 

Physical principles : Heat and Cold, 456. Gravity, Vacuum, 

Time, Motion, 458. Cosmology. 464. Anthropology, 466. 



Lyco, 474. Hieronymus, 475. Aristo, 477. Critolaus, 479. Phor- 

mio, Sotion, &c., 483. 
Pseudo-Aristotelian Literature, 494. Logical, Metaphysical, Physical 

Writings, 495. The Marjna, Moralia, 498. The Economics, 45)8. 

The Rhetoric addressed to Alexander, 499. Conclusion, 499. 


INDEX 509 

Addenda and Corrigenda. 

Tage 5, n. 2, col. 2, 1. 10, for cut read cut in pieces 

6,1. 8, for alien read allied 

61,1. 5, for force read faculty 

90, n. col. 1, 1. 19, for whole read whale 
111, n. 3, col. 2, 11. 2, 7, for cylinders read springs 

147, n. col. 1, 1. 16,/or these last, however, are merely causes read the satisfaction 

of a want, moreover, is merely the cause 

,, 152, 11. 1, col. 1, 1. 3, omit wrong 

., 171, 1. 7, for quality read equality 

172, n. 2, col. 2, 1. 3 from bottom, after things read that 

178, 1. 4, for moral insight read moral virtue 

182, n. col. 1, 1. 6, for p. 182 read p. 1 83 

184, n. col. 2, 1. 10 from bottom, for picture read future 

195, n. 4, col. 1, 1. 4 from bottom, /or 3 on preceding page read 2 snj>ra 

196, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 3, for pupil read audience 

204, n. 2, col. 2, 1. 5 from bottom, for p. 203 supra, read Appendix, p. 507. 

231, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 9,/or finds itself more at home read exercises more influence 

242, 1. 10, for indispensable read indisputable 

243, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 6, for chiefly read nearly 

245, 1. I, for But even any one of such advantages as these confers read But even 

such advantages as these confer of themselves no title to rule in the State. 

259, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 8, for size read greatness 

267, n. col. 1, 1. 9, omit or 

274, 1. 8, for or form, differing read or from differing 

292, 1. 9, for But as he regards . . . sense read Since, however, proof is the chief 

end in view 

322, n. col. 1, 1. 8 from bottom, for added read not added 

324, n. 5, col. 1, 1. 11, omit vol. i. 

325, 11. 1, 3, for section read chapter 
n. 2, col. 2, 1. 5, before p. 291 read vol. ii. 

327, 1. 6,/or scientific read theoretic 
last line, omit and 

., 331, n. 2, col. 1, 1. 2 from bottom, for /nar/eta read /xai/reia 

:i35, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 10,/or in chap. i. read vol. i. pp. 5, n. 7; 20, n. 2 ; 38, n. 

339, 1. 9, for motion read matter 
1. 10,/or relation read relationship 

375, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 9,/o?* Melinus read Melissus 

382, 1. 6 from bottom, for geological read zoological 


The following references are to Vol. i. : Vol. ii. p. 159, n. 2, col. 1, 1. 8 ; 180, u. 2, 
col. 2, 1. 2 ; 181, n. col. 2, 1. 1, and 1. 11 from bottom ; 182, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 6 from 
bottom ; 204, n. 2, col. 1, 11. 3 and 10, and 1. 2 from bottom ; 206, n. 4, col. 2, ]. 3 from 
bottom; 219, n. 3, col. 1, 1. 4 from bottom ; 236, u. col. 1, 1. 10 from bottom ; 267, 
n. col. 1, 1. 10 ; 292, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 10 ; 302, n. 1, col. 1, 11. 6, 12 ; 331, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 1 ; 
332, n. 1, col. 1, 1. 1 ; 343, n. 2, col. 2, 1. 1 ; 349, n. 3, col. 2, 1. 1 from bottom. 






Living Creatures 

1 . The Suul and Life 

WHAT distinguishes living creatures from all others is 
the Soul. 1 All life, in fact, consists in the power of self- 
movement, 2 that is, in a capacity inherent in a being of 
effecting changes in itself: the simplest form of which 
is confined, as in the case of plants, to nutrition, growth, 
and decay. 3 But every movement implies two elements 

1 De An. i. 1, 407, a, 4 : the fwirapxy fj.6vov t fiv avr6 <pa/, 
investigation into the nature of diov vovs, a to-Qricris, Kivrjffis Kal 
the soul is of the highest value ardffis rj Kara TCTTOV, ert Kivnffis ^ 
for science, fJ.d\i<jTa 5e irpus T?V Kara rpocpTiv Kal (pdiais rf Kal 
(pv<nv fffTt yap olov apx^l ruv aij^ijtris. Sib Kal ra (pv6fj.fva irdvra 
^ytcv \_rj ^UXTJ]. 5o/ce? tjv <f>aivTai yap 4v avrots 

2 Ibid. ii. ], 412, b, 16, cl. a, Ixofra 8vvafji.iv Kal opX ^ foiavrriv, 
27, and see infra,. Si ^s av^ffiv re Kal (pdiffiv Aa/4- 

3 Ibid. ii. 2, 413, a, 20 : \eyo- fidvovo-i . . . owSe^iio yap avrols 
fjitv obv . . . Siwpi(r6ai rb efj.tyvxuv uTrap^et Svva/ a\\f] fyvxr)s. As 
TOV atyuxov r$ frji.; irAeoraxws 5e this lowest form of life presents 
rot- fjv Ae7o^eVoi, Kav tV n TOVTWV itself wherever the higher is (see 



something that moves, and something that is moved : 
form and matter; and if a thing moves itself, it must 
contain this duality within itself. 1 Hence every being 
that has life must be a compound being ; and if we ca.ll 
the material part, which is subject to motion, the body, 
it will follow that the form, which is the cause of 
motion, has a being separate from and independent of 
the body. 2 And as the form in general is identified with 
the efficient and the final cause, this being may also be 
said to be the final aim or end of the body. 3 The form 
thus considered as motive or efficient force is called by 
Aristotle Entelechv ; 4 and hence he defines the Soul as 

infra) it may be treated as the 
universal mark of a living thing ; 


c. 1, 412, a, 13 : rwv Se 
[sc. ff(a/u.dr<i0v~] TO. fjCev ex l 
Ae yo- 

a> TO. OVK exet 
/j.ev r^\v 81 avrov 
r Kal avr)ffiis /ecu (f>&i(rii>. 

On the 

other hand, T)e An. i. 2, 403, b, 
25 (TO f/JL\fyvxov 877 rov atyvxov 
/j.d\icrra Sia<pfpfLV So/eel, 
re Kal rw alaBdveodai), ex 
presses merely the popular view, 
not the technical definition, of 

1 See p. 4, n. 1, infra. 

- DC An. ii. 1, 412, a, 15: 

ttHTTf TTO.V aW/AO, (pVOLKbv jUeTt xOJ/ 

^CUTJS ovff a &^ elf?;, ovfffa 5 OUT cos o>s 
trvvQ&rri eVel 8 eVri ffco/J.a roiovfie 

[TEBNDBLBNBUBG : aufj.a Kal 

roiovtii; TORSTRIK: Kai a. rotdj/Se], 

v|/iX 7. ov yap fffri TWV /ca0 UTTO- 
Kfi;j.fvov rb (r&fjia, fj.a\\ov 8 us 
Kal V\~TI. avayKa iOv apa 
?z> oi ff iav e?z/at ws 

Part. An. i. 1, 641, a, 
li-32; Gen. An. ii. 4, 738, b, 26; 

Mciapli. viii. 3, 1043, a, 35. Ari 
stotle had already described the 
soul in the Eudemus as eTSds ri ; 
see i. 383 sq., supra. 

3 l)e An. ii. 4, 415, b, 7, where 
after the passage quoted,!. 356, n. 
1, sup., he goes on, 1. 12: 
&s ovffia [sc. air la fffrlv 
S?i\oi> TO yap cCinov TOV eli/at 
iraffiv 77 ovffia, rb 8e fjv rots ^wffi 
rb tivai fffriv, atria 8e Kal a 
rovrwv 77 ^vx"f]. fTt TOV 
UVTOS \6yos ?j eVTcAe xeia. 
8 cbs wal ou eVe/cej/ 77 i|/vx^ atria 
wcrirtp yap 6 vovs eVeKa TOU Trote?, 
TO* avrbv rpoTTov 77 <pv(Tis, Kal rovr 
fffriv avrjj TeAoy. roiovrov 8 eV 
ToTs ^V s ^ ^^X 7 ^ lfa * [-J KOTOt 
(f>v<Tif iravra yap TO (pvcriKa mo- 
/nara TTJS I//UX 7 ! 5 i*p7 at/a . is 
eVe/co TT)J tyvxris ovra. He then 
goes on to show, what is a matter 
of course, that the soul is an 
efficient cause. Part. An. i. 1, 
641, a, 25 : the ovffia is both effi 
cient and final cause ; roiovrov 8e 
TOU fyov f/Toi iruffa 77 

4 Cf. i. 379, supra. 

the Entelechy, or more accurately as the First Entelechy, 
of a natural body endowed with the capacity of life. 1 
This again applies to none but organic bodies, the 
members of which are designed for some definite pur 
pose and serve as instruments for the fulfilment of 
special functions. 2 The Soul accordingly is the First 

1 DC An. ii. 1, Aristotle pro 
ceeds : ^ 8 ovffia eVTeAe ^eta [the 
form is the efficient force]. 
TOIOVTOV apa o~w/j.aTOs eVTeAe^eta. 
The expression entelecheia has, 
however, a double sense : at one 
time it is the power of action 
that is understood by it ; at 
another, the activity itself (the 
standing example of the former 
meaning is eViim^, of the latter, 
QecapeTv; see ibid., and cf . Me.taph. 
ix. 6, ]048, a, 34 ; Pliys. viii. 4, 255, 
a, 33; DC Sensu, 4, 441, b, 22; 
(fen. An. ii. 1, 735, a, ( J ; TREN- 
DELENBURU, De An. 314 sq. ; 
BONITZ, Arist. Mctapli. ii. 3 ( Ji). 
The soul can be called entele- 
cheia only in the former sense 
(that of the power), seeing that 
it is present even in sleep ; this 
is what is meant by the addition 
>/, when in 1. 27 it is said : 

TOS, for the power always pre 
cedes the activity. 

- Aristotle proceeds, 1. 28 : 
TOIOVTO 8e [so. St/voyuej fayv *X: OI/ 1> 
o &> ^ bpyaviKbv, adding that the- 
parts of plants also are organs, 
though very simple ones (cf. 
Part. An. ii. 10, G55, b, 37). On 
the definition of organic life cf. 
the passage quoted by TRENDE- 
LENBUKG in loco ; Part. An. i. 1, 
642, a, 1) : as the axe to fulfil 
its purpose must be hard, UVTWS 
/cat tVei ri aiauLa upyat- uv 

TIVOS yap fKacrrov TUI> /uopiuv, 
opoiws 5e /fat rJ oAor) aj/a^/CTj &pa 
TOiovSl e?i/at Kai tn rotwvSl, et e/ce?i/o 
eo-rat. Ibid. i. 5, G45, b, H : eVel 
Se rb /j.fv opyavov irav 4Ve/cct TOV, TO 
5 ov cVe/ca trpa^is ns, fyavtpbv on 
KO.\ TO crvvoXov <rw/j.a tnWo TTjKe 
irpd^tos TWOS ej/e/ca ir\r]povs. As 
the saw exists for the sake of 
sawing, so TO aca/md ircas Trjs ^UXTJS 
ei/e/cei/, /cat TO, /Aopia TWV epywv irpbs 
& Tre^u/cef e/caa-rov. Jlrld. ii. 1, 
G46, b, 10 sqq.: of the constitu 
ent parts of living things some 
are homogeneous, others hetero 
geneous (see i. 517, n. G, wi/pra} ; 
the former, however, exist for the 
sake of the latter; e/fetVcoi/ [sc. 
Ttav a.vofj(oio^.f:pu>v~^ yap Hpya nal 
irpdeis etViV . . . Sioirep ef CKTTUV 
Kai vsvpwv &c. (rwfo-Tr)Ka(TL TO. 
bpyaviKo. TWI> popiuv. Ibid. ii. 10, 
G55, b, 37 : plants have only a 
few heterogeneous parts ; Tr^oi- 
yap o\iyas irpdeis b\iyiav bpydvuv 
T; xwvi-s- The organic parts of 
the body, therefore, are those 
which serve a definite purpose : 
for this use of the word see, e.g. 
(fen. An. ii. 4, 731), b, 14: TO IS 
opyaviKo is irpus rijv crvvovaiav 
/.Lopiois. Ing/\ An. 4, 705, b, 22 : 
orra yap bpyavmo is /u.fpfo~t xpw- 
/ifcj-a (\4yu> 8 olov trofflv ?) irjfpv^iv 
i} TIVI aAAw ToiovTii)) TIJV flpri/ rjv 
p.tTafio\T)v [locomotion] Troiflrat. 
. . . ocra 8e IJ.TJ TOIOVTQIS popiois, 
avry e Ttt) owf.La.Ti bia\r]\l/tis 
iroiovfj.fl/a Tr^ot/j^tTut. All the 



Entelecliy of a Natural Organic Body. 1 This definition 
does not, indeed, apply to the higher portion of the 
Soul, which in the human spirit is added to its other 
parts. With this, however, Natural Philosophy has 
nothing to do : it is rather the subject-matter of the 
First Philosophy. 2 

The soul, considered as the form and moving prin 
ciple of the body, must itself be incorporeal ; 3 and here 
Aristotle contradicts the interpreters of his theory who 
represent it as being material in nature. It does not 
move itself, as Plato thought, for then it would be a 
motu Di as well as a wovens, and every motum exists in 
space. 1 Nor is it a harmony of its own body ; 5 for such 
a harmony would be either a union or a proportionate 
mixture of different materials, and the soul is neither 
one nor the other : the notion of harmony is better 
suited to physical conditions, such as health, than to 
the soul. f) Again, it is not a number that moves itself, 

parts of a living body, however, 

serve some active purpose. Ue An. i. 3, 401, a, 21, c. -1, 

1 DC An. ii. 1, 412, b, 4 : ei 408, a, 30 sqq. The further 

5rj n Koivbv eiri ira<rr}s vf/i/x^s Set" reasons that are urged against 

htytiv, etrj &j/ eVreAe ^eta 77 irpwrr) this view we must here pass over. 

oo^iaToy (pvffLKov opyavLKov, and a On (he Platonic conception of a 

similar definition is given, 1. 1) world-soul see i. 459. n. 5, mpra. 

sqq.: it is the \6yos [or the otVia 5 On this assumption, cf. 

Kara rov \6yov] <rdc/iiaros <$>V<TIKOV ZELLER, Pll. d. Gr. i. 413. 

roiovbl (x VTOS v-PWv Kwr^atws KCU ti _L)c An. i. 4 init. 408, a, 30, 

(rrarrews tV eauToS. where this conclusion is sup- 

- See on this subject Purl, ported with further arguments, cf. 

An. ii. 1, 641, a, 17-b. 10: PHILOP. De An. E, 2, in, (Ar. Fr. 

cf . De An. i. 1. 403, a, 27, b/J 1L): Kexpyrai Se xa.1 avrbs 6 

sqq., ii. 2, 413, b, 24. ApitrroTeXris . . . eV rq3 Ev8fi/j.(f) 

3 See p. 2, n. 2. siijtra. Dt r<f 8ia\6-ya> bvo tiri^ip h^^ffi rav- 

Jttrent. 1, 467, b, 14: SfjAoy ort rots. pia. ^v ovrws TT) apuov q, 

ovx iu v T tlvai (Tuj/xa rT]V ovrriav (piirrlv, tirri n ti/ui/TiW, 77 avap- 

avrijs [i Tjs \^V\TJS J, oAA. o/iuos on 7 fioffrla rij 5t fyvxy ovbev Ivwriov 

tV Tin TOV (Tujuaros inrdpxti /xo^t y, OVK. apa i) ^f^ ? b-pfJLOv a tarlv , . . 


for it does not move itself, and if it were a number it 
certainly could not do so. 1 It is not some one sort of 
material, as Democritus thought, nor a mixture of all 
materials, as Empedocles held : 2 for if it were a mate 
rial it could not spread through all parts of the body, 3 
since two bodies cannot coexist in the same space ; and 
if the soul must contain all materials, in order that it 
may be able to perceive them all, the same argument 
would oblige us to ascribe to it all combinations of 
materials in order that it may know all. We cannot 
identify it with the air we breathe, since all living crea 
tures do not breathe. 4 Nor is it diffused through nil sorts 
of matter/ 5 since simple bodies are not living creatures. 
The soul, then, is not in any sense corporeal, 

PJi. (1. Gr. i. 807 sq. ; on the latter, 
De An. i. 5, 409, b, 23 sqq. c. 2, 
404, b, 8, Ph. d. Gr. i. 725. Only 
one of Aristotle s many objections 
to the theory of Empedocles is 
here given. 

3 As it is obvious that the 
nutritive and sensitive soul at 
least does, from the fact that 
when a plant or an animal is cut, 
life remains in all parts alike so 
long as its organic conditions are 
present; De An. i. 5, 411, b. 19, 
ii. 2, 413, b, 13 ; cf. i. 4, 409, a, 
9: Lonf/lt. V. 6, 4(57, a, 18 ; JUT. 
vi Sen. 2, 4G8, b, 2 sqq. 483. 

1 De An. i. 5, 410, b, 27. 

5 Aristotle attributes this 
view first to Thales, but identities 
it specially with Diogenes of 
Apollonia and Heraclitus ; cf . 
De An. i. 5, 411, a, 7 sqq. ; also 
c. 2, 405, a, 19 sqq. and ZELL. 
Ph. d.Gr. i. pp. 178, 2 ; 238 : 240 : 
:>S7, 2 ; C-42 t-q. 

Se Ttj ap/j.ovia, (pricrl, TOV 
avTiov fffrlv T] avap/jLoaria 
TOV o~u>(jLaTO? avap/nocrria Se TOV 
ffj.\l/i>XOv ffu/naTos voffos Kal dtrfleVeta 
/cat alffxos. S)v T& ^kv affv/ 

eVrt TUiV (TTOL-^fiwV 7] VOffOS, T& Se 

TCCV 6/j,oio/j.pctJV r/ affOfVfia, Tb Se 
Twv opyaviK&v rb alamos. [On this, 
however, see i. 517, n. 6, sujtraJ^ 
ft Toivvv >? avapfjiOffTla v6<ros /cat 
d(T9eveia Kal alamos, f) apfj-ovia apa 
vyeia Kal tV%i/s /cat /caAAos. tywxfr 
Se ouSeV eo"Tt TOVTWV, OVTG vyia 

(f>r)/jCl OVTC Ivxys ovre /caAAoy 
yap eT^ej/ /cat 6 @epo"tT7js 
&v. OVK apa fcrrlif rj 
/cat raura ^iei/ eV e /cefj/ots. THEMIST. 
De An. 44 sp. ; SIMPL. DC An. 
14, a, o, and OLYMPIODOBUS in 
Ph(pd. p. 142, also mention this 
argument from the Eudcmus. 

1 Ibid. 408, b, 32 sqq. ; cf. 
ZELL. Ph. d. Gr. i. 871, 2. 

On the former of these 
views see De An. i. "> in it. c. :>, 
406, b, 15 sqq, c. 2, 403, b, 28, and 


rov ffct>/J.aros, T) jue prj rivd avrfjs, el 

/jLpl<Trl) TT(pVKV, OVK oSTjAoi/ . . . 

ov juV AA ez/ta ye ovOev /co>Auet, 
Sta rb |U7?0ei/os e7j>at cru>fj.aros 4vre- 
Aexeias. Cf. Gen. An. ii. 3, 736, 
b, 22 sqq. 737, a, 7 sqq. and p. 
4, n. 3, supra, and p. 8, n. 1, infra. 
- The principal passage upon 
the subject is 6 en. An. ii. P>, 736, 
b, 29 : Trdffrjs fjCfv ovv ^U^TJS 
erepov o~w/j.aros HOIK* /ce/cotj/wi/7]/ceVat 

/Cat QflOrepOV rttlV Ka\OV/J,fV(i>V 

aroix* i-tov a>s Se $ia<f)epov(ri nuto- 
rrjTi at ^u^ot Kal dri/mia aAAifjAa)!/, 
ovrca /cat f) roiavrrj Stac/>epet (pixris. 
Travruv fj.fv yap eV T<J? a"irep/u,aTt 
fvvrrdpxei, o-rrep Trote? yoviu.a. Hvai 
ra ffirep/uaTa, rb Ka\ov/j.voi> 8ep/m6v. 
TOVTO 5 ov Trvp oi5e ToiavTf] 
effriv, a AAa rb t 
ev Tj5 a"JTpfj.aTi Kal 
irvev/uia Kal f) ev Ttf Trj/ei^aTt fyvffis, 
dvaKoyov ofxra T$ TU>V affrpwv 
(TToix^iv- It is not fire but heat, 
whether of the sun orof animals, 
that generates life, rd Se rf)s 
701/775 (Tw/aa, fv & ffvva.Trfpx^TO.1 rb 
<rirep/ui.a rb r-?is ^UXLKTIS dpxys, rb 

and none of the attributes peculiar to corporeal sub 
stances can be ascribed to it. On the other hand, it 
cannot exist without a body. 1 Aristotle is even anxious 
to indicate the particular matter in which it resides, 
and which it carries with it as it passes from one being 
to another in the process of procreation. This he 
describes at one time as Caloric (Osppov), at another as 
Pneuma, regarding it as alien to the aether, and of a 
higher nature than the four elements ; but he is wholly 
unable to give any clear account of its qualities, or 
to harmonise this conception with the general teaching 
of the Physics? The only right view is that the soul is 

J-JO -. 1. 11* 11. 1, TilOj Jl, i * OTl JU6J/ "y(f)pl(TTOV ^)V (TUtLLCLTOS O(TOiS 

p.ev ovv OVK fffnv 77 ^y%^/ X Cl) P t < rT ^ f/J.irepihafj./3dvfrai rb 0etoi/ (roiovros 

o" fffrlv 6 Ka\ov/j.fvos vovs), rb 8 
dx(*>pi<TTOv, rovro rb o-irpu.a [with 
WlMMER read o~a>[Md] rr/s yovys 
StaAueTot /cat irisv/u.urovrai (pvo~iv 
^X ov vypdv Kal 7rj/u/xaTw57j. As 
the material in which the soul 
resides is here expressly distin 
guished from the elements, it is 
naturally thought of as aither, 
which elsewhere (see i. 476, n. 2, 
and 477, n. I, supra) is described in 
almost identical terms. But on the 
other hand the rather is neither 
hot nor cold, nor as the element 
of the immutable spheres can it 
ever enter the region of the 
earthly changes of birth and 
death (see i. 473 sq. supra, and 
the admirable discussion in 
MEYER S Arist. Tkierk. 409 sqq.). 
Even if, relying upon De Cado, 
i. 2, 269, a, 7 (on which, however, 
see i. 474, n. 1, supra), we suppose 
(with KAMPE, Erkenntnisstk. (L 
Ar. 23) that it is forcibly injected 
into the organic germ, the ques 
tion would still remain how we 
are to explain such a process 


the form of its body, since the form cannot exist with 
out the matter to which it belongs, and yet it is not 

and how the evolution which 
we must ascribe to the ffirfp^a 
TTJS \|/ux KT?s apx^s, whether we 
take Sia\veff6ai as referring to 
the germ itself or only to the 
701/7), is consistent with the 
immutability of the aether (i. 476, 
supra}. The material in question, 
moreover, is never described as 
rether. It is merely compared 
with it. Nor, indeed, does Ari 
stotle ever speak of an ethereal 
matter, but only of vital heat 
and vital breath, as residing in 
the body. Similarly ^Zte Vila; 
4, 469, b, 6 : irdvra Se ra /j.6pia 

TIVO. ffl>/J,<pVTOV 0ep/U.O / T7JTa (pVfflKTiV 

whence the heat of the living, 

the coldness of the dead, body. iov Sr; ravrrjs rijv dpxh v T *? s 

0ep/xoVrjTOS eV rrj /capS.a TO?S 

eVai juois flvai, TO?S 5 dvalfiOis eV 

" " dvo-Xoyov epyd&rai yap Kal ,-., T , v . . . 

v KOIVUVOVV avTT)s. When, there 
fore, through old age the lungs 
(correspondingly the gills) grow 
dry and stiff, the fire (i.e. the 
vital heat) gradually dies away 
and is easily put out altogether. 
Sib yap rb bXiyov elvai rb dep/J-bv, 
are rov irXt .arov SiaireTrvevKoros 
sv TCO TrA^/^e: TTJS fays, . Toxews 

/ j i 1 -H 

aircxTpevvvrat. L)& All. H. Jill. . 
epydfcrai Se TTt)V irtyiv rb Qep[J.6v : 

Gen. An. ii. 1, 732, a, 18: the 
higher animals are larger ; rovro 
S OVK avev 0p,uoTrjros vJ/ux K^- 
c. 6, 743, a, 26: rj 5e Qep^TTjs 

ri&paTi. 744, a, 29 : man has the 
purest flepjiiOTTjs ei/ rfj /capStct. 
Cf. Gen. An. ii. 4, 740, b, 29: 
the nutritive power of the soul 
forms and feeds plants and ani- 

and motion, iii. 5, 667, b, 26 : 
r}]v rov Bep/j.ov apxV avayKalov eV 
T auTaJ r6iru> [as the sensitive 
soul] fivai. De liesplr. c. 8, 474, 
a, 25, b, 10: rb ^v Kal f) rrjs 
\l/vx^s e|ts /xeTa flep^oVrjTOS Ttvos 
<rriv . . . irvpl yap epydferai irdvra. 
This heat resides in the heart. 
The other faculties of the soul 
cannot exist without the nutri 
tive, nor the nutritive &vev TOV (pv- 
ffiKOv Trvpos eV rovrcf yap 77 (pvffis 
/j.ireirvpVKev avr^v. C. 13, 477, 
a, 16 : the higher animals have 
more heat ; a^ua yap avayK-r) Kal 
\l/vx^l s TeTux 1 ? <:e/I/at rt/j,i(arpas. c. 
16, 478, a, 28 : all animals require 
cooling 8ta TT> eV rrj /capSfa rr]s 
"^vvrts 6jU7rupcoo*ii . C. ^1 ini^t. . 
TOV 0epuoD, iv <p T] apxfy "H OptirriKr) 
(which, 480, b, 1, is also called 
?rup). IHd. c. 17, 479, a, 7 sqq. : 
the apx^? TTJS fays gives out b Tav 

dXiffra 8e rb 
With the heat of the heart life 
too becomes extinct, 5ia TO r^v 

vaQcu TTCLCTL, Kal 

f/j.irirvpfv/j.fvns ev TOIS popiois 
rovrois [the heart is as it were 
the hearth on which the soul s 
fire burns] . . . avdyirn TO IVVV 
ajua TO re rjv virdpx iv Ka ^ T / I/ T0 ^ 
Oep/jiov rovrov (rear tip ay, Kal rbi/ 
Ka\ov/j.evov ddvarov eTrat T^VTOVTOV 
(peopdv. Part. A)i. ii. 3, 650, a, 
2 : as it is only by heat that food 
can be digested, all plants and 
animals require an apxr) Ofp^ov 
Qva-iK-f]. c. 7, 652, a, 7 sqq. : the 
soul is not fire but resides in a 
fiery body, heat being its chief 
instrument in the performance 
of its functions of nourishment 


itself material. 1 This enables us to answer the question 
about the unity of soul and body. Their relation to 
one another is just the same as that which subsists 

mals, xpw^vi] olov opydvois 6cpfj.6- 
TijTt Kal ^VXP^TTJTI. According to 
Gen. An. iii. 11 (see i. 460, n. 3, 
supra) the vital heat resides in 
the Trvfvfjia, the apx^i r v tfVfitfJMTOS 
(De Somno, 2, 456, a, 7) in the 
heart, from which all animal 
heat proceeds ; in those animals 
which have no heart, eV T$ 
o.vd\oyov rb av^wrov Trvev/j.a 
avafyvawiAfvov Kal ffvvi^dvov Qai- 
verai (ibid. 1. 11). This jrvfvfj.a 
trv/j.<j)VTov, which is a natural and 
inlierent property, not an external 
adjunct, of animals, is frequently 
mentioned, as in Gen. An. ii. 6, 
744, a, 3, v. 2, 781, a, 23 (ZELLER, 
Ph. d. 6V. i. 16, 659, b, 1 7), where 
we are told that it pervades the 
channels of hearing and smell, and 
is the medium by which sounds 
and smells are conveyed to their 
respective senses ; Par/ . An. iii. 
6, 669, a, I, where it is said that 
in the case of bloodless animals, 
which have less internal heat 
and do not require to breathe, 
the TTvev/jLa ffvfjifyvTov is sufficient 
for purposes of cooling. As, how 
ever, according to the above, it 
is also the seat of animal heat, 
the phrase must be understood in 
the sense explained in Resplr. 9, 
474, b, 31 sqq., to mean that 
cooling, in the case of such non- 
respirating animals as require 
more than that caused by the air 
or water that surrounds them, is 
produced by the expansion and 
contraction of the Tn/eD^a enfyvrov, 
which in turn, by setting in 
motion the abdominal membrane 
which pi oduces, #.//., the chirp of 
the cricket, causes it to act as a 

fan (for this is the sense in 
which we must understand 475, 
a, 11, 669, b, 1). Beside these 
passages, the statement in Gen. 
An. ii. 3, stands rather isolated. 
Granting that the o-w/xa 6ei6repoi> 
ru>v <noixe{<av there spoken of is 
distinguished from the Tn/eG/ta in 
which it resides (r) eV T Tri/ei^icm 
(pvffis), it is j et hardly possible 
to attribute to it an rethereal 
nature. The truth seems rather 
to be that Aristotle here feels a 
want which his philosophy as a 
whole does not enable him to 
supply. The writer of the 
spurious treatise TT. nj/efytaros 
discusses the nature of the 
Tn>fv/j.a e/u.<pvTov, though he by no 
means confines himself to this 
subject. Tie gives no indication, 
however, of the view he held of 
its material character. The ques 
tion of the relation of Aristotle s 
assumptions with regard to the 
irvtvfjLa. to his doctrine of the 
Nous is for later discussion (see 
Ch. XT. on the Keason, infra}. 

1 See p. 2, n. 2, supra, and 
Metcipli. vii. 10, 1035, b, 14 : eVei 
5e i] TUV ^(f(av ^VXT) (jovro yap 
ovffia rov e^ipu^ou) f) Kara TIJ> 
\6yov ovcria Kal rb e?8os /cat rb ri 
fy flvai T Toi5e (TcafMari. c. 11, 
1037, a, 5 : the body is the v\rj, 
the soul the ovo-ia ?; irpwri]. viii. 3, 
1043, a, 35. De An. ii. 2, 414, a, 
1 2 : as the form is everywhere 
distinguished from the matter 
which receives it, so is the soul 
TOVTO & ^uei/ Kal alaQavo/jLtQa Kal 
8tavoovfj.0a irpwrcas, uxrrf \6yos ris 
av eirj Kal el&os, a\\ ov% vKt] Kal 
j o// T/nx<^ yap Af- 


between form and matter. 1 To ask whether soul and 
body are one, is just as ridiculous as to ask whether 
the wax and the form impressed upon it are one. They 
are and they are not : they are separable in thought, 
inseparable in reality. 2 Life is not a combination of 
soul and body, 3 and the living being is not some 
thing joined together of these two parts ; 4 but the 
soul is the active force that operates in the body, or, if 
you will, the body is the natural organ of the soul. We 
cannot separate them any more than we can separate 
the eye and eyesight. 5 None but a living body deserves 
the name of body, 6 and a particular soul can only exist 
in its own particular body. 7 Therefore the Pythagorean 

yo/J.ei>T]s TT)S ovcrias, KaOdirep e 
S>v TO ( cTSos, TO 5e U ATJ, TO 5e e 
ufjifyolv rovrwv 5 fj juei/ v\i] 8vva- 
pis, TO Se cTSos eVreAe ^eta eirel Se 
TO e| aptyoiv f/J.^vxov, ov rb ffw/md 
(TTiv eVreAe^eta ityvxys, aAA ai/rrj 
<Tu/j.ar6s TWOS. Kal Siarovro KaAws 
vTTO\a/J.I3di>ov<nv, oTs 5o/ce? JU-^T &vev 

(TW/JiaTOS flvat jU7JT6 <TO>/J.d Tt T] 

fyvxh- (Tupa /J.GV yap OVK eo"Tt, 
(TufMaros Se rt. DC An. ii. 1, 412, 
b, 11 sqq. thus illustrates: if the 
axe were a creature, its nature as 
an axe would be its soul ; if the 
eye were a separate being-, its 
eyesight (ttyts) would be its soul, 
avTt) yap ov<ria o(f>6a\/J.ov y Kara 
rbv \6yov. 6 8 otyOaA/jibs v\rf 
oif/fws, 7)S airoXfnrovffijs OVK tffTiv 
o<f>ea\/j.6s. The soul is to the body 
as sight is to the ej*e. 

1 See i. 351, n. 1, supra. 

* De An. ii. 1, 412, b, G : the 
soul is the entelecheia of an 
organic body. 5ih /cat ou Se? farfiv 

ft fV T) ^ U X^ K( d r ^ G&l*- ", &O"Tp 

ouSe rl>v Kiipbv Kal rb (TXTj^ia, oi5 
fKacrrov V\T\V Kal rb ovv\t). 

3 As perhaps the Platonists 
defined it, consistently with the 
account of death in PTiatdo, G4, c. 

4 Metaph. viii. G, 1045, b, 11. 
Top. vi. 14 i nit. : Cfjv and the &ov 
are not a (rvv9eais /} (rvvSeo-^os of 
soul and body. 

5 De An. ii. 1,413, a, 1 : o>s 5J 
T\ u^/ts Kal T] Svi/a/JLis rov opydvov T] 
\l/v%-fi [sc. VTf\ex fia t T I/ ] T ^ 
5e rrw/J.a ru 5uj/a^ei or aAA uxrirfp 
6 b(j)&a\iJLbs T) K6pr] Kal ri fyis, /ca/cef 

fbid. 412, b, 11, 20, 2f>. 
Part. An. i. 1 , 640, b, 33 sqq. 041 , 
a, 18. Gen. An. ii. 5, 741, a, 10. 
Meteor, iv. 12, 389, b, 31, 390, a, 
10. Metaph. vii. 10, 1035, b, 24. 

7 De An. ii. 2, 414, a, 21 (fol 
lowing on the passage quoted p. 8, 
n . 1 , supra) : Kal Sia TOVTO eV ffw^a-ri 
v-rrdpxei, Kal fv cru>iJ.aTi TOIOVTQ, Kal 
oi>x w(T7r6p of Trporepov els (Ta>/^a 
fVT]pfJio^ov avrr)V, ovQev irpoffSiopi- 
oi>TS eV TtVt Kal TroiCfj, Kaiirep oi/Se 
(paivofj.ei>ov rov rvxovros Sexetrflat 
rb T\)\QV. o JT(t) 8e yivtrai Kal Kara 
\6yov eKaffrov yap rj 



notion of one soul passing through bodies of the most 
various sorts is just as absurd as if one should imagine 
that one and the same art could use tools of the most 
various kinds indifferently that a flute, for example, 
could be of the same use to a carpenter as an axe. 1 

The true essence of everything is its form, and the 
essence of everything that comes into being is its 
purpose or end. 2 Living creatures are no exception to 
this law. Every living creature is a little world, a whole, 
the parts of which subserve as instruments the purpose 
of the whole. 3 But every instrument depends upon the 
nature of the work for which it is designed ; so the 
body exists for the soul, and the qualities of every body 
are determined by those of its soul. 4 Nature, like a 

eV rw Svi d/ virdpxovTi Kal rrj owe ia 
I/AT? TretyvKev fyyivfffOai. Cf. the 
passages quoted, i. 221 , n. 1, sujtra, 
from Phys. ii.t), and elsewhere. 

1 l)e An. i. 8, 407, b, 13 : most 
writers (Aristotle is thinking 
principally of Plato) make the 
mistake of speaking of the union 
of soul and body, ovBev TrpocrStopi- 
ffavres, 8<a riv 1 alr iav Kal TTWS 
%)^ovros rov o~(f)fj.aros. Kairoi 8oftei> 
&i/ TOUT afayicaiof e/Vcu 8ra yap 

T7?J> KOlV(i>v(o.V rb jJLtV TTOtfl TO 8f 

-rrdcrxft Kal rb u.ev Kivflrai rb Se 

KlVii, rOVrCDf 8 Ol>9tV VTrdp^ 1 Tp^S 

a\\T)\a Tols rvxovffiv. of 8e jj.6i>ov 
tiuxeipovffi Xeyeiv irolov rt y ^vxv, 
Ttepl 8e TOU 8eo[j.evov (rw/JLaros nvOfv 
en irpoffSiopi^ovcriv, uxncep eVSe_\;o- 
fjifvov Kara robs TIvPayopiKovs 

evSveodai traJ^ua 8o/f? yap 
"t8ioi> e^etv fISos Kal 
. irapairXriaiov 8e \eyovcriv 
ei" TJS (pair] T?;V TfKToviKr)v 
av\oi>s evSvfffdat Se? yap T"i]v 

o ? s opydvois, 

r}]V 8e tyvx^v T$ ffw/iunn (ef. p. 
8, n. 1, supra, ad Jin.) 

- See i. 375, n. 1, and i. 459. 
sqq. supra. The expression, Part. 
An. i. 1, (540, b, 28, i] yap Kara 

T-fjV /JLOp<pijV (plHTlS KVplWTfpa T7JS 

vhiKys (pixTfus, is used with refer 
ence to the above question of the 
relation of soul and bod}^. 

3 See p. 3, n. 2, mipra^ and 
Phys. viii. 2, 252, b, 24 : el 8 4v &y 
rovro Swaraj/ yeveaOai, ri Ka>\vft 
TI avrb o fyit/STji CU Kal Kara rb iruv : 
fl yap 4v /AiKpy Koff/jLw ytvercu, Kal 

1 Part. An. i. 1, 640, b, 22 
sqq. concluding (041, a, 29) : 
wore Kal ovrcas &v XtKriov e t-rj raj 
pl (pvcrf&s OfwprjriKty Trepl 
irfpl TTJS I/ATJS, 

. c. 5, 645, b, 14 : eVei Se 
T^ JJLCV upyavov irciv fVfKO, rov, ruv 
Sf rov <Tu>/j.aros u.opiuv (Kao-rov 
evfKa rov, rb 8 o5 eVe/m irpa^ s ns, 


judicious manager, gives to each the instrument it can 
use. 1 Instead, therefore, of deducing the spiritual from 
the corporeal, as the elder physicists had done, Ari 
stotle takes the opposite path, describing the soul s life 
as the end and the body s life as the means. While 
Anaxagoras had said that man was the most rational 
being because he had hands, Aristotle denies any truth 
to this dictum unless it be reversed man has hands 
because he is the most rational being ; for the instru 
ment must be fitted to its work, not the work to its 
instrument.- The nature of the instrument is not, 
indeed, a matter of indifference in respect to the result : 
anything cannot be made out of any substance or by 
any means ; 3 but this does not negative the fact that 
the choice of the instrument depends upon the purpose 
in view. 4 It is perfectly obvious that it does in the case 

(pavtpbv on KOI rk avvoXov Gup-a. - Part. An. iv. 10, 687, a, 7-23, 

trvvfo-T-riKe irpdews TWOS eveKa especially the words just after 

irX-i)povs. . . . Start Kal T& ffu/j-d TTWS the passage quoted above : irpoa- 

T yjs ^U^TJS ej/e/cej/. Kal TO. [topia ruu> i,KeL yap T<p uvn avXrirri Sovvai 

tpyuv Trpbs a ire^u/cev tKacrrov. paXXov avXovs ^ T(f avXous tyovri 

Metapli. vii. 10, 1035, b, 14 sqq. irpoffQe ivai avXtjTiK^v TW yap pel- 

!)(> An. ii. 4 ; see p. 2, n. 3, m/>ra. &vi Kal Kvpiwrepci) irpoo-ed-nKf rov- 

1 Part. An. \\\ 10, GST, a, 10: Xarrov, aAA ov rtf e Aarroj/i rb 

tj 5e (pvffis ael Siavf/J,ft, Kafidinp Ti/jua>Tpoi> /cat yuei^W .... TW ovv 

uv9p(DTros (ppovi/j.os, tKaffTOV T$ irXdo-ras Swa^eixf 8ea<r0cu Tex vas 

Svva/J.fvcf xP*l ff al - JMd- c - 8, H84, T^ etrl TrXelffrov TWV opydvwv xP^r 

a, 28 : r; Se (pvffis airodio wffiv ael -ri^ov T V X^P a airoSfSwKev ij (pixris. 

roTs xPV ff O at Svvaficvots (Kaffrov T) 3 See pp. .), n. T, and 10, n. 1, 

n6v(s $ .uaAAoi/. iii. 1, 661, b, 2(i supra. 

sqq.: of those organs which serve 4 There is, therefore, no real 
for purposes of defence or are inconsistency between the doc- 
indispensable to the support of trine previously laid down and 
life, fKaffra airoS^ufnv rj <pv<ris the statements, Gen. An. ii. 0, 
TIHS Suj OjiifVots xp^l ff6al P&i""s T) T44, a, 30, that man s intelligence 
juaAAoj/, /j-dXicrra 5e ry yuaAiara. affords proof of the evKpaffia of 
Hence the female is usually the central organ of his life; 
either wholly or in part unpro- Part. An. ii. 2, 648, a, 2 sqq. c. 4, 
vided with defensive organs. 651, a, 12, that greater intelli- 



of organic beings. The adjustment of means to end 
which prevails in nature here displays itself in its fullest 
perfection. 1 To them we may with most propriety 
apply the axiom that Nature always produces the best 
that was possible under the given circumstances. 2 

This working towards fixed ends begins to show itself 
in the nutrition and development of organisms. Nutri 
tion is not a mere operation of warmth, as was supposed ; 
warmth may be important in the process, but it is 
always the soul that regulates it and directs it to 
a certain definite result. 3 Nor can we adopt the theory 
suggested by Empedocles for explaining the growth of 
plants by saying that the fiery element tends upwards 
and the earthy downwards in their composition ; if so, 

gence is a consequence of thinner 
and cooler blood; ibid. iv. 10, 
( 86, b, 22, that the meaner in 
telligence of animals, children, 
and dwarfs is to be explained on 
the ground of the earthliness and 
immobility of the organ which 
their souls must employ : ])e 
Itespir. 13, 477, a 16, that warmer 
animals have nobler souls, and 
J)e An. ii. 0, 421, a, 22, that man 
excels all other creatures in the 
fineness of his sense of touch 5io 

and that among men those who 
are white, and "therefore have a 
more delicate sensibility, are 
mentally more highly endowed 
(cf. also ATetaph. i. 1, 980, b, 23). 
Mental activity may be pheno 
menally dependent upon certain 
conditions which in turn exist 
only for its sake : that which in 
reality is the primary and con 
ditioning principle may appear 
to follow in time as a later and 

conditioned result; cf. Part. An. 
ii. i. 640, a, 24. Further con 
sideration, however, reveals the 
logical difficulties in which we 
are thus involved. The soul s 
development is said on the one 
hand to be conditioned by the 
capabilites of its body, the 
character of the body on the 
other hand is conditioned by 
the requirements of the soul 
which, then, is primar} - and con 
ditioning ? If the soul, winy has it 
not a body which permits a 
higher development of its 
powers ? If the body, how can it 
be itself treated as though it 
were the mere tool of the soul ? 

1 Meteor, iv. 12 ; see i. 468, 
n. 5. siipvn. 

- See the discussion, supra, \. 
p. 459 sqq. The statements there 
made refer for the most part prin 
cipally to the organic nature. 

:i l)c An. ii. 4, 416, a, 9 : SOKC? 
Se riffiv 77 rov irvpbs (pvais a?rAwy 



what keeps the two together and prevents their sepa 
ration ? [ The same applies to the structure of the 
organism. It is impossible to explain even the origin 
of organic creatures 2 on the supposition that their 
separate parts are formed and brought together by a 
blind and purposeless necessity, only those combinations 
surviving which succeed in producing from an aimless 
stream of matter a being adapted to an end and capable 
of life. 3 For chance produces only isolated and ab 
normal results. When, on the other hand, Ave are 
dealing with the normal adaptations of Nature we are 
forced to regard them as purposely designed by her 
from the beginning. But this is precisely what we 

alria. TTJS rpotyr/s Kal TTJS a 
elj/at . . . .TO 8e ffvvairiov p.4v -TTCOS 
, ov fj.)]V aTrAa-s 76 a lnov, aAAa 


irvpbs avfyffis ds aireipoi , ews av fj 
rb Kavtrrbv, TUIV 5e (pvaei (rvviara- 
u,tv<av irdvT&v etrrt Trepas Kal Xoyos 
/j.tyt6ovs Te Kal au|TJ(rea>s ravra 
8e il/u^fjs, aAA 1 ov irvpbs, Kal \oyov 
/AoAAov ?) U ATJS. Cf. p. 14, n, 2, inf. ; 
and upon atriov and (Twa trioy, su- 
ura, i. p. 360, n. 1, and p. 463, n. 1. 

1 Ibid. 415, b, 28 sqq. 

2 As Empedoclcs tiius to 
do ; see following note. \Ve 
cannot suppose, however, that 
Empedocles (or any other of the 
pre-Aristotelian philosophers) ex- 
pressed the theories of whieh lie 
is chosen by Aristotle as the repre 
sentative, in so general a sense as 
is here attributed to him. 

3 Phys. ii. 8, 198, b, IB, Ari 
stotle starts the question: T I 
Ka Auet rrjz/ ^vaiv fJ.r] evtitd. Toy 
Trtutu/ /uj5 on /JtArioi/, aAA &<nrtp 
JJe: 6 Zeus &c. [see i. -171, xupra] 

. wjTt ri /ttoAuti UVTOJ /cat TCI 

T f ( t > V eL > [ V TWl>S 

oSoVras e| avdyKys afaTe?Aat rovs /jLtrpoff6iovs o|e?s, eT 
Trpbs TO Siatpeli , TOWS 5e 
TrAaTels Kal \pit](ri[J.ovs TT^OS rb Aeai- 
i/etj/ TTJV TpCKp-rjV, eVei ou TOVTOU 
eVe/ca -ysviffQai, cxAAa 
6/m.oiws 5e Kal Trepl TWJ/ ahXao 
ey otrois So/cel inrdpxtw TO eVe/ca 
TOU. OTTOU juev ovv cx7raj/Ta (jvviftt] 
wcnrep KO.V el eVewa TOU eyiveTU, 
ravra> taudr) O.TTU rov avTO/j.drov 
(rvffrdi/Ta e7rtT7j5eia>s oVa 5e /u.rj 
OVTWV, (XTraiAeTO Kai ctTroAAi/TCti, 

yevri avpoTTpwpa. 

4 ASvi/arov Se [Aristotle an 
swers, //;/>. 108, b, rA~]TovTOvfxeiv 
rbv rpoirof. ravra ydp /cat ndvra 
rd ipvfffi T) dtl ovTW yivtrai T) ws 
firl rb 7roAu, TWI/ 5 CXTTO TU^TJS Kal 
ToP avrofJ-drov ouSeV. . . . ct 
TJ (Ls dirb (Tv/j.irTwfj.aT05 SoKel 
cVeKa TOK etVat, ei /XT; olot TC 

a,7rc) ravTO/j.dTOv, eVtKa TOU at/ tfrj. 
In farther proof of design in 
nature, he adds: in tV bVots 



are doing in the case of a living being. What makes 
a living body is riot the separate material elements, but 
their special and peculiar combination, the form of the 
whole to which they pertain. 1 We cannot explain its 
structure by the mere operation of elementary forces 
working in matter, but only by the operation of the 
soul, which employs these forces as instruments in giving 
form to matter. 2 Nature makes only those organs that 
are fitted for the purpose of each organism, and creates 
them in order, according to their several uses. 3 First 
she forms the parts on which the life and growth of the 
being depend ; 4 then the remaining most important parts 

Te AoS fffTl Tl, TOVTOV tl/eKO. TTpaT- 

rerai rb irpoTfpov KOI Tb e^f^rjs. 
OVKOVV ws irpaTTtTai, OVTW W^uKe, 


fKaarov &z/ /JL^ n f/u.-rroSi 

rai 8 eVe/ca rov Kal -necpvKfv apa 

TOVTOV eVe/co. Cf. i. 462, n. 2, 


1 Part. An. i. 5, 645, a, HO : 
just as when we speak of a bouse 
or furniture, we mean, not the 
material of which it is made, 
but the #A?7 noptyr), so in the in 
vestigation of nature we speak 
irepl TTJS ffvj/9f(re(vs Kal Trjs oAr/s 
ot/fnay, aAAa /UTJ tr^pl TUVTWV & Lib 
ffvft&aivei xco^i^te^a Trore TTJS 

OVffid. i Q.VTWV. 

- (rcn. An. ii. -J, 740, b, 12: 
?? Se SiaKpiais yiyviTat -ruv fjLopiuv 
[in tlie formation of the foetus] 
o->x ws T(i/es vTro\a/j.pdvov(Ti, Sta TO 
Trt<pvKfvai <t>peo~6ai TO 6fj.oiov irpbs 
Tb O/JLOIOV (and therefore as in 
elementary processes) ; for in 
that case homogeneous parts, 
flesh, bones, &c., would unite in 
separate masses ; a A A UTI TO 
ire tTTccfj.a Tb TOV 0r\ 

TOIOVTOV fffTlV oloV (f)ll(Tl 

Kal tveffTi dvvd/u.fiTa /uopia 
8 ovB4v. . . /cal OTI TO 
Kal TO waOyTiK tj/, oTav Qtyuaiv, 
. . evtivs TO pet/ Troie? TO Se navx* 1 - 
. . cao~Trep Se TO, vwb TVJS Te vi/r/s 
yw6ju.i>a yivfTai Sia T&V opyavaav, 
eo~Ti 5 Q.\-t]Qe<TTfpov CiVeli/ Sid Trjs 
t<n\v i] 

&o~Trep Kal eV avTO?s Tols w 

TOLS <pVTO?S VffTtpOV e /C T 

Tryiet TTfv av^riffiv. ^pufjL^vr] olov 
o/iyai/ois Otp/jioTt^Ti Kal fy v XP r "n Tl 
(eV yap TOVTOLS i] Kivrjvis tKeivrjs Kal 
Xoycf TIV\ Kao-Toi/ yivtTai) OUTGC Kal 
e <*PX.ys (Twi<jTT]<n TO <}>v(rei ~)iyv6- 

3 Ibid. ii. 6, 744, a. . )() : eirtl 
8 ovQfv iroiel irepicpyov ovSe /j.aTr]v 77 
(pvo~ts, o~7)\ov ws ovS vo~Tepov ov8f 
irpoTpov. tlo~Tai yap TO ysyovus 
/J.drr)v 7^ Trepiepyov. 

1 Iii tlie lower animals the 
heart or the organ that corre 
sponds to it; Gen. An. ii. 1, 735, 
a, 23. 


of the organism ; and lastly the instruments which it 
employs for special purposes. 1 The nutritive soul is 
developed first, as forming the common basis of all life ; 
and next the several functions of the soul by which 
each higher organism raises itself above that which 
precedes it in the scale of being. First comes <i living 
being, and next some special sort of being. 2 in 
obedience to the same law the organism is dissolved in 
the reverse order. That which life can least dispense 
with dies last, the less vital organs first ; so that Nature 
works round in a circle to her starting point. 3 All parts 
and functions of the living creature exhibit the same 
proofs of contrivance, and can only be explained as 
the product of design. Accordingly all Aristotle s 
researches into the corporeal nature of animals are 
governed by this view. The essential and decisive 
causes are always final causes, 1 and whatever leads in 
the ordinary course of nature to a definite end must 
have existed for that end. 5 lie tries to prove that every 
organ is just what it must have been in order to fulfil 
its purpose in the best possible way according to the 

Gen. An. ii. (5, 742, a, 10 -b, 3 Ibid. c. 5, 741, b, 1H : that 

6, c. 1, 734, a, 12, 26. the heart is the central organ is 

- Gen. *An. ii.*3, 736, a, 27-b, seen at death; diroAenret 70^ 

11 (of. 737, b, 17, c. 1, 735, a, 4 Cjjv IvrtvOfv TeAcuTcuov, ffvppa vei 

sqq.). As the inhabitant of a 8 eVl irdvrtav TO Tttevralov yiv6- 

material body, the soul may be pevov -rcpuTov arroXenreii/, TO 8e 

said to exist potentially in the -n^-rov TeAetrrouoi/, &o-rrep TT)S 

seed. In the evolution of the <f>ucrta>s Siai/Ao5po/tou<rT?s al aj/eAn-- 

living being the nutritive soul rojttcVrjs eirl T^V dpxV 30ey faOev. 

comes first, next the sensitive and tori yap T? pfv y evens e TOV /AT; 

rational : first comes a &ov, then OVTOS els TO tf, rj 8e <t>eopa e/c TOV 

a definite &ov, e.g. a horse or a UUTOS TTO.\IV els TO w ov. 

man.O o-Tepov 70^ ylvtrai TO T(\OS, * Cf. i. 450, sqq. supra. 

TO 8 filOV eO-Tt T^ tKOO-TOU T7/S 3 Cf. p. 17, frf/TO. 

Tt AoS. 


means at hand. 1 He points out how every animal is 
provided with organs adapted to its mode of life, or 
how the common organs of a tribe are modified to meet 
its special needs. 2 Nor does he neglect the inter 
dependence of the different members : distinguishing 
the principal organs which directly serve to fulfil the 
end of life, from those which are added for their pro 
tection and maintenance ; 3 and remarking that Nature 
always affords the strongest protection to the noblest 
and the weakest parts, 4 that, where one organ is not 
equal to its task, she makes or modifies another for the 
purpose, 1 and that she places organs of opposite 
character near one another, in order that each may 
temper and supplement the action of the other. lie 
sees in the artistic instincts of animals an obvious 

1 Proofs of tliis, the most im- bodies to enable other animals to 

portant of which will call for escape from them more easily, and 

future discussion, are given to prevent them from doing injury 

throughout the whole work DC to themselves by their voracity. 
Fart. An., and in many passages a The flesh, for example, is 

of Aristotle s other zoological and the principle organ of ^sense- 

anthropological works. perception ; bones, on the other 

- Thus the elephant, being not hand, nerves, veins, skin, hair, 

only a land-animal, but leading nails, &c., exist merely for its 

also an amphibious life in mor- sake, as is shown Part. An. ii. 8. 
asses, is provided with a proboscis ZKLLER, Ph.tLGr.n. 14, 

that it may breathe more easily 658, b, 2 sqq., iii. 11. (573, b. 8, 

under water ; Part. An,, ii. 10, iv. 10, 690, b, 9. 
6.">8, b, 33 sqq. In like manner the Ibid. iv. 9, 685, a, 30. 

form of birds beaks depends (i Ib ul. ii. 7, 652, a, :!1 : atl 

upon the nature of their food, 70^ TJ Averts /j.r)xai>aTai irpby T^V 

as is shown {Ibid. iii. 1, 662, b, 1, eKaa-rov vTreppo\ V f3or,B(iavr^vTov 

sqq. iv. 12, 693, a, 10 sqq.) in the eVai/ri ou iraptSpiav, "iva aviva^ri ryv 

case of birds of prey, the wood- darepou virfp0o\r]i/ edrepov. b , 16 : 

pecker, the raven, grain- and eVet 8 a-rravra 8e?Tcu rrjs evavTias 

insect-eaters, water- and moor- poirris, iva. rvyxdvT] rov /j.frpiou KOU 

fowl. Dolphins, again, and sharks TOV /j.t<rov : thus the head counter- 

(ibid. iv. 13, 696, b, 21) have the balances the heart, 
mouth in the upper part of their 



example of unconscious contrivance in Nature. 1 Nor 
does he forget the influence of necessity, which here, as 
elsewhere, cooperates with Nature in the realisation of 
her designs. 2 Indeed, he expressly requires observers 
of nature to make use of both causes in their explana 
tions. 3 Still he holds fast to the belief that physical 
causes are only means employed by Nature for her ends, 
and that their necessity is only conditional ; 4 nor does 
he cease to marvel at the wisdom with which Nature 
makes use of the materials suited to her purposes, and 
overcomes the opposition of such as are antagonistic. 
Like a good housewife, she employs the dregs and 
refuse of animal life for beneficial purposes, and suffers 
nothing to be wasted. 5 She turns everything to the 
best possible account ; G if she can make one organ 

Phys. ii. 8, 199, a, 20: 
Se (pavfpuv etrl ruiv ^yccv 
ra>v a\\<)v, a ovTf TfX v V ovre 
^firr](ravra ovre fiov\evcrd/n.i>a 
voie t. oflei/ Siairopova irivesirorepoi 
vif ij rivt a\\Cf) epydoi>rai o i T 
apdxvai Kal ol /j.vp/j.f]Kes Kal TO. roi- 
avra. /caret [AiKphv 5 ovroo Trpo iovri 
Kal ZVTOIS tpvrdis <paivraira(rv/j.(pe- 
povra yu/6/j.ei a irpbs rb re Aos, olov 
TO. (pv\\a TT}S TOW Kapirov eVe/ca 

ffKfTTt]S. UHTT* ft (pVfffl T TTOie? Kal 

tvtKa. TOV rf ^eAiSwj/ Tr)v vOTTiav Kal 
6 dpa^vTjs TO apa-xyioV) Kal TO. (pvTa 
TO. <pv\\a eVe/ca T&V Kapir&v KOI ras 
pt^as OVK avia aAAu KO.TW eVe/ca TTJS 
rpocpris, (pavfpbv 6n fffrlv -TJ atria rj 
roiavrr] fv roTs (f>vffi yLvofj.evois Kal 
olffiv. Cf. i. 463, n. 1. 

2 See i. 360, n. 1, supra. 

3 Ibid, and Part. An. i. 1, 
643, a, 14 : Svo rp6iroi rrjs alrias 
Kal Se? Kiyovras Tvy%aveiv /j.d\iffra 

v au.<f>ow, &c. (Cf. PLATO, Tim. 

46, c; Div. i. 642, 6). In dis 
cussing individual parts of the 
body he frequentty gives both 
sides in succession, e.g. Part. ii. 
14, 658, b, 2 : man has thicker 
hair than any other animal, e 
v 5ia r^v vyp6rt]ra rov 

\ov Kal 5ia ras pa(pas, . . . 

8e flotjOeias, OTTUS (TKeirdfaai, 

4 The proofs have already 
been given, i. 360, n, 1, supra. 

5 See i. 465, n. 2, supra. 

6 Thus, for exam pie (Part. AH. 
iii. 14, 675, b, 17 sqq.), the intes 
tines are coiled tightly together, 
SITUS rafjLifvrjrai T) (pv<ris Kal ^ 
aQpoos fi T) eo5os rov Trepirru/jLaros, 
especially in those animals which 
are destined for a frugal manner 
of life. The same thought had 
already been expressed in PLATO, 
Tim. 72, E. 



serve, she does not give an animal several for the same 
function ; l if she needs materials for strengthening one 
member, she despoils another which appears less indis 
pensable ; 2 if she can achieve several objects by one 

1 Thus Aristotle explains 
(Part. An. iii. 2) that different 
animals are provided with differ 
ent means of defence, some with 
horns, others with claws, some 
with size, others with fleetness, 
others again with repulsive 
excrement ; a/j.a 5 iKavas Kal 
irXsiovs /3o7j0e(as ou SeSaxccj/ T] 
(pvffis rots avToTs. Again, ibid. iv. 
12, 694, a, 12, he remarks that 
birds which have a spur are not 
endowed with bent talons also ; 
CUTIOV 5 on ovfiev r) fyvffis irote? 
irfpiepyov. Again, Itcspir. 10, 
476, a, 6 sqq. : gills and lungs 
never exist together, eVel 
obfiev 6p(t>/uLV Troiovcrav rrjv 
fiuolv 8 OVTOIV Odrepov Uv fy 
(just before he says: ei> 5 c</> 
upyavov xP^ ffl ^ ov ^- And again, 
Part. iii. 14, 674, a, 19 sqq. : ani 
mals which have more perfect 
masticating organs (i.e. a/j.fpd>- 
Sovra) are supplied with a simpler 
digestive apparatus: those which 
are defective in the former 
respect, on the other band, have 
several stomachs ; after enume 
rating several species of animals 
which belong to the former class, 
he proceeds, 674, a, 28 : those 
animals which, like the cornel, 
require more than one stomach 
on account of their great size 
and the coarseness of their food, 
form an exception to the rule ; 
the teeth and stomach of the 
camel resemble those of horned 
animals 5ia rb avayKadrfpov efvai 
avrrj rrjif KQiXiav ex* lv Toiavrtjv ^ 
TQVS irpoff&iovs bSovras, it can do 

without the latter is ouSev oi/ras 

- Gen. An. iii. 1, 749, b, 34 : 
thin animals have a greater 
power of procreation ; y yap e/s 
ra Ko>Aa Tpo</>r; rpeireTai rots 
TOIOVTOIS fls TTtptTTw/xa fftrfpfjLa- 
TIKOV & yap fKeWev atyaipe i T\ 
<pvffLS, TTpoffriO^ffiv evravQa. Part. 
An. ii. 14, 658, a, 3L : in long- 
tailed animals, the hairs of the 
tail are shorter, in short-tailed, 
longer, and the same is true of 
the other parts of the body ; 
iravrax ^ 7"P an-oStSoxrt [^ fyvffts] 
Xafioixra erepwOev npbs &A\o [j.6piov, 
cf. ibid. c. 9, 6H5, a, 27 : a/j.a 5e 
rV airV vTrfpoxfy fis iroAAois 
T^TTOUS aSyyare? Stai/e ytiew/ f) fyvffis. 
For further explanations r. 
Meyer (to whom I gratefully 
acknowledge my obligations for 
much of this section), Arist. 
Thicrli. 468: Nature employs 
the earthy refuse either for 
horns or double rows of teeth 
(see Part. An. iii. 2, 663, b, 31, 
664, a, 8 or, as in the case of 
the camel, for a hard palate, 
ibid. c. 14, 674, b, 2). The 
bear, which has a hairy body, 
must be content with a stunted 
tail (ibid. ii. 14, 658, a, 36). In 
the case of mammals, the earthy 
material has been employed for 
their tails, and accordingly, un 
like man, they have no flesh upon 
their legs (ibid. iv. 10, 689, b, 
21). Sharks, again, require this 
earthy material to give their 
skins the proper thickness, and 
accordingly have mere gristle for 



organ, she makes it do the work ; ! although, when this 
arrangement will not serve, she is no niggard in her 
contrivances : 2 of the different materials which she has 
at her disposal she employs the best upon the nobler 
and the worse upon the less important members. 3 Even 
in the cases where one cannot attribute any definite 
utility to certain structures, they are not without a 
design ; for Aristotle thinks that their end mav be 

their skeletons (ibid. ii. 9, 655, 
a, 23). Meyer quotes further 
examples from Part. An. ii. 13, 
657, b, 7, iv. 9, 685, a, 24. Cf. 
also Part. An. iii. 2, 663, a, 31. 

1 Thus the mouth, besides 
the common purpose of eating, 
serves various other ends in the 
various animals, and is thus 
variously formed ; ^ 700 Averts . . . 
ToTs Koivcns TrdvTcav /Aopiois els TroAAa 
ruv ISicav Karaxp^Tai . . . ?) 8e 
Qvffis Trdvra crw^yayev els v, 
TTOtovaa Siafyopav avrov rov ftopiov 
irpbs TO.S TTJS epyacrias Siafpopds. 
(Part. An. iii. 1, 662, a, 18, cf. 
Respir. c. 11 init.) Likewise 
the tongue (Rcsjnr. ibid. ; Part. ii. 
17). The hand (Part. iv. 10, 687, 
a, 19) is ovx ev upyavov dAAa 
iroAAa eo"Ti yap uffirepel opyavov 
Trpb opydtxav (cf. De An. iii. 8, 
432, a, 1) ; it is (b, 2) Kal owt, nal 


&c. ; and similarly the breasts of 
women, Part. An. iv. 10, 688, a, 
19 sqq., the trunk of the ele 
phant, lUd. ii. 16, 659, a, 20, and 
the tails of animals, ibid. iv. 10, 
690, a, 1 (among other passages). 
2 Part. An. iv. 6, 683, a, 22 : 
8irov yap eVSe ^erai ^prjo fiai Svalv 
eirl Sv epya Kal p.^ f^iroSi^eiv irpbs 
ovStv i) (pvaris elude iroietv 

uxrirep r) xaA/ceuTt/fT? irpbs fUTf\nai 
bfitXiffKoXixviov (on this GOTT- 
LING, DeMachtcra J)elpkioa,Ind. 
lect. Jen. 1856, p. 8); aAA OTTOV 
/XTJ eVSe ^erai KaraxpTJTai Tip avT$ 
firl TrAeico epya. Pulit. i. 2, 1252, 
b, 1 : ovdev yap ri (pix 
TOV oTov x a ^KOTVT 
fj.dxaipav [GOTTLIXG, ibid. ; 
ONCKEN, Staatsl. d. Ar. ii. 25, 
who both fail, however, to give 
a complete account of the matter] 
ireviXpvs, aAA ej/ Trpbs ev ovrca 
yap ai> a7roTeAo?TO aAA terra TUV 
6pydi>(Di> 6/cao-TOi/, ^ 7roAAo?j epyois 
aAA fvl SovXevov. MEYER, Arist. 
ThierJt. 470, rightly remarks that 
these statements are inconsistent 
with the principles of the parsi 
mony of nature as previously 
laid down, and even although 
we grant that it is possible to 
find, with Aristotle, a basis of 
reconciliation in the phrase faou 
eVSe xeroi, we cannot deny that 
there is a certain arbitrariness in 
the way in which it is applied. 

3 Gen. An. ii. 6, 744, b, 11 sqq., 
where Nature s management is 
compared in this respect with 
that of a household in which the 
free members receive the best, 
food, the servants a coarse quality, 
and the domestic animals the 

c 2 



fulfilled in the very symmetry and perfection of their 
form, 1 and that this explains why many animals have 
organs, or at least the indications of them, which they 
do not use. 2 It is only where he cannot discover the 
least trace of purpose that our philosopher can bring 
himself to explain a phenomenon by chance or blind 
necessity. 3 

He treats it, for example, 
as a universal law that all the 
organs should be in pairs (8tcJ>ur)), 
seeing that the body has a right 
and a left, a front and a back, 
an upper and a lower (Part. An. 
iii. 7 init. c. 5, 667, b, 31 sqq.). 
Even where to all appearance 
there is only a single organ, he 
exerts himself to prove that it is 
double (ibid. 669, b, 21 : 
/col 6 tyK$a\os fiovherai 
elvat Train Kal r&v aAff 
tKaffrov. Kara rbv avrbv 5e \6yov 
T) KapSfa TO?S KoiXiais. Likewise 
the lungs). Another typical law 
is that the nobler parts, where it 
is possible, should be in the upper 
part, in front and on the right as 
the better position (Part. An-. Hi. 
3 665, a, 23, b, 20, c. 5, 667, b, 
34 cf. c. 7, 670, b, 30, c. 9, 672, 
a, 24, c. 10, 672, b, 19 sqq.); so, 
likewise, that the locomotive 
impulse (the opx*0 -should pro 
ceed for the same reason from 
this quarter (Ingr. An. 5, 706, b, 
11) ; cf. Ch. X. on Animals. The 
same esthetic conception of 
Nature s contrivances is expressed 
in the observation, Part. An. ii. 
14, 658, a, 15 sqq., that men are 
better protected in front than 
behind, the front being the nobler 
(TtuieoTepo) side, and therefore 
demanding stronger defences; 
and in 1. 30 of the same passage, 

where the hairs of the tail of 
the horse and other animals are 
described as merely ornamental. 
2 The hind, while it has no 
horns, has teeth like the stag, 
because it belongs to a horned 
class; and similarly in certain 
species of crabs the female has 
claws which belong properly 
only to the male, 6n eV T<? yevei 
elffi T<f fx ovri Xt^ 5 (PttTt. An. 
iii. 2, 664, a, 3, iv. 8, 684, a, 33). 
Again, spleen, which is a neces 
sity only to viviparous animals, 
and is therefore more strongly 
developed in these, is yet found 
to exist in all (ira j u/xi/cpoj Sxrirep 
o-rjjueiou X"P II/ ) as a kind of 
counterpoise to the liver, which 
is on the right side of the body 
and therefore requires something 
to correspond to it on the left, 
woV jueV TTWS, ^ Xiav S 
dvcu Train TO?S Cyois (Part. An. iii. 
7, 669, b, 26 sqq. c 4, 666, a, 27, 
cf. //. An. ii. 15, 506, a, 12). 
Similarly the monkey, belonging 
as it does to the four-footed 
races, is endowed with a tail 
offov ffri/J-fiov xapiv, II An. ii. 8, 
502, b, 22, c. 1, 498, b, 13. Cf. 
MEYER, p. 464 sq. ; EUCKEN, 
JtfetJi. d. arist. Forsch. 104 sqq., 

3 A purposeless creation of 
this kind ireiTTwo he finds in 

the gall (Part, An. iv. 2, 677, a, 


This prevalence of design in nature shows itself, as 
we have seen before (i. 466 sqq.), in a gradual pro 
gression, a continual process of development. The 
various functions of the soul and life are not shared by 
all living creatures in equal perfection, but different 
forms of animation, and different parts of the soul, may 
be distinguished, which determine the gradations of 
animate life. Plants are confined to nutrition and pro 
pagation ; the nutritive soul alone is active in them. 1 
Beasts add to this the sensitive soul, for sensation is the 
most universal mark of distinction between beasts and 
plants. 2 The lowest form of sensation, common to all 
animals, is the sense of touch ; here begins the feeling 
of pain and pleasure, and the appetites, among which 

11 sqq.; see i. 361, n. 1, supra). 
Upon necessity and chance, p. 
359 sqq. supra. 

1 De An. ii. 2 (see i. 511, n. 2, 
supra). Ibid. 413, b, 7: QpwriKov 
Se \fyo/j.V rb TOLOVTOV p.6piov rr/s 
fyvxiis v K( d Ta <f>vra /Aere ^ei. c. 3 
MI if. c. 4, 415, a, 23 ; T) yap 0pir- 

TIKT] ^VXTl Kal TflTs \\OIS t>7TClpX 6t 

Kal irpuTf] Kal KOivordr-n fivvapis 
eVrt tyvxys, KO.& V virapx* 1 ^ Cw 
onraffiv. fjs evrlv epya yfvvr)ffai Kal 
rpotyy xp^ffla - ffist. An. viii. 1, 
588, b, 24; Gen. An. i. 23, 731, 

a, 21, procreation alone is men 
tioned as the peculiar function 
of the vegetable sense ; and De 
An. ii. 4, 41H, b. 23, it is said : 
eVel Se OTTO rot) re Aovs airavra 
TTpoffayopeveiv SIKOIOI , re Aos Se fb 
ytvvr\ffa.i olov avrb, di] av T] irpunr] 
fyvxy y^wnriKi] olov avr6. On the 
other hand, Gen. An., ii. 4, 740, 

b, 34 sqq. (cf. c. 1, 735, a, 16), 
shows that it is one and the 

same living energy which first 
forms and afterwards nourishes 
the body, but that the former is 
the more important function ; 
6i ovv avr-n tffrlv T\ epfiniK^ ^u^, 
avr-r] effrl Kal y ytvv&ffa. Kal TOUT 
fffrlv TJ fyvcris T) e/cao-TOu, 
ovaa Kal eV <f>vTO?s Kal eV 


2 De An, ii. 2, 413, b, 1: T)> 

, . 

ovv Cyv 5m 
xei TO?S &<ri, rb 8e 
atvOfiffiv irpuTUS Kal yap ra 


Ka\ ou fji/ ,u.6vov. De Sensu, c. 1, 
436, b, lo ; De .Invent, c. 1, 467, 
b, 18, 27 ; Part. An. ii. 10, 655, 
a, 32, 656, b, 3 ; iv. 5, 681, a, 12 ; 
Ittf/r. An. c. 4, 705, a, 26 sqq. b, 
8 ; Gen. An. i. 23, 731, a, 30 ; 
ii. 1, 732, a, 11. Most of these 
passages expressly notice the dis 
tinction between the &v and the 



the appetite for food appears first. 1 One division of 
living creatures combines with sensation the power of 
locomotion, which also belongs to the bestial soul. 2 
Lastly, besides nutritive and sensitive life, man pos 
sesses Reason, the third and highest faculty of the 
soul. 3 The soul exists in no other form than those 
which we have just described. 4 These themselves, 
however, are so related to each other that the higher 
cannot exist without the lower. 5 Animal life exhibits 

1 De An. ii. 2, 413, b, 4 sqq. 
21 sqq. c. 3, 414, b, 1-16, 415, a, 
3 sqq. iii. 12, 434, b, 11 sqq. c 
13, 435, b, 17 sqq. ; DC Sensn, 1, 
436, b, 10-18; Part. An. ii. 17, 
661, a, 6 ; H. An. i. 3, 481), a, 17 ; 
DC Somno, 1, 454, b, 29, c. 2 init. 
In these passages Aristotle some 
times mentions o0^ alone, some 
times a(p}) Kal yevffis, as the 
property of all animals, but the 
apparent inconsistency is ex 
plained by the fact that Aristotle 
regarded the sense taste as a 
form of touch ; DC Sensu, 2, 438, 
b, 30. De An. ii. 9, 421, a, 19: 
ii. W hiit. iii. 12, 434, b, 18. 

2 De An. ii. 3, 414, b, 10. 

3 Ibid, ii. 3, 414, b, 18 (of. iii. 
3, 427, b, 6 ; Gen. An. i. 23, 731, 
a, 30 sqq.) : frepois 8e [rfav cp<i)v 
virdpxfi] Kal rb SiavoyTiKov re KCU 
vovs, oiov avQpuTTois Kal e t TL roiov- 

, TOV fTp6v fartv ir) Kal Tifj-iwrepov. 
On the latter part of this obser 
vation see the discussion upon 
the different kinds of living 
beings infra. 

4 De An. ii. 3, 414, b, 19: 
just as there is no figure which 
is not either triangular, quad 
rangular, or with some other 
number of arrgles, so there is no 
soul which is not one or other 

of the tyvxal mentioned. 

:> Ibid. 414, b, 28: TrapaTrAij- 

mWS 8 fX fl TCf TTfpl TWV ff\lf]jJ.a.TU>l 

Kal TO. Kara tyvx tjV <*el yap eV TO> 
e06|f;s virdpxei 8vvd/Ai rh irporepov 
firi re T&V (Tyr\l*-V-T<0v Kal eVi riav 
e^\|/u^wj/ } oi jv eV Terpaycavcf) fiej/ 
rpiytavov eV al(r6r]TiKy 8e TO Opt-rr- 
TiKoi . . . avev /met/ yap rov 9peTr- 
TIKOV T() QLtfrSriTiicbv OVK tffTiv TOV 
al(T9T)TiKov xupi&Tai TO QpeirriKov 
eV TO?S (pvTo is. tra\iv 5 aveu /uev 
TOV airTtKov T&V a\\wv aio-0r]o~f(v 
i, a<prj 8 avev Tcav 
. . Kal TWV 
TO. /u.v e^et T> wara 

OTTOV KlVr)TlKl)V, TO. 8 OVK t6l. 

Kal Zidvoiav ofs fjitv yap 
Ao-yjo-yiibv TU>V fyQapTu/v [to the ^a 
a<pQapTa. I.e. tlie stars, a pure vovs 
belongs], TOVTOLS Kal TO. \onra 
wd Ta, ois 8 e /cetj/coi/ eKaaTov, ov 
jraffi XoyicrfjLos. aAAa TO?S ^uej/ ai/8e 
<pavTa<r(a, TO. 8e TavTrj /aovrj faffiv. 

TTfpl 8e TOV d(apTf]TlKOV VOV (TfpOS 

Ao-yos (on this see infra ). Ibid. 
c. 2, 413, a, 31, with regard to 
the OpsiTTiKov: x.(apit<rQai 8e TO?TO T>V aAAwj bvvaTbv, TO. 8 aAAa 
TOVTOV aftvvaTov eV TO?S 6"r]To is. 
Cf. i. n Jin. De Sonino, 1, 454, a, 
11. De Jurent. 1, 467, b, 18 sqq. 


a developing scale, in which each successive step in 
cludes all that went before. Plato s doctrine of the 
parts of the soul is thus applied to all animate exist 
ence, without violence to the general conception of its 
originator, though with important modifications of de 
tail, 1 and we are enabled to embrace all natural si 

1 Aristotle objects, indeed (De 
An. in. 9, 10, 432, a, 22 sqq. 433, 
a, 31 sqq.), to Plato s three Cold 
division, oh the ground that if 
we make the functions and facul 
ties of the soul our principle of 
division we have far more than 
three parts, for the difference 
between the Qpeirriicbv, alaQt]TiKbv, 
voririK^v, /3ouAeur titbit, 
is wider than between 
the e7ri#t^u.TjTiKc>j/ and 9v/j.iKbv, and 
asks, De An. i. 5, 411, b, 5, in 
view of it : ri ovv TTOTC (rwfx i 
TT?J/ iJ fxV ftepio-Tr? irfyvKiv ; it 
cannot be the body, for it is 
rather the soul which holds the 
body together ; if, on the other 
hand, it be said that it is an in 
corporeal force, then this is the 
proper soul. But the question 
immediately recurs, is this simple 
or manifold ? If tlie former, 
why .cannot the soul itself be so 
just as well ? [f the latter, then 
for the parts of the crw^xov 
another avvex ov must be sought, 
and so on ad tnjinitum. We 
should thus finally be forced to 
suppose that each part of the 
soul resides in a particular part 
of the body, which is obviously 
not the case either with respect 
to the reason, which has no bodily 
organ corresponding to it at all, 
nor in respect of the lower prin 
ciple of life, which, in the case 
of those animals and plants which 
survive being cut in pieces, lives 

on in each of the parts. Never 
theless, Aristotle himself speaks 
of parts of the soul (see p. 21, n. 1, 
supra ; De Vita, i. 467, b, 1(5), 
and although he tries more fully 
to preserve the unity of its life 
amid the multiplicity of parts, he 
cannot be said to have been any 
more successful than Plato in 
this endeavour, nor does vovs bear 
any closer relation in his theory 
to "the lower elements of the soul 
than does the immortal part in 
Plato s. His departure from 
Plato, accordingly, does not seem 
to be so important in principle. 
He differs from him partly in 
his account of different forms of 
animal life, but Plato, no less 
than he, assigns the lowest of the 
three parts into which he divides 
the soul to plants, the middle 
one to beasts, and holds that the 
higher part presupposes the lower 
but not vice versa ; see Div. i. p. 
714. The chief difference be 
tween the philosophers is in their 
respective starting points : while 
Plato begins his investigation 
into the nature and parts of the 
soul from the ethical side, Ari 
stotle approaches it from the side 
of natural science. On the other 
hand, STRUMPELL (Gvscli. d. 
theor. Phil. 324 sqq.), as BEANDIS 
has pointed out, ii. b, 11158 sq., 
goes too far in saying that Ari 
stotle attributes to one and the 
same being not only different 


from the lowest to the highest in one comprehensive 
view as concentrated and progressive manifestations of 
the same life. 

This progressive development of animal life corre 
sponds to the actual fact, which Aristotle had no doubt 
observed, and which had led him in the first instance 
to his theory, that all organic nature exhibits a 
steady progress from more imperfect and defective 
productions to richer and fuller forms of life. Nature, 
he says, makes so gradual a transition from the inani 
mate to the animate kingdom, that the boundary lines 
which separate them and the position of the inter 
mediate are rendered indistinct and doubtful. Next to 
the inanimate kingdom comes that of Plants ; and here 
we not only distinguish greater arid less degrees of 
vitality subsisting among individuals, but the whole 
tribe seems animate when compared wdth inorganic 
substances, inanimate when compared with animals. 
Again, the transition from plants to animals is so 
gradual that many marine creatures leave us in doubt 
whether they are animals or vegetables, since they 

faculties or parts of the soul but the nutritive soul being contained 
different souls, to man four, to in the sensitive, and the sensitive 
beasts three (counting- the sensi- in the rational, just as the tri- 
tive and the motive principles as angle is contained in the quad- 
two). ^Aristotle speaks, indeed, of rangle (see preceding note), so 
a tyv x *i OpewTiK}), alae-nriK^ \oyuch that an animal, for instance, can 
and of different ^v X a\ (see c-.//.pre- no more be said to contain two 
ceding page ; DC Vita, 3, 4(59, souls than a quadrangle can be 
a, 24), but he does not mean that said to contain two kinds of 
several souls exist together in an figures. If he fails, as a matter 
individual as so many separate of fact, perfectly to preserve the 
beings ; he even defines the rela- unity of the soul throughout (see 
tion of these so-called tyv X al to end of Ch. XII.), we are not on this 
one another in the distinctest account justified in denying that 
manner as one of comprehension, he attempted to do so. 


adhere to the ground, and cannot live when separated 
from it. Indeed, the whole tribe of Ostreacecc, when 
compared with locomotive animals, resemble vege 
tables. The same may be said about sensation, phy 
sical structure, mode of life, propagation, the rearing of 
their young, &c. : in all of these respects we notice a 
gradual progression of development. 1 The continuity 
of this order brings into play the law of Analogy, the 
presence of which Aristotle takes some trouble to 
demonstrate in the sphere of organic structures arid 
their vital functions. Analogy, as we have shown 
before, 2 is the bond which unites different genera ; 
in organic nature, as elsewhere, it transcends generic 
differences, and where no real similarity of kind is 
possible, produces resemblance. 3 This analogy may be 

1 Hist. An. viii. 1, 588, b, 4 avdxoyov x^p 15 - Two kinds of 

sqq.where detailed proof is given ; birds differ from one another by 

Part. An. iv. 5, 681, a, 12, where, the size, for instance, of their 

in speaking of zoophytes and the wings ; birds and fish, on the other 

differences which are to be ob- hand, r<f avdXoyov - b yap e/ceify 

served amongst them, he remarks: irrepbv, darepty Ae;ns. Analogies 

T] yap (pvcris utrafiaivfi (rvvex&s airb of this kind are found in almost 

TWV atyvxtov *is TO. $a Sia T&V fav- all animals : ra yap TroAAa <a 

Tdiv jUti/ OVK OVTWV 5e <<av ouTcas dvd\oyov ravrb TreirovQtv. Simi- 

fcffre SoK~it/ Trd/j-irav i^iKpbv 8ta<J>epeii/ larly in the following passage, 

Oarepov ddrepov TOJ ffvvvtyyvs a\- 644, b, 7 sqq. a contrast is drawn 

AyjAots. between differences which exist 

2 I. 272, n. 2, su/>ra. With within the same genus, e.g. be- 

\vhat follows of. MKYER, Arlst. tween large and small, soft and 

Tkirrk. 334 sqq. 103 sq. hard, smooth and rough animals, 

:{ Part. An. i. 4, (541, a, 14. and lliose which permit us lo 

Why are not water and winged trace only general analogies. To 

animals included under one the same effect, c. 5, 645, b, I : 

name ? eo-rt yap fi/ta irdOr] KOIVO. iro\\a Koiya iroAAoTs virdpx^ T&V 

KCtl TOVTOLS Kal To7s ttAAois aoS ^(pwv, TO. /AH/ ctTrAcDs, olov TToSes 

airaffiv. ciAA 6/j.cas opdcas SicopiffraL Trrepa AeTTj Ses, Kal ird9rj Sr/ rbv 

rovrov rbv irpoirov. 6<ra, /uei/ yap avrbv Tpo-rrov TOVTOIS, ra S 1 avd- 

8ta</>epet ru/v yevwv o0 virepox^f \oyov. heyw S a.v&\oyov, on roils 

Kal rb fj.a\\ov Kal rb r/rrov, ravra /j.fv uTrapx 61 TrAew^ajv, TO?S Se ir\i>- 

i, ova e^et rb /J.wv ^v ob, & 5e TO?S 



observed in the most different quarters. In place of 
blood, bloodless animals have certain humours which 
correspond to it ; and this is also the case with flesh. 2 
Molluscs, being without fat, are provided with an 
analogous substance/ 5 Cartilage and gristle correspond 
to bones in snakes and fish, and in the lower animals 
their place is supplied by shells, &c., which serve the 
same purpose of supporting the body. 4 The hair of 
quadrupeds answers to the feathers of birds, the scales 
of fishes, and the mail of oviparous land animals 5 
the teeth of beasts to the bills of birds.* 5 Instead of a 
heart, bloodless animals have a similar central organ, 7 
and instead of a brain, something like one. 8 Gills take 
the place of lungs in fishes, and they inhale water 
instead of air. Roots perform the same office for 
vegetables as heads, or rather months, for animals, and 

;tofo, cKeivois repov avr TOVTOV 
KCU TO IS fj.V ai/xa, Tins Se TO ava.- 
\oyov rrfv avrrjv ex ov ^vva/j-iv Tjj/Trep 
Tols fvai/uots TO afyia. I bid. 20 
sqq.; Hist. An. i. 1, 480, b, 17 
sqq., 487, a, 9, c. 7, 491, a 14 sqq. ; 
ii. 1, 497, b, 9 ; viii. 1 (sec infra). 

1 Hist. An. i. 4, 489, a, 21 ; 
Part. An. i. 5, (545, b, 8, ii. 3, 
650, a, 34, iii. 5, 668, a 4, 25, 
Gen. An,, ii. 4, 740, a, 21. De 
tSo inno, c. 3, 456, a, 35, and other 

- Part. An. ii. 8 init. iii. 5, 
668, a, 25, ii. 1, 647, a, 19 ; Hut. 
An. i. 3, 4, 489, a, 18, 23 ; l)e An. 
ii. 11, 422, b, 21, 423, a, 14. 

3 Gen.. -An. i. 19, 727, b, 3; 
Part. ii. 3, 650, a, 34. 

1 Part. ii. 8, 653, b, 33- fin. c. 
9, 655, a, 17 sqq. c. 6, 652, a, 2 ; 
Hist. iii. 7, 516, b, 12 sqq. c. 8, 

517, a, 1, i. 1,486, b, 19. 

5 Part. iv. 11, 691, a, 15, i. 4, 
644, a, 21. Hist. iii. 10 hut. i. 
1, 486, b, 21. 

6 Part.iv. 12, 692, b, 1.1. 

7 Part ii. 1, 647, a, 30, iv. 5, 
678, b, 1, 681, b, 14, 28, a, 34; 
Gen. An. ii. 1, 735, a, 23 sqq. c. 
4, 738, b, 16. c. 5, 741, b, 15. De 
-Resplr. c. 17, 478, b, 31 sqq. !)< 
Motn An. c. 10, 703, a, 14. On 
the parts which Aristotle regarded 
as analogous to the heart see 
MEYER, p. 429. 

8 Part. ii. 7, 652, b, 23, 653, a, 
11 : DC Somno, 3, 457, b, 29. 

" Part-, i. 5, 645, b, 6, iii. 6 
i-nit. iv. 1, 676, a, 27; Hist. An. 
viii. 2, 589, b, 18, ii. 13, 504, b, 
28 ; De Ilcsp. c. 10 so. 475, b, 15, 
476, a, 1, 22. 


take up food into their systems. 1 Some animals which 
have no tongues are provided with an analogous organ. 2 
The arms of men, the fore feet of quadrupeds, the wings 
of birds, the ela\vs of crabs, are all analogous, 3 while 
the elephant has a trunk instead of hands. 4 Oviparous 
animals are born from eggs ; correspondingly, the 
embryo of mammals is surrounded with a skin like that 
of an egg, and in the chrysalis insects assume an oval 
form. Reversely, the earliest germs of higher animal 
life corresponds to the worms from which insects are 
bred/ - The habits, occupations, tempers, and reason of 
animals can be compared with those of men ; while the 
human soul in childhood can scarcely be distinguished 
from that of beasts/ Thus does one inner bond of 
union permeate all departments of organic nature one 
life unfolds itself from the same fundamental forms in 
continually ascending degrees of perfection. And as 
organic nature is the sphere of contrivance and design, 

1 De An. ii. 4, 41G, a, 4 : us After illustrating th 

rj Kf(pa\r} rS>v &W, ovrws ai pifai examples he proceeds : 

riav $>VTMV, 6t xP~h Ta opyava \tysiv yap T< ^aAAoi/ Kal yrrov 

ravra Kal krepa raits Zpyois. De irpbs rbv avBpwirov . . . TO Se 

Jtivent. c. 1, 468, a, 9; Ingr. An. a.vd\oyov Siatpepti us yap ev 

C. 4, 708, a, (5. 0p<i>Tra) rexvn Kal croc/x a Kal (Tvi/e 

- Part. iv. 5, G78, b, G-10. O&TWS tv ois TWV frpuv Iffriris tr 

:< Part. iv. 12, 693, a, 26, b, Toiavrr) QWIK.}) 8vva/ 

10, C. 11, ($91, b, 17 ; Hist. i. 1. TO.TOV 8 eVri TO TOIOVTOV tirl rr;r 

48H, b, 19, c. 4, 489, a, 28, ii. 1, TWI/ iraiSwv r)\iKiav ftXf^aaiv eV 

497. b, 18. TOVTOIS yap roov> vcrrfpov l|ewz/ 

4 Part. iv. 12, 692, b, 15. eo-o^eVwr Zffriv *5eti/ oiov "ix? 7 ! Kal 

5 Hist. vii. 7, 586, a, 19 : Gen. o-Tre p^ara, 8ia<pfpei 8 ovOev us 
An. iii. 9. See i. 467. n. 1, supra, enreu/ TJ ^vx^ rrisrwv 0i)piwv tyvx^s 

fi Hist. An. viii. 1, 588, a, IS : Kara rbv xp^ vov TOVTOV, laar 1 ovSev 

eVefTTi yap eV rols Tr\eia TOis Kal T&V aXoyov, fl ra /j.ev ravTa ra 5 itapa- 

aAAcov ^CfHav fx* *! T <* >v ^ e P^ f}}v TrA^trta TO 8\oyov tnrap^et roils 

rpoirw, airep eirl rwv avQp-Ja- ftAAots Cf s - 
e^et (pavepurtpas ras 5ia<popds. 



it is itself in turn the object which all the inorganic 
universe must serve. The elements exist for the sake 
of homogeneous substance, arid this for the sake o*~ 
organic structures. Here, therefore, the order of 
existence is reversed : that which is last in origin is 
first in essence and value. 1 Nature, after displaying a 
continual decrease of perfection from the highest sphere 
of heaven to earth, there reaches her turning point, and 
the descending scale of being begins to reascend. 2 The 
elements by their mixture prepare the conditions neces 
sary for the development of living creatures, and we 
see Life expanding itself from its first weak germs to 
its highest manifestation in humanity. 3 

1 Part. Aii. ii. 1, 616, a, 12: 
rpiwv 8 ovff&v rSov o~vv6fo-fuv [on 
which see i. 517, n. 6, sujJ.~] irpwr-rjv 
fj.fv av ris Qftt] rrjv fK roav KaAou,ue - 
vwv VTTO riv<av a roi Xfiwv .... 8eu- 
Te pa Se avffraais fK ruv Trpwruv T] 
ra>v 6/j,oiofj.fp)v fyvcris fv TOIS <OLS 
fffrlv, olov 6o~rov Kal o~apKos Kal 
TWV a\\wv raiv roiovrwv. rpirr] Se 
Kal TeAeuTaia rbv apidfj,bv fj ruv 

aVOfJ,OLOfJLfpWV, oloV TTpOfftoTTOV Kal 

X*ipbs Kal ruv roiovrwv fj-opicav. 
eVel S fvavrius firl TTJS y< 
fX fi Ka T ^ s oiifflas ra yap 
TTJ yfvfffft irporfpa rrjv (()vo-iv 
Kal irpoorov TO TT) yfvffffi TeAeu- 
rawv, for the house does not exist 
for the sake of the stones and the 
bricks, but these for the sake of 
the house, and generally the 
material for the sake of the form 
and the final product: rep /j.ev ovv 
Xpovy irporepav rr)V i/Arji/ avayKa iov fffriv. 

fivai Kal rT\v yfvfffiv, r<? \6ycf Se 3 That Aristotle conceives of 
rrjv ovffiav Kal rfyv fKaarov fj.opty fiv. such a process of development 
. . . (txrre ryv fj,fv ruiv o Tot^e/coi from lower to higher forms, and 
{/ATJJ/ avayKa iov flvai rtov 6fj,oiou.fpu>v of man as the highest step in 
varfpa yap e /ceiVcoz 1 TavTa TTJ the scale of evolution, by refer- 

rovrwv 8e TO. avou.oiOfj.fpri 
[i.e. organic nature], ravra yap 
tf8r) TO rf\os fX fl Ka ^ T0 7re Ps 
e| afj.(porfp(i)v ovv ra wa avv- 
fo~rr]Kf rS>v /uopiuv rovrcav, dAAd TO. 
6fjt.oiofJ.fpfi roov avofj.oiofj.epuv fVfKfV 
fffnv fKfivuv yap fpya Kal irpd- 
ets elfflv, olov o<p9a\fj.ov, &C. 

- Cf. what is said in Gen. An. 
ii. 1, 731, b, 24 : eVel yap Iffn ra 
fj.fv d f Sta Kal 0e?a ruiv ovruv ra 8 
fvSfxofJ-fva Kal slvai Kal /uty elvai, TO 
8e Ka\bv Kal rb Qfiov atnov dei Kara 
r)]V avrov fyvaiv rov ftt\riovos eV 
TO?S eV5e%oyueVots, rb 8e /j.r) a io iov 
eV5e%Jyuej/oV e(m wal tlvai Kal 
fj.fra\a/j.f3dvfii Kal rov ^e 
rov /SeAriWos, (3e\riov Se 
frwyu.aTs, TO 8 e^^u^oj/ rov 
Sia rr)v vl/i/XTjf, Kal TO tlvai rov /J.TJ 
flfai Kal TO ^"TJJ/ rov fj.r] ]iv, 
Sid TauTav Tas alrias y(vt(Tis 



Aristotle finds the first indications of this Life in 
inorganic nature. Movement in general may be re- 

ence to which we may test the 
degree of perfection attained by 
lower forms of being, is obvious 
from the passages referred to, 
pp. 21 sq., 25 sq., and i. 465 
sq., supra, as well as from those 
which immediately follow. Of. 
further Part. An. ii. 10, 655, b, 
H7 sqq., (ten. An. i. 23, 731, a, 
24. In the former of these 
passages Aristotle says : plants 
have few and simple organs, 
TO 5e irpos T< Gfi 

TOVTUV erepa irpb rtpwv 
Kal TroXvxovo-repav, oawv /J.TJ fj.6vov 
rov rjv aAAa /cat TOV v fjv T] tyvffis 
. roiovro 5 eV-rt TO TWV 
ytvos- % yap fj,6vov 
TOU Qtiov TWV rjfjuv yvwpi- 
v, ?l /jLaXiffra iravTwv. In 
the latter : rfjs yap TWV QVTWV 
ovffias oufleV effnv &\\o epyov ouSe 
irpa^LS ou5e/xia TrA-V ^ T0 ^ OTTf pharos 
yeveffts . . . rov Se &ov ov^ovov 
TO yevvriffai fpyov (TOUTO yap 


Kal jvaxreus TWOS iravra jueTe^oufrt, 
ra fj.ev -n-Aetoro?, ra 5 eXarrovos, ra 
Sf ird/J.irav piKpus. a iffQ^ffiv yap 
fXovcriv, -T] 8 aiVrfhjo-ts yvuxris TI?. 
ravr-^s 5e TO rifjuov Kal an^ov iroXv 
Siafyfpei (TKOTTOvffi irpbs (ppAvricnv 
Kal irpbs TO TUV a^vx^v yevos. 
Trpbs jUev 7ap TO (ppovetv utrirep 
ouoev flvai 5o/fe? TO Koivcave iv a<pr)S 
KOL ytvffews /j.6t>ov, irpas Se dvato"- 
07jo-iav pe\TiffTov. It is not incon 
sistent with this view that, 
starting from man, Aristotle 
(Part. An. iv. 10, 686, b, 20 sqq.) 
should attribute to the different 
animal tribes a continually di 
minishing degree of perfection 
as compared with him, and (Hist. 

An. i. 6, 491, a, 19) should begin 
with man as being best known 
to us. Nor can we with FRANT- 
zius (Arist. -iib. die Tlieilc d. 
TMere,p. 315, 77; contrast MEYEK, 
Arist. TJiierh. 481 sqq.) conclude 
from these passages that Aristotle 
regards nature under the form of 
a retrogressive rather than a pro 
gressive development, and con 
ceives of its history as that of 
an ideal animal assuming a 
succession of degenerate shapes 
as it descends from the human 
to the vegetable form. For, in 
the first place, he does not always 
begin with man, but only when 
he is treating of the external 
organs ; when, on the other 
hand, he is dealing with the 
internal organisation, a field in 
which more is known o the 
lower animals than of men, he 
takes the opposite course (Hist-. 
An. i. 16 init., cf . Part. ii. 10, 656. 
a, 8). But, in the second place, 
it does not at all follow that that 
which is more known to us must 
in itself be the first either in 
point of value or of time, or 
that because Aristotle, in treating 
of the forms of organic life, 
begins with the more perfect and 
proceeds to the more imperfect, 
therefore nature follows the 
same course in producing them. 
On the contrary, he states as 
definitely as possible that nature 
proceeds in the reverse order; 
see, besides other passages, the 
preceding note. There is here 
no question of a metamorphosis 
such as that described, either 
retrogressive or progressive. 
Aristotle does not conceive of an 



garded as a sort of life. In a certain sense we attribute 
animation to everything : we talk of the life of the air 
and the wind, and find analogies to the phenomena of 
the organic life of animals in the sea. 1 Again, the 
world has its youth and age like plants and animals, 
except that they do not succeed each other as conditions 
of the whole, but are present simultaneously as alter 
nating states of its parts. A we 11- watered region may 
dry up and grow old, while an arid tract may spring 
into fresh life by timely moisture. When streams 
increase, the land about their mouths is gradually 
changed to sea; when they dry up, the sea becomes 
land. 2 When these changes take place slowly, length 

ideal individual either developing aK/ad^iv Kal <pO(i>eiv avayKalov rrj 
or degenerating into various 5e yf, rovro yiverai Kara ^pos 5/a 

forms. The organic forms do 

Oep/j.6rr]ra. As these 

not themselves pass into one increase or diminish, portions of 
another; the transition is effected the earth change their character, 

oxrre p.*xP l TW&J Hvvfipa Swarai 
5ia/teVetj/, e/ra %T)paiverai Kal yrjpd- 
d\iv crepoi Se roiroi fticac 

by nature as she rises to the 
fuller exercise of her creative 
power. Cf. p. 25, supra. 

1 See i. 459, n. 5, 460, n.l, sup., 

and Gen. An. iv. 10, 778, a, 2: Where a region dries up, the rivers 
/Bios yap ns teal Trvev/j.ar6s eVrt Kal decrease and finally disappear, 

land is 

rat Kal tvvSpoi yiyvovrai Kara utpos. 

yevevis Ka 

v. Meteor, ii. 2, 355, b, 4 

356, a, 33 sqq. 

- Cf. on this the fall and 

Upon the sea 


the sea retreats, and 
formed where the sea was before ; 
the opposite happens when the 
moisture of a district increases, 
remarkable exposition, Meteor, i. As examples of the former pro- 
14. The same regions, Aristotle cess, Aristotle in the following 
there says, are not always wet passage (351, b, 28 sqq., 352, b, 
or dry, but according as rivers 19 sqq.) names Egypt, which is 
arise or disappear, the land unmistakably a TrpJerxoxm rov 
retreats before the sea or the sea NeiAou, an epyovrov irora^ov (Sajpov 
before the land. This happens, rov irora/j.ov, HEROD, ii. 5), and 

the region surrounding the oracle 
of Ammon, which, like Egypt, 
lies below the level of the sea 

however, Kara nva rd^iv Kal irfpi- 
oSov. apx^l Se TOUTCOJ/ Kal diriov on 
Kal rf/s yys ra evrbs, SoffTrep ra 
(T(t>uara rci r&v (pvrwv Kal fyoov. 

and must therefore once have 
yypas. In regard been the sea bottom; Argolis 
to the latter, however, aaa irav and the neighbourhood of My- 


of time and the gradual character of the transformation 
cause the memory of them to be usually forgotten ; l 
when they happen suddenly they belong to that class 
of devastating inundations 2 to which Aristotle, following 
Plato, 3 attributed those relapses into primitive barbarism 
which, coeternal though the human race is assumed to be 

ceniii in Greece; the Ijosphorus. 
the shore of which is continually 
changing. Some, he says (352, 
a, 17 sqq. ; according to ii. 3, 
356, b, 9 sqq., he is thinking here 
of Democritus, but the same view 
is ascribed to A.naximander and 
Diogenes; cf. ZELLER, Ph. d. 6fr. 
i. 205, 2, 799, 4), attribute these 
changes to a change in the world 
as a whole, els yivopej/ov rov ovpavov, 
holding that the collective mass 
of the sea is diminished by 
gradual evaporation (contrast 
Meteor, ii. 3). But if in many 
places the sea changes into land 
and contrariwise land into sea, 
we cannot explain this upon the 
ground of a yevevis rov K6o~/j.ov 
ytXoiov yap Sia /miKpas Kal aKapiaias 
fj.eraf3o\as KLvelv TO TTUI>, 6 5e rr\s 
yr\s oyKOs Kal rb peyedos ovQtv ecrri 
STJTTOU Trpbs rbv o\ov ovpav6v. a\\a 
iravruv rovruv atriov 
on yiyvtrai Sta xP otfwl> 
olov ev TCUS /car fviavrbv 
, OVTCI) irepiuSov nvbs /j.e 

i/icbj/ Kal virppo\% ujjifipuv. 
OVK del Kara rovs avrovs 
TOTTOVS. Deucalion s flood was 
chiefly confined to ancient Hellas 
or the country watered by the 
Achelous. Cf. 352, b, 1(5: eVel 
8 avdyKi] rov o\ov [the whole 
globe] yiyvtffOai JJLGV Tiva /xero- 



robs avrovs ad 

rowovs vypovs T tlvai OaAarrrj Kal 
TTOTctyuoTy Kal ^rjpovs. The Tariais, 
consequently, and the Nile will 
one day cease to flow, and the 
Palus Maeotis will be dried up : 
rb yap tpyov avrwv *x fl " fp 119 " ^ 
Xp6vos OVK fx ei - 

1 Ibid. 351, b, 8 sqq, which 
also refers to Egypt. 

* The other possibility, of a 
sudden destroying heat, is even 
more completely neglected by 
Aristotle than by Plato. 

:i Plato introduces the story 
of the Atlantides in the Tinwus 
with the remark that devastating 
tempests, at one time of fire, as 
in the time of Phaethon, at 
another of flood, overtake man 
kind at intervals. When cities, 
with all their attendant civilisa 
tion, become overwhelmed in the 
latter, the survivors, who are for 
the most part semi-barbarous 
mountaineers, must begin again 
from the beginning. Hence we 
have a youthful Hellenic culture 
side by side with an effete 
Egyptian civilisation. The same 
conception recurs in the account 
of the gradual rise of civilised 
states out of primitive barbarism, 
in the Lans, iii. 676, B sqq. the 
question whether the human race 
has existed from all eternity or 
only for an indefinitely long 
time (vi. 781, B) being left 



with the world, 1 yet from time to time befall it in the 
history of its civilisation. 2 Life nevertheless in the strict 
sense exists only, as Aristotle emphatically declares, in 
beings which are moved by their own soul, ? .<?. in Plants 
and Animals/ 3 

1 Aristotle does not, indeed, 
expressly say that this is so in 
any extant passage of his writ 
ings; it follows, however, from 
his whole view of the world that 
he could not have assigned a 
beginning to the human race 
any more than to the world it 
self. As man is the end of 
nature, she must have been im 
perfect for an infinite period of 
time, if at any time the human 
race did not as yet exist. More 
over, Aristotle actually says (cf. 
i. 475, n. 4, 508, n. 2, supra, 
that in the history of civilisation 
the same discoveries have been 
made an infinite number of times, 
and his pupil, Theophrastus, 
among other arguments against 
the eternity of the world con 
troverts that which uses the 
comparative recentness of these 
discoveries to prove that mankind 
came into being within a definite 
period of time. See Ch. XII. part 
3. According to CENSORINUS, 
4, 3. Aristotle taught the eternity 
of the human race in one of his 
own writings. The question which 
he discusses Gen. An. iii. 11, 
762, b, 28 sqq. how we are to 
conceive of the origin of man 
and the four-footed tribes (efaep 
syevovro TTOTC yriyevf is, Sxnrep 
(paa i rij/fs . . . eiTrep fy ris ap^ 
TTJS yfvffffws iraffi TO?S ipots) is 

suggested hypothetically, and 
not from the point of view of 
his own theory. Cf. BERNAYS, 
Theoph/r. i . d. Frommigli. 44 sq. 
- It has already been shown 

1. 475, n. 4, 508, n. 2, and 25G, 
n. 2, supra, and will be still 
further proved Ch. XII. part 

2, that Aristotle regards reli 
gious beliefs and proverbial 
truths as remnants of a civilisa 
tion which has been destroyed 
by devastations of nature. These 
devastations, however (accord 
ing to p. 30, n. 2), can only have 
affected particular parts of the 
earth, although often so wide 
that the scanty survivors of the 
former population were forced to 
begin again from the very begin 
ning. When, therefore, CEN 
SORINUS, 18, 11, says of the great 
minus mundi (on which see ZEL- 
LER, Ph. d. Gr. i. G84, n. 4, and 
250), quern Aristoteles maximum 
potius quam magnum appellat, we 
may not conclude (as BERNAYS, 
ibid. 170, shows) that Aristotle 
conceived of periodic revolutions 
in the history of the universe or 
even of the earth as a whole. 
He may have employed the ex 
pression in discussing the views of 
others perhaps in the books upon 
philosophy (on which see p. 56 

:t See p. 1, supra. 


2. Plants. 

Plants stand lowest in the scale of living creatures. 1 
They first display a real soul, inhabiting an organic 
body, and no mere analogue of a soul. Yet this soul is 
of the lowest sort, and its functions are confined to 
nutrition and propagation. 2 Vegetables are not en 
dowed with sensation and locomotion or the faculties of 
life from which they spring. 3 They have no vital point 
of unity (no /jLsaorrjs), as is proved by the fact that 
they continue to live after being cut in pieces; and 
owing to this defect they are insensible to the form 
of that which operates upon them. 4 Hence we may 
compare them to animals that have coalesced; for 
though in reality they have but one soul, they combine 
several potential souls. 5 Again the sexes have not yet 

1 On Aristotle s botanical they have no right and left side, 
treatise cf. p. 93. All that his but merely an upper and a lower ; 
extant works contain upon the Inyr. An. c. 4, 705, a. 29-b, 21 
subject of plants is to be found Jurent. c. 1, 467, b, 32; De Ccel.o, 
collected in WIMMEE S Phyto- ii. 2, 284, b, 27, 285, a, 16, cf. i. 
logioe Aristot. Fragmenta (Bres- 497, n. 1, supra. On Plato s view 
laa, 1838). of plants, which in spite of parti- 

2 See p. 1, n. 3, supra. cular deviations from Aristotle s 

3 Seep. 21, n. 2, supra. As is yet nearly related to it, see Ph. 
plants never awake to sensation, d. Gr. pp. 731, 714, 7. 

their condition is like an eternal 4 De An. i. 5, 411, b, 19, ii. 

sleep, and they do not, accord- 2, 413,b,16,c. 12, 424, a 32 ; Long. 

ingly, participate in the alterna- Vitoe, c. 6, 467, a, 18; Juv. et Sen. 

tions of sleep and waking (De c. 2, 468, a, 28. See also foil. n. 

Somno,!, 454, a, 15 ; Gen. An. v. 5 Juv. et Sen. 2, 468, a, 29 

1, 778, b, 31 sqq.). For the sqq., where, speaking of insects 

same reason there is no distinc- which can live in a divided form, 

tion between the front and the he says : they are plants which 

back in plants, for this depends live on in slips ; they have only 

upon the position of the different one soul tvepyela, but several 

organs of sense. Finally, being 5ui/a/*et. eo//ca<n yap rk roiavTa 

without the power of locomotion T&V $<ov TroAAots tpois ffv/nirc- 

while they participate in growth, (f>vK6<nv. Gen. An. i. 28, 731, a, 




attained to separate existence in them: confined to 
mere vitality and the propagation of their species, they 
remain in the condition of perpetual union of the sexes. 1 
The nature of their body corresponds to this incom 
pleteness in the life of their soul. Its material com 
position consists principally of earth ; 2 its structure is 
simple, designed for few functions, and therefore pro 
vided with few organs ; 3 deriving its nourishment from 
the earth, and being deprived of locomotion, it is rooted 
to the ground, and the upper part of it, which corre 
sponds to the head of animals, is turned downwards 
the better member to the worse place. 4 It is true that 
in its contrivance we do not altogether fail to trace the 
designing faculty of nature, but we do so only indis 
tinctly. 5 But, though in comparison with other living 
creatures plants occupy so low a place, compared with 

food (Gen. An. iii. 2, 753, b, 25 ; 
H. An. vii. 19, 601, b, 11), for 
the consumption of which heat 
is necessary (see p. 12, n. 3, and 
p. 14, n. 2 ad fin., supra). 

3 De An ii. 1, 412, b, 1 ; 
Part. An. ii. 10, 655, b, 37; 
Phyg. viii. 7, 261, a, 15. 

4 Ingr. An. c. 4 init. c. 5, 
706, b, 3 sqq. ; Long. Vita>, 6, 467, 
b, 2 ; Juv. et Sen. c. 1 fin. ; Part. 
An. iv. 7, 683, b, 18, c. 10, 686, b, 
31 sqq. See further p. 27, n. \,sup. 

5 Phys. ii. 8, 199, a, 23 : teal Iv 

< yLv6^jiva Trpbs rb re Aos, olov TO. 
<pv\\a rrjs rov Kapirov IVe/co 

21 : drexvcDs toiKe TO. a uxrirep 
(pvTa eli/at Siaiperd. Zte An. ii. 2, 
413, b, 18 : ws ova-ris rfjs eV TOVTOIS 

fKaffrtu (j)vrw, Suva^ei 8e 
Cf . Part. An. iv. 5, 682, a, 6 ; De 
Rcsp. c. 17, 479, a, 1 ; Ingr. An. 
7, 707, b, 2. 

1 Gen. An. i. 23, 731, a, i. 24, 
b, 8, c. 20, 728, b, 32 sqq. c. 4, 
717, a, 21, ii. 4 fin. iv. 1, 763, 
b, 24, iii. 10, 759, b, 30; Hist. 
An. viii. 1, 588, b, 24, iv. 11, 538, 

a, 18. 

2 De Resp. 13, 14, 477, a, 27, 

b, 23 sqq. ; Gen. An. iii. 11, 7 61, a, 
29. That Aristotle held that there 
were other constituents in plants 
besides earth is obvious from the 
passage cited i. 482, n. 3, supra. 
According to Meteor, iv. 8, 384, 
b, 30, plants consist of earth and 
water, the water serving for their 

ei/e/ca ruv KOLOTTWV [sc. e%et] Koi ras 
plfas OVK. 6.v<a a\\a warco eVe/ca rfjs 
rpo(pris. b, 9 : Kal eV ro is (pvTo"is 
b eVe/ca rov, TJTTOV 5e 



the inanimate world the operation of the soul in plants, 
and especially the propagation of the species, must be 
placed very high. 1 As all terrestrial things imitate 
by their endless reproduction the eternity of Heaven, 
so living creatures are enabled by means of procreation 
to partake, within the limits of their own particular 
species, of the eternal and the divine. 2 This then 
is the highest aim of vegetable life. A more elevated 
rank of vitality appears in Animals, 4 to which Aristotle 

1 Cf. preceding- note and p. 
13 sqq. 

- Gen. An, ii. 1, 731, b, 31: 
^Trei yap aSvvaros r) tyixris rov 
roLOV Tov yevnvs ai Sios efyai, /ca0 l bi> 
eVSe xercu rpo-Kov, Kara. rovrov 
fffnv fctSiov rb yiyi/6/utvov. apiO/mp 
/j.ev ovv dSiWroi/, .... efffei 5 
eVSe xerar Sib yevos del avQpwirwv 
Kal <?<av earl Kal <pvra>v. Ibid. 
735, a, 16 : all animals and plants 
have rb epeirriKov rovro 5 eWt 
rb yevvnriicbv eVe pou olov avro 
rovro 70/3 iravrbs (pixrei reAeiou 
fpyov Kal &ov Kal (pvrov. De An. 
ii. 4, 415, a, 2(5 : (pvffiK&rarov yap 
r&v tpycav rots a><nv, oaa re\eia 
Kal yur/ TTT/pco/xara, r) TT/J/ y4vfffiv 
avTOfj.drrjv e^et, rb iroirjo-ai erepoi/ 
olov avrb, faov yuei/ (i^oi/, (pvrbv 5e 
(pvrbf, iva rov del Kal rov Oeiov 
f-ierexvinv fi Svvavrai &c. Polit. 
i. 2, 1252, a, 28. Cf . the passages, 
Gen. etCorr. ii. 10 and 11 (i. 511, 
n. 3, s/>.), from which (Econ, i. 3, 
1343, b, 23 is copied, and on the 
propositions of Plato which 
Aristotle here follows, Ph. d. Gr i 
512, 3. 

3 DeAn. ii.4. Seep. 21, n. 1, 

* Among further details of 
Aristotle s doctrine of plants may 
be mentioned: (1) his division 

of the plant into root, stem 
branches, and leaves. The root 
is the nutritive organ, and the 
leaves are veined in order to dif 
fuse the nutriment which is con 
tained in the sap (Part. An. iv 
4, 678, a, 9, iii. 5, 668, a, 22; 
Jnv. et Sen. 3, 468, b, 24). Again 
(Part. An. ii. lOinit.), he divides 
the bodies of plants and animals 
into three chief parts: that by 
which they take up food into 
their system (the head), that by 
which they rid themselves of su 
perfluous matter, and that which 
lies in the middle between these 
two. In pi ants, the root is the head 
(see p. 27, n. l,svpra~) ; as the nu 
triment they draw from the earth 
is already digested, they require 
no store- chamber for useless sur 
plus (on this see also Gen. An. ii. 

4, 740, a, 25, b, 8); nevertheless^ 
the fruit and the seed which 
form at the opposite end from 
the root are secretions (Part, in 
ii. 3, 10, 650, a, 20, 655, b, 3<> 
iv. 4, 678, a, 11 : H. An. iv. 6^ 
531, b, 8, with which De Sensv, 

5, 445, a, 19, where the elements 
which plants fail to absorb and 
leave behind in the soil seem to 
be regarded as irepirr^ara of the 
food of plants, is not inconsis- 




accordingly devoted so large a portion of his scientific 
activity. 1 

tent). (2) Earth, and water are 
the food of plants (Gen. et Corr, 
ii. 8, 335, a, 11 ; Part. An. ii. 3, 
650, a, 3, and p. 34, n. 2, supra. 
Cf II An. vii. 19, 601, b, 12 ; 
Gen. An. iii. 11, 762, b, 12); it 
is the sweet part of their food 
that nourishes plants and animals 
(De Semni, 4, 442, a, 1-12); this 
they consume by aid of their vital 
heat (of. p. 12, n. 3, and p. 14, n. 2, 
itujtrtt, and Part. An. n. 3, 6oO, 
a, 3 sqq.), which, in its turn, is 
supplied to them partly from 
thoir food, partly from the 
surrounding atmosphere, albeit 
plants do not require respiration ; 
if the atmosphere is too cold or 
too hot the vital heat is destroyed 
and the plant withers (De Sensu, 
c. 6; cLRespir. 17, 478, b, 31). 
As to the influence exercised 
upon the character and colour of 
plants by the nature of the soil 
and water, see Polit. vii. 16, 1335, 
b 18; Gen. An. ii. 4, 738, b, 32 
sqq. v. 6, 786, a, 2 sqq. ; H. An. v. 
11 543, b, 23; De Sensu, 4, 441, a, 
ll 30; cf. Prdbl. 20, 12; De 
Color, c. 5. -(3) The seed and the 
fruit of plants are made of the 
surplus portion of their food 
(Part. An. ii. 10, 655, b, 35, c. 7, 
638, a, 24 ; Gen. An. iii. 1, 749, 
b 07, 750, a, 20, i. 18,722, a, 11, 
723 b, 16, 724, b, 19, c. 20, 728, 
a, 26, c. 23, 731, a, 2 sqq. ; Meteor. 
iv. 3, 380, a, 11); they contain 
both the germ and the food of 
the new plant (De An. ii. 1, 412, 
b,26; Gen.An.ii. 4, 740, b, 6, i. 
23, 731, a, 7) ; smaller plants are 
more fruitful, being able to ex 
pend more material upon the 
formation of seeds: on the other 

hand, excess! vefruitf ulness stunts 

and destroys plants, because it 
absorbs too much of the nutritive 
substance (Gen. An. i. 8, 718, b, 
12, iii. 1, 749, b, 26, 750, a, 20 
sqq. iv. 4, 771, b, 13, i. 18, 725, 
b 25; cf. //. An.v. 14, 546, a, 1 

on barren trees, especially the 
wild fig-tree, see Gen. An. i. 18, 
726, a, 6, c. 1, 715, b, 21, iii. 5, 
755, b, 10; //. An. v. 32, 557, b, 
25). On the origin of the seed, 
see the remarks, Gen. An. i. 20, 
728, b, 32 sqq. c. 18, 722, a, 11, 
723, b, 9. On the development of 
the germ from the seed and on pro 
pagation by slips, Jnv. et Sen. c. 
3, 468, b, 18-28 (cf. WiMMER, p. 
31; BRANDIS, p. 1240): Gen. An. 
ii. 4 739, b, 34, c. 6, 741, b, 34, 
iii. 2, 752, a, 21, c. 11, 761, b, 26; 
Respir. c. 17, 478, b, 33. On self- 
generation in plants and animals, 
and on parasites, there are remarks 
in Gen. An. i. 1, 715, b, 25, iii. 11, 
762, b, 9, 18; H. An. v. 1, 539, 

a, 16. (4) On the length of life 

and the decay of plants vide 
Meteor, i. 14, 351, a, 27 ; Longit. 
Vita?, c. 4, 5, 466, a, 9, 20 sqq. c. 
6 ; De Respir. 17, 478, b, 27 ; cf. 
Gen. An. iii. 1, 750, a, 20; on the 
fall of the leaf and evergreens, 
Gen. An, v. 3, 783, b, 10-22. 

1 On the sources from which 
he received assistance, ride the 
valuable account of BRANDIS, ii.b, 
1298-1305. Of his predecessors 
in this field the most important 
was undoubtedly Democritus, 
whom he frequently mentions 
with the greatest respect. He 
refers further to certain views 
of Diogenes of Apollonia, Anax- 
agoras, Empedocles, Parmenides, 



3. Animals. 

The powers of nutrition and propagation are accom 
panied in all animals by sensation, the feeling of plea 
sure and pain, and the appetites : in most of them also 
by the power of locomotion. Hence the sentient and 
the motive soul is now added, to the vegetable. 1 Even 
that moral and intellectual life which reaches its full 
development in man may be dimly traced in the lower 
animals : they exhibit gentleness and fierceness, fear 
and courage, cunning and understanding ; nor do we 
fail to perceive an analogue to the scientific faculty of 
men in the teachableness of certain animals ; while 
conversely children display the same kind of rudi- 

Alcmason, Herodorus, Leophanes, 
Syermesis, Polybus, several state 
ments of Ctesias and Herodotus 
(which, however, he treats with 
critical distrust), and now and 
then, rather by way of literary 
embellishment, to the poets. 
Notwithstanding all these, he 
must have mainly relied for his 
knowledge of animals upon his 
own observations, supplemented 
as those were by information 
received from shepherds, hunters, 
fishermen, breeders, and veterin 
ary doctors. His theory, \vith the 
exception perhaps of a few isol 
ated points, maybe regarded as his 
own original work. The setting 
into place and putting to use of 
the facts left him by his predeces 
sors, BEANDIS remarks, 1303, as 
well as the scientific form which 
he gave to zoology, are in all pro 
bability Aristotle s own work. 

LANGE, indeed, judges differently, 
Gescli. d. Material, i. 61 : The 
belief that Aristotle was a great 
discoverer in natural science is 
still widely diffused. The know 
ledge, however, that he had 
many predecessors in this field 
. . . has necessarily caused this 
opinion to be much critisised, c. 
Yet when we ask where we hear 
of these predecessors, LANGE 
refers us (pp. 129, 11, 135, 50) 
merely to a quotation from MUL- 
LACH, Fr. Phil. i. 338, who, how 
ever, expresses himself much 
more guardedly: haud scio an 
Stagirites illam qua reliquos phi- 
losophos superat erudition em ali- 
qua ex parte Democriti librorum 
lectioni debuerit. On the aid 
which Alexander is said to have 
lent Aristotle in his zoological 
investigations see p. 29 sq. 
1 See p. 21, supra. 



mentary moral and intellectual development which we 
detect in brutes. 1 

The character and structure of their bodies answer 

1141, a, 26; Part. An. ii. 1, 4, 
<>48, a, 5, 650, b, 24. In the 
ninth book of his Natural History 
Aristotle treats not only of habits 
of animals in general but more 
especially of the traces of intelli 
gence which they exhibit. Of 
all quadrupeds the sheep has the 
smallest amount of intelligence 
(c. 3, 610, b, 22) ; the stag, on 
the other hand, displays a large 
amount (c. 5). Bears, dogs, 
panthers, and many other ani 
mals find out the proper remedies 
against wounds and sickness, and 
the proper means of assistance 
against the attacks of other ani 
mals (c. 6). With what intelli 
gence again do swallows build 
their nests, and the pigeon pro 
vide for his mate and his young 
(c. 7); how cunningly partridges 
manage their love-affairs, and 
hatch and protect their broods 
(c. 8) ; how cleverly the crane 
directs his flight (c. 10) ; what 
design is displayed in the habits 
of birds in general, in the choice 
of a habitation, in the building 
of their nests, in the search for 
food (see ibid. c. 11-36). In 
like manner Aristotle remarks 
upon the cunning of many marine 
animals (c. 37), the industry of 
spiders (c. 39), of bees, wasps, 
and the like (c. 40-43), the 
docility and cleverness of ele 
phants (c. 46), the moral instinct 
of camels and horses (c. 47), the 
humane disposition of dolphins 
(c. 48), &c. ; with all which it 
is only natural that much that 
is questionable should be mixed 

1 //. An. viii. 1, 588, a, 18 : 
fvecTTi yap &c. (see p. 27, n. 6, su- 
pra). Kal yap r]fj.c-p6rr)s Kal dypio- 
rr]s Kal irpaoT^s Kal %aAe7roT7js Kal 
avSpia Kal SeiAi a Kal (p6fioi Ka.1 Gappy 
Kal 9v/Li.ol Kal iravovpylai Kal TTJS 
TTfpl r^jv Sidvoiav (Tvvsfftuis evfLffiv 
eV iro\\rns avr&v o^otOTTjres. (For 
the continuation of this passage 
see p. 27, n. 6.) Ibid. ix. 1 init. : 
TO. 8 ijdri ru>i> cpa)v 6(7x1 ru>T |Uej/ 
afji.o.vpoTfpiov Kal 
i)TTOi> 7)/uUis evr)\a Kara 
<Tiv, T&v 8e /j.aKpo/3i& 
repo. tyaivovrai yap e^oi/Ta TIVO. 
SvvauLV irepl eKavrov riav rrjs xj/uxf/s 
jra6r]/j.drcav (pv<ntt}]v, irepi re (ppovr)- 
ffiv Kal ev fiBetav Kal avfip iav Kal 
SfiAiai/, Trept re Trpaoryra Kal x a ^ f - 
TTOTTjra Kal TO.S &\\as ras TOiavras 
e|et?. eVia ,8e KOivoovet: nvbs ana 
Kal jJiaQtiffttos Kal SiSatr/caAias. ra 
/j.ff Trap aAA^Aajj/ ra 8e :al irapa 
T(av avOpunruv, offa-rrep aKoijs fjifre- 
^ei, ,ur? jj.6vov offa TWV tyoty&v aAA 
offa Kal rwv arj/uLetcav BiaiffdavcraL 
ras 5m4>opas. (Cf. c. 3 init. : ra 
8 tfdr) riav Qpwv . . . 8ia<pepei Kara 
re 8ei\{av Kal Trpctoryra Kal avftpiav 
Kal f]/j.tp6r riTa Kal vovv re Kal 
avoiav.) After discussing the 
difference between the sexes 
with respect to disposition, Ari 
stotle continues, G08, b, 4: rovruv 
8 i^j/Tj /j.ev rwv T)QS>v tarlv eV 
iracnv ws etVeTi/, /u.a\\ov 8f (pavep-J!)- 
rtpa fv rots fx ovffL /uAAoi/ yOos 
Kal jj.d\i(rra eV ai dpcaww rovro yap 

&c. Cf. i. 1, 488, b, 12 sqq.; Gen. 
An. i. 23 (see p. 28, n. 3, supra). 
Upon the docility and sagacity 
of many animals see also Metaph. 
i. 1, 980, a, 27 sqq. ; Etli. iv. 7, 

to the higher rank which animals occupy in the scale of 
animated nature. Their more numerous and various 
functions require a greater number and complexity of 
organs. Aristotle discusses all these organs in his 
treatise on the Parts of Animals. 1 First (ii. 2-9) he 
describes the homogeneous materials of which they 
consist blood, fat, marrow, brain, flesh, bones, sinews, 
veins, skin, &c. The fundamental constituents of these 
materials are the elements of warmth, cold, dryness, 
and humidity. 2 Flesh, or that which corresponds to it 
amongst the lower classes of animals, 3 is the most essen 
tial and indispensable portion of the animal economy : 
for Aristotle, unacquainted as he was with the nerves, 
believed that flesh was the medium of the most universal 
of the senses, that of touch, and therefore the most 
universal organ of animal life. 4 Bones, sinews, and 
external coverings serve to unite and protect the flesh. 5 
The blood (j furnishes the nourishment of the various solid 

1 More accurately in the eVrii/ 0^77, TCCUTTJS 5 cuVflijT^ptov TO 
last three books of this treatise ; rotovrov /j.6pt6v tffriv. On the 
see i. 92, n. 1, and i. 89, n. 2, importance of flesh for sensation 
supra, on these arid the Avaro/nai. see, further, c. 1, 647, a, 19, c. 3, 

2 Part. An. ii. 2 init.-c. 3, 650, b, 5, c. 10, 656, b, 34; H. 
660, a, 2, referring to the different An. i. 3, 4, 489, a, 18,23; but 
respects in which one thing is especially De An. ii. 11, 422, b, 
said to be warmer than another, 19, 34 sqq. 423, b, 1 sqq. 29, iii. 
and the transition from one state 2, 426, b, 15. The organ of 
into another. sensation itself is the heart (see 

3 . Cf. p. 26, n. 2, supra. infra}. 

4 Part. ii. 8 init. : irpurov 5 Part. ii. 8, 653, b, 30 sqq. 

r<TKrrW] TTfpl ffapitbs eV TO IS 6 The blood, or that which cor- 

%X ovffl o-dpKas, ev 8e TO IS &\\ois TO responds to it (see p. 26, n. 1. sup.}, 

avaXoyov TOVTO yap apx^) Kal is most immediately food (re- 

0-oo/j.a /ca0 curb TWV ywi earLv. Aeurcu a or eVxaraj rpotpfy to the 

$r)\ov 5e /car& rbv \6yov TO yap animal body (De Somwo, c. 3, 

<ov opi6/j.e9a rw ex eiv a-laQficriv, 456, a, 34 ; Part. ii. 3, 650, a, 

TTOWTOV 5e TV "Kptarw a\nt\ 5 32 sqq. c. 4, 651, a, 12 ; Gen. An. 


constituents. ^The brain serves to cool the blood, 1 and 
is therefore composed of the cold elements of earth and 
water ; 2 the marrow 3 and other parts 4 are made of 
surplus blood. Here, therefore, we may notice a 
graduated scale of means and ends. The homogeneous 
elements of the body exist for the sake of the organic, 5 
but while some of them fulfil their end directly as parts of 
the organism, a second class serves merely as nutriment 
to the former, and a third consists of the superfluous 
remnant of the second, 6 which nevertheless has a use of 
its own in the economy of Nature and is not lost. 7 
Each of these materials is of superior or inferior quality 
according to its purpose, so that even here different 
animals and different parts of the same animal do not 
stand upon the same level. 8 The soul resides primarily 

ii. 4, 740, a, 21, and passim} ; on 
its quality, therefore, much of 
the life both of soul and body 
depends ; Part. An. ibid., and c. 
2, 648, a, 2 sqq. According to 
the latter passage, thick warm 
blood is more conducive to 
strength, thin cool blood to sense 
perception, and thought. The 
best mixture is one of warm but 
thin and pure blood. 

1 Ibid. c.7 (seep 16,n.6,.w/;.). explaining the three kinds of 
Only animals which have blood, 

therefore, have a brain (ibid. 
652, b, 23) ; human beings have a 
proportionately larger one than 
beasts, men than women (653, a, 
27), because their blood, being 
warmer, requires more to cool it. 
Bloodless animals, however, have 
something analogous to the brain ; 
see p. 26. n. 8, svpra. 

2 Ibid. 652, b, 22. 

3 Ibid. c. 6 fin. : \b /ueAos] 
T/}S ajjUctT Kris rpotyijs TTJS fls offTa 

Kal &Kavdav 

4 Such as the seed, which is 
afterwards discussed, and the 
milk (Gen. An. iv. 8). 

5 See i. 517, n. 6, ii. p. 3, n. 2, 
and p. 28, n. 1, supra. 

6 Part. ii. 2, 647, b, 20 sqq. 

7 See i. 465, n. 2, supra. 
Part. ii. 2, 647, b, 29 (after 

avrav 8e TOVTUV at 
Siatyopal Trpbs a\\r)\a rov fieXriovos 
eiffiv, olov ru>v re &\\wi/ Kal 
irpbs al/ma TO jtiei/ yap 
\fTrrorepov TO 5e iraxyTtpov Kal rb 
IJ.GV Kadapwrepov eoTi rb Se 

Tfpov rb Se dep^repov ei/ re TOLS 
/j-opiois rov tvbs fyov (TO yap eV TO?S 
avca pepfffi irpbs TO KOTW /u6pia 
TavTats Tals Siacpopa is} Kal 
-jrpbs eVepoj/. Similar differ 
ences in flesh are referred to, 



in the Pneuma, which is the cause of vital heat, and 
which in turn has its chief seat in the heart. 1 

If we proceed to consider the organs formed of 
homogeneous materials, we must notice in the first 
place that animals possess a point of functional unity, 
and consequently an organ in which their vitality is 
centred : 2 in creatures that have blood this organ is the 
heart, in others something similar ; 3 it is only some of 
the very lowest classes that so closely resemble plants 
as to possess at least potentially several points of 
vitality and to continue living after they have been 
cut in pieces. 4 This central organ is formed at the 
very beginning of life in every animal, and cannot 
be destroyed without its dissolution. 5 Its function 6 

all identified ; cf . MEYEK, Arist. 
TMerk. 224). 

5 Part. iii. 4, 666, a, 10, 20, 
667, a, 32; De Vita, 3, 468, b, 
28 ; Gen. An. ii. 4, 739, b, 33, 
740, a, 24, where the view of 
Democritus is controverted which 
represented the outer portions 
as being formed first, as though 
we were dealing with figures of 
wood or stone and not with 
living beings, whose evolution 
proceeds from within outwards. 

fi MEYER, Arist. TMerk. 425 
sqq. The blood is boiled out of 
the food by means of the heat of 
the heart (De Resplr. 20, 480, 
2 sqq.) ; the circulation of the 
blood, as well as the distinction 
between veins and arteries 
(Part. iii. 4, 666, a, 6. De Respir. 
20, 480, a, 10, and the whole 
description of the system of the 
veins, Part. iii. 5 ; Hist. An. iii. 
3), was unknown to Aristotle, 
who, however, was acquainted 
with the beating of the heart and 

Part. iii. 3, 665, a, 1, c. 7, 670, b, 
2. De An. ii. 9, 421, a, 25 : ol 
/j.V yap ffK\f\p6ffapKoi acpve is T^V 
Siavoiav, ol 8e i*.a\a.K.6aapK.oi. evcpvets. 

1 Cf. p. 6, n. 2, supra. 

2 See p. 33, n. 4, supra. 

3 See p. 26, n. 7, supra, and 
Gen. An. ii. 4, 738, b, 16 : o.pxn 7P 
TTJS (frvffeus 77 Kapdia Kal rb avaXoyov, 
rb Se KCXTW irpoffB^Kf] Kal TOVTOV 
Xapiv. De Vita et M. c. 2-4 ; Part. 
iii. 4, 665, b, 9 sqq. c. 5, 667, b, 
21. For a more detailed account 
of the parts which, according to 
Aristotle, represent the heart, 
and are always situated in the 
centre of the body, see Part. iv. 
5, 681, b, 12-682, b, 8 ; on their 
situation see further, Juv. et Sen. 
2, 468, a, 20. 

4 Aristotle remarks this, De 
An. ii. 2, 413, b, 16 sqq. ; Juv. et 
Sen. 2, 468, a, 26 sqq. ; Ingr. An. 
7, 707, a, 27 sqq. ; Part. An. iii. 
5, 667, b, 23, iv. 5, 682, b, 1 sqq. 
(see p. 33, n. 5, supra}, of many 
insects (which have not yet been 



consists partly in preparing the blood, and partly in 
producing sensation and motion. Next in importance 

the pulse (cf. i.262, n.l,fftp.)and 
mentions the different quality of 
the blood (see infra, and cf . p. 40, 
D. 8, supra). He also accurately 
describes many of the veins 
(Part. iii. 5, Hist. An. Hi. 3, 513, 

a, 12 sqq. cf. PHILIPPSON, "TArj 
avOp. p. 28). The veins have 
their source, not, as Hippocrates 
and his school held, in the head, 
but in the heart (Part. ii. 9, 654, 

b, 11, iii. 4, 665, b, 15, 27, c. 5 
init. ; Hist. An. iii. 3, 513, a, 21 : 
Gen. An. ii. 4, 740, a, 21 ; 
De Somno, 3, 456, b, 1). The 
separation between the purer and 
the thicker blood is effected, at 
least in the case of all the larger 
animals, in the heart, the former 
passing upwards, the latter down 
wards (Dc Somno, c. 3, 458, a, 
13 sqq. ; Part. iii. 4, 665, b, 27 
sqq. ; Hist. An. iii. IS), 521, a, 9). 
The native heat of the heart 
enables the blood, and this again 
enables the body, to retain its 
heat (Part. iii. 5, fi67, b, 26); the 
heart, Part. iii. 7, 670, a, 24, is 
therefore compared to the Acro 
polis, as the place in which 
Nature maintains her sacred fire. 
The boiling of the blood produces 
(v. MEYEE) steam in the heart, 
causing the latter to heave and 
thus expanding the chest ; into 
the space, thus left vacant, air 
rushes and so cools the whole 
that it again contracts until the 
steam which is generated in the 
heart again produces the pulsation 
which is transmitted through all 
the veins and is accompanied by 
respiration (Part. ii. 1, 647, a, 
24, iii. 2, 665, b; Hist. An. i. 16, 
495, b, 10 ; De Respir. 20, 479, 

b, 30, 480, a, 2, 14, c. 21, 480, a, 
24, b, 17). As the cause of 
respiration, the heart is also the 
cause of motion ; Do Somno, 2, 
456, a, 5, 15, cf. Ingr. An. c. 6, 
707, a, 6 sqq. The sinews, more 
over, have their source in the 
heart, which is itself very sinewy, 
although they are not wholly 
dependent upon it (Hist. An. 
iii. 5; Part. iii. 4, 666, b, 13). 
Aristotle, however, does not ex 
plain how the limbs are set in 
motion by the heart (see MEYER, 
p. 440). The heart is the primary 
seat of sensation and of the 
sensitive life: Part. An. ii. ], 
647, a, 24 sqq. c. 10, 656, a, 27 
sqq. b, 24, iii. 4, 666, a, 11, c. 5, 
667, b, 21 sqq., iv. 5 (see p. 41, n. 3, 
supra) ; De Somno, 2, 456, a, 3 ; 
Juv. et Sen. 3, 469, a, 10 sqq. b, 3. 
Cf. Ch. X., part 3, infra. The 
blood vessels are the channels by 
means of which sensations reach 
the heart (Part. iii. 4, 666, a, 16), 
although the blood itself is with 
out sensation (ibid 1 , and Part. ii. 
3, 650, b, 3, c. 7, 652, b, 5). The 
sense of touch transmits itself by 
means of the flesh (seep. 39, n. 4, 
supra ), the others through pas 
sages (Tro poi) which extend from 
the organs of sense to the heart 
(Gen. An. v. 2, 781, a, 20), and 
by which we must suppose him 
to mean the veins, as MEYEE, p. 
427 sq., andPniLiPPSOX, passage 
referred to above (in treating of 
the TTopot which lead to the brain : 
Hist. An. i. 16, 495, a, 11, iv. 8, 
533, a, 12 ; Part. An. ii. 10, 656, 
b, 16) show ; cf. Juv. et Sen. 3, 
469, a, 12 ; Part. ii. 10, 656, a, 
29; Gen. An. ii. 6, 744, a, 1; 



to the heart is the brain, 1 the purpose of which, as we 
already know, 2 is to cool the blood and temper the 
warmth arising from the heart, Aristotle directly 
contradicts the notion that it is the seat of sensation. 3 
The lungs are also used for cooling the blood, the 
windpipe 4 supplying them with air. 5 With a view to this 
purpose, their nature is varied according to the greater 
or less amount of internal heat an animal possesses. 
The lungs of mammals are the fullest of blood ; those of 
birds and amphibious beasts, of air. 6 Fishes, which are 

Hist. An. iii. 3, 514, a, 19, i. 11, 
492, a, 21. In the case of the 
senses of smell and hearing, 
between the objects perceived 
and the veins that lead to the 
heart, there is further interposed 
the Trvv/j.a (rv/u.<f)VTov ; Gen. An. ii. 
6, 744, a, 1 ; Part. ii. 16, 659, b, 
15. The nerves are unknown to 
Aristotle ; cf. PHILIPPSON, Hid. 
and MEYER, p. 432 : if he was 
led to the theory of the above- 
mentioned ir6poi by which 
SCHNEIDER (Arist. Hist. An. iii. 
47) and FRANTZIUS (Arist. iib. 
die TJieile d. Thiere, p. 280, 54) 
understand him to mean nerves 
by the actual observation of cer 
tain of the nerves, this of itself 
would be a proof that he did not 
know them as nerves. See also 
Oh. X. part 3. 

1 Part. iii. 11, 673, b, 10. 

2 See p. 40, n. 1, supra. The 
spinal marrow is united to the 
brain for the purpose of being 
cooled by it. 

3 Part . ii. 10, 656, a, 1 5 sqq. 
(where Aristotle has chiefly in 
view PLATO S Timteus, 75, B sq.) ; 
cf. MEYER, p. 431. 

4 See Part. iii. 3. Hist. An. 
iv. 9, where the windpipe is fully 

treated with especial reference to 
its function as the vocal organ. 

5 For the discussion of this 
point in detail, v. Part. iii. 6, and 
the treatise TT. Ai/am/oTjs, especi 
ally c. 7, 474, a, 7 sqq. c. 9 sq. 
c. 13, c. 15 sq. The veins branch 
out from the heart to the lungs 
and serve to carry the air from 
the latter to the former; Hut. 
An. i. 17, 496, a, 27; MEYER, p. 
431 (see supra and Ph. d. Gr. i. 
730, 4). Plato had already assumed 
that the heart was cooled by 
the lungs. 

Uetpir. 1, 470, b, 12, c, 10, 
475, b, 19 sqq. c. 12 ; Part. 
iii. 6, 669, a, 6, 24 sqq. It is 
interesting to observe how Ari 
stotle s imperfect acquaintance 
with the facts lead him to false 
conclusions. His observations 
had led him to see that there is a 
connection between respiration 
and animal heat ; but as he had 
no conception either of the oxi 
dation of the blood or of the 
nature of combustion generally, 
or of the circulation of the blood, 
he held that its heat was merely 
cooled and not nourished by re 
spiration. In Respir. c. 6, 473, as 
he expressly controverts the view 



less in need of cooling organs, are provided with gills 
in order to expel the water absorbed with their food 
after it has performed its cooling function. 1 Bloodless 
animals are without lungs, which, on account of their 
colder nature, they do not need. 2 The nutritive matter 
from which the blood is formed in the heart, 3 is 
prepared by the digestive organs, 4 which are separated 
from the nobler viscera in the case of all full-blooded 
animals by the midriff, in order that the seat of the 
sensitive soul may not be disturbed in its operations by 
the warm steam rising from the food. 5 The food is 

that the air which is inhaled 
serves for food to the internal 

1 Rvspir. 10,476, a, 1 sqq. 22, 
b, 5, c. 16 ; H. An. ii. 13, 504, b, 
28, and other passages ; see p. 
26, n. 9, supra. The earlier view 
that fish also breathe air, Ari 
stotle expressly controverts, Re- 
spir. c. 2, 3. A solution of the 
question was only possible (as 
MEYER remarks, p. 439) after 
the discovery of the conversion 
of gases. 

2 Part. iii. 6, 669, a, 1 ; Re- 
spir. c. 9 (see p. 7 sq. supra), c. 12, 
476, b, 30. Aristotle knows, in 
deed, of the respiratory organs 
of some bloodless animals, but 
he assigned to them another 

3 In Gen. et Corr. ii. 8, 335, a, 
9 sqq., De Sensu, 5, 445, a, 17, 
Aristotle remarks generally of 
plants as well as animals that 
this material is a mixture of all 
the elements ; see i. 482, n. 3, sup. 
That which properly furnishes 
nutrition is the sweet part, for 
this, being lighter, is boiled 

away by the heat, while that 
part which is bitter and heavy 
is left behind ; all else serves 
merely to season its sweet 
ness {De Sensu, 4, 442, a, 2 sqq., 
cf. Gen. An. iii. 1, 750, b, 25 ; 
Meteor, ii. 2, 355, b, 5 ; Part. iv. 
1, 676, a, 35). Fat is sweet 
(De Sensu, 4, 442, a, 17, 23; 
Long. V. 5, 467, a, 4) ; sweet 
blood is the more wholesome 
(Part. iv. 2, 677, a, 27), and fat 
is well-boiled, nutritious blood 
(Part. ii. 5, 651, a, 21). 

4 The teeth perform merely a 
preliminary function (Part. ii. 3, 
650, a, 8). On the mouth, as the 
organ for taking up the food 
into the system, which, however, 
serves several other purposes as 
well, see Part. ii. 10 init. (cf. p. 19, 
n. 1, swpra), c. 16, 659, b, 27 sqq., 
iii. 1 ; De Sensu, 5, 445, a, 23. 

5 Part. iii. 10, 672, b, 8-24 ; 
cf. Ph. d. Gr. \. p. 729. That the 
vegetable soul (the (f>&ns) is 
situated below the midriff, is said 
also Gen. An. ii. 7, 747, a, 20. Cf. 
p. 41, n. 3, supra. 


subjected to a preliminary process of preparation in the 
stomach, 1 and reduced to a fluid state, which admits of 
its entering the body. 2 It passes by evaporation into 
the veins that surround the stomach, and thence into 
the heart, where it is converted into pure blood. 3 
Leaving the heart, it is carried to the different parts of 
the body, according to their several necessities 4 The 
passage of the blood from the stomach into the veins is 
effected by the mesentery, the tendrils of which are as 
it were the roots or suckers by means of which animals 
absorb their food from the stomach, as plants do from 
the earth. 5 The fatty covering of the epiploon causes 
an increase of digestive warmth in the abdomen, 6 while 
the same function is performed for the blood by the 
liver and spleen, 7 which also serve as a kind of anchor 
by which the network of veins is secured. 8 On the 

1 The nature of which in the pass spontaneously into those 
different animals is described parts for which it is destined. 
Part. \\\. 14, 674, a, 21-675, a, 5 Part. iv. 4, 678, b, 6 sqq. 
30 ; H. An. ii. 17, 507, a, 24- ii. 3, 650, a, 14 sqq. According 
509, b, 23, iv. 1, 524, b, 3, c. 3, to these passages the stomach 
527, b. 22, &c. serves the same purpose for 

2 Cf. Part. ii. 2, 647, b, 26. animals, as the earth does for 

3 Part. ii. 3, 650, a, 3-32, plants ; it is the place where their 
De Somno, 3, 456, b, 2 sqq. food is kept and prepared for use. 

4 It is pointed out, Gen. An. 6 Part. iv. 3, 677, b, 14, where 
iv. 1, 766, a, 10, ii. 6 (see p. an attempt is made to explain 
19, n. 2, supra), Meteor. ii. 2, 355, the formation of the epiploon 
b, 9, that each part is formed and physically (e| avdyKris). 
nourished out of suitable mate- 7 Part. Hi. 7, 670, a, 20 sqq. 
rials, the nobler parts of better 8 Part. Hi. 7, 670, a, 8 sqq. 
materials, the lower out of infe- (cf. c. 9, 671, b, 9) where the 
rior ; but we are not told how same remark is made of the kid- 
this is effected. From passages neys and the intestines generally 
such as Gen. An. iv. 1, 766, b, 8, (similarly Democritus compared 
ii. 3, 737, a, 18, i. 19, 726, b, 9, the navel of the child in the 
cf . ii. 4, 740, b, 12 sqq., we gather mother to an anchor, see Part. i. 
merely that Aristotle supposes 807,6). It has already been shown 
the blood as the e(rxT7j rpo</>r? to (p. 20, n. 1, supra)i\\&t the spleen 


other hand, the gall is only useless matter which has 
been rejected by the blood. 1 The full-blooded animals, 
which on account of their warm nature need more fluid 
nourishment, are provided in their bladder and kidneys 
with special organs for rejecting the surplus matter 
which thus gains admittance into the body. 2 Corre 
sponding to the mouth, which receives food, and the 
gullet, which conducts it to the stomach, 3 all animals 
possess a conduit in their bowels for expelling the use 
less refuse of their nourishment. 4 But in the case of 
some animals a portion of the digestive function is per 
formed by the bowels. 5 The narrowness and windings 
of these passages serve to moderate the appetite, and 
therefore the most voracious animals are those which 
have wide and straight canals like fishes ; 6 but the real 
need of nourishment depends upon the amount ol 

is not equally a necessity to all ment of the fat of the kidneys, 

animals. Bloodless animals want 672, a, 1 sqq., from the point of 

this intestine as well as fat ; view both of physical necessity 

Part. iv. 5, (578, a, 25 sqq. ii. 5, and of natural design is especially 

651, a, 25. For further descrip- full and interesting, 
tion of the form of these organs a On the alimentary canal, 

in different animals, see Part. iii. which, however, is not found in 

12, 678, b, 20, 28, c. 4, 66(5. a, 28, all animals, see Part. iii. 14. 
c. 7, 670, b, 10. l)i . An. ii. 15, 4 Part. iii. 14, 674, a, 9 sqq. 

506, a, 13. 675, a, 30, 656, b, 5. 

1 See p. 20, n. ?-, supra. Since r > Jbifl. 675, b, 28. 

only sweet substances are nutri- G Ibid. 675, b, 22: oaa /nets ovv 

tious, the bitterness of gall eli/cu 8e? T&V C ( f (av ffoxppovtffrfpa 

shows that it is a irepiTrw^a, Trpbs T}]V r~?)s rpoipris iroiyo iv evpv- 

Part.iv. 2, 677, a, 24. It is accord- x^p 10 - 5 ^ v ^ K *X 6t ^yd\as Kara 

ingly not found in all animals ; ri]v KCITW Koi\iav, e Aj/cccs 5 3 e^ei 

ilrid. 676, b, 25, iii. 12, 673, TT\LOVS Kal OVK vdvfvrepd eariv. r) 

b, 24 ; H. An. ii. 15, 506, a, 20, 31. fjikv yap evpvxvpia Troie? trXi]Qovs 

2 Part. iii. 8, 9; II. An. ii. 16. iinQv^iav, r) 8 fvBvrrjs raxvrrjra 
Aristotle knew of exceptions to eVtfluyU/as &c. Ibid. 675, a, 18 ; 
the above rule and found means Gen. An. i. 4, 717, a, 23 sqq.; 
of explaining them. His treat- PLATO, Tim. 72, E sq. 



warmth or cold in the nature of the animal. 1 Support 
and protection are supplied to the softer parts by the 
framework of bones, or what corresponds to it in the 
lower animals. 2 All the bones of sanguineous animals 
start from the spine ; 3 and here it is certain that 
Aristotle has the credit of being the first to indicate one 
of their common properties. 4 The limbs are united to 
the spine by means of sinews and joints, which connect 
them all without impeding motion. 5 With reference 
to motion and the organs of motion in their mechanical 
aspect, Aristotle has recorded several just observa 
tions. 6 In other cases he not unfrequently supports 
remarks of questionable value by artificial and inde- 

1 Part . iv. 5, 682, a, 22 : rb all that moves requires a fulcrum 
jap 6ep[ Kal SeTrat TpoQijs Kal (c. 3) ; that two organic parts at 

_ r , _\., ki,., , ,.... -\ xx ] eas t a re necessary to produce 

motion, one to sustain the pres 
sure and one to exercise it (ibid. 
705, a, 19) ; that there is always 
an even number of feet (c. 8,708, 
a, 21 ; Hist. An. i. 5, 489, b, 22) ; 
that all forward motion in 
organic beings is produced by 
bending and stretching (c. 9, c. 
10, 709, b, 26 ; this chapter fur 
ther contains discussions on the 
flight of birds and insects, and 
the importance of the different 
organs of flight) ; that in order 
that he may stand upright man 
may not have more than two legs, 
and that the upper parts of his 
body must be lighter in propor 
tion to the lower than in the case 
of the lower animals (c. 11 init.). 
The same is true of many of the 
remarks in c. 12-19 on the bend 
ing of the joints and the means 
of locomotion both in men and in 
different animals. 

2 Part. ii. 8, 653, b, 33 sqq. ; 
see p. 39, n. 5, supra ibid. c. 
9, 654, b, 27 sqq. On the parts 
analogous to the bones, see p. 
26, n. 4, supra. 

3 Part. ii. 9, 654, b, 11 
Se T&V jj,v (j)\/3ct>v 

offTutv 7) Ka.XoviJ.svri 

^xovffLv offrd -rraffiv, a</> 

r) TWV aAAwi baT&v eart <pvais. 

4 Hist. An. iii. 7, 516, b, 22 
Traj/ra 5e TO. (ia ftcra. evai/ud 

3 For the full treatment of 
this subject see Part. ii. 9, 654, 
b, 16 sqq. On one or two remark 
able omissions in Aristotle s 
Osteology, e.g. of all mention of 
the pelvis and of the parallel 
between the legs of animals and 
human beings, see MEYER, p. 
441 sq. 

3 E. rf. in the treatise TT. 
iropeias tywv the statements : that 



monstrable assumptions. 1 Nor can we pretend that he- 
made the least advance towards a physiological explana 
tion of the circumstances which affect and accompany 
locomotion. 2 

One of the most important distinctions between 
animals and vegetables is the difference in their manner 
of reproduction. 3 While vegetables have no sex, the 
separation of the sexes begins with animals, their re 
union being only transiently effected for purposes of 
reproduction. Since animals are not intended for mere 

1 Thus, c. 4 sq. (cf . i. 497, n. 1, 
sup.), he endeavours, not without 
much subtilty, to establish the 
position that motion always pro 
ceeds from the right, although 
he obviously derives it, not from 
scientific observation, but from 
the dogmatic presupposition 
(c. 5, 706, b, 11) that the top is 
superior to the bottom, the front 
to the back, the right to the left, 
and that therefore the apxal 
must have their seat on the 
upper front and right side. 
Albeit he remarks himself that 
we may equally say that these 
are the superior situations be 
cause the apxal have their seat in 
them. On the latter point cf. 
ibid. 705, a, 29 sqq. ; De Ccdo,\\. 2, 
284, b, 26 : apxas ^ap rain-as 
\fy<a ddev apxovrai TTpwrov al Kiv-fi- 
(Tfis ro?s X OV(TIV - 0" Tt 5e a-rrb yuev 
rov avw 77 av^ffis, OTT^ 8e roav 
5eiaii/ T] Kara ro-jrov, OLTTO 5e rwv 
e,u7rpo(r0ei> 7] Kara rrjv ai<rQf]<nv. He 
goes on to add, c. 6 sq., an 
equally artificial proof of the 
statement (which is made also 
c. 1, 704, a, 11, c. 10 init. ; Hist. 
An. i. 5, 490, a, 25 sqq.) that 
sanguineous animals cannot 
move on more than four legs 

(Hist. An. he says plainly four). 
His account moreover, c. 12 sqq., 
of the walk of animals, as MEYER 
shows, 441 sq., is not free from 

2 We are told, indeed, that all 
motion proceeds from the heart, 
but it is not explained how this 
is possible (see p. 41, n. 6, supra). 
The explanation proposed, TT. 
Trvev/uLaros, c. 8 init., that the 
vital spirit streams through the 
sinews and is the moving force, is 
not Aristotelian. 

3 The work in which Aristotle 
has treated of this question, TT. 
(p<av yevftrecas, has received the 
warmest recognition even from 
scientific men of the present day. 
LEWES, who is not certainly in 
other respects inclined to place 
an exaggerated estimate upon 
Aristotle s scientific investigation, 
agrees with AUBEKT and WIM- 
MER (p. v. sq. of their edition) in 
expressing his admiration of this 
treatise, which handles some of 
the deepest problems of biology 
with a masterly grasp, astonish 
ing at so early a time, and is even 
less antiquated at the present day 
than Harvey s celebrated work 
(Artet. 413). 



life, but also for sensation, it follows that the exercise 
of their reproductive l functions must be confined to 
certain occasions. 2 Only the ostreaceous tribes and 
zoophytes 3 are sexless ; placed upon the boundary which 
separates the animal from the vegetable kingdom, thev 
are deprived of the functions which belong to both : 
they resemble plants in not propagating themselves bv 
copulation, and animals in not being generated from seeds 
or fruit. They are, in fact, reproduced by a process of 
spontaneous generation from slime. 4 And the like am 
biguity of nature is displayed in their case with regard 
to locomotion/ 5 

Passing to the comparison of the sexes, we may remark 
that the male and female are related to each other as 
form and matter. 6 The former is the active, the latter is 
the passive, part ; the one bestows the motive and plastic 
force, the other supplies the material to be moulded ; 7 

1 The Zpyov TOV &VTOS, the Theophrastus. 
tpyov Koivh TUV tAvrwv Tr<i V Tu V . * Separation of the sexes is 

- Gen. An. i. 23, from which expressly confined to the a 

quotation has already been made, iropevriKa. and as testaceous 

p. 29, supra. animals are described^ in the 

3 Besides a few others, to be passage just referred to as /uerafr 
mentioned hereafter, which must ovra. -ruv &W /ecu rwv fyvruv, and 
be regarded as exceptions. accordingly of neuter gender it 

4 Gen. An. i. 23, 731, b, 8, is said of them, Tnrir An 1<) 
c. 1, 715, a, 25, b, 16, ii. 1, 732, a, 71J, b, 13 : rci 5 <WpaKo e P/ ua 
13, iii. 11, 761, a, 13-32. Only Kiv^rai ^v, KLV^TOH 5e irapci </>tW 
such relatively simple organisms ou ydp eVri KivriTiKa, aAA us u.\v 
can be produced in this way, and ^uoV^a /cai Trpoo-TrecpvKOTa Kiv-n-nKa 
accordingly if it be true, as some ds 5e TropevriKa ^vi^a. Jt is 
hold, that men and quadrupeds previously said that they move as 
are sprung from the earth, they animals with feet would move if 
must have been evolved from their legs were cut off. 

worms or eggs which preceded See i. 353, supra 

them (Gen. An. iii. 11, 762, b, Gen. i. 2, 716, a, 4: T f /s 

28 sqq.). Aristotle, however, does yeveaecas apx&s Q.J/ TLS O-J-Y ^Kiara 

not himself share this view, eeijj -rb 6rj\ v Kal rb Upper r b uev 

although it is to be found in Uppev us rfjs Kivfirew; Ka \ rf s 



the one gives the soul, the other the body. 1 Aristotle 
maintains this opinion so firmly that he denies any 
participation on the part of the male seed in the 
material composition of the embryo, 2 declaring that it 
only communicates the necessary impulse to the sub 
stance derived from the female, 3 as is the case generally 
with form in its relation to matter, active to passive, 
propelling to propelled. In each of these cases the 
former does not enter into any material union with the 
latter principle, but only operates upon it. 4 Just for 
this reason, according to Aristotle, is the male distinct 

6r)\v us I/ ATJS. c. 20, 729, a r 9 : TO 
/ULfV appev Trape xercu TO re eTSos Kal 

T^V O.pX nV T7JS KlVffffWS, TO 8e 07jAl> 

TO rroSfj-a Kal T^V v\f]v. L. 29 : TO 
aopev t(TT\v ws KLVOVV, TO 8e 6rj\v, fj 
0r?Au, us Trader IKOV. Again, c. 21, 
729, b, 12, 730, a, 25, ii. 4, 738, b, 
20-3G, 740, b, 12-25, and _/;.9sfw< ; 
cf. also foil, notes. 

1 Gc-n. An. ii. 3 (see supra^. 0, 
n. 2) : TO TTJS 701/77 s <rw[. .a, eV & 
(Tvvairpx f Tai TO (nrc-p/u.a TO TT}S 
^VXIKVS PX^ S - Ibid. 737, a, 29 
(see p. 52, n. 2. infra) c. 4, 738, 
b, 25 : eo"Ti 8e TO juei/ crw/j-a e /c TOI> 
CyjAeos, TJ 5e tyvxy K TOI; appevos. 

- Gen. An. i. 21, 22 : the 
young is formed in the mother, 
in whom lies the material on 
which the plastic force of the 
father is exercised but into which 
the male seed does not enter as 
any part of the embryo, oto-Trep 


v\uv v\t]V OWT airepx^rat oiidev, 
ouTe fj.6piov ovdev fffTiv fv Tip yiyvo- 
/> rrjs TtKroviKris, ctAA 3 rj 
Kal TO elSos OTT eiteivov fy 
8ia rrjs Kivf}(Tcas eV TT? V\T), Kal 
cV y TO eTSoy, Kal 

KlVOVffl TO.S 

e x f P fS K( d TO. op-yava rv v\t]v. 

3 He compares the seed in 
this respect, Gen. An. i. 20, 729, 
a, 11, ii. 4, 739, b, 20, with the 
runnet which causes milk to 
curdle. Ibid. iv. 4, 772, a, 22, 
however, deprecates too exact an 
application of this comparison. 

4 Gen. An. i. 21, 729, b, 1: 
does the male seed contribute to 
the formation of the young us 

Kal jj.6piov oi/ (vtivs TOV 
(Tct>/j.aros, fjuyvvfjievov nj 
v\ri T?7 Trapa TOV /;Aeos, /} TO f.(ff 
(TU)/j.a ovdfv Kou wvet TOV (nrepij.aTos, 
TJ 5 eV avTCf) Svva/ Kal Kivrifns ; 
Aristotle decides for the second 
of these views ; for, on the one 
hand, ou (paivtTai yiyvo^fvov ev t /c 
TOU iradrjTiKov Kal TOV TTOIOVVTOS &s 
fWTrdpxovTos iv TO; yivOfJLfvy TOV 
TTOtovvTOS, ov5 J oAws 877 e /c TOU 
Kivovp.4vov Kal KIVOVVTOS, and, on 
the other, it is supported by 
several other facts which show 
that generation is possible with 
out material contact between the 
male seed and the female matter, 
as in the case of the subsequent 
fructification of wind-eggs. 


from the female, wherever ib is possible ; for if the 
form is superior to the matter, the more distinct they are, 
the better the result must be. 1 Accordingly, he is careful 
to distinguish between the procreative substance of the 
male, which is the seed, and that of the female, which he 
identifies with the catameriial discharge. He holds that 
they are both, generically, of the same sort and the 
same origin, being a secretion of nutritive matter, a 
product of the blood. 2 This fluid, however, is secreted 
in larger quantities and of a cruder sort with the 
weaker sex, forming the menses of women or what 
corresponds to them among other animals ; in men, 
however, it becomes seed. 3 Thus the same substance 

1 Gen. An. ii. 1, 732, a, 3: 
fie\TLOi*os Se Kai Qeiorfpas TT/I/ (pvtriv 
ovo~r]S r?is air i as TT)S Kiuov<rr]s 
irparr]S, y 6 Aoyos unctp^ei Kal TO 
elSos, TT/S U ATJS, &e\nov Kal TO 
Kex a} P >i ~Q ai T0 Kpelrrov rod ^ povos. 
8ic\ TOUT ev oo~ois evSf^rai Kal 

6-f)\eos TO appev. 

2 The detailed investigation 
of the subject is to be found 
in Gen. An. i. 17-20. Aristotle 
begins (721, b, 11 sqq. cf. c. 20, 
729,a, 6, 730, a, 11 ) by denying the 
opinion that the semen is a secre 
tion drawn from all parts of the 
body (on which cf . Z ELL. Ph.d. Gr. 

1. 805, 2, 720, 6, AUBERT-WlMMEB, 

p. 7 of their ed.). He then (724, 
a, 14 sqq.) shows that ffirepua 
must be one of two things, either 
an excrement from the organic 
parts of used-up matter (a 
triWT?7^a) or a surplus of nutri 
tive matter (a mpirrwfia), and in 
the latter case either a useless or 
a useful surplus. It cannot be a 
, nor can it be a useless 

Treplrrw/j-a it must therefore be 
a part of the useful Tre/jiTTw^o of 
the body. But the most useful 
nutritive substance is the rpoQ^ 
ecrxarrj or the blood ; the oW^im 
is therefore TTJS ai/uLariKrjs rrfpir- 
TWyua rpo<br)s, rr}s eis TCI ^ue pTj SiaSi- 
5o/ reXevraias (c. 19, 726, b, 
9). This is the reason why 
children resemble their parents : 
8fj.ot.oy yap TO TrpoffeAdbv trpbs TC\ 
fAfpr) r$ t>7roAet</>0eWt ware TO 
airfpjjLa earl TO rrjs %e/pbs -^ rd 
rov Trpoo-(i>Trov ^ o\ov rov q ov 
adioptGrcos x^P % TrpoGwirov f) o\ov 
<fov Kal olov Kfiv(av eKao~rov 
tvepyeia, roiovrov TO virepp.a Sy- (ibid. c. 13). On the pro 
perties and material composition 
of the semen, see Gen. An. ii. 2. 
3 Ibid. 726, b, 30 sqq. c. 20, 
729, a, 20. Aristotle, c. 19, 727, a, 
15 sqq. explains the weaker veins, 
the paler colour, the smaller 
quantity of hair, and the smaller 
bodies of women on the ground 
of defective supply of blood. 

E 2 


receives so different an application in the two cases, 
that where it takes the one form it cannot exhibit the 
other. 1 We see at once how well this theory of the 
two procreative substances fits into our philosopher s 
views about the generative process and the relation of the 
sexes. If the menses consist of the same material 
as the seed, except that it has not received in them 
the same development, we may compare them to im 
perfect seed. 2 So they contain potentially what the seed 
possesses actually ; they are the matter, while the seed 
communicates the impulse to development and form. 
Being a remnant of the essential nutriment, the menses 
and the seed continue even after their union in the 
embryo the motion which they previously maintained 
in the bodies of the procreative pair, and by the 
exercise of their native impulse to growth and nutrition 
produce something that resembles its parents. 3 If the 
being to be brought forth were merely vegetable, the 

1 C. 19,727, a, 25: Ivel 5e male. Of. c. 5, 741, a, 15. 

rovr ffrlv & yiyvtrai TO?S 94)\f<riV 3 Ibid. 737, a, 18 : rov 8e ffirep- 

us rj yov^j TO?S appfffiv, Suo 8 OVK paro? UVTOS Trpirrw/j.aros Kal KIV- 

V?>ex rai o~ir(piJ.aTiKas c^ua yiveffOai ou/xeVou Kivr]ffiv rrjv avrrjf /ca0 T}I/- 

aTTOKpio~ei.s, (pavepbv on rb 0f)A.v ov ?rep rb ffu/ma avdvTcu /j.epio[j.evr)s 

ffv/ y.XXfTai o"rr(p,u.a.(ls rrivytveaiv. rfis a"xi"rjs rpoty-i/s, orav f^Op ei s 

et /j.ev "yap (nrfp/Jia tfv, TO Kara/iTjvia rr]i> ixrrepav ffWiffTrjcri Kal Kive? rb 

oi>K &</ fa vvv 5e 5ta rb ravra irepiTTw/j.a rb TOV 6r]\fos rrjv avr-ffv 

yiyvetrdat e /ceti/o OVK fffTiv. It is K(VT}<nv Jivntp avrb rvyx* 1 KIVOV- 

shown also, c. 20, cf. ii. 4, 739, a, ptvov KO.K.HVO. Kal yap e /ceTvo Trepir- 

20, that there is nothing else that rcapa Kal iravra ra /j.6pia e^et 8u- 

can be taken for female semen. j/a^et, evepyeia 8 ovdev. Kal yap ra 

2 Gen. An. ii. 3, 737, a, 27 : roiavr e^ei fj.6pia 5vvd/u.i, -p 810- 
rb yap OrjAv oifnrep appev cVrl <f>fpei rb 07jA.u rov appevos. itia-rrep 
Trfirrjpci}/ui.evov, Kal ra Kara/j-^via yap Kal e /c Treirripw/ cav 6rt jj.ev 
mrepfjLa, ov Ka9apbv Se. fv yap yiverai irirfjpw/ ore 8 ov, ovr<a 
OVK fX l Pvov, T^/V rjjs ^/vx^js Kal e/c 6r-\fos ore (j.ev 6rj\v ore 8 
apx^f, as may be seen in the case ov, dAA appsv. rb yap 6-fj\v &c. 
of wind-eggs, which are produced (see preced. n.). Cf. i. 19, 726, 
without the co-operation of the b, 13 (see n. 2 on preceding page). 


female, he holds, would suffice for its development, since 
the nutritive forces of the soul are already active in her 
portion of the procreative substance. For the birth of 
an animal, on the other hand, male seed is indispen 
sable, since it alone contains the germ of sensitive life. 1 
The matter of the male having thus begun to operate 
actively upon the passive substance of the female, an 
effect is produced corresponding to the nature of both. 
Their proper nature grows and develops from the two 
elements, not because the materials are spatially at 
tracted to their like, but because each element when 
once set in motion moves in the direction for which it 
has a natural predisposition 2 because, in fact, the seed 

1 Gen. An. ii. 5, 741, a, 9: 
if the material for the birth is 
contained in the female Trepn-rojjua 
and the female portion of the same 
had the same soul as the male, 
why is it unproductive by itself ? 
atriov 8 6ri Statyepei Tb (pov rov 
(pvTOv aiaOfjCrfi . . . el ovv Tb 
appev effrl rb TTJS roiain-rjs Trou)TiKbv 
$VXT]S, OTTOU /cex^P T t T ^ 0*7 A u Kal 
T& appev, aSvvaTOv TO Qrj\v e 
avTOv yfvvav cpov. It is seen, 
however, in the case of wind- 
eggs that the female is to a 
certain extent capable of unaided 
production. These have a cer 
tain Swapis ^VXIK-T), although 
only of the lowest kind, viz. 
BpcTTTiKr), but as animals possess a 
sensitive soul as well, no animal 
can come from them. If there 
were animals of which no males 
are to be found, as perhaps is the 
case with the red sea mullet (al 
though this is still far from cer 
tain), in such cases the female 
would be self -begotten. On the 
other hand, where there is a 

separation of the sexes this is 
impossible ; otherwise the male 
would serve no purpose ; whereas 
in reality it is from the male 
that the sensitive soul comes at 
the beginning. 

^ IMd.ii. 4, 740, b, 12 : T? 8 
SiaKpiais yiyvtTai TCOJ/ [j.opiuv [in 
the process of evolution] ovx &s 

/cej/at <pepecr6ai rb 6/j.oiov irpbs rb 
6/j.oiov [a view which he pro 
ceeds to refute] , . . ctAA 6n rb 
TTpiTT(afj.a rb TOV flrjAeos Swd/J.i 
T0iovr6v tffTii* oiov <pvffi rb (fov, 
Ka\ Hv(TTi SwdfMfi TO, /j.6pia fvepyfict 
S ouflei/, 8ta ravTrjv TIJV alriav 
yiverai eKaffrov avTwv, Kal drt TO 
Kal Tb iradyT iitbv 

Tb fj.fv iroieT Tb 8e 

8 apx^]v T^S Kivf)ff(as Tb apptv. 
The operative force is here the 
nutritive soul, whose instruments 
are cold and heat. c. 5, 741, b, 
7 : the male portion is the 


contains the germ and potentiality of the soul. 1 The 
operative forces which nature uses in this process are 
heat and cold ; 2 but the character of the generative 
matter and of the germinal life which it contains, deter 
mines and regulates these forces. 3 Every germ brings 
forth a being similar to that from which it sprang, 
because the blood, the direct source of nutriment to the 
body, tends to form a body of a certain definite sort, 
and this tendency continues to operate in the seed. 
Hence it happens that the character of individuals as 
well as of races comes to be propagated in the act of 

primary source of the evolution, 
as it is this which contributes 
the sensitive soul, ci/virap 
5 eV Tfj v\r) Swdpei TUV 

rb e </>ef)s Kal & jSouAoj/rat 
rives TUV (pv(TiKwi>, rb (pepecrQai ets 
rb 6fj.oiov, XSKTCOV ovx &>s roirov 
jUeTaySaAAoyra TO. ^pi j. KwelaQai, 
dAAa {jLtvovra Kal aXXoiov^va 

/laAaKOTTJTl Kal (TK\1)p6Tt)Tl Kal 

Xpcf>/j.acri Kal rats aAAcus rals T&V 
6/J.OLO/j.epcav fiia f t>opcus, yivo^va evep- 

fpov, a view which had already 
been proved in detail in c. 1 
(from 733, b, 30, onwards). 

1 See on this, Gen. ii. 1, 733, 
b, 32, 735, a,- 4 sqq. c. 3, 736, b, 
8 sqq. and p. 6, n. 2, supra. 

2 In generation proper these 
spring from the (pvtris TOU yevv&v- 
ros ; in spontaneous generation, 
from the KIV^ITIS Kal dep^r^s TTJS 
&pas ; ibid. ii. 6, 743, a, 32. 

3 Ibid. c. 1, 734, b, 31 : 
fj.ev ovv Kal yUaAx/ca &c. 
Ka.1 v|/uxpoTTjs TTOiTjo eie^ Uv [ra 
bv Se \6yiv, M 

<rap rb S oarovv, OVKCTI, aAA f} 
Kivriffis fj aTrb TOU yevviiaavros TOV 
ei/reAe^eta ftvros 6 effri Si/ya^et rj 
[read rb] e| ou yiverai, as is 
further expounded, c. 4, 740, 
b, 25 (see last note of preceding 
page), c. 6, 743, a, 3 : r) Se yevecris 
fffTii> e /c T&V 6/j.oio/j.epuv virb tyv^ecas 
Kal dep/uLOT-rjros. After explaining 
how different materials are 
formed in both ways, he continues, 
1. 21 : auTTj 5e [heat] ot/re 6 TI 
eru^e TTOIC? ffdpKa 3) offrovv, ou0 
oirr) eru^ei/, ciAAa rb iT<pvKbs Kal -fj 
Tre<pvK Kal ore Tre ^u/cei/. oure yap 
rb 8uva/xet &// i7rb TOV /j.r] T^V ej/e p- 
yeia.v e^oi/ros KIVIJTIKOV ecrrai, cure 
rb rV evfpyeiav %xov Troi-fjffei etc 

TOV TVXOVTOS . . . T] 8e 0p/J.6Tr]S 

TdafjiaTi TO<ravTr\v Kal 

^xovffa T^)V K(vt]<nv Kal T^JV evepyciav, 

Offf\ <TV/J./JI.TpOS Ci s Ka<TTOV TUV 

{jiopi jiv . . . TI 5e ^u|is ffTpr)(ris 


e | avdyKrjs &O~T rb 
roSl rb Se roSi 7roie?v, eV 
roTs yivouevois eVe/ca TWOS ffv^^ai 


b Se 



generation. 1 If the male seed, which communicates the 
impulse of development, has sufficient vigour to mature 
the substance offered to it, the child follows its father s 
sex : if it lacks the necessary warmth, a being of colder 
nature, a woman, is born. For the ultimate distinction 
between the two sexes is one of greater or less vital 
heat : the warmer nature can mature the blood to 
perfect seed, the colder must content itself with supply 
ing the raw material of procreation in the catamenial 
discharge. 2 Woman is an unfinished man, left standing 
on a lower step in the scale of development. 3 The gen- 

veiv &c. ; for all this takes 
place (1. 16) rrj /j.ev e a.vdyKi)S rrj 
5 OVK e avdyKrjs dAA eW/ca TWOS. 

1 Seep. 51, n. 2, suj}. and p. 58, 
n. 3, inf. Gen. An. iv. 1, 766, b, 
7 : Tb fjCev <nrep/j.a inr6Kirai irep iT- 
rw/na TpotpTJs ~ov TO eir^aroj/. ecrxa- 
TOV Se Ae yw Tb Trpbs eKaffTov [i.e. 
each part of the body ; see p^ 45, 
n. 4, 8upra]<f>fp6fievov. 5tb Kal HOIKC 
fJLevov T(p yevv>i<TavTi. 

After refuting various views 
as to the origin of the difference 
of the sexes, Aristotle proceeds, 
Gen. An. iv. 1, 765, b, 8 : eVei Tb 
upper Kal Tb 6r)\v SiwpiffTai 5wdfj.ei 
TIV\ Kal aSvvajnia (T<) /*ev jap 

Svfd/J.fVOl> TTTTIV Kal ffVVHTI 6.VO.I 

TOV eftJous appev . . . T& Se 
vov /met? aSvvaTovv 8e ffvviff- 
Kal ^KKpivciv 0r}Au [similarly 
i. 20, 728. a, 18]) ert el iraffa 
, avdyKy Kal 
TO. appeva Tcav OrjXewv 
itvai. [The proof being 
that the former excrete the pre 
pared seed , the latter in menstrua 
tion the raw blood.] . . . a/j.a 8 

f) (pvfflS T-}]V T SlIVa/JLlV ttT 

Kal Tb i lpyavov 


yap OVTWS . . . TpiTOV Se irpos TOV- 

TOIS \flTTTOV OTl e tTTCp ?) (pOopa CIS 

TolvavTiov, Kal Tb /JL^ KpaTov/j.i>ov 
virb TOV STj/m-iovpyovvTOS avdyKT) 
lUerajSaAAeij/ eis TovvavTiov. Hence 
the true explanation : STOJ/ 70^ 
p)) KpaTfj 7} apxT] MT 
Tre if/cu St eVSerai/ dep/j.6TTf]TOS 
aydyy ets Tb ffiioi eTSos TI au 
aAAa TavTrj yTTrjQfj, avdyKT] 
TouvavTiov fjLCTafid\\iv. . . . 
8 e^et 8ia(popav eV TTJ Suj/ct^et, 
:al Tb opyavov Siafpfpov &O~T J 
TOIOVTOV /j.eTa&d\\ei. The same 
account is repeated clearly and 
precisely, 766, b, 8. Cf. c. 3, 767, 
b, 10. A number of facts are 
adduced, c. 2, in support of this 

3 See p. 52, n. 2, snpra; Gen. 
An. ii. 3, 737, a, 27 : rb yap 8y\v 
lixnrep appev effTl -TreTrr/poj^eVoi/. 
iv. 6, 775, a, 14 : ao-deveaTepa yap 
effTi Kal ^vxpoTepa TO. 07}Aea T)]V 
<pvffiv Kal Set inroXa/j./Bdveiv 

elvai T))V 

i. 20, 728, a, 17 : eoiKe 
Se Kal TT]V ,uop<V yvv^ Kal irats, 
:al effTiv i) yvv}] Sffirep appev 
ayovov. v. 3, 784, a, 4. Cf. 
Proll. x. 8. The statement, 



erative organs themselves are adapted to their functions ; 
we must not regard them as the causes but as the signs 
of sexual difference. 1 We should rather look for the 
ground of sex distinction in the vital principle itself and 
in the central organ and seat of life : for, though it is not 
complete until the sexual parts appear, yet its germs 
are laid in the formation of the heart at the very com 
mencement of foetal existence. 2 On this account sex 
plays a most various and important part in animal life, 
influencing to a greater or less extent the temper as well 
as the physical structure of animals, 3 while castration is 
followed by vast changes in the nature of men and 
brutes. 4 

Longit. V. 6, 467, a, 32, vavca- 
SfffTepov yap TOV 07^Aeos rb appev, 
the upper portions of his body 
being relatively greater, does not 
quite harmonise with this, for it 
is just the excessive size of those 
portions that constitutes the 
dwarfishness of children (Part. 
An. iv. 10, 686, b, 10 ; De Mem. 
2, 453, a, 31, b, G), with whom 
women are compared. 

1 See last note but one. 

2 Ibid. 766, a, 30 : ef olv TO 
p.fv appev o-px f] TLS Kc " cfinoir, ZO~TI 
5 appev ?; Svvarai TI, OrjAu Se rj 
aSvvaTe?, TTJS Se Svvdfjiews opos Kal 
TT}S dSui/ajUuxs TO TreirriKov eli/at 3) 
p.}] ireirTiKov TTJS vffrdrris T/JOC/>T}S, & 
iv /JLfv Tols fva.lp.ois al/j.a /caAe?rai 
ei/ 5e Toils CL\\OLS T^ avaXoyov, TOV- 
TOV Se T^ aiTiov ev TTJ ap^rj Kal T> 

TOV fojAeos Kal appevos Kal T] 
alria avrr] Kal eV rovTcp <TT IV. 
6rj\v S 7787? Kal appv fffrlv, orav 
Hxp Kal ra p.6pio. ols Siafyepei r6 
GfjAv TOV appevos. 

3 The chief passages on this 
head are //. An. iv. 11, where 
the peculiarities in the physical 
structure of each of the sexes in 
the various animal tribes, and 
ibid. ix. 1, where differences of 
character are discussed. 

4 A description of which is 
given, //. An. ix. 503. Gen. An. 
iv. 1, 76(5, a. 28, gives the reason : 
OTJ svia Tcajs /noptcav apx^-i elcriv. 

e Kti -rj6ei(rr]s TroAAa avdyKf] 

/j.opa) T& XOVTL TTJJ/ TTJS 
6ep/j.OTr)Tos apxr/v, avayKalov apa 
ev rols 4va.ip.ois (rvviffraffGai /capSiai/, 
Kal 3) appev e<re<r0cu it) 6r)\v TO 
yiv6p.tvov. tv 5e TO?S aAAois yeve- 
ffiv virapxtL TO 0yj\u Kal r6 appev 
TO rrj Kapdia avd\oyov. TJ ovv 

According to the passage just 
referred to, such an effect could 
not be expected to follow the 
excision of the testicles, but only 
of the heart : especially as Ari 
stotle, Gen. An. v. 7, 787, b, 26, 
without knowing their special 
functions, treats the former as a 
mere appendage to the seminal 
ducts. For the account of the 


Other phenomena besides the distinction of sex pro 
ceed from weakness in the procreative power. The 
movement communicated by the male seed tends to 
form a being similar to the -parent from whose body 
was derived the motive force. If, however, the seed is 
not vigorous enough to overcome the generative sub 
stance of the female, a woman is born ; or if it cannot 
succeed in imitating the paternal type, then the child 
resembles its mother and not its father ; again, should 
the seed fail in both of these attempts, which usually 
happens, a female child is born with a resemblance to 
its mother. 1 If the movement is itself deficient in force, 2 
the child lacks the personal characteristics which the 
movement ought to reproduce, and only receives, in 
descending degrees, the generic properties which the 
parent had possessed over and above those of his own 
individuality. Instead of the parental type, that of the 
family is transmitted, so that the child resembles his 
grandparents, or still more distant ancestors. So it 
may happen that nothing but the type of the race is 
communicated, so that the child, for instance, has a 
human form without any family characteristics. Lastly, 
it is possible that the offspring should turn out merely 
a living creature without even the human attributes, as 
in the case of children born with bestial forms. 3 If 
the proper relation between the male and female 

matter which he gives in accord- guishes, iMd. 768 S a, 14, 31, eav 

ance with the latter hypothesis, \vOucriv at Kivriaeis, from the other 

see Hid. 788, a, 3 sqq. case, eai/ /J.TJ Kpariari 7? Kivnais 

1 Gen. An. iv. 3, 767, b, 15 sqq., [rov &v$p6s], 

768, a, 2 sqq. 21 sqq. 3 IMd. iv. 3 ; cf. esp. 767, b, 

2 Aristotle expressly distin- 24, 768, b, 15, 769, b, 2 sqq. 



is altogether wanting, then no conception at all fol 
lows. 1 

Among the phenomena of life which are common to 
all animals we may next mention Sensation, the most 
important point of difference between animals and 
vegetables. 2 Sensation is a change produced in the 
percipient by the object perceived, 3 a movement com 
municated to the soul through the medium of the body. 4 

1 Ibid. c. 2, 767, a, 13 sqq. 
A number of other passages re 
lating to the distinction of the 
sexes and to procreation, we must 
be content briefly to indicate. 
The sexual parts of different ani 
mals are discussed Gen. An. i. 
2-16, ii. 6; Hist. An. iii. 1, cf. 

AUBERT-WlMMER, pp. 3 Sq. of 

their edition of De Gen. An. ; 
puberty, menstruation, and lac 
tation, Gen. iv. 8, ii. 4, 738, a, 9 
sqq. ; the causes of fruitfulness 
and unfruitfulness, Gen. ii. 7, 
746, a, 29-c. 8 Jin. ; TroXvTOKia, 
oXiyoTOKia and povoTOKia, certain 
kinds of abortion, the perfect 
and imperfect formation of child 
ren, superfcetation and the like, 
Gen. iv. 4-7 ; the formation of 
the bodies of animals and the 
order of the development of their 
parts, Hist. viii. 7 sq. ; Gen. ii. 1, 
734, a, 16-33, 735, a, 12 sq. c. 4, 
739, b, 20-740, b, 25, c. 5, 741, 
b, 15 sqq. c. 6 (743, b, 20 com 
pares nature to an artist, who 
first sketches the outline of his 
picture and then lays on the 
colours) ; the nourishment of the 
embryo through the navel, Gen. 
ii. 7, Hist. viii. 8 ; the production 
and development of birds, Gen. 
iii. 1 sq. 6 ; of fishes, iii. 3-5, 7 : 
of mollusca and testacea, ibid. 

iii. 8 ; of insects, especially bees 
(with regard to which Aristotle 
holds that the queens and female 
workers are born of queens, 
drones of working bees, and 
that there is no marriage among 
them), ibid. iii. 9, 10, Hist. v. 
19 (cf LEWES, Arist. 188 sqq.); 
spontaneous generation, ibid. iii. 
11, i. 23 Jin., Hist. v. 15 sq. c. 
19, 551, a sq. c. 11, 543, b, 17, vi. 
15, 569, a, 10 sqq.; the nature 
of the birth and the time of 
pregnancy, ibid. iv. 9. The dif 
ferences which separate the vari 
ous grades of animal creation in 
respect of their origin and method 
of propagation will call for fur 
ther discussion below, and the 
origin and gradual evolution of 
the soul will be the subject of 
the next chapter. 

2 See pp. 27 and 37, supra ; 
and with the following account 
cf. BAUMKER, Des Arist. Lekre 
von den Sinnesvcrmogen (Leip- 
sic, 1877). 

3 De An. ii. 5 init. 

4 Kivrjffis TIS Sia TOV au>/j.a.TOs 
TTJS tyvxvs. I)e Somno, 1, 454, a, 
9. How far we may speak of a 
movement of the soul at all is 
the subject of subsequent dis- 


The nature of this process may be explained and esti 
mated by the abstract laws of action and passivity. 1 It 
is the object of perception which sets the change in 
motion, the percipient which undergoes the change. The 
former is active, the latter passive. Hence the latter 
is related to the former in the same way as the actual 
to the possible or as form to matter. The perception for 
which a subject is fitted by its nature is developed into 
actuality by the object perceived ; the form of the object 
is impressed upon the percipient. 2 This relation, how 
ever, is further conditioned by the nature of the perci 
pient Like thought, perception can only legitimately 
be called a passive affection, if the phrase is taken to 
include the progress from mere capacity to actuality. 3 

b, 2: 

1 See the passages quoted vol. 
i. 454 sqq.,to which express allu 
sion is made De An. ii. 5, 417, a, 1. 

2 De An. ii. 5, 417, a, 9 to the 
end of the chapter, where the 
preceding discussion is summed 
up in the words : rb 8 alo-9-rjT IK^V 
8vvd(jii tarT\v oioy rb alffOrjT^v 
^ 817 eVreAexeia, /caflaTrep eiprjTca 

/uej/ ovv oi>x opoiov "bv, 

W,UOICOTCti Kal 0~TIV oloV 

e /ce?j/o, iii. 2, 425, b, 25 : ^ Se 
rov alffQrirov tvfpyeia Kal rrjs 
alcrO-fiffe&s TI avrr) /ueV etm Kal /ata, 
rb 8 eivai ov ToA rbv avratv \yca 
8 o tov $6<pos 6 /car ei/epyeiaj/ Kal 
a/cor? T\ /tar evepyeiav . . . orav 8 
evepyrj rb tivvd/J-cvov aKoveiv Kal 
v|/o<?7 rt) Swd/J-evov tyocpe iv, r6re rj 
/car 1 evepyeLav aKor) afj.a yiverai Kal 
6 /car Vpyeiav i|/o0os. And as ope 
rations and motions take effect 
upon passive subjects, this parti 
cular operation takes place upon 
the percipient. Of. infra, p. 60, 
n. 3, p. 61, n. 4 ; and see Part. An. 
ii. 1, 647, a, 5 sqq. 


De An. ii. 5, 417, 

Ti 8 airXovv ouSe 

T^) /J.v (f>6opd TIS inrb TOV 
evavriov, rb 8e crcar^pia yuaAAoz/ TOW 
5vvd/j.i OVTOS virb TOV eVreAexeta 
ijvros Kal o/jLoiov OVTWS ws 5vva/j.Ls 
Trpbs eVTeAexetaj/. Thus in the 
case of learning, we must either 
refrain altogether from saj r ing 
that the learner is the subject of 
an operation or we must distin 
guish between two kinds of 
rr)V re firl TO.S aTfpriTiKas 
a)8oA^i/ Kal T^V e-jrl TOLS 
e|eis ital TT]V 0tW (of. i. p. 197). 
Similarly with perception : so 
soon as the percipient comes into 
the world, exet^STjfiSo-Trep eTncrTTjjUT/j/ 
Kal rb aladdveffOat. Kal rb war eVep- 
yeiav 8e 6fJ.olws heyerai r$ Qcwpelv 
(as the latter is the actual appli 
cation of a faculty which is al 
ready possessed, so perception is 
the activity of a faculty which 
already exists in the percipient) ; 
8ta0e pet Se [sc. TO cuaQaveaQai rov 
flfa etV. OTL rov .fv ra 



Perception, therefore, may be equally described as an 
act, or more accurately as the joint act of percipient 
and perceived, 1 which act, however, has its seat in the 
former. 2 Further, the perceived object can be said to 
stand to the percipient in the relation of actuality to 
possibility only in so far as the one is capable of being 
perceived and the other of perceiving. It is not the 
matter of an object which acts upon the sense in ques 
tion, but only those properties of an object which the 
particular sense is designed to perceive. Hence it 
follows that it is the sensible form of objects without the 
matter that is received in the act of sensation. The 
material object itself is not communicated to the percipi 
ent, but only its operation. 3 This apprehension of the 

rys tvepyeias eco0ei , rb dparbv Kal 
rb aKovcrrtv &c. iii. 7, 431, a, 4 : 

8e rb p.ev alffB-rjrbv e/c 
ovros rov alffQf]riKov 

iroiovv [The perceived 
object makes that which is 
capable of perception and which 
is only a Svvd/j.ei &i/ into an 
fvepyeiq oV.] ov yap 7rao-%6t oiS 
a\\oiovrai. Sib #AAo eTSos TOUTO 
Kivfjcreus [something different 
from Kivt\ffis~\. T] yap /averts rov 

evepyeia ^v, rj airXais 

erepa r) rov rere\eo-(j.fvov 
(such also, however, is the otV- 
6T]riKbv according to ii. 5, 417, b, 
29 sqq.). 

1 I)e An. iii. 2, 426, a, 15 : 
eirel 5e /j.ia /net? iffnv T] evepyeia, y 
rov aladrjrov Kal r] rov alffdyriKov, 
rb S tlva.1 erfpov &c. Cf. foil. n. 
There is here no question of any 
reciprocal operation of the sensi 
ble object and the sensitive 
organ (PRANTL, Arist. v. d. 
Farben, 144, whom KAMPB criti 

cises, ErTi.-TJieoried. Arist, 80,4), 
for the object is not subject to 
any operation, but there is a joint 
operation, the result of which is 
perception. That this act gives 
a true account of the objects 
perceived, has already been said, 
in vol. i. pp. 208 sqq. 

2 De An. ii. 2, 456, a, 5 : et 
8"f) fffriv -rj Kivrja is Kal TJ iroirjo-ts 
Kal rb Trd9os fV T<j5 iroiou^eVoD, 
rov ^6$ov Kal r^v aKo^v 
/car evepyeiav eV rfj Kara 
flvai . . . f] fj.fv ovv rov 

, 7) 5e TOW aKovffrtKov a/cor; 
aKovo~is. Similarly with all the 
other senses : rj rov 
evepyeia Kal r\ rov alo~6r)r IKOV 

3 De An. ii. 12 init. : y fj.ev 
a i<Tdr)o~LS effri rb SfKriKbv ru>v 
alff6t]rS}v flSwv avev rr}s vA.r]s, 
oiov 6 Kf]pbs rov Sa/cruAiou avtv rov 
crift hpov Kal rov -^pvffov Se^erat rb 



form without the matter is only possible where there is 
in the soul a point of unity, a centre in which the sensible 
impressions can reflect themselves ; and on this account 
perception first appears in the animal kingdom. 1 More 
over, since the faculty of perception is the force and 
form of the physical organ, it presupposes a certain 
harmony in its component parts ; and if this harmony 
is disturbed by too vehement an impression on the 
sense, then the faculty of perception is lost. 2 The seat 
of this faculty is invariably a homogeneous body 3 which 
must contain potentially both of the opposite qualities 
that may be communicated to it by the objects of 
sense ; but just for this reason it must itself stand mid 
way between them. 4 The operation of the object upon 

$) %aA./cos, 6/j.oi(tiS Se Kal fj 
tKaffTov virb TOV UXOVTOS 
Xv/J.6v T) \l/6<pov 7ra<r%ei, aAA ovx p 
v e/mVcoj/ \eyerai, aAA 37 
al Kara TOV \6yov. (There 
is no trace, however, in this pas 
sage of what VOLKMANN, Grundz. 
d. Arist. Psyckol. \_Abhandl. d. 
bbhm. Gesellsch. x. 126 sq. Psycliol, 
i. 218] finds in it, viz. that 
sense is not affected by sounds 
&c. in so far as each of these is 
what it is, but in so far as the sense 
is what it is. ) Cf. foil. n. and 
De An. iii. 2, 425, b, 23 : TO yap 
alatiiiTripiov SCKTIK^V TOV alaOyTov 
avev rrjs v\r]s eKaffTov. Whence it 
follows that all perception is of a 
universal, a roiovSe ; gee i. 207, 
n. 1, supra. 

1 D6 An. ii. 12, 424, a 32 : 
plants have no aiffSycris, although 
they are not without souls; 
yap TO /j.r) exeiv ,uecroT7?Ta, 
TOiavTTjv apx,))!/ oiav ra eifSrj 

T?)y U ATJS. iii. 12, 
434, a, 29 : those ^cDi/ra are 
\vithout ato-dya-is, offa p.}] SCKTIKO. 
TUV elSwi aveu TTJS v\r]s. Cf. also 
supra, pp. 33 sqq. and notes, as 
well as the remarks infra, upon 
the sensus com munis, 

2 Do An. ii. 12, 424, a, 26: 
the alaGo.v6ij.Gvov is a body (^eye- 
6os~) ; ctftre-riaris, on the other hand, 
is not p.eyeOos, a\\a \6yos TIS Kal 
Svva/nts Kij/ov [TOV ai<rOavofj.ei/ov~\. 
<t>at/epbjs 5 e/c TQVTWV Kal SLO. T L 
7TOT6 T&V al(rOr]TW}/ al virep&o\al 
(pOeipovo~i TO. alaQt)T^]pia lav yap 
?T iffxvpoTtpa TOV alcrQrjTiipiov y 
Kiv-ncns, Ai/ ercu 6 \6yos, TOVTO 8 
f,v f) ato-Vya-is, &a"irep ical r) o-vfj.<puv a 
Kal 6 TOVOS Kpovojuevuv (rcfroSpa TUV 

. Cf. iii. 13, 435, b, 15. 

3 Part. An. ii. 1, 647, a, 2 sqq., 
where alffOvjT fjpia in this sense are 
distinguished from the opyaviKa 

(face, hands, &c.). 

Aristotle remarks this spe- 


the senses depends upon a medium which transmits it 
from the one to the other. Flesh is the medium of the 
sense of touch, air and water of the other senses ; l and 
to this medium the materials of which the organs of sense 
consist correspond. The connection, however, of the 
five senses with the four elements 2 is only tentatively 
adopted by Aristotle. 3 The higher tribes of animals 

cialiy of touch, De An. ii. 11, 
423, b, 29 sqq. This sense, he 
says, perceives the opposite 
qualities of bodies ; rti Se alcrQ-i)- 

StWyuet Toiovr6v eari popLov. Since 
perception is a Tra^eii/ by which 
the Swa/jiti ~bv is made by the 
operative principle into some 
thing like that which itself is 
fvepyeiq (cf . supra, p. 59, n. 2), 816 

TOV 6jJ.r>i(t}S [SO. MS r6 0V0?7T19pJOI/ | 

Qepfj.ov KOI \]/vxpov 2) (TKA-rjpou Kal 
/*a\aKov OVK alffOavo/neda, aAAa T&V 
tf7rep/3oAcT i/, cos TTJS aiV075<rews dlov 
yu.ecrdTTjTtta TWOS oijcrris rfjs eV TO?S 
aia&riTo iS tvavTitaffsbis. Kal Sta 
TOUTO Kpivei TO. alffOrjTa. rd yap 
pe<rov KpiriK6v: just as the eye in 
order that it may be able to 
perceive black and white must 
be neither of these actually but 
both potentially, so it is with the 
sense of touch. 

1 Ibid. ii. 7, 410, a, 7-35. 
According to this passage, the 
medium of the perceptions of 
sight is light, of hearing air, of 
smell moisture : irepl Se atyfjs Kal 
yfvcrfcas e% jjikv 6/j.oices ov ^aiVerat 
Se. Their medium (see supra, 
p. 39, n. 4) is flesh. For further 
details, see infra, and in i. 518, 
n. 3, supra 

- Aristotle remarks himself 
(Part, An. ii. 1, 647, a, 12 ; DC 
Fensv, c. 2, 437, a, 19 sqq.) that 
several of his predecessors at 

tempted to establish this con 
nection, but be does not say to 
whom he refers. The citations 
on the views of Empedocles and 
Democritus (ZELLEH, Ph. d. 
Gr. i. 723, 817, 3) and from 
Plato (ibid. ii. a, 727, 3) on 
this head are not sufficient to 
explain the statement (in the 
above passage De Sensu) that one 
of the four elements was assigned 
to each of the senses, but that 
this only raised the difficulty of 
the discrepancy in their respec 
tive numbers. 

3 See the two passages, De An. 
iii. 1 and De 8ensn, 2, 438, b, 
16 sqq. In the former of these 
Aristotle desires to show that 
there cannot be more than the 
live senses (the opposite had 
been asserted by Democritus : see 
ZELL. Ph. d.Gr.i.Sn, 5), which he 
proves in this way : the properties 
of things are perceived either im 
mediately or by means of a 
medium. The former is the case 
with the perception of touch 
(only in the sense, however, that 
the medium is in the percipient 
itself: see n. 1, supra, and of. 
De An. ii. 11, 423, b, 12). In 
the latter case the sensitive 
organ for each class of percep 
tions must consist of an elemen 
tary material of the same kind 
as that through the medium of 
which the perceptions reach the 



possess all the five senses ; the lower are without one 
or other. It is only the sense of touch, and its de- 

senses. Properly speaking, how 
ever, we have only water and air 
to deal with, as fire operates as 
vital heat in all the senses, and 
earth peculiarly (i5/ws) either in 
none or in touch (of which 
taste, according to Aristotle, is a 
subordinate variety : see p. 22, n. 
1, supra). Even flesh, however, 
the organ of the latter sense, 
does not consist merely of earth, 
but of a mixture of earth and 
water and air. Although it is, 
therefore, the most material of 
all the organs of sense, it yet 
stands in the middle between 
the different kinds of tangible 
things, and is sensitive to them 
all. (De An. ii. 11, 423, a, 11 
sqq. iii, 13, 435, a, 11-b, 2; 
Part. An. ii. 1, 647, a, 19, c. 8, 
653, b, 29.) The pupil of the 
eye is of water ; sounds are per 
ceived by air in the passages of 
the ear ; the sense of smell 
resides in both air and water. 
The perception of universal pro 
perties of things, however, such 
as form, size, motion, &c., cannot 
be confined to the organs of any 
particular sense, being in its 
nature common to all (cf. infra, 
pp.66 sqq.). In the second of the 
above passages it is said : #oV 
efirep TOVTUV TI (Tu/xjScuVej, KaGdirep 
ktyofifv, (pavephv ws 8e? TOITOV TOV 
Tpoirov (ZTroSiSoVaj ital npotTa.iTTeiv 
TWV alaOrjrrip wv evl T&V 
v. TOV fjitv v/j./maTos TO 
opaTiKov vSaTos VTTO\^TTTOV, afpos 
Se TO T&V ty6<t>a>v alo-Qt]TiKbv, irvpbs 
5e T)]V uo~<ppr)o~iv. o jap evfpyfia r\ 
crnfprjcm TOVTO dvvd/uiti TO bafypav- 
TIKQV . . . 77 8 00707 KairvcaS^s T LS 
avaOv/j-iaffis, 77 5 avaQv/ui.iao~is 

rjs t ? /c irvpos ... 70 
aiTTLKbv jris. ^ T<$ 8e yevvTiictv elSts 
TL a(f)7js ea-riv. It is impossible 
(as ALEX, in loco, p. 80 sq. 
pointed out) to suppose that 
Aristotle here intends to assign 
the organs of the various senses 
to the four elements respectively. 
He here .repeats what he says in 
the De An. of the organ of smell 
when he remarks that it is merely 
Suvd/ what oaQpria-is is evepyeta, 
8vvd/j.i yap 9fp/j.r) 7? TOV ^v^pov v\f) 
fffT\v, and that, like the eye, it is 
closely connected with the brain, 
the coldest and dampest part of 
the body ; but smell itself is 
assigned to fire, because it is 
produced by the heating of the 
cold olfactory organ by the 007x77 
KaTrj/ciiS-ris, which is of a fiery 
nature. (So also c. 5, 444, a, 
8-22, where Aristotle explains 
on this ground the ;esthetic 
pleasure in smells peculiar to 
man ; see last note on next page.) 
But according to Bekker s text, 
the words ((>ai/epbv o>se? &c. would 
give the meaning just referred 
to as inadmissible. It is all the 
more welcome to find that, as 
BAUMKEE, p. 47 sq. reminds us, 
four of the seven MSS. in DC 
Senm, 43K, b, 17, give el before 
Sel, so that we may read : <pa.v(pvv 
us et SeT . . . rcav GTOI^ I.WV, TOV 
iiej/ oiittaro? \-c. In this view, 
Aristotle offers the explanation 
that follows only hypothetically, 
and from a point of view differ 
ent from his own. This view of 
the passage corresponds precisely 
with that of ALEX, ibid., who 
seems, therefore, also to have 
read ef before 5cT; cf. p . 78: 


pendent sense of taste, which is quite indispensable. 1 
Of touch Aristotle says that it is as impossible for an 
animal to be without it as for any other creature but an 
animal to possess it. It is, in fact, the most universally 
important sign of life; and therefore any excessive 
impression made upon this sense would not, as in the 
case of the others, destroy a single organ alone, but the 
life itself of the animal. 2 These two senses are thus the 
commonest and lowest ; they serve the baser needs of 
life : 3 while sight and hearing, as the means of rational 
development, occupy the highest rank. Hearing, how 
ever, deserves the preference, since we owe to this sense 
the possibility of oral instruction. 4 Of all living 
creatures man is furnished with the subtlest taste and 
subtlest feeling ; many animals exhibit the other senses 
in a greater state of acuteness, 5 but in the case of man 
they play a special part in his spiritual culture. 6 

ei o0Tw, <pT]a\v, eVl rr t s tyews e^ei other hand, are so ov TOV eli/oi 

Kal Sia Toirro, Kada eyA/xoz/ro Tiz/es, eVe/ca, ctAAa rou eu. DC; Ail. iii. 

eVcao-TOJ/ a.laQif]ri]piov endo-Tcp ruv 13, 435, b, 19 ; cf. C. 12, 434, b, 

(TTOi^fiwv aj/aTiOercu c. ; p. 80 : 22 sqq. 

ov yap 5?7 bpeffKovra aury \eyei * Do Sensti, 1, 436, b. 12 to 

&c. ; cf. also Part. An. ii. 1, end of chap. ; Mctapli. ibid. 
617, a, 12. * tie An. ii. 9, 421, a, 9-2G ; 

1 On this point cf. the not De 8ensu, 4, 440, b, 30 sqq. ; 

wholly consistent statements, Part. An. ii. 16 sq., 660, a, 11, 

Hist. An. iv. 8 ; De An. ii. 3, 415, 20 ; Gen. An. ii. 2, 781, b, 17. 
a, 3 sqq. iii. 12, 434, b, 11-29, c. 6 I)e An. ibid. : man s higher 

13, 435, b, 17 sqq. ; De Sensu, intelligence is explained on the 

1, 436, b, 12 sqq. ; De Somno, 2, ground of his finer feeling; 

455, a, 5 ; Metaph. i. 1, 980, b, but it is certain that Aristotle 

23 ; MEYEE, Arist. Thierk. 432 regarded the human eye and 

sq , and p. 22, n. 1, supra. ear as also of higher signiti- 

- De An. iii. 12, 13, 434, b, cance for the development 

22, 435, b, 4-19. of the spiritual life than those 

3 Feeling is indispensable to of the lower animals ; Etli. iii. 

every animal for the preservation 13, 1118, a, 16 sqq., he remarks 

of life, the other senses, on the of smell, hearing, and sight, 


Coming to the particular senses, Aristotle observes 
that the seat of sight is in the pupil of the eye. 
Formed of water, this organ is affected by colours which 
are communicated to it through a transparent medium. 1 
Sounds acting on our ears through the medium of air 
are transmitted to the sense by the air in the auditory 
passages. 2 Smells are conveyed to the olfactory organ 
by air and water : they are inhaled with the air by 
respiring animals ; to non-respiring animals water is 
the medium of smell. 3 The primary qualities of matter 
which belong to all bodies and their particular modifica- 

De Scnsu, 5, 443, b, 15-444, a, 9, 
ibid. I. 28 sqq., of smell, that 
man alone takes delight in these 
sensations for their own sake and 
not merely for the sake of food 
(albeit smell is his lowest sense : 
De Sensu, 4, 440, b, 31 ; De An. 
ii. 9, 421, a, 9) ; of the senses 
generally Aristotle says, ffen. A it. 
ibid. : T\\V IAZV ovv ir6pp<aQv O.KPL- 
T&V aiffdriffecav ^KKTTO. us 

, TT/V 8e Trept TO.S Siacpopas 
irdvrcav ei>cu<r07]Toi , his 
organs of sense being the purest, 
and the least earthy and material, 
and his skin being the finest. 
MEYER, ibid. 435 sq., brings 
together his statements with 
regard to the sensitive organs of 
the various animals. 

1 See p. 64, supra ; De Sen&ii, 
2, 438, a, 12 sqq. b, 5 ; Hut. An. 
i. 8, 491, b, 20; Part. An. ii. 8, 
653, b, 25, c. 10, 686, a, 37 sq.; 
Gtn. An. ii. 6, 744, a, 5, and 
elsewhere ; cf. BAUMKEE, 48 sq., 
and i. 518, n. 3, supra. That the 
eyes also operate upon the 
objects (and that not merely by 


reflecting the light) is proved, 
De Insomn. 2, 459, b, 23 sqq., by 
a fictitious experience. 

- Part. An. ii. 10, 656, b, 
13 sqq. ; De An. ii. 8, 420, a, 
2 sqq.; cf. p. 478; BAUMKEE, 
52. It is not quite clear how 
Aristotle conceives of the con 
nection of this air with the 
central organ of sense; he merely 
remarks, Part. An. ibid., that 
the ears are united with the 
occiput (which, according to his 
opinion, i. 262, n. 1, mpra, is 
empty) b}* means of passages. 

3 De An. ii. 9, 421, b, 8 
sqq. iii. 1 (see p. 6, supra) ; De 
Sensu, 5, 442, b, 27 sq. 444, a, 
8 sqq. ; cf. p. 537, 3, 539, 6, 478, 
med. ; BAUMKEE, 53 sq. It has 
been already remarked, p. 62, n. 3, 
sujyra,ika,t the sense of smell also 
is connected with the brain, but 
there is nothing said about any 
connection between it and the 
heart. Aristotle shows, De Sensu, 
5, 455, a, 4 sqq., that smell 
occupies a middle position be 
tween the alaO^a-fis airriKal and 

5i &\\OV a(V07}T.KCU. 



tions are the proper objects of the sense of touch. 1 The 
organ of touch is the heart : the medium through which 
impressions are transmitted to the heart is the flesh ; 2 
and the same may be said of taste, which is nothing 
but a species of touch, 3 the only difference being that 
the tongue is its sole conductor. 4 How the sensations 
communicated by particular senses can have their seat 
in the head, 5 while the seat of the sensitive life itself is 
in the heart, 6 and all sensation belongs to one and 
the same part of the soul, 7 Aristotle fails to ex- 

1 De An. ii. 11, 423, b, 26: 
airral fj.(V ovv elaiv at Siatyopal rov 
ffw/j.aros f) (Taj/no \~yu) 5e ras 
SioL<popks at ra trroix^a 5iopiovffi t 
Oep/ tyvxpbv, i]pbv vyp6v. Be 
sides these fundamental qualities 
the sense of touch perceives also 
hardness and softness and others, 
and Aristotle asks accordingly, 
422, b, 19, whether it is only one 
sense or several. He rejects the 
latter supposition, however, 1. 27 
sqq., with the remark that the 
other senses also perceive more 
than one fvavrtorrfs : by hearing, 
for example, besides height and 
depth we perceive loudness of 
sound, softness and roughness 
in the voice, &c. Therefore BEEN- 
TANO S assertion (Psyclwl. d. 
Ar. 85) that it is erroneous 

5 BAUMKER, 78 sqq., shows as 
against SCHELL (Die EinJieit des 
tieelenl. nach Ar. 163 sqq.) from 
De An. ii. 1, 412, b, 18, 413, a, 2, 
ii. 11, 423, b, 17 sqq. iii. 2, 426, 
b, 8; Part. An. ii. 1, 647, a, 2 
sqq. c. 8, 653, b, 24 sqq., and 
other passages, that Aristotle 
assumes this to be the case in 
respect to the above three senses. 
Cf. De Svnsu, c. 2 (p. 62, n. 3, 

6 Vide p. 41 sq. The view that 
the brain is the seat of sensation 
(ALCM^EON, see ZELL. Ph.d.Gr. i. 
456, 1 ; PLATO, Tim. 67, B, 76, D), 
is expressly refuted by Aristotle : 
Part. An. ii, 10, 656, a, 15 sqq. 
b, 11, c. 7, 652, b, 2 ; De Juvent. 
3, 469, a, 20. He holds himself 
that the brain is devoid of feel- 

according to Aristotle to regard ing, resting his view upon sup- 
feeling as only a single sensitive 
faculty, is not accurate. 

2 See p. 39, n. 4, p. 62 n. 3, sup. , 
De An. ii. 11, 422, b, 20, 35 sqq. 
423, b, 1 sqq, 22 ; Part. An. ii. 10, 
656, b, 35; De Vita, 3, 469, a, 
5-20 ; BAUMKER, 54 sqq. 

3 See p. 22, n. 1, supra, and on 
the sources of taste, i. 518 sq. 

* De An. ii. 11, 423, a, 17 sqq. 
c. 10, 422, a, 34, 

posed experiences, upon which 
see MEYER, Arist. Thierk. 431. 

7 DeAn. iii. 1, 425, a, 31, and 
more fully De Sensu, 7, 449, a, 5 
sqq., where inter alia : avdyK-t] 
&pa tv TI e?j/cu rrjs if/vx^s, <p a.ira.VTa 
a Vflaj eTcu, . . &A.A0 Se 761/05 St 
&AA.OU. Just as one and the same 
thing has different properties, so 
OfTtov Kal eVl TT}S if/vx^s fb avrb 
Kal tv tlvai apid/my rb 



plain. 1 If his view is that the pictorial image is gene 
rated in the organs of sense, while its reference to the 
object takes place in the heart, 2 the question still 
remains, how can sensation originate in organs in 
which the sensitive soul does not reside ? 

eIW.i eVepoj/ Kal 
T&V /J.fv yevei rwv 8e e /Set. 
wcrre Kal aiffOdvoiT &j/ a,ua T< avTifi 
Kal evl, \6yci) 5 ou TC auraS. DC 
Somno, 2, 455, a, 20: eo-rt ^tv yap 
fj.(a atffQricris Kal TO Kvpiov aiffOr)- 
TT]piov ey TO 8 eivai atV07jeret rov 
yevovs fKaffTov Tepov (its charac 
ter is different in each kind of 

1 Neither from Part. An. iii. 
4, 666, a, 16, ii. 10, 656, b, 3 ; 
cf. Hist. An-, i. 4, 489, a, 23 ; DC 
Somno, 2, 455, b, 6, nor from the 
passage in c. 3 of the TT. cwirviwv, 
which seems to give the greatest 
support to this view, are \ve 
justified in saying with certainty 
that Aristotle regards the blood 
as the conductor by which the 
sensitive movements are led to 
the heart. He certainly assumes 
that a portion of the blood flows 
at intervals back to the heart, 
carrying its own natural motions 
with it (ibid. 461, b, 11). From 
this, however, he merely concludes 
(as will be shown, p. 71, n. 3, infra} 
that the movements caused by 
previous perceptions and latent in 
the organs of sense, being no 
longer overpowered by move 
ments in the blood, are liberated 
and carried in like manner to 
the heart ; it appears, therefore, 
that he regards them as different 
from those in the blood. 

2 This is the view put forward 
in the passage just referred to in 
the treatise upon Dreams, where 

461, a, 30 goes on to say: 
l*.v yap e/ce?0ej/ [sc. OTTO TWV 

irpbs T^i/ apxhv Kal eyprjyopoos So/cet 
opav Kal aKoveiv Kal alffOaveaQai, 
Kal 8ia TO TT}i> ottyiv eVi ore KivtlaQaL 

SoKtlV OV KLVOVp.VflV 6p5.V d>CCU6J/, Kal 

TCf TT]v a(p7]t/ Svo Kivtiffeis flaay- 
ye\\eii> rb ei/ Svo 5o/ce?i/. The 
words refer, as the repetition of 
SoKeti/ shows, to the cases of self- 
deception discussed c. 2, 460, b, 
3 sqq. 11, 20, 22 sqq. c. 3, 461, b, 
30. These Aristotle explains on 
the ground that the judgment 
upon the object and the pictorial 
image are due to the exercise of 
different faculties (ibid. 460, b, 
16 : afaiov Se TOV ffv^aiv^iv ravra 
TO /j.^i /caret TTJV avTi]v SvvaiJ.iv 
Kp ivtiv TO T Kvpiov [subj.] Kal $ 
TO. (pavTaa /aaTa 7/i/eTcu). 6 Acos yap 
[as c. 3, 461, b, proceeds] TO d^> 
eKao-Ti]s alo-O-tiaews (pr)(Tiv r) apxr), 
av p.7] erepa KvpiwTepa avTicpi). 
<f)a.ivTai yuej/ ovv TrdvTws, So/ceT 
5 o : j irdvTws TO <paivo/j.vov [the 
sun, for example, appears to us 
to be a foot broad, nevertheless 
we- refuse to believe it; c. 2, 460, 
b, 18], dAA eaj/ [but only when] 
TO t-niKplvov K3.TexT]Tai. r) ^ KivrJTai 
T}]V otKfiav K. .vT\aiv. It is this 
Kvpiov Kal 67Ti/<:prj/oi (461,b, 24 sq.) 
which refers the sense-perception 
to its object. It, for instance, when 
sensation presents us with the 
image of a particular man, iden 
tifies it with the man in question. 
In sleep, on the other hand, when 

i 2 



The separate senses, however, are insufficient of 
themselves to explain the fact of sense-perception. The 
universal qualities of things such as time, motion and 
rest, unity and multiplicity, size and form are not, like 
sound and colour, the peculiar objects of special senses ; l 
they are perceived by all the senses, and only indirectly 
by each. The faculty, therefore, by which they are 
perceived must be distinct from all the particular 
senses: it must be a sensus communis or common sense." 2 
This sense, moreover, enables us to compare and dis 
tinguish the perceptions of different senses. 3 When, 

consciousness is imprisoned, the 
image is taken for the object 
itself. The seat of this faculty 
cannot be other than a single 
Kvpiov al<rOriTT]piov (De Somno, 2, 
455, a, 21), of which sleeo and 
waking are particular states (see 
p. 75, infra). 

1 DC An. ii. 7, Aristotle dis 
tinguishes between a0 aura [not 
merelv Kara (ru^t,8ej37jKbs] cuVflTjra 
between ftua and KOIVO., remarking 
418, a, 11 : A6 7 co 8 rSioj/ ^v & (^ 
cVSe xercu erepa alffQi]<r^i alaQdveaOzL 
. . . K nva. 8e /aV>)<m, -hpe/Aia, apiQ- 
fj.(js, <rx^/", /AfjeOos. Similarly, iii. 
1, 425, a, 13: oAAa pfyv oi5e rwv 
KQIV&V oTw T elvai alar0riT-f)pi< >v ri 
ftuoy, u>v Ka 
aia-8ai>6/j.eea. Kar 
STRIK S proposal to read ov K. <r. 
is rightly rejected by J3RBNTANO, 
Psychol. d. Ar. 98], olov Kti/^o-ecos, 
(7Tct<rews, (rx^aTOS, fjieyfOovs, apid- 
juou, evos. I)e Mem. 450, a, 1). 
On time see p. 73, n. 4, infra. 

z We are informed of motion 
&c through the separate senses 
Kara (Tt^/SejSrjKbs (De An. iii. 1; v. 
preceding note). These qualities 
are accompaniments of particular 

sense-perceptions, and the multi 
plicity of the senses even assists 
us in distinguishing them from 
the latter (OTTCOS rirrov Xav&avri ra 
aKO\ov6ovvTa Kal Koiva, ibid. 425, 
b. 5). Were we therefore con 
fined for our perception of them 
to the particular senses, we should 
know them only as accessory (e.g. 
it: we saw a white object, which 
moved, we should perceive only 
its colour and not its motion). 
rcov 8e KOIVUV ^7817 exo,uej/ atffQrifftv 
Koivrjv ov Kara <rv/j./Be/3r]K6s OVK ap 
Icfriv t Si a (ibid. 425, a, 24sqq.). Do 
Mem. ibid, says that size and 
motion are known to us by the 
same faculty as time, /co) rb 
(pdvTair/jia [sc. avrrjs] rr/s Koivris 
aLffdrjfffcas 7ro9os eVrti/. Cf. i.435, 
n. 2, supra. 

3 De An. iii. 2, 426, b, 8: 
each sense perceives ras rov 
viroKeifjievov alffOyTOv Siatyopas, e.g. 
sight, those of colour. eVei 8e Kal 
rb \VKbf Kal rb y\vKv Kal fKaarrov 
rSiv alffOrjTtov irpbs e/cafrroj/ Kpivo- 
juej/, rivi ai(T0av6/j.Oa OTI Siatyepfi ; 
avd-yKi] 8?; alardrjcTfi- altrdrjra yap 
otfre 8^ Ke-xw/Jzo-^ueVots 
Kptveiv OTI tTtpov rb 


further, we declare the phenomena presented to us by 
the senses at one time to be objectively real, at another 
to be unreal, it cannot be our senses themselves that 
pronounce this judgment, for their presentations are in 
both cases alike ; nor if we are deceived in our judgment, 
are the senses to blame for the mistake, seeing that 
they always report correctly. 1 The common principle of 
all sense-perception is alone responsible for the reference 
of the perception to the object, and therefore for the 
mistakes that are made. 2 The same principle, finally, is 
the basis of self-consciousness which accompanies all 
sense-perception : since perception is different from the 
thing perceived, the senses which supply us with the 
picture of the object cannot also inform us of its ob 
jective reality. 3 The organ of the common sense is the 

TOV \evKov, aAAa Se? ej/t nvi faculty can know the distinction 

SfjAa elvai. It must there- between whiteness and sweet- 

fore be one and the same faculty ness. De Somno, 2, 455, a, 1 7 : 

by which we distinguish different /cat Kpivei 8/7 Kal Svvarai Kpiveiv on 

kinds of sensations from one erepa TO. y\vKta rwv XtvK&v, oure 

another : and to this, in order ycvffei ovre fyei OVT a/j.Qo tv, a\\d 

that these may be compared with nvi Koivi? popitp TU>V 

one another, these must be airavTow. effn fjifv yap /j.ia 

simultaneously present, meeting- c. (see p. G6, n. 7, supra). 

in it as two lines meet in a com- Cf . i. 209, n. 3, supra. 

mon point. (The details of this - Seep. 67, n. 2,suj)ra, where 

theory, which suggests many cliffi- this is shown to have been 

culties, cannot be here discussed ; Aristotle s view. 

besides TRENDELENBUBGW&Z0C0, 3 DC An. iii. 2 init.: eVel S 

see the discussion of it in KAMPE, ala"9av6/ne6a on bpw^v Kal d/couo- 

Erkenntti.lssth. d. Ar. 107; BEEN- /*ep, avdvicn % rrj oi^et aiaQaveaQai 

TANO, Psycliol. d. Ar. 90 sqq. ; tin 6pa, $ erf pa [sc. alffd^ffei]. The 

BAUMKER, vO sqq.). Similarly former, however, is inadmissible, 

c. 7, 431, a, 20 : T IVI 8 eiriKpivei if for no other reason, because 

Ti Siafyepei y\vKv Ka\ 0p/j.6v ... in that case we must assign 

yap ev n OVTOD Se Kal TJ colour to the seeing subject [the 

6\us 6 opos [the bound- opwv irpwrov), as to all visible 

ary] &c. Just as one sense knows things. De Somno. 2, 455, a, 15 : 

the distinction between -white eo-rt 8e ns Kal Koivh 8vva/ 

and black, so one and the same aKo\ovdov<ra iraffais, 7 /cat on 6pa 



heart, 1 in which, as we have already seen, the general 
principle of the sensitive life resides. 2 

To this single faculty of perception, or c common 
sense, Aristotle proceeds to attribute a number of 
important mental phenomena. 3 It is the source of 
imagination and memory, 4 which are therefore shared 
by many brutes as well as by man. Imagination is 
a movement produced by sensation, an after-effect of 
the sense-perception 5 in other words a spent sensa- 

Kal aKovei alffOdverai [so BONTTZ, 
Arist. Stud. iii. 72, reads accord 
ing to the text of two MSS. ; 
BEKK. has Kal cuV0.] ov yap 8/7 TT) 
ye o^et opa %TI opa . . . a\\d TLVI 



1 The heart is the ev Kotv bv 
aiVfl JjTTjpiOj , els o TO.S KO.T* evepyeiav 
al<rd-f]0~eis avayKcuov aTravrav (De 
Juvent. 1, 467, b, 28); TO ye Kvpiov 
T&V alffd^ffewv ev ravrr) TO?S evai- 
/jiois iracriv. ev rovry yap ava.yKa.1ov 
elvai TO iravTdW T<av alcrOTjTripicav 
Koivbv alffO-riT-fipiov (ibid. c. 3, 469, 
a, 10). 

- Cf. supra, p. 42 sq. and p. 
66, n. 6, and on the question how 
the sensations of the three senses 
which have their seat in the head 
are transmitted to the heart, p. 67, 
n. 1 . But the heart is also the seat 
of the sense of touch (see p. 67, n. 
1, supra} ; and to this the remark, 
DC Somno, 2, 455, a, 22, seems to 
refer, where it is said that the 
?5(oi/ and the koivbv of aftrflrjcns 
[for this we must suppose to be 
the meaning of TOVTO, 1. 22, placing 
with BONITZ the words ov yap . . . 
XpupaTos, 1. 17-22, in a paren 
thesis] a/uLa T$ aTTTiKy fj.d\ 
virdpx*i, this being the only one 
of the senses whose organ is 

also the central organ of sensa 

3 For the following account 
see FEEUDENTHAL, Ueber d. 
Bf griff d. Wortes (pavraffia b. 
Arist. 1863. 

4 De An. iii. 3, 428, a, 9, 21, 
c. 10, 433, a, 11, c. ; Hut. 
An, i. 1, 488, b, 25 ; De Mem. 1, 
449, a, 28, 450, a, 15, c. 2, 453, a, 
6 ; MetapJi. i. 1, 980, a, 27, b, 25 ; 
cf. p. 71, n. 3, p. 73, n. 4, Infra. 
Some animals, therefore, dream 
as well as man, Divin. p. S. 2, 
463, b, 12. 

5 After showing, De An. iii. 
3, that it is neither df<r07j<m, nor 
vovs, nor eVio-Tirj^rj, nor 5o |a, nor 
a combination of 5 J|a and afcrflrjo-i?, 
Aristotle proceeds, 428, b, 10 : 
aAA 7ret5)) eo"Tt KwrjOtj/ros rovftl 
KivelffQai erepov virb TOVTOV, TJ 5e 
(pavracria KW7]als TLS SoweT elvai Kal 
OVK avev alaOJ-ffews yiyveffQai aAA 
al(r8avo/jLfvois Kal )V atffQriffis effrlv, 
eo~Ti Se yiveadai Kivtiffiv VTTO TTJS 
evtpyeias TTJS al a Or) (Tews, Kal ravrrjv 

vTT) r] 

o"0 iroielv Kal 

Kal aA7j07j Kal ^ev 
ovv p.ridev p.ev a\\o 

elvai rfj aia6r)o~ei, elrj 
is ovre avev alffO^fffas 
re /j.}) ai<r6avo/j.evois 
iroAAa KCT avrr]v Kal 
i/, /cat eJvai 
L. 30 : t 



tion. 1 The motion caused by the external impression 
upon the sensitive organ not only produces an immediate 
effect in the sensation which follows, but continues in 
the organ, 2 whence under certain circumstances it 
passes to the central organ, and in this way repro 
duces the pictorial image, 3 even in the absence of the ob- 

[so the majority of the former case by the rapid 

the MSS, ; TORSTR. with E reads growth, in the latter by the 

$) % (pavr., but considers the words rapid decay, of the body. The 

spurious ; BEKK. and TREND, are latter passage would of itself be 

certainly wrong in reading T) pr) sufficient to prove that in Ari- 

(pavra<riav^ TOVTO 5 ccrrl [ToRSTR. stotle s view the persistence of 

conj. e^ei] TO Aex^ei/, j] <pavra(r:a the sense-impressions, which are 

kv eit] KiVrjcns UTTO rrjs aiffdr) crews compared to the impress of a 

TTJS /car evepyeiav yiyvo^vr). De stamp, is not that of actual 

Insomn. 1, 459, a, 17 (a passage material copies of the objects 

which establishes the true read- (even in his account of sense- 

ing in DeAn. 429, a, 2 as yiyvoiievt], perception itself, p. 58 sq. supra, 

not ->]$). Aristotle gives no countenance 

1 Rliet. i. 11, 1370, a, 28 : rj to such a view), nor even that of 
Se (pavraffia. e<rr\v ai<rQi}cris TIS qualitative changes in the organs 
acrdevfis. themselves, but is due to the 

2 De Mem. 1, 350, a, 27 : the continuance in the organs of the 
irdQos, where e ts is yui/Tj^uyj, con- motions caused by the original 
sists of a kind of <oypd<prifjLa, sensation. This, however, be- 
which attrd-riais produces in the comes still more obvious from 
soul (i.e. the tyvx^ alcrd-nriK^) and the quotations that follow in the 
in the part of the body where ib next note. On the whole sub- 
resides ; y yap yivo^vn Kivrja-is ject see FREUDENTHAL, p. 20 


otov TVTTOV TWO. rov 

alcrd r)iLi.aTos KaQdirep o! <T(ppayt6/j.evoi 3 This is the sense of the 

TO?S 8aKTv\iois. On this account, passage in IT. evvirv. c. 3, already 

under deep emotion or in the referred to. After showing in, 

early years of childhood, memory the beginning of c. 2, 6n KO.\ 

is weak, the excitement being a.-rr\()6vTos rov QvpaOev alcrOrjrov 

too strong, Ka.6a.Trep &i/ els 05a>p efjL.uevei TO. alcrd-fi/j-ara alaQr]ra ovra, 

peov /j.irnrTov(rr)s TTJS /ctj/^o-ecos Kai that the faculty which gives 

TAJS atypaylSos ; conversely in old judgment upon the corresponding 

age Sia TO ^xta-Qai fwear] /cat Sia objects is different from that 

ffK\f]p6Tf]Ta TOV 8exofj.evov TO ird6os which supplies the sense with 

OVK eyy.verai 6 TVTTOS. The same the images of them (cf. p. 67, n. 

phenomenon is explained, c. 2, 2), and that in this way we get 

453, b, 4, as the result, not only the delirious fancies of fever 

in the case of children but of and other illusions of sense into 

old men, of a /ctV^o-ts caused in which we are seduced by passion 



ject. 1 To this power of reproducing images of sense Ari 
stotle gives the name of Phantasy ; and to the images 
themselves the cognate name of phantasms. 2 Phantasy, 

and emotion, Aristotle proceeds 
in c. 3 : the motions caused 
partly by impressions made upon 
us from without, partly by those 
produced from within the body 
itself, are repressed during the 
day by the activity of sense and 
thought, and rendered imper 
ceptible [a(paviovTai tirrirep irapa 
TroAu irvp eAarToi/ as the light of 
the stars before the sun] ; 
5e 5t apy tav T&V Kara 

. . . irl T 
[the heart] Kara^epoi/rat Kal yi- 
VOVTO.I (pavepal KadLffTa/m.fvrjs TTJS 
Tapaxvs- The same thing takes 
place in sleep (461, a, 18 sqq.) : TO. 
(pavTacr/iiaTa Kal al viroXoii 

[those lingering remnants of the 
motions produced by impressions 
upon the senses which are the 
cause of phantasms ; cf. p. 70, n. 5, 
SUprci\ &T fj.\v VTTO /j.eioi>os ova"rjs 
Trjs etprj^eVrjs Ktvi](Tcas afyavi&VTai 
ird/j.irav, ore Se TeTapay/^fvai <pai- 
vovrai . . . KaQitTTauitvov 5e Kal 
StaKpivo/jLfvov TOV a"fJ.aTOs eV TO?S 
ei/at^uois, (rw^b^eVrj TWV 
t] Kivrjcris ac/) e/cacrrou TWV 
T-ripioiv [the motion caused by the 
sense-impression which is trans 
mitted from the organs of sense 
to the heart] eppw/ Te iroiei TO. 
fvv-jrvia, Kal [so. TroteT] QaiveaOai TL 
Kal 8o/ceTi/ 5m /u.i> TO. airb TTJS o^ecos 
KaTa(pep6[ opav, Sia 5e TO, dirb 
TTJS aKorls aKoviv. ofj-OtOTpoTrcas 5e 
Kal a7rb T&V &\\<av aiaOriTypicav. 
For the apx^ accepts as true 
what the senses report, so long as 
it remains uncontradicted by a 
more authoritative report (cf. p. 

67, n. 2, supra); 6rav yap 
[as isexplained,461, b, 10], KUTLOV- 
TOS TOV TrAefcTTOi; tirl T))V 
apx^v ffvyK.a.TepxovTa.1 at evovo~ai 
Kij/rjo-eis. These exist, however, 
partly 8vi>d/ partly eVep-yeioc, the 
former appearing ( eirnro\d.eiv ) 
when the others by which they 
have hitherto been repressed dis 
appear ; Kal \v6fJifvai eV o\[y<p T 
AonrqiJ a i/bLan rcf eV TO?S al(T0r)Tr)piois 
Kivovvrai [in the blood which is 
left behind in 1 he organs of sense 
after the main body of it has 
flowed back to the heart, the 
sensitive motions contained in it, 
which have hitherto lain latent, 
become liberated owing to the 
exhaustion, by the diminution of 
the quantity of blood, of those 
motions which have hitherto 
restrained them], x V(Tai fyoi6- 
rrjra wtrirep ra eV rots ve<p<Ttv, a 
iraptiKa^ovariv avOp&nois Kal Kfvrav- 
pois Tax^us ^ueTajSaAAovTa. So 
long as we keep hold even of a 
remnant of. consciousness in 
sleep we do not mistake those 
images for the things; if on the 
other hand we have lost all 
consciousness that we are asleep, 
we take the one for the other. 
Dreams (ra <paiv6/jLeva e5f5a?Aa 
KaOcvSovTt, 462, a, 11) are there 
fore only the remnants of the 
motions caused by sensation 
(461, b, 21), as which they are 
often clearly recognised at the 
moment of waking. 

1 Hence he says, Zte An. iii. 
8, 432, a, 9 : ra yap 

u Arjs. 

2 For proof of this see BONITZ, 



moreover, he holds to be the source of the images which 
accompany thought. 1 To these it is impossible to apply 
the above sensational explanation : 2 they must be con 
sidered as in some way independent products of intellec 
tual activity. Aristotle, however, has given us no account 
of their origin or their relation to the images of sense. 
While the reports of the single senses in their own depart 
ments are unerringly true, the imagination and the gene 
ral reports of the common sense .are exposed to illusion. 3 
If an imagination relates to earlier perceptions and pre 
sents a copy of them, then we call it memory (fjLVjjfjbrj) ; 4 

Jnd. Arist. 811, b, 11 sqq. 812, a, 

1 See next chapter. 

2 Aristotle actually distin 
guishes between two kinds of 
(pavra<r-a. De An. iii. 10, 433, b, 
28 : opfKTiKbv 8e [so. TO Qfov iffrlv] 
OVK avev (pavTacrias. (pavrarria Se 

7} \oyL<TTiK^] r) al<r07jTiKr]. 
/J.ev ovv Kal ra #AAa <pa 
c. 11, 434, a, 5: T) /u.ej/ 
al(r9-r]TLK^ (pavraffia . . . ical 


/SouAeimKr) eV TO"IS \oyiffr i/co??. 
As alo-OrjTiK)) <bzvT. can only here 
mean the power of reproducing 
from the motions that linger in 
the organs of sense the images 
represented by them, the <$>O.VT. 
jSouAeuriKT? (or Ao7iO"Ttcr) : rb yap 
jSouAeveo-flcu Kal XoyifecrQcu ravrov, 
Eth. vi. 2, 1139, a, 12) must 
mean the power of projecting 
images of things in the future, 
of means and ends whose com 
parative value it is the function 
of jSouAeucns to estimate with a 
view to the exercise of choice. 
Such images, however, are not, 
like those of memory, given in 

the excitations of the organs of 

3 See i. 209, n. 3, and ii. 67, 
n. 2, supra. 

4 De Mem. i : all memory refers 
to the past and therefore presup 
poses the intuition of time, 449, b, 
28 : ftcra xP& vov oilffOdverai, Tavra 
liova. -T&V <f<av /j.vri/JLOi evei, Kal Tovrcp 
S> alaOdverai. (See i. 436, n. 2, ii. 
70, n. 4, and 71, n. 3, supra. ) The 
faculty upon which memory de 
pends is phantasy, for it always 
refers primarily to sensory 
images, and in a derivative and 
secondary sense to thoughts in 
so far as thought itself is impos 
sible without a pictorial image, 
as is shown (450, a, 15) by the 
fact that brutes have memory as 
well as man. Cf. 450, a, 13: 
(iitrre TOV voov/j.evov [I/OOUI/TOS or 
vov 1 ] /cara (rv/j.^e^Kos &v efy, 
Kad" 1 avr6 5e TOV Trpwriv alaOrjTiKOv. 
450, a, 22 : rivos f*.fv ovv TU>V T?IS 

e<rrlv f) /j.v^/.i.i], tyavepby, OTL 
Kal r] (fiavraffta Kal CO~TI 
/j.vr]/j,ovVTa Kad" 1 avra fj.ev orra earl 
(ptavTatrra, Kara (TVju.fieBr)Kbs Se oo~a 
jj(,}] avev (pavracrias. The ^av 



and the conscious reproduction of a memory is recollec 
tion (avdfjLvrja-is). Man alone is capable of recollection, 
since he alone can reflect ; * but memory, as we have 
said, is shared by brutes. Recollection depends upon 
the natural coherence of the movements which produce 
the imaginative pictures ; by virtue of this coherence 
one image is called up by another formerly connected 
with it. 2 These movements have their seat in the 

however, only becomes a recol 
lection (/j.vTHJ.6vev/j.a) when we 
recognise in it the copy of an 
actual perception, when we con 
nect with it the thought that it 
is the repetition of a previous 
perception a point upon which 
we are not always certain. Ac 
cordingly we sometimes fail to re 
cognise actual memories as such, 
and at other times mistake mere 
fancies for memories (450, b, 18 
sqq.). Tl iJ.ev otiv eVrl /Liv-fiM [the 
chap, concludes] Kal TO mvi]^.o- 
Vfvtiv, efyjTjrat, art (pavTaff /AUTOS, 
us eiK6vos ov <f)dvTao-/jLa, e|ts (which 
should be taken, not, with 
FREUDENTHAL, ibid. 36 and 
elsewhere, in its narrow sense dis 
cussed i. 285, n. 3, supra, but in the 
simple sense of having or keeping; 
cf . c. i. 449, b, 25) Kal TLVOS fj-opiov 
T&V ev T)ijCiv, 6ri TOV Trptarov alff67]ri- 
KOV Kal y XP OVOV alffOavo/neOa. 

1 Hist. An. i. 1 fin. ; De Mem. 
ii. 451, b, 2, 453, a, 6 sqq. As 
the reason of this, it is said, in 
453, a, 9 : on TO ava/ju/jii/ f}o~Keo~()ai 
effTiv olov o~v\\oyia/u.6s ns on yap 
TTp6r*pov $ 6?5ev 3) ^Kovfftv ij n. 
TOIOVTOV HiraOe, o~v\\oyi^Tai 6 
ava/j.L/j.j/r]o~K6/ui.vos, Kal ecrnv olov 
ns. TOVTO 5 ofs Kal TO yap TO fiov\evso~6ai. 

o~v\\oyio-jjL6s TLS fffTiv. Jf. An. ibid. 
also connects /3oiM.etW0aiwith ava- 
fj.ifj.vf)o-Kfo-Oai as peculiar to man. 

2 Perhaps Aristotle gives 
this explanation, ibid. 451, a, H) 
sqq., with a tacit reference to 
the mnemonics mentioned by him 
in other passages (De An. iii. 3, 
427, b, 19 ; De Insomn. 1. 458, b, 
20; Top. viii. 14, 1(53, b, 28). 
Kecollection, he says, takes 
place, eVeiS); iretyvKev }] Kivr)(Tis 
7^5e 76j/0"0at jweTa Trji/Se ; if the 
connection is a necessary one, 
the rirst is invariably recalled by 
the second ; if it is merely 
habitual, only as a rule. Some 
times, however, a single occur 
rence creates a fixed habit. 
AvafMi/uLvf)o Kffdai both in the case 
of intentional and unintentional 
recollection consists in recalling 
former motions in their order 
until we arrive at the object of 
search. We start in this process 
OLTTO TOU vvv [i.e. from a present 
intuition] T) aAAou TWOS, Kal a(p 
6/uLoiov 3) ei-avTiov y) TOU avveyyvs. 
Aristotle has not further deve 
loped these hints upon the so- 
called laws of the association of 
ideas, nor has he explained 
whether of the two principles of 
avd/j.vr)(Tis, avdyKf] and %6os, the 
former embraces only those cases 



heart. 1 Lastly, from sensation and imagination arise 
the feelings of pleasure and pain, 3 and the appetites, 
whereof we shall have to treat in detail when we come 
to Anthropology. 3 

Aristotle regarded Sleep and Waking as conditions 
of the common faculty of perception. 4 Sleep is the 
imprisonment of that faculty, waking is its free activity. 5 

in which the physical movement 

that underlies the pictorial image 

spontaneously produces other yap KUT ivepyeiav TO TTJS 

such movements or includes also 

those in which the content of a 

given presentation conducts 

necessarily to the recollection of 

certain others. On the other 

hand, Aristotle gives us the 

irpbs TO ayaQbv Kal wa/cbj/, 77 TOI- 
aCro. Phys. vii. 3, 247, a, 24 : /} 

Sici /j.vfifj.rjv $) OTTO Trjs eATn Sos. 
ft /j.ev ovv /CCIT fvfpyfiav, 
TO afaiov, el 8e Sia 
e ATn Sa, OTTO TCUTTJS ^ yap oia 
tTro.Qofj.ev (jL^.vi]^.4vois TO TTJS T/Soi^s 
T) oia. ireio o yuefla e\iriov<riv. We 

general law which determines shall return to pleasure in deal- 

the succession of those associa- ing with the Ethics, but neither 

tions which depend upon habit, here nor there do we find an 

viz. that each presentation is accurate psychological account 

recalled by that which imme- of the feeling. 

diately preceded it on its former 
occurrence : r$ yap efler cwoAou- 
Oovffiv at Kivi]ffis ctAArjAats, 
a T7Ji/5e (451, b, 28, cf. 1. 22). 

3 Cf. meantime De An. ii. 2, 
413, b, 23, c. 3, 414, b, 1-16, iii. 
7, 431, a, 8 sqq. iii. 11; De, i. 454, b, 29 ; Part. An. 

IMd. 453, a, 14 sqq., where ii. 17, 661, a, 6. 

it is stated, cm o-<JyiaTi/coV n TO 
irddos, Kal r] avd/j.vr](ns 
(f)avTd(Tfj.aros . 

4 IUd. c. 2, 455, a, 5-b, 13 : 
eV sleep and waking do not belong 
ava- to the senses individually, but 

/j.ifj.vrjo-K6/j.vos (rcD/j.aTiK6v TI Kivei fv to the Kvpiov T&v a\\tov trdvTuv 
$ T& TrdOos ; what This is is not, alo dqT-fipiov, the TrpaTov $ aladd- 
in deed, further explained. Since, veTai irdvTuv. 
however, the seat of memory in De Somno, i. e.g. 454, a, 32 : 

general is the heart, it must be ei TO IVVV TO eyprjyopevai. &pio-Tai 
this which is meant. 

2 Do An. ii. 2, 413, b, 23: 
OTTOU yU6i/ yap aar#Tj<m, Kal AUTTTJ Te 
Kal riSovTi, OTTOV Se TauTa, e| aj dyKtjS 
Kal eiri8v/u ! a. iii. 3, 414, b, 4 : 

T6 Kal XVTTT] KO.I TO fl$V T Kttl 

Xvirif]p6v. (Similarly De Somno, 
1, 454, b, 29.) c. 7, 431, a, 10 : 
Ko*Tt TO ^Secrflcu Kal \virf7(r6ai TO 



f Ka6evSfiv tvavTiov 
TOVTO 8 eo~Tlv aSvvafJLia Si 
O\TJV TOV fyprjyopevai . . . 
avdyKrj TTO.V TO eypyyopus ej/8e- 
Ka9evofiv aovvaTov yap aei 
V. It is impossible, how 
ever, that it should sleep for ever, 
for to sleep without awaking 
would be to lose the power of 
sensation. 454, b, 25 : TTJS 8 


Hence these conditions are only exhibited by beings 
capable of sensation : but with them they are invariable, 
for the faculty of perception cannot remain active 
without experiencing exhaustion from time to time. 1 
The object of sleep is to maintain life, to refresh and 
restore ; and this again subserves the higher purpose of 
waking activity. 2 The natural causes of sleep lie in 
the nutritive process. The vital warmth drives the 
fumes away from the food upwards ; collecting there, 
they make the head heavy and induce sleepiness ; but 
cooling in the brain, they sink down again and cause a 
refrigeration of the heart, in consequence of which the 
activity of this chief organ of sensation is suspended. 
This condition lasts until the food is digested and the 
purer blood, destined for the upper portions of the 
body, is secreted from the denser sort, which passes 
downwards. 3 Dreams arise from the internal motions 
of the organs of sense, which continue after the trans 
mission of external impressions has ceased. In the 
waking state these motions disappear beneath the action 
of sense and thought; but in sleep, on the contrary, 
and especially towards the end of sleep, when the dis 
turbance of the blood has ceased, they stand forth more 
clearly. 4 Hence it may happen that an internal motion 

al(rO-fi<T<as rpoirov riva r^jv /te/ above, we must suppose that 

a.Kivt)<riav Kal olov Seff/muv virvov these sleep also. 
elvai (pa/j.v, r^v Se \vaiv Kal r^v 2 Ibid. ii. 455, b, 16-28, c. 3, 

aveaiv eyp-fiyopviv. end. 

1 See preceding note and DC 3 De Somno, c. 3, where this 

Somno, 1, 454, b, 14-455, a, 3, point is very fully discussed, 
where it is said that all animals 4 As is shown and interestingly 

except ostracea are actually illustrated by careful observations 

observed to sleep, and thaf, on from cognate fields, IT. swirviuv 

the general grounds mentioned (see p. 71, n. 3, supra}, cf. Divin, 


in the body, which would not be perceived in waking 
hours, makes itself felt in dreams, or that dreams, 
reversely, impel people to subsequent action by the 
images which they present to the soul. It is also 
possible that sensible impressions reach us in sleep 
which would not have struck upon our senses in the 
more disturbed atmosphere of the daytime, or would 
have failed to arouse our attention. Thus some pro 
phetic dreams may be explained naturally; anything 
beyond this must be considered a casual coincidence, 
for we notice that many dreams do not come true at 
all. 1 

Death, like sleep, must be explained by an altera 
tion in the central organ. It happens when the vital 
warmth, which resides in the heart (or the correspond- 

p. >S. 1, -1(53, a, 7 sqq. Dreams opinion which, he thinks, may 
according to the account here have given rise to the belief in 
given (c. 3, 462, a, 8, 29) are the existence of the Gods. If at 
Kiv^fffis (pavra(TrLKal [movements the time of the composition of 
caused by fancy] eV rots cuVflrj- this dialogue he attributed any 
TTjpiots, ... TO (pavraa/j-a TO cnro TTJS real value to this opinion,it would 
Kiv^a-ews rwv ala0^juLdrcau, orav eV be only one of the many proofs 
TO> KaQfvSeiv 77, 77 KafleuSei, TOUT of the influence which the views 
ecTTtf evvirviov. of Plato still exercised over him. 
1 This is essentially the doc- His whole treatment of the sub- 
trine set forth in the treatise TT. ject as given above shows how 
TTJS KO.& virvov jUcti/TZKTjs. It cannot, far he was at a later time from 
on the other hand, be regarded regarding eleep as a higher con- 
as the expression of Aristotle s dition of the spiritual life. The 
scientific conviction when in one views that Cic. Divin. i. 38, 81 
of his Dialogues (see i. 390, n. 3, attributes to Aristotle on the 
Kupra) he speaks of the soul in power of prophetic foresight 
sleep and just before death, when ( aliquid in anirnis pracsagiens 
about to withdraw from the body atque divinum ) said to be pos- 
into its true being, as possessed of sessed by hypochondriacs were 
a power of insight into the future, much more probably taken from 
Such a view, it is much more one of the Dialogues, than from 
probable, does not at all express Divin. p. S. c. 2 init. or Eth. End. 
his own conviction, but merely an vii. 14, 1248, a, 39. 


ing member), is extinguished. 1 The cause of this 
extinction, which affects all fire alike, is generally the 
want of nourishment. This may be brought about in 
two ways : either the operation of antagonistic mate 
rials 2 may prevent the fire from maturing its aliment, 
which in the case of life is the vapour rising from the 
blood ; or else an excess of warmth may induce too 
rapid consumption of it. 3 The latter takes place in the 
natural decay of old age. During a length of time the 
respiratory organs have been growing gradually harder 
and drier, moving themselves in consequence more 
slowly, and becoming incapable of providing the neces 
sary covering process for the inner heart. 4 Accordingly 
the inner fire decreases more and more, until at last it 
is extinguished, like a little flame, by some insignificant 
movement. 5 The causes of greater or less longevity are 
discussed by Aristotle in a special treatise. 

Up to this point we have dealt exclusively with 
the common conditions and peculiarities of animal life. 
These common characteristics are displayed in the most 
different forms and degrees of completeness by the dif 
ferent races of animals. The animal kingdom exhibits 

1 De Vita, c. 4 ; see pp. 7 5 DC Repir. 17, 479, a, 7 sqq. 
and 42, supra, andcf. Ees/rir. 17, cf. De Vita, 5, 4G9, b, 21, 470, a, 
478, b, 31 sqq. 479, a, 7 sqq. o (where the suffocation of fire by 

2 As in the extinction of fire coals is cited as an illustration, 
by water. and explained in the same way). 

3 De Vita,c. 5, 496, b, sq. Meteor, iv. 1, 379, a, 3 ; Loiigit. V. 
The third possible case, when 5, 46ti, a, 19, 22, b, 14; Gen. An. 
the supply of the requisite ali- v. 3, 783, b, G. 

ment fails, as in death by starva- ^ 6 Hep: fiaKpofiifoviTOSKcA fipaxv- 

tiou, is here unnoticed by ^torriros ; cf. Gen. An. iv. 10, 777, 

Aristotle. b, 3. Upon the results there 

4 That this is the purpose ai rived at, c. 5, 6, it is imprac- 
served by respiration has already ticable here to enter more fully, 
been proved at p. 43. 



a gradual and continuous progression from the poorest 
and most undeveloped forms of life to the highest, and 
it is Aristotle s undisputed distinction to have first dis 
covered this scale and to have followed it through all 
aspects of animal life. 1 Even the local habitations 
of the different animals, the elements to which they 
belong, enable us to distinguish their several degrees 
of honour and importance. 2 Nor must the variations 

1 As has already been gener 
ally shown, p. 20 sqq. supra ; cf . 
i. 466 sqq. 

2 Aristotle frequently touches 
upon this point. His statements 
upon it, however, are not always 
consistent with one another 
either in regard to the birth and 
habitations, or in regard to the 
elementary constitution of dif 
ferent living creatures. Meteor, iv. 
4, 382, a, 6 (De An. i. 5, 411, 
a, 9 relates to another subject) he 
says : eV 777 KCU tv vSari a /JLOVOV 
(rnv, eV de /n 8e nal irvpl OUK fffriv, 
OTI Tuiv ffwfj.drwv v\r] ravTa. (On 
the statement in the latter clause 
v. i. 483, n. 2,siy>ra). On the other 
hand, according to CiG. N. D. ii. 
15, 42; PLUT. Plat. V. 20, 1 (Fr. Ar. 
19), he had declared, probably in 
the dialogue IT. </nAofro0 as, that as 
there are land-, water-, and air- 
animals (C^ a X P ffa ^ a i twSpa, 
irrt]va, or according to Cic. cum 
alioium animantium ortus in 
ttrra sit, aliorum in aqua, in aere 
aliorum ), there must also be (ya 
ojpdvLa, and the stars must there 
fore be animate. Again, Hist. An. 
v. 1.9, 552, b, 6-15, he speaks of 
worms which spring by spon 
taneous generation from ice, flies 
which spring from fire, whereas, 
Gen,, et Corr. ii. 3, 330, b, 29, he 
had expressly denied that any 

thing at all springs from either 
ice or fire. If we may put down 
to a popular mode of speech 
the mention of air-animals in 
the treatise IT. (pi\o<ro(pias, by 
which are only meant winged ani 
mals, yet the fire-animals men 
tioned in his Natural History and 
alluded to by other writers (cf. 
FABBICIUS, on Sext. Pyrrh. i.41. 
IDELER, on Meteorol. ii. 454 ; 
PHILO, Plant. Noe, 216, A, De 
Gigant. 285, A) cannot be recon 
ciled with his other- statements. 
But, secondly, with regard to the 
material constituents of living 
bodies, Aristotle holds (DeAn. i. 5, 
411, a, 9. iii. 13 init., and the pas 
sage refei red to in i. 482, n. 3, *wy>.) 
that while each contains a mixture 
of all the elements, there may be 
a preponderance of different ele 
ments in different bodies. Here 
also, however, his statements are 
not always consistent. De Bespir. 
13, 477, a, 27, he says : ra /nev yap 

7eVos [and ace. to Gen. An. 
ii. 6, 743, b, 10, shell-fish and 
Crustacea], ra 8 e | VSaros oloi/ rb 
i(av evvfiptav TU>V Se TTTTJ^WI /ccti 
7re(oh/ TO. fj.ev e | aepos ra 8 e/c 
Trvpos. e/cao-ra 8 fv TO?S oiiceiois 
TOTTOIS %x ei r ^ t/ Ta^iv avrtav. On 
the other hand, Gen. An. iii. 11, 
761, b, 13 : rd yap fyvra. &(.irj 



in their vital heat be neglected, as that is a point of the 
greatest moment in determining the perfection of animate 
existence. 1 Together with the vital heat must be men 
tioned the character of the blood and of the humours 
corresponding to it in other animals, on which depends 
the broad distinction between sanguineous and blood 
less creatures. 2 The temper and intelligence of animals 
are regulated in a great measure by the constitution of 
their blood, while of course its influence over their 
physical structure is not less important. 3 It is only 
sanguineous animals which have flesh, the bloodless are 

yTs, aToy Se rd eVuSpa, ra 
5t ire^a o/pos TO 5e /j.a\\ov Kal 
^ITTOV Kal fyyi/Tfpiv Kal Troppwrepov 
TroAArji/ iron? Kal 6av/ 5ta- 
(topdv. TO Se TtTapTov ytvos OVK firl 


jSovAerai 76 Tt Kon-a Tyy TOV Trupoy 
flvai Ta.)-iv. . . dAAa 5e? TO roiovrov 
ytvos VjTeTi/ eVt TTJS o"eA.7jM7s OI/TTJ 
yap (paivtrai Koivuvovaa r?is rerdp- 
Tf]s airo(TTd<Te(i)s, The whole class 
of 7rea (land animals and birds) 
are here assigned to the air, just 
as De tSoim/, c. 5, 444, a, 10, men 
and quadrupeds are classed with 
those oaa jueTe%et /j.a\\ov rrjs TOV 
aepos ^uo-eccs: fire-animals on the 
other hand are said to inhabit the 
moon, of which there is a sugges 
tion also De An. ii. 3, 414, b, 18 
(see p. 20, n. 3, supra). But it 
remains to be asked how in the 
ethereal region, to which the moon 
also belongs, there can be beings 
constituted of all the elements. 
Cf. MEYER, Ari*t. TJiierk. 413 sq 
393, and i. 472 sqq. supra. 

1 De Ifcsp. 13, 477, a, 16 : Ta 


Kal ^VXTJS rfTvx n ffi ai Ti/J.iocTfpzs. 

- On this distinction, of which 
Aristotle very frequently makes 
use, see, besides many other pas 
sages, Hist. An. i. 4-6, 489, a, 30, 
490, a, 21, 26 sqq. b, 9. ii. 15 init 
iv. 1 init. c. 3 init. ; Part. An. ii. 
2, 648, a, 1. c. 4, 650, b, 30, and 
the passages referred to 26, n. 1, 
supra. From Part. iii. 4, 665, a, 3 1 
(ArjjUO/fpiTO? 5 eot/cej/ ov KaXws Sia- 
Aa/8etV Trepl avr 
jUt/cpoT7jTa TWV ava /J-cav 
elVcu ravra = their intestines) 
BRANDiS,ii.b. 1301 concludes that 
Dernocritus had made the dis 
tinction between sanguineous and 
bloodless animals ; the inference, 
however, is a doubtful one, as 
Democritus may have mentioned 
only particular species of animals, 
and the general designation of 
them as &vai/j.z maybe Aristotle s. 
3 Part. An. ii. 2, 648, a, 2 (see 
p. 39. n. 6, s/>ra) ; c. 4, 651, a, 
12: iroXXwv 8 ffTtv alria ri TOV 
(pvffLS Kal KV.TO. Tb fjdos Tols 
Kal KaTa TV)-- a{o-Qt]o~iv, 
s v\r) yip ICTI 


provided with something analogous to flesh ; l the 
former have a heart, the latter another kind of central 
organ. 2 The vital heat and composition of the blood, 
again, determine the development of the organs of 
refrigeration and secretion the brain, lungs, kidneys, 
bladder, and their peculiar functions. 3 In everything 
relating to the motion and posture of animals, Aristotle 
does not fail to recognise a special significance. Some 
tribes grow like plants adhering to the ground : the 
more perfect races, on the contrary, are capable of locomo 
tion at will. 4 Furthermore, he traces very considerable 
differences in the organs of motion and the modes of 
progression displayed by the latter. 5 It is only in the 
case of locomotive creatures that we find the opposition 
of right and left, to which Aristotle attributed much 
importance, 6 together with a more complex organisa 
tion. 7 Lastly, while in shell-fish and plants the head 
looks downwards, and while in animals without feet or 
with many feet it is turned to the middle of the world, 
it is turned upwards in bipeds, and particularly in man. 8 

1 See p. 26, n. 2, mpra. unity and centralisation of the 

2 See p.26,n. 7; p.41,n.3, tup. vital force (ibid. c. 7), while in 

3 See p. 26, n. 8 ; p. 40, n. 1, common with some birds they 
and p. 43, n. 6, supra. have little power of steering their 

4 Hist. An. viii. 1, 588, b, 10 flight (ibid. 10, 710, a, 4). 

sqq.; Part. An. iv. 5, 6"81, a, 12- b See p. 33, n. 3, sup.,andln(/r. 

20; Inyr. An. 19; De An. ii. 3, An. 4,705, b, 13 to end. Aristotle 

415, a, 6, and p. 49, n. 5, gupra. there remarks (70G, a, 18) that 

5 Even birds seem stunted the distinction between right and 
(/ce/coAo/ScoTcu) in this respect, but left reaches its highest develop- 
fish even more so (Part. An. iv. ment in man, Sia rb /COT a tyvmv 
13 init.} ; in the motion of ser- /m.d\i(TTa tx eiv r ^ v ^V a " / - <t>u0fi 8e 
pents and worms there is properly &4\ri&v re rb 8eibi/ rov apurrepov 
no distinction of right and left ttal /cex^pto-^eVoi/. 

(Inc/r. An. 4, 705, b, 22 sqq.) ; in 7 Part. An. iv. 7 init. 

the case of insects the multitude 8 Part. An. iv. 7, 683, b, 18 ; 

of their feet indicates deficient Tngr. An. c. 5 ; De Vita, 1, 468, 



The structure of the body and the relation of its members 
correspond to these differences of posture. 1 In human 
beings the upper portion of the body is lighter than the 
lower, for the sake of their intellectual activity, and 
because of their greater warmth. In quadrupeds the 
size and weight of these parts are greater. As 
the vital heat decreases, and the earthly ingredients 
begin to preponderate, the number of the feet is mul 
tiplied, until at last they disappear, and the whole body 
becomes one great foot. Beyond this point the head 
begins to turn downwards, sensation disappears, the 
animal becomes a vegetable. 2 The size of animals, again, 

a, 5. Man s upright posture is ^yar\> 8e (pepovrbpdpos Kal -n-efrvov 
explained, Resjrir. 13, 477, a. 20, nutp&v &c. [of. i. 467, n. 2, snpra\ 
as the result of the purity and . . . Sib Kal aQpoveo-repa -n-avra ra 
abundance of his blood ; Part An. &a TUV av6pd>irwv evriv. . . . atnov 
ii. 7, 653, a, 30, iii. 6, 6(59, b, 4, it 8 ... on TJ T??S ^vxvs apxr) iroAA< 
is accounted for by the cognate 8r? 8vo-Kivr)T6s Iffri Kal o-w^aroJSrjs. 
fact of his higher temperature, iVi 8 \drrovos jvop.evr)s TT?S 
heat having the effect of raising alpovo-ns Qep^rriros Kal rov yew- 
t he body, as is proved by the fact Sous irAeiovos, rd re (rw/j.ara e\dr- 
that warm-blooded quadrupeds rova r&v &W effrl Kal TroAuTroSa, 
(the fooroKa} are the more up- re Aos 8 arro Sa yiyverai Kal Tero- 
right. Part. An. iv. 10, 686, a, 25, pfva irpbs r^v yrjv. piKpov 8 OVTW 
the argument is put teleologic- irpopaivovra Kal T?> apxV *X vffl 
ally: man has arms instead of fore- /carco Kal TO Kara rrjv KefyaXfy 
feet, bpQov /J.ev yap ecrn fj.6vov TOJV phpiov re\os a/aVrjToV eart Kal 
fyav Sta Tb r^v fyvffiv avrov Kal TT]V avaiaQfiTov, Kal yiverai fywrov. 
o vfflav eli/ai Qeiav epyov Se rov Ingr. An. c. 11 : since manj 

eeiordTOvrbvocTvKctiQpoveivrovro is a biped and designed for an} 
8 5 ov paoiov TToAAoi) TOU avw0tv eVi- upright walk, the upper parts of; 
^aros- TO 70^ /3apos his body must be lighter, the! 
-TTotet T^V Sidvuiav Kal lower heavier. Birds cannot have? 
fae-ncnv. The increased the upright posture ; man on 
weight of the upper portions of account of this posture cannot 
the body requires that it should have wings (for the reason givenj 
be placed horizontally on several for this, the student must consult 
lep-s, ov Sui/a/xeVTjs (pfpeiv TO 0dpos Aristotle himself). Cf. prev. n 
^ s - Kav ra - y-p eo-Tt ra &a and Hist. An. ii. 4, 500, b, 26. 
TaAAa Trapa TOJ/ av6pwTrov 2 Part. An. iv. 10 ; see p. 8li 

yap fffnv ov TO p.kv avu n. 8, supra. 


corresponds to their place in the scale of existence : the 
warmer animals, according to Aristotle s notion, are ge 
nerally speaking greater, and therefore the sanguineous 
animals are larger than the bloodless, although he 
does not fail to notice several exceptions to this rule. l 
Another obvious basis of classification may be found in 
the mode of birth and propagation. Some animals are 
viviparous, and form their offspring in the womb, either 
with or without the intervention of an egg. 2 A second 
class lay eggs, perfect in the case of birds, oviparous 
quadrupeds, and snakes ; imperfect in the case of fishes, 
molluscs, and molluscous ostracea. A third kind pro 
pagate themselves by worms, produced sometimes with, 
sometimes without, copulation, 3 and attaining their ulti 
mate form only after repeated transformation : almost 
all insects belong to this class. A fourth series spring 
by spontaneous generation from slime or from the excre 
tions of animals : as, for instance, the majority of shell 
fish and some fishes and insects. 4 The common funda 
mental type of all these different modes of propagation 
is development from worms through eggs to organic 
form ; 5 but this process runs a different course, produ- 

1 Respir. 13, 477, a, 18; n. 1, supra), c. 5, 755, b, 20, 
Longlt. V. 5,466,b, 18, 28; Part. ii. 5 (see p. 53, n. 1, supra}; 
An. iv. 10, 686, b, 28 ; Hint. An. Hist. An. iv. 11, 538, a, 19. 

ij 5, 490, a, 21 sqq. ; Gen. An. ii. 4 Gen. An. ii. 1, from 732. a, 

I" 732, a, 16 sqq. 25 onwards; Hist. An. i. 5, 489, 

2 The former is the case (#>?. a, 34-b, 18; Polit. i. 8, 1256, b, 
An. ii. 1, 732, a, 32, i. 10, and 10 sqq. On viviparous animals 
elsewhere) with man, horses, see especially Gen. An. ii. 4 sqq. ; 
cattle, dolphins, &c., the latter on the others and on spontaneous 
with cartilaginous fish and vipers, generation, the passage cited p. 

3 Instances of monogenesis 58,n.l,andp. 49, n. 4, s?^., and also 
Aristotle finds in bees and some MBYEB, Arist. Thierk. 453 sqq. 
fishes ; Gen. An. iii. 10 (see p. 58, 5 On the one hand, he holds 

G 2 



cing a more or less perfect result, according to the higher 
or the lower status of the animal. So, since the 
warmer and less earthy animals are the noblest, we may 
say that birth and development follow the warmth and 
material composition of the organisms. 1 The mode of 
their birth reflects the perfection or imperfection of 
their nature, and if we estimate the whole animal 
kingdom by this one standard, we obtain a scale which 
leads gradually from the most perfect down to the least 
perfect. 2 Nor are the senses equally distributed among 

yiyverai [in chrysalisa- 
. TOVTOV 8 otinov on 77 
/repaid irpb &pas eJoro/cet 
aTf\tav T^V at>TT?s, 

that the embryo even of oviparous 
and viviparous animals is vermicu 
lar at first, and, on the other, the 
chrysalisation of insects which 
appear first as worms is a trans 
formation into the form of an egg; 
so that even here the law of ana 
logy does not desert us ; Gen . An. 
iii. 9, 758, a, 32 : ffx^obv yap eoi/ce 
iroLvra (TKOjArj/coTOKeTv irpu>TOV rb 
fiTTiv. eV traffi 8e Kal Tois foo- 


tobv rb KU7],ua rb irpwrov aS 



UVTOS TOV tr/ccoArj/cos eri eV avtf 
q>ov ^aAa/coD. The same is the 
case with moths and similar 
animals. Cf. n. 2, infra. 

1 Gen. An. ii. 1, 732, b, 28 : 



8 fffTlv T] TOV o~Kw\r)Kos (f)v<ri.s. 
/j.Ta 5e TOVTO TO. juev (pOTOKtl rb 
Kv-n/j-a re Aetoj/ ra 8 dreAes, e|cu Se 
yiyveTai re AeiOi , Kaddircp eVt TCOV 
IxdvcuiV e^prjTat 7roA\a/cts. TO. 5 ey 

aUTols (pOTOKOVVTtt Tp6lTOV TiVO. 

uexa T"b (TvffT fifJi.a Tb e^ ap^Tjs 
aJoetSes yiveTai TTfpte ^erat yap Tb 
vypbv vfj-ivi Ae?rT(j5, Kaddirep Uv ft 
TIS d^e Aot Tb TUV cpui 6o~Tpa>tov. 
(Of. on this point Hist. An. viii. 
7.) The insect germ is a worm, 
whether it is born by ordinary or 
by spontaneous generation, and 
the same is true of caterpillars 
and of the supposed spiders eggs. 
irpoeXQovTa. Se irivra TO. trKcoATj/cwSrj 

K2U TOV jU V00l $ Act^3-)^TCt TCAOy 


TO/cf? eV avTcS, 

TTi>ev/j.a Kt 

ra 0pf.t.6Tpa TTJV (pvcriv 

vyp6rpa Kal ^ yewSri TT)S 


ir\ev/j.wi/ 6ff(av tvai/j.6s eVriv . 
wtTTrep Se TO <fov TeAeov, 6 8e a 
ATJ| al rb uibv dreAes, O JTUS 
reAetoi e/c TOV 
iretyuKsv. Warmth and moisture 
are favourable, cold and dryness 
hostile to perfect development 
Aristotle tries to show, 733, a, 3 
sqq., how the various methods of 
production depend upon the 
various ways in which these are 
distributed and combined. 

2 IHd. 733, a, 32: Se 
vorjaaL cbs 

aTTuSi Saxni f] (pvffis. TO. /J.ev yap 
reAewrep.x /cat Oep^^repa TWV 


the different tribes : it is only the more perfect which 
possess all the five senses, while the others partake of 
them in more or less completeness. 1 Again, there are 
only a few animals in which memory and imagination 
are developed from sensation ; and accordingly they 
differ widely in intelligence and docility. 2 In the last 
place, Aristotle turns his attention to the habits and 
character of animals, and is at pains to point out the 
characteristics which establish a closer or more distant 
resemblance between the life of men and brutes, 3 
noticing especially, for instance, how in the sexual 
life of animals and their treatment of their young we 
have all stages, from a merely vegetable indifference up 
to a species of moral conduct towards offspring. 4 

Aristotle failed to combine these different points 
of view in such a way as to establish a complete and 
graduated classification of the whole animal kingdom : 
nor, indeed, did he succeed in avoiding constant errors 
and contradictions in his treatment of this subject, 
owing to the complicated and crossing principles of 

Te\*iov ctTroSiSoxri rb TIKVOV Kara TO /3aiVet irddos avry, SxrTrep efyryrcu 

Trotoj/ [i.e. with perfectly deve- ra yap evrojua o-/ca>A7?KOTO/ceI TO 

loped organs] .... Kal yevva 8)7 irp&Tov TrpozXQwv 8 ^5coS7js yiverai 

ravra <pa ei/ auToTs evOvs. ra 8e o o"/cc6A7j (77 yap xpvffa\\ls Ka\ov- 

Scirrepa ei/ CLVTOIS fjikv ov yevva /uLevrj Svva/j.ii ipov ex e O- e ^ T e /c 

reAeia evdvs (fooroite i 8e yoroK-f)- TOVTOV yiverai ffiov eV rrj Tpiry 

aavra Trpwroi/), Qvpafc Se fooroKel. /u.Ta@o\fj \a/3bv rb rr)s yevf<T(as 

TO. 8e q>ov fj.fv ov reAejoi ysvva, re Aos. 

(p6v 8e yevva Kal TOVTO reAeiov T^ * Hist. An. iv. 8 ; De An. ii. 

(p6v. TO. 8 ert Tovrcav ^v^poTfpau 2, 415, a, 3 ; De Somno, 2, 455, a, 

f^ovra T)]V fyvcriv uov peis ytvva ov 5, and p. 64, supra. 
reAetov 8e u6i>, aAA e^co reAetourai, 2 See the passages referred to 

itaQdirep TO ruv AeTriScordJ* ixQvcav supra, p. 70, n. 4, and p. 38, n. 1. 
yevos Kal Ta /JLaXaKocrrpaKa Kal TO. 3 See p. 38, n. 1, supra. 

/j.a\aKia. rb 8e irf/j,7rrov yevos Kal 4 Hist, An. viii. 1, 588, b, 28, 

tyvxpdrarov ovS t^oTo/ce? e| avrov, cf. Oecon. i. 3, 1343, b, 13. 
aAAa KOI TOV [rb] TOIOVTOV e|co (rv/J.- 


division which he followed. 1 He generally divides the 
brute creation into nine departments, between which 
some transitional forms intervene : these are viviparous 
quadrupeds, oviparous quadrupeds, birds, fishes, whales, 
molluscs, malacostraca, testacea, and insects. 2 Close to 
the oviparous quadrupeds are placed the snakes, although 
in several points they resemble fishes. 3 A more general 
law of classification is his opposition between sanguin 
eous and bloodless animals. To the former belong the 
first five classes of those we have enumerated ; to the 
latter, the remaining four. 4 But though this opposition 
has so broad an application, 5 and though Aristotle uses 
it as an essential distinction, 6 he does not divide the 
whole animal kingdom into the two classes of san 
guineous and bloodless, and then subdivide these into 
species as viviparous, &c. 7 His other systems of classi- 

1 With the following account 
cf . MEYER, Arist. Thierk. 485 sqq. 

2 Hist. An. i. 6, ii. 15 init. iv. 
1 init., Part. An. iv. 5 init., 
among other passages. Cf. 
MEYER, ibid. 102 sqq. 151 sqq., 
ibid. 71 sqq., but especially 84 
sqq., upon Aristotle s objections 
to dichotomy and to other artifi 
cial classifications. 

3 See, on the one hand, Part. 
An. iv. 1 init., Hist. An. ii. 17, 
508, a, 8, among other passages, 
and, on the other, Hist. An. iii. 
7, 516, b, 20, ibid. c. 1, 509, b, 
15, v. 5, 540, b, 30 ; Gen. An. i. 
3, 716, b, 16 ; Part. iv. 13, 697, a, 
9. MEYER, ibid. 154 sq. 

4 See the passages cited, p. 

80, n. 2, supra. $ oSvvarov ets ra avaipa (no other 

5 See p. 80, supra. word could have been used con- 

6 Hist. An. ii. 15, 505, b, 2f> : sistently with the context whicl 

,/ ybp Swprpfi ra peyiffra ytvt] follows). This characteristic is 

irpbs ra \onra rwv 
ra fjLf fvai^.a ra 8 avai/j.a elVat. 
Part, iv.^3,^678, a, 33 : 8ri 
Ian ra /uei/ Hvai/J.a ra 5 avai/jia 
rep \6ycii eVu7rap|ei rq> opi^ovn r}]V 
O Jffiav avrwv. Cf. BRANDIS, ii. b, 
1294 sq. 

7 Cf. MEYER, ibid. 138 sq. In 
Part. An. i. 2 sq. Aristotle sets 
forth in detail the reasons why h< 
regards it as inadmissible to be 
his classification upon such a di 
vision (see i. 241, n. 3, supra, and 
cf. i. 271, n. 2, sup.), expressly stat 
ing, 642, b, 30 : xaAeTrb?/ /iei/ oiiv 
8ia\aj8etV Kal els roiavras Siatyopas 
uv e<rriv e?57j Sicrff Sriovv <ov iv 
Kal fj.rj eV TrAeiocrt 



fication are employed with even less rigour, as when he 
speaks of land- and water-animals, 1 of viviparous, ovi 
parous, and vermiparous, 2 of locomotive and non-locomo 
tive, 3 of two-footed, four-footed, many-footed, and foot 
less, 4 of walking, flying, swimming creatures, 5 of carni- 
vora and herbivora, and so on. 6 Nor does Aristotle, 
in tracing the subordinate species into which the summa 
genera are divided, make use of these distinctions for 
the purpose of classification. He rather tries to find the 
natural divisions by observation, 7 and if he cannot 
succeed in marking off the species by these means, he 
does not hesitate to assume intermediate races belonging 
partly to the one sort and partly to the other. 8 Lastly, 

unsuitable for the differentia of 
a summa species, if for no other 
reason than because it is a nega 
tive one, and negative conceptions 
cannot be further subdivided 
according to any inlying principle 
of classification (642, b, 21, (543, 
a, 1 sqq. b, 9-26). 

1 Hist. An. i. 487, a, 34, viii. 
2 init. ix. 48, 631, a, 21, ii. 2, 648, 
a, 25, among other passages ; cf . 
Part, i. 2, 642, b, 10 sqq. ; Top. vi. 
6, 144, b, 32 sqq. ; MEYER, 84 sq. 
140. See also p. 79, n. 2, supra. 

58 Hist. An. i. 5, 489, a, 34, 
among other passages; see 
MEYER, 97 sq. 141 sq., and p. 
82 sq. supra, according to which 
as a fourth class we should have 
self -generated animals. 

3 Ingr. An. 4. 705, b, 13 ; 
Part. An. iv. 5, 681, b, 33 sqq. c. 
7 init. 

4 Hist. An. i. 4, 489, b, 19 ; 
Part. An. iv. 10, 687, a, 2, 689, b, 
31 sqq. ; Ingr. An. 1, 704, a, 12. c. 
5, 706. a, 26 sqq., b, 3 sqq. 

5 Neu0-Ti/c() and Trrrjva are re 

presented, Hist. An. i. 5, 489, b, 
23, 490, a, 5, as separate classes, 
the latter being subdivided into 
TTTfpcara, iriXwra and Sep/iOTrrepa; 
opposed to these we have as a 
third class all those which move 
upon the earth. 

6 Hist. An. i. 1, 488, a, 14, 
viii. 3, 592, a, 29, b, 15, 28 ; 
Polit. i. 8, 1256, a, 24, among 
other passages ; v. MEYER, p. 100. 

MEYER, ibid. p. 158-329, 
gives an exhaustive account of 

s Such transitional forms are : 
the monkey standing between 
man and viviparous quadrupeds ; 
the bat between flying and walk 
ing animals, but properly with 
as much claim to be reckoned 
among viviparous quadrupeds as 
the seal, which is assigned a place 
between land- and water- ani 
mals ; the ostrich, which, al 
though a bird, in many points 
resembles a quadruped ; the cro 
codile, which is an oviparous 
quadruped approximating to a 


though it cannot be denied that Aristotle s system 
represents a gradual progression toward completeness 
in the animal creation which attains its summit in 
man, 1 yet the respective dignities of whole classes are left 
undetermined, and the different points of view from which 
he judges them intersect each other so awkwardly that 
the same class often ranks higher in one respect and 
lower in another. Zoophytes, generally speaking, are 
less perfect than true animals ; shell-fish are less perfect 
than locomotive creatures, the footless than those which 
are provided with feet, the vermiparous than the ovi 
parous, and these than the viviparous ; all animals than 
man. 2 But whether insects rank above molluscs and 
malacostraca, birds above amphibious animals, fishes 
above snakes, or vice versa, Aristotle does not enable us 
to decide. We may even doubt 3 about the respective 
positions of shell-fish and insects. Again, though san 
guineous animals are the nobler on account of their 
greater vital warmth and their more complex organisa 
tion, still some insects, like bees and ants, are superior 
to many of them in intelligence and art. 4 If birds as 
oviparous animals rank below mammals, their posture 
approximates them to man ; 5 it seems strange, there 
fore, that they should be more remote from mankind in 

fish ; serpents (see p. 86, n. 8, sii- 2 See i. 487 sq. supra. 

jyra);amongbloodlessanimalsthe 3 As MEYER, p. 486, shows. 

nautilus and the hermit crab are 4 Part. An. ii. 2, 648, a, 4 

molluscs which are related to sqq.; see p. 39, n. 6, supra, where 

Crustacea. See the references a solution of the difficulty is sug- 

given by MEYER, pp. 146-158. gested, which, however, is hardly 

The zoological position of man is an adequate one. 
discussed infra, p. -90, n. 1. 5 Ingr. An. 6, 706, a, 25, b, 3 ; 

1 See p. 25 sqq. supra ; p. 28, Hist. An. i. 5, 489, b, 20. 
n. 3, among other passages. 


mode of birth and physical structure than the mammals. 1 
When we take the spontaneous generation of sexless ani 
mals as a sign of a low rank, intermediate between the 
vegetable and animal worlds, we are surprised to find the 
same mode of propagation not only in insects but even 
in fishes. 2 On the other hand, since viviparous animals 
are the most perfect, 3 whales and dolphins, as well as 
skates and vipers, take precedence of birds and amphi 
bious animals, though inferior to them in many respects. 4 
If we explain the transition from quadrupeds to mul 
tipeds, and from these to footless creatures by a continual 
declension of warmth, 5 the bloodless insects ought to be 
warmer than the sanguineous snakes, fishes, and dol 
phins. 6 It cannot be denied that the complex variety 
of the facts cannot always be harmonised with the presup 
positions of the system, and that it is impossible to 
avoid disproportion and even contradictions in its appli 
cation. The majority of these defects appear to have 
escaped Aristotle s notice ; others he tries to avoid by 
artificial means : 7 but he never allows himself to be 
shaken in his great conviction that organic nature 
presents a graduated scale of progressive development 
towards perfection. 

1 Since an upright posture is 
said to accompany greater vital 
heat ; see p. 81 sq. supra. 

- See p. 82 sq. sup., cf . p. 48 sq. 

3 Gen. An. ii. 4, 737, b, 26. 
Cf. p. 83, n. 2, supra. 

In the case of cartilaginous of their natural coldness, whereas 

* See p. 81, supra. 

Cf. MEYER, p. 487 sq. where 
further examples are given. 

7 See also Gen. An. i. 10 sq. 
where the viviparousness of 
sharks is explained on the ground 

lish and vipers this requires no 
proof ; in the case of cetaceans 
their want of feet at least, and as 
compared with birds the position 
of their heads, are in Aristotle s 
view important defects. 

the same property in mammals is 
made to depend upon their 
greater heat and perfection ; cf. 
Part. An. iii. 6, 669, a, 24 sqq. ; 
Gen. An. ii. 4, 737, b, 26, and 
other passages. 






THE end of this evolution is Man. His body unites 
him with the lower animals, and especially with the 
class of viviparous land-animals. 1 But already even in 

1 It might be doubted whether 
man is classed by Aristotle with 
viviparous quadrupeds or placed 
in a class by himself. Thus, Hist. 
An. i. 6, 490, b, 15 sqq., those 
7eV7j which have no subordinate 
species under them are compared 
to the genus &v9p(airos ; on the 
other hand, ibid. ii. 8 init., man 
is opposed to the TeTpdVoSa, and 
the monkey is described as an 
intermediate form between them. 
This apparent contradiction is 
due to the fact that Aristotle has 
no name for the whole class : as 
a biped, man cannot be classed 
along with rerpdiroSa fooroKovvra ; 
on the other hand, feoTOKovvra 
would embrace the whole which 
he declares to be a separate ytvos, 
In reality man is treated as a 
species of the same genus to 
which viviparous quadrupeds be 
long. This is unmistakably the 
intention in Hist. An. i. 6, 490, b, 
31 sqq., where he is described 
along with the lion, the stag, &c., 
as an =I8os rov yeVous rov ruv 

, and 

as one which has no subordinate 
species under it; Part. i. 5, 645, 
b, 24, where opvis is adduced as 
an example of a yevos, av6puiros 
of an eTSos; Hist. An. ii. 15, 505, 
b, 28, where the first class of 
sanguineous animals is described 
comprehensively as faQpuiros re 
Kul TO. faordica TUV rfrpairoScov ; 
ibid. vi. 18 iuit. : Trepi /j.fv ovv rfav 

Trepl irdvrcav . . . Trepl Se ruv 
ocra fooroKfl nal Trepl av6 
Ae/creW ra ffv/uLfBaivovra. Gen. An. 
i. 8, 738, a, 37: ovre yap TO. 
fyoroKovvra ofJLoius e^et irdi/ra [sc. 
ras v(TTpas\ aAA &v9poo7roi /uej/ 
/cat Ta vre^a irdvTa KaTca . . . TO- 8e 
(Te\dx n fooTOKOvvrct &VW. Ibid. 
ii. 4, 737, b, 26 : ra &OTOKOVVTO. 
Kal rovrwv avdpcoiros. A certain 
distinction between man and 
other viviparous land-animals is 
doubtless referred to in these 
and other passages (e.g. Part. 
An. ii. 17, 660, a, 17), but Ari 
stotle does not seem to have re- 


the characteristics of his physical organism we have 
evidences of something higher, which raises him far 
above the lower animals. His body is of a warmer 
temperature than theirs. He has therefore more blood 
in proportion and a larger brain. 1 In him alone, as the 
greater heat and nobility of his nature demands, we 
have true symmetry of form and the upright posture 
which corresponds with it. 2 In man the distinction 
between the right and the left is most fully developed. 3 
As his blood is the purest, 4 his sensibility is most delicate, 
his powers of perception the most refined, and his 
understanding the keenest. 5 His mouth, his windpipe, 
his lips, and his tongue add to their other functions 
that of speech, which marks him out from all living 
things. 6 Nature has not confined man, as she has the 
other animals, to one means of defence. His means of 
self-preservation are infinite, and can be adapted to 
suit his changing needs. 7 His hand is the tool of all 

garded it as sufficiently funda- b, 3, 9, c. 11, 710, b,5-17; De 

mental to constitute " man a Vita, 1, 468, a, 5, and i. 467, n. 3, 

separate yevos. supra. 

1 Part. An. ii. 7, 653, a, 27-37, 3 Ingr. An, 4, 706, a, 18 ; see 
iii. 6, 669,b,4,iv.lO(seep.81,n.8, p. 81, n. 6, supra. 

supra-) ; Respir. 13, 477, a, 20. . 4 Hespir. 13, 477, a, 20. 

Upon this depends also length of 5 See p. 64, n. 6, and p. 11, n. 

life (in which respect man is 4, supra. 

held to be excelled only by the 6 Part. ii. 16, 659, a, 30 sqq. 

elephant) in so far as this de- c. 17, 660, a, 17 sqq. iii. 1, 662, 

pends in turn upon the corre- a, 20, 25 ; Gen. v. 7, 786, b, 19 ; 

spondence between the composi- Hist, An. iv. 9, 536, a, 32. 

tion of the body and the sur- 7 Part. An. iv. 10, 687, a, 23, 

rounding atmosphere, and espe- in the celebrated passage upon 

cially upon the heat of its upper the human hand, after the words 

portions; Gen. An. iv. 10, 777, quoted, p. 11, n. 2, supra, Aristotle 

b, 3 sqq. : Loiujit. Vit. c. 5, 6, 466, says : aAA ol \eyovres ws a-yi/eVrTj/cey 

a, 30 sqq. b, 14, 467, a, 31. ov Ka\a>s 6 fodpuiros aAAa x^ o^a 

2 Besides the passages already rwv &<v [because he is naked 
referred to, cf . Ingr. An. 5, 70(5, and defenceless ; Aristotle has 



tools, so ingeniously contrived for the most widely 
different purposes that it takes the place of every 
other. 1 In a word, man is the first and most perfect 
of all living creatures. 2 And for this reason, just as 
each less perfect thing finds its end in that which is 
more perfect, 3 so all lower forms of animal life are 
destined for the use of man. 4 

It is in the soul of man, however, that this perfection 
has its proper seat. Even his physical superiority has 
only been vouchsafed to him because his body has to 
serve as the instrument of a nobler soul. 5 While the 
other animals are confined to the lower operations of 
the nutritive and sensitive life, man rises above them 
all by virtue of his faculty of thought. 6 Nutrition, 

probably in view PLATO S Pro- 
tayoras, 21, c] OVK opOus Xsyovcriv. 
ra /j.fv yap &AAa piav e% et /3o7j0eicw, 
Kal /j.eral3d\\(o~0ai avrl TCCUTTJS 
erepav OVK effriv, aAA avaynaiov 
uffirep vTroSeSe/ oi ael KaOevo eiv 
Kal Trdvra TTpdrreiv, Kal rfy ire pi 
rb <ra>;ua a\ea>pav /x 

Gen. An. ii. 4, 737, b, 26 : &m Se 
ra re Aeta $a Trpwra, roiavra Se TO 
Kal TOVTOW avOpwiros 

oir\ov e^cuv. r$ 5e 
rds re fioriOeias TroAAds 
*X IV Ka ^ ravras del escort jitero- 
Pd\\eiv, eri 5 OTT\OV olov Uv 
Kal oirov ct.v 

1 See the further account in 
the passage just quoted, and p. 
19, n. 1 ; also DeAn.iii. 8, 432, 
a, 1, where the hand is called 
opyavov opydvcav. 

- Hist. An. ix. 1, 608, b, 5 : 
the ethical characteristics of the 
sexes are more prominent eV TOLS 
dos Kal /j.d\iffTa eV 
TOVTO [sc. rb C^ 0>/ ] 7^-P 

3 Of. p. 28. 

4 Pollt. i. 8, 1256, b, 15: 
Xature has provided that every 
creature should meet with its 
necessary food when it comes 
into the world ; oSo-re 6/j.oius SijAov 
6n Kal yevo/ ollfrfov TO. re 
fyvra TUV (puv eVe/cev eTj/ai Kal 
roAAa (pa TUV avQpwirwv xdpLV, ra 
yuez/ ^epa /cat Sia rty xP^ fflv Ka 
5ia r^]v rpo<pyv. rwv 8 aypiuv, fl 
/j.)) irdvra, aAAa rd ye irXe io ra TTJS 
rpocprjs Kal aAATjs j8o7j0eias eVe/cei/, 
iVa Kal <r6r]s Kal &AAa opyava yivt]- 
rai e| aiircav. i obv T] (pvffis [MfjOev 
/j.7]re dreAes [without reason] Trote? 
pyre /j.drr]v, avayKatov ruv av6pu>- 
TTUV VKv avra ivdvra 7re7rot7]/ceVai 
r})v (pixnv. 

5 See p. 10 sq. supra. 

6 See p. 22 sq. supra. 



propagation, the alternations of 


and waking, 

birth, old age, death, sense-perception, even imagina 
tion and memory, are common to man and beast alike ; l 
nor do these phenomena as they exhibit themselves in 
each differ essentially from one another. 2 And the 
same is true of tfye feelings of pleasure and displeasure 
and the desires that spring from them. 3 That which 
belongs to man alone of all known creatures is Mind or 
Reason (NoOs-). 4 By Nous Aristotle means the power 
of Thought in its widest acceptation, 5 but also more 
specifically the faculty of thought in so far as it deals 
with supersensible reality, 6 and especially the faculty of 

1 Voluntary recollection alone 
is beyond their power; cf. p. 715 sq. 

2 On these points, therefore, 
we have simply to refer to the 
previous chapter. 

3 See p. 22, n. 1, supra. 

4 Aristotle, like Plato, distin 
guishes for this reason between 
the rational and the irrational 
part of the soul; EtJi. i. IB, 1102, 
a, 26 sqq. ; Polit. vii. 15, 1334, b, 
17, and passim. 

5 De An. iii. 4, 429, a, 23 : 

Se vovv Siavoe iTai Kal 

6 After explaining 1 , De An. 
iii. 4, 429, b, 10 sq., the distinc 
tion between the concrete thing 
with its ingredient of matter 
and the pure unadulterated form, 
Aristotle continues, 1. 12: TO 
0-ap/cl eli/cu Kal (rdpxa. ^ &AA<p if) 

ovv al<rOr]TLK(f rb Bep/mbv Kal rb 
fyvxpbv Kpivei Kal uv \6yos ris ri 

rb a-apKl elvat [the pure 
conception of the <rap] /cpiVei. 
The same is true of all abstract 

conceptions : erep^ apa % erepcos 
IXOJ/TI Kpivti. Kal o\ws &pa us 
X^piffTa ra Trpdy/uLara rrjs uArjs, 
0&T60 Kal ra irepl rbu vovv. The 
subject of Kplvei is vovs, as is 
shown by the preceding context. 
It may, indeed, seem strange that 
it is said of it that it knows (for 
we must give this more general 
signification to wpiVetv here, as in 
DC An. iii. 3, 428, a, 2) heat and 
cold and the sensible qualities of 
things in general T< cuVflrj-n/coS 
(where not only is it not neces 
sary on account of the context 
to read alaOrjrf with BEENTANO, 
Psychol. d. Ar. 134, but it is not 
admissible). But while the simple 
perception of the data of sense 
belongs to ataB-ri<ns, and not to vovs, 
yet every judgment relating to 
them is shared in by thought (vovs 
in the wider sense) (cf . i. 209, n. 3, 
and211,n. l,.s-^.); and to this ex 
tent reason also may be described 
as that which by means of the 
perceptive faculty knows sensible 
things. Conceptions, on the other 
hand, as such, universal thoughts 
limited to no individual experi- 



grasping in an immediate act of consciousness that 
which cannot be the object of mediated knowledge. 1 
This part of the soul cannot be entangled in the life 
of the body. It must be simple, changeless, impassible. 2 

ence are known by reason per se, 
although the material for them 
is supplied by sense-perception 
(as in the case of the conception 
of o-apl). Instead of saying this 
simply, Aristotle expresses him 
self in such a way as to leave it 
ambiguous whether these are 
recognised by a faculty different 
from that by which sensible ob 
jects are recognised or by the 
same faculty acting in a different 
way. If we had here a dilemma 
between the two terms of which 
we had to decide, we could only 
say, as Aristotle does, that they 
are known &\\(f> .(vovs being 
another faculty) than by TO cuV07)- 
Ti/coV. But the statement of three 
alternatives, if nothing else, 
shows that Aristotle regards each 
of the first two descriptions as 
admissible in a certain sense. 
The Nous knows insensible things 
by a faculty different from that 
by which it knows sensible ob 
jects, and, indeed, different in 
essence and actual reality (x u P Lm 
crrbv) from the faculty of f-ense- 
perception, seeing that it knows 
them by itself alone ; but in so 
far as it is also true that the 
reason knows sensible things, we 
may say that it know r s insensible 
things by a different method ; it 
knows the former directly, the 
latter only indirectly by means 
of the judgment it passes upon 
the data of sense. This is the 
meaning of the words % us rj 
KK\aff/j.evri &c., the further ex 
planation of which is of minor 

importance in connection with 
the essential meaning of the 
passage, since this would be the 
same even although we take the 
illustration of the broken and 
extended line as merely explana 
tory of &AA.COS exeii/. 

1 To this faculty belong first 
and chiefly the highest principles 
of thought, the fyteo-a; cf. i. 197, n. 
4, supra. In this way (according 
to i. 197, n. 3, sup., cf. the citation 
from Metaph. xii. 7, i. 203, n. 3, 
SV/A) Nous knows itself by an im 
mediate intuition, as thinker and 
thought here coincide. Whether 
the thought of God and other 
metaphysical conceptions are 
also the objects of immediate 
cognition, Aristotle, as already 
observed, i. 204, does not say. 

2 De An. iii. 4, 429, a, 1 8 (on 
what precedes see i. 199,n.2,s?/? ): 
avayKT) apa, eirel irdvTa voel, a/j.iyri 
eli/at, &o"irep fynalv Ava^ayopas [see 
ZELL. / > 7/.d.6V.i.886,l]iW Kparrj, 
TOVTO 8 iffrlv "va. yvup ^rj Trape/x- 
<paiv6ju.j>oj/ yap K(a\vi rb aAAo- 
Tpiov Kal di TKjJ.-paTTej, werre U7j8 O.VTOV 
tlvai (pixriv fj.TfjSein.iav aAA $i Tavrr)v, 
on SvvaTOV. 6 apa Ka\ovfj.evos TTJS 

j/oCy .... ovQtv tffTiv 
TUV ovr&v Trplv votlv. 
Stb ouSe /j.ffj.7^0aL fv\oyov ai/Tbv TCO . TTOIOS TIS yap av ytyvoiro, 
tyvxpbs il} [it would in this 
case partake of the properties of 
the body and as it would thus 
bring with it definite qualities to 
the cognition of yorjra, it could not 
exhibit that atrdQeia see i. 199, 
n. 2, supra and purity from 


Just as it has for its object pure form abstracted from 
all matter, so is it itself free and unfettered by the 
body. 1 It has no bodily organ like the senses ; 2 it is 
not born, into existence like the other parts of the 

admixture which it requires for 
the exercise of its universal 
faculty of thought : an expla 
nation which seems to harmo 
nise better with the meaning 
of Sib &c. than that of BKEN- 
TANO, ilri-d. 120 sqq.], ?) K&V 
6pyav6u TI eftj, &orirfp TO? alfftiririKcp 
vvv $ avQ4v effriv : b, 22. a7ropr)(reie 
5 5 av ns, et b vovs cbrAoDV eerrt 
Kal dirafles [HAYPUCK, Obst TVat. 
crit. in loo. al. Arlst. p. 3, not 
without reason regards these 
words as strange, inasmuch as it 
hardly requires to be explained, 
as is done 1. 25 sqq., that TO 
airades is not subject to trdax* lv , 
he would therefore strike them 
out ; we might prefer instead of 
airaOes to read a/^iyes - see 
429, a, 18 quoted above] Kal 
/j.r)devl jUTjflei/ e^ei Koivbv, . . . TTOJS 
vo ,o~ei, el TO vof iv Trdcrx* iv r L 

&c. ; nor is A^yts eTn- 
yVo~is or aAAoioxns, but 
rather an i)pf/j. ! a Kal Kardo-raffis 
rapaxfns the removal of obstruc 
tions which hinder the reason in 
the exercise of its functions, re 
sembling the awakening from 

1 Seep 93, n. 6, sup. Xupiffrbs 
is of ten applied to Nous, the lower 
faculties of the soul being ax&pi- 
ffroi ; cf . preced. and foil. n. p. 96, n. 
1, infra. De An. ii. 2. 413, b, 24 : 
Trfpl 8e ToG vov Kal TTJS 0ecop7jT(/cf/s 
Svvd/uLfus ov5evTrca<pavfpbv,a\\ OiK 
\!/VXTJS yfvos erepov elvai, Kal TOVTO 

/J.OVOV vSfX ral X a} P L C ff al [ SC - T0 * 

|, Kaddirep rb al Siov TOU 

This independence of the 
reason explains the remark 
which is added, De An. ii. 1, 413, 
a, 4 sqq. to the definition of the 
soul as the entelechy of its body : 
it follows that the soul (or at any 
rate certain parts of it, if it has 
parts) is not separa*e (xcopio-Tos) 
Irom the body : ov /LL^V <xAA end 76 
ovdev /cwAvet (see p. 6, n. 1, supra}. 
Cf. further n. 3 below, p. 96, n. 2, in 
fra, and the passages referred to 
below bearing upon vovs Trotrjri/cbs ; 
also De An. i. 3, 407, a, 33 : T) 
v6t]ais eoiKev ijpffjL^afi nvl Kal 

vii. 3, 247, b, 1 : ouS at TOU 
vof]riKov /Afpovs e^eis aAAotcoa"ets. 
Ibid. 247, a, 28 : a\\a rfv o;5e 

- See preced. and foil. n. and 
the further statement De An. 
iii. 4, 429, a, 29 : cm 5 oi>x fytofe 
rj awddeia TOU alffBrjriKov Kal rov 
yorjriKov, (pavepbv tirl rwv cuV07)T- 
alffO^ffecas. TJ /j,ev "yap 
ov Siivarai alffOdveffdai 
K rov (T(p68pa aiffd^ruv . . . aAA 6 
vovs orav ri vo^ffrj (T(p68pa vorirbv. ou% 
i]TTOv roe? TO uTroSeo"Tepa, aAAa Kal 
juaAAov TO fifv yap alaQt]riKbv OVK 
avevffwnaTos,65ex ca P ia r 6 s - In view 
of these definite declarations, the 
attempt (KAMPE, Erkenntnissth. 
d. Ar. 12-49) to attribute to the 
Nous a material substratum con 
sisting of asther must appear at 
the outset a profitless one. Not 
even the passage quoted p. 6, 
n. 2, from.Gen. An. ii. 3 can be 
adduced in support of it, for 
even there the o-irfp/j.a of the 



soul ; l nor is it affected by the death of the body. 2 It 
is real, therefore, only in the act of thinking; apart 

dpx$?,so f ar as it refers to 
the Nous, is described as -^OIOT^V 
ffw/j-aros and even although it is 
said that it enters the womb 
with the 701/77, it does not follow 
from this that it is united to this 
oran.v other material substratum : 
the Nous is said, indeed, to be in 
the body during life, but not to 
be mixed up with it or entangled 
in its life ; the 701/77 itself it enters 
from without; cf. p. 100, infra. 
Furthermore, even although the 
;etherlike the Nous is called divine 
and unchangeable, the essential 
distinction between them (the 
one is a body, the other is not) is 
not thereby abolished, for it has 
already been shown, i. 476, that 
we have nothing to do with any 
immaterial matter ; and when 
KAMPE, p. 32, 39, argues in sup 
port of his view that the stars, 
which are made of tether, are in 
telligent beings, he forgets that it 
is not the stars themselves that are 
so, but the spirits by whom they 
and their spheres are moved. 
Although, lastly, the Nous is said, 
Etli. x. 7, 1177, b, 34, as com- 
paied with the multiplicity of the 
other faculties of the soul, to be 
of small compass (ry oyK<? piKphv) 
but pre-eminent in power and 
value, we cannot fairly conclude 
from this metaphorical expies- 
sion that it is held by Aristotle 
to be united to a body. 

1 Gen. An. ii. 3, 736, a, 31, 
Aristotle asks : TroVepoj/ ej 

uei/ ex oVTa dereov, 
ej/ep7eia 8 OVK C^OI/TO, irplv 3) 
Ka.Qa.TTfp TO. x (l} P l / iiVa T ^ J/ Kurj- 
fj.draji e A/cet T^V rpocprjv Kal irotel TO 
TTJS ToiavTfjs tyvxrjs epyov. With 
regard to the tyux*) ala-d-rjTiK^ 
and J/OTJTI/C?? he then shows that 
either all their parts must come 
into being for the first time at the 
moment of birth or must all have 
pre-existed, or else that some of 
them do the one, some the other, 
and continues : on uej/ 
oi>x ol6v re iraffas ir 
<f>avepov fffTiv e/c tuv TOIOVTWV. 
oaruv yap eVru/ apx&v f] evepyeia 

), ST)\OV ori ravras iivfv 
aSiivarov inrdpxtw, olov 
avev irofi&v wcrre Kal 
dvpaOev tiffievai aSvisarov. OVT 
yap avras KaO auras elffievtu olov 
re dx<^p 0"TOus ovcras, OUT eV 

fiffievcu TO 7ap o"irpfj.a 

Kvf]/j.aTi T) ou, Kal irodsv ; to which 
he replies (b, 8) : TT> p.*v olv 
tfpeTm/cV \J/uxV ra o-Trep^ara Kal 
TO. KUTjjuara TO. x<P l(rra SJjXoj/ OTI 

rpo(pr)s eo-Tli/ [and therefore not 
something coming from with 
out]. A.et7T6TC 8e [8^7] TOI/ vovv 
JJL&VOV QvpaQev tire iff ifvcu Kal Qtlov 
e?j/ai n.6vov ovQtv yap avrov rrj 
evepyeia KOIVWV elffwfAaTiK}) ivtpycia. 
737, a, 7 : TO 5e TT^S 701/775 &c. 
see p. 6, E. 2, sup. DeAn.i. 4; see 
foil. n. For further discussion of 
ihe question of the entrance of 
reason into the body, see p. 80, 

2 De An. i. 4, 408, b, 18 : o 
5e vovs eoiKfv tyyivtffQai oucrta ns 
olaa Kal ou <pOtp0~dai. ^aXiara 
yap {(pdeipeT 1 &/ UTTO TTJS et/ TW 
77jpa a/a-avpuxreus, vvv 8 io~cas oirep 
eVi TUV alffdtiTiqpiiav o"UyU)8atJ/t et 
7op AajSpt o TrpeaftvTT]S o /x^a Totoi/St, 

/3\TTOl iSlI/ &0"7Tep Kal 6 VfOS. 

TO 77jpas ov rtf T^V 


from this it is the mere potentiality of thought. 1 And 
since actual thought in the sphere of nature precedes 
the mere potentiality to think, while in the sphere of 
the human mind potentiality necessarily precedes 
actuality, 2 Aristotle distinguishes two kinds of Reason 
in man the Actual and the Potential, the Active and 
the Passive : 3 that which produces everything, and that 
which becomes everything. 4 The former alone is sepa 
rate and distinct from the body impassible, eternal, 
immortal, absolutely pure and perfect Actuality. Pas- 

Bfvai, a\\ ev [ = ctAAa ry ireirov- 

G4vai Ti Kf7vo v a> T] ^iix?) <TTiJ/], 

KaQdirep V /j.edais Kal voffois. Kal 

rb voetv 8^ Kal rb Qewpe iv [j.apaiverai 

&\\ov rivbs effca [inside the body] 

i (p0ipo/j.vov, avrb 8e airades Icrnv 

I [the subject of anaOfs is rb voovv, 

I which corresponds to vovs above 

land is to be supplied from voeiv] 

I . . . 6 8e vovs "crcas Qedreptv ri 

I Kal O7ro0f s eo-Tti/. iii. 5, 430, a, 22 

ij (see p. 98, n. 1, infra) ; MetapJt. 

Ixii. 3, 1070, a, 24 sqq. (see Sec. 

Ion Immortality, infra). 

1 De An. iii. 4, 429, a, 21 sqq. 
b. 5 sqq. 30 ; see i. 199, n. 2, 

ttupra, where the meaning of this 
I statement is further explained. 

2 See i. 199, n. 2, supra 

3 Aristotle certainly speaks of 
vovs iraQ-nriKbs (see p. 98, n. 1, 
injra) ; on the other hand, he no 
where uses the expression iroiriTi- 
l/cbs vovs (cf. BONITZ, Ind. Ar. 491, 
jb, 2 ; WALTER, Die Lclire v. d. 
prakt. Vern. 278 sqq.), perhaps 
because he wished to avoid the 
(ambiguity which might arise out 
jof the opposition he elsewhere 
(makes betwc en iroict 

on the one hand, and 

(on the other (see i. 182, n. 2, 


supra), if the vovs iroirjT. were 
taken to be the antithesis of 
vovs 6ewpr]TLKbs (I)e An ii. 3, 415, 
a, 11, iii. 9,432, b, 27, iii. 10,433, 
a, 14), in the same sense as vovs 
TrpattriKos ( De An. iii. ibid.) must 
be. But a-< the vovs- iroir]T. is called 
oanov Kal TrotrjriKbv, as it is said 
Trdvra iroLe?:/. and as iroirjriKbs is 
elsewhere constantly used as the 
antithesis of TraQiiTiKbs (Tnd. Ar. 
555. b, 16 sqq.), we seem to be 
perfectly justified in speaking- 
of the passive and the active 
reason, especially as this seems 
to be already a recognised mode 
of exprfssion in ALEX. De An. 
140 (cf. WALTER, 282). 

4 De An. iii. 5 init.: eVel 3 
uffirtp fv airdffr) rrj Qvirei earl n 
rb v\f] ettdffTCi} ytvei (TOVTO 8e 
& irdfra Swd/ufi e/celz/a), erepov 5e 
rb atnov ical TTOL^TIKOV, TW TroteiV 
Trdvra, olov i] r^vf] irpbs r^v vArjv 
TTfirov6fv, avdyKT] Kal eV T?) ^uxf5 
virdpxtLV ravras ras Siacpopds. Kal 
(.ffTLv o /j.fv TOIOVTOS vovs rca irdvra 
yivo~dai, 6 8e T> Trdvra jroie iv, &s 
%is TJS, olov rb <p&s Tp6irov yap 
riva Kal rb <pu>s TroteT ra vvd[j.ei 
uvra xpcf>/maTa evepyeia ^pw/^ara. 




sive Reason, on the other hand, is born and dies with 
the body, and is a partaker in its states. 1 

If we try, however, to reduce this account to a clear 
and consistent theory, we are met by many questions 
which Aristotle has left unanswered. 

1 Ibid, where Aristotle con 
tinues : Kal OVTOS 6 VOVS [6 TTOtT]- 

TJK&S] xa?pto"rbs Kal a-jrad^s Kal 
afj.iy^s TT} ovff ia &v eVepye a [or 
evepyeta], del yap Tiu.idoTfpoi rb 
TTOLOVV TOV ira<r\ovTOs Kal ri apxT] 
TTJ9 v\~ns. Tb 5 avro effTiv rj Kar* 
tvepyeiav eViO TTJjU rj TO? -rrpdy/dart [ of. 
i. 398. n. 3, supra] 11 8e Kara Svvapiv 
Ypoi O? TrpOTfpa eV TW evl t OAOJS 8e 
ou5e [so TOKSTR. reads instead of 
ou] Xpovif dAA oi>x ore voci 
ore 5 ov j/oeT. x w P L(T ^ LS 5 eVrl 
ju^ov Tt)0 oVep eVri [apart from 
the body it is only what it is 
without admixture of any foreign 
ingredient], /col TOVTO fi6vov a9d- 
VO.TOV Kal a tiLov. ov p.vr)/JLOVfi>ou.i> 
8e, 6Vt TOVTO /J.fv airaOes, 6 5e 
TradrjTiKbs vovs tyOapTbs Kal avev 
TOVTOV ovQev vofl. The words at 
the beginning of this passage 
are interpreted by BRENTANO 
(Psycliol. d. Ar. 175) and HERT- 
IJNG- {Mat. n. Form, 173) as 
meaning this Nous also is 
separate. This is opposed, how 
ever, both to the grammar and 
to the sense of the passage ; in the 
first place, the connection is thus 
broken between this sentence and 
the preceding (we should require 
at least Kal OVTOS 5e o vovs &c.), 
and, secondly, not only is there 
nothing in the previous discus 
sion about another kind of Nous 
which is also x ca P to " r ^ )S an( ^ airadys, 
but Aristotle knows of none such, 
the vovs iraQr]TiKbs, of which he has 
j ust been speaking, being of course 
not a trades, while the Nous that 

is spoken of, c. 4 (as will be shown 
p. 101, n. 2, infra), is itself the 
active Nous. The words: rb 5 avTo 
. . . xp6v<p that follow are repeated 
at the beginning of c. 7 ; but as 
they there awkwardly interrupt 
the connection, TORSTRIK, p. 199, 
is doubtless right in holding that 
they along with the rest of c. 7, 
$ 1 (to T6TeAe(7>teVoi/, 431, a, 7) 
are out of place. On the other 
hand, TORSTRIK (p. 185) cannot 
be right in striking out the 
ol>x in the words a\\ oi>x 
ore yitei/ roe? &c. According to his 
reading no intelligible meaning 
can be attached to the remark 
that the Nous at one time thinks, 
at another it ceases to think ; 
whereas it becomes quite intelli 
gible if we suppose Aristotle to say: 
In the world as a whole merely 
potential knowledge does not pre 
cede actual knowledge even in the 
order of time (not to speak of that 
of being) ; it is not the case (in the 
world as a whole) that the Nous 
[this must in any case be supplied 
as the subject] at onetime thinks, 
at another ceases to think. (To 
make this sense more obvious 
a comma might be placed instead 
of a colon before dAA. ovx &c.) 
Nor is this sense inconsistent with 
fj.r) del voftv, c. 4, 430, a, 5, as 
these words refer to thought in< 
the individual, in which the pas 
sage before us also recognises the 
distinction between the potential 
and the actual, and therefore rb 
u,?] del voetV. 



In the first place, with regard to Active Reason, it 
might appear that this is not only the Divine in man, 1 but 
that it is identical with the Divine Spirit itself. For while 
it enters each man along with the germ of his physical 
and psychical nature as something individual, yet at the 
same time the terms in which it is described are such as 
apply only to the Universal Spirit. It is at least difficult 
to understand what is left of individuality when we have 
abstracted from it not only all corporeal life, but also 
all active evolution, 2 all passive states, and with these 
all memory and self-consciousness. 3 So far Alexander 
of Aphrodisias had excellent cause to seek for the 
Active Reason in the Divine Spirit rather than in a 
part of the human soul. 4 But this cannot be Aristotle s 
meaning. For the extramundane Divine Spirit cannot 
be identified with the indwelling principle of Reason 
which passes into the individual at birth and is a part 
of the human soul. 5 Yet how we are precisely to 
I represent to ourselves this part of our soul, and what 
kind of reality we are to ascribe to it, it is difficult to 
sav. Since it is said to enter the body from without, 6 

See the passages cited, p. 9ti, 
n. 1 and 2, supra, and Etli. x. 7, 
1177, a, 15: eiVe Qzlov bv Kal avrb 
[o vovs] et re TMV ev TJ/UUV Oeiorarov. 
b, 30 : el 5/? Qeiov o vovs irpbs rbj/ 
I &i>Qpct)irov. 

2 This can only be where there 
tis a transition from the potential 

to the actual; in the active rea- 
ison, on the other hand, there is 

nothing merely potential, for all 
{is pure actuality. 

3 That even these belong to 
(the sphere of the passive reason 
" i expressly stated De An. iii.5(p. 

97, n. 1), and proved in the sequel. 

4 Of. Part. iii. a, 712, 4. 

5 The distinction between the 
active and the passive reason is 
said (and to this THEMIST. De 
An. 89, b, pp. 188 sq. Sp. and 
AMMON. in, PHILOP. De An. Q, 3, 
o, also appeal) to reside eV rfi \j/vxfj 
(see ibid, supra) ; of one fidpiov 
rrjs tyvxrjs it is said, De An. iii. 4, 
429, a, 10, 15, that it is a.tra.Qes ; 
the vovs xvpivrbs is called. De An. 
ii. 2, 413, b, 21, tyuxrjs yevos 
erspov &c. 

6 See p. 96, n. 1, supra. 

H 2 


it must have existed previously. And this is evidently 
Aristotle s view. 1 Since, moreover, even after it has 
entered the body it stands aloof from it and takes 
no part in its activity, 2 the independence of its life is 
not compromised by this union, nor is it conditioned in 
any way by the life of the body. But on the other hand, 
whether we look at the matter from our own or from 
Aristotle s point of view, the individuality which belongs 
to Reason as a part of the human soul appears in this 
way to be sacrificed. For according to Aristotle the 
individual Callias or the individual Socrates is consti 
tuted only by the union of the universal form of man 
with this particular human body. 3 So, in like manner, 
only when Reason enters a human body and employs it 
as its instrument do we have an individual human 
reason. But how when it is united with no body, or 
when in spite of such union it has no material organ 
and is wholly unaffected by the body, it could be the 
reason of this definite individual how. in other words, 
it could constitute a rational Ego, baffles comprehen- 

1 In the passage 736, b, 15 sqq. ou% ol6v re Travas 

referred to at p. 96 sup., it is said (pavepov earn/ [since some are 

with regard to the if^x^ a-la-e-nriK^ united to bodily organs], ware Kal 

and VOIITIK)I : avayKalov 5e Ijroi w QvpaQev etVieVcu aSwarov it is 

ovaas Trporepov [so. ras t|/ux s ] e> 77 1 - obvious that according to^ Ari- 

vecreaLirdtfas^TrdffasTrpovTrapxovffas, stotle Trpovirapxew and 0upa0et/ 

ft ras u.ev ras 5e ^77, Kal t-yyiveaQai etVieVat are inseparably con- 

ft ev TT7 SA.TJ [therefore in the nected, and that accordingly if 

menses] MT? et<re xQovvas ev r$ rov the latter is true of the Nous and 

appevos ffTrepnari, ?) evravQa [in the of it alone, the former must also 

mother] ^v &9*v [from the be true 

/ ~\ > n ^ ^ * >* A 2 r^-P T\ Q4. 11 2 T) Of) Tl 1 S?/ /? I 

elpaQev tyytVOfJifvas airdffas % ,arjSe- (owflev auroD TT; ivepyeia 

u. o.v % ras i^v ras 8e fi-ff. As the o-ajuartK^ eVe pyeia). 
passage proceeds immediately to 3 Cf. i. 369, n. 5, 6, supra. 

say (see p. 96, n. 1. , on ^ roivvv 



sion. 1 Aristotle himself says, 2 indeed, that we do not 
recollect the former existence of active reason, because 
it is the passive reason which renders thought possible, 
and this is perishable ; 3 just as he predicates con- 

1 How its connection with 
the body is in this case possible 
at all is equally unintelligible, 
seeing- that according to p. 106, 
n. 5, infra, the body is connected 
with the soul itself as its tool. 

- In the words quoted p. 98, n. 
1, .s?//;., from De An. iii. 5, 430, a, 
23 : ov /jvf]^ovtvofj.ev 8e &c. It does 
not matter very much whether 
\ve understand these words in 
their simplest sense as meaning 
that in the present life we have 
no recollection of the former one, 
or that after death we have no 
recollection of the present life, or 
more generally that the eternal 
life of the active Nous is wholly 
without memory for the reasons 
why we do not remember hold of 
the continuity of consciousness 
between the life which the rtason 
lives in union with the passive 
Nous and that which it lives in 
freedom from it both backwards 
and forwards. In the first in 
stance, however (as is shown by 
BIEHL, Uel>. d. Begr. des vovs I. 
Arist. Linz, 1864, p. 12 sq., and 
TKENDELENBUKG in loco, who, 
however, afterwards, n. on p. 404, 
2nd ed., changed his view), the 
words certainly mean that in the 
present life we remember no 
former one. This is the meaning 
suggested by the context and 
supported by the present tense of 
the verb. 

3 Ov]p.ovevofj.v oe on TOVTO 
/Jifv curates, 6 8e TradrjTLKbs vovs 
fyQap r bs Kal &vev TOVTOV ovdev i/oe?. 
TRENDELENBUEG translates the 

hitter words, and as the passive 
reason does not think anything 
apart from the active reason. 
But it is not easy to see what 
they add to the explanation. If 
memory belongs to the vovs Traflr?- 
TiKos of course, as Qdaprbs (which 
as the antithesis of a ioiov refers to 
the beginning as well as the end 
ing of existence, cf. i. 360, n. 1 
Jin. supra) the latter can have no 
recollection of the time in which 
it did not yet exist, or at the time 
in which it no longer exists ; and 
the remark itzl &vev &c. is there 
fore superfluous. If, on the other 
hand,it is the vovs airaO^s to which 
memory belongs, the failure of 
memory is not explained at all, 
since it is said, not that it cannot 
do without the vovs TraQ-nriKos, but 
that the vovs irad. cannot do with 
out it in the exercise of its activity. 
We must takerouTou, therefore, as 
meaning the vovs iraQrjT. and vosl 
either in an absolute sense, ac 
cording to a familiar usage in 
Aristotle = ovOev voti o vo&v (or r) 
tyvxy), no thought is possible, or 
as having the active Nous for its 
subject. The latter is not incon 
sistent with the previous ovx ore 
Hfv vof? &c. (p. 98, n. 1); for 
even there it is admitted that in 
the individual potential know 
ledge precedes actual, and there 
fore ovx ore fj.ev voe~i i&c. does not 
apply to individual thought. It 
is of this, however, that we must 
understand Aristotle to speak in 
the words, &vev TOVTOV ov&tv i/oei, 
which mean, therefore, nothing 


tinuous thought (which he attributes to active reason) 
only of reason in general, and not of reason in any 
individual. 1 But where shall we look for that principle 
of reason which in unchangeable, eternal, unfettered 
by the body, and ceaselessly active, if it coincides 
neither with the Divine thought on the one hand, nor 
with the thought of any individual on the other? 

No less serious are the difficulties that surround tlie 
doctrine of the passive reason. We understand what 
led Aristotle to distinguish in the first instance a two 
fold reason in man : he could not overlook the gradual 
evolutions of the spiritual life and the difference be 
tween the faculty and the activity of Thought; while, 
on the oilier hand, he was forbidden by the principles 
of his philosophy to think of Pure Reason as in any 
sense material, or at least to predicate of it attributes 
and states which can belong to matter alone. We see, 
also, what in general he meant by the phrase Passive 
Reason : viz. the sum of those faculties of representa 
tion which go beyond imagination and sensible percep 
tion and yet fall short of that higher Thought, which 
has found peace in perfect unity with its object. The 
Passive Reason is that side of Thought which deals 
with the manifold of sense. It has its roots in the life 
of the body, and develops out of sensible experience. 2 

more than the statement else- (Gescli. d. Fnt>r. i. 518, cf. 

where made, that the soul cannot Ilandb. ii. b, 1178) understands 

think without a (t>dvTa<T[j.a (cf. p. by passive spirit, spirit in its 

108, n. 2, infra). connection with representation 

1 In the words of the passage in so far as it borrows the 

we have been discussing- (p. 98, material for mediating thought 

11. 1) : ?] 5e Kara Svva/jLiv xpovq) irpo- from it and sensible perception 

eV T(f kv\ &c. and requires mental pictures, or 

In this sense BEANDIS in so far as it operates as mediat- 



But when we go on and try to form a more definite 
conception of this part or faculty of the soul, we find the 
theory full of the most obvious contradictions and 
defects. On the other hand, Passive Reason is iden 
tified with Nous and the spiritual element in man. 
This Aristotle definitely distinguishes from all the 
faculties of sense-perception, so that it is impossible to 
identify it either, as Trendelenburg l did, with the unity 
of these, or, as Brentano does, 2 with fancy as the seat 
of mental pictures. 3 All these man has in common 
with the beasts, whereas Nous is that which elevates 
him above them. 4 And yet, on the other hand, every 
thing is denied of the Passive Reason as such, which 
elsewhere is regarded as peculiarly characteristic of 
Reason itself. Speaking of Nous quite generally, 
Aristotle says that it is neither born nor dies ; it is 
liable to neither suffering nor change ; it is separate 
from the body and has no bodily organ ; it .acts altogether 
independently of the body : it enters it from without ; it 

ing thought. Similarly, BIEIIL, 
Uel. d. Bctjr. d. vovs b. ARIST. 
(Linz, 1864, Gymn. Proyr.*), pp. 
16 sq. But the difficulties above 
noted are not thus met. 

1 Arist. DC An. 493 (405) : 
Quas a sensu inde ad imagina- 
tionern men tern antecesserunt, ad 
res percipiendas menti neces- 
saria ; sod ad intellegendas non 
sufficiunt. Omnes illas, qua? praas- 
cedunt, facultates in unum quasi 
nodum collectas, quatenus ad res 
cogitandas postulantur, vovv iraGri- 
TIK^V dictas .esse arbitramur. 
Similarly, HERTLIXG, Jfat. u. 
Form, 1 74, defines vovs iraQ. as the 
cognitive capacity of the sensi 
tive part. 

2 Psychol. d. Ar. 208 sq. 

3 Upon which see p. 108, n. 2, 

1 Cf. p. 58 sq., p. 61, with 
p. 93 supra. The name itself of 
vovs Trad-rjT. is a preliminary ob 
jection to this explanation. For 
the faculties of sensation and 
presentation Aristotle has the 
fixed terms, au<rQt}ffis and Qavraffia. 
Why, then, should he make use of 
another incomprehensible and 
misleading one without giving 
any indication that it is synony 
mous with these terms? Nor can 
appeal be made to Etli, vi. 12, 
1143, b, 4, as aiaQ-nffis does not 
there mean sense-perception ; cf. 
i. 250, n. 1, supra. 



neither comes into existence with ifc nor perishes with 
it. 1 Yet in the sequel we learn that all this holds in 
truth only of the Active Reason. It alone is bodiless, 
impassible, eternal, imperishable, &c.~ By what right, 
then, Passive Reason can be regarded as Nous, or how 
two natures with characteristics so incompatible the 
one mutable, the other immutable ; the one passive, the 
other impassive ; the one mere potentiality, the other 
ceaseless activity how these two can constitute one 
being, one spiritual personality, passes comprehension. 
Nor do we require to look further than the impossibility 
of harmonising the Aristotelian doctrine of the twofold 
Reason with itself to find an explanation of the wide 

1 Cf. p. 93 sq. 

2 See p. 98. The attempt 
to obviate this difficulty by the 
supposition of a third form of 
vovs, as the receptive understand 
ing, differing alike from the 
active and the passive reason and 
alluded to l)e An. iii. 4 (!JKBS- 
TAXO, Pnychol. d. AT. 143, 175, 
204 sq. 208 ; HERTLING, Mat. >i. 
Form, 170 sq.) cannot be sup 
ported. Aristotle indeed calls 
vovs (De An. iii. 4, 429, a, lf>) 
Se/m/cbi rov ei Sou?, but there is 
not a word to indicate that he 
regards this receptive reason 
as a third faculty different from 
the active and passive. He is 
speaking in l)e An. iii. 4 of Nous 
quite generally, as he does al- o in 
identical terms and with the same 
generality in De An. i. 4. ii. 1, 2 ; 
Gen. An.ii. 3 (p. 94, n. 2 ; p. 95, 
n. l,p. 96, n.2, *?/_/;. ) ^ is equally 
difficult to obtain any clear con 
ception of this receptive under 
standing or to find a place for 
it in Aristotle s doctrine of the 

soul. Nor, indeed, would any 
thing be gained by such an as 
sumption. If it is said, in De An. 
iii. 5, that the active Nous alone 
is ^ci pi(TTt>s, aTraOrjs, a ( uj-yr?s, aOd- 
varos, aiSios, and if the same pre 
dicates are assigned in c. 4 to 
a different faculty, i.e. the re 
ceptive reason (there is no ex 
press mention, indeed, here of its 
eternity, but this is involved in 
X^ifTT6s),we have simply a con 
tradiction in terms. If, on the 
other hand, those predicates are 
first assigned to Nous in general, 
and it is afterwards added that 
they belong only to the higher 
part of it, whereas the other 
statement made about it (that 
it is nothing evcpyeia before it 
thinks ; see, p. 94, n. 2, supra) is 
true of its lower part, there is at 
least no obvious contradiction in 
the explanation. In this case the 
difficulty arises later, when we 
further ask how are we to con 
ceive of these two parts in de 



divergence of the views of its critics as to its true 

aning. 1 

Reason realises itself in Thought, which regarded in 
its essence is not the mediate process of forming con 
ceptions by the gradual union of their several parts, but 
is a single immediate apprehension of intelligible reality, 
constituting one indivisible act. 2 It deals, not with 

Theophrastus had already 
found difficulties in Aristotle s 
doctrine of the Nous (cf. 2nd ed. 
pp. 677 sq.) The example of Ari- 
stocles and Alexander of Aphro- 
disias shows (cf. ZELL. pt. iii. a. 
703 sq. 7 12) how the later Peripate 
tics differed on the subject. l.f. 
further the citations and expla 
nations of THEMIST, D<> An. 89, 
b, 9 sq. and PHILOP. De Art. Q. 
2, and sqq. (less satisfactory is 
SIMPL. DC An. 67, b. f.)- In the 
middle ages it was chiefly among 
the Arabian philosophers and the 
Italian followers of Averroes that 
the question was debated. The 
older and the more recent views 
upon the doctrine of the two 
fold na ureof the Nous, especially 
(p. 8-29) those of Avicenna, Aver 
roes and Thomas, are fully dis 
cussed by BRENTANO, ibid. 5 sqq. 

- As already shown (i. 203, n.3, 
sup.}, Aristotle describes the 
thinking of j/ousas a contact of it 
with the object of thought. In this 
way it has unity and especially 
qualitative simplicity, which is 
not, like the unity of space and 
time, again itself divisible ; DeAn. 
iii. 6 init. : r? ^v olv ru>v aSiaiperwv 
vofiffis eV ryirrots, ?repl a OUK etrrt 
rb i|/eG5os . . . rb 5 dStaiperoi/ 
eVei Six^J, v) 5vvd/j.i r) ivepytLa, 
ovQtv KwXvei vofTv rb aSiaiperov, 
brav vorj rb (J.TIKOS aSiaiperov yap 


ica e 
a o ". 

o i Siaipero? /cat 
ru> /J.-f]KC-L. ovicovv ^CTTIV 
iV eV TO) yfjiiffei ri evvoe? eKa- 
, ov yap ecrriv, Uv /x?} SiaLpeOfj, 
aAA r) $wdu.i [i.e. in every spatial 
quantity, if it is presented, not 
successively, but simultaneously 
as a whole, an aSiaiperov is 
thought, for though divisible it 
is not actually divided] . . . rb 
8e jur; Kara iroabv aSiaiperov a\\a 
rw e /Set t-oet eV afiiaiperw XP V V 
Kal aSiaiperw r-rjs ^VXTJS. After 
sho\ving further that in the case 
of space and time the indivisible 
qu entities like the point are known 
only by antithesis to the divisible, 
and that this is so also with evil, 
Aristotle continues, 430, b, 24 : 
e riVL |Ur/ tffnv tvavriov TU>V 
iwv [these words, which Toit- 
STRIK also. li)3 sqq., endeavours 
to emend by a conjecture which 
is not quite clear, seem ob 
viously to be most simply 
emended by assuming that ra>i> 
cuVtW, for which Cod. S. gives 
r. ivavriwv, his arisen from 
evavriov by a reader s error and 
duplication ; for the Trpwrov, the 
divine reason, is said also to have 
no evavriov by reason of its im 
materiality, Metapli. xii. 10, K)75, 
b, 21, 24], avrb eavrb yivuffKti 
Kal eitpyeia effrl Kal x<P lff ^v. 
That this knowledge is immediate 




any combination of conceptions, but with the pure 
conceptions themselves, which are the imdemonstrable 
presuppositions of all knowledge. It is, therefore, 
absolutely true and infallible, 1 and must be distin 
guished from mediate apprehension 2 or knowledge/ 5 Yet 
Aristotle fails to tell us what are the faculties upon 
which its exercise depends and what is its relation to 
these, although we can hardly but suppose that some 
operation of the Active upon the Passive Reason is here 
meant. Similarly- Opinion 4 may be regarded as the 
product of Reason and Perception, 5 although here also 

is implied both here and in pas 
sages such as Anal. Post. i. 3, 
72, b, 18, ii. 9 -i/iif. (TWV ri eVrj 
ra ,uej/ faccra KCU apxai flaw, a Kal 
t ivai Kal ri tffnv vTroQeaOai 5e? ?} 
&\\ov rp6irov (pavepa troLriffai) ; c. 
H), 91, a, 9, where it is added 
that the reason is the faculty 
which has to do with first prin 
ciples. Of. i. 245 sqq., i. 197, n. 4, 

1 t- ee i. 197, n. 4, supra. 

- This mediate knowledge 
was distinguished from vovs by 
Plato by the name Sidvom or eVi- 
0-Tt (see ZELL. pt. i. 536, 2) ; 
similarly Arist. De An. i. 4, 408, 
b,^ 24 sqq. where it is called 
Sicmua, and Hid. ii. 3, 415, a, 7 
sqq. where it is called \oyia phs 
and Sidvoia. Usually, however, 
Aristotle employs didvoia and 
Sia.voe io Oai in a wider sense, for 
thought generally (e.g. Metaph. 
vi. 1, 1025, b, 0; Polit. vii. 2, 
1324, a, 20, c. 3, 1325, b, 20; 
Etli. ii. 1 init. ; Poet. 6, 1450, a, 
2, and elsewhere) ; rlt XoyiariKov 
indicates (De An. iii. 9, 432, b, 26) 
likewise the faculty of thought 
in general, although in most 

places (e.g. Eth. vi. 2, 1139, a, 12, 
sqq. ; De An. iii. 10, 433, a, 12, b, 
29, c. 1 1, 434, a, 7) it is the delibe 
rative faculty, or practical reason 
(see infra). On Sidvoia, cf. ALEX. 
onMetaptt. 1012, a, 2; THEMIST. 
DC Art. 71, b, o ; TIJENDELEN- 
BUKG, Arist. De An. 272; 
SCHWEGLBB, Arist. Metapli. iii. 
183; I JON IT/, Arist. Netajili. ii. 
214, and especially WAITZ, Arist. 
Org. ii. 298 ; on Aoytojubs BONITZ, 
ibid. 39 sq. 

3 Eth. vi. 3, 1139, b, 31 (after 
explaining the distinguishing 
characterises of eVto-T^uTj) : 
?? /iifv &pa liriffriint} iarlv e|rs O.TTO- 
SeiKTiK:?}. See further ibid, above 
and cf. i. 163, n. 3. It is a 
further meaning of the word 
when in Anal. Post. i. 3, 72, b, 1 8, 
33, 88, a, 36, an eVio-r^uTj avairo- 
SeiKTos is spoken of, and de 
fined as VTr6\7)\l/LS TT}S d/uetrou 
irpoTaa-fus (on which see i. 197, 

4 On the difference between 
opinion and knowledge, see i. 
163, supra. 

5 On the one hand, 5J|a has 
to do, not, like knowledge, with 



we are without any express statement. Moreover, it 
must be by the operation of Reason that man can recall 
at pleasure his former impressions and recognise them 
as his own. 1 To the same source in Reason we must 
refer, lastly, practical wisdom or insight (Qpowrjcris) 
and arfc. These Aristotle distinguishes from know 
ledge in that they both refer to something that can be 
otherwise than it is ; tlie former having for its object 
;in action, the latter a creation. 2 He remarks, however, 
at the same time that they both depend upon right 
knowledge, and he singles out wisdom especially as 
one of the intellectual virtues. 1 5 But that which reveals 
more clearly than anything else the dependence of 
reason upon the lower faculties in Aristotle s doctrine 

the necessary and immutable, 
bat with rb eVSs^tfy.tej oi aAAcos 
eX flv i it is iVoArjvJ/ts T?)S d/xe rrou 
irpOTarrtws Kal JJ/T] avayKaias (Anal. 
Pott. i. 33, 89, a, 2; cf. Mvtapli . 
vii. 15, 1039, b, 31 ; Etli. vi. 3, 
1139, b, 18); the contingent, 
however, can only be known em 
pirically by perception. On the 
other hand, inr6\r]^is, winch in 
reality coincides m meaning- with 
5(<|a (Eth. ibid. ; Top. vi. 11, ]49, 
a, 10; Catey. 7, 8, b, 10; Anal. 
J*ri. ii. 21, fifi, b, 18, 67, b, 12 
sqq. and elsewlure; WAITZ, 
Arist. Org. i. 523), is as 
signed to vovs, and 5oo is 
distinguished (De An. iii. 3, 
428, a. 20) from (pavTavia by the 
remark : 8o?7 eVerou TriffTis 
(OVK eVSe xeTot yap So^ovra ois 



S ov. 

1 See p. 74, n. 1, supra. 

- Etli. vi. 1, 11 K), ;i, 
erret 8e Troir}(ris Kal Trpa^ts e 
avdyicr] T )jv rex 1 1 ! 1 irot^erews 
ov -rrpdfews elrai. Thus 
defined (Eth. vi. 4) e|ts 
Ao yow aXr/Ooiis TTOITJTIKT], 
(ibid, and c. 5, 1140, a, 3, h, 4) 
ets aMjQys fj.ra \6yov TrpaKTiK ij 
irepl ra avQpwiTw ayaGa Kal KOLKO.. 
On the former see further i. 208, 
n. 1, supra ; on the latter <hili. 
vi. 7 sq., c. 11, 1143, a, 8, c 13, 
1143, b, 20, vi. 1152, a, 8 ; Pollt. 
iii. 4, 1277, a, M, b, 25; and on 
voirjff is a,ud IT points i. 183, n. \, supra. 
We shall return to both in discuss 
ing the Ethics. 

3 See preced. n. and Rliut. i. 
9, 13GG, b, 20: <ppJvr)ffis 8 4or\v 
aperr) Siavoias, Kad ^v eS fiovXev- 
ecr6ai fivsavrai Trfpl ayadouv Kal 

Trei#o? Se \6yos rwv Se 6r)piuv 


is his view of the gradual evolution of Knowledge out 
of Perception and Experience. 1 He remarks, also, that 
all thoughts are necessarily accompanied by an inner 
representation or imaginative picture, whose service to 
Thought is similar to that of the drawn figure to the 
mathematician. And for this he finds a reason in the 
inseparable union of insensible Forms with sensible 
Things. 2 This complete interdependence of reason and 
sense, however, only makes all the more palpable the 
gaps which Aristotle s doctrine of Nous leaves between 
the two. 

The same is true also of the practical activity of 
Reason in the sphere of the Will. 3 Even in the lower 
irrational animals Desire springs from sensation, for 
wherever there is sensation there is pleasure and pain, 
and with these comes Desire, which is indeed nothing 
else than the effort after what is pleasant. 4 Sensation 
announces to us in the first place only the existence of 
an object, and towards this we place ourselves by 
the feelings of pleasure and pain in definite attitudes 
of acceptance or refusal. We feel it to be good or bad, 

1 See i. 205, supra. Kara T^TTO^I/* /ecu 6 voScv waavrws, 

- De An. iii. 8 ; see also Kav ^ iroa-bv voy, riOerai Trpb 

ibid. C. 7, 43], a, 14: TT) 5e ofj.jjL irwv iroabv, PoeTS oi% 77 irotrof. 

SiavorjrtKrj fyvxy T<Z (pavrdafj-ara av 5 y (pvais 77 TUV iroaruv, aopiffroy 

olov alcrQ h/u.a.Ta virdpx*i . . . Sib 8e, riOfrai IJLSV Troabv w/noyxeVoi/, 

ov^TTOT votl &vv (pavTaff/uaTos ?] j/oel 5 y irocrbv JLLOVOV. 
I//UXT?. b, 2 : TO. juej/ ovv e^T? rb 3 ScHBADER, Arist. de Volun- 

VOT}TIKOV eV ro7s <pai>Ta<TiJ.a<n z/oe?. tate Doctrina, Brandenb. 1847. 

De Mem. 1, 419, b, 80: eVe: 5e (Oijmn. Progr.} ; WALTER, Die 

, . . j/oetV OVK iffTiv aiev fyy-vTacr- Lehre r. d. prakt. Vernunjt in d. 

/LLaros- ffv^aivei yap rb avrb irdQos fjTiccll. Phil. 1874. 
eV TW vow oirep Kal eV TO) Sia-ypd- 4 De An. ii. 2, 413, b, 23, 3, 

<j>iv eKe ireyap ou0ej/7rpoo xpc<; / ue^ot 414, b, 4; De Somno, 1, 454, b, 

rip rb Troffbv upiff^vov tlvai rb 29; Part. An. ii. 17, 661, a, 6; 

, o/j.cas ypd<pou.ev &piiru4vov cf. p. 22, n. 1, supra. 



and there arises in us in consequence longing or abhor 
rence in a word, a Desire. 1 The ultimate ground of 
this desire lies in the practical good, i.e. in that of 
which the possession or non-possession depends upon 
our own action. The thought of this good sets the 
appetitive part of the soul in motion, 2 which in turn 
through the organs of the body moves the living 
creature. 3 The inner process by which desire arises 

1 De An iii. 7, 431, a. 8: rb 
iev ovv alo-QaveaQai o/noiov rw <pa.vai 
/J.OVQV Kal voe.1v orav Se r/8v /) 
AvTrfjpbv. oiov Kara<pa.ffa v) aTrocfcaffa, 
0KL >r) (pevyeL [cf. Eth. vi. 2, 
1139, a, 21: lart 8 , oirep ev 
Siai/ofa Karafyams Kal aTro<pa(Tis, 
TOI T eV ope |et S. a>|ts Kal (pvyfi.~\ 
Kal eo~n rb ^5eo-0at Kal XvirttaOai 
rb evpye"iv rrj alo~dririKrj jiterroTTjTi 
irpos rb ayaObv v) KaKbv, y roiavra. 
Kal T] <f>vyri 8e Kal ri upe^is rovro 
[v. 1. TO at/To] TJ Kar evepyeiav, 
Kal oix Tepoj/ TO opeKTiKbv Kal 
tyfvKriitbv, ovr" 1 aAAy/Awj/ o^Te ToD 
aj<r07jT IKQV aAAa TO eli ai aAAo. 

- All desire, therefore, pre 
supposes a presentation, although 
the latter must by no means be 
mistaken for desire. DI- An. iii. 
10, 433, a, 9 : Qaii erai Se 7e 8uo 
ravra Kivovvra, y) opeis r) i/ous, et^ 
ns r$]V (pavraatav nQe rj us votlf tv 
riva TroAAa yap irctpa rrjv eiri- 
ffr i jJif]v aKO\ov6oi(Ti rais (pavraffiais 
Kal fv TO?S aAAots ^OLS ov voif]f~is 
ouSe \oytcr/j.6s eanv, aAAa tyavraaia 
UXTTG ev\6yuis ravra Svo cf>a ve- 
rai ra Kivovvra, upefys Kal Sidvoia 
irpaKTtid] . . . Kal 7] (pai rav a Se 
orav KLVJJ, ov Kivei avev op ^fws. 
b, 27 : fi opfKrutov rb f ov, ravrrj 
avrov KtvrjriKov opeKriKov 8e 
OUK avev (pavracrias (pavraffia ft* 
irao-a /} AoyiffriKr} /} atcr0rjTi/C7j 
[See p. 73, n. 2, suj)ra.~] ravrrjs 

/n.v ovv Kal ra aAAa ^irp 
(Cf. c. 11, 434, a, 5.) Phantasy is 
thus (as SCHRADER, p. 8 sq. and 
BKENTANO, Psychol. d. AT. 1GI, 
also remark) the link which con 
nects our thoughts with the de 
sires and impulses which spring 
from them. Of the process, how 
ever, by which thought thus 
passes into desire Aristotle gives 
no further analysis. 

3 7> An. iii. 10, 433. a, 27 : 
ail Kii/e? fj.f\> TO bpKrl)V [us was 
previously proved, 1. 14 sqq ] 
aAAa TOI)T fcrrlv v) TO ayadbv fj TO 
<t>aiv6[J.evov ayadov. ov TTO.V 5e, 
aAAa rb irpaKTOv ayaOov. irpaKr bv 
5 earl TO Iv^e^fifvov Kal aAAa-s 
exeii/. or i jn.ev ovv T] roiavrrj 5vva- 
fjus Kivii rr)S ^VXTJS r) KaXov/ui.fvrj 
upeis, (pavepov . . . eVei 8 Iffrl 
rp a. 6j/ n\v TO KIVOVV, Sevrepov 8 
c? KLVf7, rpirov rb Kivov/j.evov TO 
8e KLVOVV SiTTOi/, r~b IJLZV aKiv-qrov, r~b 
8e KIVOVV Kal Kivov^fvov [cf. i. 389, 
>>it]>r<i~\. <rri Se TO /iei aKivrjrov TJ 
TrpaKrbv ayaBuv, TO 8e KIVOVV Kal 

KLVOV/ULVOV T^ OpfKTlK^V (^KlV^irai 

yap TO opeyo/.i.vov 77 opeyerat, Kal i) 
Zpeis KLvncris r:s effriv [as TEEN- 
DELENBUEG rightly reads] f 
evepyeia) [v. 1. v) eV. TORSTR. 
conjectures ^ evepyeia, but this is 
unnecessary], TO 8e Kivov/uevov TO 
^ wov ^ Se Kive? bpyavu> T] ope^ty, 
^877 TOirro ffw/jiariKov eo~nv. We 



Aristotle represents as a syllogistic conclusion, inas 
much as in each action a given case is brought under a 
general rule. 1 In order properly to understand how 
bodily movements spring from will and desire we must 
recollect that all changes of inner feeling involve a 
corresponding change in the state of the body. 2 This 
is more fully developed in the treatise on the Notion of 
Animals. The process by which will follows upon the 
presentation of the object, is, we are told, a kind ol 
inference. The major premiss is the conception of a 
general end ; the minor premiss is an actual instance 
corning under the general conception ; while the con 
clusion is the action which issues from the subsumption 
of the second under the first. 3 Usually, however, the 

shall recur to this at a later 
point. A good commentary on 
the passage before us is fur 
nished by JJe Mot a An. 6, 700, 
b, 15 sqq., which is probably 
modelled upon it. 

1 Et-h. vi. 5, 1147, a, 25: 7) 
/j.V yap KaOoAov 8o|a T/ 8 ereoa 
Trepl rwv KaO e /catrra I(TTIV, u>v 
a io-9r)(Tis tjbrj Kvpia [Similarly De 
An, i\\. 4. 434, a, 17.] orav 8e fj. a 
yzvr]rai e| avr&v, avdyK-r] rb (rv/u.- 
irepavQev fv9a /j.ev (pdvai rljv tyvx)iv, 
et/ 5e TCU? TTO 1777-1 /ecus irpdrriv vdus. 
oiov, 64 Travrbs y\VKCOS yevecrSai 
5e7, Tovrl 8e y\v>ci>, us tv TL Tiav 
/ca0 fKacrTov, avdyKr] rbv ^vvd^vov 
Kal /Hi] /cwAuoueroj/ a/xa TOVTO Kal 
TrpoiTTfiv. c. 13, 1144, a, 31 : of 
yap ffv\\oyL<T/ji.oi rwv Trpattriav 
apxyv ZXOVTIS eicriv, eVeiS/? rotoVSe 
rb re Aos Kal rb apiarrov. Cf. C. 12, 
1143, b, 3 (see i. 197, n. 4, supra ), 
where a minor premiss i 5 
spoken of in reference to action. 

2 DC An. i. 1, 403, a, 16: eot/ce 

8e Kal ra rrjs ^v^s TrdOt] TTJ.VTO. 
dvai (j.tTa 0-wfj.aros, 9v/, irpa.6Tr)s, 
(pofios, eAeo?, 6dp(Tos, ert x a P a Ka -i 
rb (f)i\f7v re Kal fjufftlv a/j.a yap 
TOVTOIS -rraffx^i ri rb <rS}jj.a. This 
is seen in the fact that according 
to the physical state forcible im 
pressions at one time produce 
ii effect; at another, light im 
pressions produce a deep effect. 
ert 8e rovro /xaAAov (pavep6v /Arjd- 
evbs yap (pofiepov (rv/u./3aivoi>Tos fv 
rols TrdOeai yivovrai ro is rov (pofiov- 
jj-evov [in consecju^nce of physical 
states I . et 5 OUTWS e^ei, SrjAoj 
UTL ra Trddr) \oyoi tvvXn dffiv. 
OMTTZ ol opoi roiovroi oiov rb <>p- 
y eo-0cu Kivria-is ns rov roiOvSl 
(Tu^aros ^ /utpovs v) Swap* us inrb 
ToG5e ei/e/ca roDSe. Cf. Eth. ibid. 
1147, a, 15, and what is said, p. 
75, n. 2, on pleasure and pain as 
events in the aladrjTiK^ fj.ea-6rr]s. 

3 Mot. An. 7, 701, a, 7 : 
8e vouv ore /xej/ irpdrrei, ore S ov 
Trpdrret, Kal /aj/e?Tcu, ore 5 ov 



syllogism assumes a simpler form, by the omission of 
the obvious minor premiss ; l while, on the other hand, 
the usurpation of the place of the major premiss by the 
demands of desire, in cases when we act without con 
sideration, constitutes rashness. 2 The power of the 
will, however, to move the organs of our body is here 
explained as an effect of the heat and cold, which are 
caused by the feelings of pleasure and pain ; these in 
turn, by the expansion or contraction of particular parts, 
produce certain changes and movements in the body. 3 

automata, owing to the mechan 
ical adjustment of the cylinders, 
are set in motion by a slight 
touch, so with living beings, in 
whom the bones take the place 
of wood and iron, the sinews 
that of the cylinders (cf . also the 
passage quoted p. 53, n. 2, from 
Gen. An. ii. 5). The impulse, 
however, in their case is given 
av|a*/o / ueVa>i rwv /nopiwv 8<a depuo- 
rt]ra Kal irdXiv tn^TeAAoyUeVaji/ $ia 
\l/viv Kal aAAojou/ieVcoy. aAAotoCo-i 
8 al aicrO^creis Kal at (pavraffiai Kal 
at evvoiai. al yap aiV07jcreis 
ev8vs vwdpxov(nv a,\\oiu><reis nves 
ovtrai, r\ 5e (pa.vra(T:a Kal r) i/oTjcns- 
Tyv roov TTpayfj.drccv e^owi Svva/u.ii 
rpoirov yap Tiva rb eJSos rb voov- 
/j.evov rb rov Oep/nov rj \bvxpov y) rjSebs 
7} (frofispov roiovrov rvyx^ve i ~ov dl6v 
irep Kal T&V Trpay^drav fKaffTOf, 
Sib Kal (ppiTTOvcri ical fyofiovvrai 
vo ^aavrfs /uovov. ravra 5e iravra 
7ra9rj Kal aAAoi&jfreiy e/cnV. aAAot- 
ovfjLfvwv 8 eV T(f cra/uan ra /xej/ 
/uei^aj ra 8 eAarrco yiverai. OTL 
Se /j.iKpa yU.erajSoA J; yej/o^tcVr; ei/ 
apxp fJ.eyd\as Kal TroAAas Trote? 
diafyopas anodes, OVK ar)Xov ; a 
slight movement of the helm 
produces a great effect upon the 
bow of a ship, so a small change 


fiaivflV K3.1 TTfpl T&v aKlvf]TWV 

Sizvoov/uievois Kal (Tv\\oyio/LifvoLS. 
aAA eK6? juei/ 6e(t>pr)/*a rb reAos 
. . . fvravQa 8 e/c r&v Suo irpo- 
rdcrecov rb (Tv/j.TTfpacrfj.a yiverai 7] 
a^is, olov orav v6ir)<Tr) on iravrl 
avdpwTTw, avrbs 8 avOpoa- 
iros, /aiei evOews. After illus 
trating this by further examples, 
Aristotle proceeds, 1. 2, > : ai Se 
irporaffets al iroirjTiKal Sia 8vo e/8coy 
yfvovrat, Sia re rov ayadov Kal Sia 
rov Svvarov [the latter perhaps 
with reference to Etli. iii. 5, 
11 12, b, 24sqq.]. 

1 Ibid. 1. 25 : &<nrfp Se rS>v 
epcarcavrcai ei/tot, OWTCO rr)V ere paj/ 
irpGraaw r?/z/ STJATJV owS rj Sidvoia 
(j)L(rTao~a (TKOTre? ouSeV olov el rb 
/SaSt^eiv ayaObv avdpdoTrca, on avrbs 
avdpcairo ;, OUK eVSiarptjSei. 

2 L. 28 : Sib Kal oo~a p.}] \oyiff- 
d.ufvoi irpdrrou-ev, ra^u irpdrrojULev. 
orav yap i/epyf)o~Ti $) rrj alo~Qriafi 
irpbs rb ov eVe/ca /) rrj Qavracria T) 
rep v$, o5 6pyrai evdvs Troje? 
avr epcar^ffews yap v) i/07](recos 7] 
rr]s 6pe |ecoy yivsrai eVe p-yeta. 
noriov /AOI, r] eVi^u/ita \eyei. roSl 
Se Trorbv 77 at(r6r](Tis e^Trev v) rj 

r) o vovs. tvBvs Trivet,. 

3 Ibid. 701, b, 1 : Just as 



Under Will also Aristotle who, like Plato, does not 
regard Emotion as a peculiar form of activity classes 
all that we should rather place under the Jatter head. 
Love, for example, he refers to Ov^os, by which he 
understands, not only spirit, but also heart. 1 

As Aristotle proceeds, however, Desire is found to 
bear a different character according as it springs from 
rational representation or not. Granted that it is 
always the desirable that causes desire in us, yet the 
desirable may be either a real or merely an apparent 
good, 2 and so the desire itself may either spring from 
rational reflection or be irrational. 3 To the latter class 

in the heart causes flushing-, pallor, 
trembling 1 , &c. over the whole 
bod}*. (J. 8 : apxh H*v ovv^ 
wcnrep etynjTaJ, TTJS Kivfjffews TO eV 

T< TCpCLKTb) SilDKTbv Kal <pVKr6v 

lTn vor\(t(.i Kal 

T?7 ({>ai>Tao~ia avTccv 6p/u.6T f)s KOU 
\l/vis. Tb |Uei/ yap Xvin]pbv (pevKTbv, 
Tb S r)8v SiwKTbi , . . . Herri Se ra 
Xvirrjpa Kal f/8e a iravra 
/j.Ta \l/ve(t>s TWOS /ca) 
So with fear, fright, sexual 
pleasure, &c. p.vrifia.1 Se Kal tXirlSes, 
olov eiScoAoiS -xp^jJifvoi TO IS TOIOV- 
TOIS, ore /wev %TTOV ore Se /xaAAoi/ 
aiTiai TWV avTajv eifflv. And since 
the inward parts from which the 
motion of the limbs proceeds 
are so arranged that these changes 
take place very easily in them, 
the motions follow our thoughts 
instantaneously. TO. yap opya- 
viKa/j.(pr] [accusative] irapaa-Kevdfri 
eVmjSefcw TO. ird.6r), y 5 upeis TO. 
7ra0rj, T-TJV 8 upe^iv T] (pavTacria 
auTTj 8e yifTai /} 5ia vor]ffws ^ Si 
ai(T6i t crectiS. aua Se Kal ra%u Sta T& 
irom]TiKbv Kal ira.Qt]TiKbv T&V irpbs 
elvat T 

1 Polit. vii. 7, 1327, b, 40: 6 

0V/jl.6s fffTIV 6 TTOLWV TJ) fylXflTLK&V 

auTT) yap tffnv 7] TTJS tyvxris Suva/xts 
rj fyiXovfjisv. (TTj/icToi Se irpbs yap 
TOVS ffvvj)6eis Kal (piXovs 6 
a^perat yunAAov, -^ Trpbs TOVS ayv&Tas, 
bXiyupti<j6a.i vo/j.i<ras. Cf . foil pages. 

- De An. iii. 10; see i. 109, n. 
3, supra. 

3 De An. iii. 10, 438, a, 9 (see 
i. 109, n. 2, sup. ) ; 1. 22 : vvv Se 6 ^v 
vovs ov (paiveTai KIV&V avfv ope ecos 
r) yap fiov\r]o~is opens OTO.V 5e 
Kara T})V Xoyicrijibv KivrjTai, Kal Kara 
fiovXyffiv /ciJ/?Tai. r; 5 upe^is Kivtl 
jrapa Tbv Xoyi<TfJ.6v. ?? yap tiri6vfJU9 
ijpf^is TIS ecrrtV. vovs /j,ev ovv iras 
op66s ope^LS 5e Kal (pavTacr ia Kal 
dpd^j Kal OUK bpQi). b, 5 : eTtel 5 
opf^eis yivovTai evavTtai aAA^Aats, 
TOVTO Se (rv/jL/Saivei OTO.V o X6yos 
Kal f) Ti.6v/j. ( a evavTiai &ffi, 
8 eV Tfns xpovov cuaQrjffiv 
(6 /J.ev yap vovs Sia T& /j.e\Xov 
aj/de\Ki.v KfXfVfi, i] 8 fTriQvuia Sm 
Tb ^87}) . . . efSei /u.ev ev kv e ir] Tb 

KLVOVV, Tb Ope/CTiKbl/, f) 6peKTlKbl>, 

. . . apid/j.w 5e TrAejco TO. KLVOVVTO. 
Ithet. i. 11, 1370, a, 18: rwv Se 



belong anger and the appetite for sensual gratification. 1 
In so far as reason goes to constitute the conception of I 
the end and reacts upon the desire it is called Practical J 
or Deliberative Eeason. 2 Desire which is guided byj 

eiriOv/j.icav at fjCtv a\oyoi elffiv a! Se 
fj.fTa \6yov. Sensual desires are 
ttAoyot, yu.e7 a \6yov 5e ocra e /c rov 
TTfiaO^vai iriQv/j.ov(riv. Polit. iii. 
4, 1277, a, (5 : ^ U X^ * K ^oyov ical 
opeeo>s. Ibid. vii. 15, 1334, b, 
18 : TTJS ^IT^TJS opca/jifv Svo /*(p7], rb 
re a\oyov Kal TO \6yov %x ov > Ka ^ 
ras e|eis TOLS TOVTCDV Svo TOJ/ apiO- 
/J.QV, uij/ rb JJLCV tffTiv upe|is TO 5e 
vovs. Cf. foil. note. 

1 Following Plato, Aristotle 
often opposes these two forms of 
pe|is a\oyos to one another; 
liliet.i. 10 (seep. 114, n. 3, infra). 
JJe An. ii. 3, 414, b, 2 : ope^is IJLSV 
yap fTTLBv/ata Kal dv/ Kal fiov\r](ns 
ridv/j-ia is then defined as ope|:s 
TOU ^Se os) ; iii. 9, 432, b, 5 : ej/ re 
TO? XoyiffTiKy yap f) pov\ir](ns 
yiverai, Kal eV T a\6y(p fj iridv/j.ia 
Kal 6 eu/j.6s. Etli. iii. 4, 1111, b, 10 : 
while Trpoaipfo-is is neither tiriQv- 
/j.ia nor 6v/jubs, since both the latter 
belong also to irrational beings, 
but the former does not. Polit. vii. 
15 (see p. 114,n. 3, infra), cf. Mat. 
An. 6, 700, b, 22, o. 7, 701, a, 32 ; 
Eth. End. ii. 7, 1223, a, 20 ; J/. 
MOT. i. 12, 1187, b, 36. In the 
Topics (ii. 7, 113, a, 35 sq., iv. 5, 
126, a, 8, v. 1, 129, a, 10) the 
Platonic division of the Aoyur- 
IKOV, 6v/j.oei?)s and eVifli^TjTt/cbi/ is 
employed as one which is gener 
ally recognised, and Etli. vii. 7, 
1149, a, 24 follows Plato in the 
remark (Ph. d. Gr. i. 714) that it is 
Less disgraceful to be unable to 
rule Qvfjibs than the desires : eoi/ce 
yap o 6v/ O.KOVGIV /ueV Tt TOU 
i [\o7ou, irapaKoveti/ 5e ; it yields to 


the first impulse to rifj.upia given 
by the reason without awaiting 
its fuller commands : -jn9vfj.ia, on 
the other hand, makes for plea 
sure the moment that \d,yos or 
a io-6r)(ns declares anything to be 
pleasant. Neverthe ess in the 
stricter psychological discussion, 
De An. iii. 9, 432, a, 18 sqq., 
Aristotle rejects the view that the 
\oyi<mKov, OvfjiiK^v and eiri9v/j.Ti- 
Ti/cbi/ are the three parts of the soul 
which produce motions, partly 
because the distinction between 
them is less than, e.g., that 
between the QP^TTTLKOV and atVflrj- 
Ti/coi/, and partly because the 
opeKTiK^v cannot thus be divided 
and the soul made to consist of 
three separate parts. Aristotle 
gives no more accurate definition 
of 6v/j.6s ; even P. Meyer s minute 
discussion of the passages that 
bear upon it ( O 6v/ ap. Arist. 
Platonemque, Bonn, 1876) arrives 
at conclusions as unsatisfactory 
as the shorter one by Walter, 
ibid. 199 sqq. on the customary 
meaning of the word. According 
to this, it indicates as a rule 
the passions which prompt to the 
avoidance or retaliation of in 
juries. Nevertheless the tenderer 
emotions are also assigned to it ; 
cf. p. 112, n. 1. 

2 De AH. iii. 10, 433, a, 14 : 
vovs Se [sc. KiVTjTt/cbj/j o eVe/ca TOV 
A o-y i 0,116 i/os Kal 6 irpaKTiKos Sta- 

(pfpGl 6 TOl) 6^Ci}pfjTlKOV TO} T\l. 

Kal r] opf^is eVe/ca rov 7rao"a ou yap 
r) ope|<s, avr-r] apxy rov irpaKTiKov 
vov TO 5 eo^aTOi/ ap;^ TTJS Trpd- 



reason Aristotle, with Plato, 1 calls Will in the nar 
rower sense of the word, 2 appropriating the name Desire 
to its irrational exercise. 3 The latter stands in a two 
fold relation to reason. On the one hand, it is 
intended to submit to it, and by this obedience to 
obtain a share in it. On the other hand, being in its 
own nature irrational it resists the demands of reason, 
and often overpowers them. 4 Between these two kinds 
of impulse stands man with his Free Will ; for that we 
ai- it see ch. xii. part 2, infra. 

ecos. &ffrf ev\yws ravra uo <ai- 
verai TO. Kivovvra, ope^is Kal Sidvoia 
See further, p. 109, n. 5, 
1139, a, 6 : u7roKei<r0a> 8vo TO, \6yov 
tyovta., tv yue?/ & flewpoD/Aey ra 
roiavra rwv ZVTWV, offwv at 


va irpbs yap ra r<a 
erepa Kal rwv TT/S ij/ux^s 
erepoj/ r< ytvei rb irpbs 
endrepov ireQvKOS . . . \ey(r9a> 8e 
rovrwv rb juei/ tTrtorTTj/xofi/cbi/ rb 5e 
XoyiariKov. r~b yap j8oi>Aev e<r0ai Kal 
Koyi^ffQai ravrbv, ov6ds 
Aeuerai irepl ruv 


1 Sidvoia Kal vj 

,uT?8e TroiTjTi/crjs rb 

. T<xAi?0es eo-ri Kal if 

rovro yap effn navrbs 
eoyov, rov Se -npaKriKOv KCU 


rrj 6peei rrj op0. L. 35j Sidvoia 
8 CUT?? ovOev Kive i, aAA rj eVe/ca rov 
Kal irpaKTiK-i]. Ibid. c. 12, 1143, b, 
1 ; see p. 197, n. 4, supra. Polit. vii. 
14, 1333, a, 24 : Snfprjrat re Sixf? 
[rb \6yov exo^l, Ka9 ov Trep eta>- 

1 Ph.d. Gr. i. p. 505. 

2 Practical reason itself must 
not be mistaken for will, which, 
to Aristotle, is essentially a desire : 
the former is merely thought in 
relation to action. 

3 De An. iii. 10, 433, a, 22 
sqq. (see p. 112, n. 3, supra), and c. 
11, 434, a, 12 (see foil, n.), where 
jSouATjfrts is opposed to o pe|iy, 
Rlwt. i. 10, 1369, a, 2: <Vr^S T) 
uei> jSowATjcrts ayadov t>peis (ou0ets ; 
yap BovXerai aAA ?) orav olif]0ij 
elrai ayadbv~) a\oyoi 8 ope|ets bpy^ 
K al eV^i a. Eth. v. 11, U36, b, : 
7 : ovre yap /SouAerai oi0eis & ]U^| | 
oterai elvai o"7rou8aror, o TC- aKparr]S 
oi/x ^ ot erai SeTi/ Trpdrreiv irpdrrei. 
See further, p. 113, n. 1. ^Cf. 
PLATO S statements, PA. <Z. ^r.i. p. 
505, and p. 719, 3. At other times i 
the word has a wider meaning, as ) 
Polit. vii. 15, 1334, b, 22 (6v^bs yap 

is IT i 8e liriBvpla Kal yevo- 

In J^7*. iii. 6, both meanings i 
are concerned, where to the ques- ( 
tion whether ^SouATjcrts has refer 
ence to the good or to the ap- 

0auev TpoTroj/ Staipeti/- 6 ^ 7p parently good, the reply is given 

V paKTiK6siffTih6yos6tetepnruc6s. that per se, and in a virtuous 

Cf . p. 106, n. 2, sup. For a closer man, it is to the former alone ; in 

view of the practical reason and a bad man, to the latter, 

the activity which proceeds from 4 Eth. i. 13, 1102, b, 13 : we 



are the authors of our own actions, and that it lies in 
our own power to be good or bad, 1 is Aristotle s firm 

must distinguish in the soul a 
rational and an irrational part. 
The latter, however, is of two 
kinds. The one of its con 
stituent parts, the nutritive soul, 
has nothing to do with action ; 

8e Kal a\\rj ris (pvo~is TTJS 
aXoyos elvai, /xere^oi O a 
fj.evTot Try Xoyov. Both in the 
temperate and the intemperate 
man, reason operates on the one 
hand ; (paiverai 8 eV avro is Kal 
&AAo TL -rrapa T^V X6yov irefyvKos, 
T Kal aVTiTetvei -ray 
^P KaQdrrep TO. 
rov (rco^aros yu.opta 
els TO. 8eta Trpocupou/ieVcuj/ Kivr)o~ai 
Tovvavriov els TO. apio~Tepa irapa- 
Qeperai, Kal eVl rrjs tyvxW rl 

ia yap at appal run* aKpaTwv 
. . . ital ev rrj i^ux?) vopiartov 
elvai n irapa rbv X6yov, eVai/Tiou/xe- 
vov TOVTW Kal WTifiatvov . . . 
Xoyov SfKalrovro^aiverai jUeTe ^eif, 

e iTro/u.ev irfiQapx^ yovv T<^5 
\6yif) rb rov eyKparovs . . . (paiveraL 
877 /cal rb a\oyov Sirrov. rb /JL\V 
yap fyvTiKbv Koivuvtl \6yov, 

TTCOS, ?; KarrjKoov Gcrrus avrov 
Kal ireiQapxiKov . . . ori 8e 
TTCOS virb Xoyov TO a\oyov, 
Kal r] vovQ^Tt]ffis /cat Traffa ivi 
re Kal TrapaKX-rjcris. el 8e XP$) Ka -l 
rovro fyavai X6yov 
0~raL Kal rb X6yov 
Kvp .ws Kal iv avrqi, TO 8 

a.KOvo~TiK.6v TI. Polit. vii 
14, 1333, a, 10 : Siyp-nrai 8e o~vo 

X6yov KaO aurb, rb 8 OVK e_^et u.\v aurb, Xoycp 8 viraKoveiv Swd- 
\LSVOV. Zte An. iii. 11, 434, a, 12 : 
ei/tore [?j ope|ts] Kal /cti/e? 
tKelvr} TavTi]v, 

wffTTfp fftpatpa [v. 1. -av~\ rf upe^is TT}V 
ope|u/, orav aKpao~ia yevrfTai. (pvo~fi 
8e ael TI avca apxiKUTepa Kal /ai/el", 
cScrre Tpfts (popas ^877 KiveiaQai. 
The various attempts made to 
explain and amend the last 
passage byTRENDELENBURGand 
Psyehol. d. Ar. Ill sq., and the 
Greek commentators (discussed 
in Tren.), it is the more justifiable 
here to omit as the thought ex 
pressed is clear enough. Depart 
ing from previous editions, Zeller 
would now suggest : . . . ore 8 e/ceiVrj 
TavTf]v, $<T7rep TJ avw o~<pa7pa Trjv 
/car co, ore 8 r) opeis . . . yVt]Tai 
[</)u(ret . . . /aye?], &o~Te, &c. Ari 
stotle s doctrine differs from that 
of Plato as presented Ph. d. 6V. i. 
713 sq., only in this, that in place 
of the Platonic Gvphs we have 
here the appetites as a whole. 

1 Eth. iii. 7, 1113, b, 6: e> 
7]jjuv 8e Kal y aper^, opo ius 8e Kal 
i) KaKla. v ols yap e^> lyjuv T~O 
irpaTTfiv, Kal rb /J.T) TrpaTTeiv, Kal 
GV ails rb /j.)], Kal TO vai &Q~T ei rb 
bv e (/) ri/juv eo"Tt, 
) r)/juv errrat 

ov, Kal el rb ^,77 Trparretv 
v e<p TJljfiv, Kal rb Trparreti/ 
alffxpov oj/ e(|) ^?v. et 8 e^) ^jU?!/ 
ra KOKa irpaTTtiv Kal TO. oiVxpa, 
6/j.oius 8e KOJ rb /U.T; Trparreii/, TOWTO 
8 ^i/ rb ayado is Kal Ka.Ko7s 
e</) rifjuv apa rb eiriflKfO i Kal 
elvai . . . 3) TO^S ye vvv 
a/j.<pi(r0r)T r)TOV, Kal T^V 
ov (paTeov apx^v zlvai ouSe yevvi]rriv 
T&V TTpdl-ecav, &o~Trep Kal TSKVUV ; 
d 8e raura [if he is author of his 
own actions] c^aij/erat Kal fj,rj %x 
[j.v ety ctAAas apx&s avayayzlv Trapa 
TOLS e0 r)/MV, &v Kal at 

I 2 


conviction, which he supports by the recognised volun- 
tariness of virtue, 1 and by the moral responsibility 
which is presupposed in legislation and in the judgment 
universally passed in rewards and punishments, praise and 
blame, exhortation and warning. 2 In the case of settled 
moral states, it is true that he believes it to be partly 
otherwise. These in their beginnings, indeed, depend 
upon ourselves ; but when we have once become good 
or bad it is just as little in our power not to be so, as 
when we are sick to be well. 3 In like manner he admits 
that when the will has once acquired a definite bent, the 
external action necessarily follows. 4 But when it is 
said that all desire what seems good to them, and that 
they are not responsible for this seeming, Aristotle 
refuses to admit it, since even the disposition which 
determines our moral judgments is our own creation. 5 
Nor does he regard with more favour the attempt to 
prove from the nature of the disjunctive judgment the 

TIIUV Kal avrh ttf Jjftv Kal litotffia. and the question investigated 

c 5 1112 b 31: eot/ce Sry, a0a- how far and in what cases we 

Tr ep rfpW , Zvepovos &ai a PX >l are irresponsible for ignorance or 

rS>v rpdSetav, and elsewhere. On mental and bodily defects, and 

Aristotle s doctrine of the free- how far, on the other hand, we 

dom of the will, see SCHBADEB, are responsible for them as in 

ibid ; TBENDBLENBUBG, Histor. themselves culpable. 

Beitr. ii. 149 sqq. 3 EtU. iii. 7, 8, 1114, a, 12 

1 Aristotle frequently makes sqq., b, 30, cf. v. 13, 1137, a, 4, 

use of this argument, accusing 17 : particular just and unjust 

the dictum of Socrates and Epi- actions are voluntary and easy, 

charmus, oMels ZK&V TTOV^S ov5 but rb &SI %x ovras ravra ea/ 

&Kuvu.dicap( on which seePh.d.Gr. otfre pdSiov otfr eV avrois. 

i 462, 5, iii. b, 119, 2, cf. 719, 3), 4 Metapli. ix. 5, see i. 385, n. 2, 

of the inconsistency of declaring supra. 

good to be voluntary, evil in- 5 Ibid. Hi. 7, 1114, a, 31 sqq. 

voluntary; Eth. iii. 7, 1113, b, The question how far it is possible 

14 1114 b 12 sqq. consciously to commit a mistake 

2 Mil. ibid. 1113, b, 21, 1114, is more fully discussed in the 

a, 31 , where this is fully discussed JEtMcs. See infra, 



logical impossibility of a contingent result. 1 On the 
contrary, he regards voluntariness as an essential condi 
tion of all action that is the subject of moral judg 
ment ; 2 and if this does not exhaust the conception of 
volition (for Aristotle calls the actions of children and 
even of animals voluntary), 3 at least without volun 
tariness no volition is possible. If ajl that is voluntary 
is not also intentional, yet all that is intentional must 

1 See i. 230, n. 4, supra. It has 
already been there shown that 
Aristotle does not hereby avoid 
all difficulties; but this only 
shows more clearly how impor- 

ask to which of these the ignor 
ance refers : the action being 
involuntary in the highest degree 
when the mistake concerns the 
essential points of its aim and 

tant he regarded it to rescue the object. 

Finally, it makes a differ- 

possibility of voluntary actions. 

2 Etli. iii. 1 init. : rrjs aperfjs 
5); Trepl 7ra07j re Kai irpd^is ovarjs, 
Kal irl j.ev rots Kovaiois eiraivtav 
eirt 5e TO?S 
aKovcriois ffuyyvwfjiris, &c. In c. 
1-3, cf. v. 10, 1135, a, 23 sqq. rb 
and aKovffiov are fully 
"discussed. According to the 
account here given, that is in 
voluntary which is done under 
compulsion or in ignorance. We 
must distinguish, however, in the 
former between physical compul 
sion, which constitutes absolute 
involuntariness, and moral com 
pulsion, which is only relative; in 
the latter,between unconscious ac 
tion (ayvoovvra iroieTz/), which may 
also- be voluntary (as when some 
thing is done in haste or anger), 
and action from ignorance (Si 
a-yvoiav Trpdrreiv). As, further, 
there are many things on which 
an action depends (nearly corre- 
jsponding to the familiar quis, 
mid, iiM, &c., Aristotle mentions : 
ris Kal ri Kal -n-fpl ri /) eV T IVL 
cViore 5e Kal rivt, oiov 
bp-yavy Ka.1 ei/e/ca TIVOS), we must 

ence, according to Aristotle, 
whether an action committed in 
ignorance is matter of regret or 
not ; if the doer does not regret 
it he acquiesces in it, so that 
while it cannot be regarded as 
voluntary, it is not involuntary 
in the sense of being against his 
will (c. 2 init. and///. ; cf. vii. 8, 
1150, a, 21, c. i) init.). On the 
other hand, that is (c. 3 init.) 
tKOvffiov ov )] apx^l *v avra> etSon TO. 
/ca0 e/ca<rTa eV ols r\ irpa^Ls, or 
(1135, a, 23) & av ris ruv e</> avrw 
uvTdiv ei5o)J Kal fj.rj ayvoSiv irpdTTr) 
fj.rir *bv yUTjTe w yu^re ov eVe/ra. Cf. 
llliet. i. 10, 1368, b, 0: eKoVres 5e 
oaa etSores Kal /u-// avay- 
. On tlie other hand, 
deliberation is not a necessary 
condition of volnntariness : on the 
contrary, Aristotle expressly 
denies that passion and emotion 
destroy the voluntariness of an 

3 Etli. iii. 3, 4, 1111, a, 24, b, 
8. Will, however, in the stricter 
sense (see p. 114, n. 3, wvpra}, 
cannot be attributed to either of 



needs be voluntary. 1 It is in his view the intention upon 
which in the first instance the moral quality of an act 
depends. 2 In like manner deliberation is only possible 
with reference to those things which lie within our own 
power, 3 Aristotle, however, has not attempted to indi 
cate more exactly the inner processes by which free 
volition operates, nor to solve all the difficulties which 
surround the doctrine of the Freedom of the Will. The 

1 Hth. iii. 4, 1111, b, 6 : ?j 
Trpoa ! pe(TLs 8)7 zKovaiov IAZV (paiverai, 
ov TavTov 8e, aAA eVl irXtov TO 
Kov(riov TOV ftev yap Kovo~iov /cat 
TrcuSes Kal TaAAa <a KOIVWVC I, 
, ftal ra eai(pvr]S 
, Kara Trpoaipeffiv 
5 ov. 1112, a, 14: fKovffiov /tiej/ 
8)7 (paiverai [/; Trpoafpetm], TO 8 
cKovaiw ov TTO.V TrpoatpeToV. (So 
also Itliet. ibid. : ocra ovv 
eKovres [so. iroiovffiv], ov TTCIJ/TO 
Trpoaipov/j.evoi, etSores aTrarra.) 
Aristotle then further distin 
guishes Trpoalpfffis from eViflu^u a, 
0u,abs, fiov\ri(ris (by which he here 
means wish, rather than mill as it 
is directed towards what is im 
possible and- beyond our power) 
and 8o|a (or, more accurately, 
a certain kind of 8o|a, e.g. 
right opinion upon what is 
right, what is to be feared, &c., 
and generally upon practical 
questions) ; its characteristic 
mark is deliberation (c. 5, 1113, 
a, 2 . /3ov\VToi> Se itai TrpocttptToi 
TO avTu. TrAr)v d(f)ocpi(r/j.vov ijSf] T^> 
rb yap K TT\S @ov\rjs 
Trpoouperov eVriv) ; ac 
cordingly, TO irpoaiperbv is defined 
as /3ov\evTuv opsKrhv T&V <p TJ/UUV, 
and Trpoaipffis as povAevTiKT) ope^LS 
T&V e(p f]/j."iv (ibid. 1. 9 sq.) ; e/c 
TOV &ov\cvo~ao~9cu yap KpivavTes 
iv. The 

same description is repeated Etli. 
vi. 2, 1139, a, 23, cf. v. 10, 1135, 
b, 10 ( 7r/3oeAo / uei Oi ^JL\V \Trpa.TTOiJ.v\ 
ocra Trpo/SouAeucra/zej/ot, aTrpoaipzTa 
5e ocra airpofiovhevTa). On the 
other hand, 6 peis in the narrower 
sense of mere irrational desire is 
said DC An. Hi. 11, 434, a, 12, cf. 
1. o sq., to be without part in TO 

T 700 irpoaipe icrdai TayaOa 7) 
TO. KaKa iroioi Tives f cr^aej/ (ibid. C. 
4, 1112, a, 1). 

:i BouAeuo.u60a 8e irepl TWU e(p 
j]f.uv irpa.KT(icv,ibid. c. 5, 1112, a, 30. 
Aristotle further shows (1112, b, 
11 sqq. vii. 9, 1151, a, 16) that 
deliberation deals, not_with _ tlie 
end, but with the means. We set 
ourselves an end and then ask, 
just as in mathematical analysis, 
what are the conditions under 
which it may be attained ; we 
next inquire what is required to 
create these conditions, and so on 1 
until we arrive by a process Qjf J 
ajialysis at the first condition of * 
the desired result which lies in 
our power. With the knowledge 
of. this condition, deliberation 
ceases ; with the endeA.vojar_io 
realise it, action begins, . Cf. 
TREXDELENBUEG, Histor. Scitr. 
ii. 381 sq. ; WALTER, Lelire v. d. 
prakt. Vcrn. 220 sq. 


credit of first clearly perceiving these points belongs 
to the Stoics, while it has been left to modern philosophy 
fully to appreciate their force. 

Before going on, however, to examine from the point 
of view of the Aristotelian Ethics the forms of activity 
which proceed from free self-determination, there are 
some anthropological questions which still demand inves 
tigation. These have been already touched upon, but 
only now admit of a complete survey. 

As Aristotle recognises in the collective sphere of 
animate existence a progressive evolution to ever higher 
forms of life, so he regards the life of the human soul from 
the same point of view. Man unites in himself every 
form of life. To the nutritive life he adds the power 
of sensation and motion, and to these again the life 
of reason. Thought rises in him from sensation to 
memory and imagination, and thence to reflexion and 
the highest stage of the pure intuitions of the reason ; 
action, from sensual desires, to rational will. He is 
capable not merely of perception and experience, but 
also of art and science. He raises himself in moral 
action above animal desire just as in the latter he 
transcends the merely vegetable processes of nutrition 
and propagation. Aristotle accordingly sums up his 
whole doctrine of the Soul in a single sentence : the 
Soul is in a certain sense all Actuality, inasmuch as it 
unites in itself the sensual and the spiritual, and thus 
contains the Form of both l a description which applies 
especially, of course, to the soul of man. But just as 
we found it to be a defect in Plato s theory that he was 

1 See vol. i. p. 199, n. 2, supra,. 


unable to find any inner principle of unity in the three 
parts into which he had divided the soul, and that he 
undoubtedly failed to propound this problem with 
scientific accuracy, 1 so we have to regret in Aristotle a 
similar omission. The relation between the sensitive and 
nutritive life might itself have suggested the question 
whether the latter is an evolution from the former, or 
whether they come into existence simultaneously, and 
subsist side by side separate from one another. And 
where, if the latter be the case, are we to look for the con 
nection between them and the unity of animal life ? This 
difficulty, however, is still more pressing in reference to 
Eeason and its relation to the lower faculties of the 
soul. Whether we regard the beginning, progress, or 
end of their union, everywhere we find the same un 
solved dualism ; nowhere do we meet with any satis 
factory answer to the question 2 where we are to look 
for the unifying principle of personality the one power 
which governs while it unites all the other parts of the 
soul. 3 The birth of the soul, speaking generally, 
coincides, according to Aristotle, with that of the body 
whose entelechy it is. He not only rejects any 
assumption of pre-existence, but he expressly declares 
that the germ of the life of the soul is contained in the 
male semen and passes with it from the begetter into 
the begotten. 4 But, on the other hand, he i* unable to 

| Ph. d. Gr. i. pp. 717 sq. complete consistency of the Ari- 
- Which Aristotle, however, stotelian doctrine is wholly un 
does not forget to put to Plato ; successful. Detailed criticism 
see p. 23, n. 1, supra. of it may here be omitted with- 
3 BvenScHBLi/s attempt (Die out prejudice to the following 
Einlieit des Seelenlebens aus d. investigation. 
Principien d. arist. Phil, ent- 4 See p. -10, n. 1, p. 6, n. 2, p. 53, 
miclielt. Freib. 1873) to prove the n. 3, and p. 96, n. 1, suvra. 


apply this to the rational part of the soul, since that is 
something wholly different from the principle of life in 
the body. While, therefore, it is held that the germ of 
this also is propagated in the seed, it is yet asserted 1 at 
the same time that it alone enters man from without, 2 
and is not involved in his physical life. 3 But how an 
immaterial principle which has absolutely nothing in 
common with the body and possesses no bodily organ 
can be said to reside in the semen and propagate itself 
through it, is wholly incomprehensible 4 riot to mention 
the fact that not one word is anywhere said of the time 
or manner of its entrance into it. Nor can this 
difficulty be met by the assumption that the Spirit 
proceeds direct from God, 5 whether we regard its origin 
as an event necessarily following the operation of 
natural laws, or as in each case the effect of a creative 
act of the Divine Will. 6 For the former view, which 

1 See p. 90, n. 1,2, x/t- implement it emplc^s, which is 

pra. used to explain the union of soul 

It enters the womb, indeed, and body (p. 3, n. 2, supra}, 

in the seed, but comes to the latter applicable to the reason, which 

OvpaOtv, as is clearly explained in has no such implement. Of. p. 

the passages quoted, p. 96, n, 1, 94, n. 2, and p. ]00, n. 2. 
Gen. An. ii. 3, 73(5, b, 15 sqq. 5 BRANDIS, Gr.-Hom. Pldl. ii. 

:t XwpiaTbs (Gen. An. ii. 3, b. 1178. 

737, a, 9 ; Be, An. iii. 5 ; see p. 90, n. (i The latl er view, that of the 

l,andp. 98, n.l,stf/;.), which here, so-called creationists, was not 

as perhaps also in Plato s account only generally assumed by medi- 

of the Ideas, means not merely ajval Aristotelians as undoubtedly 

separable but actually separate, Aristotle s, but is accepted by 

the equivalent phrase ovQev yap BRENTANO, Psychol. d. Ar. 195 

O.VTOV Ty fvepyeia Koivvvel (ro^ari/a? sqq , whom FERTLING, Mat. und 

evtpyeia being used for it, 739, a, Form, 170 (more cautiously also 

28. L. SCHNEIDER. UmterUicMeits- 

4 We cannot conceive of an Wire d. Arist. 54 sq.), is inclined 

immaterial being occupying a to follow. According to BEEN., 

position in space, nor is the rela- the spiritual part is created out 

tion of the active force to the of nothing by the immediate act 


coincides more or less with the doctrine of Emanation, 
there is not only no support whatsoever in Aristotle s 
system, but it is wholly irreconcilable with his view of 
the unchangeable and transcendent nature of God. 1 
The assumption, on the other hand, of the creation of 
the human spirit by the Deity conflicts with Aristotle s 
express and emphatic statement 2 that God does riot 
interfere actively in the world by an exercise of will. 3 
Aristotle says, moreover, as distinctly as possible, that 
the spirit is exempt from birth no less than from death, 
thus attributing to it pre-existence, 4 though in a certain 
impersonal sense. It was impossible, accordingly, that 
the question how and by whom it was produced at the 
birth of the body should have even been raised by him. 
Even upon the only question that could arise the 
question regarding the causes which determine the 
spirit s union with a human body, and with this 
particular body in each particular case, and regarding 
the way in which this union takes place Aristotle s 
writings contain not a single word ; whether it be that 
this question never suggested itself to him, or that he 

of God, and at the same time the to be an effluence from the asther, 

character of a human body is the Qeiov ffw^a. 

given to the material part (p. 2 On which see i. 399 sq. 

199); the reason is produced by 3 As is rightly remarked also 

God from nothing at the moment by BIEHL ( Uftb. d. Bcgriff vovs 

at which the fo3tus in its na- b. Arist. Linz, 1864 ; Gymn 

tural development reaches thelast Progr. p. 9). 

stage (which, according to n. 2, 4 Cf. the passages quoted, p. 

preceding page, must be at apoint 96, n. J, and p. 101, n. 2, slip. The 

of time previous at any rate to the obvious meaning of these pas- 

procreative act); see also p. 203. sages cannot justly be set aside 

1 Cf. alsoi. 413 sqq. Still less upon the general grounds advo- 

of course can we, with GROTE cated by BBENTANO, p. 196 sq., 

(Arist. ii. 220, 230), regard which find no support either in 

the absolutely immaterial spirit the psychology of Aristotle or in 


regarded it as insoluble and preferred to leave it alone. 1 
Nor is he more explicit with regard to the question of 
the origin of the Passive Reason/ whose existence is 
said to begin and end with that of the body. 2 Although 
we should naturally assume that he regards it as the 
outcome of the union of the active spirit with the 
faculty of reproductive imagination, yet he gives us no 
hint to help us to form a definite conception of its 
origin. 3 

If we farther examine the union in man of different 
faculties, we find it difficult to understand how in one 
being two parts can be united, of which the one is 
exposed to passive states, the other incapable of pas 
sivity ; the former bound up with the body, the latter 
without a physical organ. Does Reason, we may ask, 
participate in the physical life and the mutation of the 
lower faculties, or do the latter participate in the im 
mutability and impassiveiiess of Reason ? We might 
find support for both assumptions in Aristotle s writ 
ings, yet each in turn, can be shown to be inconsistent 
with the presuppositions of his philosophy. On the 

any rightly interpreted statement d. mensclil. Secle nacli Arist. 

to be found in his texts. Halle, 1873, p. 46 sq.) supposes 

1 The words, Gen An. ii. 3, the passive reason to be a radia- 
730, b, 5, to which BKENTANO, tion of the active on its entry 
105, calls attention, point rather into the body. This assumption, 
to this : Sib Kal irepl vov, irore KOL\ however, finds no support in any 
TTWS fji.eTa\a[j.f3dvei Kal Trodev ra statement of Aristotle or in his 
luLrfx oVTa TCXUTTJS T?}s apxfjs, 6^ei system as a whole. According 1 
T airopiav Tr\i<rTr)v Kal Set tvpo- to Aristotelian principles, the 
Ov/m.f iffQai Kara 8vva/j.iv AajSetV reason, like all immaterial and 
Kal KaOoo-ov ei/Se^erou. unmoved being, can promote 

2 Of. p. 98, n. 2. the development of other things 

3 SCHLOTTMANN (Das VeT- by solicitation, but cannot de- 
gangliclie und Unvergangliclie in velop anything else from itself. 



jj.V ev if eo Tt, rovro 

VTTO TT)S ^U^TJS a\\<a 

re KivelaQai Kara TOTTQV avrr t v. It 

might, indeed, appear that it 

moves itself. (pa/afv yap r^v 

one hand, in his account of Passive Reason 1 the 
qualities of the perishable parts of the soul are trans 
ferred to Reason ; while, on the other hand, just as 
immaterial Form in general or the motive power as 
such is said to be itself unmoved, 2 so Aristotle denies 
movement and change not only to Reason, but also to 
the Soul in general. 3 The conception of the Passive 
Reason, in fact, concentrates in itself all the contradic 
tions we are at present considering. 4 The motionless- 

1 See p. 96 sqq. svpra. 

2 See the passage already 
quoted, p 5, from De An. i. 
3, 4. Aristotle opens the dis 
cussion at the beginning of c. 3 
with the explanation that not 
only is it not true to say that the 
soul can, from its nature, be an 
eavrb KLVOVV, dAA ev n rwv aSv- 
vdrwv rb VTrdpxeiv avrri Kivrjffiv. 
Of the arguments by which this 
is proved, the first (400, a, 12) 
is to Aristotle completely con 
vincing : recradpoov 5e Kivr t o~eocv 
UIHTWV, (fiopas, dAAoiaVeoJS, <p6!o~&s, 
av^aecas, rj fiiav rovrcav Kivolr av 
/) TT\LOVS 3) Trdaas. ei 5e Kivtirai 
fj.}] Kara (rv/jL^eftriK^s, (pvffei &r 
V7rdpx oi Kivriffis avrri. el 5e rovro 
Kal r OTTOS iraffai yap al Ae^0e?crai 
KLvr,o-eis ev TOTTW. el 5 eo~rlv r) 
ovffia TTJS tyvxys TO Kivelv eavrrjv, 
ov Kara (yv/ji^e^Kbs avrrj TO Kivei- 
aOai inrdpxoi. After proving in 
detail how impossible it is that 
the soul should move, and espe 
cially that it should move in 
space, Aristotle returns, c. 4, 
408, a, 30, once more to the 
original question and declares 
that it is impossible that the 
soul should be self -moving ; it 
can move and be moved" only 
Kara 0-vu.BeBinKbs, oiov Kivelo~Qai 


en Se bpyieo-0ai re Kal 
Kal Siavoe LcrQai ravra 
8e iravra Kiv t]o~eis elvai SOKOVO-IV. 
odev olf]9eiri ris av avTT)v KivelaQai 
TO 6 OVK eariv avayKalov . . . 

Xtyeiv rriv 
$) Sia- 
avQpwTrov TTJ 
s ev 
dAA ore 

yap fcroos 

voriordai, aAAa rov 
$vx]l- roiro 5e /J.TJ 
TTJS Kivr)(Tf(as ovo"ns, 
pexpi fKelvys, ore 
oiov f) /aev aio~6ri(ris air^ rwvSl [it is 
a motion which proceeds from 
the senses to the soul], rj 5 
avdjjivriffis a?r eKeiVrjs eVl ras ei/ 
rols alffdrjr npiois icii/r^eis /) /J,ovds. 
Pltys. vii. 3, 246, b, 24, shows 
with reference to the higher 
faculties that neither virtue and 
^ ice on the one hand, nor thought 
on the other, can be said to be 
an a\\oiw(ris of the soul, al 
though they are produced by an 
dAAoia-o-ts Cf. p. 94, n. 2. 

3 Cf. i. 386, n. 1, and i. 359, 
n. 1, supra. 

4 See p. 103 sq. supra. 


ness of the lower faculties of the soul is contradicted 
among other things l by what has just been said about 
the characteristic difference between them and Reason. 
For how can they be susceptible of impression when 
they are wholly excluded from movement and change, 
seeing that every impression involves a change ? 2 

Where, finally, are we to look in this union of hetero 
geneous parts for that centre of equilibrium of the soul s 
life, which we call Personality? It cannot reside, it 
would seem, in Reason, for this is the pprmanent uni 
versal element in man which is unaffected by the 
changing conditions of individual life ; it is not born, 
and it does not die ; it is free from all suffering and 
change; it is subject to no failure or error; neither 
love nor hate nor memory nor even intellectual activity 3 
belongs to it, but only to the man in whom it resides. 4 
Neither can Personality lie in the lower faculties of the 
soul. For, on the one hand, Aristotle, as we have just 
seen, combats the view that these are subject to motion, 
and finds the proper subject of the changing states of 
feeling and even of intelligent thought, not in the soul 
itself, but in the union of both soul and body in man. 
On the other hand, he asserts that the essence of each 

1 As, for instance, the passage p. 99, n. 3, and p. 124, n. 2, 
quoted, p. 109, n. 5, according to supra, cf. De An. iii. 10, 433, 
which, in desire, the appetitive a, 26 : vovs olv iras 6p06s, but 
part of the soul is both mover especially De An. i. 4, 408, b, 24: 
and moved, the Cv ol/ * s on ty Kc " T ^ VOGIV Sri fal rb 0eo>pe/ /j.a- 
moved ; and the description of paiverai &\\ov nv^s e<ro> fyQeipo- 
sensation, p. 58, n. 4. /J.EVOV, avrb 5e a-rrades effTiv (see p. 

2 See i. 454, n. 2, 3. 96, n. 2, supra), ri 5e Siayoetotfai 

3 Atdvoia in the sense of dis- /cat $iAe?i/ y) ytua eTi/ OVK tffTiv e/cei- 
cursive thought as explained, p. vov irdBi], a\\a rovSl TOV e^oi/ros 
106, n. 2. e/ceTvo, 77 e/ceTj/o ex el - ^ Ka TOVTOV 

4 Besides the passages quoted, ^Qeipo^vov otfre juv^oi/euet cure 



individual is his reason, 1 by which he understands, not 
thought alone, but every kind of intellectual appre 
hension. 2 And if he refuses to acknowledge the soul as 
the subject of emotion, he is not likely to find it in the 
body. 3 The most serious difficulty, however, arises in 
connection with his theory of the Will. Will cannot 
belong to Reason as such, for Reason taken in itself is 
not practical but theoretical. Even practical thought 
is sometimes regarded by Aristotle as a function of a 
different faculty from theoretic. 4 Movement and action, 
in fact, come from desire, which in turn is excited by 
imagination. 5 Desire, again, can cause movement, but 
not rational movement, 6 for it belongs to animals as well 

<pi\*1 ov yap fKfii/ov ^v, aAAa TOV 
KOIVOV, & cbroAcoAei . 

1 Mh.x. 7, 1178, a, 2: 8o e 
8 tiv Kal elvai ficaffros TOVTO [i.e. 
foCy] eftre/j rb Kvpiov Kal au.fivoi/. 
ix. 4, 1166, a, 16, 22: TOV Sia- 


5o/ce? . . . 8o |ete 8 av rb voovv 
fKaffros e?i/cu -/) jUaAftrra. c. 8, 
1168, b, 28: the good man might 
be said to be pre-eminently <piA- 
avros, seeing that love of the 
most essential (Kvpiurarov^) part 
of himself predominates in all 
he does. wa-nep 8e Kal ird\is TO 
KvptdoTaTov /uaAicTT tivai So/eel Kcd 
irav ^AAo (Tvo T rjfJ.a, OVTCO Kal avdpw- 
TTOS . . . Kal iyKparfys 8e Kal 
aKparfys Ae^erat ro3 Kpar^v Tbv 
vovv v) (A)], ws TOVTOV e/cacrrou ti^ros 
Kal ireirpaytvai SOKOVCTIV avrol Kal 
fKovffitos TO. yuera \6yov yuaAt<rra. 

2 See p. 93, n. 5, supra. 

3 Eth. x. 2, 1173, b, 10: if 
pleasure is an avairX^puffts, the 
body must be that which feels 
pleasure, but this is not the case. 

4 Eth. vi. 2; see p. 113, n. 2, 


5 See the passages from Eth. 
vi. 2, 1139, a, 35, already em 
ployed, p. 113 sq. : Sidvoia 5 s 
CUT}; ovOev Kivet, aAA rj eVewa TOV 
Kal TrpaKTiK-f). De An. iii. 10, 433, 
a, 22 : 6 /ULGV vovs ov (paiverai KIVWV 
&MV opt&ws. c. 9, 432, b, 26: 
aAAa fJ.fyv oi/Se T^> XoyiffTiKov Kal 6 
Ka\ov/j.evos vovs effTlv 6 KIV&V b 
/uev -yap Oea pr]TiKos ovQfv j/oel irpaK- 

TCiV, Ou8e \fji TTfpl (pfVKTOV Kal 

SiwKTov ovQtv. TI 8e KiVtjffis /} (pev- 


oAA ouS OTOV decopri TI TOLOVTOV, 
ijSr] /ceAeuet (pevyeiv $) St^/ceii/ . . . 


\eyov(rr]s TTJS Siavoias (pevytiv TI v) 
8tco/C6if ou KivziTai aAAa Kara Trjv 
iviOvfilav irpaTTei, oiov b aKpaTr.s. 
Kal oAws 6pw/j.js OTI 6 
laTpiKriv OVK laTai, ws eTepov TWOS 
Kvpiov OVTOS TOV TroieTj/ Kara T?;I 
aAA ov TTJS 

8 De An. iii. 9 fin., after the 
passage just quoted: oAAa ^V 
ouS T] ope^is TavTvjs Kvpia TTJS Kivf,- 



as man, whereas the Will belongs to man alone. 1 Both 
Reason and Desire must therefore enter into Will as 
constituent parts. 2 But in which of these two the 
essence of the Will or the power of free self-determina 
tion resides, it is hard to say. On the one hand, the 
power of controlling desire is attributed to Reason, which 
is defined as the motive force, or more accurately the 
source from which the resolutions of the will proceed: 3 
jand immorality is treated as a perversity of Reason. 4 
On the other hand, it is asserted that Reason initiates 

o-ecos of yap eyKparels 
Kal iridviJ.ovvTS ov TrpaTTOvffiv w 
]V i>pe|ti/, a\\ a 


1 Cf.p.H4,n.3,andp. 117,n.3. 

2 See p. J 14, n 3. and Etli. 
vi. 2, 1139, a. 33 : Sto our avev 
vov Kal Siavoias OUT avev T/fli/cr/s 
effrlv eews T/ irpoaipcffis. b, 4 : Sio 
T) ope/cri/cos vovs T] vpoa f pfffi* v) 
opeis SiavofiTiKri Kal f? roiavnj 
apxn &ve P wiros. If, in opposition 
to the above view, it be said that 
the will belongs to op(is, which 
is regarded by Aristotle as a 
separate part of the soul (SCHRA- 
DEE, Arlt. de Volunt. Doctr. 12), 
this cannot be admitted. Aristotle 
himself states clearly enough that 
reason is an element of will, but 
reason is essentially different 
from the animal soul to which 
ypets belongs. 

" Aristotle frequently says 
that the command in the soul 
belongs by nature to the reason. 
It is Kvpiov in it (Eth. x._7, ix. 8 ; 
see p 126, n. 1, supra) ; it has no 
superior (De An. i 5, 410, a, 12 : 
TTJS 8e xj/uxfjs elvai n Kpelrrov Kal 
&p%ov, aSvvarov ktvvaT&rcpov S 
f TL rov vov~). Desire, on the other 

hand, must 
(Polit. i. 5 : 

oboy the reason 
o Se vovs 

De An. iii. 9, v. 598, 5 
above : tirirdrrovTos rov vov. EtJt. 
i. 13 : the opeKTiKbv partakes of 
\6yos, p Karr^Koov ivriv avrov Kal 
Treidapx^v, similarly Polit. vii. 
14, v. p. 588 ; \6yos, however, 
resides only in the reason), 
and this obedience it is which 
constitutes the difference be 
tween the eyKpaTTjs and the 
aitpaT-fjs (De An. iii. 9, see p. 12(5, 
n. 6). In JEt/i. iii. 5, 1113, a, 
5 (iravtrai yap e/cafTTOs frr&v irws 
7rpa|ei, orav eis avrbv avaydyp rV 
apx hf [sc. TT)S 7rpa|ea)i- when lie is 
convinced that the action depends 
only on himself] Kal avrov [thi* is 
the partitive genitive] els TO yyov- 
fitvov TOVTO yapTb irpoatpov/j.evoi ), 
we must understand by TO rjyovpe 
vov the reason, not (as WALTER, 
Lehre v. d. prdkt. Vernunft, 222 
sqq. prefers to take it) the har 
monious union of reason and en 
deavour, the man as a whcle, 
which could not be called the 
governing part of the man. 

4 Etli. vii. 7, 1150, a, 1 sqq, c. 
9, 1151, a, 17 sq. 


no movement and is perfect and infallible. 1 But if 
Reason cannot err, it cannot be the seat of the Will, to 
which belong the doing of good and the doing of evil. 
Where Aristotle actually supposes this to reside, it is im 
possible to say. He is clearly drawn in opposite directions 
by opposite considerations between which he is unable to 
take up any decided position. His high conception of 
the nature of the spiritual element in man forbids him 
to implicate Reason in the life of the body, or to 
attribute to it error and immorality ; on the other hand, 
it is to Reason alone that the reins of government in 
the soul can be committed. But the two elements are 
in reality inseparable, and in deducing only what is 
good in our actions from Reason, while limiting to the 
lower faculties of the soul all that is faulty, every act 
which has for its object what is divisible and corporeal, 
all change in act or state, he breaks up human nature 
into two parts between which no living bond of con 
nection can be discovered. 2 Similar difficulties would 

1 Of. on the former head, p. - The difficulty remains even al- 
126, n. 5, on ihe second, De An. iii. though we assume with BRANDTS 
10(p.l25,n. 4), and p. 197,n.4,*M- (iii. a, 105 sq. ii. b, 1042 sq.) that 
pra. Etk.i. 13, 1102, b, 14: rovyzp freedom, according to Aristotle, 
Kal rov d.Kpxrovs rl>v consists in the spirit s faculty of 
TJS ^UXTJS rb \6yov %x ov self-evolution in accordance with 
opdus yap Kal enl ra its own fundamental nature. 
/3e ATiffTa TrapaKaXe i so that in For we may ask to which part of 
incontinence the mistake does the soul this evolution belongs ? 
not lie with the rational part of The active reason cannot cer- 
the soul ; ibid. ix. 8, 1169, a, 17 : tainly evolve itself, for it is un- 
Tras yap vovs alpe irai rb /SeAno-Toi/ changeable; nor can the appetitive 
eauT<, 6 8 eTnetK/ys Tretflapx 6 T< ? aQ d sensitive exhibit free self- 
pcp, where virtue is said to con- evolution, being always deter- 
si st in the subordination of the mined by something else ; only- 
higher portions of the soul to where there is reason do we find 
the reason, which in its turn free activity. Lastly, the Passive 
always chooses the right. Keason, which is the only other 



have arisen in regard to self-consciousness had Aristotle 
gone deeper into this aspect of the question. But just 
his failure to do so or to raise the question in the form 
in which it now presents itself to us, as to what it is 
that constitutes the permanent self amid our changing 
acts and states, 1 shows more clearly than anything else 
how imperfectly he grasped the problem of the unity of 
the..personal life. 

Now, if reason enters man from without, and if its 
union with the other faculties of his soul, and with the 

alternative, is open to the same 
charge of indefiniteness and 
contradiction ; we cannot find 
any definite place for it between 
reason and sense. The above defi 
nition of freedom is more like Leib 
nitz s than Aristotle s. Here also, 
as in the case already discussed 
i. 413, supra, sq., BRANDIS seems 
to find too close a resem 
blance between Aristotelian and 
modern German doctrines. The 
argument upon which he chiefly 
Jelies for the above view is that, 
self-determination has its seat 
in the governing part of our 
nature, and therefore in the 
spirit, and if further the spirit is 
,he essence of a man, we may 
conclude that it must develop 
by free self-determination accord 
ing to its original character as 
individual essence. But spirit or 
reason constitutes, according to 
Aristotle, only one side of the 
will ; its reference to sense is as 
essential an element. Will is not 
pure reason, but rational desire. 
And even were it not so, if will 
were exclusively an exercise of 
reason, we could only conclude 
that it is as incapable of evolu- 


tion as of error, for according to 
Aristotle s expressed opinion 
change and evolution are con 
fined to the sphere of sensation 
or even more strictly to the body. 
It is difficult, therefore, to say 
nhat Aristotle regarded as the 
seat of the freedom of the will. 

1 He remarks, indeed, that we 
are conscious of every form of 
our activity as such, and there 
fore of our own existence. Etk. 
ix. 9, 1070, a, 29 : 6 5 6pwv on 
6pa alaQdvfTai ical 6 ci/coiW on 
aKOVfi KOL 6 paSifav on a5/et, teal 

fTTL T(aV &\\(t)V 6/LLOlWS CffTl T I Tl) 

i^vov on fvepyov/nev, SXTTC 
/j,6 av on ai(T0az><fyie#a /cat 
on voov/j.v. TO 5 on 
al<r6av6/j.eGa 7) voov^v, on etr/ueV 
rb -yap f lvai 3\v ao-0aye<r0cu ^) p<mz/) ; 
This consciousness, however, he 
regard s as im mediately given with 
the activity in question. In per 
ception it has its seat in the 
nf.ttsus ciimmunls (seep. 69, n. 3). 
How the identity of self -con 
sciousness in the different activi 
ties which he refers to different 
parts and faculties of the soul is 
to be explained he does not 



body, continues throughout 1 to be merely an external 
one, we cannot but expect that a union which begins 
in time will also end in time. 1 Upon this point, Ari 
stotle holds with Plato that there is a mortal and also 
an immortal part in the soul. These unite together 
at the beginning of the earthly life, and separate from 
one another again at its close. In the further develop 
ment, moreover, of this thought he at first closely 
followed Plato. In his earlier writings he enunciated 
the Platonic doctrines of the pre-existence of the soul, 
its incarceration in the body, and its return at death to 
a higher existence, 2 He therefore assumed the con 
tinued personality and self-conscious existence of the 
individual after death, although he failed, like Plato, 
fully to investigate the question how far this doctrine 
was consistent with the presuppositions of the Platonic 
philosophy. 3 With the independent development of 
his own system, however, he was necessarily led to 
question these assumptions. As he came to conceive 
of body and soul as essentially united, and to define 
the soul as the entelechy of the body, and as, further, he 
became convinced that every soul requires its own 
proper organ, and must remain wholly inoperative 
without it, he was necessarily led, not only to regard the 
pilgrimage of the soul in the other world as a myth, 
but also to question the doctrines of pre-existence and 
immortality as they were held by Plato. 4 Inasmuch as 

1 Aristotle s doctrine of im- 2 The references on this sub- 
mortality is discussed by ject have already been given. 
SCHEADEE, JaJir b.f. PMlologie, Cf. BEEN AYS, Dial. d. Arist. 
vol. 81 and 82 (1860), H. 2, p. 21 sqq. 143 sqq. 
89-104 ; Leonh. SCHNEIDEE, 3 On which cf. Ph. d. Gr. i. 
UnsterUlclikeitslehre d. Arislot. 717 sq. 
(Passau, 1867), p. 100 sqq. 4 Cf. p. 10, supra. 


the soul is dependent upon the body for its existence 
and activity, it must come into existence and perish 
with it. Only incorporeal spirit can precede and outlast 
the bodily life. But this, according to Aristotle, is to 
be found only in the reason and in that part of it 
which is without taint of the lower activities of the 
soul namely, the Active Nous. Neither the sensitive 
nor the nutritive life can exist without the body. 
These come into existence in and with it, and can no 
more be conceived of apart from it than walking apart 
from feet. 1 Even Passive Eeason is transitory, like 
everything else which is subject to impression and 
change. The Active Reason alone is eternal and im 
perishable ; it alone is not only separable, but in its 
very nature absolutely separated from the body. 2 But 
what now is the active reason which thus alone outlives 
deatli ? It is the universal as distinguished from the 
individual element in man. All personal forms of 
activity, on the other hand, are referred either to the 
lower faculties of the soul, or to the whole, which is 
made up of soul and body, and which at death ceases 
to be. If we think of reason as separate from the 
body, we must exclude from it love and hate, memory 
and intelligent thought; 3 likewise, of course, all 

See p. 6, n. 1, and p. 96, n. 1, 6 vovs xa.aa.v yhp tefoarov 1 ffo >s 

See on this point the 

bee p. 98, n. 1, supra, passages cited on pp. 125, n. 4 and 
ii. 3, 1070, a, 24: 101, n. 3, De An. i. 4, 408, a 24 

r u wTepov n fcroptoi sqq. iii. 5, 430, a, 22. In the 

[whether anj thin^r remains after first of these passages Sm^io-flai 

the dissolution of the constituent <t>i\ f iv, p.i ff eiv, fivwovefeiv are ex 

parts of a composite substance] pressly denied of reason and 

Pnroy m frforTftpoMfeiraiAtfei, the statement that these belong 

oiov i r) $v X r) roiovrov,^ 7r5(ra aAA in any sense to a rational being 



affections, together with the feelings of pleasure and 
pain, all of which belong to the sphere of the sensitive 
life; and since even will depends for existence upon 
the union of Reason with Desire, it also must peiish 
with the lower parts of the soul. 1 Spirit or thought 
Aristotle doubtless conceived of as surviving death, and 
since it realises itself only in the activity of thought, 
this activity also must remain untouched by death, as 
it is held to be proof against old age. 2 But of the way 
in which we are to think of this continuance of thought 
after its separation from the body and the lower faculties 
of the soul Aristotle gives us no hint whatever. Even 
thought is impossible without the aid of pictorial 
imagination, 3 which cannot be said to exist in any 
intelligible sense after the death of the sentient soul. 
And when the body, which the soul as individual pre 
supposes ; 4 when perception, imagination, memory, 
reflexion ; when the feelings of pleasure and pain, the 

is qualified by the addition : Sib perishes at death, no individual 

Kail rovrov QBcipopevov otfre fivri- thought is possible (p. 101, n. 3), it 

povevei oi/re </>tAeT. ov yap fiteivov is obvious that neither can survive 

^j/, a\\a rov KOIVOV, t> airoAwAej/. death. SCHLOTTMANN S explana- 

With regard to the second, it has tion (p. 50 of the work mentioned 

already "been remarked, p. 101, n. p. 123, n. 3, supra}, according to 

2 sun , that the words oujUVTj/iove<5<- which the words ou ^vn/j-ov^vn^v, 

fjL\v 8e refer in the first instance, &c. refer to the continuous activity 

indeed, to the failure to remember of the vovs TronjTi/cbs in the pre- 

the existence out of time of the sent life as an unconscious one, 

Nous anterior to its life in time.but is consistent neither with the 

that what is true of the present connection in which they stand 

life in relation to an anterior one nor with the meaning which is 

must be equally true of the constantly attached to /j.vnnoveveiv 

future life in relation to the pre- in Aristotelian phraseology, 
sent. Since memory (according ] Cf . p. 109, n. 1 , 2, and p. 1 26 

to p. 70 sq.) is an attribute of the sq. 

sensitive soul and depends upon 2 See p. 96, n. 2. gnprti. 

the bodily organs, and since 3 See p. 108, n. 2, supra. 

without the passive reason, which 4 Cf . i. 369 sq., supra. 



emotions, the desires and the will ; when, finally, the 
whole being compounded of the union of soul and 
body has ceased as a whole to be, we are at a loss to 
see where that solitary remnant which he calls spirit 
can still reside, and how we can still speak of any 
personal life at all. 1 And. indeed, Aristotle himself in 
expressly rejecting the idea that the dead can be happy, 
and in comparing their state to the loss of all sense, 2 

1 Even BKENTANO S Psychol. 
d. Arut. 128 sq. fails to find a 
satisfactory answer to this ques 
tion ; while maintaining that the 
soul must remain an individual 
entity after its. separation from 
the body, he yet admits that it is 
no longer a complete substance, 
repeating the statement, p. 196 
sq. But how a man -can be the 
same person when he is no lunger 
the perfect subsiance which he 
is in the present life, it is difficult 
to see : not to mention that the 
contradiction of an imperfect 
substance finds no place in Ari 
stotle s system. 

2 EHi. iii. 4, 11 1 1, b, 22 (&ov\ri- 
cris 5 ecrrl TWV aSwdrcav, olov ada- 
vaa-ias ) is not here in point, as 
adavaffia must be understood to 
mean here, not immortality after 
death, but immunity from death, 
deathlessness. Hid. c. 11, 1115, 
a, 20 : the discussion is merely of 
the common opinion. On the 
other hand, Ktli. i, 11 is of im 
portance for our question. Ari 
stotle here asks whether the dead 
can he happy, and replies (1100, 
a, 13): ^ rovr6 ye iravreXus arotrov 
ttAAcus re Kal roils Xeyovtfiv TIJJUV 
tv4pytidv nva rrjv evSat/jLoyiav ; el 

bv re9veu>ra evSai- 

(J.QVO. /UTje oAo>i/ rovro 

&c., obviously implying that the 

dead are incapable of any ac 
tivity. He says, indeed, in the 
passage that follows : 8o/ce? yap 
elvai ri r<3 reGvewri Kal KO.K.OV Kal 
ayaOov, e"iirfp Kal raj U>VTI /a r) 
a I <r 9 a v o y. e v o> 5 e, and p. 1101, 
b, 1 : eoLKe yap e /c TOUTOJV, el Kal 
8iiKve?Tai irpds ai>TOvs OTIOVV, eiV 
ayddov eiVe TOVVO.VTIOV, afyavpov TL 
Kal /AiKptiv $) air\a>s ?) eiceivois elvai, 
el 8e yU^, Toaovrov ye Kal TOIOVTOV 
ware /u.^ iroielv evSai/Jiovas rovs /J.rj 
uvras [those who are not so] ,u7j5e 
TOWS OVTO.S atyaipe ia Qat r6 fj.aKapiov. 
His meaning, however, cannot 
here be that the dead have a feel 
ing of happiness or unhappiness 
which is increased by the pro 
sperity or misfortune of posterity 
(which is the subject under dis 
cussion). This is even expressly 
denied and would be wholly in 
consistent with the rest of Ari 
stotle s teaching. He is here 
speaking of the aesthetic estimate 
of human life, the question being 
how far the picture of happiness 
with which the life of a man pre 
sents us is altered by the light or 
shade cast upon it by the 
fortunes of his descendants, just 
as (1100, a, 20) by the honour or 
disgrace which follow himself 
after death. How remote is 
an actual, personal immortality 
from Aristotle s thought is 


seems to deny the existence of any such remnant. 
Under these circumstances ifc is impossible to say that 
Aristotle taught a doctrine of personal immortality. 1 
He taught merely the continued existence of thinking 
spirit, denying to it all the attributes of personality, 
and never explaining nor apparently even raising the 
question, how far this spirit can still be regarded as 
belonging to an individual, as incorporeal reason, in 
spite of its eternity and impassivity, certainly is. 2 In 
this omission we have only another instance of that 
defect which, taking its rise in the Platonic school, 
permeates the whole of Aristotle s Anthropology. Just 
as his Metaphysics gives us no clear and consistent 
account of Individuality, so his Psychology fails with 
regard to Personality. As he there left it undeter 
mined whether the ground of individual existence lies 
in Matter or in Form, so here we are left in the dark 
as to whether Personality resides in the higher or in the 
lower faculties of the soul, in the immortal or in the 
mortal part of our nature. We are left to conclude 
that each of these alternatives involves difficulties which 
Aristotle has done nothing to remove, and which, there- 
obvious also from Kt h.ix. 8, 1169, have referred in such a case to 
a, 18. The good man, he there the recompense in the next life ; 
says, will do much for his friends in Aristotle there is no trace of 
and country, K&V Serj virepaTroOvr} any such conception. The same 
a/tew . . . 6\iyov yap xptivov is true of Etli. iii. 12, 1117, b, 10 : 
rirrdr/vai ff(()6Spa /zaAAoi/ eAoir hv r) offcp ch/ /uaAAoz/ r}]V apST^v e^P 
TTO\VV ?j/JeVa, Kal /Btaxrai Ka\<as iracrav Kal eyScu/xoyeVTepos ?}, 
fviavrbv 7) TToAA 5 ITTJ TVXOVTWS, Kal ^uaAAoi/ 7ri TW Qavd.r<p \VTrr]8 f)ffTai 
/j.iav Tipa^iv Ka\r]v Kal /j.eyd\7)v T) rep TOIOVTC{> yap /m.d\iffra fjv aiov, 
TroAAas Kal /Aiicpas. Toils 5 vTrepairo- Kal OVTOS /AeyicrTwv ayaQwv airo- 
OvflffKovcri TOUT fous o"i>,u/3cuVei . crrepe iTai elSws. 
alpovvrai yap psya /caAoi/ eauroTs. l SCHEADEK, ibid. 101 sq. 

Besides the inherent worth of the - See p. 99, n. 5, 

noble deed Plato would certainly 


fore, we cannot doubt tie failed himself to observe. 
Reason as such or Pure Spirit cannot, it would appear, 
be the seat of Personality, since it is the eternal, 
universal, and immutable element in man. It is un 
touched by birth and death, and by the changes of the 
temporal life. It abides immutably within the circle of 
its own life, without receiving impressions from with 
out or passing any part of its activity beyond itself. 
To the sphere of sense, on the other hand, are assigned 
all multiplicity and movement, all interchange between 
the world and man, all mutation and evolution in a 
word, all that is definite and living in personal exist 
ence. Yet the personality and free self-determina 
tion of a rational being cannot be said to reside in the 
sensitive part of his nature. Wherein does it, then, 
reside ? To this question Aristotle has no answer ; for 
just as Reason, on his view, enters the sensitive soul at 
birth from without and leaves it again at death, so 
during life also there is lacking any inner unity between 
the two. And what is said about the Passive Reason 
and the Will is wholly unfitted, on account of its vague 
ness and uncertainty, to afford any scientific principle 
that can mediate between the heterogeneous parts of 
the human soul. 





A. Ethics 

HITHERTO we have had for our aim the investigation 
of the knowledge of reality as such. We have now to 
deal with an activity to which knowledge serves only 
as a means. This consists either in production or in 
action. 1 The scientific investigation of the latter 
Aristotle embraces under the general name of Politics, 2 
distinguishing, however, between Politics proper, or 
the doctrine of the State, and Ethics, 3 which naturally 

1 See i. 181, n. 3, supra, and 
upon the method of this science, i. 
168, n. 2, supra. That it has not to 
do, however,merely with practical 
interests is obvious among other 
passages from Polit. iii. 8 init. : 
Set 5e /j.iKp<p Sia /j.a.KpoT(puv etVeTj/ 
ris e/ca<TT7j TOVTWV T&V iroXirti&v 
<TTIJ> Kal yap e^ei Tivas vnropias, 

T$ 8e TTfpl SKaffTTIV /J.(do$OV <pl\0- 

cro(povvTi Kal i*}) /J-dvov airo- 
wpbs rb trparTeiv 
i rb /mr) irapopav /j.t]5e TI 
/, aAAa SyXovv rr)v irepl 
dA7j0etoj/. While, there 
fore, practical philosophy qua 
practical has to do with action, 
qua philosophy it has the scien 
tific interest of pure knowledge. 

- See i. 187, supra. Practical 
philosophy is also called ^ -rrepl 
ravdpunriva (pi\o<ro(pia, Etli. x. 10, 
1181, b, 15. 

3 The common view of the 
relation between them, which 
was adopted i 187, viz. that 
Ethics treats of the moral activity 
of the individual, Politics of the 
State, cannot, even in view of 
what NICKES, Zte pol d. Arist. 
Libr. p. 5 sq., and BRANUIS, p. 
1335, remark, be admitted to be 
wrong. Aristotle certainly dis 
tinguishes (Etli. x. 10) between 
the two parts of Politics on the 
ground that the second deals 
with the means by which the 
knowledge of virtue acquired in I 



precedes it. Turning to the latter, we must ask first 
how the End of all human action is defined by Aristotle. 
We shall then proceed to his account of the nature of 
Moral Activity and of the particular Virtues ; passing 
thence with him to the discussion of Friendship, which 
forms the link between Ethics and Politics. 1 

(the first is applied to life, and 

he proves the necessity of this 
further investigation on the 
ground that discussions (or know 
ledge, \6yoi) are not able of 
themselves to make men virtuous. 
Accordingly, Ethics and Politics 
may be said to be related to one 
another as the pure and the 

: applied part of one and the same 
science. But as those means are 

to be found, according to Ari 
stotle, only in the life of the 
community, upon which the Ethics 
(as an account of moral activities 
as such) does not further enter, 
the above description corresponds 
to the actual relation in which 
the works stand to one another. 
Even Aristotle, moreover, dis 
tinguishes (Eth. vi. 8, 1141, b, 23) 
between two kinds of practical 
knowledge : that which refers to 
the individual, and that which 
refers to the community, eori 
Se, he says, teal TI iroA.m/cJ) Kal rj 
<pp6vi]<ns T] O.VTT] ]UfU ets, T& ^Woi 
elvai ov ravrbv avrcus, and after 
distinguishing the different de 
partments of politics (TT)S TTept 
Tr^Aiv, sc. eTTKTTrjjiojs) he continues : 
8o/ce? Se Kal (ppovrjffis fJ.d\iffT slvai 
ft irepl avrbv Kal eW. While, how 
ever, (ppovncris is knowledge in 
relation to moral conduct, ethics 
is simply the account of the prin 
ciples which (pp6vr)<ns establishes. 
Eudemus (v. i. 186, n. 4, supra) 
accordingly calls it by this name. 

It is not true that the Magna 
Moralia, subordinates politics to 
ethics (BRANDIS, foW.): thelatter 
is there described at the very 
outset as a /m-fpos TT/S 7roAiTt:?}s, 
it being added that the subject 
as a whole should be called, not 
ethics, but politics. When NTCKES, 
ibid., sees in the Ethics only a 
treatise upon the siimm/trn 
bontim, this description (in so far 
as it indicates merely the ascer 
tainment and enumeration of the 
constituent parts of the su-mmiini 
Ijonwni) is too narrow ; the Ethics 
itself classifies its contents (s. 
10 init.~) under the four titles of 
the suinmum bonum, the virtues, 
friendship, and pleasure so that 
it is apparent, even on the sur 
face, that it is not a mere descrip 
tion of the summum banum, but 
an account of moral action as a 
whole. If, on the other hand, we 
include in the discussion of the 
suinmum bonuiit the detailed 
investigation into all its condi 
tions and constituent parts, the 
suggested description would be 
too wide, for its most important 
constituent, theoretic activit} 7 , is 
not fully discussed in the Eth*e*. 
1 We have already discussed 
(p. 96 sq ) the threefold revision 
of the Ethics of Aristotle, and 
shall confine ourselves in the 
following account to the Nicoma- 
chean Ethics, which alone is 
genuine, giving the parallel 



1. The End of all hurnan activity l is the Good, or, 
more accurately, that Good which is within the reach of 
human action, for Ethics has no concern with the 
abstract Idea of the Good. 2 The final aim of all action 
must be the highest Good : in other words, it must be 
something which is sought, not for the sake of anything 
else, but simply and solely for its own sake, and is. 
sufficient of itself to invest life with the highest worth. 3 

passages from the other two only 
where they elucidate or deviate 
from it in any important respect. 

1 Of. on this subject TEICH- 
MULLEE ( Die Einheit der arist. 
Eudamonie, Bulletin de la Class? 
d. Sci. hist.-philol. et pollt. de 
VAcademie de St-Petersbourg, 
t. xvi. N. 20 sqq. p. 305 sqq.), 
who rightly emphasises the dis 
tinction between the constituent 
elements and the external con 
ditions of happiness. 

2 Etll. i. 1 illlt. Ua 
Kal Tracra ^ue tfoSos, 6fj.oicas 8e 
re Kal irpoaipfffis, aya6ov 
etyizcrOai So/ce? Sib Ka\ws 

vavro TayaObv, ov irdj/T e^ierai. 
This good is called here (1094, a, 
18), and c. 2, 1095, a, 16, irpaKrlv 
and irpaKThv aya96v. Aristotle 
next comes to speak more fully, c. 
4, of the Platonic Idea of the 
Good (Ph. d. Gr. i. 591 sqq.), and 
after bringing forward several 
other arguments against it 
says, ibid. 1096, b, 30 : this 
discussion, however, properly 
belongs to another science ; et 
yap Kal tvriv sv TI Kal [so RASSOW, 
Forsch. ill), die niliom. Eth. 
53 sq., with three MSS., for rb 
Koivrj KaTyyopov/jLevov aya9bv 
XMpiffTov TL avrb Kofl avTO, 5?jAoj/ 
is OVK &j/ en? irpaKTOv ovfie KTt]T^)V 
vvv Se TOIOVTOV n ^VjT 

Nor is it true that the idea of 
the good, at any rate as an ideal, 
furnishes the guiding principle 
in the pursuit of the KTIJTO. Kal 
irpaKTa rcov ayaOdav. Inter alia, 
he says : airopov Se Kal ri w 

etScos cturo rdya66v t 
&c., as though moral philosophy 
were meant for the service of 
handicraft. This it certainly is 
not in Aristotle himself (as may 
herewith be expressly remarked 
in view of the remarks of TEICH- 
MULLER, loc. cit. 315 sq.), and 
yet it must be if he is justified 
in using against Plato an argu 
ment tha.t with equal justice 
might be turned against himself ; 
for it must be confessed that the 
advantage to be derived by the 
weaver or the carpenter in the 
pursuit of his calling from Ari 
stotle s treatise upon happiness 
is not great. 

3 Etli. i. 1, 1094, a, 18 : et 8^j 
Tt re Aos fffrl ruv irpaKruiv & 5t 
uvrd /3ouAdyU.e0a, TaAAa 8e Sta 
TOVTO, Kal fj.}] Travra 8t erepov 
alpov/bLfOa (irpofiffi yap ovrw 7 ets 
aireipov, &<TT elvat KSV^V Kal /j.aT- 
aiav T}\V ope|tj/) SyjAoi/ a>s TOUT Uv 
ely rayaObv [absolute good] Kal 
To 1 apiffTov. c. 5 : in every form 
of activity the good is that ov 
fa AOITTO TrpaTTcrai the 



TeAos. WO~T Ti TUIV 
OLiravTwv etrrl Te Aos, TOUT Uv efoj 
TO TrpaKTOv ayaOov, el 8e TrAetco, 
TavTa . . . TO 8 apiarov Te AetoV 
Tt (paij/erai . . . TeAetoVepoi/ 8e 
\yo/j.fv TO KaO avTO SIUKTOV TOV 
Si eVepo;/ /ml Tt) /iTjSe TTOTe Si ^AAo 
aipfrbv TU>V Kal KaO aina Kal 8td 
To00 aiptT&v, Kal air\>s Sr; Te Aeioi 
To 1 /ca0 auTO aiptrov del /cal ^tTjSe - 
iroTe 8 aX\o. And further on : 
TO 700 Te\iov ayaGov avTapKes 
flvai So/ce? . . . TO 8 avTapKts 
Tidefjiev o /JLOvov/j.vov alpcTov Troie? 
TOJ/ j8: oj/ /cal /xrySei/os e^Sea (simi 
larly PLATO, Phileb. 22, B); x. 6, 
H76, b, , 30. Cf. i. 12, where 
it is explained that happiness, 
as complete in itself, is not an 
v, but a Ti/uiiov, something 

This highest Good is admitted on all hands to be 
Happiness : l but when we ask in what Happiness itself 

QiM st. crlt. in Etli. N. Marb. 
1861, p. 9 sqq.), gives a wholly 
inadmissible sense to the passage ; 
how could what is complete still 
grow ? (as TEICHMULLER rightly 
asks, loo. cit. p. 312), or how can 
happiness, which contains all 
goods in itself, be increased by 
further additions ? Moreover, it 
is expressly said, Etli. x. 2, 1172, 
b, 32, that nothing can be the 
good o jueTa TIVOS T&V /cafl avrd 
ayaOuv atperwrepov yivfrai. TEICH- 
MULLER accordingly proposes to 
take the sentence as an apagoge : 
happiness is the most desirable 
thing, if we do not regard it as 
a sum, but if we do, then the 
addition of the smallest of goods 
must make it more desirable, 
and therefore we cannot regard 
it as a sum of particular goods. 
The same explanation is given 
by THILO, Zeitschr. /. eseacte 
Phil. ii. 3, 284 sq., and LAAS 
(see infra). The question, how 
ever, in the passage is, not whether 
happiness is a sum of goods, but 
whether it is the most desirable 
of things or not ; nor does aw- 
apiQ/uiov/jivos mean regarded as a 
sum ; ffwapiG^lv can only here 
have the meaning which it has 
in the kindred passage (explained 
by Top. iii. 2, .117, a, 16, and 
ALEXANDER in loco) Rliet. i. 7, 
1363, b, 19 ; Polit. vi. 3, 1318, a, 
35; Soph. El. 5, 167, a, 25; Etli. 
ii. 3, 1105, b, 1; i.e. it must mean 
either to count along with or 
to count up ; when used with 
a singular subject it can of course 
only mean the former, and ac 
cordingly is explained, 1. 14 of 

1 Aristotle presupposes this, 
Etli. i. 2, 1095, a, 17; liliet. i. 5 
init., as something universally 
acknowledged. He proves it more 
fully, Etli. i. 5, 1097, a, 34 sqq. ; 
cf. x. 6, 1176, b, 3, 30, from the 
points of view indicated in the 
preceding note. In Etli. i. 5, how 
ever, the words, 1097, b, 16 sqq., 
make a difficulty : !Vi 8e, it is 
here said, -navrcav alp^ru>Tarf]v [sc. 
elVcu] /AT; 

8e 5r)\ov o 

e\axicfTOv TWV ayaOwv 

yap aya6u>v yivsrai rb 

jiiei oi/, b,yaQG)v 8e rd ^l^ov atpe- 

Ta>Tpov det. The most obvious 

meaning of these words, viz. 

that happiness is in the highest 

degree desirable without the 

addition of anything else, and is 

increased by every addition 

although of ever so small a good 



consists, differences at once arise. 1 Some give the 
preference to pleasure, others to practical activity, a 
third class to the scientific life. 2 The first of these 
views seems to Aristotle hardly to deserve refutation. 

the same passage, by 
and understood in this sense, 
M. Mor. i. 2, 1184, a, 15 sqq. ; of. 
ILASSOW, Beitr. z. Erld. d. nik. 
Ethilt (Weimar, 1862, Gymn.- 
Progr.), p. 5 sqq., where the ex 
planations of LAAS (Ev8ai/u.oi>{a 
Arist. Berl. 1858, 7 sqq.), Mux- 
SCHEK, and others, are also dis 
cussed. KAFSOW sown explana 
tion (p. 10 : that happiness is 
not to be reckoned among goods 
nor regarded as a good beside 
other goods ) is not easy to 
harmonise with the language of 
the passage. If the text is cor 
rect, we must explain it rather 
to mean : We regard happiness 
as the most desirable of all 
things, so far as it can be com 
pared with them without itself 
being classed as one of the iravra 
[it is more desirable than any 
thing else] ; if we dosire to class 
it as a good together with other 
goods, it would become more 
desirable still if its value were 
increased by the addition of 
ever so small anotln-r good. 
But it is difficult to see the 
force of the latter remark, for 
the proof of the proposition 
that happiness is perfect good, is 
only weakened by this concession 
to a non-Aristotelian point of 
view. It is a question whether 
the words v-n-epoxv yap . - aipeTu- 
Ttpov del, or perhaps the whole 
passage from crwapid/u.ov/u.evrii Se 
to alptTWT. del may not be an 
insertion by a later hand. In 

the former case, we may supply 
iravTbiv after alperwrepav in the 
preceding words and explain 
them to mean : We hold that 
happiness is the most desirable 
of all things so far as it is not 
itself classed as one of them ; or 
in so far as it is classed along 
with other things, combined with 
the smallest other good, that it is 
more desirable than all else be 
sides. The most recent editor 
and commentator on the Nico- 
macliean Ethics, RAMS AUEK, pays 
no regard either to the inherent 
difficulty of the passage or to 
the attempts of his predecessors 
to solve it. 

1 Fee Etli. i. 2, 1095, a, 20 
sqq., c. 9 init. ; Rhet. ibid. 1360, 
b, 14 sqq., where the things 
which are commonly regarded as 
happiness are enumerated and 
discussed in detail for the special 
necessities of the orator. 

- Aristotle says previously, 
EtJi. i. 2, 1095, a, 28, that he does 
not intend TO investigate every . 
view upon the nature of happi 
ness, but only such as are the 
most commonly accepted and the 
most plausible. As such he 
names these three, c. 3 init. 
TO -yap ayaObv KCU TTJI/ tvaiij(.ov iav 
ovic aAo ycos eoiKaffiv e /c rwv fiiwv 

VTTO\a/J.pdl>ll ol flfV 7TO,\A.ol Kal 
(pOpTlK&TClTOl T7]V ^8oi/T?f, Si6 Kttl 

fiiov ayairooiri T^V airoXaviTTiKov. 
rpets yap elai ^aXiffra. ol irpov- 

T VVV lp1f]/jLVOS KO.I 6 

al rpiros 6 9ecapt]TiK6s, 


Without denying that pleasure is a good, he has a 
most thorough contempt for the life which is dedicated 
to pleasure alone. Pleasure, he remarks, cannot be the 
highest Good, for these among other reasons : that it is 
not self-sufficing ; that some pleasures are not desirable ; 
that many things have an independent value of their 
own wholly apart from the pleasure that they bring ; 
that pleasure and enjoyment are only a recreation, and 
only exist for the sake of action ; that even the worst 
men, whom we cannot call in any sense happy, are 
capable of sensual enjoyment, whereas that alone is 
truly good which the virtuous man recognises as such. 1 
Just as little can honour or wealth be admitted to be 
the highest good. The former does not so much affect 
those to whom it is paid as those who pay it ; its value, 
moreover, consists essentially in the fact that it pro 
duces consciousness of worth, which, therefore, is of 
more value than the honour itself. 2 Wealth, again, is 
not desired on its own account, so that it wants the 
first characteristic of Good in the higher sense. 3 

The happiness of man can, in fact, consist only in his 
activity, 4 or more accurately in that activity which is 

1 Eth. i. 3. 1095, b, 19, x. 2, See e.g. Eth. i. 3, 1095, b, 31, c. G, 

1172 b 26, 1173, b, 28 to the end 1098, a, 3 ; and the more definite 

of the chap.; c. 6, 1176, b, 12- statement, c, 9, 1098, b, 31 : 

1177 a 9. 8ia<j>epei 5e "Iffus ov /J.iKpbv eV KTr,<Ti 

2 /;a. i. 3, 1095, b, 22 sqq. ^ xM ff r *> &P iff Tov inroXa^avtiv 

3 Ibid. 1096, a, o, cf. Hint. i. Kal eV e|ei $ fvtpye y. r^v fiev yap 
5, 1361, a, 23. ^l " eVSex 61 " " M^ fV ayaObv airo- 

4 Aristotle frequently re- reAeTi/ vvdpxovffav, diov T /ca0eu- 
peats that happiness does not SOVTL % Kal &\\ws vws e^pjrj/cdTJ, 
consist in the mere possession of rty 5 frepyctav ov X ol6v re 
certain advantages, in a mere irpd^i yap e| avay/crjs Kal ev Trpa^i. 
e|is (on which see i. 285, n. 3, sup.) As at the Olympic games it is not 
or Ki-ijffiv, but in actual activity, sufficient to be strong and fair, m 



proper to him as man. 1 What kind of activity is this ? 
Not the general vital activity, which he shares even 
with plants ; not the sensitive activity, which belongs 
to the lower animals as well as to man ; but the activity 
of reason. 2 Now the activity of reason, in so far as it 
is rightly performed, we call Virtue. The proper hap 
piness of man consists, therefore, ID virtuous activity, 
or, inasmuch as there are several such, in the noblest 
and most .perfect of these. 3 But this is the theoretic 
or pure activity of thought. For it belongs to the/ 
noblest faculty and directs itself to the highest object;! 

order to win the crown of 
victory, but one must engage in 
the contest for it so in life we 
win the good and the fair by 
action alone. In reference to 
these passages, see x. 6, 1176, a, 
33: enro^ev 8 on OVK CGTIV e ts [77 
ei ScujU.o/ iaJ Kal yap Tip Kadevfioi/Ti 
8ta /3iow virdpxL dv . . . KOU TOJ 
SvaTvxovvTi ra /uLfyicrra . . . aAAa 
yUaAAoy els evepyeidv Tiva Qereov. 
ix. 9, 1169, b, 29: 77 euSat^aoj/t a 
fvipyeid T(S CCTTIV, 77 8 ei/epyeia 
STJ AOI OTI yivzTai Kal oi>x wTrapyet 
Sxnrep KTri/ud TI. 

1 Eth. i. 6, 1097, b, 24: we 
shall discover wherein happiness 
consists, et A7j<|>0e/7j Tb epyov TOV 
dvOp&Trov. &<nrep yap av\T]Tp . . . 
Kal iravTl Tex v LT P> Kc " oAcus Ziv 
eVrlj/ Hpyov TI Kal irpd^is, eV TW 
tpyu> SoKe? Tayadbv elvai Kal TO ev, 

HO~TL TI epyov avTOv. 

* Ibid. 1. 33 sqq. 

3 Eth. i. 0, 1098, a, 7 : e* 8 
CTT\v epyov di>6pxTrov ^u^rjs evep- 
yeia /coxa Xoyov T) ^ avev \6yov, 
Tb 8 avTo (partis epyov flvai T< 
ycvi ToCSe Kal TovSe (TirovSalov . . . 
!Trjs war 

rpbs rb tpyov KidapHrrov 
fj.ev yap rb KiOapi^tiv, (nrovSaiov Se 
rb eu i 8 OVTWS, dvOpunrov Se 

epyov fayv riva, ravrriv 8e 

evepyeiav Kal irpd^is ^era 
\6yov, a-irovfiaiov 8 dvSpbs ev ravra 
Kal /caAais, tKaarov 8 eS Kara. rr)v 
otKeiav dperr)v aTTOTeAetTai ei 8 
ovrca Tb dvQpuTrivov dyaQo 

yiverai /car ctperV, 

at dperal Kara 
Kal reAeiorciTT?!/. x. 6, 1176, b, 2 : 
activities are valued either for 
the sake of something else or for 
their own sake ; the latter is the 
case when nothing is expected 
from them beyond the activity 
itself. Happiness (y. supra} must 
be an activity of the latter kind. 
ToiavTa 8 eiz/ai SoKovcm/ at Kar 
dftfTTiv Trpdteis. rd yap Ka\d Kal 
(TjrovSaia Trpdrreiv rwv Si aura, 
aiptrtav [sc. eo-TiV]. Kal T>V TraiSiuv 
8e at rjSe iai. Happiness, however, 
cannot consist in these (see p. 141, 
n. 1, sup.), but (1177, a, 9) eV rats 
/car dpeTrjv fvepyt iais ; it is (i. 10, 
1099, b, 26) tyvxvis evepyeia /car 
aperty iroid ns, or more accurately 
(i. 13, init.), tyvxrjs evepyeid TIS 



is exposed to the least interruption, and affords the 
tighest pleasure ; it is least dependent on foreign 
lupport and external expedients ; it is its own aim and 
>bject, and is valued purely for its own sake ; in it 
man arrives at rest and peace, while in the military 
and political, or in the practical life generally, he is 
ever restlessly pursuing ends which lie outside the 
activity itself. Reason is the Divine in us. It is the 
true essence of the man. The pure activity of reason 
can alone perfectly accord with his true nature. It- 
alone can afford him unconditional satisfaction, and 
raise him above the limitations of humanity into the 
life of God. 1 Next to it comes moral activity, which 

yap p av0pci)ir6s eo~Tiv OVTW 
<xAA p Qe16v TI ev avT$ 
uffcf 8e Stacpepet TOVTO TOV 
TOffOVTca Kal rj evepyeia. TIJS Kara 
eT7)v. el 87^7 Qelov &c. 
161. X. 8, 1178, b, 
require many aids to 
<p 8e OewpovvTi ovo evbs T&V 
Trpos ye T^V evepyeiav 
V.A ws eiTrelv Kal eju-Koo id 
eo~Ti irpos ye T}\V decapiav p 8 
avOpwiros eo"Ti Kal TrAetocn o~vrj, 
atpe^Tai TO, KUT apeTr/v irf>a.TTetv 
SeTjcrerat 8 ovv TUV TOLOVTWV irpbs 
T^ avOpcaTreveffdai. i] Se reAeia 
evftai/ULOvla on QeutpriTtK t] T IS effTiv 
evepyeia Kal evTevQev av tyaveir}. 
The gods are pre-eminently con 
sidered happy ; but what actions 
can we assign to them ? Shall 
we suppose that they exhibit 
their justice by buying and 
selling, their valour by en 
countering danger, their liber 
ality by gifts of money, their 
self-command by the conquest of 
evil desires ? Nor will they 
sleep like Endymion. T< 8?^ 

1 Eth. x. 7, init. : el 5 
T) ev8a.ifj.ovia war aperr/i/ evepyeia. 
evXoyov Kara r?V KpaTLtrrrjv avTf} 
8 ai/ e?77 TOV apiffTOv. eire 8^7 vovs 
TOVTO e lTe &AAo rt, . . . eire Qelov 
bv Kal avrb e tTe rcav ev r)(juv rb Oeio- 
rarov, f) TOVTOV evepyeta Kara T}]V 
oiKeiav aperrjv eft) Uv r] T\eia evSat- 

(see p. 
1 : we 

TOI. After proving this as above, 
Aristotle continues, 1177, b, 16: 
et 8$; TUV i*.tv Kara ras dperos 
irpa|ecoi/ at iroXirtKal Kal 
/caAAet Kal fieyeOfi 
avrai 8 atrxoAoi Kal re Aous Tivbs 
tfyizvTai Kal ov Si auras atperai 
etcrti/, 7) 8e TOV vov evepyeia (nrovSfj 

T6 8ia<pplJS So/C6i 06(Wp7JTtK^ OVffa, 

Kal Trap avr^v ovSevbs 

XP La , 

ai/TTj 8e (Twav^ei r^f tvepyeiav, Kal 
T& avrapKes 8^ Kal a"xoAct(TTj/cbz/ Kal 
&TPVTOV a>s avdpunrct), Kal ocra aAAa 
TO? {jLaKapicp air ovf/ner at, Kara rav- 
Tf]v T^V fvepyeiav <paivTai ovra, r\ 
reAeia Srj fvHcufjtovla avrt] ai/ 6^77 av- 
Bpcairov . . . 6 8e TOIOVTOS ai/ e^Tj 
fiios KpfiTTcaf $) /car avOpwirov ov 



thus constitutes the second essential element of happi 
ness. Inasmuch, however, as it is the Divine in man 
which is called into exercise in thought, the latter may 
be regarded as a superhuman good ; whereas moral 
virtue is in an espec : al sense the </ood of man. 1 

While these are undoubtedly the essential and in 
dispensable elements of Happiness, Aristotle does not 
) exclude from that notion other gifts and advantages, 
I some of which proceed from moral and rational activity, 
while others are independent of it. 2 Thus, for instance, 

tavri t &c. (see i. ?97, n. 1, supra) 
. . . rots Trei/ yap 0eo?s airas 6 
jSios fj.aKa.pios, ToTs 5 avQpcairois, e</> 
offov 0/j.oicafj.d ri TT)S rotavrys evep- 
yelas virdpxzt r&v 8 a\\ccv Cv uv 
ovfiev euSatyUOz/e?, eVeiS?? oi>5a/J.rj 
6 f capias. e(p> ocrov 8)7 
ivGi rj Oeup a, Kal % v8ai/j.ovia, 

Kal evZaifj-ov^lv [sc./uaA\oi/ uTr 
ov Kara (rvju-fiffiyKls, aAAa Kara 
rr]v Becapiav avr^j yap Kad auT7)v 
Tijji a. WCTT e^rj av r] ei 8cn/xoz//a 
dfcapia TIS. Metapli. xii. 7, 1072, 
b, 24 : ^ Oecapia rb ^diffrov Kal 
apia-rov. Cf. i. 398, n. 5, supra. 
The contradiction between these 
statements and Pol. vii 2, 1324, 
a, 25, c. 3, 1325, b, 14 sqq. is only 
apparent. In the latter passages 
theoretic activity is not compared 
as such with practical, but the 
life of solitary devotion to science 
with the social life of the state; 
and while the practical life is 
declared to be the more excellent, 
the expression is used in it s wider 
sense, and the theoretic activity 
which is self-sufficino:a.nd directed 
towards no external end is ex 
pressly said to be the most 
perfect form of Trpa^is. Cf. also 

Pol. vii. 15, 1334, b, 14. 

1 Eth. x. 7 (see preceding n.) ; 
C. 8 init. . Sevrepws 5 [euSaf^wj/] 
o icara T^V &X\i)v aper^j/ [/Sios] 
at yap /car avrfyv fvepyeiai dvdpca- 
jriKai . . . ffvvffcvKTai Se Kal ^ 
(ppovrjais r?7 TOV tfOovs apery . . . 
(rvvrtprrHAcvai 8 avrai [the ethical 
virtues] Kal ro?s TrdOecri irepl rb 
ffvvderov av elev of 8e rov avvQerov 
dperal dvOpcaTriKai. Kal 6 ftios Sr] 6 
/COT avTOS /cat ^ evSaifJ-ovia. Ibid. 
1178, b, 5 (see preceding n.). 
As will be obvious from the pre 
ceding account, the distinction 
here is merely in the mode of 
expression, nor can we say with 
HITTER (iii. 327) that, because 
Aristotle wavers in the mode of 
presenting his view, the theoretic 
understanding is intended to be 
left out of account in denning 
human happiness. 

2 The statement that such 
things deserve to be called ad 
vantages only in so far as they 
have a directly moral significance 
(TEICHMULLER, loc. cit. 337 sq.) 
is not Aristotle s ; he calls them 
often enough goods, and that 
which is a good is presumably 
an advantage. 



I happiness necessarily presupposes a certain complete 
ness of life. A child cannot be happy any more than 
it can be virtuous, for it is still incapable of any rational, 

[moral action. 1 Mere temporary happiness, moreover, 
is insufficient: one swallow does not make summer. 2 
Therefore, if we cannot say with Solon that no man is 
happy till he is dead, yet we must admit that happiness 
j can, at any rate, only be looked for in a life which has 

I reached a certain degree of maturity. Happiness, in fact, 
is the virtuous activity of the soul in a completed life. 3 
Again, man requires for perfect happiness certain 
external goods. Happiness, it is true, is something 
other than good fortune. 4 Poverty, sickness, and mis 
fortune may even serve the brave man as an occasion 
for noble conduct, and so far the really happy man can 
never be miserable. And yet, on the other hand, no 
jone will call a man any longer happy if the fate of a 
Priam overtakes him ; 5 and while the virtuous man 
an be content with few gifts of fortune, 6 yet in many 

jrespects they are indispensable to him : without wealth, 
power, influence, little can be accomplished; noble 

1 Eth. i. 10, 1100, a, 1. 

2 Ibid. i. 6 fin. 

3 Ibid. i. fl, 1191, a, 14: 

FCOT dperrj^ TeAetcu/ et/epyovi/ra 

rots eKrbs ayaOo is IKO 

ifi/oi/. fj/r] T^ Tvxdvra 
jteAAa reAftoi/ &LOJ/ ; 7) TT^ _ . 
. i/cal ^i<nao^vov ovrai Kal rt 

ffoi ra Kara \6yov ; cf. p. l -<3, n. 2, 
IX. 7, 1177, b, 24: r] reAem 5^? 

- \evfiai l uo]/{a avrt] Uv ei jj avOpcaTrov, 

\yap dreAe s eVri r<ii/ TTJS evSaiftovlas. 
4 JW/. vii. 1, 1323, b, 26; 


Etli. vii. 14, 1153, b, 21. 

5 Mh.L 11, 1101, a, 6 (see p. 
1 50, n. 2, infra) ; cf. vii. 14, 1153, 
b, 17 ; Polit. vii. 13, 1332, a, 19. 

ti t Eth. x. 9, 1179, a, 1 : 
olrjrfoi/ y iro\\&v Kal 
8er}(re(T0ai. rov fvSai/m.o^ ij(rou 
jj.->1 eVSe^eTcu avev ruv eitrbs 
piov eivai ov yap eV rfj virfp&oXfj rb 
avrapKS Kal ?; irpa^is, Swarbv Se 
Kal fi^i dpxovra yrts Kal Qa\a.Trrts 
TcpdrrfLv ra Ka\d. Private persons, 
it is remarked, are as a rule the 
happiest. Cf. Polit. vii. 1, 1323, 
a, 38 sqq. 




birth, beauty, joy in one s children, are elements in 
perfect happiness ; friendship is even more necessary 
to the happy than to the unhappy ; health is invaluable 
to all ; in a word, for complete satisfaction in life, besides 
spiritual good, a certain supply of material and external 
advantages (xp^^la, svsrrjpia, evrjj/jLSpta) is indispen 
sable, 1 and tt$3 it is a mistake to suppose is neces 
sarily bestowed by the gods upon the virtuous man. 2 
The gifts of fortune taken in themselves, therefore, are 
certainly a good, although to the individual they may 
often turn out an evil. 3 

Even pleasure Aristotle reckoned an element in 
happiness, defending it against the reproaches cast upon 
it by Plato and Speusippus. 4 For he takes a quite 

1 See Eth. i. 9, 1099, a, 31 sqq. 
c. 3, 1096, a, 1, c. 11, 1101, a, 14, 
22, vii. 14, 1153, b, 17, viii. 1 
init. ix. 9, 11 (to which I shall 
subsequently return), x. 8, 1178, 
a, 23 sq. c. 9 init. ; Polit. vii. 1, 
1323, a, 24, c. 13, 1331, b, 41, also 
Rhet. i. 5, 1360, b, 18 sqq. 

2 Aristotle says, indeed, Eth. 
x. 9 ad Jin., c. 10 init., that he 
who lives according to reason is 
dear to the gods, who take plea 
sure in that which is akin to 
themselves ; if the gods care for 
men, such a one will be the most 
highly favoured by them, and if 
anything is their gift it must be 
happiness. We have already seen 
that his system leaves no room 
for a special providence. The 
care of the gods, therefore, if we 
transfer the expression from po 
pular to scientific language, must 
coincide with the natural opera 
tion of the rational life. External 
goods, on the other hand, he con 

sistently treats elsewhere 
matter of chance ; see Eth. x. 
10, 1099, b, 20 sqq. vii. 14, 1173, 

b. 17 ; Polit. vii. 1, 1323, b, 27, 

c. 13, 1332, a, 29. 

3 Etli. v. 2, 1129, b, 1 sqq. ; 
cf. c. 13/w. 

4 ZELL. Ph. d. Gr. i. pp. 506, 
861,3. Whether Aristotle includes 
the Cynics is not clear ; we might 
conclude so from Eth. x. 1 ; cf. 
ibid. i. 262, 2. For Aristotle s 
doctrine of pleasure see the full 
discussion, Eth. x. 1-5, vii. 12- 
15. It is sufficient to quote 
x. 2, 1173, a, 15 : Xtyovffi 5e rb 
fifv ayaObv &p{(r9ai, r^v 8 ^S 
aopiarov effect, ori Severa 
jUaAAoi/ Kal TO i]TTOV (PLATO, 
Pklleb. 27, E sqq. 30, & sq. and 
other passages, see ZELL. Ph. d. 
Gr. i. 506) ; but the same is true 
of the virtues or of health. It i 
further asserted that pleasure 

a motion and a becoming (cf . Pi 

d. Gr. i. 506, 3): but if it were 



different view of its nature. Plato had relegated 
pleasure to the sphere of indeterminate, motionless 
Being or Becoming ; to Aristotle, on the other hand, it 
igj&ther the natural perfection of every activity, and as 
such the immediate outcome of the perfected activity 
in as true a sense as health and beauty are the imme 
diate outcome of bodily perfection. It is not a move 
ment and a becoming, but the goal in which every 
movement of life finds rest and completeness. 1 The 

motion it must continue for a yeiav rj fjSovf). 1174, b, 31 : 
certain lapse of time, and there 
fore, like all motion, have a 
definite velocity ; if a becoming, 
it must have a definite product ; 
but neither of these is the case : 
pleasure is produced by a motion, 
but it is not itself a motion (ibid. 
1. 29 sqq. c. 3, 1174, a, 19 sqq.). 
Furthermore, every pleasure in 
volves a pain : it is a satisfaction, 
and every satisfaction pre 
supposes a want but there are 
enjoyments which involve no 
pain, and do not consist in satis 
faction of a want ; these last, 
however, are merely causes of 
pleasure, not the pleasure itself 
(ibid. 1173, b, 7 sqq. vii. 15, 1154, 
b, 15). Lastly, there are evil 

yeiav r) rjSovf). 1174, b, 
reAeto? 5e TT^V evepyeiav r) ^5oj/?; 
ovx &s ?) e|is tvvTrdpxovffa [as this 
particular form of activity itself, 
as, for instance, virtue], dAA &s 
TI re Aos olov roils 
&pa. It lasts, there 
fore, as long as the activity in 
question continues as it was, but 
changes and fades with the 
activity itself, which in man can 
never but be an intermittent 
one (cf. vii. 15, 1154, b, 20 sqq.), 
c. 5, 1075, a, 20: &vcv re yap 
fvepyeias ov yberai ySov)], Tracrdv 
re tvepyeiav TeAeiot }) fjSovf) oQev 
SoKovffi Kal raj e/fSet SLa<pepeiv ra 
yap erepa T$ e?5ei ixp" 1 erepwv 
olo/j.e6a TfXfiovffdai. This is fur- \ 
ther developed in the passage 

pleasures ; but it does not follow that follows, prominence being 
for this reason that all pleasure is given to the fact that every ac- 
evil (x. 2, 1173, b, 20 sqq. c. 5, 
1175, b, 24 sqq. vii. 13 f. 1153, a, 
17-35, b, 7-13). 

1 Et li. x. 3 init. : pleasure 
is like intuitive perception, com 
plete at every moment of time : 
o\ov yap ri effn Kal /car ouSeVa 

jov]S TeAeicw- 
elSos. c. 4, 1174, a, 

tivity obtains from the pleasure 
springing from it a heightened 
energy and power of endurance, 
whereas it is disturbed by that 
which proceeds from another; 
vii. 14, 1153, b, 14; see infra. 
The statement, Eliet. i. 11 init. 
is less accurate : inroKeiffOca 8 
r/utV eli/cu 

20: Kara iraaav yap 

ov}], <5,uo:a>s Se SidvoLav 
6fwpiav . . . TeAeto? 5e T^JV 


t]v f]Qovr\v KLvnaiv nva 
Kal KaTaffTaffLv aOpoav 
v fis THV virdpxova ai 
Kal <j)v(Ti,v, AUTTTJJ Se TOVVCLVT IOV, For 
vep- on the one hand, strictly speak - 

L 2 


an activity the higher the pleasure that accom 
panies it. Thought and moral action afford the purest 
pleasure, 1 and the blessedness of God is nothing but 
the pleasure which springs from the most perfect 
activity. 2 The universal pursuit of pleasure, therefore, 
according to Aristotle is an absolute necessity, and is, 
indeed, nothing else than the instinct of life. 3 Pleasure 
cannot, it is true, be the highest good itself; 4 and a 
distinction is made between the different kinds of plea 
sure, each of which has a value assigned to it in direct 
proportion to the value of the activity which produces 
it ; only the pleasure of the virtuous man is declared 
to be true and truly human. 5 Nevertheless, Aristotle 
v is far from excluding pleasure in general from the con- 
1 ception of happiness, or assigning to it the subordinate 
place which Plato had marked out for it. 

We have now to consider in what relation these 
different conditions of happiness stand to one another. 
That the most indispensable element of it the one in 
which the essence of happiness must primarily be 
sought can only be the scientific and moral activity 
of the soul, is often enough asserted by Aristotle. In 
treating, for instance, of the relation between activity 

ing, Aristotle does not regard 1153, a, 20. 

the soul as moved at all, and, on 2 Metapli. ibid. ; Etk. vii. 15, 

the other, pleasure, according to 1154, b, 25 ; see p. 398, n. 5, sup. 

the passage just quoted, is not a 3 vii. 14, 1153, b, 25-32 x. 2, 

motion, but the consequence of a J172, b, 35 sqq. c. 4 sq. 1175, a, 

motion. This definition is again 10-21, ix. 9, 1170, a, 19. 

referred to, M. Mur. ii. 7, 1205, * See p. 140, supra. 

b, 6. 5 x- 2, 1173, b, 20 sqq. c. 4 

1 Metaph-xii. 7,1072, b, 16, init. c. 5, 1175, a, 21 sqq. b, 24, 

24; Mil. x. 2, 1174, a, 4, c. 4, 36 sqq. 1176, a, 17, c. 7, 1177, a, 

1174, b, 20, c. 7, 1177, a, 22, b, 23, i. 9, 1099, a, 11, vii. 14, 1153, 

20, i. 9, 1099, a, 7-29, vii. 13, b, 29 sqq. and n. 1, supra. 


and pleasure, he asserts the unconditioned superiority 
of the former as definitely as could be desired. A life 
devoted to enjoyment seems to him unworthy of man. 
The only activity which he admits to be properly human 
is the practical : the only one that is more than human 
I is the theoretic. 1 Pleasure is not the end and motive 
: of our actions, but only a necessary concomitant of 
-. activity according to nature. If the two could be 
separated, a good man would unconditionally prefer 
activity without pleasure to pleasure without activity ; 2 
but as a matter of fact it is of the very essence of virtue 
that we cannot separate pleasure from it, and that we 
find immediate satisfaction in virtuous activity without 
any addition of pleasure from without. 3 From this point 
of view the purity of Aristotle s ethics and the distinct 
ness of his utterances are beyond suspicion. His 
account of external goods might with more reason be 
accused of making man too dependent upon merely 
natural and accidental advantages. Yet even these he 

1 See p. 140 sqq. supra. TO. (pvffei rjSea. roiavra 8 at /car 

2 Eth x. 2 Jin. : ovSeis T ay aperrjv Trpdeis, Stare Kal TOVTOLS 
eXoiro rjv iratS/ou Sidvoiav e-^wv eialv r/8e?ai Kal KaQ auras, ovfiev 
Sia /3 ou, r^Sffyiei/os e <|> ols TO. TraiSia 8^ TrpoaSelrai TTJS fjSoi rjs 6 fitos 
a>s OLOV re /.laAtdTa, ot8e xaipeiv avruv Sicrirep Trepidirrov rwbs, aAA J 
iroiaiv n roov euff^lffrtov, /uLrjSeirore e%ei rrjv f)SonV ev eavrcp. irphs 

TTjOrji/ct. Trepl TroAAa re rols elpr]fj.cj/ois yap ov5 e<rr\v ayaObs 

vSrjv 7roir](Tai[j.e6 ai/ Kal el /XTjSe- 6 /x^ -^a tpuiv rais Ka\a7s Tpd^ffw 

v eirupfpoi rjSov^j , oiov fipS-v, . . . ei 8 OI/TOJ, Ka9 avras &v e^ev 

^ etSeVat, ras aperas at /car aperfyv irpd^eis f)Se?at . . . 

et 8 e | a v d y K t]S eirovrai apicrrov apa Kal /caAAttrroi/ Kal 

rovrois TjSoral, ouSej/ Siatyepei ^Siarov T; ev^aip.ovia, Kal ov 8ia>- 

e\ot/j.e6a yap av ravra Kal el ^ piffrai ravra . . . airavra yap 

yivoir air avr&v T)$ovr\. c. 6, see virap-^ei ratra rats apiarais evep- 

p. 142, n. 3, supra. yeiais. Polit. vii. 18, 1332, a, 22 : 

3 Hid. \. 9, 1099, a, 7 : etrri roiovr6s effriv o <nrovficuos <p Sia 
8e Kal 6 ffios avr&v Kad avrbv r]8vs ri]v aperr]V ra ayadd earL ra 

. , . TO?S 8e (piXoKaAoLs evrlv v^Sea ayaOd. 



only recognises in so much and in so far as they are the 
indispensable conditions of a perfect life and the instru 
ments of moral activity ; l and in this he is undoubtedly 
right. On the other hand, he is far from wishing to 
represent man as the sport of fortune. He is convinced 
that man s happiness and misery depend upon his 
y spiritual and moral condition ; that here alone we can 
look for the foundation of lasting satisfaction ; that the 
happiness of the virtuous man cannot easily be shaken 
by external fortune or changed into misery by the 
hardest lot. 2 Aristotle declares as unhesitatingly as 
Plato 3 that the true goods are those of the soul: 
external and physical goods, on the other hand, are 

fflh. vii. 14, 1153, b, 16: 
yap evepyeia reAetos efJ.- 
8 evfiai/Jioi ia T&V 
Sib TrpocrSeTTai 6 
TOCV ev (Tc6/xaTt ayadwv Kal 
e/crbs Kal rrjs TU%rjs, OTTCOS /ATJ 

Tat/ra. 01 8e Tl)V 

Kal rliv Svffrvx iais /Ji.eyd\ats 
zvdai/j.ova (pdffKOvres 
elvat, ecV y ayaObs [the Cynics: 
cf . Ph. d. Gr. i. 258, 3, 267, 4 ; 
but perhaps also PLATO : see ibid. 
743 sq.], 3) e/co j/Tes 3) aifovres oi>8ej/ 
Xeyovffiv. 1154, b, 11 : How far 
have certain bodily enjoyments 
any value ? ^ our (as aya9al at 
avayKalai, on Kal rb p.}] KaKbv 
ayaQov ecrnv; ^ /uej^pi TOV ayaOai ; 
ibid. i. 9 sq. 1099, a, 32. aSuj/aroi/ 
7ap ir) ou pdSiov ra KaAa irpdrrfiv 
1 ivra. TroAAa 7ap 
t, KaOd-rrep St bpydvwv Sia 
<pt\cav Kal irAoirrou &C. b, 27 : TOJV 
5e \oiirwv ayaOcov [besides virtue] 
ra ^tep virdpx fiV avayKalov, ra 8e 
avvepya Kal p^p^crtjua TrecpvKev 
bpyaviK&s. Polit. vii. 1, 1323, b, 
40 : /6os uev apLffros, 

Kal Koivfj TCUS TrjAecrtj/, o 
fjLTa apfT ljs KXopi]yf]lJ-fvfis 6*7rt 
aperV 7rpa|ecoi/. Cf. p. 144 sq. ; 
^A. ^^. i. 2> w. 

J J^/t. i. 11, 1100, b, 7: rb pev 
rats ri/xais 7raKO\ov9e7i> ovSafj.cas. 
bpOov ov yap tv Tainais Tb ev fy 
KaKtas, aAAa TrpotrSerrat TOVTGOV o 
avOpaiTTLVos fi ios, KaOdtrep e^n-a^e; , 
Kvpiai 8 elfflv at /car aperr?^ cj/e p- 
7eicu rr)s ev$ai/J.ovias, at 8 tvavriai 
TOV tvavTiov , . . Trept owSe^ 7 a P 

epyccv /3e/3ato T7js cos irepl ras eVep- 
7ei as ras /car aper^v /xovt^corfpai 
7ap /ca) TCOV fTriffrf]p.cov avrai 80- 
Kovffiv elvai. 1101, a, 5 : &6\ios 
/j.ev ouSeVore yevoir tt,v 6 
ov /j.iiv [j.aKapi6s ye, av 
ri>xais TTfpnrecrr). ouSe TTOIK L\OS ye 
Kal evfj-erdpoXos : his happiness 
will be disturbed only by many 
grievous misfortunes, from which 
he will again recover only with 

3 Lams, v. 743, B ; Qorg. 508, 



valuable only as means to the former. 1 He even 
expressly says that since true self-love consists in the 
effort after higher goods, it does not hesitate for the 
sake of friends and country to sacrifice all outward 
advantage and even life itself. Yet in all such cases the 
highest reward that of the morally beautiful action- 
is reaped by the doer of it, since a great and beautiful 
action is of more value and affords a higher happiness 
than a long life which has accomplished nothing great. 2 
Similarly, he holds that it is better to suffer than to do 
wrong, for in the former case it is only our body 


EtU. i. 8, 1098, b, 12 : veve- 
uv Sr; rcav ayaO&v rpixfi, Kal 

TO, irepl 

Kiffra aya9d. Polit. vii. 1, 1323, 
a, 24 : the happy man must pos 
sess all three classes of goods ; 
the only question is, in what 
degree and proportion. In re 
spect of virtue, most people are 
very easily contented (TTJS aperrjs 
%X fLV iKavbv elvcu vo^i^ovcriv oiroff- 
ovovv) ; with riches, power, and 
honour, on the other hand, there 
is no satisfying them. We must 
point out to them, on Kr&vrai 
Kal fyvXarTovffiv ov ray operas rots 
6/cTos, aAA eKeiva ravrais, Kal rb 

virdpx*L rots rb -fjQos /mev Kal T)]V 
Sidvoiav KCKOO fJL nfJ.evois els t)7rep/3o- 

raj? \p-r\G (puiv, fv Se TOVTOIS 
e\\e nrov<TLv. Material posses 
sions, like every instrument, 
have a natural limit imposed by 
the purpose for which they are 
used; increased beyond this limit 
they are useless or mischievous ; 

spiritual goods, on the other 
hand, are valuable in proportion 
to their greatness. If the soul 
is of more value than the body 
and external things, the goods of 
the soul must be of more value 
than bodily and external goods. 
en Se TT/S i|/ux^) s evenev ravra 
Tre(j)VKv aipeTCi Kal 8e? irdvras 
atpelcrOa.!. rovs eu typovovvras, <xAA 
OVK eKeivcav eveKfV rrjv fyvX^V. The 
blessedness of the gods shows 
that happiness depends for its 
amount upon the degree of virtue 
and insight, c os ev5ai/j.wv (j.\v eari 
Kal /j.aKapi.os, 8t ovdev 8e TU>V 
f^wrepiKccv ayaOuv ctAAa Si a*/rbj/ 
avrbs Kal T(f Troids ris elvai T}\V 
<t>v<riv, and accordingly we dis 
tinguish evSat/j.ovla from evrvx ia. 

2 Eth.. ix. 8, 1169, a, 6 sqq., 
where, among other things (see 
especially the passage cited, p. 
132). it is said, 9 : ra /caAAi<rra 
Trpdrreiv Koivfj T Uv TT&VT etrj ra 
Seovra [?] Kal I5ia eKaffTCf ra peyi- 
ffra rS>v ayaQcav, efaep TJ aptrr] roi- 
ovr6v eariv. 31 : et/cdrcos 8)? So/ce? 
airovbaios elvai, avrl irdvrcav alpov- 


or property that suffers, in the latter it is our character. 1 
Aristotle thus keeps fast hold throughout of the principle 
with which he started in the investigation of the highest 
good namely, that happiness consists primarily and 
essentially in acting according to reason, or in the 
1 exercise of a perfected virtue. Other goods can claim, 
to be considered as good only suit rnodo : in so far as 
they are a natural product of this activity, like pleasure, 
or a means to its attainment, like outward and physical 
goods. Should, however, a case occur in which a choice 
must be made between the different goods, all others 
must give way before the moral and spiritual, since 
they alone are absolutely and unconditionally good. 2 

If, then, virtue is the essential condition of happi 
ness, the problem of Ethics is to investigate the nature 
of virtue and to exhibit its constituent parts ; 3 the 
question being of course confined to spiritual perfec 
tion. 4 Now this, like spiritual activity itself, is of a 

1 Eth.v. 15, 1138, a, 28: it is evSai/uovia fyvxys evepyeid TIS KCLT 

an evil both to suffer injustice aper^v reAe-ay, irepl dper??? eVi- 

wrong and 1o do it, the former (TK^TTT^OV Ta.xayapovTws av fieXTtov 

being an eAaTrov. the latter a KO.} irepl rrjs v8ai/j.ovtas Oeupi]- 

TrAeoj/ ex^tv TOV /J.eaov, but to do ( 

injustice is worse, as it alone is 4 By the word dper}) the 

/itera Kaicias. Greek meant, as is well known, 

- We have already seen this not only moral excellence but 

(p. 149), and shall find further every accomplishment or perfer- 

in his theory of virtue that Ari- tion that belonged to person or 

stotle admits only those as genu- thing. In this sense it is used 

ine virtues which seek their end by Aristotle, e.g. Mrtaph. v. 16, 

in the moral activity itself ; Etli. 1021, b, 20 sqq. ; Etli. ii. 5 init. 

iv 2 init.: al Se KOT dperV and 2 }ass ^ m - Here, however, 

7rpa|eis KaXou Kal TOV /caAou eVe/ca where we are dealing with human 

. . . 6 5e 8i5oi>s . . . UT? TOI) KaAoG happiness it can only be a ques- 

eVeK-a aAAa 5ta TZJ/ &\\yi> atriai/, tion of spiritual excellences ; 

oy/c t\fv8fpios dAA aAAos TIS faQy- Eth. Hid. 1 102, a, 13 : irepl dpervjs 

crfTai. 5e e Tntr/ceTTTe o;/ avOpcairivris SrjAoi/ 

3 Etli. i. 13 : :-ir\ S eVrlr r) OTI. Kal yap TayaObv avdpdnrivov 



twofold nature : intellectual ($iavoj)TLKr)) and moral 
(f)8iKrj). The former relates to the activity of reason 
as such, the latter to the control of the irrational 
elements of the. so.ul by the ration al . The one has its 
seat in thought, the other in will. 1 Ethics has to do 
with the latter. 2 

2. Moral Virtue. 

To aid us in the investigation of the nature of 
Moral Virtue, Aristotle begins by indicating where 
we must look for virtue in general. It is not an 
emotion or a mere faculty, but a definite quality of 
mind (efts-). 3 Emotions as such are not the object of! 

v evSatfJ-Ovtav a.vQp<a- 
ir(vt]V. apfTriv Se \eyo/j.ev avOpoj- 
TTivr)v ov rrjv rov <rca/jt.aTOs, aAAa Trjv 
rr)s tyvx^s ical rijv evfijti/uLoviav 5e 

1 After discussing (Eth. i. 13) 
the difference between the ra 
tional and the irrational element 
in the soul, and distinguishing 
two kinds of the rational, that 
to which rationality attaches in 
a primitive, and that to which it 
attaches in a derivative, sense, 
thought and desire (see p. Ill, 
n. 4, supra), Aristotle continues, 
1108, a, 8 : Siopi^rai 8e /cal TJ dpe-r^ 
Kara rr\v Siatyopav ravrriv Xiyo^v 
yap avrcov ras /u.ev fiiavo-nriKas ras 
Se i}9iKas, aocpiay /mtv /col ffvv<riv 

He returns to this distinction at 
the beginning of Eth. ii. 1, and 
vi. 2. Ethical virtue is thus 
regarded as the product of desire 
ruled by reason, i.e. of will (see 
p. 114, snpra), a view of it 

which is consistently maintained 

2 This is obvious, not only 
from the name of this science 
and from isolated statements 
which describe irpa^is as its sub 
ject, e.g. those referred to p. 181, 
11. 3, and Etli. ii. 2, 1104, a, 1, 
but from the plan of the JWco- 
wackean Etliics as a whole, 
which must have been different 
had the object been the propor 
tionate treatment of dianoetic 
and ethical virtue. On ihis 
point and on the discussion of 
the dianoetic virtues in the sixth 
book, see infra. 

3 The relation of these three 
to one another is explained Eth. 
ii 4 imt. : eVel ovv ra ev rrj tyvxy 
yii>6/*vu rpia eVrl, iraQt] 8vvd.ij.eis 
eets, TOVTCDV kv ri eiVj ^ apery) 

Se TrdOr) n. 

(f)6(3ov, Opznos, 
[micros, Trodov, \ 

as ira6r]TiKol 


, 6Aa?s ols 


praise or blame. In themselves they cannot make us 
either good or bad. They are involuntary, whereas 
virtue presupposes an activity of the will. They 
indicate certain movements : virtue and vice, on the 
other hand, are permanent states. Nor can a mere 
faculty be the object of moral judgment. Faculty is 
innate ; virtue and vice are acquired. 1 These differ 
finally from a mere faculty as well as from science (and 
art) in this, that while the latter embrace both of two 
opposites, the former refer exclusively to one : 2 the 
man who has the power and knowledge of good has the 
power and knowledge of evil also, but he who wills the 
good cannot also at the same time will the evil. It is 
equally necessary, on the other hand, to distinguish 
virtue from mere external action as such. He who 
would act morally must not only do the right, but he 
must do it in the right frame of mind. 3 It is this, and 
not the outward effect, that gives to the action its moral 
worth. 4 It is just this which makes virtue and moral 

olov /ca0 as Svvarol opyiaOrivai r) avrd TTCOS ^X^i 8i/ca/a>s T) (rw<f)p6v(as 

\virr)6f)vai /) fXefiffai, eejs 8e /cafl Trpdrrerai, aAAa Kal eav 6 trpdrrwv 

as irpbs TO. irdQt] e^o/j.ei eu 7) KO.KWS TTUS ex cav sparry, b, 5 : TO. /mev 

On e|ts cf. p. 285, n. 3, sujtra. ovv irpdy/j,ara Si/cata Kal cruxppova 

1 Ibid. 1105, b, 28sqq., ending \eyerai, orav y roiavra ola Uv 6 

with the words: o TL /LLCV ovv earl SIKCUOS T) o cr<i><pp(av -rrpa^iev SIKCUOS 

Tea yivei f] aper^j, e^Tjrat, Cf. C. 5e Kal truxppcav early ov% 6 ravra 

1, 1103, b, 21 sq. TrpdTTwv, aAAa Kal 6 OVTW irpar-rcav 

~ J?tk. v. 1, 1129, a, 11 : ouSe us ol SiKaiot Kal ol (rdafypoves Trpdr- 

yap rbv avrbv exet rpoirov ciri re rovviv. vi. 13, 1144, a, 13 sqq. 

rwv eVjo TTj^uco;/ Kal vi>a[j.e(av Kal eVi Aristotle accordingly distin- 

ruv e ewi/. $vi>a/ yap Kal guishes between the just charac- 

Tri(TTr*i/j.r) So/ce? r&v evavriwv T) avrrj ter and the just act, ibid. vi. JO, 

elvai (see p. 224, n. 3, SVA/;? ), ets S inlt, et al. (see below \ 
T) tvavria. r<av tvavriwv ov, olov a?rb 4 JMd. iv. 2, 1120, b, 7 : ov 

rijs vyieias ov irpdrreraira evavria, yap eV rq TrA^et ruiv SiSo/uevcav rb 

aAAa ra vyieiva fj.6vov. eXevQepiov. aAA sv rfj rov Si86vros 

3 Etli. ii. 3, 1105,* a, 28: ra e|et, OI/TT? Se Kara rty ovaiav 
5e /cara ras aperas yiv6/j.eva OVK eav 


insight so hard : that we are dealing here, not with 
particular actions, but with the general character of the 
actor. 1 

Aristotle defines this character more accurately as 
a character of the will. In so doing he defines the 
limits of the moral sphere in both directions, distin 
guishing moral virtue?, which has to do with action, from 
mere natural and therefore non-moral disposition on 
the one hand, and from mere knowledge which has no 
reference to human action on the other. The founda 
tion and presupposition of morality lies in certain 
natural qualities. In order to be able to act morally, 
one must first be a man with a certain psychological 
and physical constitution 2 and with a natural capacity 
for virtue ; 3 for every virtue presupposes certain 
natural qualities ($>voriKal sgsis), definite impulses and 
inclinations in which the moral qualities already to a 

certain extent reside. 4 This natural disposition, how- 

1 Hid. v. 13 init. : ol 5 av- he might indeed perform, aAAa 

I BpooTTOi ( eauroTs otovrai eli cu rb rb SeiXaiveu/ teal Tb dSt/ceTz/ ov 

II aSifceu/, Sib ical Tb SiKaiov zlvai Tb ravra iroizlv fffrl, TT\^V Kara 
II pqSiov. TO 5 OVK eo~Tiv avyyv- (ruyUjSejS^K^?, aAAa rb wSl e^orra 
I fffQai fiff yap rrj rov yziTovos Kal ravra iroitiv. Cf. p. 116. 

I 7ruTa|ai TI)V 7rA7](TiW KOI Savi/ai rfj - Polit. vii. 1?, 1332, a, 38. 

I x e r T ^ apyvpiov paSiov Kal eir 3 JZtli. ii. 1, 1103, a, 23: OUT 

|| avrols, aAAa rb <iSi e^oj/ras ravra apa <pvfft ovre irapa (piHTiv eyyi- 

I iroitlv ovre pdSiov OUT eV avro is. vovrai al apeTal, aAAa iretyvKOffi [lev 

I 6/j.oitos Se Kal Tb yv&vai TO. SiKOia rjfjt.1v Se^aaOai auras, reAetouyUeVoiS 

j Kal TO. aSuca ovSev o iovTai aofybv 5e 8ta TOV edovs. Polit. ibid. : 

I eli/at, OTL Trepl &v ol v6/j.oi \4yovffiv dyaOot ye Kal cnrovfia ioi yiyvovTai 

ov xaAe7r5^ vvievat. aAA ou raOr dia Tpicav. TO, Tpia Se ravra effn 

I ecrri TO. 5i/caia aAA r) Kara (TUyUjSe- <pv<ns 0os \6yos. 

I &riKbs, aAAa ircas irpaTT6[J.eva Kal 4 Eth. vi. 13, 1144, b, 4 : iraffi 

TTOJS ve(j.6fJLva St/coto. To know yap So^e? e/cao-ra TWV r\Q&v vtrap- 

I this is not an easy matter. On x eiv ( j ) ^ creL Jrcas Ka ^ 7"P Si^oiot /cai 

|; the same ground Aristotle adds (raxppoviKol Kal aj/SpeTot Kal raAAa 

I/that the just man cannot act ex/"- V *v0i/s * K y^v^rrjs. (M. 

If unjustly. Particular outward acts Mor. i. 35, 1197, b, 38, ii. 3, 1199, 



ever, is not yet moral. It is found, not only in children, 
but even in the lower animals. 1 When, therefore, 
Aristotle speaks of physical virtues, he expressly dis 
tinguishes these from virtue in the proper sense of 
the word, 2 which consists in the union of natural 
impulse with rational insight and its subordination to 
it. 3 Natural disposition and the- operation of natural 
impulses do not depend upon ourselves, whereas virtue 
is in our own power. The former are innate in us ; the 
latter is gradually acquired by practice. 4 Aristotle 
carries this principle of excluding all involuntary moods 
and inclinations from the moral sphere so far as to 
extend it to the earlier stages of the moral life itself. 
He not only excludes emotions such as fear, anger, 
pity, &c., from the sphere of praise and blame, 5 but lie 

b, 38, c. 7, 1206, b, 9.) Cf. Polit. yap TWV Qfaei OVTUV a\\us e 0/< 
vii. 7, on the unequal distribution 
of moral and intellectual capacity 
in the different nations. 

II. An. i. 1, 488, b, 12, viii. fvcpyeias dTroSi Soyuei/. Sight, for 

UTI bcra fjikv (pvcrei ri/uuv irapa- 
ai, TO.S 8wa,uets TOVTUV irp6- 
vaTepov 8e ras 

1, ix. 1 ; see p. 38, n. 1, supra] 
Etli. Una. ; see n. 3. 

example, we do not receive by 
perception : it is the antecedent 

Kvpiws aya8bv ^ Kvpia condition of perception. TCLS 5 

], Etll. 

3 Hid. 1144, b, 8: Kal yap 
cri Kal 6r t pioLS 0.1 (pvcrucal vtrdp- 
e|eis, aAA avev vuv /3Aa/3epcu 

fyaivovTai oiiaa 

icTXvpy iivev ityecos KIVOVJJL^VU> (T 

j8cuj/et (rfyaXXeffQai iV^upais 5ta 

jU?7 ^X lv fytv, ovTca 

eav Se AajSr? vow, eV 

5m</)epet. r) 5 e|is 6fj.oia ovaa TOT 


4 Eth. ii. 


: we become virtuous by 
moral, vicious by immoral, action, 
x. 10, 1179, b, 20 (referring, 
doubtless, as also does i. 10 init., 
to PLATO S Meno, 70, A, 99, E) : 
yivzcrQai 8 ayaOovs otovTai ol fji^v 
<pvo~ei, ol 8 H6ei, ol 8e SiSav?;. T\> 
fj-ff ovv TT)S <f)i>o~ea>s 8f}Aoi/ ws OVK 
rifuv virdpx*i, aAAa 8/a Tivas 

9T }). Qe as aiTias TO?S &s d\r]6u>s evTvx*- 

1, 1103, a, 17: ^8 ariv v-rrdpxei. On voluntariness 
as characteristic of moral virtue, 
iUd. ii. 4, 1106, a, 2, iii. 1 init. ; 
c. 4 init. and p. 115 sq., supra. 
5 Eth. ii. 4, ]105, b, 28; see 

Kal Tovvofj-a 

v atrb TOV tdovs. e ov 
OTI ov5e/J.ta TUV T)6iKwv 

ovdfv p. 154, n. 1, supra. 


Iraws a distinction between continence (syKpareia) and 
drtue, incontinence and vice in the stricter sense. 1 In 
ike manner he regards modesty rather as an emotion 
han as a virtue. 2 In all these states of mind Aristotle 
ails to find the universality of consciousness action 
Droceeding from a principle. He holds that nothing is 
noral which is not done with rational insight, nothing 
mmoral which is not done in defiance of it. 

While virtue is impossible without insight, insight 
md morality are not identical. As wjll in general 
consists of the union of reason and desire, 3 the moral 
quality of the will must be treated under the same 
category. Moral virtue is concerned with pleasure and 
pain, since it has to do with actions and emotions which 
3ause these feelings : pleasure and pain are the primary 
source of desire, 4 and the criterion of all our actions, 5 

1 Ibid. vii. 1, 1145, a, 17, 35 ; pain, and for this very reason are 
Md. c. 9, 1150, b, 35, 1151, a, 27. to be counteracted by punish- 
Vloderation, according to these ments ; iarpeiai yap rtves *l<riv, at 
massages, is a <r-7rou5aa eis, but 5eiaTpe?cu5ia rut evavr^v Tre^vKam, 
lot ail apeTT/. yiveaOai . . . inr6K^irai apa r\ ^of7) 

2 Ibid. IV. 15, ii. 7, 1108, a, eivai f) Toiaint] irepl rjSovas Kal 
: it is praiseworthy, indeed, AuTras r<av fieXTiaruv irpaKTiK)], 77 

not a virtue ; it is a ytieoroTTjs 5e Kaicia Tovvavr iov . . . Tpiuv yap 

tv rots Trddecri. ovruv T&V tls raj cupeVets Kal rpiuv 

3 On the will, see pp. 113 sq. rwv els TO.S (pvyas, KaAoC <ry^e- 
and p. 126. povros r^/Seos, Kal Tpiiav TU>U tvavTiw, 

4 On this cf. also pp. 107 sqq. alffxpov fSha&epov Av-n-npav, Trepl 

5 Etli. ii. 2, 1104, b, 8: Trepl irdvra /j.ev Tavra 6 ayados KaropQ- 
f}fiovas yap Kal Xviras 4crrlv 77 T)0i/c>? uTLK6s eariy 6 Se KaK^s a^.apTr]T IK&S , 

TTj 8ta juei/ yap rr)V ^ovr t v TO. /j-dhurra 5e irepl rrjv y$ovi}v KOIVT] 
q>av\a irparro^v 5ta Se Trjv XvTrt\v re -yap CCI/TTJ TOLS (,u>ois Kal TTCKTI, 

( aperai flffi irepl irpdeis Kzl Trddr], Kal yap rb Ka\bv Kal rb 

T\ SeTrddet Kalird<ryTrpdieTreTai r/5i/ <paiVerai . . . Kavov 

vfy Kal AUTTTJ, Kal Si<i TOUT av Ka\ ras irndeis, ol /uaAAoy oi 8 

r) dpeTT? Trepl ^ovas Kal AuTray. TJTTOC, ySovfj Kal \virri . . . ware 
A11 moral failings spring from . . . irepl ijSovas Kal \viras iraaa 

desire for pleasure and dislike of T? irpay/m-areia Kal rrj apery Kal rr) 


to which we refer in a certain sense even the motives 
of utility and right. 1 Aristotle, therefore, controverts 
the Socratic doctrine that virtue consists in knowledge. 2 
His objection to this view is, broadly speaking, that it 
neglects the irrational element of the soul, the patho 
logical side of virtue. 3 When he proceeds to a closer 
investigation of its fundamental principle, he shows that 
it rests on false presuppositions. Socrates had main 
tained that it was impossible to do evil knowing that it 
was evil and hurtful ; 4 Aristotle shows, on the contrary, 
that to say this is to overlook the distinction between 
purely theoretic and practical knowledge. For, in the 
first place, he remarks, we must distinguish between the. 
possession of knowledge as mere skill, and knowledge 
as an activity. I may know that a certain action is 
good or bad, but this knowledge may in the particular 
case remain latent, and in this way I may do evil with 
out being conscious at the moment that it is evil. But, 

6 fjifv yap v rovrois It must be taken, however, in 

Xpu>/jievos ayaOlis effrat, 6 8e KO.K&S the light of what is said above, 

KO.K&S. II. 5, 1106, b, 16 : \4yu p. 149, n. 3. The thought of 

5e rV 7?0i/c77i/ [dperr?!/] OUTTJ yap the good operates upon the will 

earn irepl iraQr) Kal -jvpd^eis. Ibid. 1. through the medium of feeling, 

24,iii.linit. (seep. I 17, n. 2, sup. ), the good presenting itself 

vii. 12, 1152, b, 4, 1172, b, 21; x. as something desirable and 

7 ; see p. 143, n. 1, supra. Phys. affording pleasure and satisfac- 

vii. 3, 247, a, 23 : Kal TO oXov rfy tion. 

r}9iK^)v dperV & rj^ovais Kal AUTTCUS 2 Etli. vi. 13, 1144, b, 17 sqq. 

eZVcu (rvfj.fte^riKfV 3) yap /car vii. 5, 1146, b, 31 sqq. cf. C. 3 

evepyetav rb TTJS rjdovris fy 5ta init. x. 10, 1179, b, 23; End. i. 5, 

p.vt]p.T]v 3) airb TTJS eATri Sos. Pol. 1216, b, vii. 13 fin.] M. Mor. i. 

viii. 5, 1340, a, 14. 1, 1 182, a, 15, c. 35, 1198, a, 10. 

1 This statement (Etk. ii. 2 : 3 As may be concluded from 

see preced. n.~) might seem sur- the statements in Etli. vi. 13, c, 

prising, as Aristotle draws a very 2, 1139, a, 31, and especially M. 

clear distinction between plea- M. i. 1. Cf. p. 157, n. 5, supra. 
sure and the good (v. p. 140 sq.)- 4 See Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 118 sq. 


in the second place, concerning the content of this 
knowledge, we have to distinguish between the general 
principle and its practical application. For if every 
action consists in bringing a particular case under a 
general law, 1 it is quite conceivable that the agent, 
while he knows and presents to himself the moral law 
in its universality, yet may neglect the application of it to 
the particular case and permit himself to be here deter 
mined by sensual desire instead of by moral principle. 2 
While, therefore, Socrates had asserted that no one is 
voluntarily wicked, Aristotle maintains, on the contrary, 

that man is. master of his actions, and even makes this 
1 A .v-c.^ *_>"> _ 

voluntariness of action the distinguishing mark of the 
practical as opposed to the theoretic life. 3 In like 
manner practical activity is distinguished from artistic. 
In art the chief thing is knowledge or skill to produce ^ 
certain works : in conduct, it is will. In the former the 
object is that the production should be of a certain 
character ; in the latter the essential thing is that the 
agent himself should be so. There the man who errs 
intentionally is the better man ; here it is the man who 
errs unintentionally. 4 

Moral activity, then, according to Aristotle, 5 con- i 
sists in the union of the merely nataral activity of / 
impulse with the rational activity of insight, or, more / 

1 Cf. p. 110, n. 1, supra. 183, n. 2, and p. 107, n. 2, supra. 

2 Etk. vii. 5, which deals 3 See pp. 115 sqq. supra. 
primarily with excess. Another 4 Eth. ii. 3 (see i. 6), vi. 5, 
characteristic of action as dis- 1140, b, 22; Metaph.^i. 1,1025, 
tinguished from knowledge b, 22. 

which, however, Aristotle does 5 Eth. vi. 5, 1140, b, 22 cf. v. 

not mention in this connection i. 1129, a, 83 MetapTi. v. 29 fin. 
has already been mentioned, p. 


accurately, in the subordination to reason of that part 
of the soul which while itself irrational is yet suscep 
tible of rational determination namely, desire. 1 The 
ultimate source of moral action is the rational desire or 
will, and the most essential property of will is the 
freedom with which it decides between sensual and 
rational impulses. 2 Morality, however, is only perfect/? 
when freedom itself has become a second nature./ 
Virtue is a permanent quality of the will, a habit 
acquired by free activity : morality has its roots in 
custom, rjOos in sOos 3 If we ask, therefore, what is 
the origin of virtue, the answer is that it comes neither 
by nature nor by instruction, but by practice. For 
while natural disposition is the necessary condition, and 
ethical knowledge the natural fruit of virtue, yet for 
its essential character as a definite bent of the will 
virtue is wholly dependent on continued moral activity, 4 

1 Etli. i. 13 ad fin. . cupovp.evos Si avra, rb 5e rpirov Kal 

2 See also what is said on this eav /3e/3cucos Kal d^raKiv^rcas 
subject p. 115 sq. ^X wv irpdrrrj . . . irpbs Se rb rets 

3 Seep. 153 andp.!56,n. 4, s?/>. aperds [sc. e;e/i>] rb eiSeVat 

4 After showing that one be- /niKpbv r) ouSev itrxuet, TO 5 d\\a 
comes moral only by doing moral ou /jLtKpbv dAAd rb irav Swarai, 
actions, Etll. ii. 1 (see p. 156, n. fiirep e: TOU Tro\\a.Kis irpdrreiv rd 
4), Aristotle asks whether we do SiKaiaKal craxppova TrepryiVeTat. X. 
not in making this assertion 10, 1179, b, 23 (after the words 
involve ourselves in a circle, since quoted p. 156, n. 4) : 6 5e \6yos Kal 
in order to do moral actions y SiSaxv ^TTOT OVK eV oVacrij/ 
we must apparently be already Iffxvy, dAAa Se r; TrpoSLipydadai 
moral ; and answers that it is TO?S eflecrt T}\V rov aKpoarov ^/vx hf 
not so : in a work of art it is -jrpbs rb /caA<is x a l P eiJ/ Ka l v- -ffe iv, 
sufficient that it should itself be cocnrep -y^v T}\V Opzfyovcrai rb 
of a certain character, ra 5e Kara oW^ta ou yap at/ aKoixreie \6yov 
rds aperas yivo^va OVK lav avrd dirorpeTrovros ou8 3 au O-UI/CI TJ 6 Kara 
ircas %XP SiKaicas ^ crcacppovws irpdr- Trddos u>f rbv 8 ovrws exovra Trcas 
rerai, dAAa Kal edy d irpdrrow irws olov re /u.traTre LO ai ; oAcus T ou 

rpdrrr), irp&rov yuev edj/ elSws, Sowe? \6yq> uTret/ceii/ rb irdQos dAAa 
edi/ Trpoaipov/j.svos, Kal if pa- &ia- Se? 5}) rb ^Bos irpovirdpxeiv nus 


by which that which was at first matter of free resolve 
becomes an unfailing certainty of character. 1 Even the 
comprehension of ethical doctrine is conditioned, accord- L 
ing to Aristotle, by practice in virtuous action : he who 
would listen to a moral discourse must be already well 
practised in virtue. The moral will must precede the 
knowledge of morals. 2 Virtue, therefore, always pre 
supposes a certain degree of spiritual maturity. Chil 
dren and slaves have no virtue in the strict sense of 
the word, for they have no will, or as yet only an 
imperfect one, and young men are unfit for moral , L^ \ 
philosophy, because they still lack stability. 3 H fr ^* 

Hitherto we have been concerned merely with the 
form of moral conduct : we as yet know nothing of its 
contents. Virtue we have found to be a moral quality 
of the will. We have now to ask what quality of the \ 
will is moral ? To this Aristotle answers first quite 
generally : the quality, by means of which man not 
only becomes himself good, but rightly performs his 
proper activity. 4 Right activity he further defines as 

ot/ceiov TTJS apeTTjs, artpyov TO KaX^iv Aristotle differs from him merely 

Svffx^p^vov rb al^xpov. Some- in distinguishing- the higher 

what more is conceded to in- virtue of the philosopher from 

struction Polit. vii. 13,1338,a, 38 that of habit, while Plato limits 

sqq. Here also tyixris eOos \6yos moral virtue to this source, 

are mentioned as the three sources l Ibid. ii. 3 (see preced. n.): 

of virtue ; of the last, however, it it is aproperty of virtue /Qe/3cuo>s Kal 

is remarked : TroAAa yap irapa a/neraKLvr]rcas ^x eiv - Cf. Zte Mem. 

TOVS fdiff^ovs Kal T}\V fyiHTiv Trpdr- c. 2, 452, a. 27 : (iiffTrep yap fyvffis 

ffi Sia TOJ/ \6yov, eav irtiaQwffiv 7787? TO e0os, and p. 116, n. 3, supra. 

\ws X iv fcXriov. The di- 2 Etli. i. 1, 2, 1094, h, 27 sqq. 

vergence, however, is unim- 1095, a, 4, vi. 13, 1144, b, 30. 

portant. Plato, of whose Ian- 3 Ibid. i. 1 with the words : 

guage we are forcibly reminded Siatyepei 8 ovQzv vzos T^IV TiXiKiav 

in the above passages, had taught $) TO r)0os veap6s : c. 10, 1100, a, 1, 

that moral habit must precede in- Polit. i. 13, 1260, a, 12 sqq. 31. 

sight (see Ph.d. 6V.i.pp. 532 sq.); 4 Ibid. ii. 5: pt]r4ov ovv on 




! that which avoids the extremes of excess and defect, 
A \ and thus preserves the proper mean : l and conversely, 
wrong activity is that which deviates on one side or the 
other from this boundary line. 2 In further determining 
the nature and position of the proper mean, we have to 
take into account, not merely the object of our action, 
but, what is much more important, our own personal 
nature. 3 The problem of morality is to strike the 
proper mean relating to ourselves : in feeling and action 
neither to overstep or fall short of the limit set by the 
character of the agent, the object and the circum 
stance^. 4 Aristotle admits, indeed, that this description 

iraffa aper??, ov ctv ?j aper/;, avro re 
e *X OV cnroreAe? KCU rb epyov 
avrov ev airooi(ico~LV . . . et 8)j TOUT 

67Ti TrdvTUV OlirWS ^(, Kal 7] rOV 

avOpuirov aperr) e lf] av e |(s a< ys 
ayadbs avQpuTros yiverai Kal ac/> r/s 
cu rb kavrov epyov a7ro5c6crej, 

1 Ibid. 1106, b, 8: el 5^ iraffa 
eTntTTrj/uTj oirrco rb Hpyov eu e TnTeAe?, 
irpbs TO fjifffov f}\4irovffa Kal fls 
rovro fayovcra ra Hpya (. . . cos TTJS 


e5 TTJS 5e 

aKpifietfTepa Kal afitivtov 
earlv, lacnrep Kal ?; (pi/ffis, rov ^teVou 
&i/ ei rj o-Toxao"Ti/c^. 

2 Aristotle remarks that either 
Hie virtue or the vice have not 
unfrequently no name to desig 
nate them in common language ; 
Etli. ii. 7, 1107, b, 1, 7, 30, 1108, 

a, 5,- 16, iii. 10, 1115, b, 25, c. 11, 
1119, a, 10, iv. 1, 1119, b, 34, c. 
10 sq., 1125, b, 17, 26, c. 12, 1126, 

b, 19, c. 13, 1127, a, 14. 

3 Ibid. 1106, a, 26: eV iravr\ 
8/j (rwe;e? /ecu SiatptrcS tffn Xafitlv 
rb /jLev TrAerof rb 5 (\aTrov rb 
iffov, Kal T avra 7) Kar avrb rb 

3) Trpbs rj/mas rb 8 tffov 
virp/3o\ris Kal e J AAen|/ea S. 
Se rov ^aev Trpdy/j-aros /me<rov 
TO tffov airex 01 ^ ^Karepov ruv 
aKD jov, oirep fffrlv ej/ Kal ravrbv 
iraffi, irpbs ii/uas Se o fJ.r t TS -TrAeo^a^et 
/j-Tire eAAe/Tret. TOVTO 8 oi/_\; e^ oi<5e 
Tai/Tbi Traaiv. If, for example, 
two cutlets are too little food, 
while ten are too much, the 
/xeVoi/ Kara TO irpay/jia would be 
six : this amount, however, might 
be too much for one, too little for 
another : ovrw 8/7 iras tTruirr^wv 
rrjv vvepfioXTiv Kal rrjv eAAenJ/ii 
(pevyei, rb Se ^VjTe? Kal rov6 
aipe irai, ^taov Se ov rb rov Trpdy- 
/j.aros dAAa T^ Trpbs Tj/j-as. 

4 Hid. 1106, b, 16 (after the 
words quoted inn. 1, supra) : \tyta 
5e rTjV 7]OiKr]f [apeT^] avrt] ydp 
e o-Ti TTfpl Trdd-r] Kal Trpd^eis, eV Se 
TouTOis effrlv uTrep^SoA^ Kal eXXeityis 
Kal rb ytteVoj/. oiov Kal <po/3r)0rivai 
ical Oappri(rai Kal eTridv/jLrjffai Kal 
Kal eAeyjtrai Kal o Aais 
Kal XvirriQrivai o~n Kal 
/j.a\\ov Kal ijTroi/, Kal a/j-tyorepa 
OVK eu TO 8 oVe Se? Kal e (^> ols Kal 
irpbs ovs Kal ov eVeKa Kai u>s 8el, 


is still a very general one, and that we have to look 
closer if we would discover the proper mean, arid with 
it the right criterion of action (the opOos \6yoi) ; l but 
he can only here refer us to practical insight, whose 
business it is to mark out what is right in particular 
cases ; and he therefore defines virtue as that quality 
of the will which preserves the mean suitably to our 
nature, conformably to a reasonable definition, such as 
the man of insight would give. 2 

From this point of view Aristotle goes on to deal 
with the particular virtues, without any attempt to 
deduce them from any one definite principle. Even the 
suggestions towards such a deduction which were to be 
found in his own theory as above stated, he left on one 
side. Seeing that he had investigated the idea of 
Happiness, and had found in Virtue the essential 
means thereto, he might have made an attempt to define 
the various kinds of activity which enable us to reach 
this end, and so have sought to arrive at the main kinds 
of Virtue. He does, however, nothing of the kind. 
Even where he gives us certain indications of the points 
of view from which he deals with the order of the 

,ueV<n/ Te Kal apurrov, oTrep eo-Tt rijs jueo-OTTjro^, as ^era|u Qauev e/i/at 

dpeTTjs. dpo icas Sf /cat irepl ras irpd- rrjs vireppohfjs Kal rr,s eAAffyeajs, 

|ets farlv u7rep/3oA}/ Kal eAAet^ts ovcras Kara r6v opfloV \6yov. eo-rl 

Kal TO peffov .... ^eo-orTjs ris apa 5e 


fo-rlv r) apery, (TTOxa<rriKr] ye o5o"a ov9h 8e trace s . . . Sto 5e? Kal -rrepl 
rov n4ffov. Of. foil. n. ras rrjs 

Etk. vi. 1 : we ought to aXrtQes eli/cu TOUT ftpqfjifvov, aAAa 

choose, as before remarked (ii. 5) Kal 5ta>pto>teW rls T early 6 

the fifcroi/, not the virep/3o\7] or 6p6bs Aoyoy Kal rovrov ris opos. 
eAAei^is_Tb Se fietroif evrlv is 6 * Ibid. ii. 6 init. : tffnv apa $ 

\6yos o opebs \eyfi. In every- ape T ^ e|ts irpoaiperiK^ eV ^(ror^n 

thing e o-Tt TIS (T/coTrbs ?rpbs &j/ airo- olffa rfj irp6s T), wptcriufvr} Ao-yy 

^AeVwt/ 6 TOI/ \6yov ex wi/ firirelvei Kal ws \v 6 (pptvipos 6pi<Tiei>< 
Kal aviqcnv, Kai ris effrlv dpos ruv 

M 2 



ethical virtues in his treatment of them, these points of 
view are themselves in no way based on any principle. 1 

1 After defining virtue as 
. \ uff6Tf]s, Aristotle continues, Etli. 
ii. 7 : from the general statement 
we must turn to particular in 
stances of the principle. Trepl \*.\v 
ovv <$>6fiovs Ka\ 6dppr) avSpeia 
p.^ff6rf]s .... Trepi ySovas 5e Kal 
\viras [those, i.e., as is here 
hinted, and definitely stated in 
iii. 13, 1117, b, 27sqq. of a^ and 
7et 0"ts] Gbitypoavvf] .... Trepl Se 

; to these belongs also 
irepl Se TL^V Kal 
aXo^vxla, and the 
corresponding anonymous vir 
tue the virepfioX)) of which is 
ambition, eori Se Kal Trepl opyriv 
. . . ju,eo-oT7js, which he calls 
TrpaoTTjs. Furthermore, there are 
three ^eo-oTTjres which relate to 
Koivuvia. \6yuv Kal Trpc|ecoi/, one to 
TO aXr)6s in these (a\7j0em), the 
two others to TO ySv, the one 
(p. 169, n. 6, infra), eV TrcuSta, 
the other (p. 169, n. 4, infra), 
eV -naff i TOLS Kara TOV fiiov. Of 
bravery and ffwcppoa-vvri it is 
further remarked, iii. 13j SOKOVCTI 
yap ra>v aX6yuv /xepwv avrai eli/ai 
at aperai. This classification, 
however, is a loose one, nor is 
any clearly defined principle 
discoverable in it. HACKER S 
attempt in his interesting essay 
(Das EintJicllungs- und Anord- 
Hungsprincip der moralischen Tu- 
gendreihe in der nikomackischen 
Ethik, Berl. 1863) to show that 
Aristotle is guided by such a 
principle imports, apparently, 
more into his account than is 
admissible. According to this 
view, Aristotle intended to indi 
cate in the first place those 

virtues which consist in the sub- j 
ordination of the lower instincts 
that are concerned with the 
mere defence and maintenance 
of life : bravery the virtue of 
Qvfjibs, temperance the virtue of 
fTTL9vfj.ia. The second group of 
virtues (liberality, love of honour, 
gentleness, and justice, which is 
placed last for special reasons) 
have for the sphere of their 
exercise political life in time of 
peace, and the part which the 
individual takes in affairs of 
state, as well as the positions he 
occupies in it ; the third the 
amenity of life, r6 eS gfjv. But it 
is impossible to show that Ari 
stotle founds his classification of i 
the virtues upon this scheme. 
In the first place, the reason 
which he himself gives for con 
necting bravery and self- 
command with one another is j 
that they stand for the virtues of 
the irrational parts of a man; 
this is only to say (unless, with 
KAMSAUER, we reject the words 
altogether) that it is suitable 
to discuss self-command along 
with bravery because it has 
been customary since the time 
of Plato to name these two 
together as the virtues of 6v/ 
and TO eViflujUTyTiKov respectively, 
Had he been governed by those 
principles of classification which 
Hacker ascribes to him, he must 
have classed TrpaoTrjs along with 
bravery. If the latter is the 
subordination of the instinct of 
self, the former is (iv. 11) the; 
/xeo-oV7js irepi opyds : but anger 
springs from the instinct of 
revenge, which, like bravery, had 



There is therefore nothing for us to do bat to set out, 
without reference to any exact logical connection, what 
Aristotle has himself said as to those virtues which he 

The preliminary proposition, that there are more ( 

indeed, is Aristotle from seeing 
in bravery only the yuecrdVTjs of an 
animal instinct, in anger that is 
properly directed and controlled 
that of a higher instinct which 
is concerned with civil life, that 
he declares (Etli. iii. 11, 1116, b, 
23-1117, a, 9): when men 
despise clanger from anger or 
desire for revenge (opyi^o/j.fvoi, 
Ti/j.wpov/j.evoi^) they can no more be 
called brave than an animal when 
it rushes in rage \_Sia TUV QV/J.OV, 
which here hardly differs from 
opy$~] upon the huntsman who 
has wounded it. Nor does the 
position assigned to the virtues 
which are concerned with the 
use of money admit of being- 
explained on the ground that 
riches always secure a certain 
social station to its possessor 
(HACKER, p. 16), for there is no 
allusion in Aristotle to this point 
of view, although in the case of 
/uiya\OTrp7rta (not, however, of 
e Aeu0e/HOT77s) mention is made, 
among other things, of expendi 
ture for public purposes. Tf, on 
the other hand, this had been the 
principle of classi(ication,bravery 
in war would have found a place 
in this group. Finally, it cannot 
be said that the third group con 
cerns TO eu ($v any more closely 
than the other two ; for e5 fjv in 
the Aristotelian sense, self- 
command, liberality and justice, 
are certainly more important 
than T() r)du eV TrcuSm. 

its seat in Qv^s (iv. 11, 1126, a, 
19 sqq. ; Rliet. ii. 2 init. 12, 1389, 
a, 26 : Kal avSpeiorepoi [ot ve ot] 
6v/j.w5LS yap . . . ovre yap opyi- 
6/j.evos ovSels (po&e iTai, cf. p. 583, 
2), and which, like it (Etli. iii. 
11, 1116, b, 23 sqq.), we share 
with the brutes. Anger and 
bravery, therefore, are so closely 
related that it is often difficult 
to distinguish them from one 
another (Eth. ii. 9, 1109, b, 16 
sqq., iv. 11, 1126, b, 1, cf. Rliet. ii. 
5, 1383, b, 7), and in Rliet. ii. 8, 
1385, b, 30, anger is even called 
a irdOos avSplas. If, notwith 
standing this relationship, the 
yiico-oTTjs irepl rets opyas is said to 
belong to a different group of 
virtues from bravery, on the 
ground that the latter springs 
only from the instinct to pre 
serve the vegetative life, while 
anger is concerned chiefly with 
injuries inflicted upon the 
honour of a citizen (HACKER, 
p. 15, 18), this is scarcely con 
sistent with the statements of 
Aristotle. Etli. iv. 11, 1125, b, 
30, he says expressly of anger : 
ra 5e s/nTroiovvra iro\\a Kal 8ia<p- 
povra, and, on the other hand, of 
braver} r , that it does not consist 
in not fearing death under any 
circumstances, but in not fearing 
death eV TO?S KaAAi<TTois,especially 
in war (iii. 9, 1115, a, 28), which 
has a much more direct relation 
to political life than the loss of 
merely personal honour. So far 


virtues than one, is established by Aristotle, against 
the position of Socrates, who had reduced them all to 
Insight. Aristotle himself admits that all completed 
Virtue is in its essence and principle one and the same, 
and that with Insight all other virtues are given. 1 
Yet at the same time he shows that the natural basis 
of virtue the moral circumstances must be different 
in different cases. The will of the slave, for example, is 
different from the will of the freeman : the will of the 
woman and the child is not the same as the will of the 
adult man. Therefore he holds that the moral activity 
of different individuals must be different. Not only 
will one individual possess a particular virtue which 
others do not possess, but it is also true that different 
demands must be made on each particular class of 
men. 2 Aristotle says very little (and that not in bis 
Ethics , but in his (Economics) of the virtues of the 

1 Etk. vi. 13, 1144, b, 31 : oi>x avrbv rptirov, dAA 6ffov 
oi6v re ayaGbv e?i/at Kvpias avzv irpbs rb avrov epyov. Sib rbv 

r,QiK?is aperrjs. It appears, indeed, riQiK}}v aperrjv, . . . rcav 

as though the virtues could be tKavrov oaov eViySaAAei avrols. 

separated from one another ; ol> tiere (pavc-pbv on early ^0t/cr? dper)? 

yap 6 avrbs v(pve(rraros Trpbs r<av c-ipritifvoov Travruv. /cat ou^ ^ 

a?ra(ras, &(TTG T r)v /uej/ tfSr) rrjv S ttvrfy ffca(ppo(rvi/r) yuvaiKos Kal avfipos, 

OVTTW ei\ri(pcas etrrat. This ^s not &c. Although it is not here 

really so : TOVTO yap Kara /j.fv TO.S said that one virtue can exist 

tyvcrmas aperas eVSe xerat, /ca0 as Se without the others, and although 

airXws Aeyerni ayaObs, OVK eVSe- on the other hand, this is ad- 

X^rai apa yap ry fypovr]<Ti /j.iS. niitted JiJth. vi. 13 to be the case 

oucrp Traaai i>Trdpov<nv. only with the physical virtues, yet 

- See preceding n. and Polit. the imperfect virtue of slaves or 

vi. 13, 1260, a, 10: trao-iv eVi7rapx e women must be regarded as an 

/Aei/ ra /j.opia rjjs ij/vxys, a\\ incomplete and partial posses- 

eVuTrapxet Siatyepovrws . . . 6/j.oiws t-ion, which excludes the com- 

roivvv avayKcuov <?x fLV Ka " Ire p^ ras prehensive virtue of insight, and 

ijdLKas aperds viroXT]irrov 5e?v therefore extends to some and 

uei/ fj.Tfx lv Tavras, dA\ ov rbv not to others. 


several classes. In the Mhics he treats of Virtue in its 
perfected form, which it assumes in man, whom alone he 
elsewhere regards as the perfect type of humanity, and it 
is of this alone that he describes 1 the constituent parts. 
Bravery 1 stands at the head of the list of the virtues. 
He is brave who does not fear a glorious death or the 
near danger of death, or more generally he who endures, 
dares or fears what he ought to, for the right object, in 
the right way and at the right time. 2 The extremes 
between which Bravery stands as the mean are : on the 
one side Insensibility and Foolhardiness, and on the other 
Cowardice. 3 Nearly related to Bravery, but not to be 
identified with it, are Civil Courage and the courage 
which springs from compulsion, or anger, or the wish 
to escape from a pain, 4 or which is founded upon fami 
liarity with the apparently terrible or upon the hope of 
a favourable result. 5 Self-control 6 follows as the second 
virtue, which, however, Aristotle limits to the preserva- 

1 Etli. iii. 9-12. 5/jeia most closely resembles true 

2 C. 9, 1115, a, 33: 6 ire pi rbv bravery (1116, a, 27), tin 5t 
Ka\bv QO.VO.TOV dSe^s Kal ocra apTT)V yivsrai Si alSoo yap Kal 
7ri(/>e pei v-rroyvia ovra. c. 10, 1115, 8ta /caAou ope^iv (TI^TIS yap~) Kal 
b, 1 7 : 6 /j,v ovv a, Se? Kal ou eVe/ca (pvyyv ovi8ovs alo"vpov OVTOS. 
virofjievtov Kal (pofiov/j.vos, Kal ws Se? Nevertheless Aristotle distin- 
Kal ore, 6/j.oicas e Kal6appiav,av8pe ios guishes between them, TroAm/o? 
/car aiav yap, Kal us tu> 6 A<ryos, avSpeia being heteronomous to 
Trao-%61 Kal Trpdrrei 6 ai/5peTos . . . the extent that the brave deed is 
KaXov 8}} eVe/co 6 dj/Spetos virofjievei not done for its own sake. 

Kal irpaTTfi TO. Kara rr]v avSpetav. "StWfypoffvvf}, c. 13-15, in 

Cf. Rhet. i. 9, 1366, b, 11. contrast to a.Ko\a(ria and to a 

3 C. 10, 1115, b, 24 sqq. species of insensibility for which 

4 As in suicide, which Ari- there is no name, as it is not 
stotle therefore regards as a found among men (c. 14, 1119, a, 
mark of cowardice; iii. 11, 9; cf. vii. 11 init.: Aristotle 
1116, a, 12, cf. ix. 4, 1166, b, 11. would perhaps have ascribed this 

5 C. 88 (where, however, 1117, failing, of which he says, et 5 5<? 
a, 20, the words 3) Kal must be rep p-qQev fffnv ytiv /^TjSe Sta^epet 
omitted). Of these, iroAiTt/cr/ a.v- erepov erepou, ir6ppci) tiv efrj TOU 

VOL. II. * M 4 



tion of the proper mean in the pleasures of touch and 
in the satisfaction of the merely animal and sexual 
impulses. Next comes Generosity, 1 as the proper mean 
3 between Avarice and Extravagance, 2 the attitude in 
giving and taking external goods which is at once 
moral and worthy of a free man, 3 and the kindred virtue 
of Munificence in expenditure. 4 Magnanimity 5 (in his 

avdpwiros elvai, to the Ascetics 
of a later time) ; of. vii. 8, 1150, 
a, IV) sqq. and the passages re 
ferred to below from book vii. 
upon e 7/cpaTeta and aKpaoia ; Rliet. 
iUd 1. 13. In the words with 
which he opens this discussion, 
/xeTa 5e ravTTiv [bravery] irepl 
(Tdxppoa vv ns \ey(a/j.V 8 o KOV ff i 
yap TUV a\6yu)V /j.pu>v avrai flvat 
at aperat, Aristotle is referring to 
Plato s doctrine ; he himself has 
no reason to ascribe bravery, any 
more than moral virtue as a 
whole, to the irrational element 
in the soul. 

1 Or, more correctly, libera 
lity, eAeu0epiOT7js. 

" AveAeu0epia and cur curia. The 
worse and more incurable of 
these faults is avarice, Etli. iv. 
3, 1121, a, 19 sqq. 

3 Etli. iv. 1-3. The noble 
spirit in which Aristotle handles 
this subject may be seen, among 
other passages, in c. 2 init. : at 5e 
KCCT ctpeTTji/ 7rpae/s KaAai Kal TOV 
Ka\ov eVe/co. Kal 6 eAev0epiOS ovt> 
Sclxrei TOV /caAou eVe/ca Kal 6p9us 

Kal ravra ^Se cos ^ aAuTrws rb 
yap KOT aperriv r/5i; ?) a\virov, 
^Kiffra Se \vir-np6v 6^5e 5i5ous ols 
/a.)) SeT, ^ ^ TOV KaXov eVe/ca aAAa 
5ia TIV &\\i)v alrlav, OVK eAeu9e>os 
a\\ aAAos ris ^B-fifferai. ovfr 6 
/J.a\\ov yap e Aorr kv TO. 
Tqs KaA^y Trpdews, TOVTO 

4 Me7aAo7rpe7reta, ibid. 4-6, 
which is denned, 1122, a, 23, by 
the words ei/ ptytOti TTpfTrovo-a 
5a7rai/7j: it stands midway be 
tween /juKpoirpeireia, on the one 
hand, and fiavavo-ia and aweipoKa\la 
on the other. It differs from eAeu- 
flepiJ-rrjs in having to do, not only 
with the right and proper, but 
with the sumptuous expenditure 
of money (iv. 4, 1122, b, 10 sqq., 
where, however, 1. 18, we shall 
have to read, with Cod. L b M b , 
Kal fffTiv epyov /j.eya\OTrpeireia 

excellence of work in great 
matters, and explain 1. 12 as 
meaning either the magnitude 
here is contributed by the jueya- 
AoTrpeTrrjs, being a sort of great 
ness of liberality in respect to 
the same objects, or it is the 
magnitude here which con 
stitutes, so to speak, the great 
ness in the munificence, &c. ; 
unless we prefer the surmise of 
RASSOW, Forsch. iib. d. nilto 
Ethik. 82, who inserts \a&ovo"ns 
after peyedos, which might easily 
have fallen out owing to the 
OUO-TJS which follows, so that the 
meaning is liberality which is 
directed to the same object at 
taining a sort of grandeur ). 
met. i. 9, 1366, b, 18. 

5 Me-yaAoiJ t X a as midway be- 



description of which Aristotle has, perhaps, before his 
mind the example of his great pupil), honourable ambi 
tion, 1 Gentleness, 2 the social virtues 3 of Amiability, 4 
Simplicity, 5 Geniality 6 in company follow : and to these 
are added the graces of temperament, 7 Modesty, 8 and 
righteous Indignation. 9 

wards particular persons. End. 
iii. 7, 1233, b, 29, it is simply 
called <f>t\ia. 

5 The likewise nameless mean 
between vain-boasting (dAct^i/em) 
and self-depreciation (e/pcoj/eux, 
of which the extreme is seen in 
the pavKOTTivovpyos), iv 13. 

6 EurpaTreAi a or eVi5ejoT7js (iv. 
14), the opposites being /3a>,uoAo- 
xia. and aypdrris. Here also it 
is a question of social tact (cf. 
1128, b, 31 : 6 5^ X a P ie " Kal 
eAeufle ptos ovTcas et, diov v6/j.os 
8>v eai;T<), with especial reference, 
however, to the entertainment of 

7 Me<ro TT?Tes eV ro7s TrdOefft 
Kal ev rots Trepl TO. irdOi] (ii. 7, 
1108, a, 30), called jueaoTTjTes 
Trae^TLKal, Ettd. iii. 7 init. Among 
these, End. iii. 7 classes also 

, and 

tween meanness of spirit 
J/i>X t/c O and vanity (XOW^TTJS), iv. 
7_9 ; Rliet. ibid. Mya\6tyvxos is 
(1123, b, 2) o /Aeyd\cai> avrbv a^itav 
aios wv : this virtue, therefore, 
always presupposes actual ex 

1 This virtue is described, 
Etli. iv. 10, as the mean between 
QiXoTi/jiia and aQiXoTipia, which is 
related to /xeyaAovJ/uxi a as e Aeu- 
fleptoTTjs is to /meyaXoirptireia, but 
for which there is no proper 

2 The juetrJrTjs irepl opyds, iv. 
11. Aristotle calls this virtue 

, the corresponding vices 
and aopyna-ta, remark 
ing, however, that all these 
names are coined by him for the 
purpose. The irpaos is accordingly 
defined as 6 <=<> ols 5e? Kal ols Set 
opyi6/J.vos, ert 8e Kal cos Se? Kal 
ore al offov \p6vov. Ibid, on the 
d/cpo xoAos and the xaAeTrJy. 

3 Which Aristotle himself, iv. 
14 fin., comprises under this 

4 Using the word to designate 
the nameless virtue which, Etli. 
iv. 12, is opposed on the one side 
to complaisance and flattery, on 
the other to unsociableness and 
moroseness, and described as the 
social tact which knows 6fii\ftv 
us Se?. Aristotle there remarks 
that it closely resembles </>*At a, 
but differs from it in not resting 
upon inclination or dislike to 

8 Ai$6s. See Etli. iv. 15, ii. 
7 (p. 157, n. 2, supra). The 
modest man, according to these 
passages, is the mean between 
the shameless and the bashful 
man (:aTa7rA^|). Modesty, how 
ever, is not so much a virtue in 
the proper sense as a praiseworthy 
affection suitable only for youth, 
as the adult should do nothing 
of which he requires to be 

9 Only in ii. 7, 1108, a, 35 
sqq., where it is described as 

(j>66t>ov Kal 



Justice, however, claims the fullest treatment, and 
Aristotle has devoted to it the whole of the fifth book 
of his Ethics. 1 Considering the close connection be 
tween the Ethics and the Politics, it was necessary that 
special attention should be paid to the virtue upon 
which the maintenance of the commonwealth most 
! ! directly depends. Justice, however, is not here to be 
L understood in the wider sense in which it is equivalent 
- f to social virtue as a whole, 2 but in its narrower mean- 
in or as that virtue which has to do with the distribution 


of goods, the preservation, namely, of the proper mean 3 
or proportion in assigning advantages or disadvantages. 4 

it concerns joy and sorrow at the 
fortunes of others, and consists 
in T Au7re?cr0cu etrl TO?S avaius tv 
TrpaTTovffiv. Similarly Rhet. ii. 9 

1 Cf . on this subject : H. 
FBCHNEE, Ueber den GerecMiy- 
keitsbeyriff d. Arist. (Lpz. 1855), 
pp. 27-56 ; HILDENBRAND, Gesch. 
u. System d. Reclits- nnd Staats- 
j>htto*(ipMe, i. 281-331, who also 
cites other literature; PRANTL 
in BLUNTSCHLI S Staatworter- 
buch, i. 351 sqq. ; TRENDELEN- 
BURG, Hist. Beitr. iii. 399 sqq. 

- Ttt TTOirjTLKO. Kal fyvXaKTlKO. 

Ti)S evSai/j.oi ias Kal TWV popiav 


ap6T$7 TeAeia, aAA ov% air\u>s aAAa 
irpbs erepoi/, of which it is said 
that it is ov ^epos aperris aAA oArj 
apery?, ov5 TI evavria afiiKia ^.epos 
/ca/aas aAA oAT? KaKia . . . f) /J.ei> 
rrfs oA?7S dper^s ovffa XP^" 1S Trpbs 
#AAoy, TJ 8e TT}? KaKias (Eth. v. 3, 
1129, b, 17, 25 sqq. 1130, a, 8, c. 
5, 1130, b, 18). 

3 For the mean, as in the case 
of every other virtue, is here the 

highest criterion ; cf. Eth. v. 6 
init. . eVet 8 o T HSittos avicros Kal 
VKTOV, Srj\ov on KOI 


8 etrrl TO iffov . . . et ovv rb aSi- 



4 As the distinguishing mark 
of a5i/aa in this narrower sense, 
irAeoyeKTelV is mentioned (c. 4) 

TTfpl TlfJ-^V ?) XP l hf Mara 

$1 ft nvi e^o:/wev tv\ bvofj-ari 

Aa/3eu/ TauTa irdvra, Kal Si ^ 

rfyv aTrb TOV /ce p5ois ; it consists 

(c. 10, 1134, a, , 33) in 

auTa? i/e/xetj/ ruv aTrAcor 

eAarToi 8e roav avrAaJs Ka/cwj/. Of 

justice, on the other hand, it is 

said, c. 9, 1134, a, 1: Kal 

) ecrrl Ka6 $\v 6 5 iKaios 
rpaKTiKbs Kara Trpcaipecrtv 
TOV Si/catou, Kal 8mi e / u7]TJ/cby ical 
avTw irpbs a\\ov Kal tTp<p Trpbs 
eTepoi/, ov% OVTWS wffTe TOV /j.V 
cupeToG TrAeoi/ avTw eAccTTOi/ Se T<p 
TT^aiov, TOV /3Aa/8epoO 8 ava.ira\ii>, 
aAAa TOV iffov TOV /caT 1 ava\oyiav, 
&/J.QIUS oe Kal aAAoj irpos a\\ov. It 
\*( Rhet. i. 9, 1366, b, 9) 


But this proportion will be different according as we 
are dealing with the distribution of civil advantages ! 
and the common property, which is the function of 
distributive justice, or with the removal and prevention 
of wrongs, which is the function of corrective justice. 1 | 
In both cases the distribution of goods according to the 
law of quality must be the aim. 2 But this law demands 
in the former case that each should receive, not an equal 
amount, but an amount proportionate to his deserts. | 
The distribution, therefore, is here made in a geometrical 
proportion : as the merits of A are to those of B, so is 
the honour or advantage which A receives to that which 
B receives. 3 In the other case, which relates to the 
correction of inequalities produced by wrong, and to 
contracts, there is no question of the merits of the 
individual. Everyone who has done wrong must suffer 
loss in proportion to the unjust profit which he has 
appropriated ; there is subtracted from his gains an 
amount equivalent to the loss of the man who has 
suffered the wrong. 4 In like manner, in buying and 

St fy ra avraiv Ka.(TToi xovffiv. J3eitr. ii. 357 sqq. ; 13EANDIS, p. 

Right and justice, therefore, find 1421 sq. ; KASSOW, Forsvh. ul. <L 

a place only among beings who, nikoni,. Eth. 17, 93). 
like man, may possess too much 3 This is referred to Polit. iii. 

or too little not among those 0, 1280, a, 16. Conversely of 

who, like the gods, are confined public burdens, each would have 

to no limit in this respect, or to take his share according to his 

who, like the incurably bad, are capacity for discharging them. 

incompetent to possess anything Aristotle, however, does not touch 

at all; Eth, v. 13, 1137, a, 26. upon this point, although he 

1 We should speak rather of must have had it in view, Eth. v. 
public and private right. 7, 1131, b, 20, where he speaks 

2 ALKO.IOV in this sense = fcroi/, of the eAarrov and pe ifrv KCIKOV. 
&SIKOV = &VKJOV. in the wider sense, 4 By KepSos (advantage or 
on the other hand, the former = gain) and fr/jiia (disadvantage or 
v6/j.i/j.ov, the latter = Trapa.voiJ.ov (v. loss) Aristotle means in this con- 
5; cf. TEENDBLENBUEG, Hist, nection, as he remarks, Eth. v 



selling, renting, letting, &c., it is a question merely of 
the value of the article. Here, therefore, the rule is 
that of arithmetical equality : from him who has too 
much an amount is taken which will render both sides 
equal. 1 In matters of exchange this equality consists 
in equality of value. 2 The universal measure of value is 

7, 1132, a, 10, not merely what is 
commonly understood by them. 
As he comprehends under correc 
tive justice not only penal but 
also civil law, as well as the law 
of contract, he has greatly to 
extend the customary significa 
tion of the words in order to 
include these different concep 
tions under a common form of ex 
pression. Accordingly he classes 
every injustice which anyone 
commits as /ce pSos, every injustice 
which anyone suffers as C^uta. 

1 Ibid. c. 5-7, especially c. 
5, 1130, b, 30: rrjs 8e Kara /j-epos 
SiKaioffvvris Kal TOV KO.T avrrjv 
SiKaiov ev /j.ev fffTiv eTSos rb ev 
rcus Siavo/jLcus T/^UTJS /) xpTj/xaTwr 
T) TWV a\\cav oaa. yuepiora rois 
KOLVcovovfTL rrjs TroAire/ as, . . . ej/ 
8e TO iv TO?S o"u; y aAAa y/u.a(n Siop- 
OMTIKOV. TOVTOV Se jUeprj Svo rcav 
yap avvuXXayiJ.d. rwv TO. JJLCV eKoixrid 
effTi TO. 5 aKovaia, eKOvffia /J.V TO. 
TOiaSe olov Trpaffis, uvij, ^a.veiffjj.os, 
eyyvrj, XP^ " 5 ? irapaKarad^KT], fj.lff- 
dcaffLS eKovffia 5e Xe^erat, OTI r\ 


CKOIHTLOS. rSiv 8 aKo 
\adpoua, olov /cAorrTj, 

ta, fpap- 
TO, Se 

/3iam, olov aiicia, 8eo"/ios, Qdvaros, 
apirayrj, ir-fipoixris, KaKyyopla, irpo- 
Trr]\aKicrfj.6s. c. G, 1131, b, 27 : 
Tit fj.fv yap Stave /j.7]TLKbv 5 tKaiov 
ruv KOIVWV aet /cara T^V ava\oyiav 

eiprj/icj/rji/ Kal yap dirb 
KOIVWV iav yiyvrjTaL rj 
7, eo"TCU KaTa TOV \6yov TOV 
avTov ftvirep ~x.ovffi irpbs ^AA7]Aa Ta 
flffevexOfvra Ka l T ^ aSiKov TO 
avTiKi/u.vov TW SiKaici) TOvTCfj TTapa 
Tb avd\oyov effTiv. T> 8 V TO?S 
crvvaXXdypaffi 8 iKaiov fffTl fjizv fa 
TI, Kal TO &8iKov aviffov, aAA ou 
KaTa Trjv avaXoyiav ^Kflyijv aAAa 
K.O.TO. TTJV api9{j.riTiKTiv. ovdev yap 
Sta^epet, et eTTtei/crjs <f>av\ov air- 

aAAa irpbs TOV &\dfiovs Trjv Sta^opav 
/j.6vov /SAeTret 6 v6p.os &C. PLATO 
( Gorg. 508, A) had opposed iffo- 
TTJS yetofLGTpiKT] to Tr\eov(ia. 

2 After discussing, in the 
above passage, both distributive 
and corrective justice, Aristotle 
comes (c. 8) to the view that 
justice consists in retribution, TO 
dvTnreTrovdbs (on which see Ph. d. 
Gr. i. 360, 2). This he rejects as a 
valid definition of justice in 
general, since it is applicable 
neither to distributive nor even, 
strictly speaking, to punitive 
justice. Only Koivwviai aAAa/crt/cat 
rest upon rb avTiireirovObs, which, 
however, is here, not /COT laorri 
but KaT ava\oyiav : TW avTiiroi 
yap avdXoyov tfu/x^ueVei r) Tr6\is 
(1132, b, 31 sqq.): it is not 
the same, but different, though 
equivalent things are exchanged 
for one another, the norm 
for each exchange being con- 



demand, which is the source of all exchange; and the 
symbol which represents demand is money. 1 Now 

tained in the formula : as are 
the goods of the one to those of 
the other, so must that which 
the former obtains be to that 
which the latter obtains. Of. 
ix. 1 init. It is thus obvious 
that the previous assertion, that 
corrective justice proceeds ac 
cording to arithmetical propor 
tion, is inapplicable to this whole 
class of transactions. But it 
does not even apply to penal 
justice. Even here the proportion 
is geometrical : as A s act is to B s, 
so is the treatment which A re 
ceives to that which B receives. 
Only indemnification for injury 
{is determined according to 
/ arithmetical proportion, and even 
here it is merely an analogy, as 
it is only an equivalent that is 
granted (it is an obvious defect 
in Aristotle s theory that it makes 
no distinction between indemni 
fication and punishment, and 
here treats punishment, which 
certainly has other aims as well, 
merely as a loss inflicted upon 
the transgressor for the purpose 
of rectifying his unjust gain). 
When, however, TKENDELEN- 
BUEG (ibid. 405 sqq.) distin 
guishes the justice in payment 
and repayment, upon the basis 
of which contracts are con 
cluded, from corrective jus 
tice, and assigns it to distribu 
tive, so that the latter embraces 
the mutual justice of exchange 
as well as the distributive justice 
of the state, while corrective 
justice is confined to the action 
of the judge, either in inflicting 
penalties or in deciding cases of 
disputed ownership, he cannot 

find much support for this view. 
From the passages quoted in the 
preceding note, it is obvious that 
by distributive justice, Aristotle 
means that which has to do with 
the distribution of Koiva, whether 
these are honour or other advan 
tages ; by corrective justice, on 
the other hand, so far as it relates 
to KOv<Tia a, in the 
first instance, fair dealing in 
commercial life, and not the 
legal justice of litigation, as the 
expression Kovaia (rvva.XKdyiJ.ara. 
indicates, since it is a name given 
to them (c. 5) because they rest 
upon voluntary contract. Even 
in these there are redress and cor 
rection : the loss which, e.g., the 
seller suffers on the deliverance 
of his goods is compensated by 
the payment for the same, so 
that neither party loses or gains 
(c. 7, 1332, a, 18), and only when 
no agreement can be arrived at 
is the judge called in to under 
take the settlement. They be 
long, therefore, not to Sicw/e^T?- 
riitbv, but to SiopOcariKov SiKaiov. 
On some other defects in Ari 
stotle s theory of justice, among 
which the chief is his failure 
clearly to grasp the general con 
ception of right, and to deduce 
a scientific scheme of natural 
rights, see HILDENBRAND, Hid. 
p. 293 sqq. 

1 Ibid. 1133, a, 19: irdvra 
ffvp-^Xfira Set ircas e?i/at, u>v tarrlv 
aXXayi] e< o rb vofjuff^ eA7jA.u#e 
Kal yivzrai TTCUS ^aov irdvra yap 
. . . Set apa ei/i nvi irdvra 

rovro 8 fffrl rrj /aev aXrjdfia 7] 



justice consists in right dealing with reference to these 
relations : injustice in the opposite. Justice requires that 
a man should not assign to himself greater profit or less 
loss, to the other party greater loss or less profit, than 
rightfully belongs to each : injustice consists in doing 
so. 1 A just or an unjust man, again, may be defined 
as one whose will identifies itself with one or the other 
mode of action. These two, injustice in the act and in 
the agent, do not absolutely coincide. A man may do 
injustice without acting unjustly, 2 and one may act 
unjustly without therefore being unjust ; 3 and accord 
ingly Aristotle makes a distinction between hurt, 
wrong, and injustice. 4 

rys xpeas TO 
76701/6 Kara (TvvQT)Ki}v, whence the 
name vo/^Lff/na, from v6/j.os. Cf . b, 
10 sqq. ix. 1,1164, a, 1. See the 
further treatment of money, Po- 
lit. i. 9, 1257, a, 31 sqq. 

1 See p. 170, n. 4, supra, and 
ibid. c. 9, 1134, a, 6. As justice 
thus consists in respect for the 
rights of others, it is called an 
d\\6rpiov dyaebv, c. 8, 1130, a, 3, 
c. 10, 1134, b, 2. 

2 Etli. v. 10, 1135, a, 15 : Svrtav 
8e rS>v SiKttiuv Kal d8iK<av r)V 
elpri/Jievwv, dSi/ce? Kal SIKCUO- 
irpaye i, orav eKcav TIS avrd irpdrrri 
orav 5 &KWV, OUT dSi/cel ovre 
Si/ccuoTTpcrye? ccAA /) Kara v eftf)- 
KOS . . . dSiWTjyua Se Kal 8i.KaioTrpd- 

iapiara.1 T<p eitovffiq) Kal 
) UHTT effrai TI aSiKov /uei/ 

3 *C. 9 (see p. 170, n. 4, su- 
pra\ the 8 iKaios had been defined 
as irpaKTtKos Kara srpoaipea iv 
TOV diKaiov : c. 10 init. the ques 

tion is asked : eVct 5 tanv 
Kovvra yUTjTrco afiiKOV elvot, 6 TroTa 

fiiKiav, olov 
juoixoy ^ ArjffT-fis ; the reply is, 
that if one, e.g., commits adul 
tery from passion, not Sia irpoaip- 
fcrecas apxh v , we must say : 
IL\V ovi>, afiiKos 8 OVK effriv, oiov 
oi>8e /cAe TTTTjs, 6/cAe^/e 8e, ouSe 
fjLOixbs, eiJLoixevffe Se. Cf. follow 
ing note, and p. 116, n. 3. 

4 Ibid. 1135, b, 11, all actions 
are divided into voluntary and 
involuntary, and the former again 
into intentional and unintentional 
(see p. 116 sqq. supra} : rpi&v S^/ 
oixrSw ftXafi&v T(Jov kv ra s KOLVOO- 
viais [in a passage which Ari 
stotle has here, perhaps, in view, 
Lams, ix. 861, E, PLATO had dis 
tinguished fiXafir) from dSiKTjjaa, cf. 
Ph. d. Gr. \. 719, 3 fin.~\ ra /xer 
a-yvoias ajj,apriifjiard effrtv [or more 
accurately, 1. 16, either drvx^/J-ara 
or a i uapr f]fiaTa f a/mapravfi yap 
orav f) dpxfy sv avrcp ^ TTJS curias, 



In discussing the nature of justice we must further 
take account of the difference between complete and 
incomplete natural and legal right. Eights in the 
fullest sense exist only between those who are free and 
equal ; l hence the distinction between political and 
paternal, domestic or proprietary right. 2 Political 
right, again, is divided into natural and legal right ; the 
former of which is binding upon all men in like manner, 
while the latter rests on arbitrary statute, or refers to 
particular cases and relations ; 3 for however dissimilar 

art/vel 5 orav e^coflei/l . . . orav 
8e etSaJS fiey, /AT] Trpof$ov\vo as Se, 
dSi/cTj^a [wrong done in passion: 
e.q. anger] . . . orav 5 e /c irpoai- 
peVews, aSt/cos ical fj.oxG npos . . . 
0,11010)5 Se /cat Si/catos, orav trpo- 
eAOjUepos SiKaioirpayfj t 

Se, &y (J.6VOV KWV TTpdrrr). But 

even involuntariness can only 
excuse oro /xr? /LLOVOV dyvoovvres 
aAAa Kal Si ayvoiav a/u.ypTdvovo~i, 
not wrong committed in thought 
lessness which is caused by cul 
pable passion. 

1 C. 10, 1131, a, 25: TO fr- 
rov^cvov effri Kal TO dirXws fiixaiov 
Ka\ rb TToArrt/cbj 8 iKaiov. rovro Se 
zffriv eVt KOivw&v fiiov irpbs rb tivai 
avrdpKeiav, i\tvQfpuv Kal tffwv ^ 
war o.vaKo yia.v %) Kar dpiQp.6v. 
Where these conditions are ab 
sent, we have not TO iroXiriKbv 
S Kaiou, aAAa rl ZiKaiov [a particu 
lar kind of justice, as distin 
guished from TO on-Aws St/caiov] 
/cal a0 o^oioVrjTa. The former 
(b, 13) is always Kara VO/AOV Kal 
fv ols eirecpvKei flvai v6fj.os ovroi 
5 ^ffav ev oTs virapx*i I<r6rrjs rov 

ou ravrbv rovrois aAA op.oiov ov 
yap fffriv dSt/cta Trpbs ra aurov 
avrAaJs Tb 5e /CTTj/xa Kal rb TCKVOV, 
ea>s av 77 TTTjAt/coi/ Kal /J,T) xa>pj(T0?7, 
uxrrrep ^ue pos avrov . . . Stb ^uaAAoi/ 
Trpos yvvalKa e o*Ti St/catoy T) Trpbs 
reKva Kal KTTjjj.ara rovro yap eVrt 
TO olKovofj.iKbv SiKaiov zrepov Se 
/cat TOUTO ToO iroXiriKov. 

3 Ibid. 1134, b, -18: ToC 5e 
TToAtTt/coG St/catou Tb (Uei/ (pvo~tKov 
eo~n rb Se VO/J.IKOV, (pvffiKbv fj.ev rb 

2 J^VZ. 1134, b, 8: Tb Se 
OfffTToriKov OLKaiov Kal rb TrarpiKov 

Kal ov rip So/celj/ )} fj. 
o e| apx^s /u.ei ovdev Stacpe pet OI;TC;S 
?) aAAws, orav Se Oavrai Sta^e pet 
. . . CTI 8aa e?ri ruv KaOfKaffra 
vo/j-oderovo-iv. Cf. C. 12, 1136, b, 
33. Natural right is universal 
unwritten law [v6/j.os Koivbs aypa- 
<pos^\ ; positive right \_v6/u.os i Stos], 
on the other hand, is described 
as written law (Rliet.. i. 10, 1368, 
b, 7; cf. c. 14, 1375, a, 16, c. 15, 
1375, a, 27, 1376, b, 23; Eth. viii. 
15, 1162, b, 21): but even here 
there is a distinction between 
the written and the unwritten 
(or that part which belongs to 
custom and habit), Rlict. i. 13, 
1373, b, 4 ; cf. Eth. x. 10, 1180, 
a, 35. 



and changeable human laws and institutions may be, 
we cannot deny that there is a natural right, nor is the 
existence of a natural standard disproved by the possi 
bility of divergence from it. 1 Indeed, such natural 
right is the only means of supplementing the defects 
which, seeing that it is a mere general rule and cannot 
by its very nature take account of exceptions, attach 
even to the best law. 2 When such an exception occurs 
it is necessary to sacrifice legal in order to save natural 
right. This rectification of positive by natural right 
constitutes Equity. 3 Several other questions, which 
Aristotle takes occasion to discuss in the course of his 
researches into the nature of justice, 4 we may here pass 

1 Eth. v. 10, 1134, b, 24 sqq. ; 
cf. Rhct. i. 13, 1373, b, 6 sqq., 
where Aristotle appeals for the 
<pvo~fi Kowbv 8 iKaiov to well-known 
verses in ^ophocles and Empe- 
docles, and to the universal 
agreement of men. 

2 Similarly PLATO, Ph. d. Gr. 
i. 763, 1. 

3 Eth. v. 14, especially 1137, 
b. 11: rb eTneiKes SiKaiov ^ueV ZO~TLV, 
ov rb KaTa v6fj.ov Se, aAA tTrav6p- 
dca/j.a vo/j,i/m.ov SiKaiov. And after 
proving the above, 1. 24 : 5i6 

Ka06\ov. The eViei/crjs is there 

fore (1. 35) O T&V TOIOVTQ)!/ TTpO- 

Kal irpaKTiKos, Kal b fj.^) 
&c., and eVtet/ceta is 
TIS Kal ov-% erepa TIS 

os SiKaiov [on which see p. 175, 
n. 1, suprti], ov TOV ctTrAcos 8e [which 
here as Polit.iii. 6, 1279, a, 18, and 
Eth.v. 10, 1134, a, 25 = <t>v<riic6v 
5 iKaiov^ aAAo rov Sta TO airXoos [for 
which Trap a TO a?rA. might be 
conjectured : the words, how 
ever, may be explained by sup 
plying after Sia ro OTTAWA, not 
SlttaLov, but bpiaao-Qai, or a similar 
word] a/j.apTrj/m.aTos. Kal effTiv 
avTi] T] fyvffis i] TOV eTTtet/cous, e?r- 
at/6pOwfAa VOJJ.QV y eAAtiTret oia TO 

4 Whether it is possible volun 
tarily to suffer injury and to do 
oneself an injury, and whether 
in an unequal distribution the 
distributor or the receiver com 
mits the wrong. Aristotle deals 
with these questions, Eth. v. c. 
11, 12 and 15. He is prevented 
from finding any satisfactory 
solution of them, partly by the 
limitation of injustice to TrAeoy- 
e|ta, partly by the failure which 
is connected with it clearly to 
distinguish between alienable 
rights, of which it is true volentl 
non fit injuria, and inalienable, 
and similarly between civil and 
penal wrongs. Doubts have been 
entertained as to the genuine 
ness of one part of these discus 
sions. Chap. 15 is connected 
with the discussion of justice in 



over, especially as he arrives at no definite conclusions 
with regard to them. 

The discussion of the principal virtues serves to 
confirm the truth of the general definition of virtue 
previously given. In all of them the question is one of 
the preservation of the proper mean between two 
extremes of error. But how are we to discover the 
proper mean? Neither in the previous general dis 
cussion nor in his account of the individual virtues has 
Aristotle provided us with any reliable criterion of 
judgment upon this head. In the former, he refers us 
to insight as the guide to the discovery of the right ; 1 
in the latter, it is the opposition between two vicious 
and one-sided extremes that reveals the proper mean. 
But when, we ask what kind of conduct is vicious there 

a manner .which is certainly not 
Aristotle s. SPENGEL (Abli. d. 
JBair. Akad. philos.-philol. Kl. 
iii. 470) proposes therefore to 
transpose c. 10 and c. 14, but 
this does not get over the diffi 
culty, as c. 13 would still disturb 
the connection between c. 12 and 
15. FISCHER (De Eth. Mcom. 
$c. p. 13 sqq.) and FEITZSCHE 
(Ethica Eudemi, 117, 120 sqq.) 
regard c. 15 as a fragment from 
the fourth book of the Eudemian 
Ethics. BRANDIS, p. 1438 sq., 
leaves the choice open between 
these and other possible explana 
tions (e.g. that it is a preliminary 
note to a larger discussion). 
The difficulties seem to dis 
appear if we place c. 15, with the 
exception of the last sentence, 
between c. 12 and 13. It is not 
true that the question which it 
discusses has already been 


settled: in c. 11 it was asked 
whether what one suffers volun 
tarily, here whether what one 
inflicts on oneself, is a wrong. 
This investigation is expressly 
said to be still in prospect at the 
beginning of c. 12, and while it 
is certainly not more, it is also 
not less satisfactory than the kin 
dred investigations, c. 11 and 12. 
TRENDELENBURG declares him 
self, ibid. 423, satisfied with this 
transposition, in support of which 
he appeals to M. Mor. i. 34, 1196, 
a, 28, compared with Eth. JV. v. 
15, 1138, b, 8, On the other 
hand, KAMSAUER has not a word 
in allusion to the difficulty of the 
position of c. 15. In the text of 
c. 15 itself, however, the order is 
certainly defective; cf. KAM- 
SAUER, in loco, EASSOW, Forsck. 
uber die nikom. Eth. 42, 77, 96 
1 See p. 163, n. 2, supra. 





is none to enlighten us but the man of insight, no ulti 
mate criterion but the notion which he may have formed 
of the proper mean. All moral judgment, and with it ; 
all moral insight, is thus conditioned by Insight. If, 
then, we would understand the true nature of moral 
virtue we must next face the question of the nature of 
ight, and accordingly Aristotle devotes the sixth 
book of the Ethics to its discussion, illustrating it by 
comparison with kindred qualities, and explaining its 
practical import. 1 To this end he first distinguishes, 

1 It is usual to assign a more 
independent position to the sec 
tion upon the dianoetic virtues. 
The Ethics is thought to be a gene 
ral account of all the virtues which 
are partly moral and partly in 
tellectual ; the former are treated 
of B. ii.-v., the latter B. vi. But 
while Eudemus (according to 
Eth. Eud. ii. 1, 1220, a, 4-15) 
may have treated his subject in 
this way, Aristotle s intention 
seems to have been different. 
Ethics, according to Aristotle, 
is merely a part of Politics 
(see p. 135 sq.) from which 
Eudemus (i. 8, 1218, b, 13) is 
careful to distinguish it as a 
separate science. Its aim is not 
(see p. 181, n. 3, supra) yvwvis, but 
Trpa^is (Eth. Eud. i. 1, 1214, a, 10, 
represents it as not only know 
ledge, but also action ), and 
accordingly it requires experi 
ence and character to understand 
it (Eth. N. i, 1095, a, 2 sqq., see 
p. 161, n. 2, 3, supra). It would be 
inconsistent with this practical 
aim (an objection which, accord 
ing to M. MOT. i. 35, 1197, b, 27, 
was already urged by the older 
Peripatetics, and which is there 

inadequately met), if the Ethics 
were to deal with intellectual ; 
activity for its own sake, and I 
without relation to human action i 
in the sense in which vi. 7, 1141,1 
a, 28 declares that Politics hasj 
nothing to do with it. The! 
treatment, moreover, in the sixth 
book, as it stands, if it professes 
to give a complete account of 
dianoetic virtue, is very unsatis 
factory. The highest modes of 
intellectual activity are precisely 
those which are disposed of 
most briefl}*. This, on the other 
hand, becomes perfectly intelli 
gible if we suppose the true aim 
to be the investigation of <j>p6vri- 
ffis, the other dianoetic virtues 
being only mentioned here in 
order to mark off the province of 
(bp6vr](ns from theirs and clearly 
to exhibit its peculiarities by the 
antithesis. Aristotle has to speak 
of <ppovn<ns, because, as he him 
self says, c. 1 (p. 163, 2, supra), 
he has defined moral virtue as 
conduct according to opdbs \6yos, 
or as the QpovifiLos would define it, 
and because the discussion forms 
a necessary part of a complete 
account of moral virtue. Of. on 



as we have already seen, a two-fold activity of reason, 
the theoretic and the practical : that which deals with 
necessary truth, and that which deals with what is / 
matter of choice. 1 Inquiring further how reason, know 
ledge, wisdom, insight and art 2 are related to one 
another, he answers that knowledge deals with neces 
sary truth, which is perceived by an indirect process of 

this head also vi. 13 (p. 166, n. 1, 
supra), x. 8, 1178, a, 16: avv- 
eev/CTCu Se /ecu f] (pp6vr)(TLS rrj rov 
tfdovs aperfj, Kal avry rrj (ppovT]o-i, 
eftrep al juei/ TTJS <>poi/r,(reccs dp%a2 
Kara ras i)6iKds tlffiv aperas, TO 8 
op8bv roov ijOiKwv Kara r^v fyp6vr\(riy. 

1 See p. 113, n. 1, supra. 

2 Eth. vi. 3 init. : earw 87] ols 
aATjfleuei fj tyvxb Tcp Karatpdvat r) 
a.Tro(pdvai irevrz rbv apid/.t6v ravra 
5 fffrl r^x v "ni e7rto T7j/x77, <pp6vri(ris 
[which we have to translate by 
insight for lack of a better 
word], o~o<pia, vovs, viroXtyei yap 

Whether Aristotle intends to 
treat all five or only some of 
those virtues is, on our view of 
the aim of this discussion, not 
very important. At the same time 
we cannot agree with PKANTL 
(Ueber die dianvut. Tuq. d. 
nikom. Etli. Munch. 1852) in re 
garding <ro(pia and fypAvnais as 
the only diano,e tic virtues: the 
former, that of the \6yov c^ov, so 
far as it has for its object T() nfy eV- 
Sex^^vov aXXcas ^X iv the latter 
with the qualities which are sub 
ordinate to it (edjSouAfo, (ruj/etrts, 
yvca/j-f], Seiv^TTjs), in so far as it 
refers to TO eVSexo/^ei/oi/ a\\oas 
fX lv > f vovs, on the other hand, 
he says that as immediate it 
cannot be regarded as a virtue, 
of firiffT^fji. rj and T^\vt\ that they 
are not virtues, but that there is 

an apery; eVjcmj^Tjs, (ro<pta, and an 
dperT? Te x^s, likewise in the last 
instance o-ocp a. Aristotle cer 
tainly speaks of <ro<t>ia,c. 7, 1141, 
a, 12, as dper$7 re xi/Tjs, but only in 
the popular sense ; as voty ia has 
to do only with the necessary, it 
cannot in this sense be dperr? 
s > whose sphere is TO eV5e- 
a\\as X LV - Btrt, apart 
from this inaccuracy, Prantl s 
view is untenable, for in the first 
place Aristotle expressly says, 
c. 2 init., that the dianoetic 
virtues are the subject of the dis 
cussion that follows, and nowhere 
hints that there is any difference 
in this respect among the five 
which he enumerates c. 3, and in 
the second place Aristotle s defi 
nition of virtue applies to all 
live. If every praiseworthy 
quality is a virtue ( EtJi. i. 13 fin. : 
ruiv 8e eeon ras tvcuvfT&s dpfTav 
Ae^oyuev) eVio T^rj and rex^f] are 
undoubtedly e eis eiraiverai (as 
example of e ^s, e TncrTrj/n? is the 
one which is given in Categ. c. 8, 8, 

a, 29, 11, a, 24) ; if, on the other 
hand, we accept the definition of 
virtue elsewhere (Top. v. 3, 131, 

b, 1), & rOV X OVTa IfOlfi (TTTOUSCUOJ/, 

this also is applicable to both. 
The same is true of vovs when 
conceived of, not as a special 
part of the soul, but as a special 
quality of that part, as it must be 
when classed along with eirto-T^/ir;, 

N 2 



thought in other words, by inference ; l that necessary 
truth is also the object of reason (vovs) in that narrower 
sense in which it means the power of grasping in an act 
of immediate cognition those highest and most universal 
truths which are the presuppositions of all knowledge ; 2 

&c. ; c. 12 init., moreover, it is ex 
pressly described as a ets, but if 
it is a eis it must be a ejs 
eiraivfr-fj : in other words, an aper-fr. 

1 Ibid. c. 3; cf. p. 243, 

- Ibid. c. 6, and frequently, 
?/. p. 244, sqq. From reason 
in this sense vovs TrpaxriKos 
is distinguished. The difference, 
according to De An. iii. 10, Eth. 
vi. 2, 12 (p. IIP), n. 2, cf. 118, n. 1, 
mfpra), is that the object of the 
practical reason is action, and 
therefore TO eVSex- a\\ws *x ll i 
whereas the theoretic reason is 
concerned with all ftvuv a! apxal 
jU?; eV5e;Oj/Tcu aAAcor *X IV - ^ n m s 
further treatment of the prac 
tical reason Aristotle is hardly 
consistent. In the passages cited, 
p. 113, n. 2, its function is de 
scribed as &ov\V(r6ai or Aoyl- 
fcffOai, while it is itself called TO 
\oyia-TiKov it is of less import (ac 
cording to p. 106, n. 2, supra) that 
for vovs Trpa.KTLKos stand also Sidvoia 
jrpa.KTiK.ri, TrpaKTiKov Kal fiiavorj- 
TiK6v. On the other hand we 
read, Eth. vi. 12, 1143, a, 35 : Kal 
& vovs T&V laywruv eTr a/i(/>^Tf pa 
Kal yap TUT irpuTcav opcav Kal TWV 
fO~x aT(al/ vovs etrrt Kal ov \6yos, Kal 
5 /J.V Kara ras a7roSei|ets TUIV 
aKivriTtoV opwv Kal TrpwTwv, 6 o v 
rats irpaKTiKaTs [sc. eVio-Trj^ats, not 
a7ro5ei |cn, as the species irpaKTiKal 
a7roSei|eis cannot stand as the 
antithesis to the genus airo^i^is; 
moreover, the former phrase in 

volves a self-contradiction, air6- 
5eiis according to p. 243 sq. being 
a conclusion from necessary 
pre raises j whereas deliberation 
has to do with TO eVSep/. 
e^etz/) TOV e(r%aTOu Kal ez/ 
Kal Trjs erepas Trporacrecos. a 
yap TOV ov eVe/co avTai e/c yap 
TUV Ka.Q 1 fKacrTa TO KadoXov [the 
last clause, e yap, &c., has 
hitherto baffled the commen 
tators, and ought perhaps to be 
struck out]. TovTcav ovv %x lv ^^ 
a^ffOrjffLv, avTf] S etrri vovs. Ac 
cording to this passage also 
there is, besides the reason which 
knows the unchangeable prin 
ciples of demonstrations, a 
second whose object is TO V 

Trp6Ta<ris, and which, therefore, is 
described as an ataQrjffis of these 
(TOVTWV can only refer to these 
apxal TOV ov eVe/ca). By <rx&TOV 
can only be meant the same as iii. 
5, 1112, b, 23 (cf. vi. 9, 1142, a, 
24 and p. 118, n. 3, sujjra) where 
it is said, rb eo^aToi/ ej/ Trj ava- 
\vffei TrpwTov slvai sv T 
the primary condition 
afriov, 1112, b, 19) for the attain 
ment of a certain end, with the 
discovery of which deliberation 
ceases and action begins, as set 
forth, iii. 5, 1112, b, 11 sqq.; De 
An. iii. 10 (see p. 113, n. 2, supra). 
As it lies in our own power to 
make this condition actual or not, 
it is described as cvdexo^evov. 
But it does not coincide in mean- 


that wisdom consists in the union of reason and know 

ing, as WALTEE, Lelire v. d. 
prakt. Vern. 222, assumes, with 
the Tpa irporaffis, the second 
premise. The latter is the 
minor premise of the practical 
syllogism : in the example ad 
duced, Etli. vi. 5 (seep. 110, n. 1, 
supra), iravrbs yXviceos yi>e<r6ai. 
8e?, rovrl 5e y\vKv, &c., it is the 
clause this is sweet ; the eo-xa- 
TOV, on the other hand, which 
leads immediately to action is 
the conclusion (in the given case : 
TOVTOV yeveffdai SeT), which is 
called, De An. iii. 10 (see p. 113, 
n. 2, supra), Eth. vi. 8, 1141, b, 12, 
xh T^S 7rpaea>s, irpa.Kr bv ayaGov ; 
as,then, rb irpaKrov is described as 
rb effxarov, vi. 8, 1141, b, 27, c. 8, 
1142, a, 24 also, and only this can 
be meant by rb ej/5ex- in the 
passage before us, the minor 
premise ( this is sweet, this is 
shameful ) does not refer to a 
mere possibility but to an un 
alterable reality. It is certainly 
surprising to be told that both of 
these are not known by a \6yos, 
but by Nous, seeing that the 
minor premise of the practical 
syllogism is matter of perception, 
not of Nous,while the conclusion, 
rb f<rxarov, being deduced from 
the premises, is matter, not of 
vovs, but of \6yos, not of im 
mediate but of mediate know 
ledge. Nevertheless, although 
in many cases (as in the above, 
rovrl yXvKv) the minor premise of 
the practical syllogism is a real 
perception, there are other cases 
in which it transcends mere per 
ception : as, for instance, when 
the major premise is we must 
do what is just, the minor < this 
action is just. In such cases we 
can only speak of otfrrQrjffis in the 

improper sense described p, 250, 
n. 1, supra (for another example, 
v. Eth. ii. 9, 1109, b, 20), and 
Aristotle himself remarks (v. 
p. 183, n. 4, infra) that what he 
here calls at(rQi}<ns it would bo 
better to call ^>p6vr\(ns. But even 
the e0"xaTOj/, i.e. the TrpaKrbv, 
must be object of aur0?](m, as 
it is a particular, and all par 
ticulars are so (cf. p. 183, infra). 
What is more remarkable is that 
the passage before us places the 
function of the practical reason, 
not in PovXeveaOai (on which 
v. p. 182, n, 5, infra), but in the 
cognition of the erepa -wp6raais 
and the e(T%aToz/. It is wholly 
inadmissible to say, with 
WALTER, ibid. 76 sqq., that it is 
speaking of the theoretic reason 
and not of the practical at all. 
It is impossible to understand 
the words 6 Kara, ras O.TVO- 
5ei|efs, &c.,to mean that one and 
the same Nous knows both. If 
we examine c. 2 of this book (see 
p. 113, n. 2, supra) where, consis 
tently with other passages, ra 
eVSex . aAAcos e xeii are expressly 
assigned to the vovs Trpa/crt/cta as 
the sphere of its action, while 
the OetoprjTiKos is contined to the 
sphere of necessary truth, and if 
we consider how important a 
place the latter doctrine has in 
Aristotle s philosophy (cf . p. 197, 
n. 4, supra ; Anal. Post. i. 33 init.: 
of the eVSex- &V.AWS <?x lv there is 
neither an eTnar-fi/tri nor a vovs~), 
we must regard it as more than 
improbable that what in all other 
passages is in the distinctest 
terms denied of this reason is 
here expressly affirmed of it. 
Such an explanation is unneces 
sary: Aristotle says of fyp6vr}<ns, 



ledge in the cognition of the highest and worthiest 
objects. 1 These three, therefore, constitute the purely 
theoretic side of reason. They are the processes by 
which we know the actual and its laws. What they deal 
with cannot be otherwise than as it is, and therefore 
cannot be matter of human effort. On the other 
M hand, art and insight 2 deal with human action: in 
the one case as it concerns production, in the 
other as it is conduct. 3 Insight alone, therefore, of all 
the cognitive activities can be our guide in matters of 
conduct. It is not, however, the only element in the 
determination of conduct. The ultimate aims of action 
are determined, according to Aristotle, 4 not by delibera 
tion, but by the character of the will : 5 or, as he would 

the virtue of thepractical reason, 
both that practical deliberation, 
and that the immediate know 
ledge of the effxa-TOv arid irpaKTOv, 
is the sphere of its operation 
(see p. 182, n. 3, infra }. He 
attributes, therefore, to it the 
knowledge both of the actual, 
which is the starting-point of 
deliberation, and of the purpose 
which is its goal. 

1 C. 7, 1141, a, 16 (after re 
ject ing the common and in 
accurate use of the word aofy a) : 
&<TT STJAOJ/ on 7] aicpiftecTTdTrj &v 
T&V eTncrTTJiUoJz/ eit] i) ffoty a. Se? 
apa TOV (T0(p6v p.)] /JLOVOV ra K TWV 
apx&v eiSeVcu, aAAa Kal Trepl ras 
apxas a\r)Qeveiv. OXTT eft? &j/ ^ 
crofyia vovs ical e7n<rT7]yU77, aiffirep 
Kf.tyaXfyv e^ovffa Hiri(rT-f)/j.r) T&V 
Tijj.Lvra.rwv. Of. p. 290, n. 2, supra. 

2 It would be preposterous, 
Aristotle continues, c. 7, 1141, 
a, 20, to regard ^pJvrjo-ts and 
TToXiTiK^] as the highest know 
ledge ; in that case we should 

have to regard man as the 
noblest of all beings. The 
former is concerned with what 
is best for man : on the other 
hand f) (rotyia tarl Kal eTncrHj/uT; 
Kal vovs ruv Tifj-iwrdrcav TTJ (j)vcrci. 
c. 8 init. : T\ Se dpp6vf]ffis Trept TO 
avdpcairiva Kal irepl uiv Herri /3ow- 

, rb eS fiov- 
S ovOels Trepl 

TOVT epyov 

re\os T I fffn Kal TOVTO 
v. See also p. 183, 
n. 2, supra. 
3 See p. 107, n. 2, supra. 

4 As was rightly pointed out 
by WALTER, Lelire v. d. praJit. 
Vern. 44, 78, and HARTENSTEIN 
in opposition to TRENDELEN- 
Bi RG (Hist. Beitr. ii. 378), and 
the earlier view of the present 

3 EtU. iii. 5, 1112; b, 11 : 
fiov\v6/Ji.e9a 8e ou Trepl T&V Te\>v 
a\\a Trepl TWV irpbs ra reATj. So 
the physician, the orator, the 



explain it, while all aim at happiness, 1 it depends upon 
the moral character of each individual wherein he seeks 
it. Practical deliberation is the only sphere of the 
exercise of insight ; 2 and since this has to do, not with 
universal propositions, but with their application to 
given cases, knowledge of the particular is more in 
dispensable to it than knowledge of the universal. 3 It 
is this application to practical aims and to particular 
given cases that distinguishes insight both from science 
and from theoretic reason. 4 On the other hand, it is 

legislator : de/J-evoi. re Aos ri TTOJS 
Kal 5ia rivcov tffrai ffKOirovffi. vi. 
13, 1144, a, 8 : rb epyov curort \e~trai 
Kara r}]v fypovr\(nv Kal rr\v 
a.peri]v TI /j.ev yap aperrj 
Trotet opObv, T] 8e <pp6vn(ris ra Trpbs 
rovrov. L. 20 : r^v /j.ev ovv 
TrpoaipecTLv opQ^v iroiei y apery, rb 
5 offa Ktvr]s eVe/ca ire(pvK irpdr- 
recrOai OVK effri TTJS apfrijs aAA 
ere pas Swdfjifcos. See further, 
p. 186, n. 5, infra. 

1 See p. 139, n. 1, supra. 

- C. 8 init.-, see p. 118, n. 3, 

3 MJt. vi. 8, 1141, b, 14 (with 
reference to the words quoted n. 2 
preced. p.) : oi/5 effrlv r\ ^p6vr,ffis 
rtav KaBoXov IJLOVOV, aAAa SeT Kal ra 
KadeKavra yvoopi^iv irpaKruc^ yap, 
TI 8e irpal-LS irepl TO. KadeKavra. 
And accordingly (as is remarked 
also Metaj)h. i. 881, a, 12 sqq.) 
experience without knowledge 
(i.e. without apprehension of the 
universal) is as a rule of greater 
practical use than knowledge 
without experience, rj Se $p6vr)<ns 

(c. 9, 1142, a, 11), being without 

4 Etli. vi. 9, 1142, a, 23 : on 
8 T] fypovriffis OVK eTTiffrrifj-r], fyavt- 
pov rov yap taxdrov early, &<r~fp 
ztprirai [in the passage quoted, p. 
182, n. 2,S W/>., where it was shown 
to be concerned with the irpaK.r bv 
ayatiov ; cf. c. 8, 1141, b, 27 : rb 
yap ^t ^iff/jLa irpaKrhv ws 
rb yap irpaKrbv roiovrov [sc. 

yap vovs ruv opwv, &v OVK eo~rt 
rj 8e rov etrxarof, ov OUK 

ravTt]v [the apprehension of the 
particular ~| /iaAAov. For the same 
reason young people lack 

t(mv 67r(o"T7jyU77, aAA aarflrjfm, oix 
ri riav tSi co* , aAA oi a alcrOai d/J-eda 
ori rb ev roTs /naQrj/m.ariKo is eo~xa rot 
rpiyuiov^ ffrr^fferat yap /cccKet. 
aAA avrt] /ua\\ov a1fcr07j(ris ^ 
fypovriffis, Kfivr]S 8 ^AAo elSos. 
This passage has been discussed 
in recent times by TRBNDELEN- 
BUEG (Hist. Beitr. ii. 380 sq.), 
253-262), and more exhaustively 
by WALTER (Lehr. v. d. prakt. 
Vern. 361-433). The best view 
of Aristotle s meaning and the 
grounds on which it rests 
may be shortly stated as 
follows : $p6vf)<ns is here distin 
guished from eVta-TT^n? by marks 



seen in both these respects to be a manifestation of 
practical reason, the essential characteristics of which it 

which are already familiar to us. 
When it is further opposed to 
Nous, which is described as con 
cerned with indemonstrable prin 
ciples, we can obviously under 
stand by Nous in this sense only 
the theoretic, not that reason 
which Aristotle calls practical 
and distinguishes from the former 
as a different faculty of the soul 
on no other ground than that it 
(like <j>p6vTiffts, according to the 
passage before us) has to do with 
the TrpzKTbj>, the eVSex^ueroj/, the 
eo-xaTOf (see p. 180, n. 2, supra). 
Finally, it cannot surprise us 
that the eo-^aroi/, with which 
insight is concerned, is said to 
be the object not of tina-Tripr) 
but of aiffQ-riais. For this ea-%aToj/, 
which is found in the conclusion 
of the practical syllogism, is 
that in the fulfilment of which 
action consists, and is always 
therefore a definite and particular 
result ; the eo-xaroj/ is the source 
of the resolution to undertake 
this journey, to assist this one 
who is in need, &c. (cf. p. 180, 
n. 2). But the particular is not 
the object of scientific know 
ledge but of perception ; cf. 
p. 163 sq. While this is so, we 
have to deal in the conclusion 
of the practical syllogism (often 
also, as was shown, p. 180 sq., 
in its minor premise), not only 
with the apprehension of an 
actual fact, but at the same time 
with its subsumption under a 
universal concept (as in the con 
clusion : I wish a good teacher 
Socrates is a good teacher 
Socrates must be my teacher ) ; 
accordingly, not with a simple 

perception but with a perceptive 
judgment. The afoOiiffis, there 
fore, which is concerned with the 
ea-Xarov of practical deliberation 
is not ataQi}(ris ruv /JiW, i.e. the 
apprehension of the sensible 
qualities of objects which are pre 
sent to particular senses (as was 
shown, p. 69 sq. sup., this is always 
accompanied by particular sensa 
tions), but an aivQfiffis of another 
kind. What that kind is is not 
expressly said, but merely indi 
cated by an example : it is like 
that which informs us 3-n T> eV 
TO?S ^aQt]}j.a.TiKols fffxarov rpiycavov, 
that in the analysis of a figure the 
last term which resists all analysis 
is a triangle. (For only so can 
the words be understood, as is 
almost universally recognised ; 
EAMSAUEE S explanation, which 
takes the general proposition to 
meanprimam vel simplioissimam 
omnium figwram essc trianyulum, 
is contradicted by the circum 
stance noted by himself that 
such a proposition is not known 
by afodrj<Tis.) In other words, 
this ctfo-077/ns involves a judgment 
upon the quality of its object. 
But such propositions as this 
must be done differ even from 
the given instance, this is a 
triangle, in that they refer to 
something in the picture and not 
merely to something present to 
the senses. They are therefore 
still further removed from per 
ception in the proper sense than 
it is. Hence he adds : they are 
more of the nature of (pp6vrj(ris ; it 
is more akin to afcr0i7<m. The pas 
sage, therefore, gives good sense, 
and there is no reason to reject the 



so perfectly reproduces that we have no difficulty in re 
cognising in it the virtue of practical reason in other 
words, practical reason educated to a virtue. 1 Its 
object is on the one hand the individual and his good, 
on the other the commonwealth : in the former case it 
is Insight in the narrower sense, in the latter Politics, 
which again is further divided into QBconomics, and the 
sciences of Legislation and Government. 2 In the sure 
discovery of the proper means to the ends indicated by 
Insight consists Prudence ; 3 in right judgment on the 
matters with which practical Insight has to deal, Under 
standing; 4 in so far as a man judges equitably on these 

words from 6n rb eV rots /j.a6. to 
the end, in which case we should 
have to suppose that the actual 
conclusion of the chapter has 
been lost. 

1 Aristotle does not, indeed, 
expressly say so, but he attri 
butes to vovs irpaKTiicbs (see 
p. 180, n. 2) precisely those 
activities in which <pp6vr}ffis ex 
presses itself, viz. Pov\eve(r9ai 
and occupation with the eVSe- 
XO/J-evov, the irpaKr bv ayadbv, the 
tcrxarov, and remarks of both 
that they are concerned with 
matters of afodrjffis, not of 
knowledge (p. 183, n. 4, sujjra). 
These statements are consistent 
only on the supposition that they 
refer to one and the same sub 
ject, and that insight is merely 
the right state of the practical 
reason. PEANTL S view (ibid. p. 
15), that it is the virtue of rb 
Soa<TTiicbv, is refuted even by the 
passage which he quotes on its 
behalf, c. 10, 1142, b, 8 sqq., not 
to speak of c. 3, 1139, b, 15 sqq. 

2 C. 8 sq. 1141, b, 23-1142, 

a, 10 ; cf. p. 136. 

3 Ei>pov\{a, ibid. c. 10; cf. 
p. 118, n. 3, supra. According 
to this account of it, v(3ov\ia 
must not be confounded with 
knowledge into which inquiry 
and deliberation do not enter as 
elements, nor with evo-roxia and 
ayx woia, which discover what is 
right without much deliberation, 
nor with 8o|a, which also is not 
an inquiry ; but it is a definite 
quality of the understanding 
see p. 106, n. 2), viz. 
/3of Af/s 7] Kara rb w^eAt/uoj/, 
Kal ov 8e? Kal &s Kal ore. And we 
must further here distinguish 
between rb air\S>s ev fiefiov\fvffQai 
and rb irpos ri re Aos eu )3e/3ouA- 
va9ai. Only the former deserves 
unconditionally to be called 
eu)8oiA/a, which is therefore de 
fined as bpQoTt]s r) Kara rb crvp-tyepov 
irp6s TI reAos, ov 77 

ibid. c. 11. Its 
relation to (ppovriffis is described 
1143, a, 6 : irepl TO. avra p.\v rrj 
(f)povf](ri. eVrif, OUK tffn 5e ravrbv 



matters towards others, we call him Right-minded. 1 
Just, therefore, as all perfection of theoretic reason is 
included in Wisdpjn. so all the virtues of the practical 
reason are traced back to Insight. 2 /The natural basis 
of insight is the intellectual acuteness which enables us 
to find and apply the proper means to a given end.^ 
If this is turned to good ends it becomes a virtue, in the 
opposite case a vice ; so that the root from which spring 
the insight of the virtuous man and the cunning of the 
knave is one and the same. 4 The character of our ends A 
however, depends in the first instance upon our will, and \ 
the character of our will upon our virtue ; and in that 
sense insight may be said to be conditioned by virtue. 5 

avvtffis teal <pp6vf)<ns ? j juej/ yap 
(ppovritfLS fiTLTaKTUc i effTiv T I yap 
Sel Trpoirreii/ v) /mri, rb TC\OS avrTJs 
eo~Tiv /) Se avve/ris 
It consists eV T 
eVi rb Kpiveiv irepl TOVTUV irepl &v 
i] <ppoi>T]!r!s fffTiv, a\\ov \iyavTOs, 
Ka\ Kpivtiv Ka\ws. 

j, KaO Tf]v evyv&uovas Kal 
yvd!>/J.r)v, is accordlDg 
to c. 11, 1143, a, 19 sqq. rj TOV 
eViei/fous Kpiffis 6p9^, similarly 
(Tvyyvct>/j.ri = yvu/j. r] KpiTiKr] TOV 
tirifKovs bpQ-i}. All right conduct 
towards others, however, has to 
do with equity (c. 12, 1143, a, 

2 Aristotle accordingly con 
cludes the discussion of the 
dianoetic virtues with the words : 
ri jueic ovv icrrlv r) (ppovriais Ko.l f) 
ffocpia . . , efyTjrcu, so that he 
himself appears to regard these 
as representative of the t\vo chief 
classes of the dianoetic virtues. 
There is this difference, moreover, 
between them and most of the 
others (c. 12, 1143, b, 6 sq. c. 9, 

1142, a, 11 sqq.) that while vovs, 
ffvv<ris and yvca/n-rj are to a certain 
extent natural gifts, <ro(pia and 
(ppovrjffis are not. 

3 Ibid. c. 13, 1144, a, 23 : t<rn 
ST? ris 8vva/ V KaXovvi SftvortjTa. 
avrrj 5 eVri roiavrri &<TT ra Trpbs 
TOV viroTtOevTa Q-KOTT OV crvvTzivovTa 
8vvao-dai ravTa Trpdrrfiv Ka] rvy- 

4 lUd. 1. 26 : Uv ply of>v 6 

rj Ka\bs, ciraivtT-f) effriv, av 
Se (j)av\os, iravovpyia. VII. 11, 
1152, a, 11 : Sia T& TT]V 
5ia<pfpeiv rrjs (ppovftffecas TOV 
fvov Tpoirov . . . Kal KaTa fj.ev Tbv 
\6yov tyyvs etvat, Siafpepeiv Se Kara 
Tt)v irpoa peffii . 8ee above. Plato 
had already remarked (Rej>. vi. 
491 E)that the same natural gift 
which rightly guided produces I 
great virtue, under wrong guid-| 
ance is the source of great vice. 

5 Etli. vi. 13, 11 44, a, 8, 20 (see 
p. 182, n. 5, iuj)). Ibid. 1. 28 (after 
the words quoted n. 3, 4 ) : e<m 5 
r\ (f>p6vT]o~is oi>x ^ Siv6rr]s, etAA. 
ovic avev Trjs Svvduews Taurus, i\ 


But, conversely, virtue may also be said to be condi 
tioned by insight ; l for just as virtue directs the will 
to good objects, insight teaches it the proper means to 
employ in the pursuit of them. 2 Moral virtue, there 
fore, and insight reciprocally condition one another : 
the former gives the will a bent in the direction of 
the good, while the latter tells us what actions are 
good. 3 The circle in which we seem here to be in 
volved is not really resolved by saying 4 that virtue and 
insight come into existence and grow up together by a 
gradual process of habituation ; that every single vir 
tuous action presupposes insight, every instance of true 
practical insight virtue ; 5 but that if we are in search 
of the primal germ from which both of these are evolved, 
we must look for it in education, by which the insight | 
of the older generation produces the virtue of the 
younger. This solution might suffice if we were deal 
ing merely with the moral development of individuals, 

5 6|is [which here, as p. 153, vi. 13, 1145, a, 4: OUK earo.i TJ 

n. 3, xnpra, indicates a permanent irpoaipevis op6^ uvev $poi"h<rews ovV 

quality] rw ofji.fJLa.n rovry yiverai ai>ev aptrrjs f? pev yap TO r(\os, rj 

[insight is compared 8e ra npbs rb reAos Trotel irpdrreiv. 

to the eye also] OVK &i>ev aperr/s 3 1144, 1>, 30 : SrjAoy ovv 

of on ov o16v re 

6i yap 

5ta\|/euSeo-0ai irote? -rrepl ias irpaKTi- ayaObv elvai ttvpius avev 

itas apx<is. &<rre tyavephv on dSv- oi/5e $p6i i/j.oi avev T 

varov typovLfjiov elj/at p.7] ovraayaQov. aperrjs. X. 8 ; see p. 178, n. 1 Jin. 

Cf . c. 5, 1 140, b, 17 : r$ 8e 5te</>- supra. 

6apfJi4vtf 5t ^ov^v Ka: AUTTTJI/ evOvs 4 TEENDELENBUEG, Histor. 

ov Qaiverai rj apx*l,ov5e [sc.^a^erat Peitr. \\. 385 sq. 

avrqS] Sell/ rovrov eVe/cez/ /cat 8ia 5 TEEXDELENBlfRG refers on 

rovff alpeto-Oanravra Kal irp6.Treii>. this point to M. Mor, ii. 3, 1200, 

VII. 9, 1151, a, 14 sqq. a, 8 ; ovre yap avev rr)S (pporfifffvs 

1 Eth. vi. 13, 1144, b, 1-32. at &\\ai aperal yivovrat, oW ij 

Cf. preceding note and p. 156, <pp6rn<ris reAeia &vev^ r&v 

n. 3, svpra. apercav, a\\a crvvfpyovffi Tra s- 

2> See p. 182, n. 5, supra. Eih. a\\-f)\wv. 


and with the question whether in time virtue here 
precedes insight or vice versu. But the chief difficulty 
lies in the fact that they condition one another abso 
lutely. Virtue consists in preserving the proper mean, 
which can only be determined by the man of insight. l 
But, if this be so, insight cannot be limited to the mere 
discovery of means for the attainment of moral ends : 
the determination of the true ends themselves is impos 
sible without it ; while, on the other hand, prudence 
merits the name of insight only when it is consecrated 
to the accomplishment of moral ends. 

As insight is the limit of moral virtue in one 
direction, those activities which spring, not from the 
will, but from natural impulse (without, however, on that 
account being wholly withdrawn from the control of the 
will) stand at the other extreme. To this class belong 
the passions. After the discussion, therefore, of insight, 
follows a section of the Ethics which treats of the right 
and wrong attitude towards the passions. Aristotle 
calls the former temperance, the latter intemperance 
distinguishing them from the moral qualities of self- 
control (o-wfypoa-vwrj) and licentiousness, 2 by pointing 
out that while in the case of the latter the control or 
tyranny of the desires rests upon a bent of the will 
founded on principle, in the case of the former it rests 
merely upon the strength or weakness of the will. For 
if all morality centres in the relation of reason to desire, 
and is concerned with pleasure and pain ; 3 if further 
there is in this respect always a wrong as opposed to 

1 Cf. p. 163. 2 P. 167 n. 6, 

3 See p. 156 sq. sujwa. 


the right, a bad as opposed to the good still this opposi 
tion may be of three different degrees and kinds. If 
we suppose on the one hand a perfected virtue, free alike 
from all weakness and vice, and on the other a total 
absence of conscience, we have in the former case a 
divine and heroic perfection which hardly exists among 
men, in the latter a state of brutal insensibility which 
is equally rare. 1 If the character of the will, with 
out being so completely and immutably good or bad as 
in the cases just supposed, yet exhibits in fact either of 
these qualities, we have moral virtue or vice. 2 Finally, if 
we allow ourselves to be carried away by passion, without 
actually willing the evil, this is defined as intemperance 
or effeminacy ; if we resist the seductions of passion, it is 
temperance or constancy. Temperance and intemper 
ance have to do with the same object as self-control and 
licentiousness namely, bodily pain and pleasure. The 
difference lies in this, that while in the case of the 
former wrong conduct springs only from passion, in 
the case of the latter it springs from the character of 
the will. If in the pursuit of bodily pleasure or in 
the avoidance of bodily pain, a man transgresses the 
proper limit from weakness and not from an evil will, 

1 Etlt. vii. 8 itdt. : T>V irepl TO. Aristotle speaks further c. 6, 114, 

tfQ-r] (pevKTav rpta effrlv ei 8?], /ca/aa 8, b, 19, 1149, a, 20, c. 7, 1149, b 

aKpaaia Qr]pi6ri]s. TO. 5 eyavTia 27 sqq. Among bestial desires 

TO?S fj.ev Sval 8ri\a TO juez/ yap he reckons a.<ppodiffia ro?s appeal, by 

apTr)v rb 5 eyKpaTftav Ka\ov/j.j/ which, however, as the context, 

rpbs 5e rV OypdrriTa /j-dXiffr av shows, he means only passive 

\eyew T))V vTrep Tj^tas not active TrcuSepacrria. 

WO. Kal 9etav ... 2 See preceding note and the 

al yap wcTTrep ovSe Or]piov eVrl /cawla remarks which follow upon the 
vd apeTT], OUTCOS owSe 0eoO, aAA rj relation of (rcafypoavi r) and d/coAo- 

Ti/juwrepov dpT7]s, i] 5 eT6p6v ffia to fyKpaTcia and aKpa<r(a, be- 
yevos Kanlas. &C. Of Qt]pi6rf]s sides p. 160 sq. 



in the former case he is intemperate, in thelatter effemi 
nate ; if he preserves the proper limit, he is temperate 
or constant. 1 The latter type of man still differs from 

1 Ibid. C. 6 : oVt /uei/ ovv Trepl 
f/Soi/ds Kal\vtras elalv otV e 7/cpaTets 
Kal KaprepiKol Kal ot d/cpaTe?s ital fj.a- 
Aa/fol, (pavep6v. More accurately, 
these qualities, like o-co^poo-uj/rjand 
d/coAao-ta, refer to bodily pain and 
pleasure; only in an improper 
sense can we speak of xP r )/ J - aTWV 
a/cpareTs Kal /cepSovs Kal TI/J.TJS Kal 
dvuov. TUV 8e Trepl ras o"ajjuaTiKas 
S, Trepl as Ae^Oyuei/ TOI> 
Ka\ aKoXaGTOV, 6 ^ Tip 
Trpoaipf io Oat T&V 7)8rtj/a>j/ SidaKwv Tas 
i)Trep/3oAds Kal TWV \virT)pu>v (pevyuv 
. . . dAAa irapa irpoaipe(rii> Kal rrjv 
Sidvoiav, aKpa-rrjs Aeyeraf, ou /card 
irp6(Tdecnv, KaQdirep 6p7fys,dAA a7rAa>$ 
p6vov. MaAa/c;o refers to the same 
objects. The aKpar^s, therefore, 
and the a/cdAao-ros, the fjKpar^s 
and the o-w^pwi/, etVl /xei/ Trepl 
ravra, a\\ ovx wffavTws eivlv, 
dAA ot i*ev TrpoaipovvTai ol 5 ou 
TrpoaipovvTai. Sib /j.a\\ov a 

Uv 6t7TOt/i6J/, 00"TiS (J. 

rip/j.a 5ic6/cet ras inrepfioAas Kal 
(pevyei fjierpias Auiras, ^ rovrov 
tiffris Stci T^> eirtOv^v (T<p6Spa. 
C. 8 init. : in reference to the 
said objects, eo-rt /j.ev OVTWS ex flv 
ai Kal &v ol iro\\ol 
, eo*rt 5e Kpartiv Kal wv ol 


Trepl ffSovas d/cpOT^j 6 5 tyKparfys, 
6 5e Trepl Xinras /j.a\aKos 6 8e 
icafjrepiKos . . . o fj.fv ras uTrep- 
fio\as SiuKcav ra>v rjSe w?/ ?) Kcntf 
L7repj8oAds 7^ Std Trpoatpeo tJ , St 
auras al jurjSev 5t erepov aTrofia ivov, 
aicoXaa-ros . . . 6 5 tXKtiirwv 6 
di/Tt/ce//xe^os, 6 8e jiieVos ffdctypav. 
6/j.iocas Se /cal 6 (pevywv Tas o"a>ua- 
Ttds Ai/rras ^ St J\TTav dAAa Std 
Trpoatpeirtj/. The /uaAa/cbs, on the 

other hand (who is defined 1150, 
b, 1 as e AAeiTrcol/ Trpbs a ot TroAAol Kal 
avTiTfivovo i Kal SvvavTai), avoids 
pain undesignedly. di/TiKetrat 
5e T(f /j.ev awparet 6 eyKpaTys, T$ 8e 
jixaAa/c&iJ 6 /caprept/fos. C. 9, 1151, a, 
11 : the d/co Aao-Tos desires im 
moderate bodily enjoyments on 
principle (5td TO ireTreTo-^at), this 
desire having its roots in his 
moral character as a whole (Std 
TO TOtowTos elj/at olos Stco/cety auTas) 
. . . eo"Tt Se Tts Std TTO^OS eKffTa- 
TIKOS irapa TOJ/ opdbv \6yov, bv &o~T 
/jLfis fj.i] TrpaTTeti/ KOTa TOV 6pdbv 
\6yov KpaTel TO irdOos, S>ffT 5 
elvat TOIOVTOV olov Trewe io Oai StwKeiv 
SeTi/ Tas TOtairras TjSoms ov 
ovT6s fffTiv 6 aKpaT^s 
U aKO\d(7TOv, ouSe (/>aGAos 
ai 7ap TO 0e\Ti<TTOV, 
7) dpx77. aAAos 8 eVavTtos, 6 ffj.jj.fv- 
eriKos Kal OVK fKffTaTiKos Sta 76 TO 
/ra0os (and so, previously, c. 4, 
1146,b,22). C. 11, 1152, a, 15: the 
intemperate man acts indeed 
e/cw^, Trovrjpbs 8 ov ^ 7ap Trpoatpetrts 
eTrtei/crjs coo"0 i)fj.nr6j/ir]pos. He 
resembles a state which has good 
laws but which does not observe 
them ; the irovnp bs one in which 
the laws are observed, but are 
bad. He differs, therefore, from 
the d/co Aaff Tos in that he feels re 
morse for his actions (cf. Eth. 
iii. 2, p. 590 mid. above) and 
is therefore not so incurable as 
the latter. Accordingly, Aristotle 
compares excess with epilepsy, 
aKoXatria with dropsy and con 
sumption (c. 8, 1150, a, 21, c. 9 
init. ). Two kinds of intemper 
ance are further distinguished, 
do"0eVeta and TrpoTreVeta, that 


the man who is virtuous in the proper sense ( 
in that he is still struggling with evil desires, from 
which the other is free. 1 The general question of how 
and how far it is possible to act from intemperance, and 
to let our better knowledge be overpowered by desire, 
has been already discussed. 2 

3. Friendship 

Upon the account of all that relates to the virtue of 
the individual, there follows, as already mentioned, a 
treatise upon Friendship. So morally beautiful is the 
conception of this relationship which we find here 
unfolded, so deep the feeling of its indispensableness, 
so pure and disinterested the character assigned to it, 
so kindly the disposition that is indicated, so profuse 
the wealth of refined and happy thoughts, that 
Aristotle could have left us no more splendid memorial 
of his own heart and character. Aristotle justifies him 
self for admitting a discussion upon Friendship into 
the Ethics partly by the remark that it also belongs to 
the account of virtue, 3 but chiefly on the ground of the 

which is deliberately pursued and excusable are exaggerations of 

that which, springing from vio- noble impulses (c. 6, 1148, a, 22 

lence of temper, is thoughtlessly sqq.). Onanger, fear, compassion, 

pursued ; of these the latter is envy, &c. see also lihet. ii. 2, 

described as more curable (c. 8, 5-11. 

1150, b, 19 sqq. c. 11, 1152, a, 18, C. 11, 1151, b, 34: g T f yap 

27). The inconstancy of the in- eyKparys otos /uijSej/ trapa riv 

temperate man finds its opposite Xoyov Sia ras aw/mar titas yjSoj/as 

extreme in the headstrong and Troielv /cal 6 ffdtxbpcav, a\\ 6 

self-willed roan (iVxt/poyvc^coi/, %x wv & ^ OVK l^cui/ </>^Aas eVt- 

iSioyvw/uuv, c. 10, 1151, b, 4). The 6v/j.ias, iral 6 p.ev TOIOVTOS olos /JL^J 

excesses of anger are less to be "jSeo-flcu irapa. r^bv \6yov, 6 S oTos 

blamed than those of intern- ^SecrQai a\\a JJ.YI ayeaQai. 
perance (c. 7, c. 8, 1150, a, 25 * P. 155 (EtJi. vii. 5.) 

sqq. ; cf. v. 10, 1135, b, 20-29 3 !<TTI yap apery TLS $ ^er 

and p. 113, n. 1); still more aperris : viii. 1 init. 


significance it has for human life. Everyone requires 
friends : l the happy man, that he may keep his happi 
ness and enjoy it by sharing it with others ; 2 the 
afflicted, for comfort and support ; youth, for advice ; 
manhood, for united action ; old age, for assistance. 
Friendship is a law of nature : it unites parents and 
children by a natural bond, citizen with citizen, 
, man with man. 3 What justice demands is supplied 
in the highest degree by friendship, for it produces a 
unanimity in which there no longer occurs any viola 
tion of mutual rights. 4 It is, therefore, not only 
outwardly but morally necessary. 5 The social impulses 
of man find in it their most immediate expression and 
satisfaction ; and just for this reason it constitutes in 
Aristotle s view an essential part of Ethics. For as Ethics 
is conceived by him in general as Politics, and the moral 
life as life in society, 6 so no account of moral activity 
can be to him complete which does not represent it as 

1 For what follows see Etli. 4 Ibid. 1. 24 sqq.; hence, 
viii. 1, 1155, a, 4-16. (pi\cav /j.kv ovrtav oiSei/ Set SIKO.IO- 

2 Ibid. avev yap fyiXiav ouSels ffvvt]s, Si/catot 5 ovres TrpocrSeovrai 
eAorr &y fjv, e^ow ra \onra ayaOa (pi\ias, Kal T&V SiKaiwv rb /aaXiara 
Travra ... ri yap wpeAos TTJS (pi\iKbv elj/cu So/ce? [the highest 
roiavTrjs ei6T7jpias a<cupe0ei0-7js justice is the justice of friends!. 
fvepytarias, 5? yiyverai /xaAitrra Kal 5 L. 28 ; ou fj.6vov 8 avayxaiov 
eTraii/ereoTaTTj Trpbs (plAovs. iffriv aAAa Kal KaXov. 

3 Ibid. c. 16-26, where inter 6 See on this line p. 186, n. 1. 
alia : ftSot 8 av ns Kal eV TO?S Etli. x. 7, 1177, a, 30 : b /j.fv 
Tr\dvais [wanderings] ws olKtiov SiKaios Sen-cu Trpbs ovs SiKaioirpay- 
aTras avQpwnos avOpcoirq) Kal (pi\ov. Tjcret Kal /ue# wi/, O/ULO IWS 8e Kal 6 
Of. ix. 9, 1169, b, 17 : aroirov 8 , (Tiacppuj/ Kal o aj/Spelos Kal roav 
taws Kal rb p.ov(t>rf]V ITOIC LV rbv aAAcov fKaaros, only theoretic 
p.aKa.pLov ovdels yap lAotr 1 &i/ KaO virtue is self-sufficient ; c. 8, 1178, 
a JTbv TO. TrdvT* e^eu/ aya6d TTO\I- b, 5: ^ 8 avOpcairos eVrt Kal 
rtKbis yap 6 av9p<aTros Kal <rvrjv irAetWi ffv($ aipslrai TO. /car aperV 
ire(pvK6s. On this see further Trparreij/. Cf. p. 144, n. 1, supra, 


socially constructive. The examination, therefore, of 
Friendship, while completing the study of Ethics 
constitutes at the same time the link which unites it 
with the doctrine of the State. 1 

By friendship Aristotle understands in general 
e^ery relationship of mutual good will of which both 
parties are conscious. 2 This relationship, however, will 
assume a different character according to the nature of 
the basis upon which it rests. The objects of our 
attachment are in general three : the good, the plea- * 
surable, and the useful ; 3 and in our friends it will 
be sometimes one of these, sometimes another, which 
attracts us. We seek their friendship either on 
account of the advantages which we expect from them 
or on account of the pleasure which they give us, or on 
account of the good that we find in them. A true 
friendship, however, can be based only upon the last 
of these three motives. He who loves his friend only 
for the sake of the profit or the pleasure which he 
obtains from him, does not truly love him, but only his 
own advantage and enjoyment ; with these accord 
ingly his friendship changes. 4 True friendship exists 

1 Aristotle inserts, however, ship only when each knows that 
two sections upon pleasure and the other wishes him well. The 
happiness between them, in the definition of the (f>i\os, Rhrt. i. 
tenth book thus connecting the 5, 1361, b, 36, as one oaris i 
end of the Ethics with the begin- oferai aya9a elvat e/cetVw, irpaKTiicos 
ning, where the end of human eVrjj/ avrw 5t e/ce?j/oi/, is a super- 
effort had been defined as happi- ficial one for rhetorical purposes 
nes s- 3 Ibid. 1155. b, 18: 8o K e?ybp 

- VIII. 2, 1155, b, 31 sqq. oil irav QiXtta-eai aAAa rb (pi\f] T bv 

(where, however, 1. 33, ^ must rovro 5 elvai aya6bv % ySb j) 

be omitted after ii/). Friend- -^ffi^ov. 

ship is here defined as etvoia, ev " * Ibid. c. 3, 5. Friendships I 

avTiireiroveoari ^ Xav6dvov(roi, as for the sake of profit are formed 

mutual good will becomes friend- for the most part among older 



between those alone who have spiritual affinities with 
one another, and is founded upon virtue and esteem. 
In such a friendship each loves the other for what he 
is in himself. He seeks his personal advantage and 
pleasure in that which is good absolutely and in itself. 
Such a friendship cannot be formed quickly, for the 
friend must be tried by long intercourse before he can 
be trusted ; l nor can it be extended to many, for an 
inner relationship and a close acquaintance is only 
possible with a few at the same time. 2 It is, moreover, 
no mere matter of feeling and inclination, however indis 
pensable these may be to it, but of character, 3 of which 
it is as lasting an element as the virtue to which it is 

dyaBoi [for they are so in so far as 
they are good]. OVTOI JJLSV ovv 
dir\(t>s (pi Aot, e/celVoi Se Kara tfu/XjSe- 
/STJKOS Kal T< wfj-oitoffOai TOVTOIS. 
Cf. n. 2 on following page. 

2 VIII. 7, 1158, a, 10 sqq., and 
still more fully ix. 10. 

3 VIII. 7, 1157, b, 28 : eWe 
8 : 77 (iiei/ (piATjcm Traflet, 73 Se 
(ptAia e et (on eis, see p. 285, 
n. 3, and p. 153, n. 3, supra} rj 
yap (ptATjcris ovx TJTTOI/ Trpos ra 

e eo>s, al TayaOd fiovXovTai rots 
<pi\ov[AfVois fKGivwv eVe/ca, o j KaTa 
rrddos dAAa /ca0 e u/. But on the 
other hand, as is further re 
marked, mutual pleasure in one 
another s society is an element in 
friendship ; of morose persons it 
is said, ibid. 1158, a, 7 : of TOIOV- 
roi fvvoi IJLSV elaiv aAA7)Aois Qov- 
XovTai yap Ta.ya.Qd KO.\ diravTUffiv 
CLS Tas xpeias (f)L\oi 8 ov irdvv 
eiVl Sia Tb fj.1] (rvvr]fji.pveLV /irjSe 
aAA^Aots, a 877 ^aAtoV elvai 

people ; those that are for the sake 
of pleasure, among the young. 
Only the latter require that, the 
friends should live together, and 
they are least durable when the 
parties are unlike one another 
and pursue different ends : the 
one, for instance (as in unworthy 
love affairs), his own pleasure, the 
other his advantage. Cf, c. 10, 
1159, b, 15, ix. 1, 1161, a, 3 sqq. 

1 VIII. 4 init. : reAeia 8 eVrli/ 
7j T<av ayaOuv </uAia Kal /car 1 cipe- 
T-//J OJJLO IUV OUT ot yap To.yo.Qa. 
ofjioius fiov\ovrai aAA^Aoiy ij dya- 
0oi dyadol 8 fial Kad aurovs. of 
8e /3ouAo;U,ej/oi Ta.ya.6v. TO?S (piXois 

vs yap OVTUS 4x ov(ri KC " " KaTa 
Kos [they are friends for 
the sake of one another and not 
of merely accidental object] 
Siafj-f veL ovv f? TOVTUIV (piAtcc ecos Uv 
ayadol 3io~iv, 77 8 dperr) fj.6viiu.ov. 
Ibid. c. 6 init. : of fj-fv fyavXoi 
ftfovrai (f>l\oi 8t rjSoi/V $) TO XP^~ 

fflUOV, TOMTT] OfJ.0101 UVTfS, 01 8 

ayaOol Si UUTOVS ^(Aot rj yap 



equivalent. Every other kind, attaching as it does to 
what is external and unessential, is merely an imperfect 
copy of this true friendship. 1 This requires that 
friends should love only the good in one another, that 
they should receive only good from one another and 
return only good. 2 Virtuous men, on the other hand, 
neither demand nor perform any unworthy service to 
one another, nor even permit it to be done for them. 3 
it just as true friendship rests on likeness and 
equality of character and spiritual gifts, all friendship 
may be said to rest upon equality. 4 The equality is 

1 See n. 1 on preceding page, 
and viii. 8, 1158, b, 4 sqq. c. 10, 
1159, b, 2 sqq. 

* 0. 4, 1156, b, 12: eVrti/ 
(KaTepos air\cas ayaObs Kal T<$ fyiXa) 
[each is not only per se good, 
but a good to his friend], ot yap 
ayaOol Kal airXcas ayaOol ital dAAr/- 
Aots ox^eAtyUOi. 6/j.oicas 5e Kal f/SeTs 
Kal yap curAcos ol ayaOol TjSets /cat 
aAArjAoiS eKatTTCf yap Ka9 fiSovf)]/ 
etVu/ at olicelai irpdl-tis Kal at TOIUV- 
Tat, TWV ayaOoiiv 5e at avTal 71 
6/j.oiai. c. 7, 1157, b, 33: fyiXovv- 
Tes TOV (piAov TO ai>TO?s ayaObv 
<t>i\ovffiv 6 yap ayaObs (pi\os yej/6- 
fj.evos ayadbv yiveTai $ (pi\os e/ca- 
Tepos ovv ^>tAe? Te TO avTy ayaQbv, 
Kal TO "iffov avTaTroSiSuxn Trj Bov\r)- 
ffi Kal T<$ TjSeT Ae^eTat yap 
<$>iX6Tt}s f) tVoTTjs [or with Cod. 
K b omit ^, so that the same pro 
verb is here cited as ix. 8, 1168, b, v\ov<ri v , aj^aO^s elSon- ov a 
ydp ^tAoTTjs lo-6Tr, s -] rvyxdvci T is eVSefc to TO^TOU 
f T; TWV ayaOwv Tavff fyttfuwts dmSupctTat a\\ v . This 
is so even in the case of lovers. 

tvavTiov Ka8 avrb, ciAAa KaTa 

effTiv. TOVTO yap dyaSov. Cf 
n. 2, supra. 

TO (pL\e?i/ eot/cei/ [which we 
cannot explain with BEANDIS, p. 
1476, as the love of friends is like 
the love of their virtue, for the 
words preceding forbid this trans 
lation ; the meaning i s : < i nas . 
much as love is a praiseworthy 
thing, it is a kind of perfection 
m the friends, or is based upon 
perfection; as, therefore the 
friendship that rests upon actual 
merits is lasting, that which rests 
upon true love must be so too]. 
SOT 1 fV ots TOTO yivtTai /COT d|taj/, 

OL-TOt fttviflOl (})i\0l Kal J! 

<pi\ia. oVru 5 ^ Ka l O l 


Iff6rns teal 6fj.oi6rns 
v r, 

5e fj.d\io-Ta 


3 C. 10, 1159, b, 4. 

4 See n. 3 on preceding page, 
and viii. 10, 1159, a, 34 : 

TTJS (ptAtas ovffrjs ev TO? 

o 2 



perfect when both parties, besides having like objects 
in view, are like one another in respect of worth. 
When, 011 the other hand, the object of each is dif 
ferent, 1 or when one of the parties is superior to the 
other, 2 we have proportional instead of perfect equality 
or analogy : each lays claim to love and service from 
the other, proportionate to his worth to him. 3 Friend 
ship is thus akin to justice, in which also the question 
is one of the establishment of equality in the reW 
tions of human society ; 4 / but law and right take 

1 As in the case of the lover 
and his beloved, or the artist and 
his pupil, in which the one party 
seeks pleasure, the other advan 
tage ; or of the sophist and his 
disciple, in which the former 
teaches and the latter pays ; ix. 1, 
1164, a, 2-32 : cf. p. 193, n. 4, mp. 

- E.g. the relation of parents 
and children, elders and youths, 
man and wife, ruler and ruled, 
viii. 8, 1158, a, 8, and elsewhere. 

3 VIII. 8 init. : eiVt 5 olv al 
e/pr/juei/at (ptAi cu eV tVorr/rt ra yap 
avra yiyverai oV d^olv Kal fiovXov- 
rai dAA^Aois 3) erepov dvQ erepov 

OlOV i)$OVT)V 

c. 15 init. : rpir- 

V V iffOTfjri <pih(i)V 

ijVTWV ru>v Se Krt0 uirepoxV (.Kal 
yap 6fjLoiws dyadol <pi\oi yivovrai Kal 
afj.iv(*)v Ycipovi, o/jioius 8e Kai ijoets, 

o^eAei cus Kal 5ia<pe poj/Tes) rovs 
*LO~OVS uev KOT lff6TfjTa Set TCI> (pi^-fiv 
Kal TO?S AoiTroTs iffdfriv, rovs S 
dvtffovs rep dvd\oyov rats virepo^ais 
diroSiSova i. c. 8, 1158, b, 17 (after 
citing examples of friendship in 
unlike relations) : erepayapkKdo-rov 
rovruv dper^ Kal rb epyov, erepa 
Se Kal { a d>i\ovffiv erepai ovv Kal 

ai/r a><f>eAei as-. 
TU>V 8 ovcrwv 


al ^i\-fi<rfis Kal a! $i\iai. Parents 
perform a different service for 
children from that which chil 
dren perform for parents; so 
long as each party does the duty 
that belongs to it they are in a 
right and enduring relation to 
each other. dvaKoyov 5 eV trdaais 
rats KaO vircpo^v ovcrais <pi\iais 
Kal T^V </MA7j<rti/ 5e? yivevBai, olov 
rbv dfjt,eivci) /*a\\ov (pi\f?ff6ai ^ 
</>iAeTi/, Kal rbv uxpeXi/awrepov, Kal 
TUV a\Ac0v Ka(TTov 6/j.oius OTav 
yap /car diav TJ <pi\f)ffis yiyvt]-Tai, 
r6r yiyverai irus ia6 n}s 6 S^j rrjs 
(pi\ias elvat SOKC?. Cf. C. 13, 1161, 
a, 21, c. 16, 1163, b, 11 : rb /car 
dtfav yap (iraviffol Kal <T&&I r^v 
<pi\iav. ix. 1 init. : eV trdo~ais 
5e rdis dvOjUoeiSe o-t (piXiais [those 
in which the two parties pursue 
different ends] rb dvd\oyov Icd&i 
Kal o~wfi TT]V fyiXlav, Kaddirep 
olov Kal eV Ty iroAiriKi) T^ 
c dvrl TWV 

yvtrai /car a , c. 
VIII. 11 init.: eoi/ce Se . . j 
irepl ravra Kal eV Tols avrols elvat 
% re <pi\ta Kal rb SiKaiov ev airdo-r) 
yap Koivuvia SOKC ITI 5 iKaiov elvai Kal 
<bi\ia 5e. . . . /cafl Offov 5e KOIVCDVOV- 
ffiv, firl roffovrov effri ^>i\ia Kal yap 
rb oiKaiov. Cf. p. 192, n. 4, supra. 


account in the first instance of relations of inequality, 
in which individuals are treated in proportion to their 
worth, and only secondarily of relations of equality, 
whereas in friendship the reverse is the case : that 
which is primary and perfect is the friendship between 
equals, while that which exists between those who are 
not equals is only secondary. 1 

Aristotle next discusses those connections which 
are analogous to friendship in the narrower sense. He 
remarks that every community, even such as exists for 
a special purpose, involves a kind of friendship, and he 
shows especially with regard to that form of community 
which embraces all others namely, the political what 
personal relations correspond to its principal forms, that 
is, to the various kinds of constitution. 2 From these, 
which are more of the nature of contracts, he then pro 
ceeds to separate the relationships of kindred and pure 

^ VI1T. 9 init : 01^ fyio wy 8e master and slave, no friendship 

rb taov ej/ re TO?S StKa ots KCU eV is possible ; but in such cases 

rfj (f>i\ia Qaivfrai ^x flv * ffri 7P there are not even rights (c. 18, 

eV p.fv TOIS SiKaiois "HTOV irpwrvs rb ibid. ; cf. x. 8, 1 1 78, b, 10). The 

ar alav [i.e. 5iave/j.r)TiKbv SLKCUOV, distinction, as a whole, is rather 

which is based upon analogy ; a trifling one, and it is obvious 

see p. 171 sqq.], rb Se /caret troabv from the quotations on p. 196, n. 4, 

[i.e. SiopOuriKov, which proceeds and p. 192, n. 4. supra,, that it was 

upon the principle of arithmetical not accepted even by Aristotle 

equality] Seurepcos, eV 5e TTJ fyiXia himself as exhaustive of the sub- 

rb p.ev Kara Troabv Trpwrws [since ject. The reason is to be found in 

perfect friendship, of which all the obscurity caused by his failure 

other forms are imperfect imita- clearly to separate between the 

tions, is that which is concluded legal and the moral side of 

between persons equally worthy justice. 

for the sake of their worth ; see p. 2 On the special relations of 

194, n. 1, and 195, n. 2, supra], rb travelling companions, comrades 

Se /car diav Sevrepus : in support of in war, members of clans, guilds, 

which Aristotle points to the fact &c., of. viii. 11; on the State 

that where the inequality is very and the various forms of consti- 

great, as in the case of men and tution, c. 12 sq., and p. 196, n. 

gods or (c. 13, 1161, a, 32 sqq.) 4, supra. 


friendship. 1 On the same principle lie distinguishes later 
on 2 two kinds of the friendship which rests on mutual 
advantage, which are related to one another as written 
to unwritten law : the legal, in which the mutual 
obligations are definitely fixed, and which therefore is 
merely a form of contract ; and the moral, in which the 
services to be rendered are left to the good will of the 
individual. Aristotle further examines the occasions 
which give rise to discord and separation between 
friends. He remarks that it is chiefly in friendship for 
the sake of advantage that mutual recriminations arise, 
for where friendship is cherished for the sake of virtue 
there is a rivalry in mutual service, which successfully 
excludes any sense of unfairness oh either side ; where 
it is founded merely upon pleasure it is likewise 
impossible for either party to complain of unfairness, if 
he fails to find what he seeks. On the other hand, the 
man who performs a friendly service in the hope of 
obtaining a like return, too often finds himself disap 
pointed in his expectations. 3 The same may be said of 
friendships between unequals. Here also unfair claims 
are frequently made, whereas justice demands that the 
more worthy should be recompensed for that which 
cannot be repaid to him in kind by a corresponding 
measure of honour. 4 Finally, misunderstandings easily 

1 VIII. 11 inlt.: eV ^Koivwvia. art- discussed in c. 14, partly a!j| 

/icy oi>v irtHTa <}>i\ia effrlv, Ka&dirsp c. 12 sq. We shall ret urn to these 

f ipT)Tai- d(pnpifreif 8 &v ris rrjf re in the section upon the Family. 
(rwyyevutfyv Koi rrjv eTcuptKTjp. ai " VIII. 15, 1102, b, 21 sqq. 

3e TroXiTLKal KOI <f)v\TiKal KOI 3 See the interesting discus-\oiKai, KOI ovai Toiav-rai, KOI- sion in viii. 15. Cf. also what is 

vuvtKois eoiKaffi /j.a\\ov olov yap said on the relation of teacher 

/ca9 o^oXoylav nva fyaivovrou flvat. and scholar, ix. 1. 11 04, a, 32 sqr 
els TavTas 8e rd^eiev &v TIS Kal TT\V 4 VIII. 1(5. 

. Relationships of kindred 


arise where each party has a different object in view in 
entering upon the alliance. 1 Aristotle further discusses 
the cases where a man s duty towards his friend con 
flicts with his duty towards others, and he lays down 
the wise principle that in each case we must consider 
the peculiar obligations which the circumstances in 
volve. 2 He asks whether a friendly alliance should be 
dissolved if one of the parties to it changes, and he 
answers that separation is unavoidable in cases where 
the change is one in the essential conditions of the 
connection. 3 He surveys the relation between love of 
self and love of friends, recognising in the latter a 
reflection of the attitude which the virtuous man main 
tains towards himself; 4 and he connects with this the 
question whether one should love oneself or one s 
friend more, deciding it by pointing out that it is 
impossible that there should be any real opposition 

1 For the fuller discussion of been deceived in a friend, sup- 
this case see ix. 1 ; cf . p. 193, n. 4, posing oneself to have been loved 
supra. disinterestedly (Starb ?)0os), while 

2 IX. 2, especially 11C5, a, 16, with the other it was only a 
30 : eVel 8 erepa yovevffi Kal d5eA- matter of pleasure or profit. 1 f 
</>ois Kal traipois KCU vpyerais, a friend degenerates morally, 
fKaarois TO. ot/ceTa Kal ra apfMor- the first duty is to aid him in 
TOJ/TCC airovij.r)T(oi> . . . ital ffvy- recovering himself, but if lie 
yeveai Sr) KOI (puAeVcus Kal iroXirais proves incurable, separation is 
Kal TCHS \onrots awa<nv ael TretpareW the only resource, for one cannot 
TO oiKtlov aTroWyueiv, Kal avyKpivtiv and ought not to love a bad 
ret eKaffroLs virdpxovTa KCCT oiKei6~ man. If, lastly, as is often the 
TTjra Kal aper^v $ x^l ffLV - When case in youthful companionships, 
the relation is homogeneous this the one outruns the other in 
comparison is easier : when he- moral and intellectual develop- 
terogeneous, it is more difficult ment, true fellowship becomes 
to make ; but even in the latter henceforth impossible; neverthe- 
case it cannot be neglected. less, the early connection should 

3 IX. 3: this is, oE course, be honoured as much as it 

the case where the friendship is fcan be. 

based upon pleasure or advan- 4 IX. 4, Hid. 1.166, b, 6-2 .), 

tage ; or, again, when one has where the discord in the soul of 


between the claims of those two, since true self-love con 
sists in coveting for ourselves what is best i.e. the 
morally beautiful and great ; but we participate in this 
only the more fully in proportion to the sacrifice we make 
for a friend. 1 In the same spirit Aristotle expresses him 
self (to pass over other points 2 ) upon the view that the 
happy man can dispense with friends. He denies this 
on many grounds. 3 The happy man, he says, needs 
friends whom he may benefit ; the contemplation of 
their excellence affords a high sense of enjoyment akin 
to the consciousness of one s own ; it is easier to 
energise in company with others than alone ; one gains 
moral iiivigoration for oneself from intercourse with 
good men. Above all, man is by nature formed for 
association with others, and the happy man can least 
afford to lead a solitary life ; 4 for just as to each man 
his own life and activity is a good, and his consciousness 
of that life and activity a pleasure, so also the existence 
of a friend, in whom his own existence is doubled, and 
the consciousness of this existence, which he enjoys in 
intercourse with him, must be a joy and a good. 5 But 

the wicked is depicted with re- children (c. 8) ; the number of 

markable truth, and the moral one s friends, which ought to be 

is drawn consistently with the neither too small nor too great, 

practical aim of the Etliws : ei 8r) but ought to include so many 

TO ovrcas %Xtiv XLO.V ecrrlv a9\iov, ocroi tls TO ffv^fjv ifcavoi, seeing 

tyevKTfoi Tr)v ^oxO"npiav Siarera- that a close relationship is pos- 

f.(.ei/ws c. sible only between few, the 

1 IX. 8, see p. 133, n. 2, supra, closest (epus as uTrepjSoA^ ^tAioy), 
ad Jin., p. 151, n. 2, supra, only between two; although of 

2 The relation of evvoia (ix. political friends (members of the 
5) and o>oVoia (c. 6) to <f>t\ia same party) one can have a great 
the apparent fact that the bene- number. 

factor usually loves the benefited 3 IX. 9, cf. viii. 1. 1155, a, 5. 

more than the latter the former, 4 IX, 9, 1169, b, 1 7; see p. 192, 

every one loving his own produc- n. 3, supra. 

tion, as the mother does her 5 Ibid. 1170, a, 13 sqq. where, 


if we ask further whether we require friends more in 
prosperity or adversity, the answer is, 1 that it is more 
necessary to possess them in adversity, nobler in 
prosperity. 2 In the former case we are more in need of 
their help ; manly natures, which know how to bear 
pain alone, have more need of friendly sympathy in the 
other case. A man ought to be eager to invite his 
friends to share his joys, loath to have recourse to them 
in sorrow ; on the other hand, he ought to be more 
ready to hasten to them when they are in trouble than 
in joy. True friendship, however, demands both. 3 
Friendship is an association and community of life, an 
extension of self-love to embrace others. Each takes 
the same delight in the existence and activity of his 
friend as he does in his own, and imparts to his friend 
what he most values himself. 4 Friendship, therefore, 

after first referring to al<redvo-9ai <rv$jv Kal Koivwvelv \6yw Kal Sia- 

and voflv as constituents of voias ovrw yap ~av So|ete rb ffvfjv 

human life, Aristotle proceeds, eVt ruv avQpuirwv XsytcrQai, KOI oO% 

1. 19 : rb 8e fjv r$v Katf avrb aya- Sxrirep CTT! rSsv (3oo~Kr]fj.dTu}V rb eV 

65>v Kal ^SeW . . . Si^Trep eoi/ce rep avr$ veuea-Qat. 
iraaiv 7}Sv elvai. b, 1 : rb 5 alff- IX. 11. 

BdvfffOai OTL fj rwv f]8ewv /co0 - A similar distinction be- 

auro $iWt yap ayaQbv {co^, rb 5 tween avayKalov and ayadbv or 

ayaObv v-jrapxav eV favrtp aivQav- Ka^bv has already come before 

ea-0ai ^Su. [In being conscious of us, p. 165, n. 1 (from MetapTi.i. 

perception and thought we are 2), 192, n. 5, supra. Of . Polit. vii. 

conscious of life : rb yap e?j/cu fy 14, 1333, a, 36 : ra 5 avayKcua Kal 

aiorOdvtffQai Kal i/oeli/, a, 32.] . . . o>s xP^ frt A t T&V Ka\>i> eVe/cev. 
Se irpbs eavrbv e ^ei 6 crirovSa ios, Kal 3 i] irapovata Srj ruv <pi\(av, c. 

Trpbs rov (piXov erepos yap avrds 6 11 concludes, eV airaffLi/ alpfri) 

<t>i\os fffriv . KaOaTTfp ovv rb avrbv (paiverai. 

clvai alperov effriv e/coo-r^, ovrca Kal 4 See n. 5 above, and ix. 12 (at 

rb rbv </>iAoi/ ^} irapair\r)(ri(as. rb 8 the end of the section upon friend- 

flvai i\v alperbv Sia rb alffOdveaOai ship) : ap ovv, wffirep rols fpSaffi rb 

avrov ayaOov bvro<i. 7) 8e roiavrr} 6pa.v a.ya.irt)r6rar6v eo-n, . . . ovru 

ataQyais ^5e?o KaO eavrr^v, ffvvaur- Kal rots (pi\ois alprcarar6v effri rb 

6dvso-6ai apa Set Kal rov (piXov ori ffv^fjv ; Koivcavia yap f] QiXia. Kal 

(0~nv, rovro 8e yivoir" 1 o.v eV r< us trpbs iaurbv t^ej, OVTU Kal irpbs 


is the most conspicuous example of the natural sociable- 
ness and solidarity of mankind. It is the bond that 
unites men to one another, not in any merely outward 
manner, as by a community of legal rights, but by the 
deepest instincts of their nature. In friendship indi 
vidual morality expands into a spiritual communion. 
But this communion is still limited and dependent on 
the accidental circumstances of personal relations. It 
is in the State that it first receives a wider scope and a 
more solid foundation in fixed laws and permanent 

TOI> <pi\ov. Trfpl O.\JT\>V 5 77 

QTl (TTIV alpeTT) KOU TTfpl 




B. Politics 1 
1. Necessity, Nature and Function of the State 

OF Aristotle s theory of the State it may be said, as of 
some other portions of his philosophy, that there are 
several points in it on which it is difficult for us to obtain 
certainty or completeness of view, owing to the state 
in which his treatise on Politics has come down to us. 
So rare is the union, so unequal, where they exist, 
the distribution, of the powers and qualities which 
we here find combined in equal proportions, that the 
eight books of the Politics of Aristotle form, indeed, one 
of the most remarkable works that antiquity has be 
queathed to us. With the most comprehensive know 
ledge of the facts of history and the completest insight 
into the actual conditions of social life, Aristotle here 
combines the subtlest power of marshalling in the 
service of scientific thought the materials which are 
so supplied . But the completion of the work was 

1 On the more recent litera- (Leipzig-, I860), i. H42 sqq. : 

tare which treats of Aristotle s UEBERWEG, Grundriss,i. 203 sq. 

theory of the State as a whole (5th ed. 187G) ; SUSEMIHL, Jalirb. 

and in its several parts, see HIL- /. Philol. vol. xcix. 593, ciii. 110, 

DENBRAND, Gescli. u. tit/st. tier and BuusiAN s Jakretbericht, 

Itechts- imd Staa^pHlosopHe 1874, p. 592 sq. 1877, p. 372 sqq. 



probably prevented by the death of the author ; l and 
when the sketches which he had left came to be put to 
gether. 2 it was impossible to avoid lacunce, and these must 

1 See Appendix, 
- Here, as in the case of the 
Metaphysics (see p. 76 sq. supra), 
the notes left by Aristotle seem 
to have been simply put together 
without revision or alteration. 
Tradition does not tell us who 
undertook this task ; but as 
Theophrastus is named as the 
editor of the Metaphysics (p. 
79), it may have been he ; 
which would explain the fact 
that the Politics seems to have 
been in circulation also under his 
name. It is alluded to by Diog. v. 
24, in the curious words : 7ro\t- 
TIKTJS aKpodcTfws ws 7] eo<t>pd(T- 
rov dri. As they stand, these 
words give no conceivable sense, 
as it could not have been in 
tended to explain the nature 
of Aristotle s Politics by compar 
ing them with Theophrastus s as 
the better known. The question, 
therefore, rises whether the 
words TroA. a.Kpod(re<j0s d 77 are not 
alone original, ^ eo^paa-rou hav 
ing been first placed in the 
margin by another hand, and 
then incorporated in the text as 
TI &eo(f)p. with us taken from 
aKpodvtws preceding it. KROHN 
(ibid. 51) supposes that the con 
junction of the works of Theo 
phrastus and Aristotle in the 
cellar at Scepsis may partly ex 
plain why much that belongs to 
Theophrastus should have found 
its way into the Politics of Ari 
stotle, and why it finally came to 
be thought that Theophrastus 
was its author ; but the indica 
tions given, p. 150, supra, of the 
use of the work up to the time of 

Cicero, make it impossible to 
accept this view, even were we 
to grant that the note, o>y ^ 
QeoQp., did not find a place in 
Hermippus s enumeration until 
after Apellicon s discovery of the 
books, and to treat Krohn s eli 
mination of the supposed Theo- 
phrastian passages from our text 
as less arbitrary than it is __ The 
same arguments hold good also 
against HILDENBRAND S (GescJt. 
d. PecMs- u. StaatspkiL i. 360) 
and ONCKEN S (Staatsl. d. Arist. 
i. 65 sq.) supposition that the 
Politics at the death of the 
author existed only in the original 
MS., and that between the death 
of Theophrastus and Apellicon s 
discovery it had disappeared. It 
may, indeed, appear strange that 
during this period we find such 
meagre traces of it, but this finds 
sufficient explanation in the 
feebleness of the interest taken 
at this time in political investiga 
tions, and the poverty of the 
philosophical remains that have 
survived to us from it. Even in 
the later ages, this most important 
account of Aristotle s political 
doctrines is seldom mentioned 
(see the passages cited by SUSE- 
MIHL, p. xlv, who follows 
SPENGEL, Ucb. d. Pol. d. Arist. 
\_Abh. d. Miinchn. Akad. \. 44], and 
HEITZ, Verl. Schr. d. Ar. 242 
hardly a dozen in fifteen centu 
ries), and, apart from the extract 
in STOB^EUS (see p. 203, supra), is 
not discussed with any fullness 
except by the Platonist EUBULUS 
(Part iii! a. 71 9, b, 408, 1, POEPH. 
V. Plot. 15, 20), a part of whose 


always remain a serious hindrance to the student of the 
Politics, even although the leading thoughts and funda 
mental features of the treatise are hardly affected by them. 

However valuable individual virtue and the know-S 
ledge which instructs us in it may be, Aristotle yet ? 
finds, as was to be expected in a Greek, that both are 
inadequate so long as they are confined to individuals. 
Morality finds its first perfect realisation in the State. 
In itself, the moral activity of a community is greater, 
more perfect, nobler, and more divine than that oi 
individuals. 1 But even the continuous production and 
maintenance of virtue is dependent wholly upon the 
State. Mere instruction is insufficient in the vastf 
majority of cases : he who is a slave to desire neither 
listens to admonition nor understands it. It is fear of 
punishment, not aversion to evil, that moves him. He 
knows nothing of joy in what is noble for its own sake. 
How is it possible, then, to correct inveterate ten 
dencies by mere exhortation ? Habit and education 
alone are of any avail, not only with children, but with 
adults as well, for these also are for the most part amen 
able only to legal constraint. But a good education and 
stringent laws are possible only in the State. 2 Only in 
the State can man attain his proper good. 3 Life in the 
State is the natural vocation of man. His nature has 

ruv UTT ApiffTorcXovs tv ff&fciv ayair-f]T^v p.ev yap Kal evl 

UXdrwvos TloAiTeiav a,VTipi}iJ.evo)v Kal 
has been made public by MAI, 2 Ibid. x. 10. 

Collect. Vatic, ii. 671 sqq. 3 Polit. i. 1 init. Every so- 

1 Etli. i. 1, 1094, b, 7 : el yap ciety aims at some good, yuaAurra 

Kal ravr6v effriv [TO Tt Aos] ei/i Kal tie Kal rov Kvpiiardrov irdvruv [sc. 

tro\i, |Ue?oV 76 Kal TfAewrepov rb crro^d^erai] rj iravuv Kvpuardri] Kal 

T7s TroA.a>s (mtJ eTcu Kal \a&?v Kal irdcras Tri^x ovffa ras ^\\as O^TTJ 


destined him for society, 1 as is clear from the fact that 
he alone of all creatures possesses the power of speech. 2 
In the State moral activity finds at once its condition 
and completion. The State is the moral whole, and is 
therefore prior in itself to the individual and the 
family : 3 only in the order of its origin in time and of 
human need does it come after them. 4 Only a being 
who is more or who is less than human can live apart 
from the community of the State. To man it is in 
dispensable. For as with moral culture he is the noblest 
of all creatures, so without law and right he is the 
worst and the adjustment of rights is the function j 
of the community at large/ The morality, therefore, 

8 e<rrii> T] Ka\ov/uLvr) ir6\is Kal TJ 
KoiiHavia 7) iroXiriK f}. Eth. i. 1, 
1094, b, 6 : rb Tavrrjs [TT/S TroAt- 
TZ/CTJS] re Aos 7repi^oi &j/ ra riav 
a\\u>v, SXTTC TOUT &// efy ra.vQp<a- 
irivov ayadov. How far this is 
consistent with the higher place 
assigned to Qewpla. has been al 
ready discussed, p. 143 sq. supra. 

1 Polit. i. 2, 1253, a, 2 : bn 
rwv (pixrei }] TroAis earl, Kal on av- 
OpwTros tyvaei iro\LTiKbv $ov. With 
a reference to this passage, iii. 6, 
1278, b, 19 : (pixrei fj.4v eo-nv av- 
Opcairos {ipoi/ Tro\irtKbv, Sib Kal fj.r)ei/ 
Sf6/nvoi rrjs Trap a\\T)\(av fiorideias 
OVK eAaTTOv bpeyovrai TOV crv^fjv. 
Etli. ix. 9 ; see p. 192, n. 3, supra ; 
cf. preceding note. 

a Polit. i. 2, 1253, a, 7 sqq. 

3 Polit. i. 2, 1253, a, ]9: 
Trp6rpov Sr? rf) tyvcrei Tr6\is $7 oiKia 
Kal fKatrros TUJLUV fanv. rb yap 
o\ov irporspov avaynatov eli/ai TOV 
pepovs. . . . el yap ^ avrdpKtjs 
dfjLoiws rols 
e|et irpbs rb o\ov. 

1252, b, 30: Sib iraaa iro\is 
effrlv, e^7re/j Kal at Trpurai KOivcaviai 
reAos yap ainai fKeivcov, rj tie tyvvis 
reAos eVrtV. 

4 Only in this sense is it said, 
Mh. viii. 14, 1162, a, 17: avGpuiros 
yap rrj tyvo-ei ffvvSvao-TiKbv yUaAAoj/ 
^) iroKiTiKbv, offq} irpoTtpov Kal avay- 
Kaiortpov oiKia TTo Afws. That is 
avayKaw which serves to satisfy 
a physical need, and is there 
fore definitely distinct from rb 
Ka\6v; see p. 201, n. 2, supra. 
But this does not prejudice the 
subordination of every other 
social bond to the political. On 
the other hand, the State and 
the household seem rather to be 
regarded by Eudemus as parallel 
institutions (see Eud. vii. 10, 
1242, a, 22 : 6 7^ avtipuiros ov 
fj.6vov iroXiriKbv dAAa Kal olKovopiKbv 
C$0"), economics being also 
separated by him from politics ; 
see p. 186, n. 4, supra. 

3 Polit. i. 2, 1253, a, 27: 6 St 


of individuals has its indispensable complement in the 
State : Ethics is fulfilled in Politics. 

It follows from what has just been said, that the 
fu action of the State cannot, according to Aristotle, be 
limited to that which even then, it would seem, was 
held by some, as it has been held by a much larger 
number in modern times, to be its only one namely, 
the protection of person and property. The State 
certainly owes its origin, as Aristotle admits, primarily 
to a human need. Families unite in communities for 
purposes of intercourse ; communities again into States. 
But the conception of the State is not thereby ex 
hausted. Its function does not stop with care for the 
physical wellbeirig of its members, since this care is 
extended to slaves and domestic animals as well as to 
citizens ; nor even with the common protection against 
external enemies and security of intercourse. Such a 
community is an alliance and not a commonwealth, norl 
is it less so because the allies form a geographical unit] 
While it is indispensable to the existence of a political 
community that all these objects should be secured, 
yet a State, in the proper sense of the word, first arises 
from the effort of the citizens to realise a perfect and 

Se6/j.vos 5i avTapKeiav, ovtiev /uLepos x a} P l(T Q* v v6p.nv Kal 8 fays x e L P t(TTOV 

TrdAews, &<TT r) drjpiov v) 6e6s (as he iravrtav. ^aAeTra TaTT? -yap aSiKia 

lias said already at line 3 of the !\ou<ra oVAa 6 5 avdpoajros otr\a 

same page: 6 airo\is 8ia (pixriv %x u>v (pverai <ppovf]at Kal apery, ofs 

Kal ov Sia T\)\t\v tfroi <pav\6s eVi ravavria. ecm %p7}<r0cu /xaAKTra. 

effTiv $) KpeiTTUv r) ttv$pco7ros). (pvtrti Sib a.vo(Ti<aTQ.Tov Kal a/ypidcraTOv 

/j.ei> ovv r/ (5p/ur? h 1 iraffiv eirl TTJV roi- aveu dpervjs . . . ^ 8e SutauHrvv)] 

avryv Koivwiav 6 Se Trp&ros (rvtrrr)- TTO\ITIKOV T/ yap St/crj TTO\ITLK?JS 

ffas /JLeyiffTcw a-yaQuv ounos. Siairep KoivcDvlas rdis fcrriv i] Se SI /CTJ rov 

yap Kal TeAeco^tv P\THTTOV TUV SiKaiov Kpiais. 

f<TTW, OUTU Kal 



self-sufficing social life. 1 The aim of the State is, in 
a word, the happiness of the citizens. 2 Happiness, 
however, consists in the unimpeded exercise of virtue. 3 
/ The happiness of a whole people cannot differ from that 
of individuals. Accordingly, the highest function of the 
State and of statecraft is to form and educate citizens. 

1 Polit. i. 2, 1252, b, 12 : r) 
fj.ev ovv els iraffav fi/ufpav ffvvfcrrt]- 
Kvla Koivcavia Kara. <pvo~iv ol/cos 
fo~nv. . . . f) 5 e/c TT\fi6v(t}v OIKIWV 
koivuvia Trpwrr) xpTJ<reo>s eVe/cei/ /*$] 
f(pr]u.epov /caiyUTj. /xaAnrra 5e Kara 
Qvaiv eot/cey r) KM/A?) airoLKia ot/cias 
flvai. From the extension of the 
family springs the village com 
munity, which in the earliest 
times is ruled by the head of the 
family ... ^ 5 e/c it\ei6vwv 
KU/J.UV Koivcavia re Aetos ir6\is, rj 8^ 
iraaris fx ovffa Tfpos TTJS avrapKeias 
ws eVos etVetV, yivo^vi^ p.ev ovv 
rov fjv eVe/cer, ovaa Se rov ev fjv. 
Sib iraffa ir6\is (pixret ecrrlv, ffaep 
/ecu at irpwrai Koivowiai re\os yap 
ttitivuv, TJ Se (pvffis re Aos 
iii. 9 ? 1280, a, 25 : Civil 
society exists not merely for the 
protection of property, nor yet 
rov rjv /JLOVOV eVe/cev, ctAAct /uaAAoi/ 
rov (v fjv (/cal yap &i/ SouAwv Kal 
r&v ttAAwj CtyteV fy Tr6\is vvv S 
OVK Hart Sta rb /j.^j ^uere ^eji/ euSat- 
/j.ovias yurjSe rov fjv Kara irpoaipfffiv), 
p.-t]rf avfM^a-xias eVe/cei/, oirws virb 
d5t/ca)vTat, ju^jre Sta ray 
/cat rrjv -^prfffiv rfy irpbs 
. Being merely con 
federates, such partners are 
neither under any common au 
thority ovr rov iroiovs rivas fivat 
Se? (t>povriovo~iv arepoi rovs erepovs, 
ouS OTTOSS /XTjSels aSt/cos eo-rat riav 
vTrb ras orvvd fjKas jUTjS 5 CtAATj^ 
e|et ^Se/jiiav, aAAa jj.6vov 

5 aperrjs Kal /ca/ctas 

"oaoi (ppovri^ovcriv ev- 
vo/jiias. y Kal (pavepbv on Set ?repi 
aperrjs eVt/xeAes elvai ry y" 1 us 
ahrjBus ovofjLa^o/j.vr) TrJAet, /j.rj \6yov 
X<*pw- Every other combination 
is an alliance, not a State ; every 
law which does not aim at 
making the citizens just and 
good is a o-vvd-fiKij, not a v6fj.os. 
Nor does it alter matters if the 
parties in question inhabit the 
same place, (pavepbv roiwv, 6ri 
rj TToAts OVK eWt KOiviavia r6irov Kal 
crtyas avrovs Kal rrjs 
ravra f^ev 


TTO AIS, ou jj.}]v oi/S 

rovrwv airavrwv ^877 TT^Ats, aAA 

rov cv yv Koivoivia Kal rals ot/ctats, 

Kal rois yfVfffi, ^WTJS reAetas X^P IV 

Kal avrdpKOvs. 

- Polit. iii. 9, 1280, b, 39: 
re Aos u.ej/ ovv -TT^Aews rb eS 0j/ 
yevcav Kal K<a(J.iav 



KOivuvia fays reAetas Kal avrdpKOvs. 
rovro S earii , us (pa/j.ev, rb 


j/ KOiviaviav, aAA ov rov 
vii. 8, 1328, a, 35: ^ 
S Koivcavia ris eVrt ra>v 
eVe/cev 8e ^w^s TTJS ej/Se- 
XOjUeVrjs apiffrys. eVel 5 effrlv 
fvSai/j.oi>ia rb apiffrov, avrt] 5e 
apeTTjs eVe p7eta /cat XP^ " 1 5 Tfs 
re Aetos &c. 

3 See p. 137 sqq. snpra. 

5e TT^A 



to cherish in them all moral and spiritual fitness, and 
to furnish the impulse to an inherently noble and satis 
fying activity. 1 The qualities which make a good 
citizen and a brave man are thus seen to be the same : 
the completed virtue of a citizen is not a virtue, but 
virtue in its application to civic life. 2 Virtue, however, 

1 See p. 208, n. 1, suvra; Eth. 
i. 13, 1102, a, 7, ii. 1, 1103, b, 3; 
Polit. vii. 2 init., c. 35 init. 

- Polit. iii. 4 : Is the virtue 
of the O.VTIP ayaBbs identical with 
that of the TTOA/TTJS airovfiaios or 
not ? Absolutely identical they 
certainly are not (as has already 
been remarked, Eth. v. 5, 1130, 
b, 28), for not only does each 
different form of State make 
peculiar demands upon its mem 
bers (civil virtue, therefore, will 
have a different character under 
different forms of constitution), 
but the State itself consists of 
heterogeneous elements, and not 
merely of men of mature virtue. 
In so far, on the other hand, as 
the State may be regarded as a 
free community, as being the 
government of freemen and 
equals (TroAm/oj apxh, o-pX^ r ^ v 
ojj.o((i}v Kal eAeu0e pa>i/, 1277, b, 7 
sqq.), they coincide, for no one is 
qualified to be a member of such 
a State who does not know both 
how to command and how to 
obey in other words, who is not 
an OLV^P ayaOos. Hence, c. 18, 
1288, a, 37, with reference to c. 

4 : eV 6 Tols TTpdOTOLS fSei^dl] 

\6yois OTL rrjv avrrjv avayKcuov 
avSpbs aptrrii eli/at Kal iroXirov rys 
TroAecos TTJS dpurTTjy. vii. 1, 1323, 
b, 33 : avSpia Se TroAecos Kal 
aioavvr] Kal typovijcris r}]v avrrji/ 

v /ca<TTOS T 

Si/catos Kal (ppoviij.os Kal 
C. 9, 1328, b, 37: eV rfj K d\\ iff r a 
Tro\iTvo[Avp TroAei Kal TJJ /ce/CTTj- 
lAtvri StKaiovs avSpas air\^s, aAAa 
^ irpbs T}]V viroQeo-iv (in reference 
to ^a given State ; the irpbs ryv 
vTr60<nv SiKaios is he who, while 
he sides with existing laws and 
institutions, defends even what 
is severe and unjust in them), 
c. 13, 1332, a, 3G : Kal yap d 
Travras evSdxerai (TirovSaiovs dvai, 
/u?? Kad tKaarov 5e ruv Tro\iTocv 
[even although it be possible for 
the community as a whole to 
be excellent while each of the 
individuals is not, the imperfec 
tions of the members being com 
pensated for by the perfection 
of the whole; we shall have to 
allude to this further on in refer 
ring to Polit. iii. 11, 13, 15], 
OUTWS alpsTwrepoi [yet the latter, 
viz. that all the individuals 
should be virtuous, is the more 
desirable] ; dftroAoufle? yap ry KaQ" 1 
eKao-TOV Kal rb iravras. c. U, 
1332, a, 11 : As the virtue of the 
&PXW and the best man is one 
and the same, but in the best 
State all are fitted to govern, the 
legislation must aim at making 
all the citizens in it g;ood men. 
C. 15 lilit. . firel Se . . . rbv avTuv 
opov avayKalov flvai T< re apiffTy 
avSpl Kal rfj dpiirTp TroAireta. Ac 
cording to these explanations, the 
words (iii. 4, 1277, a, 4) el ^ 
avayKalov ayaOovs elvai rovs 


is twofold theoretic and practical. To ask which of 
these is superior is equivalent here to asking whether 
peace or war is to be the ultimate aim of civil life ; 
sincQ the proper occupation for times of peace is, 
according Aristotle, Science, whereas in w T ar the main 
object is the acquisition of the greatest possible power 
of action. 1 But we have already seen that Aristotle 
places the theoretic life much higher than the practical, 
and accordingly we are not surprised to find him 
sharply criticising those constitutions which, like the 
Spartan and the Cretan, are adapted rather for war 
than for peace. Such States, he says, have only con 
quests in view, as if every kind of dominion over others, 
upon whomsoever it may be forced and by whatsoever] 
means achieved, were permissible; and on this account; 
they nourish in individuals the spirit of violence and 
ambition, and estrange them from the arts of peace, and 
so when their dominion is secured and the martial activity 
should give place to the peaceful, such States forthwith 
fall into decay. Aristotle himself regards the peaceful 
occupations as the true object of social life ; war he 
permits only as a means to peace, only, therefore, in so far 

eV rfj ffTrovSaiq. TroAei irohiras, the discussion that follows, 
occurring-, moreover, as they do This parallel, however, is 
in a dialectical discussion (an only partially relevant. Aristotle 
an-opia), are not to be understood tells us himself (Poht. vii. 15, 
as though Aristotle himself in- 1334, a, 22 sqq.) that even moral 
tended to deny that necessity, virtues, such as justice and self- 
He means them merely as a pre- command, are especially indis- 
liminary affirmation of the con- pensable in time of peace, 
dition under which alone civil Moreover, while scientific ac- 
and individual virtue absolutely tivity certainly needs peace most, 
coincide. Whether and under yet it can only at ^best be prac- 
what circumstances this condi- tised by a small minority of the 
tion is present, is the subject of citizens. 


as it is necessary for self-defence or for the subjugation of 
those whom Nature has destined to serve. He de 
mands, accordingly, that besides bravery and constancy, 
which are necessary in order that the State may assert 
its independence, the virtues of peace namely, justice, 
temperance, and scientific culture (<^XO<TO< la) should 
also be cultivated. 1 It cannot be denied that the aim of 
the State is thus placed sufficiently high. It is not, 
indeed, to Aristotle the absolutely highest, as it was to 
the Greeks of an earlier age. To him as to his teacher 
the highest is that scientific activity which in itself can 
dispense with the society of others. This alone it is in 
which man attains the highest perfection permitted him 
by his nature, in which he transcends the limits of 
humanity and lives the life of God. Only as man does 
he require practical virtue and the community in which 
it manifests itself. 2 As man, however, these are wholly 
indispensable to him. But the highest form, of com 
munity, embracing and completing every other, is the 
State. Its aim comprehends every other moral aim, 
while its institutions not only give security and stability 
to the moral life by means of law and education, but 
extend it over a whole people. We thus arrive at a 
definition of the highest function of the State as that 
of making the citizens happy by means of virtue. This 
is essentially the same view of civil life that we have 
already met with in Plato. In only a single feature * 
do the two philosojjhei g ^ difjerjrpm. one another, but it 

1 Polit. vii. 2, 3, c. 14, 15; 1256, b, 23. 

Etk. x. 7, 1177, b, 4. Cf. also p. - Of. the citations from Etli. 

143, n. 1, arid on war for the x. 8, and other passages, p. 143, 

acquisition of slaves, Polit. i. 8, n. 1. 

p 2 


i^_a__fondamental one. /-In Plato the State, like every 
thing else upon earth, is essentially related to the other 
world, whence all truth and reality spring. This is the 
ultimate source of his political idealism. Just as the 
Ideas belong to that supersensible world, so the philo 
sophical rulers to whom he entrusts the realisation of 
these Ideas in the State have their home there also, and 
only unwillingly descend to take part in earthly affairs. 
The State, therefore, serves not only for moral educa 
tion, but also as a preparation for that higher life of 
the disembodied spirit into which a beautiful glimpse 
is opened to us at the end of the Republic. Of this 
view of the State and of human life in general, we find 
no trace in Aristotle."? We have simply and solely here 
to do with the present life and with that happiness 
which is the immediate outcome of moral and spiritual 
perfection. It is not the aim of the State to represent 
tin ideal world beyond or to prepare for another life, 
but to satisfy the wants of the present. And just as 
he does not require philosophy to be the ruling principle 
in politics, as we shall see immediately, so, on the other 
hand, he sees no opposition between these two, such 
as might make the political activity of the philosopher 
appear as a painful sacrifice. He holds that human 
nature has two equally essential sides which find their 
satisfaction in the practical activity of the statesman 
and the theoretic activity of the philosopher respectively. 
None but God can live in contemplation alone. Man 
as man cannot renounce practical life in a community. 
It is no mere compulsion, but a moral need, which makes 
the State and the life which it offers a necessity for 


It is the aim of the Politics to investigate the means 
by which the State fulfils its functions, the various 
more or less perfect conceptions of the nature of these 
functions, and the institutions that correspond to them. 
But before applying himself to this investigation, Ari 
stotle in the first book of his political treatise discusses 
the Family and the Household ; for he holds that in 
order perfectly to understand the nature of the State, 
it is necessary to analyse it into its simplest con 
stituents. 1 

2. The Household as a Constituent Element of the State 

The State is the most perfect form of human society, 
and as such is prior to every other in order of thought. 
But just as elsewhere in Aristotle that which is first in 
essence is last in origin, the primordial principle the 
last result, so the first natural form of society namely, 
the Family precedes the political as the condition of 
its origin in time. 2 

The family is constituted by means of the three 
relations of husband and wife, pa-rents and children, 
master and servant. 3 

1 Polit. i. 1, 1252, a, 17 (after OVTCD Kal iroXiv e| &v 

touching upon the distinction (rKoirouvrts 6\j/6fMfOa Kal -jrepl TOVTOW 

between political and household /xaAAor, ri re Siafpfpovatv aXX^Xuv 

economy): SrjAov 8 4arai TO \eyo- Kal e i TI rexi/t/cbi/ eVSe xercu Aa/3eIV 

p.VOV fTTL(TKOTTOV(TL KO.TO. T7?I> V^yf]- 7T6/H GKaffTOV T&V pfjBeVTOW. Cf . C. 

fjLfvriv /j-fOoSoj/ [by which he means 3 init. 

not so much his method, as the 2 Polit. i. 2. 

plan which he intends to follow 3 Ibid. c. 2, c. 3, c. 12 init. 

in the investigation, and which Aristotle describes, in c.2, the rela- 

he had indicated at the end of tions of man and wife, slave and 

the Ethics ]. &(nrep yap ev ro7s freeman, as the two fundamental 

aAAois TO (TwOerov ^xp l t& v ones. He begins with the dis- 

affvvOfrwv avdyifn SmipelV (ravra cussion of the latter, c. 3 sqq., 

yap e Aax O Ta fj.6pia TOV iravrbs), and connects with it that of the 


The relation of husband and wife Aristotle treats as 
an essentially moral one. A natural instinct forms, indeed, 
its basis, but the union must assume the higher forms 
of friendship, good will, and mutual service. 1 The reason 
of this is that the moral capacities of each are partly 
similar and partly different, and that therefore a free rela 
tion between them is not only possible, but is demanded 
by the need of both to find their complement. They 
stand, in one sense, upon equal terms. The wife as 
well as the husband has a will of her own and a virtue 
proper to herself. She, too, must* be treated as a free 
person. Where the women are slaves, this is a proof to 
Aristotle that the men also are slaves by nature, since 
a free man can unite himself only with a free woman. 2 
On the other hand, it is also true that the moral 
capacities of the woman differ in kind and in degree 
from those of the man : her will is weak (axvpos), her 
virtue less perfect and self-sufficient, her vocation, as a 
whole, is not independent production but quiet retire 
ment and domesticity. 3 The true relation, accordingly, 

different kinds of properly natural to us, i.e. to discuss the 
reserving the two remaining family before slavery and pro- 
relations, c. 13, 1260, b, 8, for perty. 

subsequent treatment, on the * Polit. i. 2 init. ; Eth. viii. 
ground that the education of 14, 1162, a, 16 sqq.; cf.GSc. i. 3 sq. 
women and children and all 2 Polit. i. 2, 1252, a. 1 sqq. c. 
household arrangements must 13, 1260, a, 12 sqq.; Eth. ibid. 
depend upon the character and 3 Polit. i. 5, 1254, b, 13, c. 13, 
aim of the State. The discussion 1260, a, 12, 20 sqq. iii. 4, 1277, 
of these, however, is not resumed b, 20 sqq. ; (Ec. i. 3, ad Jin. ; cf. 
in the Politics as we have it, Hist. An. ix. 1, where cliiferences 
what is said in lib. vii. and viii. of character and disposition are 
on education being without special discussed in so far as they pro- 
reference to family life. For the ceed from difference of sex. See 
purpose of exposition, it is best esp. 608. a, 35 : ra f?7?Aea /uaAa/cw- 
to take the order which is more repa nal KaKovpyorepa Kal i]rrov 


of woman to man can only exist where the man, as the 
superior, bears rule, while the woman is treated as a free 
partner in the household, and as such is not only 
protected from every kind of injustice, but also has her 
own proper sphere, with which the man does not 
interfere. It is an association of free members with 
unequal rights in other words, it is, as Aristotle 
frequently describes it, an aristocracy. 1 

Less free is the relation between Parent and Child, 
in discussing which, however, Aristotle confines himself 
characteristically enough, almost solely to the relation 
between father and son. 2 In spite of the advanced 
views just quoted, mother and daughter have no 
further attention paid to them. As Aristotle had 
compared the married relation to an aristocracy, he 
compares that of father and son to a monarchy. 3 The 
child has, strictly speaking, no rights as against his 

air\a /cat Trpoirerearepa Kal irepl rr)V the levity with which Plato (Rep. 

rG)vre.Kvw rpofyfy typovriffTiKfarepa, v. 452 E sqq. ; of. Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 

TO. 5 oppeva evavriws Ov/j.caS(rrepa, 775) denies that there is any in- 

Kal ayptuirepa Kal air\ovcrrepa Kal herent difference between the 

TJrrov eirifiov\a . . . -ywT] avSpbs sexes beyond that of their natural 

cXey/Aoveo Tepoi Kal apiSaKpv /na\\ov, functions. 

eri 8e <p6ovepwrepov Kal ^e^^oipo- l M~h. N. viii. 12, 1160, b, 32 

repots, Kal (piAoXoiSopov fj.a\\ov Kal sqq. c. 13, 1161, a, 22 ; cf. v. 10, 

Tr\r}KTiK(aTfpov. fartbe Kal5vff9v/uLov 1134, b, 15 ; End. vii. 9, 1241, b, 

^uaAAoi/ rb 07] Au rov appwos Kal 29 ; Polit. i. 13, 1260, a, 9 ; (Ec. 

8vff\iri, Kal avcuSorTepoi/ /cat i. 4, where details and practical 

tyfvSfa-Tfpov, eyairaTTjTOTepoi/ 8e Kal directions are given upon this 

IJW W.oviK&Ttpov, en Se aypvirvorepoy head. Cf . further, p. 222 sq. infra. 
Kv.1 oKv-nporepov Kal 6\ws a.Kivr)r6- * Such passages as Eth. viii. 

repay rb e^Xv rov appevos, Kal 14, 1161, b, 26, ix. 7, 1168, a, 24, 

rpo<pris f\drrov6s eariv. j8o7j0r?- can hardly be regarded as rele- 

riKwrepov Se, &(nrp eAe x^Tj, Kal vant. 

avSpeiorepov rb upper rov ^Ae^s 3 Eth. N. viii. 12, 1160, b, 26, 

eanv. We may contrast the c. 13 writ. (End. vii. 9, 1241, b, 

careful observation upon which 28.) 
this comparison is based with 



father, being still only a part of his parent, 1 but the 
father has a duty to his child the duty, namely, of 
providing for its highest interests. 2 The reason of this 
is that the child has a will and a virtue of its own, 
although both are imperfect. They are both perfect in 
his father, and we may therefore describe the right 
relation between father and son as one in which the 
former imparts his more perfect virtue to the latter, 
while the son by his obedience appropriates the virtue 
of his father. 3 

The position, lastly, of the Slave is one of complete 
dependence. To the institution of slavery Aristotle 
has devoted special attention, partly with the view ot 
investigating its necessity and justice, and partly of 
laying down the proper method of treating slaves- 
That slavery is, in the first place, a necessity, follows, 
according to Aristotle, from the very nature of the 
household, whose requirements demand not only lifeless 
but also living and rational utensils. But utensils are 
the property of him who uses them. Hence to com 
plete the accommodations of the household, human 

1 Ibid. v. 10, 1134, b, 8; cf. 
viii. 16, 1163, b, 18. 

2 Polit. iii. 6, 1278, b, 37. 

8 Polit. i. 13, 1260, a, 12, 31 ; 
cf. iii. 5, 1278, a, 4. A complete 
discussion of the family would 
include that of the fraternal 

constitutes a bond of union, and 
partly upon community of life 
and education ; and that friendship 
between brothers resembles that 
between those of the same age, 
&c. He compares their relation 
ship to a timocracy in so far as 

bond, but upon this Aristotle the parties in it are naturally 

does not enter in the Polities , upon an equality, and difference 

only in the Ethics does he touch in age is the only ground of 

upon the relation existing be- superiority ; and ends by tracing 

tween brothers, in treating of the bond of connection between 

friendship. He remarks that 
brotherly love rests partty upon 

more distant relatives in a similar 
analysis; viii. 12-14, 1161, a, 3, 25, 

common parentage, which of itself b, 30 sqq. 1162, a, 9 sqq. 


beings are required who shall be the property of their 
master 1 in other words, slaves. 2 That, in the second 
place, slavery is just, that it rests not upon legal enact 
ments merely, as some even then affirmed/ 5 but also upon 
the laws of nature, Aristotle tries to prove from the 
difference in the natural condition of men. Those who 
are by nature fitted only for physical employments justly 
come under the power of those who are capable of 
intellectual activity, since these are their superiors, just 
as the gods are the superiors of men or men of the 
beasts, and since generally the intellect must rule the 
body. 4 Aristotle even goes the length of affirming that 
nature has willed a physical distinction between them, 
and that it is only a lusus naturce when the soul of a 
freeman finds its way into the body of a slave/" And 
since this in general is actually the relation of Bar 
barians to Greeks, the former are held to be the 
natural slaves of the latter. 6 Aristotle therefore regards 


1 Polit. i. 4 ; (Ec. i. 5 init. would refuse them uncondi- 

2 A slave being- (Polit. i. 4 tional submission. The remark 
fin.) t>s tiv /cTTj^a ?T avOpwiros &v is characteristic of a Greek. As 
(KTTJ/JLO. Se opyavov irpaKTiKbv [see in his view the spiritual character 
ibid. 1254, a, 1 sqq.] Kai x u P t(r ~ naturally and necessarily ex- 
r6v), a (pixrei 8ov\os is 6 /j.^ avrov presses itself in a harmonious 
(pva-ei aAA &\\ov, &v9pctiiros 5e. external form, he finds in the 

3 Polit. i. 3, 1253, b, 18 sqq. acknowledged beauty of his own 
c. 6, 1255, a, 7; cf. Ph. d. Gr. race a direct proof of its absolute 
i. 1007, 2, 4th edit. ; ONCKEN, superiority to barbarian peoples. 
Staatsl. d. Arist. ii. 32 sq. How much more from this point 

* Ibid. c. 5, 1254, b, 16, 34, of view would the slavery of 

vii. 3, 1325, a, 28. Plato had black and coloured races have 

already expressed this idea ; cf. seemed to him to be justified. 

P7i. d. Gr. i. 755, 2. Polit. i. 2, 1252, b, 5, c. 6, 

5 Polit. i. 5, 1254, b, 27, where 1255, a, 28 ; cf. vii. 7. Aristotle 
he adds : if one portion of the certainly admits exceptions to 
human race were physically as this assertion ; Nature, he re- 
superior to the rest as the gods marks, i. 6, 1255, b, 1, intends, 
are represented to be, no one indeed, that just as man springs 



not only slavery itself as justifiable, bufc also war for 
the acquisition of slaves, 1 provided only the slavery be 
strictly limited to those who are by nature destined to 
.it. It is unjust only when it is inflicted on those 
whom nature has destined to rule. The practice,, 
accordingly, of treating prisoners of war indiscriminately 
as slaves, is condemned by Aristotle on the ground that 
captivity may overtake even the best and those who 
have been unjustly attacked. 2 The nature of the rela 
tion of master and slave must of course be ruled by 
these principles. A wife has a weak will and a boy 
an imperfect one, but a slave has none at all. His 
will resides in his master ; obedience and usefulness in 
service are the only virtues which he is capable of 
exercising. 3 That the slave, being a man, must also 
possess a virtue proper to him as man is, indeed, 
admitted by Aristotle, but he immediately adds that 
the slave can only possess a minimum of this virtue. 4 
Similarly he recommends a mild and humane treatment 
of slaves. He makes it the duty of the master to 

from man, and beast from beast, 
so the good should spring- from 
the good, but she does not always 
succeed in this. He continues: 
OTL fJ.ev ovv fX el TWO- h.6yov r] 
a,u</>r/:J7jT77<m [the doubt about 
the lawfulness of slavery] Kal 
OVK elcrlv ot tyvfffi SouAot ol 5 
\vQfpoi STJ\OV. This can only 
mean that all slaves or freemen 
are not so by nature, for he 
immediately adds : Kal 6n ev r i <r I 
TO TOIOVTOV, 8>v ffv(ji<t>epei 
rb 8ov\evfiv T$ Se T> 
Kal SIKCUOJ/. There must 
thus nevertheless be tribes born 

to be slaves, as is presupposed 
c. 2, ibid., and must be assumed 
if war for the capture of slaves 
is to be justified. THUEOT, 
Etudes ,. Arist. 10, proposes in 
stead Of OVK flfflv 01 fJLV, OVK 

ela-lv el /J/, which, however, would 
yield the awkward meaning that 
all slaves are so by nature. 

1 Polit. i. 8, 1256, b. 23 sqq. 

2 Ibid. c. 6, 1255, a, 21 sqq. 

3 Polit. i. 13, 1259, a, 21 sqq. 
1260, a, 12-24, 33; Poet. 15, 
1454, a, 20. 

4 Polit. ibid. 



educate them in the virtue that is possible to them ; l 
he commends the practice of promisiug them freedom 
as the reward of good conduct. 2 And yet he holds that 
the power of the master as a whole is despotic, and that 
love on his part towards a slave is as impossible as love 
of the gods towards man. 3 That Aristotle holds this 
to be true of the slave qua slave and not qua man, 4 we 
can only regard as an inconsistency which does him 
honour. Greek morals and Greek ways of thought 
were too powerful within him to permit him to draw ^ 
the more logical inference 5 that man qua man cannot 
be a slave. 

To the investigation of slavery, Aristotle appends 
more general discussions upon property and modes of 

J Polit. i. 7, c. 13, 1260, b, 3 : 
TO .VVV on rrjs TOLavrrjs 
apexes atnov eh/at Se? TO> Sov\(f T*bv 
SecTTroTTjj/ . . 8tb Xsyovaiv ov KaAaJy 
ol \6yov TOVS 5ov\ovs airoffrfpovvres 
Kal (pdo-KovTfs 7riTa|et -pr\<rQa.i 
fj.6vov vovQtTfiTfOv yap /uaAAoi/ 
TOVS Sov\ovs ^) TOVS TTcuSas. On 
the treatment of slaves see 
further in (Kc. i. 5. 

2 Polit. vii. 10 /m., upon which 
HILDENBRAND. Reohtx- it. btaats- 
phil. i. 400, pertinently remarks 
that this is inconsistent with 
Aristotle s principles : for he 
whom nature condemns to 
slavery ought not to be set free ; 
he whom nature has not so con 
demned ought not to be held in 

a Eth. viii. 12, 1160, b, 21), c. 
13, 1160. a, 80 sqq. ; of. viii. 9 
(see i. 3^8. n. 1, snprd). 

4 Ktli. viii. 13/7t. 

5 As BITTER (iii. H61) showed 
it to be, and as it continues to be, 

in spite of FECHNER S objection 
(Gerechtiglteitsbegr, d. Arlst. p. 
119) that according to Aristotle 
there are differences even within 
the sphere of human reason. 
Aristotle certainly assumes such 
differences and even asserts, as 
we have just seen, that they go 
so deep as to render a portion of 
mankind incapable of freedom. 
But the real question is whether 
this assertion still holds true if we 
are at the same time compelled 
to admit that even one who 
belongs to this portion of man 
kind is Swd/Afvos Koiv(avT]o~ai vo^.ov 
Kal ffvvd-fiKris, Kal (pi\(as 877, /co# 
offov avQpwiros, and that there is a 
SiKaiov iravT\ ai>0pd[>7ru> jrpbs ircuTOt. 
To a thing, a possession, no 
rights can belong. To a man 
who has no will and either no 
virtue at all or only that of a 
slave friendship, on Aristotle s 
principles, is impossible. 



acquisition l somewhat loosely, with the remark that 
slaves being a part of a man s property, the subject of 
property here finds a natural place. 2 He distinguishes 
two kinds of production : natural, and artificial. 3 The 
former embraces all those modes of activity by which 
the necessities of life are obtained the rearing of 
cattle, hunting, agriculture, &c. 4 From the barter of 
the products of these arises, in the first place, exchange, 
which is likewise regarded as a natural mode of pro 
duction, since it immediately serves the satisfaction of 
natural wants. 5 But the introduction, for the sake of 

1 Polit. i. 8-11, cf. (Ec. i. 6. 

2 See Polit. i. 8. Slaves had 
been previously described (c. 4 
i/iit.) as a part of /CTTJO-IS, and 
KT-rjTiKY) as a part of olKovofj-ia ; 
nevertheless one cannot accept 
TKICHMULLER S statement (p. 338 
of the treatise cited 137, n. 2, sup.} 
i hat this section is here quite in 
place. For in c. 3 only the three 
relations of master and slave, 
husband and wife, father and 
children were adduced as the 
proper subjects of economics, 
and in 1253, b, 12, the theory of 
property is only touched upon in 
a few words : fffri 5e rt ^ue pos 
[? now also rejected by SUSE- 
MIHL] & So/ce? TO?? yutv e!/ai 
oticovo/uia, rots Se fj.syio~Tov /ue pos 
avrrjs, viz. xP 7 7/ aaT " T " <: ^, which is 
thus here regarded as merely 
supplementary to the study of 
economics. TEICHMULLER sug 
gests that the remark in the 
text upon the way in which 
the theory of production is con 
nected with the discussion of 
slavery, only betrays a confu 
sion with regard to the meaning 
of external goods in Aristotle : 

but his ingenuity has here dis 
covered a connection which is not 
to be found in Aristotle, and has 
no existence but in the commen 
tator s own mind. 

3 C. 8/W. : #Tl yU.61/ TOIVW (TTl 

rts KTTJTJKT/ Kara fyvaiv TO?S 

olKOv6jJ.OLS Kal TO?S 7TOAtTiKO?S, Kttl 8 1 

fyv air lav, STJAOV. c. 9 init. : e/rrt 
5e yevos a\\o /CTTJTJK^S, $?i> fj-aXiffra 
Kal 8 iKaiov avrb /caAeti/ 
TiKrjv .... ea"Ti 8 f] fMfv 
<f)i>(Ti 7} 5 ov (f>v(Tfi avToov, aAAct 
5 /j.ireipias Tti/bs Kal re xrrjs 71^- 
erat /j,a\\ov. 

4 After enumerating the vari 
ous kinds of natural production, 
and among them, strangely 
enough (1256, a, 36, b, 5), A^crrem, 
which is neither natural to a moral 
being nor a productive activity 
at all, he says of them (125(5, b, 
26) : ej/ /xev ovv elSos KTTjrtK^s 
Kara fyvcriv rrjs olK.ovofji.iKys /.i.epos 
tffrlv .... wv [a constructio ad 
sensum, referring to the different 
activities comprehended under 
this class] eVrl Or)ffavpi( XPW 
d.T&v irpbs farjv avayKaiwv Kal XP"n ff ~ 
L/j-cav fls Koivtaviav TroAec^s /) oltcias. 

4 c. i, 1257, a, 28, after the 


commerce, of money as the universal standard of value l 
was followed by the development of artificial produc 
tion, which has in view, not the requirements of life, but 
the possession of money. 2 Only the former of these 
kinds of production is an indispensable part of domestic 
economy. 3 It has to do with real wealth, which may 
be denned as the stock of household necessaries, and for 
this reason it is strictly limited by household needs. 4 
Money-getting, on the other hand, is wholly unlimited, 
herein showing itself to be naturally bad and opposed 
to the true art of life, inasmuch as it serves, not to 
purify and exalt it, but only to provide the means of 
material existence and enjoyment. 5 Production as a 
whole is, accordingly, held by Aristotle in small esteem, 
and the more so, the more exclusively it is occupied 
with mere money-making business, since of all unnatural 
modes of production he believes money-lending to be 
the most unnatural of all. 6 He confines himself, ac 
cordingly, in what remains of this discussion, to a divi- 

account of barter : r) fj.ev ovv roi- yap opyavov aweipov ovSe/uiias t-frri 

I avTri /U.CT aft \rjTiKTi oi/ re irapx (pvffiv re^vris oirre TrATjflet ovre fj.eye6(:i, 6 

iouTexprjjCtaTto Ti/ojseVTii/erSosouSeV Se TT\OVTOS bpyavcav 7rAf)0os zcrrw 

ets ava-rrX-hpooffiv yap TTJS Kara <pvaiv OIKOVO/ULLKOOV Kal TTO\ITIKU>V. 

T>. 5 c. 9, 1257, b. 28-1258, a, 

1 See p. 173, supra. 14. 

- c. 9, 1257, a, 30 sqq. c. 10, 1258, a, 40: rr,s 5e 

3 C. 9 fill. : Trcpl ovv TTJS re yueTa/SArjTi/cfJs \l/eyo/*i/T]s SiKaicas (ov 
J jur? avayKaias xP r )/ J - aTL(r riK ns . . . yap Kara (pixriv oAA air d\A?jAa>j/ 
! efy)7]Tcu /cal Trept TTJS avayKaias, effrlv), v\oywrara /mcre?rai. rf 
, OTI erfpa / avrrjs otKovo/xiKr? 5e ofio Ao err ariK^j Sia rb air 1 avrov TOV 
\ Kara fyvcriv fj irepl TTJV Tpo$T)V. vofj.ifffj.aTos f ivai T^V KTrjcriv Kal 

4 c. 8, 1256, b, 30 (following OVK e </> oirep eTropiaQy [not from 
the passage cited p. 220,n.4,s^.) : tlie proper use of gold], 

Kal foiKV o y a\r)6ivbs TT\OVTOS CK )8oAf/s a eevfro at 

\r)6ivbs TT\OVTOS CK )8oAf/s yap eyevfro %aptj/, 6 Se 

j TOVTWV tlvai. T] yap TTJS TOtauTTjs TOKOS avTb irate? TrXeov . . . e&<rre 

J KrTj(recos auTap/ma Trpbs ayadyv Kal /xaAtrTTa irapa (pvo~iv OVTOS TWV 

wr]v OVK aweipos SVTIV .... ovSev xP n/ J - aria f jl -^ tariv, 


sion of it into its various kinds, 1 and to a few remarks 

upon the art of obtaining a monopoly of a commodity. 2 

He places, however, a different estimate upon the 

/scientific treatment of these matters and upon the con-. 

duct of them in actual practice. 3 Sharing as he does 

to the fullest extent the Greek contempt for manual 

labour, 4 he naturally assigns to the latter a lower place 

in proportion as it makes less claim upon the moral 

and intellectual qualities, consists more exclusively of 

physical occupations, and stamps the body more deeply 

1 with the marks of toil. 5 

Plato had demanded in his Republic that the famil 1 
and household should be absorbed in the State, 
community of wives, children, and goods had appeare( 
to him to be the arrangement which was most desirable 
and alone suited to the perfect State. Aristotle rejects 
this view. {/Plato desired that all things should be helc 

1 He enumerates in c. 1 1 
three kinds of xP nf jLaTL(r riK ^ 

(1) agriculture, cattle-rearing, 

tfcO. OtKeiOTClTTJ XpTJ/UaTiCTTl/C^ j 

(2) juera/DATjTiKr;, with its three 
branches, f/j-iropia, TOKKT/JLOS, 
fju<r6a.pvia, the last of which 
includes all mechanical indus 
tries ; (3) occupying an inter- 
medial e position v\OTo/j.ia, 
/u.TaX\ovpyia, &c. 

- He desires that a collection 
of these and similar artifices 
should be made (1259, a, 3), 
such as is actually attempted 
afterwards in the second book of 
the Economics. He adduces him 
self only two examples. As a 
rule, he refers to earlier writers 
upon husbandry, &c. (1258, b, 
59). He will not himself linger 

over such subjects, as it is 
/J.GV irpbs ras epyaffias, 
8e TO eV8iaTp//3e/. 
c. 11 init : KO.VTOL Se ra 

e^et, rrjv 8 f/Liireipiav avayitaiav. 

Further proofs of this will 
meet us in the section upon the 
constitution of the State. 

5 Hid. 1258, b, 35: ela-l 5e T X - 

/uei/ TO>I/ epyaffMV OTTGV 
rvx"ns. BavavaoraTai 
5 eV ols TO. (ru/nara AcojSwvTat fjt,d- 
\icrra, 8ov\iKccrarat 8e oirou rov 
crdo^aros TrAeifTTctt xP h a c ~ LS i aycv- 
Vfffrarai Se oirov e Aa^;t(rTOf irpoffSf i 
aperris. With the definition of 
rb $c.vav(rov cf. c 5, 1254, b, 24 
sqq. PLATO, Rep. vi. 495 D 
(Pli. d. Gr. i. 754, 3). 

6 He expresses his views on 


in common in order that the State might be the most 
perfect unity possible. But a State is not merely a 
unity; it is a whole composed of many anfr various 
parts. If perfect unity without multiplicity were the 
highest, then must the State shrink into the Household, 
and the Household into the Individual. 1 But even if we 
granted that unity is the best thing for a State, yet the 
arrangements which Plato proposes would not, he thinks, 
be the proper means for its attainment. Not to speak of 
the difficulties which such proposals would involve in 
their application, 2 Plato had said 3 that the unity of the 
State will be the most complete when all call the same 
thing mine and thine. But this assertion, as Aristotle 
acutely remarks, is ambiguous. >4f all could treat the 
same things as their own private property, unity might 
perhaps be thus promoted. That however, is not pos 
sible. If, on the other hand, children and goods are 
to be the common property of all, the desired result will 
not follow. 4 On the contrary, with the exclusiveness of 
these relationships, all their worth and all that gives 
them real significance would be destroyed : one who had 
the thousandth part of a claim upon each of a thousand 
sons, and was not even quite sure of that, would not 

this subject, not in the first book, yap ri rrjv fyvcnv ccrrlv 77 TTO\IS . 

which treats of the family, but ou ^6vov 8 eV TrAeioVcoi/ avepwirwv 

in the second, which treats of tarlv rj iroXis, aAAo Kal e| eiSti 8m- 

earlier ideal States. This dis- (pepovrav ou yap yiverai irj\is e 

cussion is, however, mentioned o>oiW. This is the basis, more- 

here out of its order for conveni- over, of the self -sufficiency of the 

ence of exposition. State ; ibid, b, 10 sqq. 

1 Pollt. ii. 2, 1261, a, 9 sqq. 2 For a fuller discussion of 

(of. c. 5, 1263, b, 29 sqq.) where, which, see c. 3 sq. 1262, a, 14-40, 

inter alia, he says : KCUTOJ fyavepov b, 24 sqq. 

irpo iovva Kal yivoj.i4vr] fj.ia 3 Hej}. v. 462 C. 

oi/Se TroAis tWa: 7rA??0os ^ C. 3, 1261, b, 16-32. 


feel as a father towards any one. 1 7 The same is true of 
property. Here, also, so far from leading to unity, 
community of possession would be an inexhaustible 
source of strife. 2 What is required is the just distribu 
tion of property and the voluntary surrender of it to a 
common use. :$ Community of goods, on the other 
hand, along with the desire of private possession, 
destroys also the joy of benevolence and generosity; 
and just as community of women annihilates the virtue 
of temperance in the relations of the sexes, so community 
of goods renders impossible that virtue 4 which consists in 
the right attitude towards property. 5 In this opposition 
to the Platonic socialism we shall not only recognise 
Aristotle s practical sense, his clear insight into the laws 
and conditions of actual life, his aversion to all ethical 
onesidedness and his deep knowledge of human nature 
and of social life, but we shall not fail to observe that 
here, as in Plato, the political views are closely connected 
with the principles of the metaphysical system. /JPlato 
had demanded the abolition of all private possession 
and the suppression of all individual interests, because 
it is only in the Idea or Universal that he acknowledges 
any title to true reality. 6 Aristotle refuses to follow 
him here. To him the Individual is the primary reality, 

1 Ibid. 1261, b, 32 sqq. c. 4, reproach with regard to dfatypo- 

1262, a, 40 sqq. ffvv-r] is certainly unjust, for ac- 

- c. 5, 1262, b, 37-1263, a, 27. cording to Plato, each has 10 

3 Ibid. 1263, a, 21-40, where refrain from all women who are 

fin. : (pavtpbv roivvv OTL friXriov not assigned to him by the 

eli/cu pev iS as ras KT^O-CLS rfj 5e government. The Platonic com- 

XpV et irotf tv Koivds. This is re- m unity of women is certainly not 

peated vii. 10, 1329, b, 41. meant to be licence of desire (see 

1 i.e., \.eu0epioT7js, as to which, the further discussion of this in 

see siijn-a. ZELLEB S Vortr. u. Abk. i. 76). 

J Ibid. 1263, a. 40-b, 14. The 6 See Ph. d.Gr. i. p. 780. 


and has the first claim to recognition. In his meta 
physics individual things are regarded, not as the mere 
shadows of the idea, but as independent realities ; 
universal conceptions not as independent substances, 
but as the expression for the common peculiarity of a 
number of individuals. Similarly in his moral philo 
sophy he transfers the ultimate end of human action and 
social institutions from the State to the individual, and 
looks for its attainment in his free self-development. 
The highest aim of the State consists in the happiness 
of its citizens. The good of the whole rests upon the 
good of the individuals who compose it. 1 >4ji like 
manner must the action by which it is to be attained 
proceed from the individual of his own free will. It is 
only from within through culture and education, and 
not by compulsory institutions, that the unity of the 
State can be secured. 2 ^In politics as in metaphysics 

1 Plato had met the objection the other side of the truth ; nor is 

(Pep. iv. 420 B sqq.) that he had it any solution of the difficulty 

failed to make his guardians here raised to represent the life 

happy, with the remark that the of the guardians, as Plato himself 

question is of the happiness, not does in a subsequent passage 

of a part, but of the whole ; (Rep. v. 465 E), as the happiest. 

Aristotle replies (Polit. ii. 5, Plato in principle denies what 

1264, b, 17): aSvt/arov 8e euScu^o- Aristotle asserts, viz. that the 

j/eIV oArjj/, ^ rwv trXeiaTuv v) ^ [we happiness of the individuals as 

should omit this /mrj, or read el ^ such must be the test and crite- 

instead of $ /*$/] irdvrwv /j.ep>v r) terion of all political institutions; 

TivSiv exovTwv r))v evSai/noviav. and for that very reason he in the 

[Similarly, vii. 9, 1329, a, 23: eu- same passage demands that the 

Sai/jiova 5e iroXiv OVK els fj.epos TL individuals should seek their 

j8Aei|/aj/Tas 5eT \eyeiv CIUTTJS, aAA highest happiness in unselfish de- 

els Trdvras rovs TroAiras.] ov yap votion. 

T>I> avT&v Tb fuScu/xoi/eTz/ wvTrep rb - Polit. ii. 5, 1263, b, 36 : the 

apTiov TOVTO yap ej/Se^era: TOO true nature of the State must not 

6\(p virdpx*w T&V Se fj.epwj/ jurjSe- be sacrificed to an exaggerated 

repy, TO Se eiiSai/j.ove iv aSwaTov. conception of unity (see p. 223, n. 

In these remarks we have only l,si<fl.); aAA 5f?7rA7}0os Si/ . . . Sta 

VOL. II. * Q 


the central point with Plato is the Universal, with 
Aristotle the Individual. The former demands that 
the whole should realise its ends without regard to the 
interests of individuals : the latter that it be reared 
upon the satisfaction of all individual interests that 
have a true title to be regarded. 

These remarks form a natural introduction to the 
discussion of the various forms of political constitution. 
To this, after criticising earlier political sketches and 
theories, 1 Aristotle applies himself in the third book of 
the Politics. The link which we should look for between 
the family and the State, viz. the conception of c Society, 
was not yet an object of inquiry. A science of Sociology 
belongs to modern, indeed to quite recent times. Even 
the idea of * the community, to which there then existed 
nearer analogies, is not a special subject of discussion. 
To Aristotle as a Greek the State is coincident with the 
City ; the -community, therefore, so far as it is different 
from the State, can only be the Village ; this, however, 
is a merely transitional form which is lost in the City 
or Nation so soon as a comprehensive social union takes 

rV iraitieiav Koij/V fal fj.tav Troiiiv posals of the Republic, Aristotle 

[sc T})V TroAiv] Kal rov ye fjie\\ovra proceeds to discuss (c. 6) PLATO S 

-rraiSeiav elffdyeiv, Kal vo/ni(ovra Sia Laws [on these and other asser- 

ravTTfjs HffeaOai T^viroXiv o"irov$aiav, tions with regard to Plato s 

aroirov TO?S TOIOVTOIS [community political philosophy sec ZELLER, 

of women and goods] otevBai Platon. Stud. 288 sqq. 203-207] ; 

Siopdovv, aA\a fj.7] TO?S eflecri Kal rrj the proposals of Phaleas and 

<()L\o(TO(f)ia Kal rols VO/JLOIS. Hippodamus (c. 7 sq.); the Spar- 

1 One cannot here enter into tan (c. 9), the Cretan (c. 10), 

the details of this criticism as and the Carthaginian (c. 11) 

they are to be found in the second constitutions ; and, finally (c. 12 : 

book of the Politics. After a see, however, Ph. d. Gr. i. 676), 

lively polemic (c. 1-5) against the laws of Solon, Zaleucus, 

the community of women, chil- Charondas, and other ancient 

dren, and goods, and other pro- legislators. 


the place of mere local association limited to the needs 
of trade. 1 

But the particular institutions by means of which 
this social union has to realise its end, and the forms 
which it must take, will depend essentially upon the 
character of the individuals whom it includes. It is 
with these, therefore, that Aristotle next deals. 

3. The State and the Citizens 

The State is the composite whole, and the con 
stituent parts of it the subjects whose relations to one 
another are determined by the character of the con 
stitution are the citizens. 2 What, then, constitutes a 
citizen or citizenship ? One can live in a city without 
being a citizen of it. Foreigners may even be admitted 
to its courts of law. On the other hand, it is not neces 
sary that the citizen should be born of citizen parents, for 
in that case neither the first founders of a State nor those 
who at any time have the franchise conferred 011 them 
would be citizens. 3 A citizen in the proper sense of the 
word is one who is entitled to take part in the govern 
ment of the State and in the administration of j ustice. A 
State is an aggregate of such persons, which must be suffi 
cient of itself to satisfy all the demands of their common 
life. 4 It is true that as the essence of a thing consists 

1 See p. 208, n. 1, supra. 3 Polit. iii. 1 sq. 1275, a, 7 sqq. 

2 Polit. iii. 1, 1274, b, 36 sqq. : b, 21 sqq. 

the TroAtre a is TUV ryv iro\iv 4 Ibid. c. 1, 1275, a, 22: 

olKovvroiv rd^is ns ; the iroAts, on TroAiTTjs 8 air\<t>s ovSev TWJ/ &\\wv 

the other hand, is a composite 6pierai /ua\\ov ?) TO? ^ere xe" 

whole consisting of many parts Kpiffecas xal apxys (similarly, c. 13, 

TroAiTwv TI 7rAr)0os. 1283, b, 42). After some further 



in general not in its matter but in its form, the essence 
of the State must be sought for in its form or con 
stitution. A State remains the same so long as its 
constitution remains unaltered, even although the indi 
viduals who are the People should change; on the 
other hand, the State changes when its constitution is 
changed, even although the citizens remain the same. 1 
Yet it is equally true that the constitution has to adapt 
itself to the character and condition of the men for 
whom it is designed. The members of the State are 
not equal to one another in every respect, but neither 
are they unequal in every respect. 2 Now all constitu 
tional law is concerned with the distribution of political 
rights and benefits. An equal distribution is just only 
on condition that the persons amongst whom they are 
distributed are themselves equal to one another. If, on 

explanations, in the course of 
which it is pointed out that under 
apx^i we must include the busi 
ness of the popular assembly, Ari 
stotle concludes, ibid, b, 18 : $ yap 
z^ovaia Koivwvzlv apxrjs 0ov\*vTiKfjs 


rb T(av TOIOVTOOV irATJdos 
avrdpKeiav fays. With the last 
clause, cf. p. 208, nn. 1 and 2. 

1 c. 3, 1276, a, 34 : How long 
may the ir6\is be said to be one 
and the same ? So long 1 , it might 
be answered, as it is inhabited by 
the same race. But this is 
wrong : eftrep yap eVrt 
ris 77 TroAis, ffrn Se 
TTO/I ITUJS, TroAiTfias . yiyvoiJ.vris 
erepas rep eftJet Kal Siacpepoixrris rrjs 
iroXiTfias uvayKatov e/z/at 8oetej/ &j/ 
Kal T^V Tr6\iv efi/ai /JL^ rrjv avryv 
.... /xaAitTTa Ae/cre oj/ TV avTv 


I lefTTi Kal ruv avr&v KaroiKO jvrtav 
avTTjv Kal Trd/uLTrav tTtp&v avdpwirwv. 
By TToAire^o, however, we must 
here understand, not merely the 
constitution in the narrower 
sense, but the whole social 

2 Cf. on the one hand p. 223, 
n. 1, and on the other Pol. iv. 11, 
1295, b, 25: jSorfAereM Se ye 7) 
Tr&Vts e| lawv lvai Kal 6fj.oicav on 
paXiffra, for only between such 
is <pi\ia and Koivwvia iroKniK^ 
possible. Cf. vii. 8, 1328, a, 35. 
The citizens, as we shall find, 
will be equal in freedom, in 
common political rights and to a 
certain degree also in common 
social virtue; they will be unlike 
in property, avocation, descent, 
and individual capacity. 


the other hand, the persons are unequal, justice requires 
a,n unequal distribution. In order, therefore, rightly to 
judge of the character of State institutions, we must 
know wherein consists this equality and inequality with 
which the State has to deal. 1 

Of essential importance in this regard are, first of 
all, the occupations and manner of life of the citizens. 2 
Parallel to the distinction which we noted in the House 
hold between freemen and slaves, we have among citizens 
themselves those who are exempt from menial labour, 
and those who have to devote themselves, to it. One 
who performs menial offices for an individual is a slave : 
one who does so for the community is a day-labourer 
(#?7S>) or artisan (ffdvavaos) 3 The importance of this 
distinction appears from the statement 4 that the rights 
of citizenship belong to persons of this class only in 
imperfect States, but not in the best. The object of the 
latter is the happiness of the entire people ; and so, as 
happiness is only attainable through virtue, no one who 
is incapable of true virtue can be a citizen in a State 
of which virtue is at once the basis and the end. 

1 Pol it. iii. 9 init. : Both eli/cu <paaiv. -noiuv 8 Iff6rf]s tffrl 

oligarchy and democracy rest KaliroiwavHroT-ns, Se?^ Xa.vQa.vsiv 

upon ri^ht : but neither upon per- e^et yap TOUT airopiav Kal <iAo- 

fect right, dlov 8o/ce? tffov rb SiKaiov (rotyiav iro\iriKrjV. c. 13,1283, a, 

etVcu, /cat e<TTi/, aAA ov iraffiv aAAa 26 sqq. 
Tols taois. Kal rb O.VHTOV So/ce? 2 Polit. iii, 5, vii. 9. 

SiKaiov eTt/cu KOI yap eVTii/, aAA. 3 iii. 5, 1278, a, 11. 

ov -jrafftv a\\a rols avivois. c. 12, 4 iii. 5, 1278, a, 15 sqq. vii. 9, 

1282, b, KJ: eo-Tt Se iroXiriKbv 1328, b, 27 sqq. 1329, a, 19 sqq. 

ayaObv rb Sucatoi/, TOVTO 8 ftrrl rb On this conception, which will 

Kowrj (rvfj.(pfpov, SoKeT Se -jraffiv tffov often meet us again, especially in 

TI rb SIKULOV elvat, as is explained treating of the best State, see 

in the ethical discussions (see p. further viii. 2, 1337, b, 8 sqq. c. 

171, sit/pra}. rl yap Kal Ticrl rb 4, 1338, b, 33, c. 5, 1339, b, 9, c. 

8 iKaiov, Kal 8e?j/ TO?S taois iaov G, 1310, b, 40, 1341, a, 5, b, 14. 


Birth and property are two further important points 
for consideration. While freemen as such are all 
equal, the nobly born claim to have inherited higher 
ability and rank from their ancestors ; the rich, on the 
other hand, demand a greater share in the government, 
on the ground that the greater part of the national 
property is in their hands, and that propertied men in 
all matters of business are more reliable than un- 
propertied. Aristotle does not, indeed, admit these 
claims unconditionally, but he does not regard them as 
wholly unjustified, for although political privileges 
cannot be claimed on the ground of each and every 
superiority, but only of such as are of political im 
portance, yet it cannot be denied that the advantages 
in question are political. l Thus while in speaking of 
property distinctions he rejects the oligarchical demand 
for a plutocracy with the pertinent observation that it 
would be justifiable only on the supposition that the 
State is nothing but a mercantile company, 2 yet he can 
not conceal from himself that distinctions of wealth are 
of the highest significance for the State. Riches and 
poverty both involve many kinds of moral evil : the 
rich commit outrage through arrogance, the poor 
through dishonesty ; the former know neither how to 
obey nor how to rule over freemen, the latter neither 
how to rule nor how to obey as freemen ; and where a 
State has fallen asunder into rich and poor, it has lost 
the inner bond of its communal life, in the equality, 
unanimity, and social sympathy of the citizens. The 
well-to-do middle class, being the mean, is the best : it 

1 iii. 12 sq. 1282, b, 21-1283, a, 37. - iii. 9, 1280, a, 22 sqq. 


is best secured against excesses of its own and attacks 
of an enemy ; it is the least anxious to put itself 
forward in political life ; when the centre of gravity 
lies in it we have the most orderly and enduring form 
of government. 1 Whosoever would give stability to 
his political institutions must secure the support of 
this class, seeing that it holds the balance between the 
two contending parties of the rich and the poor. 2 More 
important still, however, is the political capacity of the 
citizens. The essential aim of the State is the happi 
ness and moral perfection of the citizens ; he who is able 
to contribute most to this will have the best claim to 
influence in the State. But that which more than any 
other quality fits a man to do so is virtue, especially 
justice and military ability, since, while the latter is in 
dispensable for the preservation of the State, the former 
is that which lies at the foundation of all society and 
involves all other virtues. 3 There are thus different 
principles upon which political rights may be appor 
tioned. 4 According as one or other of these is adopted, 

1 iv. 11, 1295, b, 1 129G, a, * The character and geo- 
21, where it is further shown graphical position of the country, 
that great cities are more exempt and similar external circum- 
from disquiet than small ones, stances might also be here 
because they have a more mime- adduced. To the political import- 
rous middle class ; that demo- ance of these, as may be seen from 
cracies are more stable than Pvlit. vii. 6, c. 11, 1330, b, 17, vi. 
oligarchies, because the middle 7, 1321, a, 8 sqq., Aristotle was 
class finds its-elf more at home keenly alive. He admits that a 
in them only, however, on con- maritime situation favours the 
dition that it does so and rise of a numerous nautical 
that the best lawgivers, e.y. population and thereby pro- 
Solon, Lycurgus, Charondas, have motes democratic institutions, 
belonged to the middle class. He remarks that an acropolis is 

2 iv. 12, 1296, a, 34 sqq. favourable to monarchy and 

3 iii. 9, 1281. a, 2 sqq. c. 12 sq. oligarchy, a flat country to de- 
1283, a, 19-26, 37. mocracy, a number of fastnesses 



or as several of them are combined in a definite manner, 
will be the character of the resulting constitution. For 
while the differences in the general character of States 
depend upon the view taken of their end and of the 
means by which it is pursued, 1 the differences in the par 
ticular form of their constitution depend upon the share 
assigned to the different classes of the citizens in the 
public benefits and in the activities by which these are 
acquired. 2 The decisive question here, however, is : 

to aristocracy ; that where horse- 
breeding succeeds, and cavalry 
is therefore the chief military 
weapon, oligarchies are easily 
formed, &c. At the same time 
he suggests means (ibid. ) to 
counteract such results, and as 
these circumstances do not in 
any case affect the form of con 
stitution immediately, but only 
through the character of the 
people as that is determined by 
them, he leaves them out of 
account in the present investi 

1 vii. 8, 1328, a, 35 : fi 8e 
TroAis KOivwvia ris eVrt TUJV 6/uLoicav, 
8e fays rijs fvSexo/utvns 
. firtl 8 e<n\v v8ai/j.ovia rb 
apiffTov, avrr) Se operas ivtpyeia. 
Kal xpycris ns Te Aaos, o~vfj,@/3r,K 
8e ovTias ware TOVS ywev efSe^e- 
(rdcu fJ-tr^Xfiv avTys, TOVS Se f^iKpov 
t) iWTjSey, SrjAoy cos TOUT ainov 
TOV yiyvco-Qai TroAecos 6^877 KOI 
Bta^opos Kal TroAireias irXeiovs 
&\\ov -yap Tpoirov Kal 5t aAAcoi/ 


fiiovs erepovs TTOIOVVTCU KOL Tas 

2 After enumerating the 
forms of activity which are in 
dispensable to the existence of 
society, and the corresponding 

classes of citizens (farmers, 
artisans, soldiers, proprietors, 
priests, judges and adminis 
trators) Aristotle proceeds ibid. 
C. 9 init. : 8to>pj(r / ueVa>;> 8e TOVTMV 
\oiirbv (TKetyaaQai irdrepov Tracri KOI- 
vwvrjTfOf irdi Tcav TOVTCDV . . . Y) KaQ 
Ka(TTOi> tpyov TUV ziprifJLtvcav aAAoi/s 
virodereov, 2} TO /j.v iSta TO. be KOIVO. 
TOVTOW e| avdyK-qs CVTIV. (Cf. ii. 
1, 1260, b, 37.) TatiTa yap Kal 
irote? Tas iroXiTtias erepas eV pev 
yap TOIS ^/aoKpaTlaLS /xeTe xoutri 
Trai/TesTrai/Tcoi/, ej/Se Ta"is6\iyap^iais 
Tovvavriov, 8imilarly, and with 
express reference to this passage, 
iv. 3, 1289, a, 27 sqq. : TOU /j.ev 
ovv elvai TrAeious iro\tTeias a lTiov 
OTI Tramps ffT\ /xe pTj TrAetco TroAews 
Tbv a.piQp.6v. A State consists of 
an aggregation of households, 
of people of large, small and 
average means, of warlike and 
unwarlike, of farmers, merchants 
and artisans ; further, there are 
differences of birth and capacity 
(apeTTj). Of these classes some 
times fewer, sometimes more, 
sometimes all, share in the 
government (-TroAirei a). Qavepbv 
TO LVVV OTI TrAe ovs avayKalov elvai 
TroAiTetcs ei Set Stacpepovaas aAA- 
TjAcov Kal yap TOUT eiSei Sta^epei 
<r<J>a)j/ auTcov. iroXiTeia /uef 



Who possesses the supreme power who is sovereign ? l 
The different possible ways of adjusting the relations of 
the various classes to one another are therefore enu 
merated by Aristotle with, a view to preparing the 
way for an investigation into the comparative value of 
particular forms of constitution, the conditions of their 
rise and continuance, and the institutions which corre 
spond to them. 

4. Forms of Constitution 

We are accustomed to understand by the term Con 
stitution only the general form of government of a 
particular State the sum of the arrangements which 
regulate the distribution within it of political functions. 2 

yap r) TOOV apx&v rd^is eorl, Tavr^v 
8e 8iav[j.oi>Tai irdvres $) Kara T^\V 
Suva/HIV ruv ^T^OVTWV }) Kara TH/ 
avrcav Iffor-^ra KOIVI]V . . . avay- 
KCUOV apa Tro\iTias elva 1 . Tocravras 
ocraiirfp rd^eis Kara ray uTrepo^ay 
elm Kal Kara ras 8ta<f>opas TUV 
fj.opiwv. With the same view of 
explaining the different forms of 
constitution, the different classes 
in a community are then again 
enumerated (c. 4, 1290, b, 21 sqq.) 
as follows : farmers, artisans, 
traders, day-labourers, soldiers, 
rich (euTropot) who serve the state 
with their money, magistrates, 
judges, and members of the 
supreme administration. (In 
this enumeration, the words 
f!38o/j.ov and oySoov, 1291, a, 33 sq., 
cause a difficult}%to avoid which 
NICKES, De Arist. Polit. li~br. 
110, proposes to read CKTOV and 
e j85o,uoi/, while SUSEMIHL, in loco, 
with CONRING, supposes a lacuna 
before f^So/j.ov, in which he sup 

poses the sixth class was men 

1 iii. 6 init. : We must ask 
how many and what constitutions 
there are ? ICTTI Se TroAireia TroAews 
rdis rotiv re a\\wv ap-^ocv Kal 
/j.d\iffTa TTJS Kvp as irdfTcav. Kvpiov 
/J.fv yap travTaxuv Tt> TroAtreu^ua TVJS 
TToAecos, TroAiTey^a 5 ecrrlv r] TTO\L- 
-rda. (Cf. c. 7, 1279, a, 25.) In 
democracies the people is sove 
reign (/ciipios); in oligarchies only 
a minority of the people : hence 
the difference in these forms of 

2 This is at least the scientific 
conception of the constitution ; 
the written documents which 
define the constitution certainly 
neither contain all that according 
to this conception is included 
under it, nor do they confine 
themselves to it, but generally 
they contain all those laws which, 
as fundamental to the State, seem 
to require special sanction. 


I Aristotle meant far more by it. He comprehends under 
the corresponding word Polity, not only all this, but also 
the substantial character of the community in question, as 
that expresses itself in the accepted theory of the State 
,and in the spirit of its government. 1 He has thus the 
advantage of exhibiting more clearly than is commonly 
done by modern writers the connection of the political 
institutions of a people with its life as a whole, and is 
less exposed to the danger of treating these as some 
thing independent and equally applicable to all com 
munities. Here as elsewhere in the Politic* the leading 
characteristic of his method is the care he takes 
scientifically to trace everything back to its real source, 
and to find the principle of its explanation in its own 
V s peculiar nature. On the other hand, it cannot be 
\ denied that the treatment of political constitutions 
suffers in simplicity when it does not confine itself to de 
ducing them as the forms of an organised civil life from 
the spirit and mutual relations, of the citizens, but mixes 
itself up with the discussion of the legal details of that 
life itself. Aristotle is not free from this confusion, 2 

1 As is obvious, inter alia, -noXireiav, a# oi>s Selrovsapxovras 

from p. 232, n. 1, with which cf. &/>x ei " "^ <pv\drriv rovs irapa- 

p. 232, n. 2, and p. 233, n. 1, supra, fiaivovras avrovs. So also vii. 13 

- Besides the passage ju^t re- init., and thronghoiit the whole 

ferred to above, see esp. Polit. discussion of the different forms 

1, 1289, a, 13: npbs jap ras of constitution, the question as 

iTfias TOVS v6fj.ovs 5el TiQtaQa.L to the nature of the iroAireia is 

riQevrai irdvres, aAA ov ras taken to involve that of the 

bs rovs v6p.ovs. iroXi- ultimate aim of the State, and 

re ia fj.fv yap eo-ri rdis rats Tr6\e<nv the investigation into the api<mj 

r/ Trepi ras apxas, riva rpoirov TroAireta (see infra}.. is more con- 

rivTa.i, Kal ri TO Kvpiov rr)s cerned with the laws upon educa- 

ems Kal ri rb reAos 6/ca<rT7js tion and the like than with 

Koivuvlas eariv vo/j.oi Se questions properly constitutional 

icr/ieVoi roav Srj\ovvroov ryv in our sense. 


although in general he has clearly distinguished be- \ 
tween questions of law and constitution. 1 

In investigating political constitutions Aristotle 
complains 2 that previous writers had contented them 
selves with representing an ideal State, or else with 
eulogising the Spartan or some other historical consti- 

tution. Aristotle himself aims at a more exhaustive I ,,^F 
treatment of his subject. Political science cannot, he 
says, any more than any other, limit itself to the 1L- 
description of an ideal. It must also show what 
form of State is the b^gfr-jrttemdbie^under certain given 
circumstances ; it must further take account of actually 
existing constitutions and of the conditions of their rise 
and maintenance ; and it must be able, finally, to declare 
what institutions are best adapted for the majority of 
States. 3 The description of the political ideal must 

1 See preced. n. and Polit. ii. sets before Politics a fourfold 
6, 12G5, a, 1 ; Etli. x. 10, 1181, b, problem: (I) iroXireiavr^vapiffr nv 
12 : as his predecessors have not 6ewp?i(rai ris eari ital iroia. TIS 
(sufficiently) investigated the ovaa ^dAioV en? KO.T et<xV> 
question of legislation, he will e/ji,irodi{ovTosTwveKT6s; (2) besides 
himself treat generally of this the airbus KpaT.ffT-n to discuss 
as well as of the State (TroAtreia). also TT]V e/c TOJJ/ viroKci/uifvoitvapio TTiv; 
L. 21: iroia TroAn-eia aplari], Kal similarly (3), rV e l vTro6<!<Tews, and 
7T<s e/facrTTj raxfleto tf, Kal ricri VOJJLQIS (4) T^V /j-dXicrra Trdtrais rous -xoXeffiv 
Kal eOecri xpajjuepTj. ap/JLorrovcrav (oil which see C. 11 

2 Polit. iv. 1, 1288, b, 33 sqq. init. ). Of these four questions 
This complaint, however, is not the third has not infrequently been 
altogether just in respectof Plato, very strangely misunderstood, e.g. 
who not only in the Lams had by BAETHKLEMY ST-HILAIRE, 
placed a second State beside his but also by GOTTLING in loco. 
ideal republic, but in the Rep. Aristotle himself, however, states 
itself had fully discussed the (1288, b, 28) his meaning quite 
imperfect forms of constitution, unambiguously. en Se Tprrrji/, 
It is true, however, that none of he says, r^v e uTrofleVecos Set yap 
these investigations satisfies Ari- Kal rrjV SoQelffav ovvaaQai 0ewpeu/, 
stotle s requirements. e| apx^s re TTUS Uv ytvoiro, ical 

3 Polit iv. 1. Aristotle here y^vo^vf] riva rpoirov b.v ata^oiro 




therefore be supplemented by a comprehensive survey 
of actual facts. Aristotle does not renounce such an 
ideal, but desires at the same time to investigate all 
other possible forms of State, the conditions under which 
they naturally rise, the laws which they adopt, and 
the institutions by which they are maintained. He 
examines States with the keen sense of the scientific 
investigator, who pays equal regard to the small and 
the great, to the normal and the abnormal, as well as 
with the practical eye of the statesman, who desires to 
do justice to the actual circumstances and adapt his 
ideal to the given conditions. 1 He possesses, moreover, 

7rAe?a"roi/ y^povov Ae -yco 5 olov ei 
TIVI TroAet ffvfj./3e0riKe ^UTjre TT]V 
oAiTeiWflat TroAireiai/ 
re elvai Kal TUV avay- 
[the necessary requisites 
for the best], yurjre rrjv tVSe^o/xfvrji/ 
6/c ritiv vTrapxovTwv, (iAAa nva 
(pavKorepav. (C f. iv. 11. 1296, b, 
9 : Ae -yw 5e rb irpos fnroQecriv, on 
TToAAa/as ovfftis aAArjs 
eviois ovdev 

/ ; also v. 11, 1314, a, ;58.) 
The Tro\iTela e| inrodeffeias is, ac 
cording to this statement, identi 
cal with 7) So0e?cra TroAtret a, 
vjToQeo-is indicating- the given 
case, the particular circumstances 
that are actually present, and 
having, therefore, essentially the 
same meaning as on p. 247, n. 2, 
and Ph. d. Gr. i. 1015 med., where it 
is distinguished from 0<m. With 
the above passage PLA.T. Laws, 
v. 739, A sqq., has been compared. 
The resemblance, however, is a 
remote one ; for (1) Plato speaks 
not of four but only of three 
States to be depicted ; (2) he 

enters into no details with refer 
ence to the third of these (the 
first is that of the Rep., the 
second that of the Laws), but he 
can hardly have been thinking 
of actually existing States ; (3) 
even the second State, that of 
the Laws, does not correspond 
with Aristotle s TroAire/a e/c rav 
vtroKifjLtv(av a.pi(TTT], for Plato does 
not show in this work what is 
the best that can be evolved from 
existing circumstances, but, just 
as in the Hep., sketches the 
outline of an ideal Slate, which 
only differs from that in the 
Rep. in bearing a closer resem 
blance to reality. Still less can 
the State in the Laws be identified 
with Aristotle s TroAn-ei a e | virode- 
crews apiffrt], nor would Gvote 
have done so (Plato, iii. 357 sq.) 
had he not wrongly explained 
uTro flerm to mean an assumed 

1 See his complaint against 
his predecessors, ibid. 12^8, b, 
35 : &s ol TrAelo TOt rwv airofyc 
jj-tvitiv Trtpl iroXiTfias, Kal et raAAo 


the philosophic spirit, which traces political institutions \ 
bask to their inner sources, looks past individual facts 
to universal conceptions, and while engaged in the 
investigation of existing realities keeps an eye steadily 
fixed on the ideal. It is just this combination of dis 
similar and rarely united qualities that makes Ari 
stotle s political philosophy so unique and unrivalled in 
its kind. 

Two points of view haye emerged in the preceding 
discussion, from which we may distinguish and esti 
mate the different forms -of political constitution 
viz. the recognised aim of government, and the distri 
bution of political power. In the former respect the 
contrast is between those States in which the common 
good and those in which the advantage of the rulers is 
pursued as the highest end. 1 In treating, on the other 
hand, of the distribution of political power, Aristotle 
retains at first the customary arithmetical division of 
States according as they are governed by one, by some, 
or by all of the citizens. Combining these two principles 
he enumerates six forms of constitution, three of whic 
are good and three bad, setting down all those as un 
just and despotic in which the aim is not the common 
good, but the advantage of the rulers. 2 Where the 

| \eyovcri Ka\5js, rcav ye -)(_pt\a[^wv aims primarily at the good of the 

j u . governed, but in a secondary way 

1 iii. 6. 1278, a, 30 sqq. : As in also at that of the head of the 

the household the government of house in so far as he is himself 

the slaves aims at securing in the a member of the family so in 

first instance the advantage of the State we must distinguish 

the master, and only secondarily the two above-mentioned kinds 

[ that of the slaves as a means to of government. 

[ the former, and as the government - iii. (> /m. : (pavepbv Toivw &s 

of the family, on the other hand, oaai IJ.GV 7roAiTe?cu rb Koivy <rv(j.<pepov 





I administration has for its object the common good, if 
one is the sovereign, we have a monarchy ; if a minority, 
an aristocracy ; if the whole body of the citizens, a 
polity ; where it has for its object the advantage of 
the sovereign, monarchy degenerates into tyranny, 
aristocracy into oligarchy, polity into democracy. 1 This 

aKoirovaiv, avrai /j.ev opQal 


ticrai 8e TO atyertpov p.6vov rtav 
iraaai Kal 
bpQu>v TroAiTetwv 
8eo"7nm/ca} yap, rj 8e Tr6\is Koivuvia 
ruv (\evdepwv early. Hence iii 
17 init. : eari yap rt fyvaet fiecnroff- 
rbv Kal a\\o BaffiXevrbv KcA a\\o 
TroAtTi/cbi/ Kal fi iKatov Kal av/j.(p(pov 
8 OVK eo"Ti Kara <pv(riv, 
TUV ciAAwi TroAtTeicuj/ o o cu 
flaiv raina yap 
yiyverai irapa (pvaiv. 

1 Polit. iii. 7, iv. 2, 1289, a, 
26, b, 9 ; Mh. viii. 12. Aristotle s 
account is here essentially that of 
Plato in the Politicus (cf. Ph. d. 
Gr. i. p. 784J, of which he himself, 
Polit. iv. 2, 1289, b, 5, reminds 
s, while at the same time he 
differs from it in a single respect. 
There is, indeed, between the 
Ethics and the Politics this 
divergency, that while in the 
latter the third of the three true 
forms of constitution is called 
simply polity, it is said in the 
Ethics : TJO. TTJ 8 ^ euro 
$}v r i^oKpaTiK^v \ey 
^cuVercu.TroAtTei af 8 avr 
ol TrAeuTTOi /caAetV. This dis 
crepancy, however, is not so 
important that we may infer 
from it a change in Aristotle s 
political views, or that to peimit 
time for its occurrence we mav 
place the Ethics on this ground 

considerably earlier than the 
Politics. For as a matter of 
fact the latter also describes its 
polity as a timocracy (see Ph. 
d. Gr. i. p. 745 sq.), so that the 
difference resolves itself finally 
into this : that in the Ethics, 
brcvitatis causa, Aristotle calls it 
timocracy, whereas in the Politics 
he appropriates to it the common 
term TroAtre/a, as he has room 
here to describe more accurately 
what he means by it. IsocR. 
Panath. 131, has been taken to 
refer to the passage just cited 
from the Ethics (ONCKBN, Staatsl. 
d. Arist. ii. 1GO), and the conclu 
sion drawn that the Ethics cannot 
have been composed later than 
ann. 342-339 B.C. (HENKEL, Stud, 
ziir Gesch. d. griech. Lehre vom 
Staat, 46 ; Oncken takes another 
view). But it seems more probable 
that the passage refers to Plato, 
who in the Politicus (302 D sq.) 
adduces legal democracy, and 
in the Bejmblic (viii. 545 B, c) 
timocracy, as peculiar forms of 
constitution ; for Isocrates does 
not say that the writer upon 
whom his attack is made identi 
fies these two (as Aristotle does). 
If, however, we are to find here 
a reference to the followers of 
Plato as well, and especially to 
Aristotle, it would probably be 
better to suppose that the rhe 
torician has in view one of his dia- 


principle of arrangement, however, is not consistently \ 
preserved throughout ; for while it might appear from ! 
the above statement that aristocracy and polity differ j^> 
from monarchy only in the number of the rulers, we \f 
learn in another passage that this itself depends upon | 
the character of the people. So the government by 
one is natural where in a people one family has a pre 
eminent faculty for government; aristocracy, where a 
community of free citizens is content to submit to the 
government of the fittest ; polity, where the population 
is a military one which, having distributed the offices 
of State among the propertied classes according to the 
standard of merit, knows both how to command and 
how to obey. 1 Referring further to the distinctiofiT"f"T 
between democracy and oligarchy, Aristotle criticises 
those who look for it in the fact that in the former the 
whole body, in the latter a minority, of the citizens 
hold the sovereignty. This numerical distinction, hell 
holds, is merely accidental and derivative : the essential 
opposition of these two forms of constitution consists in 
the fact that in the one the rich, in the other the poor, 
bear rule. 2 In like manner that polity which stands 
between them is distinguished by the preponderance of 
the middle class. 3 Elsewhere he finds the characteristic I 


logues (such as that mentioned in (peptiv ir\i}Qos &pxe<rdai 

\Polit. iii 6; see i. p. 119, n. 1, rfyvruve \evdepoov ap-x^vvirb 

I supra). That the Ethics cannot aperr??/ i)yefj.oi>iKwv irpbs TTO\ITIK^V 

! have been composed so early as apxV, KOSTIKOV 5e Tr\rjeos ev $ 

i Henkel believes, has already been TT^VKCV eYyiWflcu irXrjeos iro\e/uLt- 

, shown, i. p. 154 sq. /cbi/, 8vvd/u.Gvov &pxe(T0cu Kal apxtiv 

I 1 iii. 17, 1288, a, 1 : l3a<ri\VTbv KOTO. v6/j,oi/ rbv /car dmj/ 5to- 

j/iey ovv rb TOIOVTOV eVri ir\rj9os Vjj.ovra rots VTr6pois ras apxds. 

j & ire(pvKe (ptpeiv 761/05 virep^ov KO.T 2 Polit. iii. 8, cf . C. 7 Jin. IV. 

jape-TV Tpl>s yye/jLovias TroArn/cV. 11, 12, 1296, a, 1, b, 24 sqq. 

i apiffTOKpaTiicbv 5e irA ^os o irtyvKf 3 iv. 12, 1296, b, 38. 



peculiarity of democracy in freedom and equality, in 
the fact that all free men have an equal share in the 
government ; and then combining this principle with 
the two others, he says that in democracy the majority 
of the poor and the free, in oligarchy conversely the 
minority of the rich and the noble, are the rulers ; l for 
since in a State where all are equal the majority of votes 
decides, and the poor always form a majority, these 
have necessarily the power in their own hands. 2 Fol 
lowing up the same line of thought, he indicates virtue, 
wealth, and freedom as severally characteristic of dif 
ferent forms of constitution : virtue of aristocracy, 
, wealth of oligarchy, freedom of democracy. 3 In a third 

1 iv. 4, where it is first said 
(1290, b, 1) : Sfjjiios fj.ev ecrriv orav 
oi eAeuflepoi Kvpioi &ffiv, oXiyapx ia 
8 orav ol irXovffioi, but afterwards 
at the end (1. 17): dAA e<m 
Sr]/j.oKparia orav ol e Aeuflepo: 
Kal aTTOpoi TrXeiovs ovres Kvpioi rr/s 
apxys Siffiv, oXiyapx ia 8 6rav ol 
TrXovaioi Kal evyevtffrfpoi oXiyoi 
ovres. Ibid. 1291, b, 34: etirep 
yap eXevOepia ,uaAi<7T fffrlv eV 
St]/j.OKparia Kaddirep viroXa/jifidvovffi 
rives Kal Iff6rfis. 

- vi. 2 init. ; vir66tffis jjCev otiv 
TTJS 5-n/J.OKpariKris TToXireias e Aeu- 
0epia [or as it is expressed 1317, 
b, 16 : eAeuflepia rj Kara ro tffov^ 
. . . \ev9epias 8e ev /J-tv rb ev 
jitepei apx^ffQai Kal apx w, fal 
yap rb diKaiov rb Srj/j.oriKbv rb 
?<rov exetv effrl /car api6/ aAAa 
/j.r) Kar aiav, rovrov 8 ovros rov 
8t/ca/ou rb irXriQos avayKaiov elvat 
Kvpiov, Kal 6 ri fcy 6r) rots irXeioffi, 
TOUT tlvai Kal TeAos Kal TOUT efi/at 
TO SiKatov (paffi yap 8e?j/ tcrov 
tKacrrov r&v Tro\irwv tfxrre 

ev rats 0-^fj.oKpariaLS 
Kupidirepovs eli/at rovs a-jr6povs rtav 
vir6p(av ir\eiovs yap fieri, Kvpioi> 
8e TO rots 7rAeioo"t 86av. The 
equality of all citizens is thi 
seen to be the fundamental point 
from which government bj 
majority follows as an inference 
(o-UjUjScuVet) and from that again 
government by the poor. 
3 iv. 8, 1294, a, 10: 
Kparias p-ev yap opos 
o\iyapx ias Se TrAouTOs, Srj^uou 8 
L. 19: Tpi a eo-Ti T^ 
rrjs Iff6rf]- r os rr\s 
, e Aeu^ep a TTAOUTOS apeT^j 
(Tb yap reraprov, o KaXovffiv 
evyeveiav, d/coAou0eT TO?S Svffiv y 
yap evyeveid effriv ap^cuos TT\OVTOS 
Kal aper fj). Cf. iii. 12, 1283, a, 
16 sqq. (see p. 229, supra} , v. 9, 
1310, a, 28 ; RJiet. i. 8, 1366, a, 
4 : eo~Ti 8e Sr]/jLOKparias /u 
eAeuflepta, oAiyapx ias 5e 
apiffroKparias Se Ta Trpbs 
Kal ra v6fj.ifjia, rvpavviSos 8e 


passage l he enumerates four constitutions : democracy, 
oligarchy, aristocracy, and government by one. In a 
democracy, he says, the offices of government are dis 
tributed according to lot, in an oligarchy according to 
property, in an aristocracy according to education. 2 
The government of one is a monarchy if it is founded 
upon law and order ; otherwise it is a tyranny. These 
statements are not altogether consistent with one ( 
another; but a still greater difficulty arises from the jj 
circumstance that in the further development of his argu 
ment Aristotle diverges widely from the order of arrange 
ment which is naturally suggested by the previous survey 
of the different forms of constitution. Thus we should 
have expected from Book III. 14 onwards a discussion 
first of the three good kinds of State, and then of the . 
three bad. Instead of this, Aristotle follows up the 
introductory dissertations which occupy chaps. 9-13 
of the third book with a discussion of monarchy (III. 
14-17); he next proposes to investigate (III. 18) 
the best form of State, which, however, he only partially 
does in the books (VII. and VIII.) which ought to follow 
here; he next turns, in the fourth book (chap. 2), 
to the remaining forms of constitution, with the 
remark that of the six previously enumerated forms 
monarchy and aristocracy have been disposed of, as 
these coincide with the best State, and that it therefore 
I remains to discuss polity, oligarchy, democracy, and 

J \Rhet i.S 1365, b, 29. political capacity and attach- 

, naiScla vTrb rov vo^ov Ket^vr,, ment to the existing constitution 

by which we^areto understand which spring from it: ol 

not so much intellectual culture ^le/te^re? eV rots vo ^ oa <? T7 ? 

as an education iu accordance ct/nerro^aT/a fyxovw, ibid. 1. 35 
with law and morality and the 





tyranny ; he accordingly now proceeds to investigate, 
in the first place (chap. 4, 1291, b, 14-chap. 6, end), 
the different forms of democracy and oligarchy ; then 
(chap. 8 sq.) polity as the proper blending of these 
two constitutions, along with several kindred forms 
^(chap. 7); and, lastly, tyranny (chap. 10). This 
/ divergence from the previous account is much too 
fundamental to permit of its being accounted for by the 
incomplete character of the Politics alone, and too 
indispensable to permit of its being explained away. 1 
""We are forced to admit that just as Aristotle in his 
account of the distinguishing characteristics of demo 
cracy and oligarchy unites several different points of 
view which he fails completely to harmonise with one 
another, so also in his treatment of polity he is not free 
from a certain vacillation. On the one hand, h< 
reckons it among the good States, on the ground tl 
it is based upon the virtue of the citizens and aims at 
the common good. On the other hand, he is unable to 

1 E. fj. in the manner pro 
posed by FJ-SCHNEB (lib. d. Ge- 
recktigTwvtnbegriff d. Arist. p. 
71 sq. n., cf.p. 92, l),who assumes 
that by the polity of Etli. viii. 
12 and Polit. iv. we muse under 
stand something different from 
the true polity which appears 
in Polit. vii. as the ideal State. 
Setting aside the unlikelihood of 
Aristotle s describing two dif 
ferent forms of constitution by 
the same name without qualify 
ing addition, and of his totally 
omitting in his subsequSn^ dis 
cussion all further mention of the 
4 true polity described in iiyAve 

may point out : (1) that the 
perfect State described in vii 
and viii. is never referred 
(not even iii. 7, 1279, a, 39, vi 
14, 1332, a, 34) as polity (iroKireia. 
simply), but as aristrocacy or 
apiorri TroAireia (<?,</. iv. 7, 1293, b, 
1, c. 2, 1289, a, 31), and that 
polity stands only third among 
true constitutions : (2) that in 
pas c ages such as Polit. iv. 2 init. 
c. 8 init. we are expressly for 
bidden to make any distinction 
between the polity of iv. and of 
the Ethics, and the polity pre 
viously mentioned among the true 
forms of constitution. 



place it on a level with true monarchy and aristocracy. 1 T" 
For it is still government by the many, and a majority I 
can never atttain to so high a degree of virtue and jj 
insight as is possible to one or to few. The one field in" 
which a polity can win distinction is the military, and 
accordingly the sovereign in it will naturally be the 
collective body of those capable of bearing arms. 2 The 
virtue, therefore, upon which the State is here founded 
is an imperfect one. The natural antagonisms between 
the citizens are not removed, as in an aristocracy, by a 
comprehensive and uniform education of all and an 
equal freedom from meaner employments. The pro 
blem, therefore, must be to devise for it such institu 
tions that antagonistic forces will be held in equilibrium, 
the excesses alike of democracy and of oligarchy avoided, 
and the foundation laid for that predominance of the 
middle classes which constitutes in Aristotle s opinion, 
as we shall see, the chief advantage of polity. WhiL 
it is possible in this way to explain the place which thi 
form of constitution occupies in Aristotle s account, th 
ambiguity of its position remains a permanent defect i 
his theory of the State. The fundamental mistak 


1 Cf. Mh. viii. 12, 1160, a, TiKpi&uo-eat -jrpbs iraaav 

35 : TOVTUV 5e [of the true forms dAAa ^aAurra rr]v TroA^u/crji/ 

of State] /3eATio"T77 yuev 77 /SacnAeta, yap eV Tr\.r t Qti yiyj/erai. 

Xeipio-TTjS ^T^o/cpaTta (which here Kara ravr^v TT)J/ -iroXiTe iav ,^ 1W - 

= 7roAiT6ia; Cf. p. 238, n. l,wp.) TO.TOV TO Trpoiro^ow Kal 

b, 10: democracy is chiefly related xv ffi v avrrjs ol /ceKT^eVoi ra 

to timocracy, the majority of the ciTrAa. In accordance with this 

citizens ruling in both with equal passage and c. 17 (see 239, n 1 

right, and springs from it almost supra] we should read in l 37 

imperceptibly. (differently from SPENGEL, Abh 

^ m % 7, 1279,^3, 39: eVa /**i/ d. Munchn. Aliad. pUlos.-pltihl. 

yap Siatpepeiv (tar aperrjv j) 6\iyovs Kl. v. 23), instead of TO 

" "*" TrAeioyy 5 ^77 vaAeTror TO 

K 2 



(however, which is the cause of this ambiguity, consists 

in the crude division of political constitutions into good 

and bad, with which he starts. In polity and that 

\ improper form of aristocracy which is akin to it, there 

I obtrudes itself between these two alternatives a third 

kind, which has no clear place assigned to it, unless 

we give up this division and supplement the qualitative 

opposition between good and bad by a quantitative 

difference in degrees of perfection. 1 

Inquiring next into the respective titles of these 
different forms of constitution, we must first recaty what 
as said above viz. that in each and all of them the 
question is of a distribution of rights and privileges 
which can only be determined according to the prin 
ciples of distributive justice. These demand that 
equals receive an equal portion ; unequals, on the 
contrary, in proportion to their inequality an unequal 
portion. 2 It is not, however, each and every superiority 
that entitles to political privileges, but only those which, 
like birth, freedom, wealth, virtue, stand in intimate 
relation to the qualities which are essential to a citizen, 
and are the indispensable elements in a full and satisfy- 

1 Aristotle himself lakes simply into good and bad, seeing 
occasion (iv. 8ii.) to justify the that what differentiates polity 


assgns to polity. 
OUTCOS, he says, OVK 

OVT TOLVT-nV [polity] TTap- 

tK&3Lffiv ovre -as aprt 
on TO fi 

fn rf?s opQora.ri]s 

TroArreias, &c. But this only 
serves to corroborate the above 
remarks. For if polity is neither 
the best nor a vicious form of 
constitution, it is obvious that 
constitutions cannot be divided 

from the best State is a mere 
want, so that one and the same 
constitution presents itself in 
comparison with the best as a 
defective one (SiTj/xopTTj/cacn), in 
comparison with all others as a 
true one. Even in respect of the 
other forms Aristotle admits 
that they may be relatively 
good; cf. e.g. *v. 9, 1809, b, 

See p. 228 sq. supra. 


ing social life. 1 But exfen any one of such advantages! 
as these confers no title to rule in the State. Those who! 
demand to stand on a footing of equality with others 
in everything because they are equal in something, or 
who assert pre-eminence in all respects on the ground of 
pre-eminence in some, put forward an unfounded claim. 2 
The problem therefore is, to determine the relative 
worth of those qualities upon which a title to political , 
privileges can. be based, and thus to estimate the value 
of the claims of the various classes to the sovereignty, 
these express themselves in the various forms of coi 
stitution. 3 The highest of these qualities, and th; 
which in the perfect State is alone of importance 
Aristotle declares, as we have already seen, 4 to b( 
virtue ; although he does not deny to the others their] 
importance. But besides the character of individuals, 
we must also take into account their numerical proporj 
tion. It does not follow because an individual or tl 
members of a minority are superior to all the 
individually in virtue, insight and property, that tnpy 
must therefore be superior to the whole body taken 
together. A majority of individuals, each of wh< 
taken by himself is inferior to the minority, may as 
whole possess an advantage over them, as each membej 
finds his complement in the other, and all thus attain 
higher perfection. The individual contribution to the 

1 iii. 12, 1282, b, 21-1283, a, thus, but the above statement of 
23 ; of. p. 229 sq. wpra. it corresponds to what he says 

2 iii. 9, 1280, a, 22, c. 13, iii. 13, 1283, a, 29- b, 9 upon the 
1283, a, 26, v. 1, 1301, a, 25 anQicrftf.Triffis and the itpiffts rivas 
sqq. b, 35. fyx Se? - 

3 Aristotle does not himself P. 230 sq. sitpra, 
formulate the problem precisely 



State in this case is less, but the sum of the contribu 
tions is greater than in the case of the others^ If 
this does not hold of every body of people without 
distinction, yet there may be peoples of whom it is 
true. 2 In such cases, while it would certainly be wrong 
to entrust to individual members of the majority offices 
of State which require special personal qualifications, 
yet it must be the people as a whole who in the public 
assemblies and law courts pass decisions, elect magi 
strates, and supervise their administration, 3 all the more 
as it would be in the highest degree dangerous for the 
State to convert the majority of the citizens into 
enemies by completely excluding them from a share in 
the government. 4 In answer to the objection that this 
is to set the incapable in judgment over the capable, to 
place the more important function (viz. the highest 

1 Aristotle frequently returns 
to this acute remark, which is of 
so much importance in estimat 
ing democratic institutions ; see 
iii. 11 init.: OTL Se 5e? Kvpiov fivai 
/j.a\\ov Tt> ir\T)dos v) TOWS apicrTOVs 

Kai Tiv 1 %X* iv airopiav, ra^a 8e KUV 
a\-fjdfiav. TOVS yap TroAAous, &v 
cKaa-Tos effTiv ov o"irov8a7os avrjp, 

ii (rvvfXdovTas ivai 

wv, ovx ws eKaffTOV 
aAA u>s ffv/uLiravTas, oiov Ta 
prjTa SelTrva TWV e/c /J-ias 
XopriyrjOfVTb)]/ [similarly c. 15, 
128(>, a, 25]- TroAAwv yap OVTCOV 
fKacrTOV /j.6pLov ^x flv apfTTJs Kal 
(})pov f)0~ws, Kal yivo~9ai ffweXOovTas 
Sbcnrep fva avdpwirov Tb irhvQos KaOapa Tpofy^ 

e YOJ/T alffdrfcTfLS. OVTU Kal Trepl 6\iyr]S ^copts 
TO ^e-r\ Kal TV Sidvoiav. C. 13, irepl Tb Kpiveiv f 
1283, a, 40: aAAa rfv Kal ol 

irpbs TOVS eAaTTOus [sc. 

Kal yap Kpeirrovs Kal 
Kal /SeArious flcrlv, &s 

fJLVCt)V rS)V TT\l6v<)V TTpbs TOVS 

e ActTTovs. 1283, b, 33: 

KW\V6l 7TOT6 

T&V 6\iy<av 

us /ca0 eKaffrov aAA ws adp6ovs. 
8 iii. 11, 1282, b, 15. 

3 By the public scrutiny 
(6w0t5v77), c. 11, 1281, b, 33, 1282, 
a, 26. 

4 c. 11, 1281, b, 21 sqq., 
especially 1. 34 : -rravres fj.V yap 


rols )3eAT/ocrt ras 

v, KaQdnep }) ^ 

TTJS Kadapas rfyv 


authority in the State) in the hands of those who are 
excluded from the less important (viz. the individual 
offices), Aristotle adds to the above exposition 1 the 
further pertinent observation that there are many things 
of which the user can judge as well as or better than 
the specialist who makes them : 2 in other words, that 
the people, although it may not understand much about 
the details of State and government, may yet know well 
enough whether or not a government is advancing its 
interests. [The smaller capacity, therefore, of the indi 
viduals may be counterbalanced and even outweighed by 
their greater numbers ; and vice versa, their greater 
capacity by their smaller number. The more capable 
have no claim to the possession of power if there are too . 
few of them to govern or to form of themselves a State. 3 \ ^ 
The first condition of the survival of any constitution is 
that its supporters should be superior to its enemies. 
But this is a question, not of quality alone, but of 
numbers. It is only by taking both of these elements / 
into account that we can properly estimate the balance/ 
of political power. The stronger party is the one whicW 
is superior to the other, either in both these respects 
or so decisively in one of them that the deficiency in| 

1 Cf. further c. 11, 1282, a, TrAeToi/ TO Trdvrcav rovriav 3) ru>v 

14 : etrTcu yap ewacrTOS fj.ev %ei pa>i/ KaO eVa Kal /car 6\iyovs fj.eyd\as 

KpiT7]s TU>V flSorwv, airavTs Se apx&s apxovToov. 

ffvveA6ovTS /) /3eATious y) ov %eipous. - Ibid. 1282, a, 17. 

L. 34: ov yap 6 Swao-rfc ou5 6 3 iii. 13, 1283, b, 9: et S^ riv 

KK\7](Tia<TTr]s apxvv earlv, a\Xa TO apid/n^v elei/ 0X1701 Tra.fji.irav ol T^V 

SiKa<TT"hpioi/ KOI T/ )8ouA^ Kal 6 STAGS dper^i/ ^xovres, riva Se? 5ieAe7f rbv 

T&V 5e pr]devT(av Ka(TTOs fj.6pi.6v rpoirov ; v) TO o\iyot Trpbs TO epyov 

fffn TOVTUV . . . Sxrre SiKaicas 8e? (TKoir^lv, et dvvarol SioiKfTv r^v 

Kvpiov /j.i6vwv TO Tr\?i6os K yap Tr6\iv r) TO&OVTOI TO ir\ridos SXTT 

iro\\S>v 6 STJ/J.OS Kal T] /SouAr; Kal TO elvai ir6\iv e| alruv. 
8iKaffT-j]piov. Kal TO Tt/^rj^a Se 


the other is more than counterbalanced. 1 The influence 
of individuals or classes will be in proportion to the 
. amount which they severally contribute to the stability 
jof the State and the attainment of its end. The end, 
Jhowever, must always be the good of the whole, and 

not the advantage of any particular class. 2 And since 
this object is more certainly attained under the rule of 
law than under that of men, who are continually subject 

. to all kinds of weakness and passion, Aristotle differs 
) from Plato 3 in concluding that it is better that good 

laws hold sway, and that magistrates be left to the 
freedom of their own will only in cases which laws fail 

I to cover, owing to their necessary universality and the 

\ impossibility of taking account of every individual case 
\that may occur. If it be objected that the law may 

1 iv. 12, 1296, b, 15 : Se? yap labourers, &c., preponderate] . . . 

Kprirrov elVou rb jSoi/Ao /xei/oy pepos oirov 8e rb rcov evirbpuv Kal 

rrfs ir6\ws rov u.}} ySouAo/ie i/ov yvup ifjaav /j.a\\ov virepreivei r<? 

peveiv r}]v iroKireiav. [So v. 9, iroiy fy \eiirerai TO? TrotraJ, evravda 

1309, b, 16.] fffri 5e Tracra TroAis 5e b\iyapx av, Kal rijs oAt-yapxias 

IK re rov TTOIOV Kal rov iroyov. rov avrbv TOQTTOV fKaffrov 

Aeyco 8e TTOIOV /u.6i/ (\evQfpiav ir\ov- Kara rr\v virfpoxyv rov bi 

rov iraL^eiav evyeveiav, iroabv 5e irAr/flovs . . . uirov Se rb 

r)]v rov Tr\~f)9ovs virepox fiv. ej/5e- uTrepreti/et TTATJ^OS i) 

X*rai 5e rb /j.ev iroibv virapxew TU>V axpcav ^) Kal Oarepov 

erepa) yuepfi TTJS TroAecos, . . . aAAy tvravd eVSe ^erai iro\ireiav rival 

5e /ucpet rb iroo~bv, olov TrAeious TOV JJ.OVLU.OV. 

apiO/jibv elvai ruv yevvaiwv rovs 2 iii. 13, 1283, b, 36 : Ought 

ayW?s v) rwv TrAoucricoj/ rovs b.ir6- the legislator to look to the ad- 

povs, yu.^ /j.4vroL roo~ovrov virepex lv vantage of the better or of the 

rtf iroa-y bffov AeiVeo-^at rcj> irotaj. greater number ? rb 5 bpdbv 

Sib ravra irpbs aAArjAa ffvyKpirtov. \rjirreov tvus rb 5 tfftas bpdbv 

oirov fj,sv ovv vTTfpfx* 1 T ^ Tuv Trpbs rb TTJS TroAecos K\f)s o~v/ui(})fpov 

a.Tr6pcav ir\ridos rfyv ipr)/j.vr)v ava- Kal Trpbs rb KOivbv rb r&v iroXiriav. 

\oyiav, evravQa TrttyvKtv elvai STJUO- Hence all forms of constitution 

Kpariav, Kal e/cacrroy eTSos STJ^IO- which do not aim at the general 

Kparias [organised or lawless, welfare are resolutely regarded 

&C.] Kara r)]v inrepoxfy TOV Srj/uou as bad. 
e/caoTov [according as farmers or 3 Cf. Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 762 sq. 


itself be partial, Aristotle admits that it is true ; the lawn 
will be good or bad, just or unjust, according as the 
constitution is so, since laws everywhere correspond to 
the existing constitution. But the conclusion which 
he draws is, not that persons instead of laws should 
adjudicate, but that constitutions should be good. 1 The 
final result of all these considerations is, therefore, the 
demand for an order founded upon law, arid aiming at 
the common good of all, in which influence and privi-/ 
lege should be assigned to individuals and classes \ 
according to their importance for the life of the 

We have next to consider the case in which an 
individual or a minority possesses personal qualities so 
outstanding as wholly to outweigh all the others put 
together in ability and political importance. Would it ! 
not be unjust to place such persons on an equal footing 

1 iii. 10: In whom shall the rich or of the people] ra 

sovereignty reside 1 In the irp6repov. Nevertheless he arrives 

! masses, the rich, the best, in finally at the conclusion (1282, 

some distinguished citizen, or in b, 1) : ?; 8e irpwrf] Aexfleto-o airopia 

a tyrant ? After recounting all iroiel <pavepbi> ovSev o vrws erepov 

these different views, and dis- &s on 5e? rovs vo^ovs elvai Kvplovs 

missing the third and fourth Kei/j.evovs opdais, rbv apxo^ra Se, av 

| with the remark that in that re els av re Tr\eiovs Sxri, irepl 

case the majority of the citizens rovrw elvai KVO LOVS irepl oa-cov 

would be excluded from all po- Qativvurovviv ol VO/HOL Xeyeiv aitni- 

litical rights, Aristotle continues, /3cDs 5;a rb /J.T] paSiov elvai Ka06\ov 

1281. a, H4 : dAA urcoy (pair] Ti? SrjAwcraf irepl iravrcav. But the 

&j/ rb Kvpiov o\cas &vQpu>irov elvai character of the laws depends 

i dAAo /Aii vofjiov <pav\ov, %x ov ra 7 6 upon the constitution (iroXireia 

; ra ffvpfiaivovra irdQr] rrepl rvv in the wider sense explained p. 

! $ v X h J/ - He suggests, indeed, an 232 sq.): dAAd JU.TIV el rovro, S^Aoi/ 

j objection : &v ovv rj v6fj.os /u,ev ori rovs i*.tv Kara ras opdas TTO- 

j oXiyapxiKbs Se /) Sr]/j.oKpariKbs, ri \ireixs ava-yKalov elvai SiKaiovs, 

i SioiVet rrepl ruv r)iropr)ju.evwv ; av/j.- rovs Se Kara ras TrapeKfie&rjKvias ov 

j firjaerai yap 6/j.otws [i.e. as in the Si/ccuous. On the supremacy of law 

; case of the personal rule of the see p. 252, infra. 



i with the others, whom in every respect they so far excel ? 

/ Would it nob be as ridiculous as to ask the lion to enter 
on an alliance of equal rights with the hare ? If a 
^State will suffer no political inequality, nothing is left 
for it but to exclude from its pale members who thus 
excel the common mass. In that sense, the institution of 
the Ostracism is not without a certain justification : it 
may, under certain circumstances, be indispensable to the 
safety of the democracy. In itself, however, it is wholly 
unjust, and, as a matter of fact, was abused for party 

nds. The true solution is to reg-ard men of decisive 
u /\ Ss --> . . 

AJ\ superiority, not as mere members, but as the destined 

\ rulers of the State, not as under the law, but as them- 

A selves the law. They dwell among men like gods you 

V can as little rule over them or divide the power with 

(them as you can divide the sovereignty of Jove. Only 

We attitude is possible towards them namely, voluntary 

^/subjection. They are the natural, born kings ; l they 

iii. 13, 1284, a, . I: et 54 ris 
efs Tonovrov 8ia(pepcav KO.T 
rep^o\\v, ? !) ir\eiovs /uei/ 
evbs IJ.T] /uifVToi Svvarol vX^pufia 
irapaa x.eo Oa.t TroAecos, iixrre /x,^ ffu/u.- 
/3A77T77J/ flvai T^V r&v a\\wv dpfTriv 
TrdvTcav jinjSe TV/I/ 8vvau.iv avrwv 

T^ IV TTO\ITIK^]V TTpks T7]V 6/CetJ/a J/, t 

iows, et 8 els, ri]V tKeivov /ULOVOV, 


t(T(i)V, ai KTOL Toarovrov war 
ovres Kal r^v iroXniK^v 8vva/m.iv 
&<nrep yap Oebv eV avOpw-rrois elites 
slva.1 rbv roiovrov oOev SjjAov OTI 
Kal TT]V vofj.o6<riav avayKaiov elvai 
jrepl TOVS tcrovs Kal ry yevei Ka.1 ry 
SvvdfjLei. Kara Se rcav rotovrcav 
OVK ecrTL VO/JLOS avrol yap etVt 

v6/j.os. And then follows the dis 
cussion in the text above, after 
which Aristotle continues, 1284. 
b, 25 : dAA eVl TT}S apiffTT/js TTO- 
\iTfias ex et ToAA^i airopiav, oft 
Kara TWV a\\&i> ayadwv rr]v 
vircpox riv, OLOV iffxvos Kal TT\OVTOV 
Kal TToAi/^tA/ ay, aAA av TLS 
8ia<pepwv KO.T apTf]v. 
ov jap 8rj 0a?fi/ Uv 8e?v 
Kal [AfQuTTavai rbv TOIOVTOV. a\\a 
P.TIV ov8 apx^iv *ye TQV TOIOVTOV 
Trapair\ {)(riov yap /ecu/ ei TOV Aiks 
apx*w a^io iev, pepi^ovTes Tas apxas. 
AenreTcu rolvvv, oirep HoiKe Tre^u- 
Kevai, Trei6eo~6ai TO) ToiovT(p iravTas 
dcr/J.V(as, &(TT fiaaiXeas rfvat TOVS 
TOiovTOvs aifiiovs ev TOIS Tr6\e(Tiv. 
Similarly c. 17, ]288, a, 15 sqq. 



alone have a true and unconditional title to monarchy. 1 
Such a monarchy Aristotle calls the best of all consti 
tutions, 2 believing as he does that under it the well- 
being of the people is best secured ; for he alone is 
king in this high sense who is endowed with every 
excellence and free from every mortal defect ; nor will 
such a one seek his own advantage at the cost of his 
subjects, but, like a god, will lavish upon them benefits 
out of his own abundance. 3 In general, however, Ari- 1 
stotle is no eulogist of monarchy. The different kinds/ 
of it which he enumerates, 4 he regards as mere varieties/ 
ol two fundamental forms namely, military command 

1 Cf. iii. 17, 1281. b, 41 sqq. 

2 Etli. viii. 12, 11 GO, a, 35 : 
rovrcav 8e [of the true forms of 
constitution] ^eArio-rr/ ,ue// T) 
j8aa"tAeia x et P (7T >? 5 T] Tt/j-OKparta. 

3 Ibid, b, 2 : 6 fj.\v yap rvpavvos 
rb eauT&j (Tu/u.(pepois avcoTrel, 6 Se 
jSacnAeus rb run/ ap^ojuevccv. ov 
yap e trrr f3a<ri\evs 6 ^urj avTapKys 
Kal Tracn To7s ayaOols virzp exeats. 6 
Se TOLOVTOS ouSepby 7rpOfrSe?Tai ra 

ovv avrcp ,uei/ OVK av 

ToTs 8 a/3^o,ueVois 6 yap 
TOIOVTOS Khypcarbs &i TIS e^Tj 

Cfp. 250, n. 1, supra. 
4 In the section -jrepl /3a(ri\Las, 
which Aristotle .Inserts iii. 14-17, 
and which, as/it is closely con 
nected with /the preceding dis 
cussion, we must here notice. 
Besides true monarchy he there 
enumerates five kinds of mon 
archical rule : (1) that of the 
heroic age ; (2) that which is 
common among barbarians ; (3) 
the rule of Ime so-called J^sym- 
neta? or elective princes ; (4) 
the Spartan; (5) unlimited mon 
archy (7ra J u/3ao tA.ete, c. 16 1287 

a, 8). The first of these kinds, he 
remarks (c. 14, 1285, b, 3 sqq., 
20 sqq., a, 7, 14), was rather a 
union of certain offices, judicial, 
priestly, military ; similarly, the 
Spartan was an hereditary com 
mand. The monarchy of the 
barbarians, on the other hand, 
is an hereditary mastership 
(apx^ Sfa-TToriK^ but the govern 
ment of slaves is despotic, that 
of freemen political ; Polit. iii. 
4, 1277, a, 33, b, 7, c. 6, 1278, b, 
32, 1279, a, 8), to which, how 
ever, the subjects voluntarily 
submit, and which is limited by 
traditional usage (iii. 14, 1285, 
a, 16, b, 23). Elective monarchy 
is a dictatorship either for life 
or for a definite time or object. 
(On the cuper^/ rvpavvls v. ibid, a, 
29 sqq. b, 25.) Only in an irre 
sponsible monarchy is an indi 
vidual actually master of a whole 
people; it is a kind of magnified 
domestic rule : &<nrep yap rj OIKOVO- 
/uiiK^ /SacrtAeta TIS otKias ecr-rii/, ovr<as 
7) /3a0"iAeia TroAecos /cat edvovs evbs Y) 
o lKOVouia (iM^,b,29sqq.). 


for life and irresponsible sovereignty. The former, 
however, is applicable to the most diverse forms of 
constitution, and cannot, therefore, be the fundamental 
characteristic of any one of them. By a monarchical 
constitution, therefore, in the present inquiry, we can 
only mean irresponsible monarchy. 1 But against this 
form of government there are, according to Aristotle, 
many objections. That it may, under certain circum 
stances, be natural and justifiable he does not, indeed, 
deny. A people which is incapable of governing itself 
must needs have a governor. In such a case govern 
ment by one is just and salutary. 2 If, on the other 
hand, the case be one of a people consisting of freemen 
who stand to one another in a relation of essential 
equality, personal rule contradicts the natural law, which 
assigns equal rights to equals ; in such States the only 
just arrangement is that power should alternate ; but 
where this is the case it is law, and not the will of a 
monarch, that rules. 3 If, further, it be said that govern 
ment by the best man is better than government by 
the best laws, because the latter issue only universal 
decrees without regard to the peculiarities of particular 
cases, we must remember, in the first place, that even 
the individual must be guided by universal principles 

1 iii. 15, 1286, b, 33-1287, a, limited among some barbarian 

7, c. 16 init. peoples as tyrannical. Neverthe- 

- iii. 17 init., after stating the less it is legitimate (Kara vop.ov 

objections to monarchy Aristotle /cat Trarpt/crj) ; Sia yap TO SovXiKcb- 

continues : aAA tffcas TCWT eVt /xeV repot elVat ra ^Qt] tyvcrei oi ju.ei/ /3ap- 

TIVWV e^et rbv rpoirov rovrov, Itrl /3apoi ruiv EAAr^coi/, of Se irepl r^v 

Se rivcav oi>x ovrws. Herri yap n Atrtaj/ rwv irfpl rr)i> Evpwinqv, IITTO- 

fyvati Seo Troo Tbv Kal &AAo /3ao"tAeu- /LLtvowi rkv SfcnroriKrjv ap-^v oi5ev 

rbv Kal HAAo TroAtTt/cbi/ al St/catot/ Svffxepa wovres. Cf. p. 239, n. 1, snip. 

Kal orv[j.(ppov. c. 14, 1285, a, 19: 3 iii. 16, 1287, a, 8 sqq. cf. c. 

monarchical power is as un- 17, 1288, a, 12, c. 15, 1286, a, 36. 



of government, and that it is better that these should 
be administered in their purity than that they should 
be obscured by distorting influences. Law is free from 
such influences, whereas every human soul is exposed 
to the disturbing influence of passion ; law is reason 
without desire. Where law reigns, God reigns incarnate ; 
where the individual, the beast reigns as well. 1 If 
this advantage seerns to be again outweighed by the 
inability of law to take account of particular cases as 
the individual governor can, this is not decisive. It 
follows, indeed, from it that the constitution must 
admit of an improvement upon the laws 2 that the 
cases which the law does not take account of must be 
submitted to authoritative judges and magistrates, and 
that provision should be made by means of a special 
education for a constant supply of men, to whom these 

1 iii. 15, 1286, a, 7-20, c. 1(5, 
1287, a, 28 : 6 jjikv ovv rbv v6fjiov 
/ceAeucov ap^iv 5o/cel /ceAevtii/ 
&p%iv r bv 6ebv Kal rbv vovv JJ.OVQVS, 
6 8 av9p<Dirov Kf\evwv irpoffTiQf]<ri. 
Kal Qrjpioi . vj re yap 4itiQvjj.ia 
TOIOVTOV [perhaps better : TOLOVTOV 
bi/] Kal 6 Qv/jibs apx ovras 8ta0"rpe </>ei 
Kal TOVS apiffrovs avSpas. Sioirep 
avfv dpe^fas vovs o vo/j.os tffTiv, 
Cf. p. 248 sq. vi. 4, 1318, b, 3 C J : 
f) yap e^ovffia rov Trpdrreii o ri &</ 
e0e A?; TLS ov Svj/arai ^uAarretJ/ TO 
ej/ eKatrTw rcav avQpwirwv fyav\ov. 
Etli. v. 10, 1134, a, 35: 8i& owe 
iw/j.ev apx^w avQpwirov, dAAo rbv 
\6yov \_al. v6(ji.ov^, QTI kavrcp TOVTO 
Troie? Kal yiverai Tvpavvos. 

- Aristotle touches on this 
point, ii. 8, 1268, b, 31 sqq. He 
there says that neither the 
written nor the unwritten Jaws 
can be unchangeable. Govern 

ment, like all other arts and 
sciences, reaches perfection gra 
dually. From the earliest inhabi 
tants of a country, whether they 
be autochthonous or a remnant of 
a more ancient population, little 
insight is to be expected : it 
would be absurd, therefore, to be 
bound by their precedents; written 
laws, moreover, cannot embrace 
every individual case. Neverthe 
less great prudence is required in 
changing the laws; the authority 
of the law rests entirely on use 
and wont, and this ought not to 
be infringed unnecessarily ; men 
ought to put up with small 
anomalies rather than injure the 
authority of the law and the 
government and accustom the 
citizens to regard legislative 
changes lightly. 



functions may be entrusted ; but it does not by any 
means follow that the highest authority in the State 
should reside in an individual. On the contrary, tlie 
more undeniable it is that many are superior to on! 
that the latter is more liable to be fooled by passioi 
and corrupted by desire than a multitude, and thai 
even the monarch cannot dispense with a multitude oi 
servants and assistants, the wiser it is to commit this 
authority into the hands of the whole people and caus 
it to be exercised by them, rather than by an individual 
assuming always that the people consist of free am 
capable men. 2 Furthermore, we cannot overlook the 
fact that use and custom are more powerful than written 
laws, and that government by these at any rate has the 
advantage over government by a man, even although 
we deny this of written law. 3 A monarch, finally (and? 
this argument weighs heavily with Aristotle), will almost/ 
inevitably desire to make his sovereignty hereditary ii} 
his family ; and what guarantee have we in such a case 

1 C. 15, 12SG, a, 20-b, 1, c. 
1G, 1287, a, 20- b, 35 ; of. p. 24G, n. 
2, supra. Rliet. i. 1, 1354, a, 31 : it 
is best that as much as possible 
cases should be decided by law 
and withdrawn from judicial con 
sideration ; for (1) true insight is 
more likely to be found in the 
individual or the select few who 
make a law than in the many 
who have to apply it ; (2) laws are 
the product of mature delibera 
tion, judicial decisions of the 
moment ; (3) the most important 
consideration of all: the legis 
lator establishes universal prin 
ciples for the future, law courts 
and popular assemblies decide 

upon a special case, in which 
inclination, aversion and private 
advantage not unfrequently play 
a part. To these, therefore, we 
must leave, when possible, onh 
such questions as refer to matters 
of fact past or future. 

- Ibid. 1286, a, 35 : carca 5e rb 
Tr\TJQos oi e\evdepoi, /^Sep irapa . 
rbv VO/LWV TrpdrrovTfs, a\\ /} TTtpl 
wv fK\eiireiv avayKaiov OLVTOV. We 
are dealing with ayaOol KOI &vpes 
Kal TroAtYcu. To the further objec 
tion that in large masses factions 
commonly arise, the reply is 
made : on a-rrovScuoi ri]v 
K.a.K.t1vos 6 els. 

3 c. 10, 1287, b, 5. 


that it will not pass into the most unworthy hands, to 
the ruin of the whole people ? l On all these grounds 
Aristotle declares it to be better that the State be ruled 
by a capable body of citizens than by an individual: in 
other words, he gives aristocracy the preference over 
monarchy. 2 Only in two cases does he regard the 
latter, as we have seen, as justified : when a people stands 
so low as to be incapable of self-government, or when 
an individual stands so pre-eminently out over all others 
that they are forced to revere him as their natural 
ruler. Of the former, he could not fail to find many- 
instances in actual experience ; he himself, for instance, 
explains the Asiatic despotisms on this principle. Of 
the latter, neither his own time nor the whole history 
of his nation afforded him any example corresponding 
even remotely to the description, except that of his own 
pupil Alexander. 3 The thought naturally suggests it 
self that he had him in his mind when he describes the 
prince whose personal superiority makes him a born 
ruler. 4 Conversely, we can imagine that he used his 
ideal of the true king (if he had sketched it at so early 
a period as his residence in Macedonia 5 ) as a means of 
directing to beneficial ends a power which would endure 

1 c. 15, 1286, b, 22. haps have been mentioned along- 

- c. 15, 1286, b, 3: e< STJ T^V side of him; he was, however, 

lv TUV TrAetoVojj/ apxw ayatiui/ not a monarch, but a popular 

8 ai>$pai> TrdvTwv apiffroKpariav leader, and in Polit. ii. 12, 1274, 

tfereov, TTJI/ Se rov tvbs fia<ri\eiai>, a, o sqq. is treated merely as a 

alpeT(arpoi ai> eft} -noXtaiv apiffro- demagogue. 

Kparia Paffi\eias. Accordingly 4 See ONCKEN, Staat&l. d. 

early monarchies have changed Arist. ii. 268 sq. 

into republics as the number of 5 He dedicated a treatise to 

capable people in the cities has Alexander wtpl &aai\eias ; see p. 

increased. 60, n. 1. 
3 Pericles alone might per- 



no opposition and no limitation, and of saying to a 
prince whose egotism would admit no title by the side 
of his own that absolute monarchy can only be merited 
by an equally absolute moral greatness. These specula 
tions, however, are delusive. Aristotle himself remarks 
that no one any longer exists so far superior to all 
others as the true king must needs be. 1 Moreover, 
throughout the Politics he accepts the presuppositions 
of Greek national and political life, and it is not 
likely that in his theory of monarchy he should have 
had the Macedonian Empire, whose origin, like that ot 
other peoples, he elsewhere traces to definite historical 
sources, 2 present to his thought. 3 It is better to explain 

1 v. 10, 1313, a, 3: ov yiyvov- 
TCU 8 en /3a<riAeTa: i/uj/, aAA. 
yiyiHavrai, /j-ovapx^t Kal 
/j.a\\ov, 5ia rb rrjv /JacriAetav e/cou- 
ffiov /uev apxTlv elVcu, pei^ovuv 8e 
Kvpiav, TroAA.oi/9 8 elj/at rovs 6yti- 
oious, /cat /iTjSei/a 5ia(ppovTa 
roffovrov oScrre airapri^eiv 
irpbs rb /j-fyedos Ka\ rb a 1 1 - 
a>|U,a TTJS apxys- o&o"T6 Sta /u.ei/ 
roiro eK^res ov^ dirofj.evovo iv 
&j/ 8e Si aTraTTjs &pp TIS $i jSias, 
^8?] So/cel TOVTO slvai rvpavvls. 
This does not, indeed, primnrily 
refer to the appearance in a state 
previously monarchical of a 
prince whose personality corre 
sponds to that of the ideal king, 
but to the introduction of mon 
archy in states which hitherto 
have had another form of consti 
tution ; the words /urjSeW . . . dpxvs 
seem, however, to show that 
Aristotle in depicting the true 
king was not thinking of contem 
porary examples. Had he desired 
historical illustrations he would 
have preferred to look for them in 

mythical times perhaps in a 
Theseus seeing that in iii. 15, 
1286, a, 8 he supposes that mon 
archy is the oldest form of con 
stitution, perhaps because the 
few capable people in antiquity 
stood more prominently out 
above the common man than in 
later times. 

2 Polit. v. 10, 1310, b, 39, 
where the Macedonian kings are 
mentioned along with the Spartan 
and Molossian as owing their 
position to their services as 
founders of states. 

3 Even although the passage 
vii. 7 (see infra) were taken to 
mean that the Greek nation now 
that it has become politically 
united (strictly speaking it had 
not received /j.iav iro\iTeiav even 
from Philip and Alexander) is 
able to rule the world, and not 
merely that it would be able to 
rule the world if it were politi 
cally united, it could not be 
quoted in proof of the view that 
Aristotle (as OXCKEN, Staatsl. d. 


his views on this subject upon purely scientific principles. 
Among the different possible cases in which virtue may 
be the basis of political life, he had to take account of 
that in which the virtue resides primarily in the prince, 
and in which his spirit, passing into the community, 
confers upon it that prowess which he himself possesses. 
It would certainly not be difficult to prove from Ari- 
stotle s own statements about the weakness of hurnaV 
nature and the defects of absolute monarchy that sucll\ 
a case can never actually occur, that even the greates \ \| 
and ablest man differs from a god, and that no persona 
greatness in a ruler can compensate for the legally! 
organised co-operation of a free people, or can constittot 
a claim to unlimited command over free men. 
mined, however, though Aristotle usually is in his hos 
tility to all false idealism, and careful though he is 
the Politics to keep clearly in view the conditions 
I reality, he has here been unable wholly to rid hi 
of idealistic bias. He admits that the advent of 
who has a natural claim to sole supremacy is a 
exception ; but he does not regard it as an impossibility , 
and accordingly considers it his duty not to overlookrA 
this case in the development of his theory. 1 \ 

After thus discussing the principles of his division \ 
of states into their various kinds, Aristotle next/^ 
proceeds to investigate the separate forms themselves! I 
beginning with the best, and passing from it to they 

Arist. i. 21, supposes) saw in its HENKEL, StudienJ&cc., p. 97. 
unity under the Macedonian * SUSEMIHL, Jakresber. uber 

sway the fulfilment of his class. Alterthvm87& .,,187&,p.ilTf, 

people s destiny. Cf . SUSEMIHL, takes the same view. 
Jahrb. /. Philol. ciii. 134 sq. 




less perfect examples. The examination of the Best 
State/ however, as already observed, is incomplete. 
We must therefore be content to notice the section of 
it which we have before us. 

5. The Best State l 

For a perfect society certain natural conditions are 
in the first place necessary ; for just as each art requires 
a suitable material to work upon, so also does political 
science. A community cannot, any more than an indi 
vidual, dispense with external equipment as the con 
dition of complete happiness. 2 A State, in the first 

1 It has been frequently 
denied that Aristotle intended to 
depict an Ideal State (see HIL- 
DENBRAXD, ibid. p. 427 sqq. 
HBNKEL, ibid. 74) ; his own 
declarations, however, as is 
gradually coming to be generally 
admitted, leave no doubt on this 
head. Cf. e.g. iii. 18 Jin. vii. 1 
init. c. 2, 1324, a, 18, 23, c. 4 c. 9, 1328, b, 33, c. 13 init. 
c.*15 init. iv. 2, 1289, a, 30. The 
subject of the discussion in Polit. 
vii. and viii. is described by all 
these passages without exception 
as the apiffrr] TroArreia, the TTO\IS 
fjifXXova a. /car fvx^v ffvvfffravai. 
and Aristotle expressly says that 
in depicting such a State many 
assumptions must be made, but 
these ought not to transcend the 
limits of possibility. This, how 
ever, is precisely what Plato also 
had asserted of the presupposi 
tions of his ideal state (Rep. v. 
473, c. vi. 499 c, D,502 c ; see Ph. 
d. Gr. i. p. 776), and so small is the 
difference in this respect between 

them that, while Plato declares 
JJ.T] Tvavra-rraffiv -TJ/J.O.S ei>xs elprjK 
a\\a xa\ira fj.v Swara 8e TTTJ 
(Rep. vii, 540 D), Aristotle says, 
conversely (vii. 4, 1325, b, " 
and almost in the same words 
ii. 6, 1265, a,17): 8el iroAAa 7rpoi)TO- 
Te0e7<r0cu Kaddirtp 

/JLfVTOl fJit]QeV TOVT03V 

Aristotle certainly declares the 
most peculiar of Plato s propo 
sals to be unsuitable and im 
practicable ; he is moreover not 
so entranced with his Ideal State 
as to deny, as Plato does, to any 
other the name of State and to 
permit to the philosopher alone 
a share in its administration ; he 
demands of political science that 
it should study also the less 
perfect conditions of actuality 
and ascertain what is best in the 
circumstances ; but at the same 
time he doubted as little as Plato 
that Politics ought also to sketch 
the ideal of a perfect State. 
2 Polit. vii. 4 init. 



place, must be neither_too small nor too great : since if 
it is too small it will lack independence ; if too great, 
unity. The true measure of its proportions is that the 
number of the citizens should, on the 


> and, on the other, be sufficiently within .a 
compass to keep the individual members intimately 
acquainted with one another and with the government, 1 
Aristotle further desires a fruitful country of sufficient 
extent, which itself ^supplies all the necessities of life 
without leading to luxury, an J^hicTils~"easily defended 
and suitable for purposes of commerce. In this last 
respect he defends, as against Plato, 2 a maritime situa 
tion, prescribing at the same time means of avoiding 
the inconveniences which it may bring with it, 3 More 
important still, however, is the natural character of the 
people. A healthy community can only exist where 
the people combine the complementary qualities of 
spirit and intellect. /^Aristotle agrees with Plato in 
holding that this is so among the Greeks alone. The 
Northern barbarians, on the other hand, with their un- 

1 JUd. 1320, b, 5 sqq. where iroXvdvOpu-n-os. Cf Etli ix 10 

at f the end Aristotle says : 5r)\ov 1170, b, 31: ore 7^ e /c 6 ,fa 

TOivvv us ovr6s eVri Tro Aecos opos avQp^Trtav yewr fa Tr6\is OVT eV 

ZpiffTOs^r, ^yiarr, rov ir^Oous Se /ca /nvpidSw fri TTO AZS eVr/^-we 

yTre^oAT? Trpbs avrdpKfiau fays shall not consider the latter too 

et^oTTTos. At the same time he low an estimate if we have in 

maintains that the general cri- view the Greek states in which 

tenon of the size of a state is, all full citizens share directly in 

not the TrATjflos, but the 8tW/m of the government (cf. Polit ibid 

its population, that the greatest 1326, b, 6) 

is that ^ which is best capable of * Lams, iv. ; this passage 

answering the peculiar ends of is, undoubtedly present to Ari 

the state, and that accordingly stotle s mind, although he makes 

we have to take into account the no mention either of it or of its 

number, not of the population, author. 
but of^ the citizens proper : ou 3 Polit. vii. 5. 

yap ravTbv ^670X77 re ir6\is Kal 

s 2 


tamed spirit, may attain to freedom, but not to political 
existence ; while the Asiatics, with all their art and 
talent, are cowards, and destined by nature to be 
slaves. 1 The Greeks alone are capable of political 
activity, for they alone are endowed with that sense 
of moral proportion which fortifies them on all sides 
from extremes of excess or defect. 7 The conditions of 
all civil and moral life Aristotle, in a, true Greek spirit, 
finds to exist only in his own people. Here, also, where 
it is more justifiable in view of the intellectual state of 
the world at that time, we have the same national pride 
which has already presented itself in a more repulsive 
aspect in the discussion upon Slavery. 

So far we have spoken only of such things as depend 
upon chance^ The most important of all, however, and 
that which constitutes the essential element in the 
happiness of the state, is the virtue of the citizens, 
which is no longer a matter of chance, but of free will 
and insight. 2 Here, therefore, we must call upon 
political science to be our guide. In the first place 
we shall have to determine by its aid how best to take 
advantage of the external circumstances. Under this 
head comes all that Aristotle says of the division of the 

land and of the site and structure of the city. With 

1 Pollt vii 7 where he says of of which passages Aristotle him- 

the Greeks (1327, b, 29) : rb p self refers. 

r&v E\\fauv ywos Ampiufftfa " Polit. . vii. 13, 1332, a, 29: 

Karct robs TOTTOUS, oSirws fyQoiv Sii /car eu X V M/** ^ v ** 

uerevet K ai -yap tvQvpov ai 5ia- W\ea>s (riffraff w, d>v T? 

vo-nrw&v eVrn/, Sichrep t\eM*p&v re Kvplav yap airV Mfj 

5 t aT6Ae7 K al fu&iffra TroKirw^vov rb fc mriato ^ 

Ka \ tvv^vov &PX*" ^"" ^ S ^ ri ***?* W", 

rvvxdvov TroAtre/as (on which see KOL Trpoatpeo-ews. Cf. C. 1, 1323, 

p. 256, n. 1) ; cf . PLATO, Rep. iv. 13, and the whole chapter. 
435 B, ii. 374 E sqq. to the latter 


reference to the first of these he proposes 1 that a portion 
of the whole territory be set apart as state property, 
from the produce of which the cost of religious services 
and public banquets may be defrayed, and that of what 
remains each citizen should receive two portions, one in 
the neighbourhood of the city, another towards the 
boundary of its territory. 2 He requires for the city not 
only a healthy site and suitable plan of structure, but 
also fortifications, deprecating upon valid grounds 3 the 
contempt with which Plato 4 and the Spartans regarded 
the latter. Of much greater importance, however, are 
the means that must be adopted to secure the personal 
capacity of the citizens. These will not in the most 
perfect sort of state consist merely in educating men 
with a view to a particular form of constitution and to 
their own particular aims, nor again in making them 
efficient as a community, although imperfect as indivi 
duals ; on the contrary, since the virtue of citizens here 
coincides with the virtue of man universally, care must 
betaken to make each and every citizen a capable man, 
and to fit all for taking part in the government of the 
state. 5 But for this end three things are necessary. 
The ultimate aim of human existence is the education 
of the reason. 6 As the higher is always preceded by 
the lower, the end by the means, in the order of time, 7 
so the education of the reason must be preceded by 

1 Ibid. c. 10, 1329, b, 3(5 sqq. 4 Lans, vi. 778 D sq. 

- There is a similar plan in 3 See vol. ii. p. 209, n. 2, SHJ}. 

PLATO, Laws, 745 C sqq.; Aristotle, 6 Cf. p. 142 sq. and Polit. vii. 

however, in Polit. ii. 6, 1265, b, 15, 1334, b. 14 : 6 Se \6yos rjfuv 

24, considers Plato s arrangement, /col 6 vovs rrjs ^vcrecas re Aos. cSo-re 

merely on account of a trifling -rrpbs TOVTOVS T\\V yevfviv teal r^v 

difference, highly objectionable. rwv eflcii/ 5e? irapaaK^vd^iv ^eAerrji/. 

3 Polit. vii. 11, 12. 7 Cf. vol. ii. p. 28, n. 3, supra. 


that of the irrational element of the soul namely, 
desire and the training of desire by that of the body. 
We must therefore have first a physical, secondly a 
moral, and lastly a philosophic training ; and just as the 
nurture of the body must subserve the soul, so must the 
education of the appetitive part subserve the reason. U 

A Aristotle, like Plato, demands that state interference 
with the life of the individual should begin much earlier 
than is customary in our days, and that it should regu 
late even the procreation of children. He does not, in 
deed, as has been already shown, 2 go so far as to make 
this act the mere fulfilment of official orders, as Plato 
had done in the Republic. Nevertheless he also would 
have laws to regulate the age at which marriage should 
take place and children be begotten, 3 careful regard 
being paid to the consequences involved not only to the 
children in relation to their parents, but to the parents 
in relation to one another. The law must even determine 
at what season of the year and during what winds pro 
creation may take place. It must prescribe the proper 
course of treatment for pregnant women, procure the ex 
posure of deformed children, and regulate the number of 
births. For those children who are superfluous, or whose 
parents are either too young or too old, Aristotle, sharing 

1 Polit. vii. 15,1334, b, 20: and desire, ?>. vol. ii. pp. 112 sq., 

w<T7rep Se TO (Tu/jiaTrpoTfpov rfj y*v4- 155 sq. supra. \supra. 

ffei TTJS tyvx^s, OI/ TCO Ko.1 rb &\oyov ~ In the section on the Family, 

rov \6yov ex OJ/TOS . 5ib irpwrov 3 Marriage ought to take place 

ei rov ffu/j.aros TTJI/ TTi/jLf\ftav with men about the age of 

Trpirepav civai 3) T?V TT)S thirty-seven, with women about 

TreiTa TT}V TTJS ope |ea>s, eighteen ; procreation ought not 

rov vov TT> TTJS to be continued beyond the fifty- 

T}?I/ Se rov ffw/j-aros rys fourth or fifty-fifth year of a 

Of . viii. 3 ^w. On reason man s age. 



as he does the indifference of ancients in general as 
to such immoral practices, roundly recommends abor 
tion, justifying it on the ground that what has as 
yet no life, has no rights. l ^ From the control of pro 
creation Aristotle passes to education, which he regards 
as beginning with the first moment of life, and extend 
ing to the last. 2 From the earliest years of its life care 
must be taken to secure for the child, not only suitable 
exercise and physical training, but also games and 
stories as a preparation for its moral education. Chil 
dren must be left as little as possible to the society of 
slaves, and kept altogether out of the way of improper 
conversation and pictures, which, indeed, ought not to 
be tolerated at all. 3 Their public education begins at 
the age of seven, and lasts till twenty-one. 4 Aristotle 
founds his argument in favour of state-regulated educa 
tion upon its importance for the communal life, for it is 
the moral quality of the citizens which supports the 
fabric and determines the character of the common 
wealth ; and if a man would practise virtue in the state, 
he must begin early to acquire it. 5 As in the best 
state all must be equally capable, as the whole state 
has one common object in view, and as no man belongs 
to himself, but all belong to the state, this education 

1 All this is treated of in Ibid. 1336, b, 35 sqq. 
Polit. vii. 10. :> Polit. viii. I init. t where 

2 With what follows cf. LEF- inter alia : rb yap ^dos rrjs iro\i- 
MANN,Z)e Arist. Sow. Edvcatione reias e/caoTTjs rb olKtiov Kal (pv\dr- 
Princ. Berl. 1864; BlEHL, Die reiv tfcofle rrjv iroXirfiav Kal Kad- 
ErzichwH/slelire d. Arist. Gymn.- Lar^cnv ef apx?!*, olov rb /> Srj/no- 
Progr. Innsbruck, 1877. For KpariKbv Sti^oKpartav, rb 5 d\iy- 
other literature on the subject, apxixbv bXiyapxiav atl Se rb 
see UEBERWEG. Hist, of Phil. fieXnffrov tfQos fie\riovos atnov 
vol. i. p. 172 Eng. Tr. TroAn-e/as. Cf. v. 9, 1310, a, 12, 

3 vii. 17. and vol. ii. p. 209, n. 2, 



must be wholly in common and must be regulated 
in every detail with a view to the wants of the whole. 1 
Its one object, therefore, must be to train up men who 
shall know how to practise the virtue of freemen. 
The same principle will determine the subjects of in 
struction and the method of their treatment. Thus 
of the arts which serve the wants of life, the future 
citizens shall learn only those which are worthy of a 
free man, and which vulgarise neither mind nor body, 2 
such as reading, writing, and drawing, the last of which, 
besides its practical utility, possesses the higher merit 
of training the eye for the study of physical beauty. 3 
But even among those arts which belong to a liberal 
education in the stricter sense, there is an essential 
difference between those which we learn for the sake of 
their practical application and those which we learn for 

1 Ibid. 1337, a, 21 sqq. ; of. 
p. 209. n. 2. Aristotle recognises, 
indeed (Eth. x. 10, 1180, b, 7), 
that private education may be able 
more readily to adapt itself to the 
needs of the pupil, but replies that 
public education does not neces 
sarily neglect these, provided that 
it is entrusted to the proper hands. 

2 viii. 2, 1337, b, 4 : on n^v 

ovv TO. avayKcua SeT St 
ra>v xP f ) (J l l jLWV i OVK &S^\ov on 8e 
ov irdvra, 8ir]priiJ.tvci)V r&v re f\fv- 
Qepcav tpywv Kai r&v it,ve\fv6fpcav, 
on r&v rotovrcav Se? /uer- 

fidvavcrov. /3dvav(Tov 
flvai $? rovro vo^i^fiv Ka\ 



irpbs ras xP^ ffls Ka ^ T " s 
ras rris aperrjs &xP r > ffrov 

r\\v tywxfyv fy rfyv Sidvoiav. Ari 
stotle agrees with Plato (cf. Ph. d. 

Or. i. p. 754) in regarding this 
as the effect of trades (/J.iff8apvi- 
Kal epyaariai) generally ; they leave 
th ought unexercised and generate 
low views. These, however, are 
to be found even with the higher 
activities (music, gymnastics, 
&c.) if these are pursued in a one 
sided way as a vocation. There 
are many things, finally, that a 
man may do for himself or a 
friend, or for some good purpose, 
but not in the service of 

3 viii. 3, 1337, b, 23, 1338, a, 
13 sqq. Ibid. 1. 37 : among the 
useful arts are many which must 
be learned, not merely for the 
sake of their utility, but also as 
aids to further culture. Such are 
ypa/LL/u-ariKh and ypcKpucf]. The chief 
value of the latter is on 
QtcapTinKbv rov TTpl ra 


their own sake. The former have their end outside of 
themselves in something attained by their means, while 
tiie latter find it within themselves, in the high and 
satisfying activities which their own exercise affords. 
That the latter are the higher, that they are the only 
truly liberal arts, hardly requires proof in Aristotle s 
view. 1 As, moreover, of the two chief branches of 
education among the Greeks music and gymnastics 
the latter is practised more as an aid to soldierly 
efficiency, while the former directly ministers to mental 
culture, it is not wonderful that he should disapprove 
of that one-sided preference for physical training which 
was the basis of the Spartan system of education. He 
remarks that where physical exercise and endurance are 
made so exclusively an object, a ferocity is produced 
which differs widely from true bravery ; nor do these 
means suffice for the attainment even of the object 
sought viz. superiority in war: for since Sparta had 

1 Besides what is said sup. ii. in itself an end but only a means 

p. 141 sqq., on the superiority of of recreation, and accordingly 

theory to practice, and, p. 209 sq., more necessary in oo-xoAto than 

on peaceful and warlike avoca- in o^oA??. The latter consists in 

tions,cf. on this head vii. 14,1333, the attainment of the end, and 

a, 35 : [ay 07/07] Tr6\jj.ov fj.fv elp-f]vns therefore results immediately in 

Xfyw, aarxoXiav Se <rxoA7js, ra 5 pleasure and happiness; the for- 

avayKaia Kal xpfaw* TUIV KaXwv mer is effort after an end which 

tVe/cei/. Similarly c. 15, 1334, a, is not yet attained. Sxrre (pavepbv 

14, viii. 3, 1337, b, 28 (on music): on SeT Kal Trpbs rrjv eV TIJ Siaywyfi 

vvv yap ws rjSovTJs x^P tv Oi ffxoX^v uavOdi/eiv OTTO Kal TTCU- 

7rAe?(rTOi /uzrexovo iv avrrjs ol 8 e 8eue(T0at, Kal ravra /uev TO TTOI- 

tra^av tv TrotSem, Sia rb rrjv SCU/XOTO Kal ravras ras fAuQiiaeis 

ai/r^v frrfilv . . . /j.r) /J.OVQV eauTaJv elj/ai X"-P IV > ras ^* irpbs T^\V 

opOcos aAAa /col <r%oAaea/ dcr^oAio^ us avayKatas Kal X<*-P IV 

dvva(r6ai /coAws . . . el yap a^^xa aAAwi/. ... on fjifv TO IVVV ecrrl 

,uei/ Se?, 8e alperbv rb TrcuSeia TIS fyv oi>x &s xp7j<rtyurji/ 

ffxoXa.tiv rrjs aaxoXias, Kal ftXcos TraiSeuTe ov rovs utets owS ws 

^r]Tr]Tov TI iroiovvras 5e? (rxoXa.^iv. avayKaiav, aA\ J us fXevQspiov Kal 

Mere amusement TroiSto is not /caAV, aveov taTiv. 



ceased to have a monopoly of gymnastic training, she 
had lost her superiority over other states. Aristotle 
desires, therefore, to see gymnastics duly subordinated 
to the true end of all education, and to prevent the 
more exhausting exercises from being practised before 
the body has acquired sufficient strength and the mind 
has received a counterbalancing bias from other studies. 1 
Turning to music, by which Aristotle means in the 
first instance music in the narrower sense of the word, 
in which it does not include poetry, 2 we have to distin 
guish between several uses to which it may be put. 3 
It serves for purposes of pleasure and of moral educa 
tion ; it soothes the spirit, 4 and furnishes an enjoyable 
occupation. 5 In the education of youth, however, its 
ethical effect is the main thing. The young are too 

1 viii. 4, especially 1338, b, 
17 : o&Ve yap ev Toils &\\ois fyois 
OUT eirl roov tOvwv 6pw/uLfV T)JV 
avSpiav aKo\ov6ovffav rols aypiw- 

repois Kal \Ovr6Seffiv tfdeffiv . 
w(TTe rl) Ka\bv aAA ou TO 
5e? irpuTayfavKTTtiv ou yap \VKOS 
ou5e TU>V &\Acov Qiqpiwv TL ayoovi- 
(rairo &i/ ovOeva Ka\bv KivSvvov, 
a\\a /j.a\\ov avfyp ayados. ol Se 
\iav fls ravra avevrss rovs TralSas, 
Kal rcai/ avayKaiwv aTraiSayayfiTovs 
TroLTja-avres, fiavavaovs Karpyd^ov- 
rat Kara ye TO a\7}0es, Trpbs <iv re 
jj.6vov tpyov Trj iroXniKy wnffifjiovs 
TTOi^ffavres, KOL Trpbs TOUTO x e ^P ov i 
&s fyyffiv 6 \6yos, krepwv. 

2 PLATO, on the other hand, 
in the section of the Rep. upon 
musical education, deals chiefly 
with poetry-its form and content, 
bee Ph. d. Gr. i. pp. 773, 779 sq. 

3 Polit.T\\\. 5, 1839, b, 11, c 

7, 1341, b, 36. 

4 By the KaOapffis which is 
effected, not only by sacred music 
(/ie A.77 eopyidovTa), but by all 
music ; Polit. viii. 1342, a, 4 sqq. 
For the fuller discussion of 

, see ch. xv. infra. 
Aiaywyf). By this word Ari 
stotle means generally an activity 
which has its end in itself, and 
is therefore necessarily accom 
panied by pleasure, like every 
activity which is complete in it 
self (seep. 146 sq. $?(/>.). He there 
fore makes a distinction between 
those arts which serve human 
need and those which serve 
Siaywyri (Metapli. i. 1 sq. 981, b, 
17, 982, b, 22), comprehending 
under the latter all kinds of 
enjoyment, both nobler and 
humbler. In this wider sense, 
mere amusements can be classed 
as Siaywyr) (as in Etli. iv. 14 init. 


immature to practise it as an independent occupation. 1 
It is well adapted, indeed, for amusement and recrea 
tion, since it affords innocent pleasure ; but pleasure 
may not be made an end in learning, and to limit 
music to this would be to assign too low a place to it. 2 
All the more important, on the other hand, is its in 
fluence upon character. Music more than any other 
art represents moral states and qualities : anger, gen 
tleness, bravery, modesty, and every variety of virtue, 
vice and passion find here their expression. This repre 
sentation awakens kindred feelings in the souls of the 
hearers. 3 We accustom ourselves to be pleased or 
pained by certain things, and the feelings which we 
have accustomed ourselves to entertain towards the 
imitation we are likely to entertain also towards the 
reality in life. But virtue consists just in this : in 
feeling pleasure in what is good, pain in what is bad. 
Music, therefore, is one of the most important means of 
education, all the more so because its effect upon the 

x. 6, 1176, b, 12 sqq.; Pollt. viii. b, 40, he distinguishes the appli- 

5, 1839, b, 22). In the narrower cation of music to purposes of 

sense, however, Aristotle uses TraiSia and avdirava-is from that 

this expression for the higher irpbs StcryoryV Kal Trpbs (ppovrjeiv, 

activities of the kind indicated saying (1339, b, 17) of the latter 

(Siaywy)) eAeu0e pioy, Polit. viii. 5, 1 hat rb Ka\ov and f?5o^ are united 

1339,b, 5). Accordingly he calls, in it. Of. BONITZ, Arist. Metapli. 

Etli. ix. 11, 1171, b, 12, the ii. 45; Ind. Ar. 178, a, 33; 

society of friends, or Mctapli. xii. SCHWEGLER, Arist. Metapli. iii. 

7 (p. 398, n. 5, supra"), Etli. x. 7, 19 sq. 

1177, a, 25, the active thought of viii. 5, 1339, a, 29: they 

the divine and the human spirit have no claim to Siaywyr) : ovOevl 

Siaywy)). In Polit. vii. 15, 1334, a, yap dreAc? TrpovfjKti reAos. 

16, in the discussion touched - Ibid. 1339, a, 26-41, b, 14- 

upon on p. 209 sq., he mentions 31, 42 sqq. 

<TXOA^ and Staywyt) together, and 3 a.Kpowp.voi T&V /j.i/u.-fj(rwt> yiy- 

in the passage before us, c. 5, vovrai 

1339, a, 25, 29, b, 13, c. 7, 1341, 


young is in no small degree strengthened by the plea 
sure that accompanies it. 1 These considerations de 
termine the rules which Aristotle lays down for musical 
instruction. It cannot, indeed, be separated from actual 
practice, without which no true understanding of music 
can be arrived at ; but since the aim of musical educa 
tion is not the practice of the art itself, but only the 
cultivation of the musical taste, the former must be 
confined to the period of apprenticeship, seeing that it 
does not become a man to be a musician. Even in the 
case of children the line must not be crossed which separ 
ates the connoisseur from the professional artist. 2 To 
the latter, music is a trade which ministers to the taste 
of the uneducated masses ; so it is the occupation of an 
artisan, enfeebling to the body and degrading to the 
mind. To the freeman, on the other hand, it is a means 
of culture and education. 3 The choice of the instru 
ments and melodies to be used for purposes of instruc 
tion will be made with this end in view. Besides, how 
ever, the quiet and simple music which alone he would 
permit his citizens to practise, Aristotle authorises for 
public occasions a more exciting and artificial style, 
which may be either earnest and purifying for those 
who have received a liberal education, or of a less chaste 
description for the recreation of the lower classes and 
slaves. 4 

1 Ibid, 1339, a, 21 sqq. 1310, $e TOOV a-ywvuv els rrjv iraiSfiav. c. 
a, 7-b, 19. 6, 1341, a, 10. 

2 Aristotle deprecates in gen- 3 viii. 6, 1340, b-20, 1341, 
eral education TO. nphs robs a, 17, 1341, b, 8-18, c. 5, 1339, b, 
ayuvas TOVS Te^i/iKcus crvvTc vovra, 8. 

TO. 9av/j.d(Tia Kal Treptrra TOJV ipywj/, l Ibid. C. 6, 134.1, a-b, 8, C. 7. 

& vvv eATjAuflej/ fls TOVS ayuvas, e/c 


With these remarks the Politics ends, leaving even 
the discussion of music unfinished. 1 It is inconceivable, 
however, that Aristotle intended to conclude here his 
treatise upon education. With so keen a sense of the 
importance of music as an element in education, and 
with Plato s example before him, it is impossible that 
he should have overlooked that of poetry ; and, indeed, 
he betrays his intention of discussing it in his proposal 
to treat subsequently of comedy. 2 It is also most 
improbable that a man like Aristotle, who regarded the 
scientific activity as the highest of all, and as the most 
essential element in happiness, and who considered 
political science of such vital importance as an element 
in social life, 3 should have passed over in silence the whole 
subject of scientific training. 4 Nor could he have desired 
to entrust it to private effort, for he says that the whole of 
education must be public. Aristotle himself repeatedly 
indicates that after ethical, he intends to discuss intel 
lectual culture. 5 He promises, moreover, to return to 

1 For after viii. 7 init. we therefore be the goal and one of 
should have had a discussion of the most essential elements of 
rhythm ; cf . HILDENBRAND, ibid, education in the best state. 

p. 453 (as opposed to NICKES, 5 Polit. vii. 15, 1334, b, 8: 

De Arist. Polit. Libr. p. 93). Xonrhv 5e 0ecop}(Tai irorepov irai- 

2 vii. 17, 1336, b, 20 : rovs 5e Seureot T< \6ycf> irpArepov % ro7s 
vewTfpovs OUT IdfJificav ovre KCD/J.^- eOeffiv. ravra yap 8eT irpbs #AA7jA.a 
Sia? 0earas i/OjU00eT7jTeov . . . ffvfj.cpwve ii ffv^caviav T^V apiffr^v. 
vcrrepov 8 firiffT-hcravTas 5e? Siopiffai The answer is, that moral educu- 
fj.a\\ov. tion must precede (see p. 261, 

3 See Etli. x. 10, 1180, a, 32, supra); by which it is implied 
b, 20 sqq. that a section on scientific edu- 

4 It is the question of the cation will follow. Several ^de- 
education of the citizens that partments are spoken of, viii. 3, 
leads to the statement, Polit. vii. 1338, a, 30 sqq., as belonging to 
14, 1333, b, 16 sqq., that theoretic a liberal education, and it is pre- 
activity is the highest and the scribed, viii. 4, 1339, a, 4, that 
aim of all the others. It must after entering upon manhood 



the life of the family and to female education (to which 
he attaches the greatest importance, and the neglect 
of which he severely censures), and to discuss these at 
greater length in connection with the various forms of 
constitution ; l in the text, however, as we have it, this 
promise is not fulfilled. 2 He further speaks of punish 
ment as a means of education, 3 and we should accord- 

young people should receive 
preliminary instruction for the 
space of three years in the other 
departments (/j.aQy/j.aTa ) before 
the more exhausting exercise in 
gymnastics begins, as the two are 
incompatible physical exhaus 
tion being inimical to thought 

(StdVoia) so that a place should 

here be assigned to the discussion 
of scientific instruction. 

1 Pollt. i. 13, 1260, b, 8 : ^ -xepl 
5e aj/8pbs Kal yvvaiK^s KOI TfKV<av 
Ka\ TraTpbs, TTJS re -rrepl e/cacrToi/ 
avTuv dpeTTjs, Kal TTJS Trpbs <T(pas 
avTovs 6>tAtas, ri rb /caAais Kal prj 
/caAws ea-rl, Kal TTWS Set TO ^er e(5 
StcaKfiv TO 8e KaK&s (pevyeiv, eV Tots 
irepl Tas TToArrems avayKalov eVeA- 
Qiiv eVel 70/5 ot/aa i*fv iraffa ,ue pos 
iro Aecos, ravra 8 ot/cfas, T^V 8e TOU 
juepous ?rpbs rrjv TOV o\ov Set 
jSAeVetv apfTTiv, avajKaiov trpbs TV 
Tro\iTfiav fiXf-rrovras ircuSeuei*/ Kal 
TOVS TraiSas Kal ras yvvawas, efafp 
TI Sia(ppei Trpbs Tb T^V TTO\IV elz/ai 
ffirovSaiav Kal TOVS TraiSas c?vai 
<T7TOu5a/ous Kal ras yvvalKas ffirov- 
Saias. avayKalov Se Hiatytpfiv at 
yuey yap yvva^Kes ^ifJ.icrv fj-zpos T&V 
e\eu0epajv, K 5e ruv iraiSwv ol 
Koivwvol yivovrai T^S TroArreias. 
Cf. ii. 9, 1269, b, 17: eV So-ats 
TToAtTeiais <pav\ws e%et Tb irepl Tas 
yvvalKas, Tb rj^to"u T^S 
eli/at 8e? vo/jLifci 
BRANDIS, ii. b, 1673, A, 769. 

2 For we cannot regard the 
occasional allusions which we 
find in ii. 6, 7, 9 as such a fulfil 

3 The measure of punishment 
has already been found (see end of 
last chap.) in the principle of 
corrective justice, according to 
which each must suffer loss in 
proportion to the advantage 
which he has unjustly usurped. 
The aim of punishment, on the 
other hand, according to Ari 
stotle, who here agrees with Plato 
( Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 744) is chiefly to 
improve the culprit and deter 
him from further wrong-doing, 
but partly also, in so far as he is 
himself incurable, to protect 
society against him. Cf. Rliet. 
i. 10, 1269, b, 12: Sta^e pet 5e 
TifJ-upia Kal Kd Aao ts r) fj.ev yap 
/co Aao is TOU TrdcrxovTos eVe/ca tanv, 
f) 5e ri/nupia TOV TTOIOVVTOS, tva 
cbroTrArjpcoflT;. Etli. ii. 2 ; see p. 157, 
n. 5, sup. Ibid. x. 10, 1179, b, 28 : 
he who lives by passion cannot be 
improved by mere exhortation ; 
#Aws T ou So/ceT Xoy<p virtiKfiv Tb 
Traflos aAAa )8/a. Ibid. 1 180, a, 4 (of. 
p. 271 , n. 4, infra} : the better kind 
of men, say some [i.e. Plato but 
Aristotle himself is clearly of the 
same opinion], must be admon 
ished, amfiQovffi 5e Kal a<pv(TTfpois 
olffi /coAdVets TC Kal Tt/J.(ap as eVt- 

t, TOVS 8 avidrovs o\a>s e- 


ingly have expected a full discussion of its aims and 
application, with at least a sketch of the outlines of a 
system of penal justice ; but in the Politics, as we have it, 
this subject is not touched upon. Similarly, questions of 
public economy, 1 of the treatment of slaves, 2 and of drink 
ing habits, 3 though proposed for discussion, are left 
untouched; and generally it may be said the whole 
question of the regulation of the life of adult citizens is 
passed over in silence, although it is impossible to doubt 
that Aristotle regarded this as one of the chief problems 
of political science, and that, like Plato, he intended 
that education should be continued as a principle of moral 
guidance throughout the whole of life. 4 The same is 
true, as already remarked, of the whole question of 
legislation : if the Politics gives us little light on this 

opi&iv rbi> fj.v yap e7ne</o? Kal Of. HlLDEN BRAND, ibid. 299 sqq. 
>VTa TC \6ycp TrziQ- l irpl KTTjcrecos ical TTJS irepl TTJJ/ 

bv 5e <pav\ov r)5ovr)s ovcriav eviropias trios 5e? Kal riva 

\virr) Ko\dt(rOai &<nrep rp6irov e^;e/ irpbs Trjv -^prfffiv 
f. Ibid. iii. 7, 1113, b, . avr-fjv. vii. 5, 1326, b, 32 sqq. 
23: KoXa^ovcri yap KO.\ rifioopovvrai - vii. 10 Jin. 

rovs Spoavras /j.oxQiipa . . . rovs Se 3 vii. 17, 1336, b, 24, where 

ra KoAa TrpctTToi/ras ri/uLutriv, ws the reference to the subsequent 

TOUS TrpoTptyovres, TOVS 8e discussions does not apply to 

KwXvffovTfs. The aim, therefore, comedy alone, 
of punishment, unless we have to 4 Besides Pollt. vii. 12, 1331, 

do with an incurable offender, is a, 35 sqq. c. 17, 1336, b, 8 sqq. ct . 

improvement: in the first in- especially Etli. x. 10, 1180, a, 1 : 

stance, however, only that im- ou% \K.o.vbv 8 forces veovs ovras 

provement of conduct which rpofprjs Kal eiri/ufXeias rv^v opQris, 

springs from the fear of punish- ctAA e/retS^ Kal avSpcadevras 5e? 

ment, not that more fundamental eViTTjSeveti/ aura Kal edifcorOai, Kal 

one of the inclinations which is irepl ravra 8eo://.e0 tut v6fj.<av Kal 

effected in nobler natures by in- oAcos irepl iravra rbv filov ol yap 

struction and admonition : im- iroAAol avdyKp ^uaAAoj/ 7) 

provement, therefore, only in the TretOapxova-i Kal frfj-iais 3) 
sense in which it corresponds to 
the determent of the offender. 


head, we must throw the blame, not upon Aristotle but 
upon the incomplete condition of the work. 

In the completed work we should also have had a 
more detailed account of the constitution of the Best 
State. In the text before us we find only two of its 
characteristics described namely, the conditions of its 
citizenship, and the division in it of political power. In 
reference to the former of these, Aristotle, like Plato, 
with a truly Greek contempt for physical labour, would 
make not only handicraft but also agriculture a dis 
qualification for citizenship in the most perfect state. 
For the citizen of such a state can only be one who 
possesses all the attributes of a .capable man ; but in 
order to acquire these, and to devote himself to the 
service of the state, he requires a leisure and freedom 
from the lower avocations which is impossible to the 
husbandman, the artisan, and the labourer. Such 
occupations, therefore, must in the Best State be left to 
slaves and metoeci. The citizens must direct all their 
energy to the defence and administration of the state ; 
they alone, moreover, are to be the possessors of landed 
estates, since the national property belongs only to the 
citizens. 1 On the other hand, all citizens must take 
part in the direction of the commonwealth. This, accord 
ing to Aristotle, is demanded equally by justice and 
necessity ; since those who stand on a footing of essen 
tial equality must have equal rights, and those who 
possess the power will not permit themselves to be 
excluded from the government. 2 But since the actual 

1 vii. 9, 1328, b, 24 sqq. similar dispositions have been 
1329, a, 17-26,35,c. 10, 1329, b, touched upon. Of. p. 299,n. 4,sup. 
36, after the Egyptian and other 2 vii. 9, 1329, a, 9, c. 13, 



administration cannot consist of the whole mass of the 
citizens, since there must be a difference between ruler 
and ruled, and since different qualities are demanded in 
the administrator and in the soldier in the latter 
physical strength, in the former mature insight- 
Aristotle considers it desirable to assign different spheres 
to different ages : military service to the young, the 
duties of government, including the priestly offices, to 
the elders; and while thus offering to all a share in the 
administration, to entrust actual power only to those 
who are more advanced in life. 1 Such is Aristotle s 
account of Aristocracy. 2 In its fundamental concep 
tion as the rule of virtue and culture, it is closely 
related to Plato s, from which, however, it widely differs 
in detail; although even here the difference is one 
rather of social than of strictly political organisation. 

place, Aristotle is there speakine 
only of common usage (/cciAe^ 5 
etw0a,uej>), giving it at the same 
time as the sole ground of its 
right to the title that it is the 
rule of the best for the common 
good ; and, secondly, in the per 
fect State it is always actually 
a minority who rule. There is 
therefore no ground for distin 
guishing between the aristocracy 
mentioned in iii. 7 from that 
which is spoken of under the 
same name in iv. 7 and vii. (see 
FECHNEE, Gerechtiglteitsbegr. d. 
Arist. p. 92, n.). Still less can 
iii. 17 (p. 239, n. 1, supra) be cited 
in support of this distinction, 
inasmuch as it exactly suits the 
ideal State. 

5e vavrts ol 
rfjs TroAtre as 
c. 14,1332, b, 12-32. 

1 vii. 9, 1329, a, 2-17, 27-34, 
c. 14, 1332, b, 32-1333, b, 11. 

Mv. 7, 1293, b, 1: *p t <rro- 
Kpariav ,uez/ ovv /caAws e^e: /caAetV 
irspl f)S 5ir)\6o/u.ej/ e j/ ro?s Trpcarois 
Aoyots T^V yap e/c riav apiffrwv 
an-Aws /car aper^i/ TroXireiav, KOU 
AC^ irpbs 6x6deffiv TIVOL ayadcav 
avdpw [of. viii. 9, 1328, b, 37], 
[Ji.6vi)v SiKaiov irpoffayopeveiv api- 
(TroKpariav. Cf. c. 2, 1289, a, 31. 
Quite consistent with this is the 
definition of aristocracy, iii. 1, 
1279, a, 34 (see p. 237, supra), as 
the rule r<av bXiycw irXfiovwv 
5 ei/^s in the interest of the 
common good, for, in the first 



6. Imperfect Forms of Constitution 

Besides the best constitution, there are others which, 
deviating from it in different ways and different degrees, 1 
also call for discussion. All these, indeed, in so far as 
they differ from the ideal state, must be reckoned 
defective ; 2 but this does not prevent them from having 
a certain conditional justification in given circumstances 
or form, differing from one another in the degree of 
their relative worth and stability. Aristotle enumerates, 
as we have already seen, 3 three chief forms of imperfect 
constitution: Democracy, Oligarchy, Tyranny; towhic 
\ as he proceeds he afterwards adds as a fourth, Polity 
/together with several mixed forms which are akin to it. 
Democracy is based upon civil equality and freedom. 
In order that the citizens may be equal, they must all 
have an equal right to share in the government ; the 
community, therefore, must be autocratic, and a majorit 
must decide. In order that the citizens may be free, 01 
the other hand, everyone must have liberty to live as h 
pleases ; no one, therefore, has the right to comman 
another, or, so far as this is unavoidable, command, lik 
N obedience, must belong to all. 4 All institutions, there 
fore, are democratic which are based upon the principles 
that election to the offices of state should be made 

1 See p. 235 sq. supra. Kal jSeArico fj.ev 

2 Cf. the passages which are &AATJS ou waAois 

cited p. 238, n. \, supra, especially Se $av\T)v. The imperfect forms 

Polit. iv. 2, 1 289, b, 6 : Plato says, of constitution are usually called 

if the oligarchy &c. be good, the irapeK^da-eis. 

democratic form of constitution 3 P. 237 sqq. 

is the worst, whereas if they are 4 vi. 2, 1317, a, 40-b, 16, 

bad, it is the best. r/jUeTs Se 6 Ao>s -inter alia ; see p. 239 sq. 

ravras e 


either by universal suffrage, by lot, or by rotation that 
110 property qualification, or only an inconsiderable one, 
be attached to them ; that their duration or their powers 
be limited; that all share in the administration of 
justice, especially in the more important cases ; that 
the competence of the popular assembly be extended 
that of the executive restricted, as much as possible ; 
that all magistrates, judges, senators, and priests be 
paid. The senate is a democratic institution. When its 
functions are merged in those of the popular assembly, 
the government is more democratic still. Low origin, 
poverty, want of education, are considered to be demo 
cratic qualities. 1 But as these characteristics may bd 
found in different degrees in different states, as more 
over a particular state may exhibit all or only some of 
them, different forms of democracy arise. 2 As these 
variations will themselves chiefly depend, according to 
Aristotle, upon the occupation and manner of life of 
the people, it is of the highest political importance 
whether the population consists of peasants, artisans, 
or traders, or of one of the various classes of seamen, 
or of poor day-labourers, or of people without the 
full rights of citizenship, or whether and in what 
manner these elements are combined in it. 3 A popula 
tion engaged in agriculture or in cattle-breeding is in 

1 Ibid. 1317, b, 16-1318, a, constitutions the character of 
3, iv. 15, 1300, a, 31. the population, and the extent to 

2 vi. 1, 1317, a, 22, 29 sqq. which the institutions are demo- 

3 iv. 4, 1291, b, 15 sqq. c. G cratic are mentioned side by 
init. c. 12 (see p. 248, n. 1, supra), side. From other passages, how- 
vi. 7 init. c. 1, 1317, a, 22 sqq. In ever, it is evident that Aristotle 
the latter passage both grounds regards the second of these as 
of the difference in democratic dependent upon the first. 

VOL. n. * T 2 



general content if it can devote itself to its work in 
peace, It is satisfied, therefore, with a moderate share 
in the administration : as, for example, the choice of the 
magistrates, their responsibility to itself, and the par 
ticipation of all in the administration of justice. For 
the rest, it will like to leave its business in the hands 
of sensible men. This is the most orderly form of 
democracy. !A community of artisans, traders, and 
labouTerTlTa much more troublesome body to deal 
with. Their employments act more prejudicially upon 
the character, and being closely packed together in the 
city they are always ready to meet for deliberation in 
public assemblies. * If all without exception possess the 
full rights of citizenship ; if those who are not freeborn 
citizens are admitted to the franchise; if the old tribal 
and communal bonds are dissolved and the different 
elements in the population massed indiscriminately 
together ; if the force of custom is relaxed and the 
control over women, children, and slaves is weakened, 
there necessarily arises that unregulated form of demo 
cracy which, as licence has always more attraction for_ 
them than order, is so dear to the masses. 1 In thi& 
way there arise different forms of democracy, of whicKU 
Aristotle enumerates four. 2 The first is that in whichj 
actual equality reigns, and in which, while no exclusive^ 
i Polit vi 4 (where, how- its peculiarity, however, accord- 
ever 1318, b, 13, M must be ing to this passage, rb ras 

struck out) ; cf. iv. 12, 1296, b, 
24 ?qq. 

iv 4, 1291, b, 30 sqq. c. fi, 
cf. c. 12, ibid., vi. 4, 1318, b, 6, 
1319, a, 38. A fifth form seems, 

Tifj.riiJi.dTwv flvtu, according to 
iv. Inlt is rather a character 
istic of the first form.^ With 
SUSBMIHL and others, it will 
therefore be better to omit 

1319 a oo. A mill i ~ . 

iv 4 1291 b 39, to be inserted Se in the passage referred to. Or. 
between the first and the second ; HENKEL, ibid. p. 82. 


influence is conceded either to rich or poor, a certain 
property qualification although a small one is at 
tached to the public offices. The second form is that in 
which no condition is attached to eligibility for office be 
yond citizenship and irreproachable character. A third) 
is that in which, while the public offices belong by right 
to every citizen, the government is still conducted on^ 
constitutional principles. The fourth or unlimited 
democracy is, finally, that in which the decrees of the) 
people are placed above the laws : in which the people, 
led by demagogues, as a tyrant by his courtiers, becomes 
a despot, and in which all constitutional order dis 
appears in the absolute power of the many-headed 
sovereign. 1 

Oligarchy consists, as we already know, in the rulev 
of the propertied classes. But here, also, we find a 
progress from more moderate forms to absolute, un 
limited oligarchy. The mildest is that in which, while 
a property qualification sufficient to exclude the mass 
of poorer citizens from the exercise of political rights is f 
demanded, the franchise is yet freely conceded to all 
who possess the requisite amount. The second form is 
that in which the government is originally in the pos-j 
session only of the richest, who fill up their own ranks by 
co-optation, either from the whole body of the citizens 
or from a certain class. The third is that in whicli.- 
Witical power descends from father to son. The fourth, I 
finally, as a parallel to tyranny and unlimited demo- 

1 With the account of this fiejj. viii. 557 A sqq. 562 B sqq. 

form of democracy, ibid. 1292, a, vi. 493, with the spirit of which 

4 sqq. v. 11, 1313, b, 32 sqq. vi. it has obviously much in common. 
2, 1317, b, 13 sqq., cf. PLATO S 


, is that in which hereditary power is limited by I 
ws. 1 Aristotle, however, here remarks, in terms 

no laws. 

that would apply equally to all forms of government, 
that the spirit of the administration is not unfrequently 
at variance with the legal form of the constitution, and 
that this is especially the case when a change in the 
constitution is imminent. 2 In this way there arise 
mixed forms of constitution ; these, however, are just 
as often the result of the conscious effort to avoid the 
one-sidedness of democracy and oligarchy, as is the case 
with aristocracy commonly so called and with polity. 
Although the name aristocracy belongs, strictly 
speaking, only to the best form of constitution, Ari 
stotle yet permits it to be applied to those forms also 
which, while they do not, like the former, make the 
virtue of the whole body of the citizens their chief aim, 
yet in electing to public office look, not to wealth only, 
but also to capacity. This kind of aristocracy, there 
fore, is a mixed form of government in which olig 
archical, democratic, and genuinely aristocratic elements 
are all combined. 3 To this form polity is closely allied. 4 

1 Polit. iv. 5. 7 : dpx^l yap [^775 ^teraj8oAf)s] rb 

2 Ibid. 1292, b, 11. ^ /te/i?x0at KaAws ev fj.ev rfj 

3 So iv. 7, where Aristotle goes iro\ireia SrjfjLOKpartav Kal 6\iy- 
on to enumerate three kinds of apx iav, ev 5e rf) dpiaroKparia ravrd 
aristocracy in this sense : oirov rj re Kal r^v dper^v, fJ.d\i<rra 5e ra 
TroArreia jSAeVei efc re irXovrov Kal 5vo Xeyw Se ra Svo $rifwi> Kal 
dperrjv Kal STJ/XOJ/, olov eV Kapx^oovi oXiyapx>-av ravra yap al iroXire iai 
. . . Kal 4v als els ra 8vo p.6voi olov re Trztp&vrai /j-iyvvvai Kal al TroAActl 
7) Aa/ce5a/x.ovicov els dper^v re Kal rCov K.a\ov/j.evcav apiffroKpanuv . . . 
8r)/j.ov, Kal eo~n pil-is ruv Si^o ras yap aTroK\ivovo~as fj.a\Xov Trpbs 
rovrcav, Sr]/J.oKparias re Kal dper^s r}]V o\iyapx iav dpiffroKparias Ka- 
. . . Kal rpirov 000.1 rys Ka\ovfj.e- Xovaiv, ras Se Trpbs rb TT\rjQos iro\i- 
VTJS Tro\ireias pe-jrovcri irpbs rr]V reias. 

fji.a\\ov. v. 7, 1307, a, 4 See preceding note, and iv. 



Aristotle here describes it as a mixture of oligarchy and/ 
democracy. 1 It rests on a proper proportion between 
rich and poor ; 2 it is the result of the union in one 
form or another of oligarchic and democratic institu 
tions ; 3 and accordingly it may be classed equally, 
in so far as this union is of the right sort, as a demo- \ 
cracy and as an oligarchy. 4 Its leading feature is, in a 
word, the reconciliation of the antagonism between rich 
and poor and their respective governments. Where the I 
problem is solved, and the proper mean is discovered ) 
between one-sided forms of government, there must 
result a universal contentment with existing institutions,, 
and as a consequence fixity and permanence in the con-\ 

11, 1295, a, 31 : Kal yap as KaXov- 
fftv apiffTOKpaTias, irepl uv vvv 
ciiro/j.ev, TO. fj-ev e^wTtpu iriirTovffi 
ra?s ir\ei(TTais TUV Tr6\euv, TO Se 
yeiTViufft TTJ /cctAou/ieV?? TroArreia 
Sib TTfpl a/J.(po?v us fj.ias Ae/creW. 

1 iv. 8, 1293, b, 33 : eVri yap 
T] TroAiTeia us airbus etVeli/ flints 
6\tyapxias Kal Sy/AOKpaTias, tiuOaari 
Se Ka\eiv ras p.ev airoKXivovaas us 
irpbs T}]V S^M.OKpariavTro\tTias, ras 
Se Trpbs TT]v oAtyapx iav ^uaAAoj/ 
apurTOKpaTias. Of. preceding note. 

2 Ibid. 1294, a, 19 : eVel 5e 
Tpia effrl ra a/ui.<pt(rpr)TovvTa TTJS 

tV^TTJTOS T7JS TTOAtTetOS, f\v6pla 

TT\OVTOS aper-f), . . . fyavepbv 6n r^v 

fJ.fV TOiV SvoTv fJ.ilV, TUV VTf6pUV 

Kal TUV air6puv, iroXnziav 

T^V Se TUV Tpiuv OL 

p.aXiffTa TUV a\\uv irapa T^V 

aX-nQiv^v Kal irpuTt}v. See p. 278, 

n. 3, supra. 

3 iv. 9 : in order to obtain a 
polity we must fix our attention 
on the institutions which are 
peculiar to democracy and olig 
archy, efra e /c TOVTUV a<p e/carepas 

uairep (TV/UL@O\OV [on this expres 
sion, cf. inter alia, Gen. An. i. 
18, 722, b, 11; PLATO, Symp. 
191 D] Xa/j-fidvovTas trvvdcTeov. 
This may be effected in three 
ways : (1) by simply uniting dif 
ferent institutions in each : e.g. 
the oligarchical custom of punish 
ing the rich if they refuse to take 
part in court business, with the 
democratic custom of paying 
poor men a day s wage for appear 
ing in court; (2) by a compro 
mise : e.g. by making neither a 
high nor a low but a moderate 
property qualification a condition 
of admission to the popular assem 
bly ; (3) by borrowing one of two 
kindred institutions from olig 
archy, another from democracy : 
e.^.from the former, appointment 
to office by election instead of by 
lot ; from the latter, the abolition 
of all property qualifications. 

4 Ibid. 1295, b, 14 sqq., where 
this is shown more fully from the 
example of the Spartan constitu 


stitiition as a whole. 1 Hence polity is the form of 
government which promises to be the most enduring, 
f and is the best adapted for most states. For if we 
leave out of consideration the most perfect constitution, 
and the virtue and culture which render it possible, and 
ask which is the most desirable, 2 only one answer is 
possible : that in which the disadvantages of one-sided 
forms of government are avoided by combining them, 3 
and in which neither the poor nor the rich part of the 
population, but the prosperous middle class, has the 
decisive voice. 4 But this is exactly what we find in 
\ polity. It exhibits the antagonistic forces of rich and 
poor in equilibrium, and must itself, therefore, rest on 
the class which stands between them. It is the inter 
mediate form of constitution, 5 that which is more 
favourable than any other to common well-being and 
universal justice, 6 and presupposes the preponderance 

1 Ibid.\.3: Set 5 eV rrj TroAt- TroXirtiav r r]v /car 

reia rr\ /j.e/j.iy/J.ft>r) Ka\ws a^cporepa aAAa fiiov re rbv ro7s TrAeio-rois 

So/feu/ elVat Kal /rr/Serepoi , Kal awfe- KOivwvricrai Svvarbv Kai iroXirtiav ijy 

a-Oai Si aurris Kal /j.r) ew0ei/, Kal 5t ras irXeiffras TroAeis eVSe xerat 

avrrjs /n^ rip ir\t ! ovs !|a>0ei/ elvai fjLeracrx^ v - ^ G this question (with 

roi/y jSouAoyueVous [not by the fact which cf . p. 235) the answer is 

that the majority of those who then given as in the text. 

wish another form of constitution 3 iv. ^ 11 , 1297, a, 6 :^ o<ry 5 ^ ay 

are excluded from participation a/j.eivov r] TroAtreio juix^, rocrovry 

in State management] (eft? yap &i/ /jLovipwrepa. Cf. v. 1, 1302, a, 2 sqq. 

Kal irovnpa TToAtreia rovff vTrdpxov) 4 v. 11 ; seep. 248, n. 1, supra. 

aAAa T< /U7?8 av j8ouAeo"0at TroAi- 5 /j-fcrrj TroAtreia, iv. 11, 1296, 

reiav erepai u.i}Qtv rwv TTJS TrdAews a, 37. 

IMplw.**/*S. " 1V - U I 296 a 22: Whvis 

2 Cf . iv. 1 1 init. : ris 8 ap tcrry the best constitution, that which 
iroAiTe a Kal ris apurros &ios rals is intermediate between olig- 
TrAeiVrats TToAeo-t /cal TO?S TrAeiVrots archy and democracy, so rare? 
rwv avQp&TroH> ^rf irpls aperV Because in most cities the middle 
a-vyKpivovffi rV virep rovs t Stciras, class (rb jUeVov) is too weak ; 
/irjre irpc)? rratSeiav ?) <|>uo-ea;s SeTrai because in the wars between 

irjre irpbs parties the victors established no 



of the middle class over each of the other two. 1 The 
more any one of the other forms of constitution approxi 
mates to this the better it will be, the more widely it 
differs from it if we leave out of account the circum- 
stances which may give it a relative value in a particular 
case the worse. 2 And as virtue consists in preserving 
the proper mean, it may be said that polity corresponds 
more closely than any other form of government to the 
life of virtue in the state ; 3 and accordingly we shall 
be quite consistent in classing it among good constitu- 
tions, and in representing it as based upon the diffusion 
among all classes of a definite me^sure^r^rviirTirtiL^- 
If, further, this virtue be sought? for pre-eminently in 
military capacity, and polity be denned as the govern- 

iroKireia KOIVT] Kal ifftj ; because in 
like manner in the contest for the 
hegemony of Greece one party 
favoured democracy, the other 
oligarchy, and because men are 
accustomed ^TjSe /3ouAe(r0cu T> "GOV 
<xAA 7) ap-%ew fy]Teiv -/) Kparov/ji.ei ovs 
vTro^eveiv. Speaking of the influ 
ence TWV eV Tjyefj.ovia yevofMevcav 
TTJS EAActSos, Aristotle here re 
marks, 1. 39 : for these reasons 
the fj-eavj iroXireia is either never 
found or oArya/as Kal Trap 6\tyois 
els yap avfyp (rweiret(r6Tf] JJ.QVOS TWV 
irporepov (/> yye/AOviq yevo/mevw 
TavTf]v aTToSoui/cu T^]V ra^LV. The 
els av^ft was formerly taken to be 
Lycurgus ; others have suggested 
Theseus (SCHNEIDER, ii. 486 of 
his edition; SPENGEL, Arist. 
Stud. iii. 50), Solon (HBNKBL, 
ibid. 89, SUSEMIHL, in Bu/rsiaris 
JaliresbericU for 1875, p. 376 sq.) 
and others. It cannot be said of 
any of these, however, that the 
hegemony of Hellas was in his 

hands. ONCKEN, on the other 
hand, Staatsl. d. Arist. ii. 269, 
refers the passage to Philip of 
Macedon ; but while he certainly 
left each state its own constitu 
tion in the treaty of 338, it is not 
known that he anywhere intro 
duced (airoSovvai) or restored the 
/Ata-if) 7roAiTe/a. Can the reference 
be to Epaminondas and the com 
munities of Megalopolis and Mes- 
sene which were founded by him ? 

1 iv. 12 ; see p. 248, n. 1, supra. 

2 Ibid. 1296, b, 2 sq. 

3 Of. Polit. iv. 11, 1295, a, 35 : 
ei yap /caAcos eV TOIS yOiKo is efynjrcu 
rb rbf evSai/j.oi a 0iov eli/at rbv /car 
aper^j/ avffj.ir6?iiarTOJ , fj.e(r6r r i]ra 5e 
TT)V aperTjv, T^V fj-effov avayKalov 
fttov elvai fieXnffTov, rrjs e/catrrot? 
evSexo/uevris rvxelv fj.<r6rf)TOS. rovs 
Se avrovs TOVTOVS opovs avayKatov 
elvai Kal vroAecos apery s Kal KaKias 
Kal TroXireias rf yap iro\ireta fiios 
ris ecrri TToAecos. 

4 See p. 243, n. 1 , supra. 


ment of the men able to bear arms, 1 it may be pointed 
out in support of that view, first, that the only form of 
constitution which will be tolerated by a military popu 
lation is one founded upon universal freedom and 
equality ; 2 and, secondly, that the heavy-armed foot- 
soldiers who constituted the main strength of the 
Greek armies belonged chiefly to the well-to-do portion 
of the people. 3 Nevertheless, the ambiguity of the 
position of polity in Aristotle s account of it, to which 
attention has already been called in this chapter, cannot 
be said to be either justified or explained away by these 

The worst of all forms of constitution is Tyranny, 
for in it the best namely, true monarchy has been 
transformed into its opposite. 4 In the course of the 
brief discussion which he devotes to it, Aristotle distin 
guishes three kinds of tyranny, applying the same name, 
not only to absolute despotism, but also to the elective 
monarchy of some barbarous peoples, and to the dicta 
torship of the old Greek ^Esymnetae. True tyranny, 
however, is only to be found in a state where an indi 
vidual wields absolute power in his own interest and 
against the will of the people. 5 

1 iii. 7, 17; seep.243,n.2,sttp. 4 iv. 2, 1289, a, 38 sqq. (cf. 

2 On this head, cf. iii. 11, also vii. 1313, a, 34-1314, a, 29). 
1281, b, 28 sq. On the same principle, according 

3 vi, 7, 1321, a, 12 : rb yap to this passage, oligarchy is the 
dirXiTiKov TWV evTr6pwv ecrrl uaAAo;/ second worst, as aristocracy is 
r) TU>V airopwv. The reason of this the second best, constitution, 
is to be sought for partly in the while democracy is the most 
fact that the equipment of the tolerable of the false forms, being 
hoplites was expensive, but a perversion of polity. For a 
chiefly in the preliminary train- fuller statement of the same view, 
ing in gymnastics required by see Etli. viii. 12. 

the service. Cf. also Polit. iv, 5 Polit. iv. 10 ; cf. iii. 14, 

13, 1297, a, 29 sqq. 


Aristotle next proceeds to examine what division of 
political power is best adapted to each of the different 
kinds of constitution, 1 distinguishing here three sources 
of authority : the deliberative assemblies, the magi 
strates, and the law courts. 2 The functions, however, 
of these three were not so defined as to permit of their 
being completely identified with the legislature, the 
executive, and the judicature of modern political theory. 3 
He does not omit to draw attention here to the tricks 
and sophistries by which the predominant party, in one 
or other form of government, seeks to circumvent its 
opponent and to advance its own interests, 4 making it 
clear, however, that he himself sets small store by such 
petty and hollow devices. 5 He further discusses the 
qualities that fit a man for the discharge of the more 
important offices of state. He demands for this end 
not merely experience, business capacity, and attach 
ment to the existing constitution, but before everything 

1285, a, 16-b, 3, and p. 240 sq. Kal ffv^a x ias Kal SmAjVecw, Ka l 

Si( P ra : Trepl v6fj.wv, Kal Tftpl Kal 

-16 ; cf. vi. 2, 1317, Qvyrjs Kal S^e^ecos, Kal TUV 

b, 17-ldl8,a, 10. cvBwwv, so that conformably to 

/ - iv. 14, 1297, b, 37 : Itrn ^ Greek usage the deliberative as- 

rpia gdpta^ rwv VO\ITCWV Traff&v, sembly, in addition to its legisla- 

irepl &v Sel OewpeTv rbv <rirov$cuov tive functions, has important 

vo^r-nv e/cao-rj? rb ffv^pov judicial and executive duties to 

(v f X 6vTcav KaXws avo.yK.f] T^V perform. 

W9\trciav ^ X fiv Ka\ws, Kal ras 4 "Offa irpoQdfftws xfy eV rats 

TroAn-eias aAAryAwi/ Statyepeiv iv T$ TroAtreuus ffoQl&vrai Trpbs TOV Srj- 

$ia(j> P etv ZKMTTOV Totrwv fart Se p.ov, the 6\iyap X iKa ffoQtfffJMTa rrjs 

TWV rpiw rovr^v ^ fa r i rb vo^oQevias, and on the other hand 

PovXevopevov Trepl rwv KOIVWV, a eV rats S^OKpariais Trpbs raGr 

Sevrtpov 5e rb Trepl ras ap x ds . . . &vri<ro<l>l(ovrai ) iv. 13 

rpiTovS^ri rb SwdCov. 5 v 2> 1307) b? ^ h& adviseg . 

Ibid. 1298, a, 3, Aristotle ^ Trto-Teueiy rots o-o^tV^aroy x dpit> 

Continues : Kvpiov S eVrl T^ /Bov- Trpbs rb TrArj^os ffvyxeifaois e|- 

Trepl wo\efj.ov Kal dpi]Vf\s \ey X erai yap VTTO TWV epyw. 


else that kind of culture and character which is in 
harmony with the spirit of the constitution. 1 He passes 
in review the various offices of state, 2 leaving off at the 
point where we should naturally have expected that 
portion of the missing discussion of the laws which 
-relate to public offices. He treats wjtk^s^ecial care, 
however, the causes which produce change and dissolu 
tion in particular forms of constitution 3 and the means 
to counteract them. 4 Here, also, he is true to his 
method of specifying as fully as possible, as the result 
of wide observation and reflection, all the various causes 
which are at work and the nature of their effects; 
and accordingly he challenges the conclusions of Plato s 
Eepublic on the subject of the revolutions in states and 
their causes, with justice indeed, in so far as his theory 
of politics is in stricter accordance with facts, but at 
the same time not without a certain misunderstanding 
of their true character. 5 This whole section is excep 
tionally rich in examples of acute observation, sound 
judgment, and profound knowledge of the world; it 
is impossible, however, to do more here than mention a 
few of the chief points of interest. Two of these stand 
out in special prominence. In the first place, he warns 
us against under-estimating small deviations from the 
status quo, or insignificant occasions of party strife. 
Important though the objects for which parties contend 
usually are, the actual outbreak of hostilities may be 

1 v. 9, where the third com- - vi. 8. 

raonly neglected point of the dpeTT? a v. 1-7, 10. 

Kal SiKaioa-vvTi ev eKaffTr) Tro\ireia v. 8, 9, 11, vi. 5-7. 

71 nobs -rt]v TroAn-eicu/ is discussed 5 v. 12, 1315, a, 40 sqq. ; cf 

with especial fullness. Cf.p. 286, ZELLEK, Platon. Stud: 206 sq. 
n. 3. infra. 


occasioned by the pettiest of causes, 1 and small as the 
change in a government may be at first, yet this may 
be itself the cause of a greater, and so there may 
gradually come about from small beginnings a complete 
revolution in the whole. 2 Secondly, we have the prin 
ciple which constitutes one of the leading thoughts in ) 
Aristotle s Politics, and is not the least of the many 

proofs of political insight exhibited in the work / 

namely, that every form of government brings ruin on" 
itself by its own excess, and that moderation in the use f 
of authority, justice to all, good administration arid/ 
moral capacity are the best means of retaining power/ 
Democracies are ruined by demagogy and by injustice, 
towards the prosperous classes ; oligarchies, by oppres 
sion of the people and by the limitation of political , 
rights to too small a minority ; monarchies by arrogance i 
and outrage in the rulers. 3 He who desires the main 
tenance of any particular form of government must 
endeavour above everything to keep it within the limits/ 
of moderation, and prevent it from courting its own 
destruction by any one-sided insistence on the principle 
of its constitution; 4 he must endeavour to reconcile coii- 

^ l v . 4 init. : ylyvovrai fiev olv sqq. These are not the only 

01 <rra<Tis ov ire pi p.i K pS>v aAA causes of their ruin, according to 

e K uitcpuv, ^ {TTaaidfrva-i Se irepl Aristotle, but they are among 

fj.eya\wv. ^aAto-ra 5e ical at /j.iKpa.1 the most frequent and important. 
Iffxvovffiv, orav eV rols Kvpiois 4 v. 9, 1309, b, 18: irapa iravra 

yhcevrat . . . eV apx? jap yiyvfrai Se ravra 5e7 ^ XavBdveiv, t> vvv 

rb apdpriipa, rj S apx*} heycrai \av8dvei ras TrapeK&e/3r)Kv;as TTO- 

ri^.i<rv eZj/cu iravros &c. ; in support Aireias, rb H.GGOV iroAAa yap rwv 

of which there follows a rich SOKOVVTCOV Sri/nonKM \vet ras 5r]/no- 

collection of examples. Kparias Ko.1 TWV bXiyapxutiav ras 

2 v. 7, 1307, a, 40 sqq. c. 3, oAiyapx ias, as is well shown in 
1303, a, 20. what follows. Of. vi. 5, 1320 a 

3 v. 5, c. 6 init.. Hid. 1305, b, 2 sqq. 
2, 1306, a, 12, c. 10, 1311 a. 22 


flicting factions ; lie must counterbalance the prepon 
derance of one by assigning corresponding influence 
to the other, and so preserve the former from excess. 1 
Above all, he must be careful to prevent the public 
offices from being worked for selfish ends, or one portion 
of the people from being plundered and oppressed by 
the other. Here the right course is precisely the 
opposite of that which is commonly pursued : it is pre 
cisely the natural opponents of a constitution that require 
most consideration, lest by unjust treatment they be 
transformed into active enemies of the commonwealth. 2 
In another respect what is required by the nature of 
the case is the opposite of that which commonly occurs. 
Nothing is of greater importance for the preservation of 

f any form of state than the previous education of those 
in whose hands the power is placed. 3 But capacity for 
rule depends solely upon modesty and hardihood ; the 

( power of the oligarch is incompatible with effeminacy. 

( the freedom of the people with licentiousness. 4 And 

) this is true of all forms of constitution without excep- 

1 v. 8, 1308, b, 24. ircutieva-Qai Trpbs r^v iro\ireiav ov 

2 v. 8, 1308, b, 31-1309, a, 32, rovro, rb TroieTi/ ols x a/l P OU(riv ot 
c. 9, 1310, a, 2 sqq. vi 5, 1320, a, 6\iyapxovvres ^ ot Sr]/j.oKpariav 
4 sqq. 29 sqq. c. 7, 1321, a, 31 f3ov\6fji.evoi, dAA ols Suv-fjcrovrai ol 
sqq. yuei/ oXiyap^lv ol 8e 5r)/j.oKpare i(Tdat. 

3 v. 9, 1310, a, 12: /j.eyio~rov vvv 5 ev /j.ev rats 6\iyapxi<us ot 
Se irdvTwv rwv et ptyuei/coj/ Trpbs rb rSav ap%(Wa>j> viol rpv(p)0~iv, ol Se 
Siauevetv ras iroAireias, ov vvv ruv airSpwv yi-yvovra.i 
o\iywpovffi irdvTs, rb iraLSevecrOai /aevoi Kal TreirovrjKores, wtrre /cal 
irpos TO.S TroAtreias. 6cp\os yap /SouAovrat /j.a\\ov /cal Svvavrai 
ou0ey rcav w^eAt/icoraTWJ/ v6fj.<av vccarepi^iv. Similarly in demo- 
KCU a-vvSeSo^aa-^vcav virb Travrcav cracies : ($ ev rais roiavTais 8r)/J.o- 
TUV Tro\iTevo/J.V<av, i JUT/ HffovTaL e/ccKTros ws (Bov\eTat . . . 
tidi(r/j.evoi Kal TreTraiSew/teVoi tv rrj rovro 8 tffrl <pav\ov ov yap 8e? 
TroAiTe/a. Cf. pp. 261, 284, n. 1, oiecrQa.1 Sov\eiav tivai rb gyv irpbs 
supra. TTIV TroAtretaj/, aAAd 

4 Ibid. 1. 19: fcrri 5e rb ire- 


tion. Even the absolute power of the monarch depends 
for its continuance upon its limitation ; l and the un- 
righteous rule of the tyrant can only make men forget 
the odium of its origin by approaching in the form of 
its administration to monarchy. The best means for, 
the maintenance of tyranny is care for the common well-j 
being, for the embellishment of the city, and for the 
public services of religion, a modest household and good 
economy, ready recognition of merit, a courteous and 
dignified bearing, commanding personality, sobrieti^ 
and strength of character, regard for the rights and[ 
interests of all. 2 80 in like manner with regard to 
oligarchy, the more despotic it is, the more need is there 
for good order in the government : for just as it is tW 
sickly body or the cranky vessel that demands the most 
careful management, so it is the bad state that most 
requires good administration in order to counterbalance 
its defects. 3 And so we arrive always at the same cor/-] 
elusion namely, that justice and morality are the only . 
security for durability in states. However deep tie 
philosopher goes in the scientific analysis of the forms \ 
of constitution which more or less lack this foundation, 
it is only to arrive in the end at the same result, and to f 
show that in them also the government must be con- , 
ducted upon the principles which more obviously under- f 
lie the true forms : that which in these last is the 

1 v. 11 ittit. : v&ovTai Se [at riKol /col rols tfQeffiv 1<roi fj.a\\ov 

T$ TO.S ^lv /foo-jAeias Kal vwb rwv apxo/j.fV(ov tyQovovvra. 

ayeiv eirl TO /jLerpLcarepot/. ocrc? yap $)TTOV. 

f\arr6vai/ Sxri Kvpioi, irAeiw XP VOV v - H } 1314, a, 29-1315, b, 

kvayKouov yueVetv Traffiv r}]v o-px^ v 10. 
O.VTOL Tf ykp fJTTov y ivovTo.1 Seo-Tro- 3 vi. 6, 1320, b, 30 sqq. 


primary object of government namely, the well-being of 
all i s i n the former an indispensable means for retaining 
the sovereignty. 

The fates prevented Aristotle from developing his 
political views with the fullness and completeness he 
intended in his plan, and philosophy is, doubtless, 
greatly the loser. But even in the incomplete form in 
which we have it, the Politics is the richest treasure that 
has come down to us from antiquity, and, if we take into 
account the difference of the times, it is the greatest con 
tribution to the field of political science that we possess. 




ARISTOTLE regards Rhetoric, as we have already seen, as 
auxiliary to Politics. 1 His treatment of this, as of other 
branches of science, was thoroughly revolutionary, and 
his labours may be said to form an epoch in its history. 
While his predecessors had contented themselves with 
what was little more than a collection of isolated 
oratorical aids and artifices, 2 he sought to lay bare the 
permanent principles which underlie a matter in which 
success is commonly regarded as a mere question of 
chance, or at best of practice and readiness, and thus 
to lay the foundations for a technical treatment of 
rhetoric. 3 He seeks to supply what Plato 4 had de 
manded but had not actually attempted namely, a 
scientific account of the principles of the oratorical art. 
He does not limit the sphere of this art, as did the 

1 Cf. p. 185, n. 1, supra, and e|es. iirtl 8 d^t(/)OTepcos eVSe- 
on Aristotle s rhetorical works, x TCU Sf/Aoi/ ort efo? &v aura xal 
vol. i. p. 72 sq. <58o7TOietV- St ft yap eTrirvyx^v 

2 Besides what PLATO, Pliccd- oi re Sta ffuvf]6eiav Kal ot 
rus, 266 C sqq., and Aristotle Tavro/uLarov, T^V alrtav de* 
himself, Rhet. i. 1, 1354, a, 11 eySe xercu, rb Se TOIOVTOV 
sqq., remarks, see also Pit. d. Gr. iravres az/ ouoAoyhvaiev 

i. p. 1013 sqq. tpyov elj/at. 

3 BJiet. i. 1, 1354, a, 6: ruv 4 Pluedr. 269 D sqq. ; cf . ZELL. 
ovv iroAAcoj/ oi fj.ev eiVrj ravra Ph. d. Gr. p. 803 sq. 

VOL. II. u 


ordinary view, to forensic and perhaps political oratory. 
He remarks, as his predecessor had done, that since the 
gift of speech is universal and may be applied to the 
most diverse purposes, and since its exercise, whether 
in public or in private, in giving advice, in exhortation, 
and in every kind of exposition, is essentially the same, 
rhetoric, like dialectic, is not confined to any special 
field ; l as dialectic exhibits the forms of thought, so 
must rhetoric exhibit the forms of persuasive speech in 
all their universality, and apart from their application 
to any particular subject-matter. 2 On the other hand, 
as Plato had already observed, 3 the function of the art 
of oratory is different from that of philosophy : the latter 
aims at instruction, the former at persuasion ; the goal 
of the one is truth, of the other probability. 4 Aristotle, 
however, differs from his teacher in the value he attaches 
to this art and to theoretical discussions devoted to its 
exposition. 5 He agrees, indeed, with Plato in reproach 
ing, ordinary rhetoric with limiting itself to aims which 
are merely external, and considering it merely as a 
means for exciting the emotions and winning over the 
jury, and with neglecting the higher branch of oratory 

1 Rhet. i. 1 init., and 1355, b, 3 Cf. Pli. d. Gr. i. p. 803 sq. 
7, c. 2 init. t ibid. 1356, a, 30 sqq. 4 Rhet. i. 1, 1355, a, 25, c. 2 
ii. 18 init. c. 1, 1377, b, 21 ; of. init. See also infra. 

PLATO, Pheedr. 261 A sqq. 5 He does not, indeed, men- 

2 Rhet. i. 4, 1359, b, 12 : 6Voj tion Plato in Rhet. i. 1, 1355, a, 
8 av ris 3) rV StaXe/c-n/cV ?) ravrrjv 20 sqq., but that he had him, and 
[rhetoric] i^ KaOdnep &v 8wdfj.eis especially his Goryias (Ph. d. Gr. 
[dexterities] <xAA imffrfnas irei- i. p. 510), in his mind is rightly 
parai Karaa-Kevd^iv, \1\ff erai r}]v observed by SPEXGEL (Ueb. die 
$V<TLV avT&v a<<Ta.s r ptTafiai- Rhetorik des Arist. : Abh. d. 
vew tiriffKevdfav els eiriffT-fi/uas pliilos.-pliilol. Kl. d. Bayer. 

i>a)i> Trpay/j.dTUJ , a\\a Ahad. vi. 458 sq.). 


in which these means occupy a secondary place _ for 
the lower, political for forensic eloquence. But on the 
other hand he recognises that the one essential function 
of the speaker, under all circumstances, is to convince 
his audience, 1 and accordingly he admits no rhetoric as 
genuine which is not based upon dialectic or the art of 
logical demonstration. 2 He even expressly declares 
that all rhetorical artifices must be rigorously excluded 
from the law courts, and orators forced to confine 
themselves exclusively to logical demonstration. 3 He 
recognises, however, 4 that all are not open to scientific 
instruction, but that for the majority of men we must 
start from the level of the common consciousness, which 
moves in a region of probability, and not of abstract 
truth. Nor does he see any great danger in so doing, 
for men, he holds, have a natural sense of truth, and 
as a general rule are right. 5 He reminds us that in 
the art of oratory we possess a means of securing the 
victory of right, as well as of defending ourselves ; and 
that in order that we may not fall a prey to the arts of 
opponents, it is indispensable that we should ourselves 
understand their nature. 6 As, therefore, in the 

1 ItJiet. i. 1, 1354, a, 11 sqq. aA^s Ka \ rb &><,,<, r $ & 

r i TiBj IOBR o attT ^ S eVri Sy "<fc** i 

2 1356 f 20 San" 1 ^^ C> S ^ l &Vd ^ 0i ^ S 

2,1.^6 a 20 sqq . , , ^* *W* Ka l 

1. 1, 1354, a, 24 : ov yap Se< rvyxdvovn rr,s &\r,e e las Sib 

v A ,* j *-j{\jfiu^ A.nt TiuuS T7y 

7ap /cai/ ei Tis, 65 ^eAAei Qeiav IVTIV Of p 256 n 9. ,, 
j xp9^a< a^, TOUTOV ol Vie a 7^. and 1355, b, Vf the 

o-rpe/^Aoj/ Or. m. 1, 1404, a, 4. misuse of the art of oratory is 

"i i 1AHA 7 5 a 2 ~ b 7 f> certailll y ver J dangerous, % : 

! m - J, 14 4 a X ?l q , 4 this is true of all accom 

; 13oo, a 14: rhetoric is ments except virtuethe 

based upon dialectic ; r6 re yap so in proportion to their 



he had supplemented the investigation of scientific proof 
by that of probable proof, in the Politics the account of 
the best with that of defective constitutions, so in the 
Rhetoric, he does not omit to treat of those aids to the 
orator which supplement actual proof, and to discuss the 
art of demonstration, not only in its strict sense, but also 
in the sense of probable proof, which starts with what is 
universally acknowledged and obvious to the mass of 
mankind. 1 But as he regards the former as the most 

1 Aristotle therefore treats 
rhetoric, not only as the counter 
part of dialectic (avrta-rpo^os rrj 
SiaXeKTiKrj, Rliet. i. 1 init. 
which, however, primarily re 
fers merely to the fact that 
they both deal, not with the con 
tents, but with the universal 
forms of thought and speech), 
but as a branch (see p. 185, n. 1, 
mpra) and even as a part of it 

/J.6plOV Ti TTJS SmAe/CTlKTJS Kal 

6[Moiufia (Rhet. i. 2, 1356, a, 30 
that SPENGEL, Rliet. Gr. i. 9, 
reads for o^otw/xa "6/xo/a,"is for 
the question before us unimpor 
tant, but the alteration is not 
probable) ; a science compounded 
of analytic and ethics. In a 
\vord, it consists for the most 
part in an application of dia 
lectic to certain practical pro 
blems (described p. 295, infra). 
While, therefore, we cannot di 
rectly apply to rhetoric all that 
is true of dialectic in general, 
. and still less all that is true of 
it as applied to the service of 
philosophy, and while the dis 
tinctions which THUKOT (Etudes 
sur Aristote, 154 sqq. 2-12 sq. ; 
Questions sur la Rlietoriqiie ^ iV 
jiristote, 12 sq.) seeks to point 

out between the two sciences 
are, so far, for the most part well 
grounded, it does not follow from 
this that the above account of 
their relation to one another is 
incorrect, and that we have a 
right, with Thurot, to set aside 
the definite statement in Rliet. i. 
2, by altering the text. For the 
orator s most important function, 
according to Aristotle, is demon 
stration, which, as only probable, 
falls within the sphere of dia 
lectic (Rlwt. i. 1, 1355, a, 3 sqq.); 
rhetoric is demonstration e 
c-i/So|oji/ in reference to the sub 
jects which are proper to public 
speaking, as dialectic is a like 
kind of demonstration with refer 
ence to all possible subjects. Nor 
can we accept THUROT S proposal 
(Etudes, 248 sqq.) to read, Rhet. 
i. 1, 1355, a, 9, c. 2, 1356, a, 26, 
Anal. Post. i. 11, 77, a, 29, 
" az/aAuTi/cV instead 
As the doctrine of 
e eV5($|wv, dialectic necessarily 
deals with inferences in general, 
and as it is precisely inferences 
of this kind which are the sub 
ject-matter of rhetoric, it is better 
to connect it with dialectic than 
with analytic, using 


important sense, he devotes the fullest discussion to it. 
Of the three books of the Rhetoric, the first two, being 
the first section of his plan, treat of the means of 
proof (iricrrsLs) ; while the second and third parts, on 
style (Xe fts-) and arrangement (rafts), are compressed 
into the last book, whose genuineness, moreover, is not 
beyond dispute. 1 

Proofs, according to Aristotle, are divided into those 
which fall within the province of art and those which 
do not. Rhetoric as a science has to do only with the 
former. 2 These are of three kinds, according as they 
depend upon the subject, the speaker, or the hearer. 
A speaker will produce conviction if he succeeds in 
showing that his assertions are true and that he is him 
self worthy of credit, and if he knows how to create a 
favourable impression upon his hearers. Under the first 
of these heads, that of the subject-matter, we shall have 
to discuss demonstration; under the second, or the 
character of the speaker, the means which the orator 
takes to recommend himself to his audience ; under the 
third, or the disposition of the hearers, the appeals that 
he makes to their emotions. 3 The first and most 
important part of rhetoric, therefore, falls into these 
three sections. 4 

however, in a somewhat wide ypafal Kal ova roiavra, crrf X v 

sense. On the relation of dia- 8e 8<ra Sia r^s /uLeOoSov K al 5t fyt/ 

lectio to rhetoric, see also WAITZ, /earache imo-0??z/cu Swar6v. 2xrre 

Arist. Onj. ii. 435 sq. 5e? rovruv ro~is ^v xrf<ra<r8ai ra 

1 Cf. vol. i. p. 74. supra ; Ph. Se eupe?j/ 

d. Gr. i. p. 389. * L 2> 135G> a> l gqq ^ ^ 

^ - RJtet. i. 2, 1355, b, 35 : ruv 1377, b, 21 sqq. iii. 1, 1403, b, 9; 

5e Tno-rea,!/ a! uej/ are X i>oi e<W at cf. i. 8, 9, 1366, a, 8, 25. 

. . , , , , , . 

Se Aeyw 6Va * irepl ras airo5ei^is,-ir. ra 

5i r,p.S)v TreTropta-rai aAAa irpoinr- TT. TO. irdQr). 
1/ , w-ov pdprvpes Pd.a-a.voi avy- 


These, again, are found to deal with subjects of 
different intrinsic importance, 1 and it is therefore not 
unnatural that Aristotle should treat the first of them, 
the theory of demonstration, at the greatest length. 
Just as scientific proof proceeds by syllogism and induc 
tion, so rhetorical proceeds by enthymeme and instance. 2 
The exposition of the various points of view from which 
a subject may be treated, 3 the topics of oratory, occupies 
a considerable portion of Aristotle s treatise ; nor does 
he here limit himself to universal principles which are 
equally applicable to every kind of speech, but discusses 
those peculiarities in each which depend upon the par 
ticular aim it has in view and the character of its 
subject-matter ; 4 he thus seeks to exhibit the principles 
of oratory, not only in respect to its general form, but 
also in respect to its particular matter. With this 
aim he distinguishes three different kinds or classes of 

1 See p. 291, n. 2, supra. meme states in a universal propo- 

- Rhet. i. 2, 1356, a, 35-1357, sition, his account refers, as a 

b, 37, where the nature of these matter of fact, to demonstration 

means of proof is fully explained, in general, as he, indeed, also 

cf. ii. 22 init. ; Anal. Pri. ii. 27, includes in it (e.g. ii. 20, c. 23, 

70, a, 10. An enthymeme, accord- 1397, b, 12 sqq. 1398, a, 32 sqq.) 

ing to this passage, is a ffv\Xoyiff- example and induction. 
,ubs e| fMrtev *) ff-np-fttav. Rhet. 4 Rhet. i. 2, 1358, a, 2 sqq. : 

1356, b, 4 gives another defini- the enthymeme consists partly of 

tion : KaAw 8 eVflujuij/Aa pev prj- universal propositions which 

ropiKbv, irapdSeiyfjia belong to no special art or science 

Se e TrcrywyV pf]ropiK-r]v ; it comes, and are applicable, e.g., to physics 

however, to the same thing, as as well as ethics, partly of such as 

the orator, qua orator, is limited are of limited application within 

to probable evidence. the sphere of a particular science, 

3 In Rhet. i. 2, 1358, a, 2, ii. e.g. physics or ethics ; the former 

26 init., and ii. 1 init., Aristotle Aristotle calls rfaroi, the latter 

speaks only of the principles of *8m or eftr?, remarking that the 

the enthymeme ; but as the ex- distinction between them, funda- 

ample only calls to mind in an mental as it is, had almost 

individual case what the enthy- entirely escaped his predecessors. 


speeches : deliberative, forensic, and declamatory. 1 The 
first of these has to do with advice and warning ; the 
second, with indictment and defence ; the third, with 
praise and blame. The first deals with the future ; the 
second, with the past ; the third, pre-eminently with the 
present. In the first, the question is of advantage and 
disadvantage ; in the second, of right and wrong ; in 
the third, of nobility and baseness. 2 Aristotle enu 
merates the topics with which each of these has to deal. 3 
He indicates 4 the chief subjects upon which advice may 
be required in politics, and the questions which arise in 
connection with each, and upon which information must 
be sought. He discusses minutely the goal for which all 
human actions make namely, happiness; its con 
stituents and conditions; 5 the good and the things 
which we call good ; 6 the marks by which we distinguish 
goods of a higher or a lower character ; 7 and, finally, 
he gives a brief review of the distinguishing charac 
teristics of the different forms of government, inasmuch 
as these must in each case determine both the orator s 
actual proposals and the attitude he assumes towards 
his hearers. 8 Similarly, with a view to the orator s 
practical guidance in the declamatory art, he enlarges 
upon the noble or honourable in conduct; upon virtue, 

1 Aristotle was also mi- marks in Rhet. i. 4 init. 
doubtedly the first to point out 4 Ibid. 1359, b, 18 sqq., where 

this important division, for we five are enumerated: revenue, 

cannot regard the Rhetorica ad war and peace, defence, exports, 

Alexandrum (c. 2 init. ), as has and imports, legislation. 
been already remarked, vol. i. p. 3 i. 5. 

74, supra, as pre-Aristotelian. i. 6. 

8 Rhet. i. 3. Ibid. c. 7. 

3 See the more general re- 8 i. 8,cf. vol. ii.p. 240, n. 3, *_/>. 


its chief forms, its outward signs and effects ; and upon 
the method which the orator must adopt in treating of 
these subjects. 1 For behoof of the forensic orator, he 
discusses, in the first place, the causes and motives of 
unjust actions, and since pleasure as well as good (which 
has already been discussed) may be a motive, Aristotle 
goes on to treat of the nature and kinds of pleasure and 
the pleasurable. 2 He inquires what it is in the circum 
stances both of the perpetrator and of the sufferer of the 
wrong that tempts to its committal. 3 He investigates 
the nature, the kinds, and the degrees of crime ; 4 and 
adds, finally, in this section rules for the employment of 
those proofs which lie outside the province of art, and 
which find a place only in a judicial trial. 5 The views 
he propounds on all these subjects agree, of course, 
entirely with what we already know of his ethical and 
political convictions, except that here, in accordance 
with the aim of the work, they are presented in a more 
popular, and therefore sometimes in a less accurate 
and scientific, form. Only after thus discussing the 
individual peculiarities of the different kinds of oratory 
does Aristotle proceed to investigate those forms of 
proof which are equally applicable to all, 6 discussing 
under this head the universal forms of demonstration 
namely, enthymeme and instance, together with a few 

i i. 9. supra), with SPENGEL, before the 

- i. 10 sq. first seventeen chapters of the 

3 TT&S ex VTfS Ka ^ T " as ^ l ~ second book. But even if, with 
KOVO-IV, Rhet. i, 12. BBANDIS(iii.l94:8q.)andTHUBOT 

4 i. 13 sq., of. c. 10 init. (Etudes sur Arist. 228 sqq.), we 

5 i. 15, cf. p. 293, n. 2, supra, take the traditional order as the 
fi ii. 18 (from 1391, b, 23 on- original one, we must admit that 

wards), c. 26, if, that is to say, we the contents of the section are 
place this section (see vol. i. p. 74, more in place here. 


rhetorical commonplaces. 1 Of the two other means of 
proof, besides demonstration proper namely, the per- 
sonal recommendations of the speaker and the impres 
sion upon the audience the former is only cursorily 
touched upon, as the rules relating to it are deducible 
from other parts of the argument. 2 On the other hand, 
Aristotle goes into minute detail on the subject of the 
emotions and their treatment : on anger and the means 
of arousing and soothing it ; 3 on love and hatred, desire 
and aversion, and the means of exciting each of them ; 4 
likewise on fear, shame, good will, sympathy, 5 indigna 
tion, 6 envy, and jealousy. 7 To this he finally adds an 
account of the influence which the age and outward 
circumstances (rv%ai) of a man exercise upon his 
character and disposition. 8 

These observations conclude the first arid most 
important section of the Rhetoric ; the third book treats 
more shortly of style and arrangement. In regard to the 

1 According to the announce- mend him to his audience the 

ment made c. 18 fin., c. 19 treats orator must get credit for three 

especially of possibility and im- things : insight, uprightness and 

possibility, actual truth and false- benevolence: 66ev TO IVVV 

hood, relative importance and un- <$>povi{j.oi Kal anrovSaioi <pavtv kv, 

importance (irepl Svvarov Kal ddv- e/c ruv nepl ras aperas Sippti/Aevwj 

V&TOV, Kal irdrepov ytyovev /) ov (i.9 ; see p. 296, n. 1, swj}.~) \T)irr4ov 

yeyovsv Kal fffrai $)OVK earai, enSe . . . irepl 5 fvi>oias Kal (f)t\ias eV 

irepl peydOovs Kal fJUKpor-nros rS>v TO?S vepl ra Trddr) Aewreo^ vvv. 
Trpa.yij.arwv, 1393, a, 19) ; c. 20 of :i ii. 2, 3. 

j illustration, c. 21 of gnomology ; 4 c. 4. 

| c. 21-26 of enthymemes, for which 5 c. 5-8. 

: Aristotle gives, not only general c The displeasure at the un- 

; I rules (c. 22), but a complete topi- merited fortune of unworthy 

Meal account of the forms employed persons (>e>e<m), the account of 

; \ in proof and disproof (c. 23) ; of which in Rliet. ii. 9 harmonises 

fallacies (c. 24); of instances with that in Mil. ii. 7 (see p. 

| for combating enthymemes (c. 169). 
i 25 )- 7 ii. 10, 11. 

- ii. 1378, a, G : to recom- 8 ii. 12-17. 


former, a distinction is in the first place drawn between 
delivery and language. While desiderating a technical 
system of instruction in rhetorical delivery, the author 
regrets the influence which so external a matter exer 
cises on the general effect of a speech. 1 He next calls 
attention to the distinction between the language of 
the orator and of the poet, demanding of the former, 
as its two most essential requirements, clearness and 
dignity, 2 and advising as the means best fitted to secure 
them that the speaker should confine himself to appro 
priate expressions and effective metaphors, 3 upon the 
qualities and conditions of which he proceeds to enlarge. 4 
He treats further of propriety of language, 5 fullness and 
suitability of expression. 6 rhythm and structure of the 
sentences, 7 grace and lucidity of presentation. 8 He 
examines, finally, the tone that should be adopted in 
written or oral discourse, and in the different kinds of 
oration. 9 It is impossible, however, to give here in 
detail the many striking observations which the writer 
makes upon these subjects. They clearly show that 

1 iii. 1 , 1403, b, 21-1404, a, 23. and syntax, are included definite- 
Aristotle does not go fully into ness and unambiguousness of" 
the discussion of what is good or expression, as well as rb evav- 
bad delivery ; he merely remarks ayvw(nov and evcppaffTov. 

that it depends upon the voice 6 OJKOS TTJS A|es, c. 6, T& 

especially upon its power, melody irpe-jroi/ r. Ae f . c, 7, which consists 

(ap/j.ovia) and rhythm. chiefly in the true relation be- 

2 rb TrpfTrov, the proper mean tween matter and style, 
between rb Ta-rrfivbv and rb virep 7 The former c. 8, the latter 
rb ai<D/j.a, between a bald and an c. 9. 

overloaded style. 8 The UCTTGIOV and eu5o/cfytovw 

3 iii. 1 sq. 1404, a, 24-b, 37. the irpb o^drw TTOL^V, &c., c. 10 

4 Ibid, to c. 4 Jin. sq. 

3 TO eAA7jj/;eii/, iii. 5, in which, 9 c. 12. 

besides correct gender, number 


even if the book did not come direct from Aristotle in 
its present form, it is yet founded upon his teaching. 

In the last section of the Rhetoric, which treats of 
arrangement, prominence is in the first place given to 
two indispensable parts of every speech : the presentation 
of the subject-matter, 1 and the demonstration. To these 
are added in the majority of speeches an introduction 
and a conclusion, so that there are four chief parts in 
all. 2 The method of treatment which each of these 
parts demands, and the rules both for their arrangement 
and execution which the character of the circumstances 
require, are discussed with great knowledge and pene 
tration. And just as Aristotle s theory of oratory as a 
whole does not neglect the external aids to success, so 
here also devices are touched upon which are permitted 
to the orator only in consideration of the weakness of 
his hearers or of his case. 3 The Rhetoric stands in 
this respect also as the exact counterpart of the Topics. 
But here, as there, it is impossible to follow these 
discussions into greater detail. 

1 irpoOearis, expo&itw. Narra- sq. the proofs, c. 19 the conclu- 
tion is merely a particular kind sion. 

of it which is employed only in 3 Of. c. 14, 1415, b, 4 : 

forensic speeches ; c. 13, 1414, a, Set 5e /*$) XavQavsiv on iravra e|a; 

34 sqq. TOV \6yov TO, roiavra -jrpbs (pav\ov 

2 c. 13. In accordance with yap aKpoar^v /cat TO. e|co TOV irpdy- 
this division Aristotle discusses JJ.O.TOS a/eotWra, eVe) at/ p.^ TOIOVTOS 
first (c. 14 sq.) the introduction, rj ovQev Set Trpoo^uou, aAA 3) tivov 
secondly (c. 16) the exposition of rb irpay/j.a etTretV /ce(/>aAcuco5ws, iva 
the subject (which, however, he exf) wffirep au/j-a /ce</>aA7jj>. 

here again calls St^Tjtm), c. 17 





BESIDES knowledge and action, Aristotle distinguishes, 
as a third branch, artistic production, and to theoretic 
and practical he adds poetic science. 2 The latter, how 
ever, he fails to treat with the same comprehensive 
grasp as the two former. Of such of his works as have 
come down to us only one is devoted to art, and that 
not to art as a whole, but to the art of poetry; and 
even this we possess only in an imperfect form. But 
even of those which are lost none treated of art, or even 
of fine art, in a comprehensive manner. 3 Apart from a 

1 E. MULLER, Gescli. der 
Theorie der Kunst bei den Alten, 
ii. 1-181 BRANDIS, ii. b, 1683 
sqq. iii. 156-178; TBICHMULLBB, 
Arist. Forsch. vol. i. ii. 1867, 
1869 ; KEINKENS, Arist. iiber 
Kunst bes. ub. Tragodie, 1870 ; 
DORING, Kv/nstlehre d. Arist. 
1876. For further literature on 
the subject see below and cf. 
UEBERWEG, Grwidr. i. 204 sq. ; 
cf. SUSEMIIIL, Jahrb. f. Philol. 
Ixxxv. 395 sqq. xcv. 150 sqq. 221 
sqq. 827 sqq. cv. 317 sqq., in the 
preface and notes to his edition 
of the Poetics (2 ed. 1874), and 
in Bursiarts Jahresbericht for 
1873, p. 594 sqq. 1875, p. 381 sqq. 
1876, p. 283 sqq. 

* See vol. i. pp. 106 sq., 182. 

3 There is, according to Ari 
stotle, a great difference be 
tween these ; to rex^n belong all 
the products of intelligence, 
beautiful and useful alike ; see 
inter alia p. 107,n. 2, sup.; Netapli. 
i. 1, 981, b, IT, 21. While re 
marking, Mctapli. ibid., that some 
of the rexvai serve npbs 
others -rrpbs Siaycayf]! , while at 
Trpbs ifSovrjv //.TjSe trpbs TavayK 
ru>v eTTLcrrrj/j-cav are different from 
both, he fails, nevertheless, to 
give any fuller account of the 
marks which distinguish the fine 
from the merely useful arts in 
Phys. ii. 8, 199, a, 15 he is dis 
cussing, not (as TEICHMULLEE, 



book upon Music, whose genuineness is highly doubtful, 1 
we hear only of historical and dogmatic treatises upon 
poets and the art of poetry, among which some were 
probably likewise spurious. We cannot, therefore, look 
to Aristotle for a complete theory of art ; nor are his 
views even upon the art of poetry fully known to us 
from the sources which we possess. 

Aristotle s philosophy of art is founded, like Plato s, 2 
not on the conception of beauty in the abstract, but on 
that of art. The conception of beauty remains vague 
and undefined to the last. In dealing with moral beauty 
Aristotle compares the beautiful with the good inas 
much as the latter is desirable on its own account, 3 
remarking at the same time elsewhere that, looked 
at from other points of view, it is as compared with 

Ar. Forscli. ii. 89 sqq. believes) 
two kinds of arts, but a twofold 
relation of art generally to 
nature. Cf . p. 303, n. 3, infra, and 
BORING, p. 80 sq. 

1 On this treatise see vol. i. p. 
103, n. 1, snjjra. The fragment in 
PLUT. De Mm. 23, p. 1139, which 
ROSE (Fragm. 43, p. 1482) and 
HEITZ (*>. 75, p. 53) refer to 
the Eudemus, but for which a 
suitable place could hardly be 
found in this dialogue, seems to 
me to come from it. We cannot, 
however, regard this little piece, 
with its Pythagoreanism and 
copious style, as Aristotle s work. 

2 Of which account is given 
Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 795. BELGEB, De 
Arist. in Arte Poetica componcnda 
Platonis discipulo, gives a full 
and careful account of the points 
in which Aristotle s theory of 
art agrees with Plato s, and those 

in which it differs from it. 

3 BJiet. \. 9, 1366, a, 33 : 
Ka\bv /J.GV ovv eVrlz/ 5 av 5i avrb 
aiperbi ^ov eVati/erbj ?}, i) ft kv 
ayaOov ~bv r,5v ?J, on ayaQov. ii. 
13, 1389, b, 37 : rb KzAbv as dis 
tinguished from rb (rv/uQepov or 
that which is good for the indivi 
dual is the cbrAws aya66v. Of the 
numberless passages in which 
rb Ka\bv is used of moral beauty, 
i.e. of goodness, several have 
already come before us, e.g. p. 
149, n. 3, p. 151, n. 2, and 
p. 192, n. 6, supra. We can 
not find, however, in Aristotle 
(as P. REE, ToD /caAou notio 
in Arist. Etli. Halle, 1875, 
attempts to do) any more accu 
rate definition of this concep 
tion ; neither in the ethical nor 
in the aesthetic field does he 
seem to have felt the need of 
such definition. 



goodness a wider conception, for while the term good 
is applied only to certain actions, beauty is predicated 
also of what is unmoved and unchangeable. 1 As the 
essential marks of beauty he indicates, at one time 
order, symmetry and limitation, 2 at another right size 3 
and order. 4 And yet how vague the conception of 
beauty is still left, and especially how remote is held to 
be its relation to sensible appearance, is obvious above 
all from the assertion 5 that it is chiefly in the mathe- 

1 Metaph. xiii. 3, 1078, a, 31 : 
evrel 8e TO ayaQbv Kal TO Ka\bv 
tTCpov, TO juej/ yap del eV 7rpaei, TO 
8e al eV TO?S aKivfjTois. Accord 
ingly Mathematics (whose object, 
according to p. 183, is the un 
moved) has to deal in a special 
sense with the beautiful. Ari 
stotle applies, indeed, good as 
well as beautiful to the deity, 
who is absolutely unmoved (cf. 
p. 397, n. 3, and p. 404, supra), as 
he attributes to Him irpais in the 
wider sense (vol. i. p. 400, n.l,ad 
///?,). But this does not justify us in 
converting the passage before u 
(as TEICHMULLER does, Arist. 
borsch, ii. 209, 255 sqq.) into the 
opposite of its plain sense. It 
offers merely a further proof of 
the uncertainty of Aristotle s 
language with reference to TO 
aya8bv and TO /caAoV. In Metaph. 
xiii. 3 he is thinking only of good 
in the ethical sense. 

2 Metaph. iUd. 1. 36^: ToO 5e 
/coAoG /j.yio~Ta e<f57j Tats Kal 
<rv/j./J.Tpia Kal TO wpiff^vov. The 
e?57j here are not different kinds 
of beauty, but the forms or 
qualities of things in which 
beauty reveals itself. How 
these points of view are main 
tained in Aristotle s rules of art 

is shown by MULLER, p. 9 sqq., 
who compares also Probl. xix. 
38, xvii. 1. 

3 Practically identical with 
TO oj/no-yueVoj/, as DORING rightly 
observes, p. 97. 

4 Poet. 7, 1450, b, 36 (cf. 
Pol. vii. 4, 1326, a, 29 sqq. b, 22 ; 
see p. 259, n. 1, supra, also Etli. iv. 
3, 1123, b, 6): TO yap Ka\bv ev 

Kal Ta|et eo Tl, Sib ofae 
av TI yevoiro /coAoi/ <#ov 
, yap i) Oeoopia eyyvs TOV 
avaiffQiiTov XP OVOV yivo/j.zvr]) OVTC 
ov yap a/j.a 7] dzovplc 
yivfTat, ctAA olf^eTai TO?S dewpovff, 
TO ej> Kal TO 6\ov e/c TTJS decapias, 
olov et fj.vpi(ov ffTaSicav ei rj j 
As a visible object must be easily 
taken in by the eye by virtue 
its size, so a my thus must be 
easy to retain. The parenthesis 
(" u 7X 6 ^ Tat 7"P> &c.) means : if 
an object is too small, its parts 
become merged in each other, 
and no clear picture of it is pos 
sible. It is probable that xp vov 
after avaiarO^Tov has crept into 
the text from Phys. iv. 13, 222, 
b, 15 (see BONITZ, Arist. Stud. 
i. 96 ; SUSEMIHL, in loco). 

5 Metaph. ibid. 1078, b, 1. 
In reply to TEICHMULLER S 
objections to the above remark 


matical sciences that the above characteristics find 
their application. If beauty is a quality not less of 
a scientific investigation or a good action than of a 
work of art, it is too vague a concept to serve as the 
foundation of a philosophy of art. Aristotle accord 
ingly at the beginning of the Poetics sets it wholly 
aside, 1 and starts from the consideration of the nature 
of Art. 2 The essence of art Aristotle, like Plato, finds, 
generally speaking, to be imitation. 3 It has its origin 

(Arist ForscJi. ii. 275 sq ), SUSE- starting point in his theorv of 
MiHL (Jahrb. f. PhiloL cv. p. art, Aristotle would have de- 
321) has pointed out the con- voted himself before everything 
fusion between the concrete else to its closer investigation 
phenomena of sense (e.g. colours, and would have used the result 
sounds, &c.) and the abstract, of this investigation as the 
mathematical forms of sensible criterion of the claims of art, 
exis , te r p. ce - This, however, he does not do 
^ The words here used, irS>s and while, of course, he de- 
Set ffwlffraffQai TOVS pvdovs, et mands of a work of art that it 
^eAAei K a\&s Ifetj/ ^ irofyo-w should be beautiful, while he 
(TEICHMULLER, ii. 278), are of speaks of a KA, ** avL a 
course no argument against this ^Mos /eoAAiW, a /caAAW^ rpay 
view. It is hardly necessary to V 5ia, &c. (Poet. c. 9 fin c 11 
point out that such expressions 1452, a, 32, c 13 1452 b 3l 
as m\t Jr X ir, ica\& 5 \4yw, &c . 1453, a, 12, 22, and passim), yet 
(e.g. in Meteor, i. 14, 352, a, 7, he never deduces any rule of art 

IK i lit :- iv - 14 1297 b 38; from the universal conception of 

jfowh. xin. 6 init. ; Etli. vii. 13, beauty, but rather from the spe- 

and innumerable other passages), cial aim of a particular art 

i have nothing to do with the 3 Poet. i. 1447 a 12 fon the 

1 specifically aesthetic meaning of different forms of poetry and 

I TO KaAoV. TYlnCM /^ . _^ : 

Tn^ " a yxov<r tj , oa-cu 

IEICHMULLER, indeed, m furffffis rb abvoKov. G 2 init 

a detailed discussion of beauty c. 3 init. and of ten. In the words 

i and the four aesthetic ideas Phys. ii. 8, 199, a, 15 C 6\ws re I 

I (order, symmetry, limitation and r4 x ^ rh ^ eV^reAer & * A^J 

( size), ibid. p. 208-278, has at r 

I tempted to show that Aristotle s fju^Trai, art is used as fine art It 

theory of art is based upon the is mere imitation, but it mav J 

conception of beauty. This indeed, be also regarded as a 

j attempt, however, is rightly dis- perfecting of nature, as in the 

credited by BOEING, p. 5 sqq. training of the voice or deport- 

;93, sqq. If the abstract con- ment 

iception of beauty had been his 



in the imitative instinct and the joy felt in its exercise 
which distinguishes man above all other creatures ; 
hence also the peculiar pleasure which art affords. 1 In 
this pleasure, springing as it does from the recognition 
of the object represented in the picture and from the 
enjoyment thus obtained, Aristotle further recognises 
an intimation of the universal desire for knowledge. 2 
But as knowledge is of very different value accord 
ing to the nature of the object known, 3 this will of 
necessity be true of artistic imitation also. The object 
of imitation in art is, generally speaking, nature or the 
actual world of experience. 4 But nature includes man 
and his actions ; indeed, it is with man alone that the 
most impressive arts viz. poetry and music have to 
do ; 5 and the object which it is the essential aim of the 
imitative artist to represent consists not merely of the 
outward appearance of things, but to a much greater 

1 Poet. 4 init., where it is 
added: this is obvious from the 
fact that good pictures delight 
us even when the objects repre- 
sented produce themselves quite 
the opposite impression: as in 
the case of loathsome animals 
or corpses. Cf. foil. n. 

- Poet. 4, 1448, b, 12, Ari- 
stotle continues: ainov 5e /cat 
roiirov [joy in works of art], ort 
rb u.av0dveiv ov fj.6vov TO?S QiXoffo- 
(hois Wiffrov, d\Xa K ul rols oAAots 
Lotos aAA eVl Ppa x v Koivuvotviv 
alrov 5ta yap TOVTO X alpw T s 
et/coVas opavTes, on crvpfalvei 
vras pw6A.veiv K*l avXXoyi- 
T L tKiffTOV, olov OTI OVTOS 
S, eVet lav ^ rvxy irpoecop- 
a/cobs, ov 5ta /xijiwj/ia iro^ffei T^V 
aAAa 8ia rijv dirfpyatriav 

jj T^V xp iav ) ia roiavr-nv nva 
&\\-nv alrlav. Ehet.i. 11, 1371, b, 
4 : iirel 8e rb pavedveiv re jfib Kal 
TO davud&iv, /cat ra rotaSe dvd-yicii 
rjSe a elvai olov TO re ^e^r^eW, 
wo-Trep ypa<f>i^ ical dvopiavToiroita 
ita.1 TTOLTJTIK^, ital ^irav ft &i/ eu 
^ejujMj/ieW f?, Kav jfytfj *j5S owrb rb 
pejjuw[j.evov ov yap eirl TOVTQ 
x a! V e > " Aiv " ffv\\oyi(T^6s itrnv 
on. TOVTO e /ceti/o, #(rre 

3 Cf. p. 303, n. 3, supra. 

4 Pkys. ii. 8 : see p. 303, n. 3. 

5 Cf - fo11 - n - and P a e Even 
of the art of dancing it is said, i 

c. 1. 1447, a, 27 : /cai yap OVTOI 
oia TUV o x^aTtCo^f^ 

Kal ijOr] /cat 7ra07j 



degree of their inner intelligible essence. He may 
confine himself to what is universal and actual, or he 
ay rise above it. or he may sink below it. 1 He may 
represent things as they are, or as they are commonly 
supposed to be, or as they ought to be. 2 It is in re 
presentations of this last kind that the chief function 
of art consists. Art according to Aristotle must re 
present not the individual as such, but the universal, 
the necessary and the natural. It must not be content 
to reflect naked reality but must idealise it. The 
painter, for instance, must both be true to his subject 
and improve upon it ; 3 the poet must tell us, not what 
has been, but what must be according to the nature of 
the case, and on this account Aristotle prefers poetry to 
history, as higher and more nearly allied to philo 
sophy, seeing that it reveals to us not only individual 
facts but universal laws. 4 And this holds not only of 

1 Poet. 2 itlit. . eVei Se fju- 
fjiovvrai ol jutjuou/xej- oi Trparrovras, 

e rovrovs ?} ffirovSaiovs 7) 
Aous elva: . . . fjroi /UeArt o^as 
KaQ TOMS 1) x f i P vas % Ka -l 
VTOVS, which Aristotle pro- 
ds to illustrate from painting, 
try, and music. 

2 Ibid. 25, 14GO, b, 7: rei 
eVn /X^UTJT^S 6 Troirjrr/s, (ixnrep 

ei faypdcpos 77 ris &AAos ft/coz/o- 
, avdyKri /J.ifj.e icrdai rpiwv ovr<av 
rbv apiOfMbv eV rt aei ^ yap oia i\v /) 
, /} oia (j>acrl Kal 5o/ce?, 3) ofa ef^at 
Set. We may regard these words 
as genuine, although they stand 
in n rather suspicious section. 

3 Poet. 15, 1454, b, 8 : eWi 5e 
fiJififlffis tany 7; TpaywSia ^eATfoVcoi/, 
T)[j.cis 8e? fj.i/.L^lo daL TOVS ayaOovs 
fiKoi oypd(povs Kal yap 


rrjv iSiav 

opoiovs iroiovvres, fca\\iovs 
ypd<povffiv. The idealism of 
the Greek statues of the gods 
did not, of course, escape the 
philosopher s notice ; cf. vol. ii. 
p. 217, n. 5, sujtra. 

4 Pot t. 9 if tit. : oil rb ra yi- 
v6fj.eva \eyeiv, rovro iroir)Tov Hpyov 
fa-T-lv, dAA oTa fa yevoiro, Kal TO. 
Svi/ara Kara rb eiKbs fy TO avay- 
Kalov. d yap iffropiKbs Kal 6 Troir)Trjs 
ov r$ e^er/ja Ae^eij/ $ a/nerpa 
Siaipepovffiv 6^77 yap av ra HpoSd- 
TOV els perpa Te0vjj/cu, Kal ouSej/ 
i]TTov "av 6i?j io~ropia TIS 
/uerpou 3) aj/eu /jLerpcav, aAAa 

T OV Se oia &* yevoiro. Sib 
Kal (f>L\oaro(j)coTepov Kal (rirouSaio- 
repov Troirjcris IffTOplas ecrriV 77 yuev 



serious poetry but also of comic. The former in 
bringing before us forms which transcend ordinary 
limits must give us an ennobled picture of human 
nature, for it must represent typical characters in whom 
the true nature of certain moral qualities is sensibly 
exhibited to us ; 1 but the latter also, although dealing 
necessarily with the weaknesses of human nature, 2 
must nevertheless make it its chief end not to attack 
individuals but to present types of character. 3 While, 

yap 7T0i7}<m yiiaAAoi/ ra KadoAov, r\ 
5 Iffropia ra K-afl e/cao-TOJ/ Ae^et. 
<rri 8e Ka06\ov fj.ev, r< iroi(f ra 
iroT drra (rv/j-paivei \eyew T) irpdr- 
reiv TO eiKbs ?) TO avayKouov 
. . . ra 8e Ka.Q 1 tKao~rov, Tt AA/a- 
PidoTis tTTpaev vj ri ZvaOev. Ibid. 
Ii51, b, 21) : Kav apa ffvuprj yev6- 
Troien/ [rbv TroiTjrV] vd * v 
TTOWJT^JS fffrtv rui> yap 
tvta ovSev KcoAuei TOiavra 
oTa av ej/cos yevfff6ai Kal 
Svvara yfVfffBat. Cf. C. 15, 1454, 
a, 33 : XPV 5 ^ Kai e " T0 s tf d r fflv 
uxnrep Kal fv rf) ruv irpay^dTuv 
(rvffrdatL, aet (VjTetj/ ^) rb avayKa iov 
I) rb ekbs, O>O-T rbi/ TOLOVTOV ra 
roiavra Xeyeiv % irpdrrsiv T) avay- 
KCUOV ^ ei/cbs, /cat TOUTO ^era TOUTO 
ylvearBai % avayKalov^i elic6s. C. 1, 
1447, b, i:> sqq.: it is not the 
metre bat the content that makes 
the poet. Empedocles (whose 
Homeric power Aristotle praises 
in Dwg. viii. 56) has nothing but 
the metre in common with Homer. 
1 Poet. 15 (see p. 305, n. 3, 
supra), Aristotle continues: 
Kal rbv iroif]r^v (llpoupevov 
opy i^ovs Kal padv/jLOVS Kal ra\\a ra 

2 C. 2 Jin. : T) fifv yap [comedy] 
T] 8e /SeArious /j.i/j.e io Oai 
i r<av vvv. C. 5 init. . T] 


Kara iraaav /ca/ciaz/, oAAa rov 

iroietv irapd^y^a 1) 
ffK\-nporf}ros 5eT &c. Cf . following 
note and c. 13, 1453, a, 1G. 

al<rxpov earl rb 

yap ye\otov eanv afj.dpr^/j.d n Kal 

cticTYOS avwfivvov Kal o 

3 Cf. Poet. 9, 1451, b, 11 sqq. 
c. 5, 1449, b, 5; Eth. iv. 14, 1128, 
a, 22. Aristotle here gives the 
New Comedy the preference over 
the Old because it refrains from 
abuse (alffxpoKoyia). He gives 
Homer, moreover, the credit 
(Poet. 4, 1448, b, 34) of being 
creator, in the character of Mar- 
gites, of comedy, ov \l/6yov dAAo 
rb yeXolov Spa/uLaroiroi^ffas. The 
Poetirg are doubtless the source 
(cf. vol. i. p. 102, n. 2) of the re 
mark in CRAMER S Anecd. Paris. 
Append. I. (Arist. Poet. p. 78; 
V AHL. p. 208 ; Fr. 3 Sus.): 
7] KocfAySia TTJS AotSopios, eTret r\ 
AoiSopio airapaKaXvirrus ra Trpoff- 
ovra KaKa fiiffcfio iv, r\ 8e Selrai 
rTJs Ka\ov/j.vr)s [j.<pdo-ws [indica 
tion]. To this subject belongs 
the remark in Rhet. iii. 18, 1419, 
b, 7, where it is said that etpcoveio 
is more worthy of the freeman 
than /3a>/xoAoxia. This also had 



therefore, Plato and Aristotle agree in regarding art 
as a species of imitation, they draw very different con 
clusions from this account of it. Plato thinks of it only 
as the imitation of sensible phenomena and accordingly 
expresses the utmost contempt for the falsity and 
worthlessness of art ; 1 Aristotle, on the other hand, 
looks upon artistic presentation as the sensible 
vehicle to us of universal truths and thus places 
it above the empirical knowledge of individual things. 

We are now in a position to explain what Aristotle 
says about the aim and the effect of Art, In 
two passages 2 to which we have already had occa 
sion to refer, he distinguishes four different uses of 

been particularly treated of by 
Aristotle in the Poetics (Rhet. i. 
11, 1372, a, 1 : 5idpi(rrat 5e irspl 
yeXoiccvxwpls eV rots irepl TrotTjTt/ojs : 
cf. VAHLEX, ibid. p. 76 ; Fr. 2), 
from which must come Fr. 9 of 
the Aneod. Paris, ibid. : fidy 
/cw/i(>;as rd re ySatyioAd^a Kal rd 
elpwviKa Kal ra ru>v aXa^oviav. 

1 See Ph. d. 6fr. i. p. 799 a 
view which is not consistent with 
the fact that art is at the same 
time regarded as one of the most 
important means of education 
whose function is the presentation 
of moral ideas (ibid. p. 532 sq. 
772 sq. 800 sq; cf. tiyntp. 209 

2 Pol. viii. 5, 7, see p. 266, 
supra. In the former of these 
passages no mention is made of 
purification ; it is merely asked 
(1339, a, 15) : rivos 5e? xdpiv 


eVe/ca Kal avairaiHrtias ... ?) p.aXXov 
onjre of Trpbs dperi]v n rz ivsiv ryv 
fMovffiKrjv, us SwaueVrii/ . . rb 

lidos iroiov n Troie?v, eQifyvauv 8v- 
vacrQou -^aip^iv opduis. 7) Trpbs Sia- 
yooyrjVTi {rv^aAAerai Kal (ppovr]<Tii> 
Kal yap rovro rpirov Qtrtov rSiv 
eipiffjievwif. On the other hand it 
is very definitely referred to in 
the second (1341. b, 36) : ( 
8 ou fjLias eVe/cej/ o|)eAeias rrj 
5eTv aAAa Kal 

Kal KaOdpcreus . . . rp nov 
5e irpbs Siay&yTiv, irpbs ai/fffiv re 
Kal irpbs TT]V TTJS avvTOvias ai dirav- 
<riv). JJut, on this account, to 
change the text of the latter 
passage with SPENGEL (Ueber 
die Kadapffis r&v TradTfjuaTcai/, AbJi. 
der jjhilos.-philol. Kl. der Bo^ijr. 
Altad. ix. 1, 16 sq.), and to read : 
Kal- yap TrcuSei as ej/e/ce^ Kal Kaddp- 
<rea>s, . . . Trpbs Siaycayrjv, rpirov 
5e Trpbs &veffiv re &c. or K. y. TrcuS. 
eV. K. Kaddpff., irpbs aveaiv re 
avdiTavaiv, rp nov Se Trpbs Siaywyyi/, 
is a violent expedient against 
which BERN AYS (Rhein. Mits. 
xiv. 1859, p. 370 sqq.) rightly 
x 2 



music 1 : it serves (i) as a relaxation and amusement ; 
(ii) as a means of moral culture ; (iii) as an enjoyable exer 
cise ; and (iv) as a purifying influence. Whether each 
form of art has this fourfold function or not, he does not 
expressly say ; nor could he in any case have regarded 
them as all alike in this respect. Of the plastic arts he re 
marks that their ethical effect, although considerable, is 
inferior to that of music, 2 while he probably hardly 
thought of attributing a purifying influence to them. 
Where they confine themselves to the exact imitation 
of particular objects, they serve in his view no higher 
purpose than the satisfaction of a rather shallow 

protests. The first of these pro 
posals is hardly permissible, even 
from the point of view of style, 
while neither of them finds any 
support in the alleged contra 
diction between c. 5 and c. 7, as 
it is not unfrequently the case in 
Aristotle that a preliminary divi 
sion is supplemented in the sequel 
(cf . e.g. what is said, vol. i. p. 400, 
sqq., on the different classifica 
tions of constitution) ; both, more 
over, are inconsistent with the 
distinction between edifying and 
purifying music, as that is defi 
nitely set forth in c. 7, and calls 
for immediate notice. 

1 ISot merely three, as BEE- 
NAYS ibid, represents by taking 
avdiravffis and tiay^ together. 
Aristotle differentiates the two 
very clearly: young people, he 
s-ays, are incapable of Siaywyr), 
whereas they are very much 
inclined to iraiSia and foeais (see 
vol. ii. p. 267, n. 1, supra) ; the 
former is an end in itself [re Aos], 
the latter a mere means (c. 5, 
1339, a, 29, b, 25-42 ; cf. Eth, x. 6, 

1176, b, 27 sqq. p. 140, supra} ; 
the former presupposes a higher 
culture (see p. 309, n. 3, infra}, 
not so the latter: and accordingly 
they are completely separated 
from one another, 1339, a, 25, b, 
13, 15 sqq., ibid. 4; cf. a, 33. 
Cf. p. 266, n. o, supra. 

2 Pol. viii. 5, 1340, a; 28: 
5e ru>v alffOlJT&V ei> fj.ev 


(i.e. moral 

olov fv TO?S airro^s Kal 
ff rots oparo is 
yap tan roiavra 
attitudes and ges 

tures), a\\ eirl p.iKpbv K 
[read ov Traces, as MULLEB ibid. 
10 sq. 348 sqq. conjectures] TTJS 
TOiavrrjs cuVflrjorews KOIVWVOVCTIV. ert 
8e OVK ecrri ravra o/u,o 

TWV W&v. Nevertheless, young 
men ought not, oaov 9ia$4pci Kal 
Trepl T\\V TOVTWV Bewplav, to be 
allowed to study the pictures of 
a Pauson but those of a Poly- 
gliotus Kav ejf TIS a\\os r&v ypatyewv 


curiosity. 1 Nor does he seem to expect from Comedy 
(on which see below) either morally edifying or purify 
ing results. On the other hand, the purification of the 
emotions is the chief end, as we shall see, of serious 
poetry, although that art is not, of course, thereby ex 
cluded from exercising upon the hearer other effects as 
well which are either connected with or flow from the first. 
Granted that a part of this effect viz. the amusement 
is due to the pleasure derived from sensible appear 
ance, yet the higher and more valuable portion is due 
to that ideal content which, according to Aristotle, it is 
the function of Art to present. As a means to nobler 
intellectual enjoyment (Siaywyr)) the higher poetry 
must appeal to our reason, since according to Aristotelian 
principles the measure of our rational activity is also the 
measure of our happiness ; 2 and, as a matter of fact, 
Aristotle regards this purifying effect of art as standing 
in the closest relation to intellectual culture. 3 In like 
manner poetry can only serve for moral edification by 
exhibiting to us the nature and aim of moral action in 
examples that excite our admiration or abhorrence, as 
Aristotle holds it ought undoubtedly to do. 4 Finally, 
as to the purifying effect of Art, we must admit 

1 Of. vol. ii. p. 304, n. 2, sup. that (ppovrjffis would not belong 

2 See the quotations from to Siayuyij but to the previously 
Eth. x. 8, sup. vol. ii. p. 143,n. 1. mentioned dperTj. This, however, 

3 In the words quoted from is incorrect. By aperf Aristotle 
P0Z.viii.5,p. 307, n. 2, supra: irpbs means moral virtue, the training 
tiiaywyfiv rt <rvfj.fid\\eTat Kal typo- of character ; by Siaywy^ /col 
vT}aiv. SPENGEL, ibid. p. 16, and typ6vn<ns, the training of the in- 
independently of him THUROT, tellect and the taste. Cf. what 
Etudes sur Arist. 101, propose to was said about Siaywy^j supra, 
read, instead of q>p6vr\(riv, eixppo- vol. ii. p. 266, n. 5. 

7vvi]v (or Tbev<ppaiveiv), remarking 4 See p. 304 sq. 



that to this day, after all the endless discussions to which 
Aristotle s definition of Tragedy has given rise, 1 no 
agreement has been arrived at upon the question 
wherein, according to his view, it consists and what are 
the conditions of its production. This is, however, the 
less extraordinary, since in the extant portion of the 
Poetics the fuller discussion of purification contained in 
the original work is missing, 2 though the want may be 
partly supplied from other passages. These show, in the 
first place, that the purification of the emotions which 
is effected by art takes place not in the work of art itself, 
but in those who see or hear it. 3 We further learn that 
the immediate object is not, as was formerly supposed, 4 

1 For a review of these see 
SUSEMIHL, Arist. TT. TTotrjr. p. 36 
sqq. and elsewhere (see p. 300, 
n. 1) ; KEINKENS, p. 78-135, and 
DOEING, p. 2G3 sqq. 339 sq. ; the 
last discusses some seventy 
es?ays and treatises bearing on 
the subject, most of them written 
within the previous fifteen years. 

2 See supra, vol. i. p. 102, n. 2. 

3 GOETHE (Naclilese zu Arist. 
Poetili, 1826; Brief weclisel <niit 
Zeltcr, iv. 288, v. 330, 354) ex 
plained the words 5t eAeou Kal 
(pofiov irepaivovrra Ti]v T&V roiovrccv 
Tra9r]/J.druv uddapffiv in the defi 
nition of tragedy, Poet. 6, 1449, 
b, 24 sqq. as referring to the 
tranquillising effect upon the 
actors themselves. This expla 
nation, however, is now univer 
sally acknowledged to be inad 
missible (e.(j. by MULLEE. ibid. 
380 sqq.; BEEN T AYS, ibid. 137; 
SPENGEL, ibid: 6). Apart from 
the linguistic difficulty, Pol. viii. 
7, 1342, places beyond a doubt 

that the Kadapvis is effected in 
the audience, and the same may 
be proved, as MULLEE well shows, 
from the Poetics; for it could be 
said that tragedy, through fear 
and pity, effects a purification of 
these emotions in the actors only 
on condition that they came upon 
the stage in a condition of fear 
or pity, which (as LESSING, 
Hanib. Dram at. 78 St. has re 
marked) is by no means usually, 
and in the circumstances cannot 
possibly often be, the case. Ari 
stotle, however, has expressed 
himself on this point as clearly 
as possible, c. 14 init. AeT yap 
[he says in treating of the produc 
tion of the (pofiepbv and eAeeti/br] 
Kal avev rov Spav OVTW (Tweffrdvai 
rbv fj.vQov (iiffre TOV anovovra TO. 
irpa.yij.ara yiv6jJ(.Gva Kal (ppirreiv Kal 
eAeetV e/c TU>V <ruyiij3cuj/(Wa>j/. 

4 Thus LESSING, with all pre 
vious writers, Hamb. Dram. 7 1-78 
St. ( Werke, vii. 3c2 sqq. Lachm.): 
this purification depends on 



moral improvement, but primarily the production of 
an effect upon the emotions. Aristotle himself defi 
nitely distinguishes between purification and moral 
culture as separate aims : 1 he would use for the latter as 
opposed to the former a style of music which is wholly 
different and requires different treatment. 2 He describes 
purification, moreover, as a species of healing and as n 

nothing else than the trans 
formation of the passions into 
promptitudes to virtue (p. 352). 
He has been followed by many 
others, e.g. SPENGEL in the 
treatise referred to, p. 307, n. 2, 

1 Pol. viii. 7, 1341, b, 36, see 
mpra <?. 6, 1341, a, 21 . ert 8 OVK 

opyiao~riKuv, &o~re Trpbs rovs roiov- 
rovs avrif Kaipovs xpr]o-rov eV ois 
f) Oecopia KaOapffiv /j.a\\ov Svvarai 

yidov(Ti TT?I> \l/vx V /ue Aecrt, 
Jifvovs uxrirep larpeias rv- 
Kal ita6dp(Tfcas. ravrb 877 
rovro avayKalov ira.ff-%* iv Ka ^ TOUS 
f\ff]/u.ovas Kal rovs (pofirjriKovs Kal 
rovs 6\a)S Tra0Tf]riKovs [the MSS. 
reading for which Spengel un 
necessarily suggests #Aws rovs 
7nx0.], rovs 8 a\\ovs Ka0 ocrov eVi- 
/3aAAet ru>v roLovrcov eitdcrrw, Kal 
Traffi yiyveffdai riva KaQapffiv Kal 

- See preceding n. and c. 7. 
1341, b, 32 : since we must dis 
tinguish a moral, a practical and 
an exciting and inspiring kind of 
music, and since further music 
has to serve the different ends 
stated at p. 307, n. 2, there 
fore (f>ai pbi> ori xprjGreov 
iraffais rals ap/j.oviais, ov rbv 
avrbv 8e rp6irov irdtrais xprjo Teoi/, 
oAAa irpbs jjikv rijv TraiSeiav ra"is 
yQiKcardrais Trpbs 8e aKpoao~iv trzpwv 

av Ka ras Trpa.itriKas 
Kal raTs evOovcnaffTiKais. l b yap Trfpl 

pus, rovro eV Trdffais vTrdpx.ei, rip Se 
yrrov Stac^epet Kal rw ^taAAov [there 
does not seem to be any reason 
to doubt these words with REIN- 
KENS, p. 156], olov eAeos Kal (pofios, 
ert 8 evdov(nacr/ji.6s. Kal yap inrb 
ravrTjs TTJS Kivficrecas Ka 
rives elcriv K Se rwv iepwv /j.e\ 
rovrovs, orav x 

ra jUe ATj ra KadapriKa vrape^ei 
d/3Aa/3f; rols avdpwirois. 
(This is a further effect of purify 
ing music, different from the KO.- 
Gapcris itself : it purifies the TraOr]- 
riKol and affords enjoyment to 
all ; the lacuna therefore which 
THUROT, Etudes , 102 sq. surmises 
before 6/j.oia>s 8e cannot be ad 
mitted.) From this passage, 
(however we may interpret its 
general meaning) this at any rate 
seems obvious, that according to 
Aristotle there is a kind of music 
which produces a catharsis, 
although it possesses no ethical 
character, and may not, there 
fore, be used in the education of 
the youth, nor practised by the 
citizens, although it may be 
listened to by them namely, 
exciting music ; but if this is so, 
the catharsis, while not without 
an indirect moral influence, 
yet cannot in itself, as re 
garded from the point of view 



mental alleviation accompanied by pleasure, 1 and accord 
ingly looks for it not in any improvement of the will or 
in the production of virtuous inclinations, 2 but in the 
equalisation of disturbances produced by violent emo 
tions and the restoration of equanimity. 3 It is here of less 
importance, in point of actual fact, whether it is the reli 
gious or the medical meaning of purification that is pro 
minent in Aristotle s mind ; 4 since in either case alike we 
are dealing with a figurative expression, in the sense that 
the term does not admit of being transferred literally 
from the one sphere to the other, 5 and we can only decide 

of its immediate effect, consist 
in the production of a definite 
character of will. That this is 
true also of the purification 
effected by tragedy admits of less 
doubt owing to the fact that pre 
cisely those emotions with which 
it has to deal (see infra) are 
here expressly connected with 
excitement, i.e. pity and fear. 

1 See preceding n. Similarly 
in Poet. c. 14, 1453, b, 10 the aim of 
tragic representation, which ac 
cording to c. 6 consists in cathar 
sis, is placed in a pleasure : ov yap 
iraffav Se? ^-rjT?v rjSov^v omb rpayw- 
5tas, aAAa Trjv oliteiav. firel 8e TT\V 
curb eAe ou Kal tyoftov Sta /jn^aeus 
Se? ^Soi/ /jv Trapa.a Ktvdfcu TOV TTOITJ- 
rfy, &C. 

2 Viz, xaipew opQws Kal Ainre?- 
ffOcu,.Pol. viii. 5, 1340, a, 15, 22; 
seep. 266, supra. 

* This is the sense in which 
many writers in antiquity took 
purification, e.g. ARISTOXENUS 
(Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 714), Ps. JAMBL. 
Myster. Ae-gypt. p. 22, PKOKL. in 
Plat. Hemp. (Plat. Opp. Basil. 
1534) p. 360, 362, PLUT. Sept. 
Sap. Conv. c. 13, p. 156 c. 

Quast. comiv. III. 8, 2, 11, p. 
657 A ; cf. BEBNAYS, Grundzuge 
der Verlorenen Abhandlung d. 
Arist. uber Wirkung der Tra- 
godie (Abk. der Hist.-pliHos. 
Gesettschaft in Breslau 1. 1858), 
p. 155 sqq. 199. ; id. Ueler die 
trag. Katharsls lei Arist. (Rhein. 
Mvs. xiv. 374 sq.) 

4 After Bockh had indicated, 
in 1830 ( Ges. Id. Schriften, i. 180), 
this reference in uddapcris to 
medical purgation it was taken 
up first by A. WEIL (Ueb. d. 
Wirlcung der Trag. nacli Arist. 
Vcrhandl. der 10. Vers. dcut seller 
Philologcn, Bale, 1848, p. 136 
sqq.), more fully and indepen 
dently of his predecessors by 
Bernays in the treatises men 
tioned in preceding note which 
go deeply into this question. 
These were followed by THUROT, 
Etudes, 104, and many others ; 
cf. DOEING, ibid. 278 sqq. who 
likewise resolutely defends this 
view, ibid. p. 248 sqq. 

5 On the other hand it cannot 
be supposed that Aristotle uses 
the word a0ap<m, which he had. 
coined to express a definite effect 



how far he means to extend the analogy contained in it 
by a reference to other passages and to the whole scope 
of his doctrine. It seems probable that he took /cdOap- 
o-is. as we might use c purgation, in the first instance to 
mean the expulsion from the body of burdensome or inju 
rious matter, 1 but that inasmuch as he was here dealing 
with the application of this conception to states of the 
emotions, he came to connect with it, as he went on, the 
idea of deliverance from pollution and spiritual disease as 
well 2 just as in general one readily combines notions 
connected with the same expression in a confused com 
pound without clearly discriminating them from one 

of artistic representation, in the 
Politics of music in a different 
sense from that in which in the 
Poetics he employs it of tragedy, 
nor does Pol. viii. 7, 1341, b, 38 
give the remotest justification to 
the presumption that the tragic 
catharsis is specifically different 
from the musical. The one may be 
produced by different means from 
the other, but the effect indicated 
by KaCapa-is must itself in both 
cases be essentially the same, 
unless we are to attribute to 
Aristotle a confusion of terms 
which is wholly misleading. 
STAHR, Arist. tind die Wirk. d. 
Trag. p. 13 sq. 21 sq., does not 
sufficiently distinguish between 
these two. 

1 Aristotle s own expressions, 
Polit. viii. 7, 1342, a, 10, 14 : 
Sxnrep larpeias rvx^vras Kal KaOdp- 
trews . . . irafft yiyvecrdai nva KaO- 
apaiv Kal Kov(piecrdaL pet) rjSovyjs, 
the remark in Ps. JAMBL. Do 
Mijst. i. 11 that the emotions 
(Svvdpeis TuvTraOrj/ndruv) a.7roir\r]p- 
ovvrai Kal ivrevQev aTTOKa9aip6/u.- 
vai , . . aTroTraiWrai, and in PROCL. 

iii Remp. 362 that Aristotle 
objects to Plato that he was 
wrong in forbidding tragedy and 
corned} , enrep Sia TOVTUV Svvarbv 
ffj-perpus a7T07n,U7rAaycu TO. TrdO-rj Kal 
a.TCOTT\rj(Ta.vTas tvepya, trpbs TT]V TTQU- 
Setaz/ e^ezi/, rb TTirovr]Kbs avroov 
depaTreva-avTcts all point to this. 

- According to Polit. viii. fi, 
1341, a, 21, orgiastic music is in 
place eV OLS f) Qewpta [the repre 
sentation] KaOapcriv /ua\\ov Svvarai 
/) fj.dOti(Tiv, and c. 7, 13t2, a, 1) 
mrpemjind KaQapvis are attributed 

A definite kind of religious music 
is therefore compared in its effect 
with medical purgation. Aris 
totle seems also to have employed 
the word afpoa-iwcris, which refers 
to the cancelling of transgressions 
by offerings and other religious 
acts, to express the same effect. 
PROCL. Hid. p. 360 represents him 
as asking Plato why he rejected 
tragedy and comedy, Kal Tavra 
<TWT\ov(ras irpbs cKpofficacriv Tcai/ 
7ra0wj/,andreplyinghimself,p. 362, 
that it is not true that they serve 



another. This very notion of purgation, moreover, was 
one in which the ancients were unable to keep the ideas of 
healing and expiation distinct from one another. 1 All the 
more, however, are we bound to investigate the question 
as to the internal processes which according to Aristotle 
are the means and condition of the purification effected 
by art. So much we learn from his own utterances, that 
the purification consists in deliverance from some 
dominating excitement of passion or overwhelming 
mental depression ; 2 and accordingly we must under 
stand by the expression in the first instance not 3 any 
purification within the soul of permanent affections, but 
the removal from it of unhealthy ones. 4 When we ask 

1 Whoever is possessed of 
enthusiasm or any other violent 
and enslaving emotion which 
presses on him as a burden is 
KctTaKdaxwos, as Ai istotle ex 
presses it, Pol viii. 7, 1342, a, 8. 
KaraKcaxTl or KUTOKUX^, however, 
is originally conceived of as Beta 
KaTOKwx^l, fr m which deliverance 
is to be obtained by reconcilia 
tion with God, the malady is a 
divine visitation, the cure is the 
result of propitiation (cf . PLATO, 
Pheedr. 244 Dsq.). 

2 In the words quoted, p. 311, 
n. 2, supra, from Polit. viii. 7, en 
thusiasm is spoken of as a form of 
excitement by which many per 
sons are possessed (jeaTcuc^xijUOi), 
and of which, by means of orgi 
astic music, they are as it were 
cured and purified, and the word 
Kov<pleff6ai is used to express the 
same effect. 

3 As Zeller formerly thought. 

4 The words KaQapais ru>j/ ira- 
8-n/j.dTcav might themselves mean 

either a purification of the emo 
tions or deliverance from them, 
for we may say either KaOaipeiv 
riva Tti/bs, to purify one of some 
thing, or KaOaipeiv r\, to purge 
away a defiling element. Medical 
language adopted this use of the 
word Kddapns from the time of 
Hippocrates (see REINKENS, p. 
151 sq. who follows Foesius). It 
was transferred to the moral 
sphere, e.g. by Plato, in the 
Phcedo 69 B, when he says that 
virtue is itdQapais ris TWV TOIOVTWV 
jravruv a deliverance from plea 
sure, fear, &c. Aristotle himself 
uses KaQapvis in the sense of a 
purifying secretion, e.g. Gen. 
An. iv. 5, 774, a, 1, where he 
speaks of a KaOapvis Kara/j-rivtav, 
ibid. ii. 4, 738, a, 28 of a KdOapau 
rwv (for which, 
1. 27, aw6Kpi<ru is used). These 
examples, combined with the 
passage referred to, n. 2 above, 
make it probable that KdOapffii 
TUV TraOT)p.dr(av means a deliver- 



How does Art effect this removal ? we are told by some 
that it produces this result by engaging and satisfying 
in harmless excitements man s innate need of at times 
experiencing more violent emotions. 1 The peculiar 
character of the effect produced by art is not, however, 
to be thus easily explained. How is it that the cure is 
effected in this case by homoeopathic and not as in other 
cases by allopathic treatment ? 2 And why has the 

ance from Trad-f]/j.ara. This view 
seems indeed inconsistent with 
the terms of the well-known defini 
tion of Tragedy (see p. 320, n. 4, 
infra) in which it is said that it 
effects by pity and fear rV TO>J/ 
roiavT&v jra0rj ( uarojz/ KdOapviv ; for 
it seems as though the emotions 
of pity and fear could not possibly 
be banished by exciting them. 
In answer to this, however, it has 
already been pointed out by 
others (as by BBINKBNS, p. 1 61) 
that the artificially excited emo 
tions of tragic pity and fear serve 
to release us from the emotions 
(already, according to p. 311, n. 2, 
supra, existing in each in weaker 
or stronger form) of a pi ty and fear 
which are called forth by common 
facts, and that this is the reason 
why Aristotle writes ruv TOIOVTWV 
Tradr]/j.dTu>v instead of rovrcav, the 
two kinds of pity and fear 
referred to being related to one 
another, but not identical. (On 
the other hand, the fact that he 
writes TraO-n/ndrcav instead of ira- 
6cav is unimportant, both words, 
as BONITZ, Arist. Stud. 5, H, has 
shown in opposition to BEHNAYS, 
being used by Aristotle as per 
fectly synonymous.) 

1 Thus WEIL, ibid. 1 39 ; but 
even Bernays falls short here 
when he says that the catharsis 

effected by art is a discharge of 
solicited emotions : as purgative 
means produce health in the 
body by the expulsion of un 
wholesome matter, so purifying- 
music produces a soothing effect 
by providing an outlet for the 
ecstatic element in us, c. Cf. 
171, 176, 164 and other passages 
in his treatise of 1858. Similarly 
his successors, e.g. DORING, who 
declares, p. 259, that icd6ap<ns is 
an excretion of diseased matter 
by an increased production of it, 
or rather an acceleration of 
Nature s own heaLng process, 
which is already tending towards 
both these results ; and UEBER- 
WEG, Zeitsehr.f. Phil. L. 33 sqq. 
who says it is a temporary de 
liverance from certain feelings 
(which, according to Ueberweg, 
spring from a normal want) by 
the excitement and indulgence 
of them ; but he overlooks the 
fact that TrdO-n/j-a does not mean 
every possible or even normal 
feeling (still less normal 
wants, p. 33, and Grundr. i. 213; 
see Eng. Tr. Hist, of Phil. vol. i. 
p. 179), but only morbid or 
oppressive moods, and that it is 
only from such that we require to 
be purged. 

2 Eth. ii. 2, 1104, b, 17 of 
punishments: larpeiai yap riffs 


artistic excitement and not any other excitement of the 
emotions the effect of producing peace and purification by 
the expulsion of the morbid matter, whereas the frequent 
recurrence of certain emotions in real life has rather 
the effect of producing an inclination to repeat them ? ] 
Aristotle did not overlook this circumstance ; but if he 
observed it we may be quite sure that he also attempted 
to explain it. And this, as a matter of fact, he has 
done. The catharsis is indeed effected in his view by 
exciting the emotions and is a homoeopathic cure of 
them ; 2 but this effect is not to be expected from all 
excitements indifferently, but only from such as are 
artistic and by artistic Aristotle here means, as we 
clearly gather from his account of tragedy, not that 
which produces the most violent emotion in us, but 
that which produces emotion in the right way. Had 
the artificial catharsis depended in Aristotle s view 
merely upon the excitation of certain emotions and not 
also essentially upon the manner and means of exciting 
them, he must have sought for the criterion of a work 
of art, riot in its contents and their proper treatment, 
but singly and solely in its effect upon the spectators 
This he is far from doing. 3 We are forced, therefore 

elo-iv, ai Se iaTpelai 5ia roav tvavrivv Aristotle cannot reiterate too of ten 

vcQvicaffi yiveffdai. that both the action and the 

1 Gf.JStJt.ii. 1,1103, b, 17 sqq. characters in a tragedy must 

- Tragedy by pity and fear evolve according to the laws of 

effects the purification of these necessity and probability (Poet. 

emotions (Poet. 6) : sacred music 7, 1450, b, 32. Ibid, and c._9, 

by producing in us a state of mental see p. 305, n. 4, supra, c. 10, 14o2, 

excitement effects the cure and a, 18, c. 15,1454, a, 33 sqq.), and 

purgation of excitement (Polit. he blames the poets for abandon- 

viii. 7, 1342, a,4sqq.,cf.c.5,1340, ing the development which is 

a/8 sqq. See p. 311, n. 2, supra), demanded by the nature of the 

3 To mention only one thing, facts out of regard for the taste j 



to look for the reason why, according to Aristotle, the 
excitement of the emotions produced by Art has a 
soothing effect, whereas their excitement in real life is 
followed by no such result, in the peculiar nature of 
artistic representation itself in other words, in that 
which constitutes the generic difference between art 
and reality. The latter presents us only with the par 
ticular, the former with the universal in the particular ; 
in the latter chance largely rules, the former must 
reveal to us in its creations the fixity of law. 1 Aristotle 
certainly nowhere expressly says that this is the reason 
why art exercises a purifying influence ; but if we would 
supplement the mutilated fragments of his theory of art 
which have come down to us in the spirit of the rest of 
his system we can hardly resist this conclusion. Art, 
we should then have to say, purifies and soothes the 
emotions in that it delivers us from such as are morbid or 
oppressive by exciting such as are subordinate to its 
law, directing them, not towards what is merely per 
sonal, but towards what is universal in man, controlling 
their course upon a fixed principle and setting a definite , 
limit to their force. 2 Thus, for example, tragedy in the 
fate of its heroes gives us a glimpse into the universal 
ot of man and at the same time into an eternal law of 
ustice; 3 music calms mental excitement and holds it 

Of the public (c. 9, 1451, b, 33 possible e^erpus airoiriuTr^dvai ra 
sqq. ; cf. C. 13, 1453, a, 30 sqq.). 

1 See p. 301 sq. supra. 3 According to Poet. c. 13. 

2 We have at least a hint of those who pass in it from fortune 
fchis thought in the statement to misfortune must be neither the 
:rom Proclus, cited p. 313, n. 1, wholly innocent nor the wholly 
o the effect that tragedy and bad : they should be characters 
omedy serve as a cure of morbid distinguished neither by merit 
tates of feeling by rendering it nor wickedness, but standing 



spellbound by its rhythm and harmony. 1 Although 
we do not know how Aristotle further developed this 
thought, still we are forced to assume that he expressed 
it somehow. 2 

If we now turn from these general views upon Art 
to the special arts, Aristotle himself provides us with 
different principles according to which they might have 
been classified. All art is imitation, but the means, 
the objects, and the manner of this imitation are different. 
The means of imitation are sometimes colour and form, 

rather above than below the 
common standard of morality 
? o tov eTjTCti, % jSeAT/oyos 

5i apapTiav fieyd\iiv. The tragedy 
must therefore be so constructed 
that we can put ourselves in the 
place of the hero, that we can say 
what happens to him might 
happen to each of us, while at 
the same time we feel that the 
fate which overtakes him is not 
wholly undeserved, but is brought 
on him by his own action, so 
revealing the laws of the moral 
order of the world. KOCK, Ueb. 
d, Arist. Begr.d. Catharsds t lSol, 
p. 11, strangely misunderstands 
the sense of this passage in hold 
ing that the purification of pity 
depends upon the thought that 
we do not need to pity the 
sufferer so immoderately, as he 
does not suffer wholly un 
deservedly; the purification of 
fear, on the conviction that we 
can avoid the misfortunes which 
overtake the hero if we avoid the 
mistake which has brought them 
in its train. If the effect of 
tragedy had consisted for Ari 
stotle in this trite moral applica 

tion he would have recommended 
above all those pieces which he 
so decidedly rejects (ibid. 1453, 
a, 1, 30) those, namely, in which 
great transgressions are punished 
and virtue is rewarded, for in 
these the spectator has the tran- 
quillising sense that he can avoid 
the penalty of transgression and 
reap the reward of virtue in a 
much higher degree. Aristotle 
is aware of the satisfaction which 
these moral reflections give, but 
says (ibid.) that they belong to 
the sphere, not of tragedy, but 
of comedy. 

1 STAHK (Arist. und die 
Wirli. d. Trag. 19 sqq.) curiously 
enough expresses himself as satis 
fied with Bernays explanation on 
this head, and in this way in 
volves himself in the difficulty of 
having to explain the catharsis, 
which Aristotle describes in like 
terms in connection with different 
arts, quite differently in one case 
and in the other. Of. p. 312, n. 5. 

2 In this view Zeller is at one 
with BBANDIS, ii. b, 1710 sqq. iii. 
163 sqq. and SUSEMIHL (Arist. 
IT. TronjT. 43 sqq.). 


sometimes the voice, sometimes words, harmony, and 
rhythm ; these means, moreover, are sometimes em 
ployed singly, at other times several of them are com- 
bined^N^The chief objects of imitation are living and 
acting persons ; 2 and these differ from one another in 
moral worth. 3 ) The manner (here, however, Aristotle 
is speaking of poetry only) differs according as the 
imitator himself speaks or brings forward other 
speakers ; and in the former case according as he speaks 
in propria persona, or merely reports the words of 
others. 4 Aristotle, however, has not attempted to use 
these differences as the basis of any systematic division 
of the Arts as a whole. Upon the particular arts, 
moreover, with the exception of the art of poetry, very 
little has come down to us in his works : we have only a 
few occasional observations upon painting, 5 and a fuller 
discussion of music, 6 the chief contents of which have 

1 Poet. i. 1447, a, 16 sqq. to imitate (1) ^ eVepoV TL [rti/a] 
8 fu/j-ovvrai ol /j.tfj.ov/j.ei>oi irpdr- yiyvo^vo^ (by assuming the part 
TOVTO.S,C. 2, 1448, a, 1. This state- of another), (2) /) &s rbv avrbv /ecu 
ment suffers only slight modi- ph /ierajSaAAoi/Ta. Under this 
fication from the passages quoted second category, along with per- 
p. 304, n. Iand2,sw/?.,on the repre- sonal narration would fall also 
sentation of particular natural lyric poetry, although Aristotle 
objects. Aristotle would not nowhere expressly refers to it in 
therefore have recognised land- the Poetics as we have received 
scape painting, which in his time them. While very closely con- 
did not yet constitute an inde- nected with Plato s division of 
pendent branch of art, as art the forms of artistic presenta- 
at all. tion, Aristotle s does not wholly 

3 C. 2, see p. 305, n. 3, supra, coincide with it. 

4 Poet. c. 3 init. Aristotle 5 Poet. 2, 15, see 305, n. land 
here distinguishes, as Susemihl 3, supra. Pol. viii. 5, v. vol. ii. 
rightly observes, (a) ^^e?o-0at p. 308, n. 2, supra ; also Pol. viii. 
airayyeXXovTa, (J) ^i^lffQai. iravras 3, v. vol. ii. p. 264, n. 3, supra, 
rovs /j.ifj.ovfj.4vovs as irpdrrovras Kai 6 Pol. viii. 3, 1337, b, 27, c. 
fvepyowras. Drama is constituted 5-7. 

by the latter ; in (a) it is possible 


already been given. 1 Finally, the extant portion of Ari 
stotle s writings which deals with poetry limits itself 
almost entirely to tragedy. The art of poetry, we are told, 
sprang from the imitative instinct ; 2 from the imitation 
of noble men and actions came epic poetry ; from the 
imitation of ignoble, satire ; subsequently as the form 
best adapted for the nobler poetry, tragedy was deve 
loped ; as the best for satire, comedy. 3 Tragedy is the 
imitation of an important completed action, of a certain 
length, expressed in graceful style, which varies in the 
several parts of the piece, to be acted, not merely narrated, 
and effecting by means of pity and fear the purification 
of these emotions. 4 Plhe first effect, therefore, of tragic 
poetry is to excite o ur sympathy by means of the fate 
of the actors: their sufferings claim our pity; the 
dangers with which they are threatened excite in us 
fear for the final issue that tragic suspense which in 
the further development finds relief 5 at one time in 

i Sup. vol. ii. p. 2GG sqq. cf.p. 4 C. 6, 1449, b.^24 : 

ill 11 1&2. While Aristotle here TpayySia //j<m irpa^us ffrovtofkm 

attributes to music especially (as Kal rttelas, /teyeflos *xownt, i,5v- 

is there shown) the power of re- wiv* \6y<p, x*P ls ^atrrov ruv 

presenting moral qualities, yet elSuv iv rots f^opiois [i.e. as is iin- 

he does not explain in the Politic* mediately afterwards explained 

the grounds of this advantage so that the different kinds of 

which it possesses over the other ftvffptvos Ao 7 o S Ae|< s and ^\os 

arts In ProM. six. 27, cf. c. 29 it are employed in the dialogue 

is asked 5w ri TO ^ovarov ^6vov and chorus of the tragedy respec- 

Mos {yet rav aicQ-n*; and the tively ; cf. c. 1 fin. tpwrw KO.\ 

answer is given : because we per- 

ceive movements through the $6&ov ircpaivovva rr,v .TUV 

hearing alone, and the ^os ex- [on which see supra, p. 314, n. 4, 


Dresses itself in actions, and adfin^votoiWrvvKMafaiv. 
therefore in movements. But this Since the time of LESSING 

can hardly be Aristotle s. (Hamb. Drama*. 75 8t.) whom 

e p. 303, supra. ZeUer followed in the previous 

4 5. edition, the fear in Aristotle s 



an unfortunate, at another in a fortunate, turn of 
events. 1 But since the tragic poet sets before us in his 
heroes and in their fate universal types of human nature 
and life, our sympathies do not confine themselves to 
these particular characters, but extend to the common 
elements of human nature ; and while thus on the one 
hand self-regarding humours akin to pity and fear are 
created in us by our participation in the experiences of 
the actors, on the other our own pain gives way before 1 
the feeling of others pain, our personal woes are silenced 1 
at the spectacle of universal destiny, we are delivered , 
from the oppressions that weigh on us, and our I 
emotions find peace in the recognition of those eternal/ 
laws which the course of the piece reveals to us. 2 This 

future to them, the latter by 
those which have already be 
fallen them. On the contrary, 
it is rightly objected to Lessing s 
explanation (SUSBMIHL, Poet. 57 
sqq., and the authorities quoted 
by him), that according to Ari 
stotle s own indubitable state 
ment the primary object of tragic 
fear is not ourselves but others ; 
for he says, Poet. 13, 1453, a, 4, 
of eAeos and (j>6/3os : 6 /j.ev yap 
TTspl T*bv avafyov CCTTLV SvaTuxovvTa, 
6 5e rrepl T\>V O/JLOIOV, eAeos /xei/ Trepl 
rbv dva|ioj>, <p6@os Se irepl 7oy 
OJJ.QIOV. To this explanation there 
is the further practical objection 
that fear for ourselves produced 
by the spectacle of a tragedy 
would hardly be the proper 
means of delivering us from this 
same selfish fear. 

1 The latter, however, as is 
remarked c. 13, 1453, a, 12 sqq. 
35 sqq., less to the character of 
tragedy than to that of comedy. 

- See supra, vol. ii. p. 31G sq. 

definition has been commonly 
understood of fear for ourselves 
excited by the thought that those 
whom we see suffering are like 
ourselves, and the fate which 
overtakes them might overtake 
us. This view rests partly on 
the observation that fear for the 
heroes of tragedy is already in 
volved in pity, and that there is, 
therefore, no reason to make par 
ticular mention of it ; partly on 
Rliet. ii. 5 inlt. ii. 8 init., where 
<o/3os is defined as AUTTTJ e/e fyavra.- 

ff iaS fjL\\OVTOS KO.KOV (f)9dpTlKOV /) 

\vTT-npov, eAeos as AVTTTJ ris eVl 
(^aivojuevy KaKt (pdapriKc-i Kal 
\virr]p(Z rov ava^iov Tv-y^dveiv. But 
it is not asserted that the fear 
refers only to such evils as 
threaten ourselves any such as 
sertion, indeed, would be wholly 
false ; and, on the other hand, 
it holds also, as the distinction 
between fear for others and pity 
for them, that the former is ex 
cited by evils which are htill 




impression depends in the first place upon the nature 
of the events represented. These, therefore, are the 
important thing in every tragic representation. Myth, 
as Aristotle says, is the soul of tragedy, 1 and accord 
ingly he sets himself to investigate, in the first place, 
the qualities which are necessary in a tragedy that it may 
effect its end : viz. natural development, 2 proper length, 3 

To distinguish from this purify 
ing effect of tragedy the moral 
effect as a second and different 
result (as UEBERWEG, Zeitschr. 
f. Pliilos. xxxvi. 284 sqq. does) 
seems to be incorrect. Although 
Aristotle, in treating of music, 
places TTcuSeia, Siaywy)), KaOapffis 
side by side as co-ordinate aims 
(see p. 307, n. 2, supra) it does 
not follow that tragedy also 
has to pursue all these aims 
in like manner. On the contrary, 
as there is both a moral and a 
cathartic kind of music (i.e. one 
which directly affects the will, 
and one which primarily affects 
only the emotions and, through 
them, moral character), there may 
also be a kind of poetry whose 
primary aim is catharsis. We 
must assume that tragedy, accord 
ing to Aristotle, is actually such 
a cathartic species of poetry, inas 
much as in his definition of it 
he must have given its aim in an 
essentially complete form if he 
gave it at all. It is quite com 
patible with this to attribute to 
tragedy a moral effect, but it is 
added as a second, which is co 
ordinate with the cathartic, but 
follows from it as result, and 
consists in the peaceful state of 
feeling which is produced by the 
purification of the emotions and 
the habit of self-control which it 
creates in us. 

1 Poet. c. 6, where, inter alia, 
1450, a, 15 (after the enumeration 
of the six elements in tragedy, 
u.v9os, iT], ^ iy ? Sidvoia,, otj/is, 


fffTIV r) T&V 

f) yap rpaycpSia /j.ifj.7icris eariv OVK 
avdpanrcav aAAa 7rpaews Kal &iov 
Kal fvSaifjiOvias Kal KaKoSai^ovias 

. . . oijKOVV OTTCOS TO. i]( 

irpdrrovaiv, aAAa ra 

TO. TrpdyiAara /cat 6 /j.vdos re Aos T^S 
Toa ywSias. L. 38 : ^^X ? /^^ ovj^ 
Kal otoi/ ^ux^? o /jivOos rfjs rpaycf- 
Sias, Sevrepov Se ra r?0rj. Cf. C. 9, 
1451, b, 27 : T^J/ TTOITJTT/V /j.a\\ov 
rwv /j-vOwv eivai Sei TTOJTJT^J/ ^ TWJ/ 
/j.Tpuv. On the other hand, the 
effect produced by the mere 
spectacle (ovf/ts) is declared to be 
that which has the least artistic 
value; ibid. 1450, b, 16. 

2 C. 7, see supra, vol. ii. p. 316, 
n. 3. 

3 This question is decided, 
ibid. 1450, b, 34 sqq., in like 
fashion to that in the Politics 
(see p. 259, n. 1, supra) as to the 
size of the State. The longer and 
richer presentation is in itself 
the more beautiful, provided that 
the plot does not surfer in clear 
ness (rb fvffvvoirrov) owing to its 
length ; the true criterion here 
is : V offca jU.e7e06i Kara rb et/cbs * 
T^ avayKalov e<|>e7}s 
o"uu,Baivi els GVTWYiav eK 



unity of treatment, 1 and the representation of events 
that are typical and of universal interest, 2 He dis 
tinguishes simple events from complicated ones,andthose 
in which the change in the position of the characters is 
brought about by some recognition or by some reversal of 
fortune in the course of the piece. 3 Again he shows how 
myths must be treated in order to excite the emotions 
of pity and fear instead of those of moral indignation 
or satisfaction 4 or of mere wonder, and in order to 
produce this effect by means of these emotions them 
selves and not merely by means of the outward repre 
sentation. 5 He further discusses what is required for 
proper character-painting 6 and composition, 7 passing 
finally to speak of the style of expression best adapted 
to tragedy. 8 We cannot, however, here linger over 

^) e| evrvxias els S 
)8aAAe . 

1 Of the so-called three Ari 
stotelian unities of the French 
school, only the unity of action 
is to be found, as is well known, 
in Aristotle himself ; see Poet. c. 
8 ; cf. c. 9, 1451, b, 33 sqq. c. 18, 
1456, b, 10 sqq. The unity of 
place he nowhere mentions, and 
on that of time he only remarks 
(c. 5, 1449, b, 12) that tragedy 
endeavours to compress the action 
into one day, or, at any rate, to 
i keep as nearly as possible within 
| this limit, but he gives no rule. 
2 C. 9 ; see sup. ii. 305, n. 4. 
* C. 10, 11, 16, where <W- 
yvwpia-is and Tre/mre reta are dis 
cussed. On the genuineness and 
position of c. 16, cf. SUSEMIHL, 
at p. 12 sq. of his ed. 

4 In this sense, viz. of the satis 
faction of that moral feeling with 

the violation of which Nemesis 
(see sup. vol. ii. p. 169, n. 9) has to 
do, we may interpret TO ^uAaj/fya;- 
TTOV which, according to Aristotle 
(c. 13, 1453, a, 3, c. 18, 1456, a, 
21), attaches to the deserved mis 
fortune of the transgressor. It 
is commonly taken (as it was by 
Lessing) to refer to the human 
interest with which we accom 
pany even the transgressor in 
such a case; but Aristotle ap 
pears, ^especially c. 18, to find 
TO (j>i\a.v6p(airov precisely in the 
punishment of wrong as such: 
one who wishes well to humanity 
can wish no good to its enemies 

5 C. 13, 14. 

6 C. 17 sq. 

7 C. 15, on the text and ar 
rangement of which see SUSE 
MIHL, p. 10, 13 sq. 

8 Ae |<s c. 19-22, with which 
cf. MULLER, ibid. 131 sqq. 



these technical details. With regard to the section 
dealing with narrative poetry, 1 with which the Poetics, 
as we have it, closes, we need only remark that Ari 
stotle here also lays the main emphasis upon the unity 
of the action, finding in it the mark which separates 
epic poetry from history, which is the narrative of con 
temporaneous events without reference to their inner 
connection. 2 It is chiefly, moreover, on the ground of 
its greater unity that in comparing tragedy with epic 
poetry he assigns to the former the higher place as a 
form of artistic composition. 3 Of the remaining kinds 
of poetry the extant portions of Aristotle s work do not 
treat. Comedy alone is briefly touched upon in an 
earlier passage 4 ; and cursory as are his allusions 5 to 
it, we can yet see from them that Aristotle was not 
inclined to concur in Plato s harsh estimate of its 
value. 6 

docs he admit, it as a means of 
moral education (see Ph. d. Gr. i. 
800, 802). Aristotle admits that it 
has to do with human infirmity, 

1 C. 23-26. 

2 C. 23. 

3 C. 26. 

4 See supra, vol. ii. p. 304 sq. 

5 Supplementary to these (as but he adds that in deals only 
was shown by BEKNAYS) are with harmless infirmities, and in 
some statements to be found in demanding of it at the same 
the editions of VAHLEN and time thar, it should devote itself 
SUSEMIHL, as was already re- not to the ridicule of particular 
marked, vol. i. p. 102. Besides the persons but to depicting types 
quotations, siq). vol. i. p. 306, n. 3, of character, he opened the way 

to the recognition of it as 
means of purifying and elevating 

p. 313, n. 1, the division of comedy 

into 7e\o>s eK rfjs Ae|ews and 7fAw? 

CK r&v Trpa.yiJ.aTwv is of especial natural sentiments. Whether. 

interest in this connection. Cf. Aristotle actually adopted this 

P.ERNAYS, Rhcin. Mus. N. F. 

viii. 577 sqq. 

6 Plato had conceived in a 

view, and whether he assigned 
to comedy a higher position thai 
the music which, in Polit. viii. 
general way of comedy only as the 7, 1342, a, 18 sqq., he withholds 
representation of deformity, and from the common people, cannot 
the pleasure produced hy it as be positively decided. 
malignancy. Only in the La/vs 




IN the preceding section we had to deal with a 
fragmentary account of a theory which Aristotle him 
self developed more fully. In the section now before 
us we have to deal with a subject which he has made no 
attempt to treat scientifically, but has only touched upon 
occasionally in detached passages. Aristotle has not 
any more than Plato a philosophy of Religion in the 
scientific sense ; l his system even lacks those features 
which give to the Platonic philosophy, in spite of the 
severe criticisms which it passes on the existing religion, 
a peculiar religious character of its own. He does not 
require to fall back upon the popular faith, as Plato 
had done in his theory of myths, although at the same 
time, on the principle that universal opinion and un 
reflecting tradition are never without a certain truth, 2 
he willingly makes use of the suggestions and links of 
connection which it supplies. 3 His scientific researches 

1 His view of the Divine gion especially in its relation to 

Being, indeed, is set forth in the philosophy, is nowhere fully 

MetapJiysiL s ; but the question investigated. 
with which the philosophy of 2 See supra, vol. i. p. 256, n. 2, 

religion starts, as to the distin- and p. 291, n. 5. 
guishing characteristics of reli- 3 For proofs of this, see infra. 


do not exhibit that constant direct reference to the 
personal life and circumstances of men which in an 
especial degree gives to the Platonic philosophy its 
religions tone ; l even in morals the motives which he 
assigns for action are strictly ethical and not religious. 
His whole view of the world rests upon the principle 
of explaining things as completely as may be by a 
reference to their natural causes ; that the universe of 
natural effects must be referred to a Divine cause he 
never in the least doubts ; 2 but as this affords no 
scientific explanation of them he never connects indi 
vidual facts and events, as Plato so often does, with 
divine a.gency. The conception of Providence, common 
to Socrates and Plato, as of a divine activity exercised 
in individual cases, finds no place in Aristotle. 3 We 
miss, therefore, in his system that warm glow of religious 
feeling which in Plato has ever so strongly appealed 
to susceptible minds, and in comparison with which 
the Aristotelian philosophy seems to be cold and 

It would be wrong to deny or under-estimate the 
difference which exists in this respect between the 
two philosophers. They certainly treat their subject 
in a different spirit. The inner bond which in 
Plato unites philosophy with religion is not indeed 
completely severed in Aristotle, but it is so widely 
expanded as to give to science the freest scope in 
its own field. No attempt is ever made to answer 
scientific questions by means of religious presuppose 

1 Cf. Ph. d, Gr.i. p. 793 sq. 2 See vol. i. p. 421 sq. 

3 Cf. svpra, vol. i. p. 399 sq. 


tions. On the other hand, all positive treatment of 
religion itself, as a science in the same sense as art or 
morality, is as far from Aristotle s thoughts as from 
Plato s. Different as is the attitude which each 
actually takes up with regard to religion, yet in 
their scientific views of it they approach very near to 
one another, the main difference in this respect being 
that Aristotle is more strictly logical in drawing con 
clusions whose premises are no strangers to Plato s 
thought. Aristotle, as we have already seen, is con 
vinced like Plato of the unity of the Divine Being 
(in so far as we understand by this Deity in the proper 
sense of the word, or the highest efficient cause), of his 
exaltation above the world, of his immaterial and purely 
spiritual nature, and of his faultless perfection ; and 
he strives to demonstrate with greater fullness and more 
scientific accuracy than his predecessor not only the 
existence but also the attributes of Deity. But 
while Plato had on the one hand identified God with 
the Idea of the Good, which can only be conceived of 
as impersonal, on the other he depicted his creative and 
governing activity in conformity with popular repre 
sentations of it, and not without sundry mythical 
embellishments. This ambiguity is removed by his 
pupil, who defines the Divine Nature clearly and 
sharply on both sides : on the one hand God, as a 
personal supernatural Being, is guarded from all con 
fusion with any merely universal conception or im 
personal power ; while on the other, as he is limited in his 
activity to pure thought and absolutely self-contained, 
and he operates upon the world only to set in motion the 


outermost of the cosmic spheres. 1 Individual events 
do not therefore upon this view admit of being referred 
directly to divine causation. Zeus does not rain in 
order that the corn may grow or be destroyed, but 
because, according to universal laws of nature, the 
rising vapours cool and descend as water ; 2 prophetic 
dreams are not sent by the gods to reveal to us the 
future, but, in so far as the question is here of causality 
at all and not merely of chance coincidence, they are 
to be referred as natural effects to physical causes 3 
Nor is the case in any degree altered by the fact that 
between God above and earth beneath numerous other 
eternal beings find a place ; 4 since the operation of 
those heavenly beings is likewise limited to causing the 
motion of their own sphere, any interference on their 
part with individual events of the kind that popular 
belief attributes to its gods and demons is out of the 
question. The essential truth of the belief in Provi 
dence, however, Aristotle does not certainly on this 
account resign. He also recognises in the order of the 
universe the operation of Divine Power and of rational 
design ; 5 he believes especially that the gods care for 
men, that they interest themselves in those who live 
according to reason, and that happiness is their gift 6 ; 


1 See supra, vol. i. p. 388 sqq ; av evXoyov x a l P eiv T 

cf. Ph.d. Gr.i. p. 785 sqq. 591 sqq. ap arw Kal r$ ffvyyeveffrarc? (TOUTO 

- See supra, vol. i. p. 361, n. 1. $ Uv en? 6 vovs) KOI TOVS ayairwvras 

3 See supra, vol. ii. p. 75 sq. naXiara TOVTO Kal Tt^cDfras avrev- 
DlV. 1, 462, b, 20. iroizlv ws T&V fyiXwv avrols eV^eAou- 

4 See 8Upra, vol. i. p. 494 sq. ^eVous /cat opOus re Kal /A<s 

5 See vol. i. p. 420 sq. irpdrrovTas. i. 10, 1099, b, 11 : el 

6 Etli. x. 9, 1179, a, 24: et yap fiev olv Kal aAAo ri eVrl 6e>v 
ris 67rt,u.e Aeia T&V avOpcairivcav virb Scu/nj/xa avdpuirois, euAoyoi/ Kai 

ylverai, &c"irep So/ce?, /cat etr/ cvf>ai/J.ovi(tv 


he also opposes the notion that God is envious, and 
might therefore, if he liked, withhold from man his 
best gift of knowledge. 1 But this Divine Providence 
coincides completely for Aristotle with the operation of 
natural causes ; 2 all the more because in setting aside 
the Platonic eschatology he left no room for that direct 
agency of the Deity which Plato had so largely ad 
mitted into his pictures of the future life and its retribu 
tions. God stands according to Aristotle outside the 
world, engaged in solitary self-contemplation ; he is for 
man the object of admiration and reverence ; 3 the 
knowledge of him is the mind s highest aim ; 4 in him 
lies the goal towards which, along with all finite things, 
man strives, and whose perfection excites his love. 5 
But as man can expect no reciprocal love from God, 6 

yuaAicrra TUIV avOpcoirtvwv offcf /3eA- 
THTTOV. viii. 14, 1162, a, 4 : effn 
5 rj /net/ Trpbs yovels (pi\ia re/cvoty, 
Kal avdpwTTOLs Trpbs 6eovs, ws Trpbs 
Kal virepexov eu "yap ?re- 

1 Metaph. i. 2, 982, b, 32 (see 
SUp. vol. ii. 163, 3) : et 8$? \eyovffi 
n ol TroiTjral Kal TrecpvKe (pdovfli/ TO 
0e7oi>, eTrl rovrov ffvjj.$aiviv /ndhiffra 
fiK6s .... aAA ovre rb Qtlov (f)dove- 
pbv eVSe^eTat e?i/at, &c. Cf. Ph. d. 
Gr. i. 602, 1, 787, 1. 

2 Eth. i. 10: Aristotle con 
tinues : $cuVeTCU Se K&I/ et fify 
6e6TrfjLTTT6s etrriv a\\a 5i apT?V 
Kai Twa /j.ddr](nv v) affK^aiv Trapa-yi- 
vfTai Ttav OfioTaTwv f-lvai TO yap 
TIIS apexes 50Ao^ Kal TeAos apiffrov 
tivai tyaiveTai Kal Q?UV ri Kal 
ft.aKa.pLov. If we compare with 
this the passage quoted from 
Etli. x. 10 on p. 156, n. 4, supra. 
we shall see that the happiness 

which is 0eoV5oTos consists 
merely in the moral and spiritual 
capacities of man in the natural 
possession of reason in which he 
has still to secure himself by 
actual study and practice. 

8 Metaph. xii. 7 (see supra, vol. 
i.p. 184, n. 1). SENECA, 0. N. vii.; 
egregie Aristoteles ait, nunquam 
iws verccundiores esse deberc qiiam 
cum de Dis agltur. 

4 The Divine Being is the 
highest object of thought (see 
su_i)ra,vo[. i. p. 398 n. 2), and theo 
logy therefore (vol. i. p. 184, 
n. 1), the highest branch of philo 

5 Cf. vol. i. p. 404, sqq. 

6 See supra, vol. i. p. 398, n. 1 , 
which places the passage quoted, 
p. 328, n. 6, supra, from Etli. viii. 
14 in the proper light; there is a 
love (fyiXia) of men towards the 
gods, but not vice versa. 


neither can he experience any influence from him 
which would be different from that of natural causes, 
and his reason is the only means whereby he enters into 
direct communion with him. 1 

Holding these views, Aristotle could not concede to 
the popular religion the same significance which Plato 
did. That it must certainly have its own truth, fol 
lowed for him from his view of the historical evolution 
of mankind and the value of common opinion. Uni 
versal conviction is for him of itself a mark of truth, 2 
all the more so when we are dealing with convictions 
which have been transmitted by mankind from time 
immemorial. Since the world, according to Aristotle, 
is eternal, the earth must be so also ; and if the earth 
is so, man must be so as well. 3 But all parts of the 
globe undergo continual change, 4 and one of the con 
sequences of this is that man s development does not 
proceed in an unbroken line but is ever and anon 
interrupted by relapses into a state of primitive bar 
barism and ignorance, 5 from which a fresh start must 
be made in the cyclic process of creation. 6 In this way 
all knowledge and all art have been lost and re 
discovered times without number, and similar notions 
have recurred to mankind, not once or twice but with 
incalculable frequency. Nevertheless, a certain recol- 

1 Of. on this point, supra, vol. Qt]ffav, 6/u.oiovs eTi/cu ical TO S rvx&v- 
i. p. 329, n. 2, and p. 403 sqq. ras ical rovs avo^rovs, ftcrirep Kal 

2 See &upra, vol. i. p. 291, n. 5. \4yerai Kara ruiv yf)yev<av, wffr 

3 Of. supray vol. ii. p. 32, n. 1. aroirov rb peveiv eV rots rovruv 

4 See supra, vol. ii. p. 29 sq. S6y/j.affiv. 

5 Cf. Polit. ii. 8, 1269, a, 4 : Cf. Pkys. iv., 14, 223, b^ 24 : 
eiit6s re rovs Trpderovs, etre 77776- (paal yap KviiXov tlvai ra avOpuiriva 
vets riffav er e /c (pOopas rivos eVw- -rrpdyfj-ara. 


lection of particular truths has been retained amid the 
changes in man s condition, and it is these remnants of 
departed knowledge that, according to Aristotle, form 
the kernel of mythical tradition. 1 Even the popular 
faith, therefore, has its roots in the search for truth, 
whether we trace it back to that intuition of the divine 
which even Aristotle is unwilling to contradict, 2 and 
to those experiences which he regarded as the source 
of the popular theology, 3 or whether we trace it to a 
tradition which, as a remnant of an older science or 
religion, must yet in the end have its roots in human 
reason. More particularly there are two truths which 
Aristotle, like Plato, finds to be contained in the 
popular belief of his country : first, that God exists ; 
and secondly, that the stellar universe is in its nature 
divine. 4 With the further details of Greek mythology, 

1 Metaph. xii. 8; see p. d^oXoyov^v^s a7ro0cuW0cu o-u/x- 
508, n. 2, supra. De Ccclo i. 3 ; <t>wovs Xtyovs. Cf. the appeal to 
Meteor, i. 3, 339, b, 19 : it is -n-drpioi \6yoi, ibid. 284, a, 2. Me- 
not we alone who have this view tapli. xii. 8, see supra, vol. i. 
of the irpurov aroixeiov as the p. 508, n. 2. 

substance of the celestial world, 3 See supra, vol. i. p. 390, n. 3. 

0afj>eTai 5 ^ apxaia ns inroXt)^ is 4 The first hardly requires 

avr-f] Kal ra>v ^ Trp6repov avOpooTrcav proof ; see. however, the quota- 

. . . . ov yap 8^7 <j>r)ffo/j.v an-a ot>5e tions, vol. i. p. 390. n. 3, 4, from 

Sis ouS o\tydKis ras avras So |as SEXTus and CICEEO, and p. 395, 

avaKvicXw yivopevas ev -rols avOpu- n. 6, from the treatise De Ccelo, i. 

I TTOIS, aAA a-rreipaKis. Polit. vii. 9 ; in the latter passage a trace of 

i 10, 1329, b, 25 : (TX^V fj.ev ovv true knowledge is discovered in 

! Kal ra a\\a 8e? vopi&iv evprjaBai the name alkv, just as elsewhere in 

\fo\\aKis^v rf TTO\\$ xpov<f, that of the aetlier ( K al yap rovro 

; fj.d\\ov S aireipaKis, as like needs rovvo/na Otlces e(p0ey K Tai irapa TU>V 

! and states must, always have led ap X aia,^. In support of his doc- 

to the same discoveries. trine of the divinity of the 

2 De Ccclo, ii. 1 Jin. : Ari- heavens and of the stars, Aristotle 
stotle s view of the eternity of appeals to the existing religion 
the world is not only truer in in the passage just referred 

f itself, a\\a Kal ri, ^avela rfj irepl to. 
, T^>V debv jj.6vcas av x L P- ev ourcas 


on the other hand, with all the. doctrines and stories 
which transfer the properties and weaknesses of human 
nature to the gods in a word, with the whole range of 
anthropomorphic theology Aristotle is as completely 
out of sympathy as Plato was ; the only difference is 
that he no longer considers it necessary, as Plato had 
done, expressly to confute such representations, but 
treats them simply as preposterous fables. 1 If we ask 
how those false elements have found their way into the 
popular faith, Aristotle refers us to the inherent ten 
dency in mankind to anthropomorphic representations 
of the gods, 2 which offended even Xenophanes, 3 or to 
the fact that statesmen had accommodated themselves as 
a matter of policy to this tendency, and used it for their 
own ends. Even ancient tradition, he says, 4 recognises 
that the heavens and the heavenly bodies are gods, and 
that the whole world is encircled by divinity. All 
else, however, is mythical embellishment, devised to 
attract the multitude, to aid legislation, and to forward 
the common interest. While therefore Plato had 
permitted the legislator to employ myths (the origin of 

1 Metapli. xii. 8 ; see p. 508, n. TOU? Oeovs 5e Sia TOUTO Trdvres 
2,$vpra. Ibid. iii. 2, 997, b, 8 ; see <j>ao-l j8a<nAetW0cu, ori Kal avrol oi 
vol. i. p. 315, n. 2,c.4,1000, a, 18: ,uei/ Irt Kal vvv ol 5e rb dpx^ov 
aAAa -n-fpl ACCI/ ruv pvOLKtas tro^t^o/J.- e&xtnXevovTO &<rirep 5e Kal ra eftJrj 
evwv ovKaiov /xera tnrovSrjs ffKOTrGlv. eavrols d(f>o/j.oiov<nv oi avQpcairoi, 
Poet. 25, 1400, b, 35 : a poetic ovrw Kal TOVS fiiovs ruv Oewv. This 
representation is justified by its deduction of the belief in a 
correspondence either with the sovereign of the gods is all the 
ideal or with the actual ; el Se more remarkable, because Ari- 
^Serepajy, on ovru <patriv, olov ra stotle might equally well have 
Trepi 6euu. taws yap ovre fizXriov himself found in that tradition 
OVTOO \eyew, ovr aATjfl?}, aAA a proof of the unity of God. 
6Tt>%ej> &a"irfp z,evo<pdvr)s aAA ov 3 Cf . Ph. d. Gr. i. 490. 

<t>a<ri Tc5e. 4 In the passage quoted from 

2 Polit. i. 2, 1252, b, 24: Kal Metapli. xii. 8, invol.i, p.508,n. 2. 


which he did not explain) as paedagogic lies in the 
interest of the State, 1 Aristotle goes a step farther, 
and thus comes a step nearer the view of sophistic 
free-thinking as to the origin of religion, 2 in maintain 
ing that these myths, or at least a great part of them, 
had been from the beginning invented for no other 
purpose. This, indeed, is what we should expect from 
the strictness with which he himself excludes all that 
is mythical from his scientific investigations, his refusal 
to introduce religious considerations into his naturalistic 
view of the world, 3 and the exclusiveness with which he 
relies in his Ethics upon moral motives to the neglect 
of the religious. Eeligion itself, indeed, he always 
treats as an absolute moral necessity. The man who 
doubts whether the gods have a claim on our reverence 
or not is a fit subject, he says, 4 not for instruction but 
for punishment, just as would be the man who might 
ask whether his parents have a claim upon his love. 
As in his system the world cannot be thought of apart 
from. God, so neither can man apart from religion. 
But to rest this religion upon such palpable fables as 
the myths of the popular belief can be justified only on 
the ground of the aforesaid political expediency. 5 Ari 
stotle himself sometimes makes use of these myths, as 
of other popular opinions, in order to point to some 

1 See Ph. d. Gr. i. 792. 4, and supra, vol. ii. p. 329, n. 3. 

2 Ibid. i. 1010 sq. 5 It is possible, indeed, that 

3 The expression is used in no if he had completed the discus- 
depreciatory sense, but as indi- sion of education in the best 
eating the view that everything state, he would have accepted 
in the world is the effect of Plato s doctrine, that myths were 
natural causes. indispensable in education, as 

4 Top. i. 11, 105, a, 5, cf. Eth. easily reconcileable with the 
viii. 10, 1163, b, 15, ix. 1, 1164, b, argument. 



universal truth embodied in them, 1 just as he likes to 
trace back scientific assumptions to their most in 
significant beginnings, and to pay respect to popular 
sayings and proverbs. 2 But apart from the few uni 
versal principles of religion embodied in mythology, 
he ascribes to it no deeper significance; and just as 
little, on the other hand, does he seem to aim at its 
purification. He presupposes for his State the existing 
religion, 3 just as personally he did not renounce its 

1 Thus Metaph. i. 3, 983, b, 
27, c. 4 init. xiv. 4, 1091, b, 3. 
Phys. iv. 1, 208, b, 29, hints of 
certain scientific views of the 
world are discovered in the cos- 
mogonic myths of Hesiod and 
other poets ; Meteor, i. 9, 347, a, 
5 the Oceanus is interpreted of 
the air-current that encircles the 
earth ; the myth of Atlas proves 
that its inventors, with later 
philosophers, attributed weight 
to the heavens (De Cwlo, ii. 1, 
284, a, 18, in the treatise DC 
Motu Anim. 3, 699, a, 27, Atlas 
is interpreted to mean the world s 
axis ; the same treatise, c. 4, 699, 
b, 35, finds in Homer s lines upon 
the golden chain a reference to 
the immobility of the primum 
movens) ; Aphrodite is said to 
have obtained this name because 
of the frothy character of the 
semen (Gen. An. ii. 2 Jin. }; Ares 
was united with this goddess by 
the first inventors of this myth 
because warlike natures, as a 
rule, exhibit amorous propensities 
(Pol. ii. 9, 1269, b, 27) ; in the 
fable which tells how the Argo 
nauts had to leave Heracles 
behind there lies a true political 
observation (Polit. iii. 13, 1284, 
a, 22) ; the story that Athene 

threw away the flute expresses 
the truth that this instrument is 
unnecessary for mental culture 
(Polit. viii. 6, 1341, b, 2); the 
worship of the Graces points to 
the necessity of reciprocity 
(Eth. v. 8, 1133, a, 2); the 
number three derives its signifi 
cance in the popular religion from 
the fact that it is the first num her 
which has beginning;, middle, and 
end (De Ccelo, i. 1, 268, a, 14). 

2 Thus, //. An. vi. 35, 580, a, 
15, ix. 32, 619, a, 18 he quotes 
several myths about animals ; in 
the fragment from the Eudemus 
(PLUT. Cons, ad Apoll. c. 27 fr. 
40) he makes use of the story of 
Midas and Silenus ; on his pre 
dilection for proverbs, cf. supra, 
vol. i. p. 256, n. 2. 

3 As is obvious from Polit. 
vii. 8, 1328, b, 11, c. 9, 1329, a, 
29, c. 12, 1331, a, 24, c. 16, 1335, 
b, 14. But that he went so far 
in his zeal for religion as to as 
sign the fourth part of the land 
collectively to the priesthood for 
the support of religion cannot be 
concluded (as has been suggested 
in Ferienschr. N. F. i. 303) from 
Polit. vii! 10, 1330, a, 8. Ari 
stotle says indeed here that the 
land should be divided into pub- 


rites, and expressed his dependence on friends and 
relatives through the forms which it had consecrated ; l 
but of the Platonic demand for the reform of religion 
by philosophy we have not a trace in him, and in his 
Politics he admits into the existing cultus things which he 
disapproves of in themselves. 2 Aristotle s philosophy 
stands thus as a whole in the loosest relation to positive 
religion. It takes advantage of its ideas as links of literary 
connection, but makes no further use of them. Just as 
little, however, does it desire to see religion purified or 
reformed; on the contrary, it seems to accept its im 
perfections as something which could not possibly be 
otherwise. Each stands to the other in an attitude of 
essential indifference ; philosophy goes its own way, 
without much troubling itself about religion, or fearing 
from it any interruption in the prosecution of its own 

lie and private, and the latter ?) \6yovs 

again into two parts for the sup- olv e<rra> rols apxovin wQev H^TG 

port of religion and the syssitia &ya\/j.a /x^re ypacprjv eTvot TOIOVTOW 

respectively, but he does not say n-paleo;?/ / LU/U.TJ<TJI , ei ^ irapa. run 

that these parts should be of the 0eo?s TOIOVTOIS ols Kai rbv T(aQa<r^bv 

same size. a.TroSi8ca<nv 6 vS/j-os irpbs Se rovrots 

1 Cf. in this reference the a(pin<nv 6 vo^os rovs ex oi/ras ^ i " 
quotations on the subject of his KIO.V irXtov irpo-riKovvav Kai vwep 
votive offerings and gifts to avrSiv KO,\ TCKVUV Kai ywatKoev 
the dead, in chap. i. ad Jin. Ti^aXfys iv TOVS Qeovs. The latter 

2 Polit. vii. 17, 1336, b, 3 : admission clearly shows how 
o\vs juev olv al<rxpo\oyiav e/c T?)S Aristotle endeavoured to make 

ecws, faffirtp dAAo n, 5eT rbv things which he disapproved of 

vo/j.o6<ETr)v eopieiv . . . eVel 5e rb and only unwillingly permitted, 

iv TI rS)v roiovTwj/ eopio/*v, at least as harmless as possible. 
(pavepbv 6n Kai rb dfcapelv 7) ypatpas 




THE peculiar traits of the Aristotelian philosophy are 
due to the fusion in it of the two elements to which 
attention was called at the outset, 1 namely the dialectic : 
or speculative, and the empirical or realistic. On the 
one hand the system finds the true essence of things to 1 
consist in immaterial form, true knowledge of them in 
the apprehension of their concept ; on the other hand, 
it insists that the form should not be conceived of as a 
transcendental idea existing apart from things, and that : 
it is the individual, and not the universal notion or genus, 
that is the ultimate reality. It therefore represents 
experience as the only source of concepts, which are 
obtained, not by turning away from the actual to an 
ideal world, but by apprehending in their essence the 
data of experience themselves ; thus, while pursuing the 
dialectic development of the concept, it unites with it 
a comprehensive observation of the facts. Both traits 
have their roots equally in the intellectual capacity of 
its author, whose greatness just consists in this rare 
union in equal measure of qualities which in most men 
are found to be mutually exclusive of one another : the 

! Vol. i. p. 170 sqq. 


faculty, namely, of philosophic thought and the power 
of accurate observation applied with living interest to 
the world of fact. Hitherto these elements have been 
combined in very different proportions in philosophy. 
In the school of Socrates and Plato the art of developing 
the concept had far outstript the power of appreciatino- 
the fact. They had directed attention to what is 
inward in man to the neglect of the outward world, 
and had regarded thought itself as the immediate source 
of our truth. Thought, that is to say, conceptions, stood 
for what was absolutely certain, the criterion by which 
the truth of experience was to be tested. The strongest 
expression of, as well as the most remarkable deduction 
from, this theory is to be found in the Platonic doctrine 
of Ideas. Aristotle indeed shares the general presup 
positions of this idealistic philosophy ; he also is con 
vinced that the essence of things is only known by 
thought, and consists only in that which is the object 
of our thought, or, in other words, in the form and not 
in the matter. He justly takes exception, however, to the 
transcendental character of the Platonic Ideas. He can 
not conceive of the form and the essence as existing 
separately from the things whose form and essence 
they are. Keflecting further that our own conceptions 
are not independent of experience in their origin, he is 
the more convinced of the error of the Platonic separa 
tion between the Ideas and the phenomena. In place, 
(then, of the doctrine of Ideas he presents us with an essen 
tially new view. It is not the genus but the individual 
jwhich, according to Aristotle, constitutes the substantial 
Reality; the form does not exist as a universal apart from 
VOL. n. z 



the thing, but in it as the special form of this or that 
particular. While the general principle upon which the 
Platonic Idealism is founded is thus retained, the special 
development of it into the doctrine of Ideas is rejected. 
The Idea, which Plato had conceived of as transcenden 
tal and supersensible, has a new place assigned to it as th( 
formative and efficient principle in the phenomenal 
world. As the inner essence of things, it is sought for ii 
the facts themselves, as these present themselves to us 
in experience. The Aristotelian doctrine may thus 
described as alike the completion and the confutation 
the Platonic. It confutes it in the form which Plat 
had given to it : yet at the same time it develops his 
fundamental thought still more fully and logically th; 
Plato himself had done, in that it attributes to form not 
only, with him, complete and primary reality, but also 
creative force to produce all else that is real. Aristotle 
therefore, traces the potency of thought much deep 
than Plato had been able to do throughout the whol< 
field of phenomena. 

From this fundamental principle all the leading 
doctrines of the Aristotelian philosophy logically follow. 
Since the universal cannot exist apart from the indi 
vidual it cannot form an independent reality by itseli 
the individual alone has substantial reality. And sine 
the form is conceived of, not as absolute essem 
abstracted from phenomena, but as the efficient caus 
which works in them, it cannot stand as it does in Plat< 
in a relation of mere opposition to that which is tl 
substratum of phenomena namely, matter. If form 
the absolutely real, matter cannot be the absolutely 


real and non-existent ; for, in order that form may be able 
to realise itself in the matter, there must exist between 
the two a kinship or positive relation as well as the 
apparent antagonism. So matter is merely unrealised 
form, it is the potentiality of which form is the actuality. 1 
From this mutual relationship arises motion, and with it 
all natural life, all growth and decay, all change and 
transmutation. But since the two principles of form and 
motion stand originally towards one another in a relation 
of mere antagonism and opposition, this relation itself, 
or in other words motion, presupposes for form an 
absolute existence ; if it is the cause of all motion, it 
must itself be unmoved, and precede all that is moved 
if not in order of time, at least in the logical order of 
reality. From the sum of the forms which are em 
bodied in matter we must therefore distinguish the 
primum movens, or God, as pure form or pure reason 
whose only object is itself. Since all motions pro 
ceed from form, they must all be striving towards 
a certain definite form as their goal.^ There is nothing 
in nature which has not its own indwelling end ; 
and since all motion leads us back to a primary 
source of movement, the sum total of things is subor 
dinate to some highest end, and constitutes an organic 
whole in other words, an ordered world. But since 
form operates in matter which only gradually develops 
into that which it is destined to become, the formal 
design can only realise itself under manifold restraints, 
and in conflict with the resistance of matter, atone time 
with greater at another with less perfection. Thus the 
1 Ct p. 340 sqq., vol. i. 

z 2 


world is composed of many parts, which vary infinitely in 
worth and beauty ; these again fall apart into the two 
great sections of heaven and earth, of which the former 
exhibits a gradual diminution, the latter, contrariwise, 
a gradual increase in perfection. But while all parts of 
the world down to the most imperfect and insignificant 
are essential elements in the whole, still the definite and 
peculiar character of each has a claim upon our regard, 
and accordingly it is not less in harmony with the 
demands of the system than with the personal inclina 
tions of its author to investigate great things and small 
alike with scientific thoroughness, and to treat nothing 
with contempt as if it were insignificant and worthless for 
science. 1 This does not, of course, exclude such degrees 
of importance among things themselves as Aristotle has 
sought to point out in the sphere, for example, of animate 
nature. So among mundane beings the first place is 
assigned to man, since in him alone spirit reveals itself 
as spirit. The chief end of man, therefore, consists in 
the cultivation and exercise of his spiritual capacities : 
in other words, scientific knowledge and moral will are 
the essential conditions of happiness. But as no 
work is possible without appropriate material, it is 
impossible for man to dispense with external aids for 
the realisation of his end ; and as all things develop 
into that which they are capable of becoming only 
by a gradual process, so in the spiritual life of man 
there is exhibited a gradual process of development. 
Thus from sense perception spring imagination and 

1 See on this head, vol. i. p. 167, n. 3, p. 169, n. 3, and also 
PLATO S statements noted, Ph. d. Gr. i. p. 665. 


memory, from these arises thought; natural capacity 
precedes moral action, practice and habit precede moral 
knowledge; reason appears first as passive and as 
entangled in the lower faculties of the soul before it 
realises itself as active in the purity of its being. The 
highest perfection of our spiritual life consists, however, 
in scientific contemplation, for here alone reason is in 
immediate contact with the pure forms of things, while 
at the same time it is beyond question that reason 
cannot confine itself to the immediate knowledge of 
first principles, but methodically pressing forward from 
phenomena to conceptions, and tracing causes to their 
effects, must finally embrace the whole sphere of reality. 
This short survey has already shown us in the Ari 
stotelian system a well-planned doctrinal structure, the 
outlines of which are drawn with a firm hand in 
accordance with one fundamental thought. The care 
and consistency with which the design is executed down 
to the minutest detail is manifest from the whole pre 
ceding account. It is nevertheless true that, as we 
have already had frequent occasion to remark, all the 
joints of the fabric are not equally secure ; and the 
ultimate source of this defect must be sought for in 
the fact that the foundations of the whole have not been 
laid sufficiently deep. Putting aside all those points 
in which the want of experimental knowledge has led 
Aristotle to draw false conclusions and put forward un 
tenable explanations, and limiting ourselves merely to 
the question of the self-consistency of his doctrine, 
without entering upon that of its absolute truth, 
we cannot deny that Aristotle has failed to unite the 


chief points of view in his system in a manner free from 
self-contradiction. Just as in his scientific procedure 
dialectic and observation, the speculative and the em 
pirical elements, are not equally balanced, but the 
a priori method common to Socrates and Plato con 
tinually re-asserts itself over the more strictly empirical, 1 
so also in his metaphysical speculations we detect 
a similar phenomenon. There is nothing in the 
Platonic system which is so distasteful to him as 
that dualism between Idea and phenomenon which 
expressed itself sharply in the doctrine of the abso 
lute existence of the Ideas, and of the non-reality of 
matter. His opposition to this dualism is the key-note 
of his whole reconstruction of the Platonic metaphysics 
and of the fundamental ideas peculiar to his own system. 
And yet, earnest and thorough as are his efforts to over 
come it, he has not, after all, succeeded in doing so. 

He denies Plato s doctrine that universal class notions 
possess substantial reality; but he asserts with him 
that all our conceptions are of the universal, and depend 
for their truth upon the reality of their object. 2 He 
combats the transcendental character of the Platonic 
Ideas and the dualism between Idea and phenomenon. 
But he himself leaves form and matter in a like funda 
mental opposition to one another, in that he fails to trace 
them back to a common source ; and the further develop 
ment of these two principles involves him in the 
contradiction 3 of maintaining that the essence and sub 
stance of things is in the form, which at the same time 

See sup. vol. i. p. 175 sq p. 258, sqq. 2 Of. vol. i. p. 334 sqq. 
3 On which cf. vol. i. p. 372 sqq. 


is a universal, and yet that the source of individuality 
and therefore also of substantiality must be the matter. 
He takes exception to Plato s doctrine on the ground 
that his Ideas contain no principle of motion ; neverthe 
less his own account of the relation between form and 
matter leaves all actual motion equally unexplained. He 
places God as a personal being outside the world ; but 
lest he should derogate in anything from his perfection, 
he thinks it necessary to deny to him the essential 
conditions of personality. So, to escape involving him 
in the transmutations of finite things, he limits God s 
operation (herein contradicting the more living idea of 
God which he elsewhere entertains) to the production 
of motion in the outer cosmic sphere, and so pictures 
that activity to himself, as to assign spatial existence 
to the Deity. 

Connected with this is the obscurity which surrounds 
his conception of Nature. In the spirit of antiquity he 
describes Nature as a single being who operates with 
a purpose, as a rational all-efficient power : and yet his 
system supplies no subject of which these attributes 
may be predicated. 1 Far as Aristotle has advanced 
beyond the superficial teleology of Socrates and Plato, 
he has none the less failed actually to solve the opposi 
tion between physical and final causes ; 2 and while we 
must admit that the problem with which he is here face 
to face is one that still taxes our resources, and that we 
cannot therefore reproach him with having failed to 
solve it, it is yet curious to note how easily the two prin- 

1 Cf. with the above remarks 2 As will be obvious from p. 

vol. i. p. 420 sq. 358 sqq. p. 464 sqq. and p. 17, */(/;. 


ciples which he had posited at the outset of his philo 
sophy of nature might in the sequel become mutually 
contradictory and exclusive of one another. A further 
difficulty arises in connection with the Aristotelian 
account of animate nature, and especially of man, 
inasmuch as it is hard to discover any inner principle 
of union between the various elements of the soul, and 
harder still to explain the phenomena of its life, if, like 
every other moving force, the soul is held to be itself 
unmoved. The difficulty, however, becomes greatest 
when we ask how we are to comprehend in the unity 
of personal life the reason of man and the lower 
faculties of his soul, and to determine the share of the 
former in his spiritual acts and states ; how we are to 
conceive of what is passive and incorporeal as at the 
same time part of a soul which by its very definition is 
the entelechy of the body, and to assign to personality 
its place between the two constituent parts of human 
nature of which the one transcends it while the other 
sinks below it. 1 

Turning finally to his Moral Philosophy, we find that 
here also Aristotle strove with much success to correct 
the one-sidedness of Socrates and Plato. He not only 
contradicts the Socratic doctrine that Virtue is Know 
ledge, but sets aside also Plato s distinction between 
ordinary and philosophic Virtue. To him, all moral 
qualities are a matter of the Will, and have their primary 
source not in instruction but in habit and education. 
Nevertheless in the account of the intellectual virtues 
there reveals itself an unmistakable vacillation as to 

1 P. 119 sqq. 


the relation in which moral knowledge stands to moral 
action, while in the preference for theoretic over 
practical activity l (which follows indeed quite logically 
from the Aristotelian doctrine of the soul) there reap 
pears the same presupposition which lay at the root of the 
very views that Aristotle controverted. So, too, even 
in his political philosophy, however deep its insight 
in other respects into the actual conditions of social 
life, and however great its superiority to Plato s politi 
cal idealism, we yet find remnants of the old idealism 
if not so much in the picture of the best State, yet 
in that distinction between true and false forms of 
government the untenableness of which becomes 
manifest by the ambiguous position which the doctrine 
itself assigns to polity. 2 There thus runs through 
every part of the Aristotelian system that dualism 
which it had inherited from Plato, and which, with the 
best intentions, it never succeeded, after it had once 
accepted it as one of its fundamental principles, in 
wholly overcoming. The more earnestly, on the other 
hand, Aristotle strives to transcend this dualism, and 
the more unmistakable the contradictions in which he 
involves himself by his efforts, the clearer it becomes 
how heterogeneous are the elements which are united 
in his philosophy, and how difficult the problem which 
Greek philosophy had to face when once the opposition 
between idea and phenomenon, spirit and nature, had 
been brought so clearly and sharply into view as it was 
in the Platonic doctrine. 

1 Cf. p. 142 sq., supra, and the to God which Aristotle expressly 
proposition (p. 396, vol. i.) that applies to Ethics. 
only theoretic activity belongs 2 See p. 243, supra. 


Whether Aristotle provided the means of satisfac 
torily solving this problem, and what attempts in this 
direction were made by the later schools, it will be the 
task of this work to investigate as it proceeds. Those 
early followers who continued to build on Aristotelian 
foundations and who belonged to the Peripatetic school, 
could not be expected to find a more satisfactory answer 
to the main problem than Aristotle himself had suc 
ceeded in finding. Aristotle s own conclusions were much 
too deeply rooted in the fundamental presuppositions of 
his system to permit of their being altered without a 
reconstruction of the whole. Yet on the other hand, 
thinkers so keen and independent as the men of this 
school continued to be, could not shut their eyes to the 
difficulties of the Aristotelian doctrine, and it was there 
fore natural that they should devise means of escaping 
them. But since these difficulties ultimately arose from 
the fact that idealism and observation, a spiritual and a 
naturalistic view, had been united without being com 
pletely reconciled, and since such a reconciliation was im 
possible on the given premises, there was noway of solving 
the contradiction but by the suppression of one of its 
terms. It was, however, to be expected in the circum 
stances that the scientific should obtain the preference 
over the dialectic element, for it was the former that 
constituted the distinguishing characteristic of the 
Aristotelian school in opposition to the Platonic, and the 
new interest thus implanted in it by its founder naturally 
exercised a stronger fascination than the older doctrine 
of Ideas which had been handed down by the common 
tradition from Socrates and Plato. It was just this 


side of the Aristotelian system which might be expected 
chiefly to attract those who gave their allegiance to the 
later philosophy, and so to have an undue prominence 
assigned to it in subsequent deductions from Aristotelian 
ideas. The further development of the Peripatetic 
school corresponds to this expectation. Its most im 
portant result in the immediately succeeding period was 
to bring the purely naturalistic view of the world more 
and more into prominence, to the neglect of the spiritual 
side of things. 





AMONG the numerous pupils of the Stagirite, Theo 
phrastus occupies the first place. 1 Born at Eresos in 
Lesbos, 2 he came early (perhaps even before the death 
of Plato) into connection with Aristotle, 3 from whom in 

1 DlOG. v. 35 : rov 81] 
pirov ytyovaai fj.zv iro\\ol yvupiftoi, 

SlMPL. Phys. 225, a. and 
TWV ApicrroTeAous eT 
w id. Cater/. Schol. in 
Ar. 92, b, 22 : rbv apiarov ruv 
avrov fj.adr)Tuv rbv Qe6(pp. That 
he was actually so is evident 
from all that we know of Theo- 
phrastus and his position in the 
Peripatetic School. 

2 He is constantly called 
Epcffios. According to PLUT. Adv. 
Col. 33, 3, p. 1126; N.p. suav. vlvi 
sec. Epic. 15, 6, p. 1097, he had 
delivered his native city twice 
from Tyrants. No particulars, 
however, are given, and we are 
not in a position to test the his 
torical character of the state 

3 According to DIOG. v. 36 he 
first attended at Eresos the in 
structions of a citizen called 
Alcippus, elr aKOVffas FIAaTcoi/os 
[this is chronologically possible] 
lUereo TT? irpbs ApHTTOTeXyv by 
which it can only be meant that 

Theophrastus, like Aristotle him 
self, remained a member of the 
Academy until the death of 
Plato, and after that event con 
tinued with Aristotle. From 
several indications, moreover, we 
gather that Theophrastus was 
with Aristotle in Macedonia; for 
unreliable as is AELIAN S state 
ment ( V. H. iv. 19) that he was 
highly esteemed by Philip, it 
makes it all the more certain 
that he was a friend of Callis- 
thenes, whom he could only have 
come to know at that time, and 
that he lamented his tragic end 
in a work entitled KaAAio-fleVrjs ^ 
-jrepl -jrtvQovs (Cic. T-usc. iii. 10, 
21, v. 9, 25; DIOG. v. 44 ; ALEX. 
JDe An. 162, bjin.). The posses 
sion of a property at Stagira 
(DlOG. v. 52) and the repeated 
mention of this town, and of the 
museum in it, also go to prove 
that he was there at the same 
time as Aristotle. The expres 
sion which the latter is said to 
have used with regard to him and 
Callisthenes (DlOG. 39) is all the 


point of age he was not far removed. 1 Before his death 
Aristotle committed to his charge not only his private 
affairs 2 but also his School, which he had probably 
already handed over to him on his departure from 
Athens. 3 Under Theophrastus the school grew even 

more suspicious as it is also 
attributed to Plato and Isocrates 
(see Ph. d. Gr. i. 842, 1). Similarly 
the assertion that Theophrastus 
was originally called Tyrtamus, 
and received the name eJ^pa- 
<TTOS from Aristotle on account of 
his graceful style (STEABO, xiii. 
2, 4, p. 618 ; ClC. Orat. 19, 62 ; 
QUINTIL. Inst. x. 1, 83 ; PLIN. 
H. Nat. praef. 29; DIOG. 38; 
SUID. 0eo 4>p. ; AMMON. De Inter pr. 
17, b, and : OLYMPIOD. V. Plat. p. 
1) is justly called in question by 
BRANDIS, iii. 251, and MEYEE 
(Gesch. der jBotanik, i. 147). 

1 The year of Theophrastus s 
birth and death can only be 
determined approximately. Ac 
cording to APOLLODORUS (Diog. 
58) he died Ol. 123 (288-284 
B.C.), but the year is not given ; 
that it was the third year of the 
Olympiad (BR^NDIS, iii. 254; 
NAUWERCK, De Strat. 7), and 
that he was himself the head of 
the school for thirty-five (BEAN- 
DIS ibid.) or thirty-six (RiTTEE 
iii. 408) years is mere conjecture. 
OG. 40 gives his age as eighty- 
five, and this is far more prob 
able than the statement of the 
spurious letter prefixed to Theo 
phrastus s Characters, that he 
composed this treatise at the age 
of ninety-nine, and of HIERONY- 
MDS (Ep. 34 Ad Nepotian. iv. b, 
258 Mart., where our text has 
Themistoclem instead of Theo- 

irastum ), that he was 107, for 
log. probably here follows 

Apollodorus ; these statements, 
moreover, make him older than 
Aristotle, and much too old to be 
destined by the latter (see follow 
ing note) as the husband of his 
daughter, who was not yet grown 
up. According to Diog., Theo 
phrastus s birth falls between 
373 and 368 B.C. ; he was there 
fore from eleven to sixteen years 
younger than Aristotle. 

2 He begs Theophrastus, along 
with some others, until Nicanor 
can interest himself in the matter, 

Kal eV5e x?7Tcu aura!, r&v re iratSzW 
Kal EpTruAAiSos ital TUV KoraAe- 
AeiyU^eWj/, and in case Nicanor, 
for whose wife he had destined 
his daughter Pythias, should die 
before the marriage took place, 
he enjoins upon him the duty of 
marrying her in his stead and 
becoming the guardian of her 
younger brother. (See his Will, 
DIOG. v. 12, 13.) Theophrastus 
actually undertook the education 
of the latter, as he also after 
wards did that of the sons of Py 
thias (see p. 20, n. 3, vol. i. ; DIOG. 
53 ; SEXT. Math. i. 258), and his 
affection for him gave occasion 
to one Aristippus, irepl iraXaias 
Tpv\l/7)s, to accuse him of erotic 
relations with him (DiOG. 39). 
In his Will (ibid. 51 sq.) Theo 
phrastus leaves directions for 
the execution of pictures of Ari 
stotle and Nicomachus. 

3 See p 37, and p. 39, n. 1. 



more flourishing, 1 and when, after holding the presi 
dency for more than thirty-four years, 2 he died, honoured 
in spite of many hostile attacks 3 both at home and 
abroad, 4 he left it as an endowment the garden and the 
hall in which henceforth it had its settled abode. 5 Nor 

1 DlOG. 37 : a.TT f)VTcav re ls 
1-V Siarpi^V avrov /xaflrjTal Trpbs 
5iff Xi \iovs. If by this is meant 
that he had this number during 
his whole life we must suppose 
that the inner circle of his stu 
dents is referred to; if he had 
them all at one time it can only 
have been at single lectures, per 
haps on rhetoric or some other 
popular subject. Zeno s expres 
sion (PLUT. Prof, in Virt. c. 6 
fin. p. 78; De se ipso laud. c. 
*17, p. 545) 6 tKeivov xopbs pel&v, 

6 e jubs 8e (Tvp.Quj tTepos refers to 
the number of his students. 

2 See p. 349, n. 1, supra. 

3 See following note. Of the 
Epicureans besides Epicurus 
himself (PLUT. adv. Col. 7, 2, 
p. 1110) the hetaera Leontium 
aiso wrote against him ; CiC. N. 
I), i. 33, 93. 

4 Of foreign princes Cassan- 
der and Ptolemy, according to 
DIOG. 37, gave him proofs of 
their esteem ; to the former of 
whom was dedicated a treatise 
TT. j8a<nAeuxs, the genuineness of 
which, however, was doubted by 
some (DlOG. 47 ; DIONYS. Antl- 
mdtt. v. 73 ; ATHEN. iv. 144, e). 
The esteem in which he was 
held at Athens was shown at his 
burial (DlOG. 41), as also pre 
viously in the matter of the 
accusation of impiety brought 
against him by Agnonides, which 
failed completely (perhaps AE- 
LIAN, F. H. viii. 12, relates to 

this), and in the matter of the 
law of Sophocles (cf. also ATHEN. 
xiii. 610, e: KEISCHE, Forscli. 
338), which made the consent of 
the Senate and people necessary 
for the opening of a philosophical 
school. When, in consequence 
of this law (prob. ann. 306-5), 
all the philosophers, and among 
them Theophrastus, left Athens 
it is said to have been chiefly 
regard for him which caused its 
repeal and the punishment of its 
author; DlOG. 37 sq., cf. ZUMPT, 
Ueber den He-stand der pltilos. 
Sclmlen in AtJien, AM. der Berl. 
Aliad. liist.-pUL Kl. 1842, 41 sq. 
r> DlOG. 39 : Ae^ercu 8 avrbv 

TOV 4*aA7jpecos . . . rouro <rvfj.Trf 
IOJ/TOS. Theophrastus s will, i\ 
52 : rbv 8e KTITTOV Kal rbv 
irarov Kal ras oiKias ras 
KTJTTOJ Tracras Si Sco^u r&v _ 
fyiXwv del roTs jSouAo^ueVoiS 
A^Ceii Kal ffv/j.(f)i\offo(f)G iv eV aura; 
(e7reiS?57rep ou SuvaTbj/ Tracrjf dv6/ 


rpiovffi JU.TJT e|i 

dAA ebs &v tepbv Koij/p 

. . eo TCoa ai Se 01 k.uiyvawui -ic* 
"iTnrapxos &c. It is probable that 
the sanctuary of the Muses, de 
scribed 51 sq., with its two 
chambers, in one of which were 
hung the Trivatcts eV als al rrjs 77}* 
TrepioSoi elffiv, belonged to the 
buildings here mentioned. Froi 
the words, 39, 


were his services to the Peripatetic doctrine less con 
spicuous. In creative power of intellect he is not 
indeed to be compared with Aristotle. But he was in 
an especial degree fitted for the work of strengthening, 
extending and completing the system which the latter 
had left behind him. The interest in science by which 
he was governed even to excess, and which led him to 
subordinate all other concerns to its peaceful pursuit and 
even to forego the pleasures of the family life; l the insati 
able thirst for knowledge which drew from him even 
when dying complaints of the shortness of human life ; 2 
the industry which scarcely relaxed in extreme old age ; 3 
the penetration, conspicuous even in what has come 

ffTore\ovs reAeurV ZUMPT infers, 
ibid. 31 sq., that Aristotle had 
previously possessed this garden, 
and that as it was to be sold 
after his death Demetrius man 
aged that it should be trans 
ferred to Theophrastus. BRAN- 
Dis (iii. 253) considers this infer 
ence a rash one, but also sup 
poses that Aristotle taught in a 
house and garden of his own in 
the Lyceum. We have no infor 
mation, however, on this point ; 
yet the opposite cannot, after 
what has been said p. 38, vol. i., be 
inferred with any certainty from 
the fact that Aristotle s will 
makes no mention of any such 
property. Even the words upon 
which ZUMPT relies, if they have 
any special force, may with 
equal reason be held to imply 
that the Peripatetic school did 
not become the owner of property 
till after Aristotle s death. It is 
most probable, therefore, that 
Aristotle did not give his in 
structions in a garden of his own. 

According to ATHEN. v. 186, a 
(i. 402, Dind.), Theophrastus 
left behind him also means to 
provide common meals for mem 
bers of the school. 

1 That Theophrastus was still 
unmarried at the time of Ari 
stotle s death is obvious from the 
will of the latter (see p. 349, n. 
2, sujfra) ; that he remained so is 
obvious from his own and from 
the total absence of any state 
ment to the contrary, The reason 
why he disdained the married 
state he himself gives us in the 
fragment in HIEEON. Adv . Jovin. 
i. 47, iv. b, 189, Mart., hereafter to 
be discussed, where he dissuades 
the philosopher from it, chiefly 
on the ground that it brings 
with it disturbances incompatible 
with the scientific life. 

2 Cic. Tusc. iii. 28, 69; DIOG. 
v. 41 ; HIERON. JBjrist. 24 Ad 
Nepotian. iv. b, 258 Mart. 

3 DlOG. 40: ereAeuro 8)/ y-rj- 
paibs . . . TTi5r]irep b\(yov d^7j/ce 
TUV irovuv. 



down to us of his writings ; that grace of lan 
guage and delivery, the fame of which survived him, 1 
as well as the independence of his outward circum 
stances 2 and the possession of all the requisite means 
for the prosecution of his learned labours 3 all these 
must have contributed in a high degree to promote his 
success as a scientific investigator and teacher. The 
numerous writings which he left behind him as a monu 
ment to his diligence extend to every part of the field 
of knowledge that was then open. 4 To us only a small 

1 Of. besides the passages 
quoted supra, p. 348, n. 3 Jin. : 
Clc.Brut.3l, 121 : quit . . . Theo- 
plirasto dulcior ? Tusc. v. 9, 24 : 
hie autem elegantisximus omnium 
pliUosoplioru tn et eruditissimus. 
In his case, as in Aristotle s, this 
merit belongs chiefly to his 
popular writings, and especially 
to the dialogues, which, like Ari 
stotle s, are described as exoteric 
(see p. Ill, n. 2, 3, vol. i.). 
PROKL. In Farm. i. fin. p. 54 
Cous. complains that the intro 
ductions in them do not hang to 
gether with the main content. Ac 
cording to HERMIPPUS (ATHEN. 
i. 21, a) his personal adornment 
was excessive and his delivery 
too theatrical. Frequent men 
tion is made of his witticisms, 
e.g. PLUT. Qu. Conv. ii. 1, 9, 1, v. 
5, 2, 7 (vii. 10, 2, 15) ; Lycwrg. 
c. 10 (Cupid. Div. c. 8, p. 527; 
PORPH. De Abstin. iv. 4, p. 304). 

2 We may infer Theophras- 
tus s opulence from his will 
(DiOG. v. 51 sqq.). which speci 
fies considerable property in land, 
slaves, and money, although the 
total amount of the last ( 59 
sq.) is not stated. 

3 Mention is made of his 
library, of which Aristotle s 
constituted the ground floor, in 
STRABO, xiii. 1, 54, p. (508, and 
in his will (DiOG. 52 ; ATHEN. i. 
3, a, where TOVTOW shows that 
Theophrastus s name has fallen 
out after that of Aristotle). O. 
KIRCHNER, Die Botan. Sehr. d. 
Theophr. (Jalirb. f. Pkilol. Su/p- 
plementbd. vii. 1874, p. 4(52 sqq.), 
makes it appear probable from 
Theophrastus s botanical works 
that besides many parts of Greece 
and Macedonia he had visited 
Crete, Lower Egypt, perhaps also 
Southern Thrace, and the coast 
of Asia Minor, and thus added 
the knowledge of foreign coun 
tries to his other means of re 

4 Hermippus and Andronicus 
had made lists of his works (see 
p. 49, n. 4, vol. i. ; PLUT. Sulla, 
26; cf. PORPHYR. Vit. Plotini, 
24) ; DIOG. v. 42-50 has presented 
to us one (upon which cf. the 
minute investigations of USE- 
NER, Analecta TJieophrastea, 
Leipsic, 1858, 1-24; and on the 
treatises oil logic which it con 
tains, PRANTL, (resell, der Log. i. 


portion of these multitudinous works remains : the 
two on botany, 1 a few shorter treatises on natural 

350). This list not only omits 
some known writings (USENER, 
21 sq.) but follows a strange 
order. After two alphabetical 
lists, of which the second is 
clearly supplementary to the 
first, but both of which probably 
give only those of the writings 
of Theophrastus which were to 
be found in the Alexandrine or 
some other great library, follow 
two more supplements; the first 
of these is not arranged accord- 
ing to any definite principle, the 
second, if we exclude some in- 
sertions, is again alphabetical, 
It is not improbable that this 
list, as Usener thinks, is Her- 
mippus s, come to us (cf. KOBE, 
Arisl. Libr. Auct. 43 sq.) through 
Favorinus, from whom DIOG. 
immediatcly before (v. 41) quotes 
Hermippus, and whose name is 
also introduced before the list of 
ARIST. S writings (v. 21) and 
before PLATO S will (iii. 40). 
How far the writings here enu- 
merated are genuine we have 
scarcely any means of judging ; 
USENER, p. 17, makes it probable 
that a few of them (the History 
of Geometry, Astronomy, and 
Arithmetic, ^ perhaps also the 
History of Theological Opinions, 
v. 48, 50) belonged^ to Eudemus. 
1 n. Qvrav tarroplas nine books; 
0wrw//amj/six books. Ithasal- 
ready been shown (supra, vol. i. p. 
93, n. 2), that these works are by 
Iheophrastus and hot by Ari- 
stotle; in determining the date of 
their composition we have further 
to take into consideration the 
allusions, Hist. PL v. 2, 4, to the 
destruction of Megara by Deme- 

trius Poliorcetes (01. 118, 2 = 
306 B.C.), vi. 3, 3, to the archon- 
ship of Simonides (01 117 2) 
iv. 8, 2, to the expedition of 
Ophelias (01 118, 1), ix. 4, 8, to 
King Antigonus. Hist. PI v. 8, 
1, also refers to the period sub- 
sequent to the conquest of Cy- 
prus by Demetrius Poliorcetes 
(DiODOfius, xx. 47 sqq. 73 sqq.) 
and was therefore written after 
01. 118, 2. (Cf. BRANDIS, iii. 
322 sq.) SIMPLICITY S state- 
ment, Phys. I, a, that Ari- 
stotle tieated of plants partly 
historically and partly setioloi- 
cally can hardly refer to these 
two works, and is the less impor- 
tant since SIMPL. (as already re- 
marked, vol. i. p. 93, n. 2), had no 
personal acquaintance with Ari- 
stotle s treatise upon plants. In 
the two works ot Theophrastus, 
besides many corruptions in the 
text, there are a number of 
lacunae. In the IT. <pvr>v aln&v the 
last sections (perhaps two books, 
since DIOG. 46 speaks of the 
treatise as consisting of eipht) 
are unmistakably lost (cf 
SCHNEIDER, Tlieoplir. Opp. v. 
232 sqq.). The . ascription by 
DIOG. 46 of ten books to the 
Icrropia is perhaps to be explained 
by the supposition that one of 
those which we have (SCHNEI- 
DER, ibid, thinks the fourth, 
which certainly has a break, c. 
12 Jin.) was divided in some 
manuscripts; contrariwise the 
fact that Hist. viii. 4, 5 and ix. 
18, 2 are quoted by APOLLON. 
Mirab. 33, 41, as "respectively 
from and 77 irepl QVTUV points 
to the loss of one of the earlier 



science, 1 fragments of a work on metaphysics 2 and of 
the important history of physics 3 (which seems to have 
been the treasure-house from which later tradition chiefly 

books or its combination with 
another. On the other hand, 
the view that the ninth book of 
the botanical treatise did not 
originally belong to it ( WIMMER, 
Theoplir. Hist. Plant. 1842, p. 
ix.) is with good reason rejected 
by KIRCH NEK, De Theoplir. 
Libr. Pltytol. 34 sqq. : it is known 
as part of the treatise not 
only to DiOG. (ibid.) but to 
APOLLON., who in c. 29 quotes 
ix. 13, 3; 20, 4, c. 31, ix. 17, 4, 
c. 41, ix. 18, 2, c. 48, ix. 11, 11, 
c. 50, ix. 17, 3 (here expressly as 
the eVxarrj TTJS Trpay/J-areias) ; it 
is unmistakably referred to in 
the sixth book De Cans. Plant., 
even quoted ii. 6, 4 (cf . Hist. ix. 

18, 10), its contents are forecast 
i. 12, 1, and in 1, 4 ; 2, 2 ; 8, 8 ; 

19, 1, it refers back itself to the 
earlier books. Similarly MEYER 
(Gesch. d. Botanik, i. 176 sq.) 
and BRANDIS, iii. 32 sq., are 
right in again setting aside the 
view that the sixth book De 
Causis PI. could be a separate 
work or wholly spurious. Even 
the remarks upon the number 
seven, c. 4, 1, 2, which Brandis 
finds strange, contain nothing 
surprising; Aristotle had already 
counted seven primary colours 
and seven tastes corresponding to 
the seven notes (see supra, vol. i. 
p. 518, n. 3), and a statement 
similar to that which is here made 
about the number seven, is to he 
found in r TH.EOPW&.DeVe?itis(F\\ 
5), 49, about the number three. 

1 See SCHNETDEE, Opp. i 647 
sqq. WIMMEE, vol. ii. of his 
edition (1862). 

2 Metaphysical aporite, with 
regard to which we do not know 
whether they belonged to a more 
comprehensive work or merely to 
an introductory treatise. Ac 
cording to the scholium at the 
end, the work of which they 
were a part was not included 
either by Hermippus or by An- 
dronicus in their lists but quoted 
by Nicolaus (of Damascus). On 
the manifold corruptions of its 
text, see besides the edd. of 
BEANDIS (Arist. et TlieopJir. 
MctapU. 308 sqq.) and WIMMER 
(Frag in. No 12), USENER in the 
Rliein. M-u-s. xvi 259 sqq. 

3 This work is called some 
times (pVCTlKr) tlTTOpia (ALEX. 

apud SIMPL. Phys. 25, a, o.), 
sometimes fyvaiKa. (DiOG. ix. 22 ; 
SIMPL. De Ccelo, Schol. in Ar. 
510, a, 42; STOB. KM. i. 522), 
elsewhere fyvaiKal 8J|cu (DiOG. v. 
48), irepl (pvGiK&v (ibid. 46), IT. rS>v 
tyvffiK&v (ALEX. Metapli. 24, 4; 
Bon. 536, a, 8 bk.), TT. TO>J> fy 
5o|i/ (TAUEUS apud PHILOP. 
Adv. Prod. vi. 8, 27). DIOG. v, 
46, assigns to it eighteen hooks, v, 
48, 16. USENER, Anal. Tlieophr. 
30 sqq., has collated the frag 
ments of it ; but the treatise 
irepl cuo-0770-ecos Kal al<TQt}T(av (WlM 
MEE, fr. 1), which Philippson 
deals with, uArj avdpcaTrivr) (1831), 
81 sqq. (cf. USENER, ibid. 27) 
seems also to have belonged 
it. On the other hand, the su 
position that the extract a 
PHILO. JEtern. m. c. 23-27, p. 51 
sqq. Mang., is taken from 
(UsENER,p. 38; BERN AYS, TJi 
phrast. ub. Frommigk. 46) 


drew its accounts of the earlier physicists l ) besides a 
number of other fragments. 2 The Characters are only 
an incomplete extract, with several foreign additions, 
probably from Theophrastus s treatise upon Ethics. 3 

The chief feature of the scientific labours of Theo- 
phrastus, so far as these are known to us, is the 
endeavour to complete the compass and define more 
sharply the contents of Aristotelian doctrine. The 
fundamental principles of the system suffer no change 
and are not unfrequently stated in the very words of 
Aristotle. 4 Theophrastus, however, exerts himself to 
develop his doctrine as completely as possible on every 
side, to increase the number of scientific and ethical 

not commend itself ; for a dog 
matic and polemical discussion 
with Zeno the Stoic (as ZELLER 
has shown this to be in HERMES, 
xi. 422 sqq.) can have formed no 
part of an historical work, nor 
does it at all resemble the treat 
ise TT. ala-O^a-fws, either in tone or 
treatment. In the first book of 
the <$>V<TIK}I la-Topia THEOPHR. (as 
is shown in the Abhandl. d. 
Berl. Altad. 1877, p. 150 sqq.) 
had given a review of the prin 
ciples of earlier philosophers, in 
which he connected his work 
with the first book of ARIST. S 

1 Fuller proof of this fact, 
which he was the first to per 
ceive, will be found in H. DIELS 
recent work, Doxograplti Gr^ci, 
as also ibid. p. 473 sq. the 
fragments of the tyvcriKal So cu. 

2 To those collected in Wim- 
mer must be added chiefly the 
remainder of the treatise Trepi 

s, which BERNAYS (TllCO- 

phrast. Schrift iiber Frommig- 
keit) cleverly recovered from 
PORPHYRY S De Abstinentia. 
The treatise on indivisible lines 
was also attributed to him, 
perhaps rightly. By some even 
ARIST. S Politics (see vol. ii. supra , 
p. 204, n. 2) was referred to Theo 
phrastus. More recent writers 
have attributed to him the trea 
tises upon colour (SCHNEIDER, iv. 
8fi4, who, however, considers 
them only a portion of a larger 
work; on the other side see 
PRANTL, Arist. v. d. Farben, 84 
sq.), upon Melissus, Xenophanes 
ic. (on this see Ph. d. Gr. i. 476 

3 On this and on the ethical 
writings of Theophrastus see in 

4 As among others, KIRCH- 
NER, Jalirb. f. Philol. Supple- 
mentb. vii. 532 sqq. has shown 
in respect of the botanical 

A A 2 



observations, to apply the Aristotelian rules to particular 
cases, especially to those which had been overlooked by 
Aristotle, to correct the vagueness of particular con 
ceptions and to set them in a clear light. 1 His sta-rting- 
point is experience. As Aristotle in all his investiga 
tions had taken his stand upon the firm ground of fact 
and had established even the most universal conceptions 
upon the basis of a comprehensive induction, Theo- 
phrastus also is convinced that we must begin with 
observation in order to attain to true conceptions. 
Theories must coincide with the data of experience, and 
they will do so if we start with the consideration of the 
individual; 2 perception furnishes the material which 
thought may either straightway apply to its own ends 
or by solving the difficulties which experience brings to 
light may utilise for future discoveries. 3 Natural science, 

Cf. BOETH. De Inter pr. p. 
292 : Tlicoplirastus, lit in aliis 
solet, quwn de similibus rebus 
tractat, qua scilicet ab Aristotele 
ante tractate sunt, in libra 
qnoque de affirmations et nega- 
tione iisdeni aliquibus verbis 
utitur, quibus in hoc libra Ari- 
stoteles usus est . . . in omnibus 
enim, <fe quibus ipse disputat post 
maijistruw, leviter ea tangit, qua 
ab Aristotele dicta ante cognovit, 
alias vero diligentius res non ab 
Aristotele tractatas escsequitur. 
2 Cans. PL i- 1, 1 = ^ 7*P 
Qai rovs \6yovs rols 

7 6: K 


Gtwpovai ffv^cavos 6 
\6yos TWV yiyvofjLevwv. ii. 3, 5 : 
Trepl 8e T&V i> rols 

iVfe (Metaph.), 19 : TO 8e 

<pai>ep6i>. f] yap 
ras alrias 

eiVeli/ us 

iai/oia, ra p.ev air\u>s frrovcra 
airopiav epyao/j.i>Tf), 8t i)S 
Sui/rjrai irpopaiveiv, 
TI $cas eV r< /J.rj 
eTrl TT\fov. Ibid. 25 : 
. oiiv Tivbs Svvd/jLeOa Si 
alriov deupeiv, apxas aTrb rcav 
alffdriffeuv \afj.$a.voi>T*s. CLEMENS, 
Strom, ii. 362, D ; e^p. 5e rr/v 
aiffQ^ffiv apxw elvat Tritrrews ^ffiv 
airb yap ravrris at apx a ^ "TP^S rbv 
\6yov T^V eV rj/juv Kal rr]V Stavotai 
eKTeivovTai. SEXT. Math. vii. 
217 : Aristotle and Theophrastus 
have two criteria, aiffQi)<nv pcf 
TU>V alffBriTcav, v6-t]<nv 8e rwv vot\- 
ruv Kowfo 8e a^orepcoj/, &>s 
6<pp., TO tvapyes. 


moreover, must rest upon perception because it lias to 
do wholly with corporeal substance. 1 Theophrastus 
accordingly keeps this principle steadily in view. Where 
universal laws fail to explain particular facts, he does 
not hesitate to refer us back to experience ; 2 where no 
complete certainty is possible he will content himself, 
like Plato and Aristotle, with mere probability ; 3 where 
more exact proofs fail, he, like his master, brings analogy 
to his aid, 4 but he warns us at the same time not to 
carry analogy too far or to mistake the peculiar 
characteristics of phenomena, 5 just as Aristotle had laid 
down as a fundamental axiom that everything must 
be explained upon principles peculiar to itself. 6 We 
cannot say, in truth, that Theophrastus has entirely 
renounced the comprehensive and universal points of 
view ; but his own inclinations and scientific researches 

1 Fr. 18 : eirel 5e OVK avev u.ev rovs 

KLvrjo-ews ovSe^ irepl evbs Ae/creW, 3 SlMPL. Pkys. 5, a, m : 

irdvra yap ev Kiv^aei ra TT?S natural science cannot arrive at 

Qvo-ews,^ avev Se aXXoiwriKTJs Kal the complete certainty of know- 

TraflTjTt/ojs oi>x inrep ruv irepl rb ledge ; aAA OVK ar iu.a(rr eov Sia 

peffov, els ravra re Kal irepl rovrwv rovro tyvaioXoyiav aAA apKe iffdai 

Xeyovras ovx ol6v re Kara\nre7v xpb r V K Ta rfyv ^fMerepav xP : n ffLV 

rrjv aJarOrjffiv, aAA awb ravrr\s Kal Svva/j.iv, ws Kal eo^pacrTaj So/ce?. 

apxofj.evovs^ Treipao-6ai xp*l Oewpelv, Cf. also supra, vol. i. p. 167 sq. 

^ ra (paivo/aeva Xa/nftdvovras /ca0 4 See Cans. PL iv. 4, 9-11 ; 

eavra, ?) aTrb rovrcav, ef rives apa Hist. i. 1, 10 sq. 

I Kvpuarepai Kal Trp6repai rovrcav 5 Hist. i. 1, 4 : we must be- 

"PX ai - ware of comparing plants with 

2 Cans. PL ii. 4, 8 : dAA ev animals in every respect. &<rre 
( ro?s KaOeKao-ra rb aKpifies u.a\\ov ravra /j.ev ovrcas vTro\r)irreov ov 
, tvcas alo-OrjriKTis Selrai o-vveaecas, pdvov els ra vvv ctAAa Kal r<av 
I Ao ycfj Se OVK evpapes a^opiVat. Cf . /neXXovrcav \o.piv offa yap /n^ oiov 
j Hist. i. 3, 5. The differences re acpou-oiovv irepiepyov rb y\ixe- 
I between botanical species are o-0ai irdvrus, iva ^ Kal r^v oiKe .av 
I somewhat vague ; Sia Sr? ravra a.irofia.XXwu,ev dewpiav. 

wfTTrep Xeyo^ev OVK aKpL/3o\oyTr]Teov ti See mflra, vol. i. p. 249, n. 

? opqu dAAa r$ rvircp \rjirreov 1, 2, 3. 


have an unmistakable bias in the direction of particulars 
rather than fundamental principles. 

This is the method which Theophrastus and, follow 
ing him, Eudemus have adopted in their treatment of 
logic. While holding fast by Aristotelian principles, 
they have permitted themselves many divergences in 
detail. 1 In discussing the Conception, for instance, 
Theophrastus refused to admit that all contraries belong 
to the same genus. 2 The doctrine of the Judgment, 
again, to which both Eudemus and he devoted separate 
treatises, 3 received at their hands various additions, 
which, however, so far as we know, were of no great 
importance. 4 They introduced a slight change in the 

1 Of. PEANTL, Gesch. der Log. Arist. 146, a, 24; GALEN, ibid. On 
i. 346 sqq., who, however, seems their other logical treatises cf. 
to undervalue the contributions supra, vol. i. p. 64, n. 1.. PEANTL, 
of Theophrastus and Eudemus p. 350, and Eth. End. i. 6 Ji n. ii. 
to Logic. 6, 1222, b, 37, c. 10, 1227, a, 10. 

2 Cf. fr. 15 (SiMPL. Categ. 4 Theophrastus distinguishes 
105, a ; Schol. in Ar. 89, a, 15). in his treatise TT. /caro^ao-ews 
ALEX, on MetapJi. 1018, a, 25 ; between different meanings of 
also supra, vol. i. p. 224, n. 3. irpoTacris (ALEX. Anal. Pr. 5, a, 

3 Theophrastus in the treat- m . ; ibid. 124, a; Top. 83, a, 
ises irepl KaTatyda-ews Kal a?ro(/)a- 189, a. Similar distinctions are 
ffeuis (DiOG. 44, 46 ; ALEX, in quoted from the same treatise 
Anal. Pr. 5, a, m, 21. b, m, and that TT. TOV rioAAaxws (which 
124, a, 128; Metaph. 653, b, was probably on the model of Ari- 
15; GALEN, Libr. Propr. 11, stotle s see sup. vol. i. p. 76 sq.); 
xix. 42, K; BOETH. Ad Arist. Eudemus noticed the predicative 
de Interpr. 281, 286, 291, 327, force of the verb to be in exis- 
(Biile) ; Schol. in Ar. 97, a, 38, tential propositions (Anon. Schol. 
99, b, 36 ; PEANTL, 350, 4), IT. in Arist. 146, a, 24, and for 
Ae lecos (DiOG. 47 ; DIONYS. Hal. another remark of Eudemus on 
Comp. Verb. p. 212, Schaf.), IT. the verb to be see ALEX. Anal. 
TU>V TOV \6yov ffToixeitw (as Pr. 6, b, m). Theophrastus called 
PEANTL, 353, 23. in SIMPL. Categ. particular propositions indeter- 
3, )8, Bale, rightly emends), minate (see sup. vol. i.p. 233. n. 1, 
As to Eudemus, TT. Aeneas, see and BOETH. De Interpr. 340, m ; 
ALEX. Anal. Pr. 6, b, in Metaph. Schol. in WAITZ, Ar. Orcf. i. 40 ; 
566, b, 15, Br. ; Anon. Schol. in PEANTL, 356, 28), and Aristotle s 


theory of the Conversion of Propositions, with which 
Aristotle s treatment of the Syllogism begins, by sub 
stituting a direct, in place of Aristotle s indirect, proof 
of the simple converse of universal negative proposi 
tions. 1 As they further approached the question of the 
Modality of Judgments from a different side, 2 they con- 

indeterminate e/c juerafleVecos (see 
supra, vol. i. p. 232, n. 2 ; Steplia- 
nus and Cod. Laur. in WAITZ, 
ibid. 41 sq ; and on his reasons for 
doing so, PRANTL, 357). He dis 
tinguished in particular negative 
propositions between not all 
and some not (Scliol. in Ar. 
145, a, 30). In regard to the 
modality of judgments he made 
a distinction between simple ne 
cessity and necessity resulting 
from particular circumstances 
(ALEX. An. P. 12, b, u.). He 
elucidated contradictory opposi 
tion, which he declared in general 
to be indemonstrable (ALEX, on 
Metapli. 1006, a, 11, p. 653, b, 15, 
Br.), with the remark that con 
tradictory propositions are abso 
lutely exclusive of one another 
only when their meaning is fixed 
and definite (Scliol. Amlros. in 
WAITZ, ibid. 40), a caution 
against sophistical objections to 
which PRANTL, p. 356, unneces 
sarily takes exception. 

1 In AEIST. Anal. Pr. i. 2, 25, 
a, 15, it stands: ei ytnjSevl rwv B 
rb A vtrdpxei, ouSe rwv A ovSevl 
inrdp^fL Tb B. et ydp Tiz/t, oiov ry 
T, oi>K d\rj6fs e<rrai TO /j.f]Sei>l TU>V 
B rb A virdpx^iv T ^> 7P F rav 
B TL <TTIV. Theopbrastus and 
Eudemus put it more simply : 
if no B is A, A is separate from 
all B, B is therefore separate 
from all A, and therefore no A is 
B (ALEX. An. Pri. 11, a, m. 12, 

a. ; PHILOP. An. Pr. xiii. b ; 
Schol. in Ar. 148, b, 46 ; cf. the 
scholium which PRANTL, 364, 
45, gives from Minas). PRANTL 
criticises this convenient proof: 
ZELLER, on the contrarj-, con 
siders it the right one, and says 
that he cannot find for that of 
Aristotle reasons founded on the 
very nature of genus and species 
as Prantl professes to do. 

2 Aristotle had taken the con 
ceptions of possibility and neces 
sity, as has been remarked (see 
slip. vol. i. p. 234 sq.) to express a 
quality of things, not of our know 
ledge of things. By the possible he 
does not understand that which 
we have no reason to deny, nor by 
the necessary that which we are 
forced to accept, but by the 
former that which by nature may 
equally be or not be, by the latter 
that which by its nature must be. 
Theophrastus and Eudemus, in 
deed, have left us no general 
statement on this subject (even in 
the passage quoted by PRANTL, 
362, 41, from ALEX. Anal. Pr. 
51, a, only the words rpirov 
rb virdpxov [sc.,yKou6v tffTiv] 
ore yap virdpxei Tore ovx olov 
T p. r] virapxtw, seem to be 
long to THEO. S Prior Analytics, 
while the rest belong to Alex 
ander himself) ; but it is obvious 
from their departures from Ari 
stotle, which we are about to men 
tion, that they take possibility 



sequently denied what Aristotle had affirmed, that 
every assertion of possibility implies the opposite possi 
bility, and they maintained, against his denial, the 
convertibility of universal negative judgments of possi 
bility ; l while with regard to conclusions whose pre 
mises are of different modality, they held firmly by the 
principle that the conclusion follows the weaker premise. 2 
We further know that Theophrastus added to the four 
Modes which Aristotle had assigned to the first Figure 
five new ones, obtained by the conversion of the con 
clusions or the premises, a development in which we 
certainly fail to see any advantage, 3 and it is possible 
that he treated the two other Figures in the same way, 4 
asserting at the same time, in opposition to Aristotle, 
that these also give perfect conclusions. 5 He also 

and necessity only in the formal sq.and on the third case, PHTLOP. 

logical sense. Anal. Pr. li. a ; Scliol. in Arlst. 

1 See sup. vol. i. p. 234 sq.and 166, a, 12; on an argument of 

ALEX. Anal. Pr. 14, a, m. ; Anon. Theophrastus relating to this, 

ScJiol. ifiAr. 150, a, 8. The proofs ALEX. Anal. Pr. 82, b.). 
of the two Peripatetics are given 
in a scholium which PEANTL, 364. 

45, prints from MINAS S notes on 

3 For details see ALEX. Anal. 

Pr. 22, b. 34, b. 35, a ; Anon. 

Schol. in Ar. 188, a, 4, and 

Galen s Eiffaywy}] SmAe/cTi/cr?, p. PRANTL S citations, 365, 46, from 
100. The same writer s quota- APUL. De Interjjr. (Dogm. Plat. 
tion, 362, 41, from BOETH. In- iii.), 273 sq. 280, Oud. ; HOETH. 
terpr. 428, upon Theophrastus Syll. Cat. 594 sq ; PHILOP. An. 
relates merely to an unimportant Pr. xxi. b (Schol. 152, b, 15) ; cf. 
explanation. Similarly a modifi- also UEBEEWEG, Loyik, 282 sqq. 
cation of an Aristotelian argu- 4 As PRANTL, 368 sq., conjec- 

ment mentioned by ALEX. Ana 1 ., tures from ALEX. Anal. Pr. 35, 

Pr. 42, b, n. is, as PI4ANTL, p. 
370, also remarks, insignificant. 

Cf. following note. 
Sohol. in WAITZ, Arist. 

2 From an apodeictic and a Ortj. \. 45 : <5 Se BoyObs . . . 

categorical premise follows, they ^vaa/rius rep ApiororeAei irepl TOV- 

said, a. categorical ; from a cate- TOV eSo^acre . . . /ecu a7re8eiei/, on 

gorical and hypothetical, a hypo- Traj/res ol eV Sevrfpy KCU rpiTy 

thetical ; from an apodeictic and ax h/ ul - aTi Te Aetof el<riv (which Ari- 

hypothetical also a hypothetical stotle denies, see siyira, vol. i. p. 

conclusion (see sup. vol. i. p. 234 240, 11. 4). . . . ^atVerai Sc ral to- 


changed the order of several of the Modes. 1 It is more 
important, however, to note that Theophrastus and 
Eudemus introduced into logic the theory of Hypo 
thetical and Disjunctive Syllogisms. 2 Both of these 
they embraced under the name Hypothetical, pointing 
out that in the Disjunctive also that which is undeter 
mined at first is afterwards determined by the addition 
of a second clause. 3 They distinguished further two 
kinds of hypothetical conclusions : those which, consist 
ing of purely hypothetical propositions, only assign the 
conditions under which something is or is not the case, 4 

(ppaffros . . . T})V tvavTiav avrcf 
(Aristotle) nepl TOVTOV 86av ex^v. 

1 In the third, figure he placed 
the fourth of Aristotle s modes 
as simpler before the third, and 
the sixth before the fifth ( Anon. 
Schol. in Ar. 155, b, 8 ; PHILOP. 
ibid. 34, 156, a, 11), adding a 
seventh mode which he obtained 
by dividing the first (APUL. ibid. 
p. 276). 

2 As ALEX. An. Pr. 131, b. ; 
PHILOP. An. Pr. Ix. a; ScJwl. 
in Ar. 169, b, 25 sqq., expressly 
state. According to BOETH. 
S i/ll. Hyjwth. 606 (in PRANTL, 
879, 59), Eudemus treated this 
subject more fully than Theo 
phrastus. Much less important 
are the citations from Theophras- 
tus s discussions upon syllogisms 
Kara irp6a \f]^iv given by ALEX. 
An. Pr. 128, a., cf. 88, a, m. ; 
PHILOP, cii. a; Schol. in Ar. 189, 
b, 12; Anon. ibid. 1. 43, 190, a, 
18, cf. PBANTL, 376 sq. These 
are syllogisms formed of propo 
sitions such as those mentioned 
by Aristotle, Anal. Pr. ii. 5, 58, 
a, 2!). b, 10 : & TO A /iTjSeri rb B 
iravrl inrapxei &c. According to 

ALEX. 128, a, Schol. 190, a, 1, 
however, Theophrastus expressly 
said that these differ from ordi 
nary categorical propositions only 
in form ; that he nevertheless 
entered with such minuteness 
into the discussion of them is 
only one of the many proofs of 
the frequently misspent industry 
with which he traversed every 

3 Cf. PHILOP. An. Pr. Ix. b ; 
Schol. in Ar. 170, a, 30 sqq. ; 
ALEX. An. Pr. 109, b, m. That 
both these writers in the passages 
named follow the Peripatetic 
view, as presented by Theo 
phrastus and Eudemus, is obvi 
ous from the whole context. 

OVK effTLV ^ TL fffTl SeiKVVVTS ( if 

A is, B is if B is, C is if A is, 
C is ), which are called by Theo 
phrastus Sia Tpiwv viroOeTLKol or 
Si oXuv v-jToQtTiKol, as also on 
account of the similarity of the 
three propositions KO.T avaXoyiav. 
Theophrastus distinguished three 
forms of these syllogisms corre 
sponding to the three Aristote 
lian figures of the categorical 



and those which prove that something is or is not. 1 Of* 
the latter a further division is made into those with a 
hypothetical and those with a disjunctive form, 2 both 
of which classes, however, agree in this that what is 
stated in the major premise as possible is either affirmed 
or denied in the minor 3 Under the hypothetical are 
finally classed Comparative, 4 or, as the Peripatetics 
called them, Qualitative Syllogisms. 5 

syllogism, except that he trans 
posed the order of the second 
and third. ALEX. Anal. Pr. 
109, b, rn. 110, a.; cf. 88, b. ; 
PHILOP. ibid. 170, a, 13 sqq. 179, 
a, 13 sqq. 189, a, 38. 

1 PHILOP. Scltol. in AT. 170, a, 
14, 30 sqq. Cf. ALEX. An. Pr. 88, b. 

2 PHILOP. ibid. : ra>v rb elvai 
}} IJ.T) elvai Kara(TKva^6vT(tiv viro- 
0TiKcav ol /m.v a.Ko\ovdlav Kara- 
ffKfvdovffiv ol 5e $idev%iv kc. Of 
the first, two forms are next enu 
merated : those which by affirming 
the antecedent affirm the conse 
quent, and those which by deny 
ing the consequent deny the 
antecedent ( If A is, B is. But 
A is, &c. ; and : If A is, B is. 
But B is not, c.) . Of the second 
by a more complicated classifica 
tion three forms : (1) A is not 
at the same time B and C and D. 
But it is B. Therefore it is 
neither C nor D. (2) A is either 
B or C. But it is B. Therefore 
it is not C. (3) A is either B or 0. 
But it is not B. Therefore it is C. 

3 This categorical minor pre 
mise following on a conditional 
or disjunctive major, for which 
the Stoics afterwards invented 
the name Trp6<r\r]^Ls, the older 
Peripatetics (ot apx^uoi, ol irepl 
Api<rTOTe\r)v, cf. PEANTL, 385, 
68), following AEIST. (Anal Pr. 
i. 23, 41, a, 30; cf. WAITZ, in, 

loco ; c. 29, 45, b, 15), called 
fj.fTd\^is (ALEX. An. Pr. 88, a, 
o. 109, a, m. ; PHILOP. Scliol. in 
AT. 169, b, 47, 178, b, G). If this 
minor itself receives proof from 
a categorical syllogism we have 
the so-called mixed syllogism 
(ALEX. 87, b, m. sq.). The con 
ditional sentence is called o-vvn/j.- 
fjLfvov, the antecedent being the 
riyovpevov , the consequent the 
kivo^vov (PHILOP. Scliol. in AT. 
169, b, 40). Theophrastus, how 
ever, remarked the difference 
here between those conditional 
sentences in which the condition 
is introduced problematically by 
an Ei and those in which it is 
introduced affirmatively by an 
ETre) (SiMPL. De Ccelo, Scliol 
509, a, 3). He remarked also 
(ALEX. Anal. Pr. 131, b. Aid.; 
cf. PRANTL, 378, 57) that the 
AieraATj^is again is either a mere 
hypothesis, or immediately cer 
tain, or demonstrated either in 
ductively or deductively. 

4 Ol a-rrb TOV yiiaAAoi> Kal TOV 
6/jioiov KOL TOV riTTov, e.g. : if the 
less precious is a good, so also is 
the more precious ; but wealth 
which is less precious than health 
is a good, therefore health is so 
also. Upon this see ALEX. An, 
Pr. 88, b, m. 109, a. b. ; PHILOP, 
An. Pr. Ixxiv. b ; PRANTL, 389 sqq, 

5 Kara TrotoTT/ra, probably fol- 


No contributions of any importance to the second 
main division of the Analytics the doctrine of Demon 
stration have come down to us from Theophrastus or 
Eudemus, 1 and we may therefore assume that neither 
of them differed in any important point from the con 
clusions of Aristotle on this subject. The same is 
in substance true of the Topics, to which Theophrastus 
bad devoted several treatises. 2 It cannot be proved that 
he interpreted the subject-matter of the science dif 
ferently from Aristotle ; 3 nor do the isolated utterances 
on this head which have come to us from Theophrastus 
and Eudemus go beyond a few formal extensions of 
Aristotelian doctrines. 4 

lowing ARIST. An. Pr. i. 29, 45, 
b, 16 where, however, this ex 
pression is not further explained. 
1 Even PEANTL (p. 392 sq.) 
has failed to find more than two 
statements referring to this sub 
ject : one in PHILOP. An. Post. 
17, b. ; Schol. in Ar. 205, a, 
46, distinguishing between fi 
curb and a0 avro, the other the 
remark in the anonymous scho 
lium, ibid. 240, a, 47, that defi 
nition is embraced under demon 
stration. Equally unimportant 
are the remarks on /ca0 avrb in 
ALEX. Qu. jVat. i. 26, p. 82, 
Speng. ; on definition in BoETH. 
Interpr. ii. 318, Schol. 110, a, 
34 ; on definition and demonstra 
tion in Eustrat. in Libr. ii. ; Anal. 
Post. 11, a, o. ; Schol. 242, a, 17; 
cf. ibid. 240, a, 47 : on the im 
possibility of proving contradic 
tory propositions in ALEX, on 
Metaph. 1006, a, 14 ; SYRIAN, in 
Metaph. 872, b, 11 (from the 
treatise TT. Kara^aaews) : and the 
definition of a|fw/ia in THE MIST. 

Anal. Post. 2, a; Schol. 199, 
b, 46. 

2 Cf. PRANTL, 350 sq. nn. 11- 

3 PEANTL, p. 352, infers it 
from the statement (AMMON. 
De Interpr. 53, a. ; Schol. in 
Ar.lQS, b, 27; Anon. ibid. 94, 
a, 16) that Theophrastus dis 
tinguished a twofold relation, 
one to the fact in regard to which 
the question is one of truth or 
falsehood, the other to the 
hearers ; but the latter is here 
assigned not to dialectic but to 
poetry and rhetoric. The cita 
tion from the Analytics of EUDE 
MUS in ALEX. Top. 70, is also 
quite Aristotelian. 

4 Theophrastus distinguished 
between TOKOS and. Trapdyy\/u.a, 
understanding by the latter a 
rule which is general and in 
definite, by the former one that 
is definite (ALEX. Top. 72 ; cf. 
5, m. 68) ; of the topical heads, 
which Aristotle had enumerated 
(ytvos and tiicupopa, ftpos, ftuoi/, 



The conclusion to which we are so far led, namely, 
that Theophrastus is by no means inclined blindly to 
accept the Aristotelian doctrines, becomes still more 
obvious from the fragment on Metaphysics. 1 The diffi 
culties (aTToplai) suggested in this fragment are directed 
in great part to Aristotelian assumptions, but we are 
left wholly in the dark as to whether and in what way 
the author found the solution of them. Starting from 
the distinction between First Philosophy and Physics, 
Theophrastus here asks how their respective objects, 
the supersensible and the sensible, are related to one 
another ; and after proving that there must be some 
common bond of union between them and that the super 
sensible must involve the sensible, he goes on to examine 
how this is possible. 2 The principles of Mathematics 
(to which Speusippus had assigned the highest place) 
are insufficient for the solution of the problem ; we 
require a higher principle, and this we can find only in 
God. 3 God, therefore, must be the cause of motion in 

ravrbv} he placed 
, as well as Siatyopa, under 
(ibid. 25), and all others 
except (rv/j.fie&riKbs under opos 
(ibid. 31 this is all that we 
are told, but PRANTL, p. 395, 
seems to be wrong in his in 
terpretation, cf. BRANDIS, iii. 
279). He asserted to pass over 
some still more unimportant 
remarks which are quoted by 
ALEX, on Metaph. 1021, a, 31, 
and T>p. 15 (Schol. 277, l>, 32) 
that opposites do not fall under 
one and the same generic con 
ception (see sup. voi. ii. 358, n. 2). 
Theophrastus s divison of jvu> t uaL 

(GREGOR. CORINTH, ad Hermog. 
de Meth. vii. 1154, w.), Eude- 
mus s division of questions (ALEX. 
Top. 38), and his classificatioi 
of fallacies irapa TTJV \4iv (that 
is if GALEN. TT. r. irapo. r. Ae {. 
ffofpifffj.. 3. xiv. 589 sqq. follows 
him), will be found in PRANTL, 
397 sq. 

1 See supra, vol. ii. p. 354, n. 2. 

2 1 sqq. ; 2 read apx*) 
Trorepa, &c., we begin here with 
the question whether, &c. 

3 3 sq. according to USENER S 
emendation (see p. 354, n. 2, 
supra) of which WIMMER, p. 151, 
1 1 , ventured to accept even old re 


the world. He produces that motion, however, not in 
virtue of any movement in himself, bat of a causality more 
accordant with his nature : he is the object of desire to all 
the lower creation, and this alone is the cause of the 
endless movement of the heavens, Satisfactory though 
this view undoubtedly seemed in many respects, 1 it was 
not without its difficulties. If there be only one moving 
principle, why have not all the spheres the same move 
ment ? If there are several, how can we explain the har 
mony of their movements ? But a satisfactory reason must 
also be assigned for the multiplicity of the spheres, and, 
in fine, everything must be explained as the outcome of 
design. Why, moreover, should this natural desire of 
the spheres be directed to motion rather than to rest ? 
And does not desire presuppose a soul, and therefore 
motion ? 2 Why do not things under the moon as well 

for#o"Te; 4 we might propose to for avyvvTov we should perhaps 

read : eV 0X17015 sivai Kal irpcarois, read apiffrov). In 8 the remark 

ei JUT? apa Kal eV r<$ irpdorcp. relating to the Platonists (T! ovv 

1 6 : /J-^xpt V*v 8)] rovrw afj-a rfj /j.i/j.r]<rfi, &c.) is hardly 

olov dpnos 6 \6yos, apx^v re TTOIWV intelligible, probably on account 

/niav iravrwv, Kal rr]v evepyeiav Kal of the corruption of the text. 

rfyv ovaiav cbroStSous, ert 5e fjt.}] The sense ascribed to it by 

Siatperbv /uTjSe iroaov ri Ae-ycoi/, aAA BRANDTS, iii. 328 sq. (q.v.), seems 

air\ws f^aipcav els /cpetTTco nva. to be neither contained in 

juepi Scc Kal detorepav. That every- the text nor admissible in itself, 

thing has a natural desire for In the following words (et 87? 

the good is also stated by e0eo-ts, a\\ws re Kal rov apivrov, 

Theoph. in the fr. (from irepl ^era ^VXTJS, et ^77 TIS Ae yot Ka0 

TrAowTOf) Schol. in Plat. Legg. p- o / aot^T77Ta Kal Siaffropav, e^u^ &j/ 

449, 8 Bekk. : et farji *lx*v & enj ra Kiv6v^va) USENEE, p. 267, 

TrAoGros, irpbs fiovovs Uv <x7T7?A0e in place of Sia(popav happily reads 

TOUS ayaOovs. e/cao Toi yap rov /u.ra<popav : unless the expres- 

otKtj ou e^t erat dyaOov, for this sion e^>eo"ts is used by a mere 

alone accords with its nature, analogy and improperly. Even 

travra 8e TT]S /cara $v<jiv opeyerai the fragment quoted in the 

StafleVews. previous note speaks only of 

- 7 sq. (where 1. 12 W living things. 


as things above it desire the best ? And how is it that 
in the heavenly sphere this desire produces nothing 
higher than rotation ? For the movements of the soul 
and the reason are of a higher order than this. To this, 
however, it might be replied that all things cannot 
attain to like perfection. Finally we might ask whether 
motion and desire are essential or merely accidental 
attributes of the heavens. 1 Touching further on the 
necessity of deducing not only some but all reality from 
first principles, 2 we find that even in reference to these 
first principles themselves many new questions are sug 
gested. Are they formless and material, or endowed 
with form, or both ? And if the first of these assump 
tions is obviously inadmissible, there is also a difficulty 
in attributing design to everything however insignifi 
cant. We should therefore have to determine how far 
order extends in the world and why it ceases at certain 
points. 3 Again, what are we to say of rest ? Has it 
like motion, to be deduced as something real from our 
first principles, or does positive reality belong only to 
energy among sensible objects only to motion and is 
rest only a cessation of motion ? 4 How, again, are we to 
describe the relation of Form and Matter ? Is matter 

1 9-11. In 10 instead of the Platonists are accused in th( 
(rv/j./3aivei USENER reads Xapfidvei ; sequel of doing. 

it would be better to read: 3 14 sqq. ; 15 n. where 

o-ujujSoiVet yap elvai K. tru/ijS. instead of airo we ought to reac 

2 11-13 where, however, p. av r6. 

153, W.n. we must punctuate thus: 4 This apparently is the sense 

curb 5 ovv ravT-rjs $ TOVTWV ru>v of the first half of 16 : what 

apx&v a^idaffeiev &v ris, ra%a 5e wal follows, however, as it stands, is, 

ctTro r&v &\\ocv &p , &v ns TiflfJToi, as BRANDTS, p. 332, says, unin- 

^ telligible, 



non-existent although endowed with potential reality, 
or is it an existence although still void of any definite 
form ? l Why is the whole universe divided into contra 
ries so that there is nothing without its opposite ? Why 
does the worse far exceed in quantity the better ? 2 And 
since on account of this diversity in things knowledge 
also is of different kinds, the question rises what method 
we are to adopt in each case and how we are to define 
the nature and the kinds of knowledge. 3 To assign 
causes to everything is impossible, for we cannot go on 
ad infinitum either in the sensible or the supersensible 
world without renouncing the possibility of knowledge ; 
but we can go a little way in that direction in advancing 
from the sensible to the supersensible. When, however, 
we reach ultimate grounds of reality we can go no 
further, either because these have themselves no cause 
or because our eyes are too weak to penetrate into the 
brightest light. 4 But if it be thought that the mind 
knows these by immediate contact and therefore in 
fallibly, 5 yet it is not easy, however necessary, to say 
what it is of which we make this assertion and which is 
the object of this immediate knowledge. 6 Granted, 

1 17. Instead of Sui/a^et 8 ey and p. 246 sqq.) in the same 
(Br.) or Swdfj.i /j.v t>v (W.) we direction as the statement 
ought probably to read Swa^ei 8 6v. Metapli. ii. (a) 1, 993, b, 9: 

2 18. wffirep yap teal TO. TU>V 

3 19-20. We cannot here o/j./j.aTa irpbs rb tytyyos ex ef 
enter into particulars ; see, y/j.pai>, OVT&) Kal TTJS 
however, BEAXDIS, iii. 334 sq. tyvxris o vovs irpbs TO rfj 
USENER, ibid. p. 269 sq. places c. ^avepcvrara iravTCDv. 

8 Br. ( 19-27 W.) between cc. 3 For Aristotle s view see sup. 

3 and 4 Br. ( 13 and 14 W.) vol. i. p. 197, n. 4. 

4 The latter is a deviation s So we should understand the 
from Aristotle s doctrine (on words 26 : xaAevr^ 5e Kal els avrb 
which cf . supra, vol. i. p. 205, n. 2, rov6 y vvveffts Kal y TT KTTIS ,...&/ 



further, that the world and the structure of the heavens 
is eternal l and that we cannot, therefore, point to th< 
causes of its origin, the problem yet remains of assign 
ing the moving causes and the final aim of the con 
stitution of the world, and of explaining individual forms 
of existence, down to animals and plants. Astrononr 
as such is inadequate to meet the former of th< 
demands ; since motion is just as essential to th( 
heavens as life is to living creatures, we must seek 
deeper origin for it in the essence and ultimate cause 
of the heavens themselves. 2 Upon the question of 
design in the world it is not always clear, apart froi 
other considerations, 3 whether a thing exists for 
definite end or only in consequence of a chance coinci 
dence or natural necessity ; 4 and even assuming desi^ 
in the world, we are yet unable to prove its present 
equally in every case, but must admit that there is mucl 

T IVI Troirjreoj/ T\>V opov. BEANDIS, 
p. 336, explains : where we are 
to place a limit on inquiry, 
which the text does not seem to 
permit. For the rest see 9A 

1 2G fin. must be read : 
Tre(pvKi> oo~oi 5e rbi/ ovpavbv a iS- 
IQV iv ert 5e, &c. 

SPENGEL (see BRANDTS, p. 337) 
had already changed the un 
meaning iipepcav into $ />v. 

2 This at any rate seems to be 
the meaning of 27 sq. (et olv 
aa-rpoXoyia. c.) 

3 These are indicated 28. 
USENER, Anal. Theoplir. 48, here 
proposes : &\\cas 6 a^opicrfjibs ov 
paSios .... Kal S^ T< ej/ta [JLTJ 
8o/ce>, &c. In that case 

T &paa-0cu xtf m ay be sug 
gested instead of (paSios . . . . 
7ro0ei/ S &pa<r6ai xpy v - Otherwis 
one might, still reading a 
omit the /UCITTJJ/ which precedes as 
an explanatory gloss : virep 5e rot 
TTcw/0 eVe/ra rov Kal u.r)Vfv aAAccs, 6 
a(}) ov pa$ios, &c. A^o/Jt 
here is equivalent to opicr/ubs, as n 
the passage from THEOPHRASTCS 
in SIMPL. Pliys. 94, a. 

4 Theophr. gives examples 
29 sq. where, however, 30 
instead of TOVTWV x^P LV we must 
read with USENER (Rhein. Mus. 
xvi. 278) rov x^P lv - ^ n what 
follows, it seems that the words 
Kal ravr\ &c. are somewhat out 
of order. 



that seems to oppose its realisation and even that the 
amount of this is largely in excess of that which clearly 
exhibits design in other words, that evil is largely in 
excess over good. l 

It is impossible from so mutilated a fragment to 
obtain any very exact information as to the views of 
Theophrastus upon the ultimate grounds of reality. 
We only see from it that he was not blind to the diffi 
culties of the Aristotelian doctrine, and that he brought 
these into prominence especially in connection with the 
question of the relation between the movens and the 
motum and with the teleological view of nature. We must 
nevertheless admit that even in his Metaphysics he has 
kept closely to the main lines of the Master s doctrine, 
as is obvious from his own express statements on several 
important heads, 2 and from the general fact that we 

J 28-84. In 31 read : 
t Se (j.rj ToD0 [or rat}0 J eW/ot rov 
Kal is rb apio-rov, ArjTrreW, and 
immediately after: Kal airbus 

^ei/a (Br. and W. Aeyo/xev a) 
Kal KaO tKaarov. In what follows 

TWV &W will then correspond 
o Kad e/cao-Toi/. In 32 we ought 
perhaps to read : aKapialov " rb 

nov Kal rb eli/cn .... TroAu 
Se Tr\rj9os (without y or e?z/at) rb 

ov. In what follows the text 
may have originally been : OVK eV 
aopiaria 5e povov Kal olov v\r)s 
^et, Ka.Qa.TTfp ra rrjs Qixrews (in 
the world of men for the allu 
sion must be to this there is not 
only, as in nature, indetermi- 
nateness and materiality, but also 
evil). After this, however, there 
seems to be a gap ; and of the 
missing words a/aaBeo-rdrov alone 
has survived. Similarly in the 


following passage to the protasis 
yapiKarepaeev (Ph. d. Gr. i. 
852, 3, where, however USENEE S 
conjecture, ibid. 280, ra 8 a6p6a 
Kal fKaTepwOev ought to have 
been mentioned) an apodosis is 
needed : this (the rarity of good 
ness) is even truer of Man. Of 
the next passage we have only a 
fragment in the words TO /uw ow 
ovra. The remainder is pro 
bably complete or nearly com 
plete ; the discussion, however, 
then breaks suddenly off and we 
are left without means of con 
jecturing its further course. In 
33 USENEE S conjecture (iUd.) 
eirijj.L/j.c ia-Oai. rb Qelov airai/ra (for 
67ri/t. 76 fle Aeii/ air.) has much to 
support it. 

2 Besides the theological 
doctrines hereafter to be dis 
cussed we may note the distinc- 

B B 



nowhere hear of any deviations from it. Even wha 
little has come down to us of Theophrastus s theo 
logical views harmonises in every respect with the 
doctrines of Aristotle. It is indeed urged against him 
that he declares God at one time to be Spirit, at 
another Heaven and the Stars ; l but the same objection 
is urged against Aristotle, 2 whose view we must have 
wholly misunderstood if we do not find an easy ex 
planation of it in the fact that while he identifies God 

tion between form and matter 

(Metapli. 17, THEMIST. De An. 

9 1, a, m) with all that it involves, 

and the Aristotelian teleology, 

The latter Theophr. expresses in 

Aristotelian phraseology, Cans, 

PL i. 1, 1 (cf. ii. 1, 1) : V 7P 

(pv o-is ouSei/ Trotel ^O.TT\V ^Kiffra 8e 

eV TO?S TTpwTois Kal KvpLWTaTois. 

Ibid. i. 16, 11 (where moreover 

we must read 77 5" in place of 

^8 ): aei Trpbs ri freXriffrov dppa 

[77 <f>vffis~\. Cf. iv. 4, 2; 1, 2. Art, 

again, is partly an imitation 

(Cans ii. 18, 2), partly a support 

and completion (itod. ii. 16, 5, i. 

16 10 sq. v. 1,1) of the designs 

of nature ; it differs, however 

(Cans. i. 16, 10, cf. sup. vol. i. p. 

418, n. 3), from nature in that the 

latter operates from within out- 

wards, and therefore spontane- 

ously (e/c T&V ouTOyuarcoj/), while it 

works from without by force, and 

theref ore only piecemeal (Caiis.i. 

12 4) ; hence it is that art produces 

much that is unnatural (ibid. i. 

16, ll, r v. 1, 1 sq.). Even this isnot 

without a purpose, but it serves 

not the original design of nature 

but certain ends of man (cf. v. 

1, 1); these two, however, do 

not coincide and may even con- 

tradict one another (Cans. i. 1( 
1 ; 21, 1 sq. iv. 4, 1 Theophr 
here distinguishes in reference 
to fruits and their ripeness T> 
TcAeioTTjra ri\v re irpbs was ital 
rty -rrpbs yeveffiv. r? /*- yap irpbs 
rpotyriv rj 8e irpbs TOV 
yevvqv). Nevertheless even the 
unnatural can by habit change 
its nature (Cans. ii. 5, 5, iii. 8, 4, 
iv. 11, 5, 7); and on the other 
hand many vegetables and 
animals are, Theophr. believes, 
entrusted by nature herself to 
the care of man, whereby only 
they can reach perfection, and 
just herein consists the difference 
between wild and tame (Cans. i. 
16, 23) which, as we shall find 
hereafter, he regards as not 
merely an artificial but a natural 

1 The Epicurean in Cic. N. D. 
i. 13, 35: nee vero TlieopUrasti 
inconstantia ferenda est ; mode 
enim menti ditince tribute prince 
pattern, modo ccelo, turn autem 
signia yideribusqne ccelettibut. 
CLEMENS, Protrept. c. 5, 44, B: 
&eo<f>p ..... TTT) tfv ovpavbv ity 
8c in/eC/ia rbv 6ebv vnovoe^. 

2 Cic. ibid. 33, cf . KRISCH, 
Forsch. 276 sqq. 


in the highest sense with infinite spirit alone, he yet 
conceives of the motive forces in the stellar spheres, 
and especially in the highest of them, as eternal and 
divine beings. Theophrastus holds this view also. To 
him also God in an absolute sense is pure reason, 1 the 
single cause which co-ordinates all reality, and which, 
itself unmoved, produces motion in everything else, since 
everything else desires it. 2 In proof of this assumption 
Theophrastus had appealed, it appears, like Aristotle, 3 
to the universality of religious beliefs. 4 He also de 
scribed its universal operation as Providence, 5 without, 
however, distinguishing this divine causality from the 
ordinary course of nature, 6 and he demanded of man that 

1 Mvtapll. 16: efrrt Se [rb 
KLVOVV erepov Kal L o /at/el] &v TLS 
6?r avrbv ayp rbv vovv Kal rbj/ Qtov. 

2 Ibid. 4 sq. (see supra), 
where inter alia : 9eia yap f) 
irdvTtov apxr) Si fjs airavra Kal tari 
Kal Sm^evei .... eVei 5 a.Kivr]ros 
/ca# avr^v, fyavepbv &s OVK av e tr) 
T(f Kiveladai TO?S rrjs Qixrews aiTia, 
aAAci Xoiirbv &\\r) rivl 8vvdju.ei 
KpeiTTOi/i Kal irpoTtpa. TOiavrr] 5 
r) rov opeitTov <t>vcris, a(f> ys r] 
KvK\iK7] [so. Kivriffis, which 
UsEftEB ibid. p. 263 wishes to 
supply] r) crvvex^s Kal anavaros. 

3 On which cf . sup. vol. i. p. 390. 

4 We may at least infer this 
from the fact that in POEPH. De 
Abst. ii. 7 sq. (see also BEEN AYS, 
fAeopfir. iib. Fromm. 56 sq.) he 
treats the neglect of all worship 
as an exceptional outrage, on 
account of which the Thracian 
Thoans were destroyed by the 
gods ; probably the same people 
of whom SIMPL. in Epict. Encliir. 
38. iv. 357 Schweigh. says : 

iravres yap avdpwiroi .... VO/J.L- 

ovs iVrope? QeofypacrTos a6eovs 

5 MINUC. FEL. Octav. 19, 11 : 
Theophrastus tt Zenon, $c ..... 
ad unitatem providential omnes 
rcvolvuntur. Cf. PEOCL. in Tim. 
138, e: 3) yap povos $ fj.aAi<TTa 
-rrj airb TOV irpoi oovvTOs 
TO, (pr)(rlv 6 Qe6(pp. 

ti As is seen from ALEX. APHE., 
who says at the end of his 
treatise De Anima : tyavepcaTara 
5e e6(ppa<jTos Sf iKvvai ravrbv "bv 
rb Kad tlp.apfj.vr}v T< Kara 
ev r KaAAio-0eVei for flp. 
indicates the course of the world 
as divinely appointed, which 
therefore Theophr. according to 
his manner identified with the 
order of nature, as he identified 
the lot which God has appointed 
to each individual with a man s 
natural state. Cf.8TOB.jEbJ. i.206 : 
5e TTWS els rb 

BB 2 



he should imitate its ceaseless intellectual activity. 1 At 
the same time he follows Aristotle 2 in also attributing 
a soul to the heavens, 3 whose higher nature reveals 
itself in its orderly motion ; 4 and since he is likewise 
in agreement with the Aristotelian doctrine of the 
eether as the material of the heavenly structure 5 and of 
the eternity of the world, 6 he could attribute blessedness 
or divinity not only to the highest Heaven, of which it 
is expressly asserted, 7 but also with equal right to the 


apccv alricav iroiKiXwv, Trpoaipe- 
[(/jurreco? HEEREN and others], 
al avdyKris. As regards 
the two last, rvxn means accident, 
avdyKr] constraint (either of other 
men or of natural necessity) as 
distinguished from (pvais or 
nature acting with a purpose. 
From the allusions to Theophr. s 
views upon Providence in 
Olympiodorus in Plucd. ed. 
Finckh, p. 169, 7 nothing can be 

1 JULIAN, Orat. vi. 185, a 
Spanh. : ctAAa Kal Uvdayopas oi re 
air e/ceu/ou M e/ XP fO(ppdarov rb 
KaTa 8vvaiJ.iv 6jj.oiS>ffQai Oe< (j)a(n. 
Plato especially expresses himself 
to this effect; how far it was 
the view also of Theophr. is seen 
from the note: /cat yap /ecu 6 
Apt(TTOTeArjr o yap fj/ieTs Trore, 
TOVTO 6 0e2>s deC (see supra). 
According to Diog. v. 49 Theophr. 
wrote a treatise against the 
Academics on the blessedness 
of God. 

2 See supra, vol. i. p. 495, n. 4. 

3 Procl. in Tim. 177, a : 
Theophrastus deems it unneces 
sary to base the existence of the 
sonl, as the cause of motion, 

upon higher principles, as Plato 
had done, l/xif/u^o*/ yap /cat avrbs 
eli/at StScocrt TOV ovpavbv Kal Sta 
TOVTO Qeiov el yap 6e~i6s e tr 
Kal Ti]v apio~Tr)v e%et Si 
f^vxos eo-rtv ovSev yap TL/JLIOV 
avev tyvxys, us ev TW Trepl Ovpavov 
yeypa bev. (8ee also on the lasl 
head p. 281, b. Plat, Thcol. i. 12 
p. 35 Hamb.) 

4 Upon this see Mctapli. 34 
Cic. Tusc.i. 19, 45 : Iwc enimpul- 
chritudo etiam in terris patriam 
illam et ai-itam (ut ait Tlico- 
2)hrastus)pMlosopliiam cog nitionis 
cupiditate incensam excitavit 
refers to the beauty of the 
heavens. By ira.Tpi.os Kal TraAcuci 
(f)i\o(ro(pia is meant, as the con 
text also shows, knowledge of*| 
the heavens, or astronomy. 

5 According to TAUEUS 
(Scholiast to Timceus, Belilier s 
Sclwlia p. 437 and PHILOP. 
JEtern, rn. xiii. 15), Theophr. 
rejected Aristotle s doctrine of; 
the aether on the ground oEj 
Plato s assertion (Tim. 31 B) 
that all that is solid and visibl 
must consist of fire and earth. 

6 On this see infra, p. 380. 

7 See n. 2 and the quotatic 
from Aristotle sup. vol. i. p. 474. 


other heavenly spheres. 1 Between him and Aristotle 
there is in this regard no difference of doctrine. 

Theophrastus, however, devoted much more attention 
to scientific than to metaphysical inquiries, and had 
indeed much more talent for them. That here also he 
continued to build upon the foundations laid by Ari 
stotle is beyond question; but we find him exerting 
himself not only to supplement the results of his 
teacher by further observation, but also to correct them 
by re-examination of his scientific conceptions. With 
this view he instituted an inquiry in a work of his own 2 
into the conception of Motion which lay at the root of 
the Aristotelian doctrine of Nature ; 3 and he found 
it necessary to deviate in some respects from the teach 
ing of Aristotle on this head. He asserted, for instance, 
that Motion, which he agreed with Aristotle in defining 
as the realisation of potentiality, 4 may be predicated in 

1 As Theophr. according- to teenth of the Physics in SIMPL. 
the passage quoted, sup. vol. i. p. Pliys. 23, a, and Cat eg, 100, /3 
461, 3 accepted Aristotle s theory (Schol. 331, a, 10, 92, b, 23) have 
of spheres, he was obliged to pre- arisen out of mere clerical 
suppose also with Aristotle an errors (rif 10! and T$ t5 out of 
eternal mover for each sphere THI A). From ei/Se/car^ in the 
an hypothesis which was forced former passage came next Se/cary 
upon him also by the principles in the Aldine text. 

of the Peripatetic philosophy 3 Theophrastus also says that 

with respect to mover and physics have to do only with the 

moved. motum (see sup vol. i. p. 417 sq.) ; 

2 The three books ir. Kivfia-ews, see supra, vol. ii. p. 357, n. 1. 
On these and on the eight books 4 evepyeia rov SiW^et KLV-^TOV 
of the Physics (if there were 77 KIV^T^V Kara -yt i/os tKaffrov rwv 
really so many) see PHILIPPSON, Kar-nyopicav TJ rov Swa/nei OVTOS p 
"TAT? ai dp. p. 84, USENER, Anal, TOLOVTOV eVreAe^em ez/epyeia ris 
Theophr. 5, 8, and B BANDIS, ill. areA^s rov dwd/uei OVTOS y TOIOVTOV 
281. The last rightly remarks, as Ka.0 tKaoTov ytvos T&V KaTfiyopiuv 
Kosu, Arist. libr. ord. 87 had (THEOPHR. Fr. 19 sq. 23 b, SIMPL. 
already dona, that the eleventh Phys, 201, b, 94, a, m. Catey. 
book TT. K iv-f) creoos and the four- ibid.} areA^s yap f) Kivrjcris (TH. 



all the categories ; as change is not confined, as Aristotle 
tried to prove, 1 to substance, size, quality, locality, but is 
also applicable to relation, position, &c. 2 Again, Aristotle 
had asserted that all change takes place gradually, anc 
therefore that everything which changes must be divi 
sible ; 3 Theophrastus maintained, on the contrary, the 
possibility which Aristotle himself elsewhere 4 admit 

apud THEMIST. De An. p. 199, 20 
Sp.). It is plain from the quota 
tion, sup. vol. i. p. 383, n. 1, that 
this completely agrees with Ari 
stotle. Nor is it easy to see in 
SIMPL. Categ. 77, e. Phys. 202, a, 
the deviation from Aristotle 
which HITTER (iii. 413 sq.) finds. 
The first passage (Fr. 24) runs : 
TovTcp /j.ev yap (Theophrastus) 
So/ceT ltd) xupifcffOai TV KLvna-iv 
TTJS evepyeias, eivai Se rr]V fj.ev 
Kivrfffiv /cat evepyeiav ws &v eV OVTTJ 
jrepi^o/j.vrjv, ovKeri lUeWot Kal rr)v 
evepyeiav Kivriffiv TT]V yap e/cacrTOu 
oba iav Kal rb olKeiov elSos evepyeiav 
elvai eitaffTOv fj.rj ovcrav ravrriv 
Kivt](Tiv. This means, however : 
every motion is an energy, but 
every energy is not a motion ; 
energy is the wider, motion ihe 
narrower conception. It is 
almost the opposite, therefore, 
to RITTEE S explanation : that he 
refuses to comprehend either the 
conception of energy under that 
of motion or the conception of 
motion under the conception 
of energy. Phys. 202, a, 
SIMPL. says: 6 eo^pao-Tos ^Te?r 
Se?i/ <p7j<n trepl T&V /aj/^erecoj/ el at 
JJLSV Kivfjffeis elfflv, al Se wcrirep 
evepyeiai rives, which he cites, 
however, only as proof that 
Theophr. uses ivT]<ns not merely 
of motion in space, but of any 

change. In this more general 
sense he may have understooc 
particularly the motion of th< 
soul (see infra). Aristotle als 
however, frequently uses K.[vi)aii 
synonymously with /j-era 
and even he calls motion ener 
as well as entelechy (see sup. vol. 
i. p. 383, n. 1) : while, on the othe 
hand, Theophr. as well as Ai 
stotle says that it is only an in 
complete energy. According t( 
Priscian (in his paraphrase of the 
Physics bk. v. p. 287, Theophr. 
Opp. ed. Wimm. iii. 269) he says 
expressly : ravra 5e [evepyeia 
and Kiv-riffis] Sta^e pet XP 
Se avayKatov eviore roTs avro is 

1 See supra, vol. i. p. 423, n. 1. 

2 THEOPHR. Fr. 19,20, 23 (cf. 
sup.vol. ii. p. 373, n. 4). The remarl 
in Fr. 20 on the motion of relatk 
is obscure, and in the words: rj 
yap eVe p7eta Klvrjffis re Kal Kaff avrb 
the text is probably corrupt. 
Perhaps we ought to read : fj 
evepyeia KLvrjcris TOV KaO avr6. 
But even so the passage is not 
quite clear. 

3 Phys. vi. 4 inlt. (see supra, 
vol. i. p. 439. n. 3), cf . c. 10. 

4 Phys. i. 3, 186, a, 13, and in 
the discussions upon light see 
supra, vol. i. p. 518, n. 3. 


1 of a simultaneous change in all parts of a mass. 1 Ari 
stotle finally, in connection with the same subject, had 
assumed that, although there is a moment at which a 

I change is completed, there is none at which it begins ; 2 
Theophrastus rightly held this to be inconceivable. 3 
He further took serious exception to Aristotle s doctrine 
of space. 4 If space is the limit set by the surrounding to 

I the surrounded body, the latter must be a plain surface; 

J space would move, along with the surrounding body, 
which is inconceivable ; nor would every body be in 
space, since the outermost circle would not be ; more 
over, all that is in space would cease to be so, without, 
however, itself suffering any change, if the surrounding 

(body coalesced with it in one whole or were wholly 
removed. 5 Theophrastus was himself inclined to define 
space as the order and position of bodies relatively to 

1 THBMIST. Phys. vi. 4, p. 381, 46 Sp.), Plato s views upon time. 

I 23 sqq. c. 5, 389, 8 sqq. Cf. 5 Fr. 21, b, SiMPL. Phys. 141, 

| SIMPL. Phys. 233, a, m (Fr. a, m. ; Theophrastus objects in 

I 54 sqq.). On the other hand the the Physics to Aristotle s defini- 

| citation from Theophrastus in tion of space, 6n rb a-v^a co-rat 

SiMPL. Plti/st. 23, a, is not eV ^TTKpaveia, on KIVOV^GVOS ecrrat 6 

directed against Aristotle, but is TOTTOS [but according to SIMPL. 

in agreement with him against Phys. 131, b, 136, a. 141, b, 

Melinus. 143, a, Theophrastus and Eu- 

- See supra, vol. i. p. 439, n. 4. demus treated it as an axiom 

3 SIMPL. Phys. 230, a, m. that space is immobile, as Ari- 
THEMIST. Phys. p. 386, 16 Sp. stotle also had done, see sup. vol. 
(ScJtol. 410, b,44, 411, a, 6). Cf. i. p. 432 sq. Phys.iv. 4, 212, a, 18 
Eudemus in SiMPL. 231, b (Fr. sqq.], on ov irav acc/ma ev r6ira} (ouSe 
67 Sp.). yap r} airXavris), on, eav a\)va.*xJdG)aiv 

4 In respect to time, on the at atycupai, Kal o\os 6 ovpavbs OVK 
other hand, he wholly agreed fcrrai eV TOTT^ [cf . AEIST. Phys. iv. 
with Aristotle ; SiMPL. Phys. 187, 4, 211, a, 29], 6Vt ra eV r6ircf ovra, 

a, m. cf. Categ. Sohol. in Ar. 79, ^Sev avra /meraKivnOevTa, sav aty- 

b, 25 ; controverting apparently, aipeOy TO. -jrepiexovra avrh, OVKI 
like Eudemus (according to ecrrcu eV 

SIMPL. Phys. 165, a, and b, Fr. 


one another. 1 Of less importance are some other state 
ments quoted from the portions of his Physics which 
dealt with more general questions. 2 In his treatise 
upon the elements 3 to which the extant passage upon 
fire belongs, while holding fast to Aristotelian prin 
ciples, 4 he nevertheless finds certain difficulties. While 
all other elements are themselves definite materials, 
fire (whether we take it to include light or not) 
only exists in materials which burn and give light; 
how then can it be treated as an elementary substance ? 
This can only be the case if we assume that in a higher 
region 5 heat is pure and unmixed, whereas upon earth 

1 SIMPL. ibid-. 149, b, m. (Fr. 
22) : Theophrastus says, though 
only as a suggestion (ws eV airopia 
irpodycav rbi/ \6yov~) : yUTjTrore ou/c 

/co# avT~ov ovaia TLS 6 T^TTOS, 

rrj Ta|et Kal 0e <rei 
Tcav \4ycrat Kara ras (pvffeis 
ovvd/, ofj.o uas 8 eirl u><av 
(pvrwv Kal oAct s ruiv avo/ 
e/fre ^/JL^/V^CCV etre a^v-^iav, e/j./aop(poi> 
Sfr-^v (pixTLv ZXOVTCW Kal yap rov- 
rwv rd^ts TLS Kal Qearis r&v /jLtpaiv 
ftrri irpbs rV O ATJI/ ovcriav Sib Kal 
fKaffTov eV rrj avrov x^P? \eyerai 
rqj e^eti/ TT?I/ o\Keiav Tct|tz/, eVei KOI 
TUV TOV cr(t>fj.aT05 /AfpSiv e/cocTTOj/ 
TwroO t](reifi av Kal aTraiT-fjcreie r^)v 
eavrov xd>pav Kal Qzffiv! 

- At the beginning of his 
treatise he had illustrated the 
beginning of Aristotle s with the 
remark that all natural existences 
have their principles as all natural 
bodies are composite CSiMPL. 
Phys. 2, b, 5, b, m. Schol. in Ar. 
324, a, 22, 325, b, 15. PHILOP. 
Phys. A, 2, m.) ; in the third 
book, which was also entitled 
IT. ovpavov, he distinguishes three 

kinds of becoming: by means of| 
something similar, something 
opposite, and something which is 
neither similar nor opposite toi 
that which comes to be but only 
in general a previous actuality 
(Fr. 16, b, SIMPL. ibid. 287, a). 

3 According to Alex, in SIMPL. 
Zte Caelo, init., Schol. 468, a, 11, 
Theophrastus had discussed these 
in the treatise TT. ovpavov, which 
however (ibid. 435, b, 33, and 
previous note) is the same as] 
Physics, Bk. iii. SIMPL. .Zte Ceelo, 
517, a, 31, however, cites also a 
special work by him, trepl rrjs rwv 
crroixeiW 76^eo-ews (USKNEE, 
Anal. 21, thinks perhaps the^ 
same as Diog., v. 39, calls ir. 

4 The composition of the ele 
ments of heat, cold, &c. (see sup. 
vol. i. p. 478 sqq. ; to this account, 
e.g. DC lync, 26 : rb yap irvp 6ep/ 
Kal np6v refers). Similarly the 
theory of the natural weight and 
levity of bodies ; cf. De Vent. 
22, be Sensit, 88 sq. 

5 eV avTij rrj TrpccTy (Ttpaipa, bj 


it is only found in union with something else and in 
a process of becoming ; but in this case we must again 
ask whether terrestrial fire springs from the heavenly 
element or owes its origin to certain states and move 
ments in burning material. 1 Again, how are we to 
explain the sun ? If it consists of a kind of fire, this 
must be very different from other fire ; if it does not 
consist of fire, we should then have to explain how it 
can kindle fire. In any case we should have to admit 
that not only fire but also heat are properties. But how is 
it possible to admit this with regard to heat, which is a 
far more universal and elementary principle than fire ? 
This suggests further questions. Are heat, cold, &c. really 
first principles and not merely attributes ? 2 Are the so- 
called simple bodies not rather composite things ? since 
even moisture cannot be without fire, for if it were it 
would freeze ; nor can the earth be wholly without 
moisture, for if it were it would fall to pieces. 3 We 
are not, however, justified in ascribing to Theophrastus 
on account of these criticisms an actual departure from 
the Aristotelian doctrine. 4 He is only following his 
general custom of pointing out the difficulties which his 
Master s view involves, without necessarily giving it up. 
It is the less necessary to follow Theophrastus 

which, however, only the first \a(jL$avov<n rb Qepjubv Kal 

elemental sphere can be meant. &a-n-p iraQy rivwv eTi-ai, OVK 

1 J)e Iffne, 3-5. Cf. also Kal 5vvd/j.eis a^a 8e /ecu f) TWV 
OLYJMPTODOEUS in Mcteorol. i. ccTrAcoi/ AeyOyUeVojj/ (pvaris /AIKT^ re 
137, id. KOI evvTrdpxova a dAA^Aois &c. 

2 Ibid. 5-7, where 6 with 4 Aristotle also says that the 
the words : eV uTro/cet/ieVoj rivl Kal elements do not present them- 
rb Trvp Kal 6 ^i\ios T& dp/u.6v we selves separately in actuality ; 
must supply ex et - see sirpra, vol. i. p. 482, n. 4. 

3 Ibid. 8 : </>cuVercu yap ovrco 



further in his discussion of fire, inasmuch as, in spite 
of many true observations, he not unfrequently proceeds 
upon false assumptions and fails to bring to the elucida 
tion of the facts any actual knowledge of the processes 
of combustion. 1 Nor need we enter into his account of 
wind 2 (the cause of which he traces to the motion of the 
sun and warm vapours 3 ), of the origin of rain, 4 of the 
signs of the weather, 5 of stones, of smells, 7 tastes, 8 

1 Thus, for the explanation 
of several actual or supposed 
phenomena, we have such as 
sumptions as that the smaller 
fire (as also AEIST. supposes, 
Gen. et Corr. i. 7, 323, b, 8) is 
consumed by the greater, or that 
it is suppressed and suffocated 
by the density of the air (Fr. 3, 
10 sq. 58 ; Fr. 10, 1 sq ) ; that a 
cold environment increases the 
interior heat by repulsion (O.VTI- 
TrepiVrao is) (ibid. 13, 15, 18, 74, 

7T. iSpOJT. 23, TT. \LTTO\I/VX. Ft. 10, 

6; Cans. PI. i. 12, 3, vi. 18, 11, 
andj}assi)/i ; cf. the Index under 

PLUT. Qu. Nat. 13, p. 915) and 
the like. Hence also the state 
ment (in SIMPL. De Ccclo, 268, 
a, 27 ; K. ScJiol. 513, a, 28) that 
there have been cases of sparks 
darting from men s eyes. 

2 IT. avf(j.(av (Fr. 5). In 5 
of this work mention is also 
made of that ir. vS&rwv (cf.DiOG. 
v. 45; USENER, Anal. Tlieoplir.l}. 

3 Ibid. 19 sq. ALEX, in 
Meteor ol. 100, b ; cf. sup. vol. i. 
p.51 4 sq.Theophrastus had spoken 
more i uliy on this subject in an 
earlier treatise Zte Vent. 1. 

4 On this see OLYMPIO- 
DORUS on Meteorol. i. 222 id. 

rj. ffrffieioof vSdrow Kal TTvev/j.d- 

rcav Kal xeijUctSi/wj Kal ei5iwi/(Fr. (5). 
fi n. \i6u>v (Fr. 2), according 
to 59 written during the Ar- 
chonship of Praxihulus (01. 116, 
2, 315 B.C.) At the beginning 
of this essay the treatise on 
Metals, on which cf. USENER, p. 
6, and supra, vol. i. p. 84, n. 1, is 
mentioned. THEOPHR. (iMd.) 
makes stones consist of earth, 
metals of water, herein (see sup. 
vol. i.p. 514) connecting his doc 
trine with that of Aristotle, 
whom he follows in general in 
the treatment of this subject 
(see SCHNEIDER S references in 
his Commentary iv. 535 sqq. and 
passim], except that he goes 
much more deeply into particu 
lars than Aristotle did in the cor 
responding section of the Meteor 
ology (iii. 6). 

7 On smells and tastes cf. 
Cans. PI. vi. 1-5 (on those of 
plants, the rest of the book); on 
smells alone: irepl otrpa/v (Fr. 4). 
Theophrastus here treats of the 
kinds of smells which do not 
permit of such sharp separation 
as the kinds of tastes, and next 
with great fullness of particular 
fragrant or offensive substances, 
their mixture, &c. Cf. also PLUT. 
Qu. Conv. i. 6, 1, 4. 

8 On these also he had written 

light, 1 colours, 2 sounds. 3 His view of the structure of 

a special treatise, according to 
DlOG. v. 46, in five books (cf. 
USENER, p. 8, and sup. vol. i. p. 
84,11.1) ; Cam. PL vi. 1, 2, 4, 1, he 
enumerates seven chief tastes 
with an obvious reminiscence of 
ARIST. De Sensu, 4, 442, a, 19 (see 
sup. vol. i. p. 85). Ibid. c. 1, 1 he 
gives a definition of xvn&s, which 
agrees with that of Aristotle (see 
sup. vol. i. p. 518). OLYMPIOD. in 
Muteorol. i. 286 id. mentions an 
assumption with reference to the 
briny taste of sea water (that it 
comes from the nature of the 
bottom of the sea). 

1 Theophrastus had explained 
his theory on this subject in the 
fifth book of the Physics , of 
which fragments have been pre 
served to us in PRISCIAN S Para 
phrase (see PHILTPPSON, "TATJ 
avOpuTrivr), pp. 241 sqq.; WlMMER, 
Tlieoplir. Opp. iii. 232 sqq.). On 
light and transparency cf. 16 
sqq. The S/ce^aj/es is, according 
to the view here presented, which 
agrees with Aristotle s (see sup. 
vol. i. p. 518, n. 3), not a body but 
a property or state of certain 
bodies, and when light is called 
the ei/e pyeta rov Siacpavovs ( 18), 
frtpyem must be understood in 
the wider sense of a irddrj/j-a or 
certain change in the transparent. 
The idea that light is a material 
emanation is rejected. 

2 All that can be obtained 
on this subject from the works 
of Theophrastus (to which, how 
ever, the pseudo Aristotelian 
treatise on Colours does not be 
long ; cf. supra, vol ii. p. 355, n. 2) 
is almost entirely in agreement 
with Aristotle, and it is brought 
together by PRANTL, Arist. ub. d. 

Farben, 181 sqq. Fr. 89, 3, 6 
also belongs to this group. 

3 Theophr. had discussed 
these in the treatise upon 
Music. In the fragment of this 
treatise which Porphyry has pre 
served (Fr. 89) in Ptol. Harm, 
(WALLISH, Opp. iii. 241 sqq.) 
he controverts the assumption 
that the difference between 
higher and lower notes is merely 
a numerical one. We cannot 
assert that the higher note either 
consists of more parts or moves 
more swiftly (TrAetous apiQ^ovs 
Kivtirai 3, which according to 
6 Jin. seems to refer to the 
greater swiftness of motion by 
means of which in the same 
time it traverses a greater 
number of equal spaces) than 
the lower (the former was Hera- 
elides , the latter Plato s and 
Aristotle s assumption ; see Plt.d. 
Or. i. 887, 1, 655 n. and stip. vol. i. 
p. 5 19). For in the first place if the 
essence of sound is number, then 
wherever we have number we 
must also have sound ; on the 
other hand, if number is not the 
essence of sound, sounds are not 
distinguished by number only ; 
in the second place observation 
shows that for a low note an 
equally strong movement is re 
quired as for a high one ; and 
again the two could not accord 
with one another if they moved 
with unequal velocity or con 
sisted of an unequal number of 
movements. If a higher note is 
audible at a greater distance, 
this is only because it is trans 
mitted in a merely forward 
direction, whereas the deep note 
is transmitted in all directions, 



the universe agrees in every respect with Aristotle s. 1 
He shares also his doctrine that the world is without 
beginning or end, defending it, ci propos of Aristotle s 
physical theory, with great fullness and success against 
the founder of the Stoic school. 2 And since among 

He holds that intervals do not ex 
plain the difference in notes, 
they merely make the latter per 
ceptible by omission of the inter 
mediate notes. In their case 
much more than in that of colours 
a qualitative difference must be 
admitted. Wherein this differ 
ence, however, consists, Theophr. 
does not seem more precisely to 
have defined. 

1 We see this from the state 
ment of Simplicius on the retro 
gressive spheres quoted sup. vol.i. 
p. 502, n. 1, and that of Pseudo- 
Alex, in Metapli. 678, 13 Bon. (^807, 
b, 9 Br.) which agrees with it. The 
remark Fr. 171 (TT. TUV l-)(Qvu>v} 6 
that the air is nearer the fire 
than is the water refers to Ari 
stotle s assumption that the 
elements lie round the earth in 
the form of a sphere. We need not 
believe that Theophr. held the 
Milky Way, as MACEOB. Somn. 
Scip. i. 15 supposes, to be the 
band that unites the two hemi 
spheres of which the celestial 
sphere is composed ; he may 
have compared it with such a 
band, but the idea that the celes 
tial sphere is really composed of 
two parts is inconsistent with 
Aristotle s doctrine that the 
world by reason of the nature of 
its materials can only have the 
form of a perfect sphere (see sup. 
vol. i. p. 486 sq.). It has already 
been remarked sup. vol. ii. p. 372, 
that Theophrastus follows Ari 

stotle in his general view of the 

- The extract from his 
treatise on this subject given in| 
the pseudo Philo has already been 
considered, sup. vol. ii. p. 354, n. 3. 
Theophr. here (c. 23 sqq. Bern.) 
controverts four arguments of 
his opponent and maintains 
against them (as is shown in 
ZELLER S Hermes, xi. 424 sq.) c. 
25, p. 270, 6 sqq. that in the first 
place their assertion that if the 
world were without beginning 
all unevenness in the earth s 
surface must long ago have been 
levelled, overlooks the fact 
that the tire in the earth 
which originally heaved up the 
moiintains (cf. on this Theophr. 
F. 2, 3) also keeps them up ; and 
in the second place if from the re 
treat of the sea which has taken 
place at particular places, a final 
exhaustion of it and an absorp 
tion of all elements in fire are, 
inferred, this overlooks the 
fact that that decrease (as Ari 
stotle had previously taught, see 
sup. vol. ii. p. 30, n. 2) is amerely 
local one and is counterbalanced 
by an increase at other places ; 
just as little in the third place 
does it follow from the transi- 
torine^s of all particular parts of 
the world, that the world as a 
whole is transitory, inasmuch as 
the destruction of one thing is 
always the birth of another (cf . on 
this sup. vol. i. p. 485). If finally 


other presuppositions of the Peripatetic system the 
eternity of the human race was involved in the eternity 

I of the world, 1 while on the other hand the relatively 
recent origin of civilisation was recognised by Theo- 
phrastus and illustrated by researches into the origin of 
the arts upon which it depends 2 and of religious rites, 3 
he assumed with his Master that there occurred from 

| time to time overwhelming natural disasters which, 
covering vast territories, either totally annihilated the 
inhabitants or reduced them again to the primeval state 
of barbarism. 4 The mistake, in fact, which Aristotle 
made in assuming with the old astronomy that in the 
eternity of the universe is involved also that of the earth 
and the human race, 5 reveals itself again in Theophrastus. 
Striking proof of Theophrastus s ability in the field 
of natural history is afforded by his two works upon 

man and therefore also the world ^a.Kpous tviavrwv irep^Sois : and 

is said to have had a beginning, after further explaining how 

because the arts without which both kinds of devastation occur, 

man cannot live have had one, and how the inhabitants of the 

Theophr. opposes to this view mountains are swept away by 

the theory developed in the the one, those of the valleys and 

text. plains by the other, he proceeds : 

J Cf. SUp. vol. ii. p. 32, n. 1. Kara 877 TOVS Aex^eVras rp6irovs 

2 DiOG. v. 47 mentions two Si^a /jivpicav a\\wv fipaxvrepwi 
books by him TT. eupTj/xdrcoj . (fideipo/Jievov TOV irXziffrov /ntpovs 

3 See more on this subject, dvQpuirvv Tri\nre7v e| dvdyKrjs Kal 
infra. ras rex vas . . . eTretSai/ 8e at fj.ev 

4 It is not permissible, says Koival v6aoi x a ^ aff(1} <nv, ap^Tai 
the pseudo-Philo, c. 27, p. 274, 8e avrifiav Kal fiXaa-rdveiv rb yevos 
3 sqq. Bern., to judge the anti- e /c T&V p)] irpoKaraX^tpQevruv TOLS 
quity of man from that of the tirifipicraai Setyots, apx^o-Qai Kal TO.S 
arts. For (pOopal TUV Kara yrjv re ^j/as ird\iv awiaraaOai, ov rb 
OVK adpocav airavTiav aAAa TUV irpwTOV yevofAcvas, aAAa TTJ /xetaJcrei 
irXs iO Twv Sval rats ,u.eyiffrais ruv e^oVrcof vTroffTravurdeiffas. 
airiaisdi aTiOfi TaijTrvpbsKalvSaTos 5 Cf. on this Pfiil.-hlstor. 
d\eKTois (popals. KaraffKriTTTeif 8 Abhandl. der Jjerl. Akadcmtze, 
c/carepav eV /ie pet (pafflv eV irdvv 1878, pp. 105 sq. 


plants. 1 Observations are there collected with the most 
unwearied diligence from all regions of the world acces 
sible at that time. All the information attainable by 
the insufficient means and methods at the disposal 
of the investigator of the period, not only upon the 
form, and parts, but also upon the development, the 
cultivation, the use, and the geographical distribution 
of a large number of plants, 2 is there set down. His 
statements are moreover in general so reliable, and 
where they rest on the testimony of others so cautions, 
that they give us the most favourable impression of his 
power of observation and critical skill. Neither ancient 
nor mediasval times have any botanical work of equal 
importance to compare with the writings of Theo- 
phrastus. The scientific explanation of the facts, 
however, was necessarily in the highest degree unsatis 
factory, since neither botany nor science in general 
was as yet adequate to this task. Aristotle was 
able in his geological works to compensate in some 
degree for the like defect both by the general grandeur 
of his fundamental thoughts and in particular by a 
multitude of brilliant conjectures and startling observ 
tions ; but Theophrastus cannot be compared with hi 
Master in either of these respects. 

1 According to KIRCHNER, kno wn before his time, we cann 

Die Botan. Sclirift. d. Th. (Jahrb. assume that he intended to 

f. Pliilol. Supplement!), vii.) p. enumerate all that were known 

497, he names 550 plants, and of to him. 

these there are about 170 with re- 2 Cf. what BBANDIS, iii. 298 
gard to which we do not know sqq., KIRCHXER, 499 sqq., have 
whether they had been previously collected from the writings of 
known. As, however, he omits Theophrastus on the sources and 
several with regard to which it compass of his botanical know- 
can be proved that they were ledge. 





The fundamental ideas of his botanical theory are 
taken from Aristotle. 1 Plants are living creatures. 2 
Theophrastus does not make express mention of a soul 
in them ; he regards their natural heat and moisture 
as the seat of their life, 3 finding in these also the chief 
ground of the individual peculiarities by which they 
are differentiated from one another. 4 But in order 
that they may germinate and grow, a suitable external 
environment is indispensable. 5 Their progress and 
perfection, their improvement or deterioration depend, 
therefore, in this respect, primarily upon the heat and 

1 KlBCHNEB, ibid. 5J4 sqq. 
gives us a comparison of Theo- 
phrastus s botanical theory with 
Aristotle s so far as we know it. 

2 Z&vra, Cans i. 4, 5, v. 5, 2 : 
18, 2 ; fjttjSw. ibid. v. 4, 5 ; they 

.have not e07j [^ 0rj] and -n-pd^is, 
like the animals, but thev have 
plovs, Hist. i. 1, 1. 

3 Hist. i. 2, 4 : airav yap (pvr^v 
%X ei Tiva vyporrjra Kal 
(TV/J.<PVTOV &ffirtp Kal C<ov, 
viroXenrovTwv yiverai yripas 
(f)di<ns, reAe/ws Se 

Qavaros Kal avavffis. Cf. 11. 3 ; 
Cans. i. 1, 3 : for germination 
there is required e/mftios vypor-ns 
and (rv/jKpvTov 6ep/ as well as a 
certain proportion between them. 
Hist. i. 11, 1 : the seed contains 
the <rv(j.(pvTov vypbv Kal dep/nbv, and 
if these escape, it loses the power 
of germination. See further 
Cans. ii. 6, 1 sq. 8, 3, and other 

4 Cf. Cans. i. 10, 5. Ibid. c. 
21, 3 : rets ISias e/cacrTcoi/ $ucreis 
ir ovv vypOTrjTi Kal r)p6Tir)Ti Kal 
irvKv6r-r]Ti [WiMMER s conjecture] 
Kal p.avoTi]TL Kal rots roiovrois 

eVre 9fp/j.6rrjTi Kal 
The latter, however, 
he remarks, are difficult to mea 
sure : he accordingly exerts him 
self here and in c. 22 to dis 
cover marks by means of which 
we may recognise the degrees 
of temperature in a plant, an 
endeavour in which, as we might 
suppose, he meets with very 
little success. 

5 Cans. ii. 3, 4 : ael yap 8eT 
\6yov nva ex lv r ^ v xpacriv TT)S 
(pvaews irpbs TO Tre/ne^oi/. 7, 1 : 
rb avyyevls TTJS fyixrews tKaffrov 
ayei Trpbs T^V olitfiov [TOTTOV] . . . 
oiov -TI Oep/jLorris Kal 7] J/WX/J^TT^S Kal 
rj |7jpoT7js Kal ff vypOTrjs ^Tjre? 70^ 
ra Trpocrtyopa Kara r^v Kpaaiv. c. 
9, 6 : 7] yap vi6v/nla iracri rov 
o-vyyevovs. The statement of 
BEANDIS (iii. 319) that the effi 
cacy of heat, &c., is conditioned 
also by the opposite is not to be 
found either in Cans. ii. 9, 9, or 
anywhere else in Theophrastus, 
although he states in another 
connection, Hist. v. 9, 7, that 
passive and active must be 


moisture of the air and the ground and on the effects of 
sun and rain. 1 The more harmonious the relation in 
which all these factors stand to one another and to the 
plant, the more favourable are they to its development, 5 
which is therefore conditioned partly by outward in 
fluences and partly by the peculiar nature of the plant 
or the seed, in reference to the latter of which we must 
again distinguish between the active force and the 
passive susceptibility to impressions from without. 3 
This physical explanation does not, of course, with 
Theophrastus any more than with Aristotle exclude the 
teleological, which he finds both in the peculiar perfec 
tion of the plant itself and in its usefulness for man, 
without, however, going deeper into this side of the 
question or developing it in relation to the rest of his 
botanical theory. 4 

The chief subjects discussed in the remaining por 
tions of the two works upon plants are the parts, the 
origin and development, and the classification of plants. 

In considering the first of these Theophrastus en 
counters the question whether annual growths such as 
le aves, blossoms, and fruit are to be regarded as parts 
of the plant or not. Without giving a definite answei 
to this question he inclines to the latter view, 5 and 
accordingly names as the essential external parts of the 

1 Cf. Hist. i. 7, 1 ; Ccius. i. n. 1, of the compression of in- 

21, 2 sqq. ii. 13, 5, iii. 4, 3; 22, 3, ternal heat by external cold, 
iv. 4, 9 sq. 13, and other passages. 2 Caus. i. 10, 5 : G, 8, ii. 9, 13, 

In the explanation of the pheno- iii. 4, 3, and passim. 
mena themselves, Theophrastus 3 The tivvajjus rov iroielv anc 

indeed not unfrequently ?ets rov rrdvxeiv, Caus. iv. 1, 3. 
into difficulty, and rescues him- 4 See svj}ra,vol. ii. p. 3G9, n. 2. 

self by assumptions such as that 3 Hist. i. 1, 1-4. 

referred to stqjra, vol. ii. p. 378, 


plant l the root, stem (or stalk), branches and twigs. 2 

He shows how plants are differentiated by the presence 

or absence, the character, the size, and the position of 

these parts, 3 remarking that there is nothing which is 

found in all plants as invariably as mouth and belly are 

in animals, and that in view of the infinite variety of 

botanical forms we must frequently be content with 

mere analogy. 4 As < internal parts 5 he names bark, 

wood, pith, and as the constituent parts of these again, 

sap, fibres, veins and pulp. 6 From these, which are 

permanent, he distinguishes finally the yearly changing 

elements, which, indeed, in many cases are the whole 

plant. 7 Here, however, as not unfrequently elsewhere, 

-\ he takes the tree as the basis of his investigation ; it 

I seems to stand with him for the perfect plant, just as 

I humanity stands with Aristotle for the perfect animal 

I and man for the perfect type of humanity. 

In his treatment of the origin of plants, Theophras- 

| tus points out three distinct methods of propagating 

| them, viz. from seed, from parts of other plants, and by 

spontaneous generation. 8 The most natural of these is 

1 TO. e|o> fidpia (ibid.), the fv olov ^d\i<rra rb txcrciov, Hut 
tronoiopcpii (ibid. 12, cf. supra, i. 1, 9. Aristotle s view was not 
vol. i. p. 517, n. 6, and vol. ii. altogether identical; see supra, 
P-28, n. 1. vol. ii. p. 35, n. 4. 

2 pifa,, a.Kp/j.(av, K\d8os 3 Ibid. 6 sqq. 

. . . Zffri 8e pffa iJ.ev 81 ov r^v 4 Ibid. 10 sqq. 

rpo(J> V eirdyerai ^ [it depends on 5 TO. evrbs, ibid. ; ra e| &v ravra, 

this, i.e. on the ^VO-IK^, not o^oto^ep}, ibid. 2, 1. 
on^ the position in the ground, 6 Hist. i. 2, 1, 3. On the 

Hisi. i. G, 9] /cauA&j 5e els & meaning of Is, <A.ty, a-ap of 

Qfperai. itavAbv Se Xcyu rb virep plants, see MEYER, Gcscli. der 

yrjs TreQvKbs e> ei> . . . aKpepovas Bot. i. 160 sq. 
8e rovs curb TOVTOV <r%ifoueVous, 7 Hist. i. 2, 1 sq. 

ovs Zvioi KaXovaiv ofrvs. K\a$ov 8 Here he follows Aristotle ; 

8e rb )8Aa(TT7j/ia rb e/c rovruv e</> see supra, vol. ii. p. 36. 
VOL. II. c. r 


from seed. All seed-bearing plants employ this method, 
even if individuals among them exhibit another as 
well. This law, acccording to Theophrastus, is not only 
obvious from observation, but follows still more clearly 
from the consideration that otherwise the seed of such 
plants would serve no purpose, in a system of nature 
where nothing, least of all anything so essential as the 
seed, is purposeless. 1 Theophrastus compares seed, as 
Empedocles had done, to eggs, 2 but he has no true con 
ception of the fructification and sexual differences of 
plants. He often distinguishes, indeed, between male 
and female plants, 3 differing in this from Aristotle ; 4 but 
when we inquire what he means by this, we find, in the 
first place, that this distinction refers always to plants 
as a whole and not to the organs of fructification in 
them, and can apply, therefore, only to the smallest 
portion of the vegetable kingdom ; that, in the second 
place, it is applied by Theophrastus only to trees, and 
not even to all these ; and, thirdly, that even here it rests 
not upon any actual knowledge of the process of fructifi 
cation, but upon vague analogies of popular language. 8 

1 Cans. i. 1, 1 sq. 4, 1; Hist, ing, and that it belongs in fact 

ii. 1, 1, 3. to the unscientific use of 

- Cans. i. 7, 1, cf. ZELLER, Ph. guage. He nowhere gives 

d. Gr. i. 717, 5. So also Aristotle, more exact definition of i 

Gen. An. i. 23, 731, a, 4. significance or its basis; on the 

3 See supra, vol. ii. p. 34, n. 1, contrary, he frequently marks 
and p. 48. it as a customary division by 

4 See Index under tippyy and the use of KaXovcri or a similar 
9rj\vs. expression (e.g. Hist. iii. 3, 7, 8, 

5 It is clear from his whole 1, 12, G, 15, 3, 18, 5). The 
mode of applying the distinction division in his text is limited to 
between male and female plants trees : trees, he says, are divided 
that Theophrastus was not the into male and female (Hist. i. 
first to make it. It is plain 14, 5, iii. 8, 1 ; Cans. i. 22, 1, and 
that he found it already exist- passini) ; and nowhere does he 


On the other hand, he instituted accurate observations 
upon the process of germination in some plants. 1 
Among the different methods of propagating plants by 
slips, bulbs, &c., which Theophrastus minutely dis- 

I call any other plant but a tree 
male or female ; for although 
I he says {Hist. iv. 11, 4) ot: a 
] species of reed that in compari 
son with others it is Qr)Xvs rrj 
7rpo(rotf/et, this is quite different 
from a division into a male and 
female species. Theophrastus 
speaks also (Cans. vi. 15, 4) of 
an 6070? 6rj\vs. Even trees, how 
ever, do not all fall under the 
above division ; of. Hist. i. 8, 2 : 
Kal ra appeva 8e T&V &7]\eLS>u 
oa>5e (rTepa, ev ols 4a"riv a/Ltcfxa. 
This is enough to show that the 
division is not based on any 
correct conceptions as to the 
fructification of plants, and all 
that he further states concerning 
it proves how little value must 
be set upon it. The distinction 
between male and female trees 
is found to consist in the former 
being barren, or at any rate 
less fruitful than the latter 
(Hist. iii. 8, 1). The most general 
distinction between trees is that 
of male and female, wv TO 
Kapirocpopov rb Se a.K.apirov eVt 
rivwv. tv ols 5e a/j.<pw Kapirotyopa, 
rb 6f)\v Ka\\LKapir6repov Kal 
TTo\vKapiroTepoj/ : some, however, 
contrariwise call the latter kind 
oi trees male. Cans. ii. 10, 1 : 
TO. fj.f:v &Kapira TO. 5e Kdpiri/n.a ruv 
aypiwv, & 8/7 0?jAea TO. 8 appcj/a 
naXovffiv. Cf. Hist. iii. . >, 7, c. 9, 1, 
2, 4, 6, c. 10, 4, c. 12, 0, c. 15, 3, 
c. 18, 5 ; Caus. i. 22, 1, iv. 4, 2). 
Moreover, it is remarked that 
the male have more branches 

(Hist. i. 8, 2), and that their 
wood is harder, of closer tissue, 
and darker, while the female are 
mure slender (Hist. iii. 9, 3, \, 
4, 1 ; Caus. i. 8, 4). Only of the 
date tree does Theophrastus say 
that the fruit of the female 
ripens and does not fall off if 
the pollen of the male fall upon 
it, and he compares this with 
the shedding of the spawn by 
the male fish ; but even in this 
he cannot see fructification in 
the proper sense, as the fruit is 
supposed to be already there ; 
his explanation of the matter 
rather is that the fruit is warmed 
and dried by the pollen, and he 
compares the process with the 
caprification of figs (Cans. ii. 9, 
15, iii. 18, 1 ; Hist. ii. 8, 4, 6, G). 
He never supposes that all seed- 
formation depends upon fructifi 
cation. In Caus. iii. 18, 1, he ex 
pressly rejects the idea which 
might have been founded upon 
this fact : wpbs rb TeAeioyoyeu/ ^7; 
avrapites e/i/cu TO drj\u, remarking 
that if it were so there would be 
not only one or two examples of 
it, but it would necessarily esta 
blish itself in all, or at any 
rate in most, cases. It is not 
surprising, therefore, that he 
says (Caus. iv. 4 ; 10) that in the 
case of plains the earth bears 
the same relation to the seed as 
the mother does in the case of 

1 Hist. viii. 2, on grain, pulse, 
and some trees. 



cusses, 1 he reckons grafting and budding, in which he 
says the stem serves as soil for the bud or the graft ; 2 
and, as a second method of a similar kind, the annual 
sprouting of plants. 8 In reference, finally, to spon 
taneous generation, Theophrastus indeed remarks that 
this is not unfrequently merely apparent, the seeds of 
many plants being so minute as to escape observation, 
or having been carried by winds, water and birds to 
places where we least expect to find them. 4 But that 
it does actually take place, especially in the case of 
smaller plants, he does not doubt, 5 and he explains it, like 
the spontaneous generation of animals, as the result of 
the decomposition of certain materials under the in 
fluence of terrestrial and solar heat. 6 

In classifying plants, Theophrastus arranges them 
under the four heads of trees, bushes, shrubs and herbs, 7 
calling attention at the same time to the unsatisfactori- 
iiess of this classification. 8 He further distinguishes 

1 Hist. ii. 1 sq. Cans. i. 1-4 K\a8ov .... fypvyavov 8e TO airb 

and passim. Also propagation pi&s TroAuo-reAexes Kal iro\vK\a5ov 

by the so-called tears (Sa/cpua). on . . . . *ca Se rb anb ptfos (pv\\o- 

which see Cans i. 4, 6, Hist. ii. 2, <p6pov irpoibv da-re Aexes ou 6 Kav\bs 

1, and cf . MEYEE, GescJi. der Hot. <nrpfj.o(p6pos. 
j lyg 8 Ibid. 2 : Se? Se rovs opovs 

- CdUS. i. 6. OWTCOS aTro8exe<r0cu Kal Aa/ji,pdi>eu/ 

3 Caus. i. 10, 1, where this wsrvira) Kal eVl rb irav X^yo^vovs 
subject is further discussed. evm 70^ Uws ^VaAAaTreti/ 5o|ete, 

4 Caus. i. 5, 2-4, ii. 17, 5 ; ra 8e Kal -n-apa rr)i> ayoay^v [by 
Hist. iii. 1,5. culture] aAAoio repa yivea da.i K.a.1 

3 Cf. Caus. i. 1, 2, 5, 1. ii. 9, eitftaiveiv TTJS (pixrecas. And after 

14, iv. 4, 10. Hint, iii. 1, 4. explaining by examples and 

6 Caus. i. 5, 5 ; cf . ii. 9, 6, 17, 5. farther enlarging upon this fact, 

7 Hist. i. 3, 1, with the that there are also bushes and 

further explanation : SeVSpov p.\v herbs with the form of trees, and 

ovv eVn TO ctTrb plfos ^ovoffr\fx es that we might thus be inclined 

o&rbv OVK fvair6\vTov to lay more stress upon the size, 

TO airb OI ^TJ? TTO\V- strength and durability of plants, 


between garden and wild plants, fruit-bearing and 
barren, blossoming and non-blossoming, evergreen and 
deciduous ; while admitting that these also are vanishing 
distinctions, he yet regards them as the common natural 
characteristics of certain classes. 1 He lays special stress, 
however, on the division into land arid water plants. 2 Tn 
his own treatment of plants he follows the first main 
division, except that he classes trees and bushes toge 
ther. 3 Into the further contents of his botanical writ 
ings, however, we cannot here enter. 4 

Of Theophrastus s work upon Zoology 5 hardly any 
thing remains to us : nor does the information which 
we possess from other sources as to his zoological doc 
trines justify us in attributing to him more in this field 

he concludes again, 5 : 5td 5?/ 
ravra &a"jre \to/j.fv OVK aKtfio- 

v T& 


1 Hist. i. 3, 5 sq. and some 
further remarks c. 14, 3. In 
respect to the distinction be 
tween garden and wild plants 
especially he observes here and 
iii. 2, 1 sq. that this is a natural 
one, as some plants degenerate 
under cultivation, or at least do 
not improve ; others, on the con 
trary (Cans. i. 16, 13), are de 
signed for it. 

2 Hut. i. 4, 2 sq. 14, 3, iv, G, 
1 ; Cans. ii. 3, 5. 

3 Books ii.-v. of the History of 
Plants treat of trees and bushes, 
therefore of ligneous plants ; 
book vi. of shrubs ; books vii. 
viii. of herbs ; book ix. dis 
cusses the sap and healing 
qualities of plants. 

4 BEAXDIS, iii. 302 sqq., gives 

a review of the contents of both 
works ; see also a shorter one in 
MEYER, Gescli. der Bot. i. 159 

3 Seven books, which DiOG. v. 
43 first enumerates singly by 
their particular titles, and then 
comprehends under the common 
title TT. foW. Single books are 
also cited by Athenasus among 
others : see USENER, p. 5, 
Theophrastus himself refers 
(Cans. Pl.ii. 17, 9, cf iv. 5, 7) to 
the IffTopianrfpi &uv. He does not 
seem, however (if we may judge 
from the single titles in Diogenes), 
to have intended in this work to 
give a complete natural history, 
but only (as was his general plan 
where Aristotle had already laid 
down the essential principles) 
to supplement Aristotle s work 
by a minute treatment of par 
ticular points. To this work 
belong Fr. 171-190. 



than an extension of Aristotle s labours by further obser 
vations and some isolated researches of minor value. 1 

His views upon the nature of life and of the human 
soul are of more importance. 2 Several of the funda- 

The citations from him re 
lating to this, apart from isolated. 
and sometimes rather mythical, 
references to his natural history 
(e.ff. Fr. 175 and the statement 
in PLUT. Qu. conv. vii. 2, 1), are 
limited to the following: 
Animals occupy a higher stage 
than plants : they have not only 
life but also 07? [^] and 
irpd^fis (Hist. i. 1,1); they are 
related to man, not only in body, 
but also in soul (seeinfra, p. 394, 
n. 1). Their life proceeds in the 
first instance from a native, in 
ternal heat (Fr. 1 TT. AenroiJ/ux. 2) ; 
at the same time they require a 
suitable (fru/uneTpos) environment, 
air, food, &c. (Cans. PL ii. 3, 4 
sq. iii. 17, 3); alterations of 
place and season produce in them 
certain changes (Hist. ii. 4, 4, 
Cans. ii. IB, 5, 10, fi). With 
Aristotle (see Chap. X. sw^ra) 
Theophrastus emphasises the 
marks of design in their bodily 
organs as against the older phys 
ics : the physical organism is the 
instrument, not the cause of vital 
activity (De Sensu, 24). Here, 
however, Theophrastus does not, 
any more than Aristotle (see Ch. 
VII. supra), overlook the fact that 
even in the case of animals it is 
impossible to trace in every parti 
cular a definite design (Fr. 12, 29 : 
see supra, vol. ii.p. 11, n. 2). A dis 
tinction is occasionally made be 
tween land- and water- animals 
(Hist. i. 4, 2,14, 3. iv. 6, 1 ; Cam. ii. 
3, 5) ; wild and tame (Hist. iii. 2, 2, 
Cans. i. 16, 13) ; on the latter dis 
tinction in Hist. i. 3, 6 he remarks 

that the measure of it is relation 
to man, 6 yap avOpooiros 3) p.6vov fy 
/uaAiCTTa rj/j.fpov. The use which 
the different animals are to one 
another Theophrastus had referred 
to in the Natural History (Caus. 
ii. 17 ; 9 cf. 5). Concerning the 
origin of animals he also believes 
in spontaneous generation even 
in the case of eels, snakes and 
fish (Cans. i. 1, 2, 5,5, ii. 9, , 
17, 5; Fr. 171, 9, 11, 174, 1, (> ; 
cf. PORPH. DeAbfft. ii. 5, accord 
ing to which the first animals 
must have sprung from the earth, 
and the treatise ir. TU>V avTOju.ot.Tvt> 
(?<av in DIOG-. v. 46) ; their meta 
morphoses are mentioned in Cans. 
ii. 1G, 7, iv. 5, 7. Kespiration 
he conceives, with Aristotle, to 
serve the purpose of refrigera 
tion : fish (to not breathe, because 
the water performs this service 
for them (Fr. 171, 1, 3 ; cf. Fr. 
10, 1). Lassitude is traced (Fr. 
7, 1, 4, 6, 16) to a <nWrj|is, a de 
composition of certain consti 
tuents of the body (cf. the 
avi>T7]y/j.a, vol. ii. p. 51, n. 2, sup.} ; 
vertigo (Fr. 8, IT. Ixiyyuv}, to the 
irregular circulation of the 
humours in the head. Fr. 9, TT. 
ISpwTcav investigates the proper 
ties of perspiration and their 
conditions. Fainting is the re 
sult of the want or loss of vital 
heat in the respiratory organs 
(Fr. 10, TT. AetTToil/uxtas); simi 
larly palsy results fruin cold in 
the blood (Fr. 11, IT. irapaXvcrews). 
- Theophr. had spoken of the 
soul in Physics, Bks. iv. and v., 
which according to THEMIST, De 


mental conceptions of the Aristotelian doctrine are here 
called in question. Aristotle had described the soul 
as the unmoved principle of all movement, and had 
referred its apparent movements, in so far as they can 
properly be regarded as such, to the body. 1 Theo 
phrastus held that this is true only of the lower activi 
ties of the soul : thought-activity, on the contrary, must, 
he thinks, be regarded as a movement of the soul. 2 

An. 91 a, Spengel ii. p. 199, 11, 
were also entitled TT. ij/ux ?*- 

1 See supra, Ch. XI. 

- According to SIMPL. Plnjs. 
225, a, he said in the first 
book IT. Kivhffews : on of pev 
opel-eis al af fitiQu^iai Kal ooyal 
ffw^ariKal Kivf)aeis flffl Kal OTTO 
TOVTOW apx^l^ ^xofo tj , bcrai 8e 
Kpurets Kal Beupiai, ravras OVK HCTTLV 
is eVepoj/ ayaye iv, aAA ei/ avrrj 
TT) ifuxf Ka ^ ^ UPX*! Ka ^ *) e J ^P7 e la 
Kal rb Ve Aos, fl 5e ST) Kal 6 vovs 
KpsiTTOV TI /j.epos Kal QeioTtpov. aVe 
STJ e|a>0i/ tirei<Tiwv Kal -jravreXeios. 
Kal TOVTOLS eirdyei virep yuei/ ovv 
TOVTWV (TKeTTTeov tt Tiva x u P l(r V-bi 
X L Tpbs rbv opov, eirel TO ye 
Kii/7}(rets eh/cu al ravras 6/j.o\oyov- 
fj.evov. We know that Theo 
phrastus also described music as 
Kiv-tjais tyvxys. To him, also, 
KITTER, iii. 413, refers THEMIST. 
Do An. 68 a, Sp ii. p. 29 sq., 
where divers objections to Ari 
stotle s criticism of the assump 
tion that the soul moves, 
are cited from an unnamed 
writer who is described with the 
words b T(av Api0"TOTeAous 
e|eTO(TT^y. THEMIST. 89 b. Sp. 
p. 189, 6, certainly says eo^pacr- 
TOS ev ols e|eTO^ei TO Api(TTore\ovs: 
and Hermolaus Barbaras trans 
lates (according to Hitter) both 
passages Theophrastus in Us 

in quibus tractat locos ab 
Aristotele ante tractates. But 
this very similarity makes it 
possible that Hermolaus merely 
transferred Theophrastus s name 
from the second passage to the 
first a transference hardly 
justified by that passage itself. 
The statements of Themistius 
seem rather to refer to another, 
and indeed far later, writer 
than Theophrastus, e.g., when he 
reproaches his anonymous op 
ponent (68, a), with having 
apparently wholly forgotten 
Aristotle s views upon motion, 
Kairoi (TVVQ^IV e /cSeSw/cws TU>V 
Trept Kivf](T(as elpt^fifvuv ApiffTo- 
TeAei (Theophrastus can hardly 
have written such a treatise 
e/cSeSw/cws moreover points to an 
original work nor was it neces 
sary to appeal to this to prove 
that Aristotle s theory of motion 
might have been known to him) ; 
when he reports of him (68, b.) : 
opoXoyuv TTJV Kivncriv r^s 
ovcriav elycu Kal (pvffiv, Sia 
fyflffiv, f 6ff(p kv i^aXXov 
Tovoincp juaAAoj/ rr\s ovirias aiirys 
iiffraff6cu, &c, (this Theophrastus 
would certainly not have said) ; 
when he says to him with refer 
ence to this that he appears not 
to know the distinction of motion 
and energy. The general tone 


Aristotle had spoken of a Passive Reason, declaring 
that only the capacity of knowledge is innate, and that 
this capacity can only develop gradually into actual 
knowledge; 1 but the development of that which is 
present at first only as a capacity in other words, the 
realisation of possibility is movement. 2 It is improbable 
that Theophrastus on this account defined the nature of 
the soul differently from Aristotle ; 3 but on the other 
hand, he found serious difficulty in accepting his view of 
the relation between active and passive reason. The 
question, indeed, as to how reason can at once come from 
without and be innate, may be answered by assuming 
that it enters at the moment of birth. But a further 
difficulty arises : if it be true that reason is at first 
nothing actually, but everything only potentially, how 
does it accomplish that transition to actual thought 
and passion, which we must attribute to it in one sense 
or another, when it performs an act of thought ? If it 
be said that it is impelled to think by external things, 
it is hard to understand how the incorporeal can be acted 
upon and altered by the corporeal. If it receives the 
impulse from itself the only other alternative to im- 

of Themistius s argument conveys Aristotle had himself defined 

the impression that he is dealing the soul as the entelechy of an 

with a contemporary. organic body. Theophrastus 

1 See supra, vol. ii. p. 96. therefore, would have merely 

- See^7-a,vol.ii.p.380,n.l. added that the first substratum 

JAMBLICHUS says, indeed, of the soul, the 6elov o-w^o is the 

in STOB. ^ Eel. i. 870 : eVepot fc ether ; which, however, he prob- 

[sc. TO^ Apio-TOTcAi/cwi/] Te\fi6~ ably meant in the same sense in 

TTjra avr^v a^pifrvrai /car ovviav which Aristotle also (see supra, 

rov eeiov a^aros, %v [the re\fi6- vol. ii. p. (5, n. 2) conceived of the 

T??y perhaps, not the QCiov cru/^a] soul as united to a substance 

fi>Te\(Xfiav /caAe? Apto-TOTtAijs, like the ether. 

wvirfp 8^ ev eV ots eo^atrros. But 


pulse from the senses then it is not passive at all. In 
any case this passivity must be of a different kind from 
passivity in general : it is not the mobilisation of that 
which has not yet reached completion, but it is a state 
of completion. If, moreover, matter is defined as that 
which exists only potentially, dees not reason, conceived 
of as mere potentiality, become something material ? If, 
finally, the distinction must be made in the case of rea 
son, as elsewhere, between the efficient and the material 
cause, the question yet remains, how are we further to 
describe the nature of each ? what are we to understand 
by the passive reason ? and how is it that the active 
reason, if it is innate, does not act from the very first ? 
if it i,s not innate, how does it afterwards originate ? l 

1 Theophrastus in THBMIST. 
De An. 91 a, Sp. 198, 13 sq. 
(the same in a rather poor and 
corrupt extract in PRISCIAN S 
paraphrase, ii. 4, p. 365 sq. 
Wimm.) : 6 5e vovs irws nore 
|o>0ej/ &v Kal ci&crTrep (TriQeros, o/xcos 
ffv/j.<f)vf]s ; Kal ris ^ (pvcris avrov ; 
TO fMfi> yap /j.r)5fv elvat /car ej/e p- 
yeiav, Svi dfMfi 8e irdvra, /caAws, 
Sxrirep Kal rf aVffdyorts. ov yap OVTM 
Xrjirrfov, a>s oi5e avros 4pio~TtKbv 
ydp aAA a>s viroKeii^cviiv riva 
Swa/j.iv, Kaddirep Kal eirl rwv v\iK(av 
[the above statement, that it is 
nothing KOT evepyeiav, must not 
be taken to mean that it is never 
present itself : rather is its pre 
sence as faculty presupposed by 
every exercise of reason]. dAAa 
rb %(ji)t)v apa ov^ us siriQtTov, aAA 
us ev rrj irpwry yevefffi av/j.irtpi- 
\a(j.fid.vov [-jSafdjUej/or] dereov. TTWS 
5e TroTe yivfrai TO VOIJTO,; [how 
does reason become the object of 
thought ? how does it unite itself 

with it ? Aristotle had said of 
divine as well as of human 
thought that in its exercise it is 
the object of thought ; see supra, 
vol. i. p. 197, n. 3, and p. 199] 
Kal Tt T& Trdff^fiv avrov ; Se? 
yap [sc. Tratrxeii/], eforep els evep- 
yeiav ri^fi, Sunrep 7] atvQriais 
dora-judr&j Se virb ffuf^aros ri rb 
TrdOos ; ?) irola jU,6TO)8oAr) / /cat 
TTorepoj/ aTr e/ce:i/ou rj ap^r) -ft air 
avrov ; rb /j.v yap [for on the one 
hand] irdff-^eiv air e/cetj/ou 5^|etev 
av [sc. o vous] (ouSei/ 70^ d^) 
eauTOu [sc. Tratrxet] T&V eV iraflei), 
TO 5e apxw [1. dpx$?, as PRISCIAX 
also has] iravrcav elvai Kal eV 
avT(f} TO j/oelv Kal /j.}) faffirep rals 
altrdr](T<Tiv air avrov [thought must 
lie in its own power, and not come 
to it from the object as sensation 
to the senses auToD must be re 
ferred to e /ceiVou ; BEENTANO S 
changes, Psychol. d. AT. 219, are 
unnecessary], rdxa 8 &v tyaveir] 
Kal TOVTO aTOirov, fl 6 vovs v\i]s 



That Theophrastus nevertheless held fast by the Ari 
stotelian doctrine of the twofold nature of reason is 
beyond dispute ; l what we know of the way in which 
he silenced his doubts shows merely that he took the 
various terms, as applied to reason, in a different sense 
from that which they bear in other fields, holding that 

exe* (pvffiv /j.yo ev &v, airavra 8e 
Svvar6s. Themistius adds that 
Theophrastus continued these 
discussions in the fifth book of 
the Physics, and in the second 
on the Soul, and that they are 
fj.t<TTa TroAAtoj/ jnev airoptuiv, iro\\uv 
8e eTTiffrdaeoov iroXX&v 8e \vaeuiv. 
The result is, on /cat irepl rov 
Svvdfj.ei vov o~x e $bv ra avra 8m- 
jropovo Lv, etre e^cadev earriv ezre 

\eyovo~i 8e Kal avrbv airadfj 
X^piffrbv, &o~Trep rbv TTOLTjriKbv Kal 
rlv evepyeia dnaOfys yap, (prjcriv, 
o vovs, el /XT/ apa oAAws iraOfjriKos 
[PKISCIAN also has these words, 
but he also quotes, as an intro 
duction to them, the remark 
that we cannot suppose 
reason to be wholly impassive : 
el yap #Ao>s airaO-rjs, (prjcrli , 
ovSev vo-})<rei\. Kal OTI rb TradrjTtKbv 
UTT [1. eV] avrov oi>x ds rb 
KivtiTiKhv \f]irreov, areA^s 70^ T] 
Kivtiais, aAA us evepyeiav. [So 

also PEISCIAN.] Kal Trpoiwv ^ai 
[following Aristotle, see sup., vol. 
ii. p. 61, n. 3] TOS /*ev ala-B-fjareis OVK 
avev crw/u,aros, rbv 5e vovv \(api(n-6v. 
(Sib, here adds PRISCIAX, c. 9, p. 
272 W., TUV e|w TrpoeXBovTuv [1. 
.] ov Se7rai irpbs rfyv reA- 
dfMevos 8e Kal r<av Trepl 
rov TToitjriKov vov Siwpiff/ 
ApicrroreXei, e /ce?j/o, (prjffiv, 
0-/C67TT60V t> [perhaps 2rt] 877 

eV Trdffij (pvo-ei, rb us vAyv Kal 
Svvd/u,i, rb Se atriov Kal iroirjriKbv, 
Kal ori ael ri/u.iu>repov rb iroiovv rov 
Trdo~xvros Kal 77 apyr/ rijs v\ris. 
ravra airoSfx^rai, SiaTropz? 8e, 
rives ovv avrat al Svo (pvo~eis, Kal ri 
irdXiv rb fnroKeifj.vov 7} o-vv^prrj- 
/j.evov rff iroiririKfp fj.iKrbv yap 
TTUS o vovs UK re rov itoL fjriKov Kal 
rov Swd/aei. el ovv o~vjj.<pvros 
6 KLVWV, Kal evdvs expfjv Kal del 
[so. Kivelv ]. el Se vo-repov, fj,era 
rivos Kal ir&s f) yevevis ; eoiKev ovv 
Kal ayevvr]TOs, el-rep Kal acpeapros. 
evvTrapxtov 8 ovv, Sia ri OVK ael ; 
T) Sid ri Arj07j Kal avarr) Kal ^/evSos; 
^ Sia rfv n iiv; The last para 
graph THEMTSTIUS gives, 89 
b, Sp., 189, 8, more literally, 
apparently, as follows : el 
yap us eis, tyijo-lv, rj eKeivc*) 

[the VOVS TTOiTJT.], et 0~VlJ.(pVrOS 

ael, Kal ev6vs exprjv el 5 varepov 
&c. The development of the 
active reason from the potential 
is described also in the fragment 
in PEISCIAN, c. 10, which has its 
place here, as the acquisition of 
a e|ts (in the sense discussed, 
vol. i. p. 285, n. 3, supra). For the 
text in the above, besides SPEN- 
GEL and BEANDIS, iii. 288 sq., 
TOESTEIK, Arist. de An. 187 sq. 
and BEENTANO, Hid. 216 sqq. 
may be consulted. 

1 Of. previous note and supra, 
vol. ii. p. 391, n. 2. 


its evolution has no relation to the incorporeal, which 
is always present to it, but only to the corporeal, of 
which it furnishes the explanation. 1 

In the views to which we have just referred, and 
especially in attributing motion to the activity of the 
soul, Theophrastus shows an umnistakeable inclination 
to identify the spiritual element in man more closely 
with the physical. Similarly a statement has come 
down to us in which he asserts that the soul of man is 
of the same nature as that of animals, that it exhibits 
the same activities and states, and is only distinguished 

1 Even the intimations in 
THEMISTIUS take this turn. The 
passivity and potentiality of 
the reason is taken to be of 
another kind than that of cor 
poreal existence; as independent 
of the body it does not require 
external impressions in order to 
reach completeness as active, 
but is self -evolved from Suva/us 
to e|ts ; error and forgetfulness 
are explained by its union with 
the body. On similar lines is the 
Theophrastean defence of the Ari 
stotelian doctrine which PRIS- 
CIAN gives us (see ii. 17, p. 277, 
W.) : ira\iv Se i>Trofj.i^.vi](TK^i (f>i\o- 
(TOfpwrara 5 &e6(pp. us Kal avrb TO 
e?j/cu TO, Trpdyfjiara rbv vovv Kal Kal evepyeia \t]TrrfOV 
otKetws iva /urj ws eVt rris uArjs 
Kara ffreprjffii TO Svvd/j.ei, r) Kara 

TO evepyeia VTTOVOT] oAAct 
fjLtiSf us firl rrjs alff9 f)(Tws, evda 
Sid TTJS rwv alcrdrjrypiwv Kivr,(rews 
il rwv \6ywv yiverai Trpoflo\}], Kal 
avrrj TUV e|w KeifAevcav ovffa 0(a- 
prjTiK?/, aAAa voepus eVt vov Kal rb Kal TO fvepyeia tlvai ra 
Trpdy/nara ATjTrreoi/ . . . c. 20, p. 
281, W. : Tovro 5e [the previous 
citation from Aristotle] Siapd w 
6 &. eVcrye* aAA OTO.V ytvyrai /cul 
vor]dri, 5rj\of OTL ravra e ^ej, TO. 5e 
i>o-r)ra ael, eiVep r) eVto-T^rj r] Qew- 
pf]TiKT] ravrb ro7s Trpdy/j-affiv avrr] 
8e 7) /car eWp7etai> SrjAoi/oVi, 
KvpicaTaTt] ydp. [We must point 
in this way and avT-rj . . . yap 
as probably an explanation of 
Priscian.] rc5 v<$, fy-ricrl, TO. p.fv 
vor^ra, rovreffTi rd ^i)Aa, ael 
(TffiSrj /car ovcriav avro"is 
Kal (TTi[i>] oirep rd voyrd 
rd Se vv\a, orav voyOri, Kal avrd 
T<$ v<$ i>Trdpj;i, ov^ ws ffvcTroi-^ws 
avTtp voTf]dr]a6fj.eva ovSeiroTe ydp 
Ta tVuAa TW vi$ dv\cp OVTL aAA 
orav o vovs rd eV avrq} p.}] ws avrd 
fj.6vov aAAa Kal ws dtria rwv evv\wv 
p, Tore Kal T6t> vcp virdp^fi rd 
Kara TT)V alrlav. In making 
use of these passages it must not 
be forgotten that we have in 
them the words of Theophrastus 
only in the paraphrase of a Neo- 



from it by a greater degive of perfection. 1 This, how 
ever, can only refer to the lower powers of the soul 
exclusive of reason. 2 The relation of the lower to the 
higher elements of the soul seems also to have offered 
insuperable difficulties to him ; we know at least that 
in regard to the imagination he was in doubt whether 
it ought to be referred to the rational or the irrational 
part. 3 From what we know of his treatment of the 
doctrine of reason we may conjecture that he found this 
subject also full of difficulty. 4 

We have fuller details of Theophrastns s doctrine of 

1 POEPH. UK Abut. iii. 25 
(a pud BEEN AYS, Tlieoplir. iibr-r 
Frommir/h. 97, 184 ; for the frag 
ment there given belongs, as 
BEKNAYS proves at p. 99, to this 
hook and not to the TT. {ywv 
fofypacrros Se KCU 
\6yu>. rovs e /c 

T<JOV aurcav yfvvj]Qtvro.s .... OIK- 
fiovs fivai (pixrei dAA7]Acoi . 
So also of people of the same race, 
even if they are not of the same 
descent : irdvras 5e rovs avOpc&Trovs 
a\\r]\ois (ptt/jLei/ olKfiovs re ical 
els elvai Suolv Qarepov, $) r<f 
af eivai roov ai>ra>v, $j TO? 
KOL T]9<jav Kal TO.VTOV -yei/ovs 
iv .... KOI ^v Kal Traffi 
ois a i re TO>I> ffuifjidruv ap^al 
at avral [i.e. seed, flesh, 
<?.]. TTQ\V 5e yUaAAoj/ r<j5 ras cv 
avro?s \|/ixas a8ia<p6povs Tre<pvKevai, 
\eyca ofy rats iriOv/j.iais Kal rats 
opyals, en 5e ro?s AoytcryUoTs, /cat 
^.aAffTTa iravTiav rats alffd^fftatv. 
aAA tacnrep ra (ru/J.ara, Kal ra? 
ovrca TO yuej 

nacri ye fj.r]i/ aiirols at avral TT(pv- 
naaiv apxai. STJAO? 5e TJ 

oiKei6rr)s. The rest conceins 
Porphyry, not Theophrastus. 

- The \oyiff/j.ol, which with 
the beasts are different in per 
fection, are not in anj r very 
different position from the 
analoga of vovs and (ppovycrts, 
ascribed to the beasts by Ari 
stotle (supra, vol. ii p. 27, n. 6, 
and p. 38, n. 2). 

3 MMPL. DC An. 80, a. As 
to the difference between phan 
tasy and perception, see also 
PEISCIAN, c. 3, fi, 263, W. 

1 With this theory of the 
imagination was connected a 
question referred to by PEIS- 
ciAN (see PLOTIN. p. 565, ed. 
Didot, of. BBAXDIS, iii. 373). 
It is to be noted, however, that 
Priscian does not expressly name 
Theophrastus ; and that the sup 
position that he is here referring 
to him is a conjecture of DUB- 
NBE S. The question is, why do 
we remember our dreams when 
we are awake, and forget our 
waking life in dreams ? We do 
not get any clear answer from 


the senses. 1 Here, however, he adopts Aristotle s con 
clusions without important modification. 2 The views 
of previous philosophers upon the senses and the objects 
of sense-perception are accurately presented and tested 
from the point of view of the Peripatetic doctrine. 3 
Theophrastus himself explains sensation, with Aristotle, 
as a change in the organs of sense by means of which 
they become assimilated, not in matter but in form, to 
the object of perception. 4 This effect proceeds from 
the object. 5 In order that it may be produced it is 
necessary that the latter should stand to the organ of 
sense in a certain harmonious relation, the nature of 
which accordingly here forms an important subject of 
discussion ; (; it may not, however, be sought for either 
in the homogeneity or the heterogeneity of the con 
stituent parts of its terms alone. 7 The operation of 

1 We can only notice in pas- rounding circumstances, some- 
sing another anthropological times a condition of cold and 
inquiry: namely, the discussion weariness, and sometimes a heat- 
on Melancholy, which is to be ing and exciting effect, 
found in the Aristotelian Pro- For which see p. 58 sqq. of 
Hems (xxx. 1, pp. 1)53-955), the vol. ii. supra. 
Theophrastean origin of which 3 In the De Sensu, as to 
(I.e. from the book ?r. MeAcry- which sec vol. ii. p. 354, n. 3. 
XoAt os mentioned by DJOG. v. 44), 4 PEISCIAN, i. 1, p. 232, W: 
ROSE, De- Arist. libr. ord. 191 has \fyei /m.ev ovv KOI avrbs, Kara TO. 
detected by means of the refer- eft>7? /cat roiis \6yovs &Veu TT/S v\t]s 
ence therein (954, a, 20) to the yiveo-Oai rrjv t s |o/*o,Wii/. The 
book on Fire ( 35, 40). The theory of an airoppo^, i.e. an ef- 
diverse effects which it was cus- rluence from the object to the 
ternary to attribute to the ^ueAatj/a sense, is attacked in the De 
XoAr? are explained, with the aid Sensu, 20, cf. Cans. PI. vi. 5. 4. 
of an analogy drawn from the Compare the passages cited from 
effects of wine, by the theory Aristotle supra, vol. ii. p. 59 n. 2. 
that the ueAotvo %oA^ was of its 5 PRISCIAN, i. 37, p. 254, W. 
own nature cold, but was capable fi De Sensu, 32, PEISC. i. 44, 
of taking on a high degree of p. 258, W, Cans. PI. vi. 2, 1,5, 4. 
heat, and that accordingly it 7 Both views are attacked by 
produced according to the sur- Theophrastus in the De Stnsii, 



the object upon the senses is always mediated, accord 
ing to Theophrastus, by a third term. 1 In developing 
his own doctrine, as in criticising his predecessors, he 
doubtless discussed each of the senses separately, but 
only a meagre report has here come down to us. 2 
Like Aristotle, he distinguished the sensus communis 
from the other senses, but did not wholly agree with 
that philosopher s view of the way in which the uni 
versal qualities of matter are perceived. 3 He defends 
the veracity of sensation against the attacks of Demo- 


31; the first also ibid.. 19, and 
the second opud PRISC. i. 34, 
p. 252. Cf. sujira, vol. i. p. 454 sq. 

1 Cf. supra, vol. i. p. 519 (on 
the 5tr?xes and Sioff/j-ov). Pmsc. 
i. 16, 20, 30, 40, p. 241, 244, 250, 
255; Cans. PL vi. 1, 1. Theo- 
phrastus here says, in agreement 
with Aristotle (vide supra, vol. ii. 
p. 64), that all sensations reach 
us through some medium, which 
is in the case of Touch our own 
flesh, and in the case of the other 
senses certain external sub 
stances : for Sight tbe trans 
parent medium ; for Hearing, the 
air ; for Taste, water ; for Smell, 
air and water together. He also 
considers that the immediate 
organs of sense-perception in the 
c*seof Sight, Hearing and Smell 
are formed out of water and air. 

- Besides the passages already 
cited, we ought to mention here 
the observations (Fr. 4 De Odor. 
4, Cans. PI. vi. 5, 1 sq. ; which 
follow Aristotle, as to whom see 
supra, vol. ii. p. 65, n. 3) that 
although Smell is in man the 
feeblest of the senses, yet he 
alone cares for a pleasant smell 
for its own sake, and that sensa 

tions of Hearing make the 
keenest impression on our emo 
tions (PLUT. De Audiendo, 2, p. 
38, a) ; and the account of eyes 
that send out fire (aptid SIMPL. 
De Ccolo, Schol. 513, a, 28 ; with 
which the citations supra, vol. ii. 
p. 65,n. 1, should be compared) ; 
and the criticisms of the theory 
of Democritus (see ZELLER, Ph. 
d. Gr. i. p. 818) as to the exist 
ence of an image of any visible 
object in the air. Nevertheless 
THEOPHRASTUS himself said 
(op. PRISCIAN, i. 33, p. 251, W) 
as to images in mirrors : TTJS 
fj.op(pT]s (tHTTTfp o.iroTvir&ffiv iv T( 
aepi yii>e<rdai. 

3 Aristotle had said (in the 
De Anima, iii.> 1, 425, a, 16 sqq.) 
that size, form, &c. were per 
ceived by means of motion ; &TO- 
irojf Se 6 Qe6(pp. [(prjalv^ , flrrjvfj-op^v 
TT) Kivrjaei (PRISC. i. 46, p. 259, W). 

4 In the De Sensu, 68 sq. 
(where, however, for the corrupt 
Xv/j.ov in 68 we should read, not, 
with Schneider and Philippson, 
X^AoO, but rather 9ep/j.ov ) he com 
plains that Democritus treated 
weight, lightness, hardness and 
softness as things in themselves, 


As a Peripatetic, Theophrastus of course asserted 
the freedom of the will. 1 In his treatise on voluntary 
action 2 he fully discussed this subject, and possibly 
took notice of the Stoic doctrine of determination that 
was just then rising into notice. But on this point, as 
on so many others in Aristotle s psychology which 
demanded further investigation, little is known of 
Theophrastus s contribution to science. 

We have somewhat fuller information as to his 
ethical doctrines. 3 Here also he merely continued the 

and yet considered cold, heat, 
sweetness &c., as merely relative 
qualities of things. He argues 
that if these qualities depend on 
the form of the atoms e.g. if 
warmth is said to consist in 
roundness of atoms then such 
qualities must be in some sense 
objective. If they are supposed 
not to be objective because they 
do not appear alike to all men, 
then the same conclusion should 
follow as to all other qualities of 
things. Even as to such qualities 
as sweetness and bitterness, 
people are deceived only as to a 
particular case, and not as to the 
nature of sweets and bitters. 
Properties so essential as heat 
and cold, must be something be 
longing to the bodies that have 
them. Cr . on this the references 
supra, vol. i. p. 209. EPICURUS 
defended the atomic view against 
Adv. Col. 7, 2, p. 1110). 

1 STOB. Eel i. 206 : e6<f>p. 
irpoorSiaipe i (Mem. -ap9poi) rcus 
airiais T^V Trpoa pecnv. PSEUDO- 
PLUT. V. Horn. ii. 120, p. 1155. 

2 EL eKovffiov a , DlOG. V. 43. 

3 DlOG. v. 42 sq. (with which 
cf. the further information in 

USENER, Anal. Theoplir. 4 sq.) 
attributes to Theophrastus the 
following ethical works: 42. 
TT. ptuv three books (if this work 
really treated of the different 
pursuits in life, e.g. the fiios 

icbs, iic. [cf. svjtra, vol. ii. p. 140, 
n. 2], and was not merely bio 
graphical) ; 43, epwriKos a 
(ATHEN. xiii. 562, e. 467, b. 606, 
C), IT. epwros a (3TEABO, X. 4, 12, 
p. 478), TT. ei/SatjCioj/i as (ATHEN. 
xii. 543, xiii. 567, a; BEKKEE, 
Ancc-d. Gr. i. 104, 31 ; Cic. Tusc. 
v. 9, 24, cf. ^ELIAN. V. ][. ix. 

1 1 ) ; 44, TT. ijSovrjs us A/ncrro- 
Te Arjs a , TT. rjSovrjs &\\o a (ATHEN. 
xii. 526, d, 511, c; ibid. vi. 273, c. 
viii. 347, e, where he adds, how 
ever, that this work was also at 
tributed to Chamseleon) ; KoAAi- 
ffQfv-ns $ TV. TtcvQovs (ALEX. De An. 
fin., Cic. Tusc. v. 9, 25, iii. 10, 
21); 45, TT. Qixtas 3 B. 
(HiERON. vi. 517, b, ed. Vallars.: 
GELL. N. A. i. 3, 10, viii. 6, and 
infra, p. 409 sq.), TT. QiXoTi/j-ias 

2 B. (Cic. ad Att. ii. 3 ad Jin.) ; 
46, ir. tyevdovs jfiovTjs (OLYMPIO 
DOR. Philcb. 269); 47, TT. 

ias : T]QiKu>v <TXO\()V a! : rjOiKol 
(v. infra) : TT. /coAa/cet as 



work of Aristotle, his chief merit being the greater 
fullness with which he develops it in details. We can- 

a (ATHEN. vi. 254, d) : dpiX-nrucbs 
a: tr.opKova: TT. irXovrov a! (ASPAS. 
in Eth. N. 51,andCiC. Off. ii. 16, 
56). TrpojSA^uaTa troXniKa. i]9iKa 
(pvffiitaepwTiKaa ; 50, TT. u<reeuis 
(Sclwl. in Aristojjk. Av. 1354; 
as to BERNAYS view vide supra 
ii. p. 355, n. 2), TT. iraiUfias T) T. 
aperuv % IT. ffu><ppo(rvvT]S a (to this 
work the Fragrn. apud STOB. 
/Y/>riZ. iv. 216, No. 124, ed. Mem. 
ight be referred). A work TT. 

wi/ not named by Diogenes is 
referred to by SIMPL. Catcg. 69, 
8. 6 cAoZ. m Ar. 70, b, 3. Theo- 
phrastus, however, also wrote two 
larger ethical works, of which one 
may possibly be the i)6iKal < 
of Diog., which must in that case 
have had more than one book. 
The two are referred to as HQiKa 
and TT. HfloJi/. Out of 0eo0o. eV 
rms WIKOIS, PLUT. Pericl. 38 
quotes a story about Pericles. 
Ei rots TV. T)Q<av Theophr. had, 
according to the Scholiast in 
CRAMER S Aneod. Paris, i. 194, 
made mention of the avarice of 
Simonides, and according to 
ATHEN. xv. 673 e. a contemporary 
of this scholar named Adrantus 
wrote five books irtpl r&v itapa 
eo^pao-Tw ev rots irepl T)Q<av Ka6 
iffropiav Kal Ae|ii/ Q/iTOVfiwotv, and 
a sixth book Trepl TWJ/ cV rols 

We must assume from this that 
this ethical treatise of Theo- 
phrastus was on a more compre 
hensive scale than Aristotle s, 
since it gave occasion for so much 
more voluminous an historical 
commentary ; and we also gather 
expressly that it, like the Nico- 
maoliean Ethics, comprised seve 

ral books. In fact, EUSTRAT. in 
Etli. N. 61, b, tells us, obvi 
ously from a well-informed 
source, that the verse ej/ Se 
SiKaLOffvvri, &c. (ARIST. Etli. v. 2, 
1129, b, 29) was ascribed by 
Theophrastus in the first book TT. 
H0o)j/ to Theognis, and in the 
first book of the H0t/ca to Pho- 
cylides. From one of these 
works, or perhaps from both, the 
(ketches of various faults which 
are collected in the Characters 
as we have it appear to. have 
been borrowed. That this, as it 
stands, is an authentic work of 
Theophrastus is incredible ; and 
that a genuine treatise on Cha 
racters by him underlies it, as 
BRANDTS, iii. 360, thinks possible, 
is in fact very unlikely. The 
origin of the collection above 
suggested explains, on the one 
hand, the fact that it does not 
form a connected whole, and, on 
the other, the fact that it exists 
in several different recensions, as 
to which cf. PETEESBN, Tlwopli. 
Characteres, p. 56 sqq., SAUPPE, 
Philodemi De vitiis, I. x. 
(Weimar, 1853), p. 8. SPEXGEL, 
AWiandl. der Munchener Akad. 
Phil., Philos. Kleinschriften, iii. 
495, and PETEESEX, Tlwopli. 
Characteres, p. 66, have also sug 
gested that this Theophrastian 
treatise has been used for 
the statement of the ethical 
teaching of the Peripatetics in 
STOBAEUS, Eel. ii. 242-334, 
HERREN having already con 
nected a part of the account (v. 
his remarks on p. 254) with 
THEOPHR. S book ir. cvrvxias. In 
any case, the sources from which 


not, however, fail here to observe a certain deviation 
from Aristotle s point of view, consisting not so 
much in new or different conclusions as in a slightly 
altered estimate of the relative importance of the dif 
ferent elements which it is the problem of ethics to 
combine. Aristotle had not overlooked the significance 
of external goods and circumstances for the moral life 
of man, but he regarded these only as aids and instru 
ments of moral activity, and insisted on their subordina 
tion to practical virtue. In Theophrastus, on the other 
hand, we find springing from his desire to escape from 
all disturbances a tendency to attach greater importance 
to outward circumstances. With that preference for 
theoretic activity which is so deeply rooted in the 
Aristotelian system, there is united in Theophrastus 
the demand of the student to be permitted to devote 
himself without hindrance to his work as well as that 
limitation to private life which was the outcome of the 
altered conditions of the time. As a consequence of 
this his moral tone lacks some of the rigor and force 
which, in spite of his cautious regard for the external 
conditions of action, are so unmistakable in Aristotle. 
The objections, however, which were urged against him, 
especially by his Stoic opponents, on this ground, are 
manifestly exaggerated; the difference between him 
and Aristotle is an insignificant one of emphasis, not a 
fundamental one of principle. 

STOB^US drew must have been of Theophrastus himself, except in 

of a much later date (cf . ZELLER, the one passage (at p. 300) where 

Ph. d. Gr. iii. a, 546 sq.) and we he is named. As to this cf 

cannot use his statement as BRANDTS, p. 358-9. 
evidence concerning the teaching 




The character here attributed to the ethical views 
of Theophrastus shows itself especially in his account of 
happiness, which he holds to be the goal of philosophy 
as of human activity in general. 1 While he agrees 
with Aristotle in holding that virtue is absolutely 
desirable, and regards it, if not alone, at least in a special 
sense as good, 2 he yet was unable to admit that outward 
conditions are indifferent. He denied that virtue alone 
was sufficient for happiness, or that the latter could 
exist together with extreme forms of physical suffer 
ing. 3 He complained of the disturbances to which our 

1 Cic. Fin. v. 29, 86 : omnis 
auctoritas philosophic, ut ait 
Theophrastus, consist!! in vita 
beata compararda. beate enim 
vivendi cupiditate incensi omnes 
sumus assuming that the words 
ut ait Th. are to be transposed to 
this place, as appears probable. 

2 CICERO, Legg. i. 13, 37-8, 
counts Theophrastus and Aristotle 
among those qui omnia recta et 
honesta per se expetenda duxe- 
runt, et ant nihil omnino in bonis 
numerandum, nisi quod per se 
ipsum laudabile esset, aut certe 
nullum habendum magnum bo- 
num, nisi quod vere laudari sua 
sponte posset. To Theophrastus, 
however, we ought to ascribe only 
the latter of these opinions, and 
this the more confidently be 
cause it is probable from the con 
text that CICEEO is here, as else 
where, following ANTIOOHUS, 
whose eclectic point of view led 
him to minimise the differences 
between the ethics of the Stoics 
and of the Peripatetics, just as 
much as the Stoics, on their side, 
were accustomed to exaggerate 

the distinction. In Tusc. v. 9, 24, 
CICEEO himself tells us that 
Theophrastus admitted three. 
kinds of Goods as did Ari 
stotle (supra, vol. ii. p. 151, n. 1), 
Plato and the Academics (see 
ZELLEK, Ph. d. Gr. i. 808, n. 3, 
and 879, n. 2). 

3,24: Theophr. 
. . . cum statuisset, verbera, tor- 
menta, cruciatus, patriaa ever- 
siones, exilia, orbitates magnam 
vim habere ad male misereque 
vivendum [so said Aristotle also ; 
v. supra, vol.ii. pp. 145, 150, nn. 1, 
2], non est ausus elate et ample 
loqui, cum humiliter demisseque 
sentiret . . . vexatur autem ab 
omnibus [by the Stoics and, above 
all, the Academics] . . . quodmulta 
disputarit, quamobrem is qui tor- 
queatur, qui crucjetur, beat us 
esse non possit. Cf. Fin. v. 26, 
77, 28, 85. It is no doubt the 
same part of the teaching to 
which CICERO, in Acad. ii. 43, 
134,alludes when he remarks that 
Zeno had expected of virtue more 
than human nature admitted, 
Theophrasto multadiserte copio- 


intellectual life is subjected from the body; 1 of the 
shortness of human life, which ceases just when we 
have arrived at some degree of insight ; 2 and of the 
dependence of man upon circumstances which lie 
beyond his own control. 3 It was not indeed his inten 
tion to depreciate in this way the worth of virtue, or to 
seek the essence of happiness in accidental advantages 
and states, 4 but he certainly seems to attribute to out 
ward relations greater importance than his master had 
done. The explanation of this trait must be sought, 
however, in his predilection for the peace and quiet of 
the life of study. He is not accused of attributing to 
external goods as such any positive value. 5 Even his 

seque [contra] dicente ; and also 4 Cf. supra vol. ii p. 402, n. 1. 

when he complains, in Acad. i. 9, The story about Pericles in 

33, that Theophr. . . . spoliavit PLUT. Pericles, 38, can only be 

virtutem suo decore imbecillam- intended to lead up to a negative 

que reddidit, quod negavit in ea answer to the question which is 

sola positum esse beate vivere ; there proposed by Theophrastus, 

cf. Fin. V. 5, 12 : Theophrastum el irpbs ras Tv^as TpeVerai ra ijfi-r] 

tamen adhibeamus ad pleraque, /cal KIVOV/JLCVO. TOLS T&V (rw/uLdrcav 

dummodo plus in virtute tenea- irdOeffiv e^tffrarai TTJS aperijs. As 

mus, quam ille tenuit, firmitatis to the words cited from Calli- 

et roboris. sthenes, they are (as CICERO him- 

1 AjjudPLVT. DeSanit. tu. 24, self remarked and indicated by 

p. 135, e. In PORPH. De Abstin. his metrical translation) a phrase 

iv. 20, p. 373 we have the saying : of some other writer, probably a 

TroAt; rq> ffwfj.ari reAe?j/ evo iKiov T^V tragic orcomic poet, which Theo- 

:_that is, a^it is explained phrastus quoted; and, besides, it 

in the Plutarch Fragment i. 2, 2, 
p. 690, the AuTrai, (f)68ot, 

- Vide supra, vol. ii. p. 351, 
n. 2. 

3 Cic. Tusc. v. 9, 25 : Vexatur 

would be necessary, before we 
could draw a safe inference from 
them, that we should know the 
context in which Theophrastus 
introduced them. An isolated 
excerpt such as this in an attack 

idem Theophrastus et libris et by an opponent is not a safe basis 

scholis omnium philosophorum, for a conclusion as to Theo- 

quod in Callisthene suo laudavit phrastus s real teaching, 

illam sententiam: vitam regit 5 He is blamed merely be- 

fortuna, non sapientia. Cf.PLUT. cause he holds that sorrows and 

Cons, ad ApolL 6, p. 104, d. 

misfortune are a hindrance to 
DD 2 



statements about pleasure closely accord with the 
Aristotelian teaching. 1 But that preference for the 
scientific life which he shared with Aristotle 2 was in 
his case not free from one-sidedness, and he held him 
self aloof from all that might in any degree disturb him 
in the practice of it. We see this especially in the 
fragment of his work upon Marriage ; 3 from which he 
dissuaded the philosopher, both on the ground that the 
care of a house and family withdrew him from his 
work, and that he especially must be self-sufficient and 

happiness ; but this is genuine 
Aristotelian teaching : v. sup. vol. 
ii. p. 402, n. 3. But, on the other 
hand, he required (ap. STOB. Flo- 
ril iv. 283, No. 202, Mein.), that 
men should by simplicity of life 
make themselves independent of 
external thing s ; he desired, ap. 
PLUT. Lye. 10 (see PORPH. De 
Abst. iv. 4, p. 304), Cup. Div. 8, 
p. 527, to see man become by a 
proper use of wealth &TT\OVTOS Kal 
&T)\OS ; and he rinds (ap. Cic. 
Off. ii. 16, 56) the chief value of 
riches in the fact that they serve 
for magnificentia et apparatio 
popularium munerum. 

1 In the passage given by 
ASPASIUS ( Class. Journal, xxix. 
115; cf. BRANDIS, iii. 381) 
THEOPH. says, as Aristotle also 
might have said, that it is not the 
desire of a pleasure which is 
blameworthy, but the passion- 
ateness of the desire and the want 
of self-control. According to 
OLYMPIODORUS (in Pkileb. 269, 
Stallb., he maintained against 
Plato, jury flvai aA.rj07) Kal J/eu8f? 
ySovfyv, a\\a irdffas dAijfleTs. By 
this, however, he cannot have 
meant to deny the differences in 

quality between different sorts of 
pleasure, which the Peripatetic 
school always admitted. He 
meant merely, as is clear from the 
fuller explanation given by 
OLYMPIODORUS, that the ascrip 
tion of truth and falsehood 
to pleasure is inappropriate, be 
cause every pleasure is for the 
man who feels it a true pleasure, 
and the predicate false is there 
fore never suitable. If the words 
fy prjreoi &c. which follow still 
refer to THEOPH., it seems that 
he even admitted the use of the 
words true and false in this 
connection, if only they were 
properly explained. 

2 Cic. Fin. v 4, 11, says of 
both, vit3 autern degendaa ratio 
maxume quidem illis placuit 
quieta, in contemplatione et 
cognitione posita rerum, &c. Ib. 
25, 73, and Ad Alt ii. 16, we are 
told that Dicasarchus gave the 
preference to the practical 
life, and Theophrastus to the 

3 HlEROX. Adv. Jovin. i. 47, 
iv. 6, 189, Mart. Vide Then- 
plmt&ti Opp. (ed. Schneid.) v. 
221 sqq. 


able to dispense with family life. 1 It is quite consistent 
with this attitude of thought that Theophrastus should 
shun, as a hindrance to perfect happiness, such external 
fatalities and sufferings as threaten freedom and peace 
of mind. His nature was not adapted for the battle 
with the world and with the ills of life. The time and 
strength which this would demand would be withdrawn 
from the scientific labours which were his only happi 
ness ; it would interrupt quiet contemplation and the 
intellectual peace that accompanied it. Therefore he 
avoided everything which might involve him in such a 
conflict. Both the Stoic and the Epicurean school at 
this time aimed at making the wise man independent 
and self-sufficient. Theophrastus pursued the same 
end, except that, true to the spirit of the Peripatetic 

1 Theophrastus in this pas 
sage is answering the question, 
Whether the wise man would 
take a wife ? He begins by say 
ing that he would, si pulchra 
esset, si bene morata, si honestis 
parentibus, si ipse sanus ac dives. 
But he promptly goes on to say 
that all these conditions are 
seldom combined, and therefore 
it is more prudent to avoid 
matrimony. Primum enim im- 
pediri studia philosophise, nee 
posse quemquam libris et uxori 
pariter inservire. The best pos 
sible teacher might be to be 
found abroad, but one could not 
go to seek him if one was tied tn 
ii wife. Again, a, wife has no end 
of costly wants. She fills her 
husband s ears, as Theophrastus 
explains in lively mimicry, with 
hundreds of complaints and 
reproaches, night and day. A poor 

woman is costly to keep : a rich 
one is unendurable. A man does 
not discover his wife s faults 
until after marriage. Her de 
mands, her jealousies, her insis 
tences on what is due to her and 
her family are endless. A beauti 
ful wife is hardly to be kept 
faithful; yet a wife without 
beauty is a burden, &c., &c. It is 
wiser to leave one s housekeeping 
to a faithful servant, and to trust 
to one s friends in case of sick 
ness. As for company, a man 
needs no wife : the wite man is 
never alone, for he has the wise 
men of all ages for his com 
panions; and if men fail him he 
can speak with God. Noi- should 
one set store by children, for 
they often bring one rather 
trouble and expense than joy or 
help. For heirs, a man does 
better to choose his friends. 



ethics, he refused to overlook the external conditions of 
the self-sufficient life. 1 

As in the points hitherto discussed the difference 
discernible between Theophrastus and Aristotle is one 
of degree only, which does not admit of being strictly 
denned, so also in the remaining portions of his moral 
philosophy which are known to us it is but seldom that 
any important divergence of view is visible. Theo 
phrastus, like Aristotle, defined virtue as the preserva 
tion of the true mean according to reason between two 
vices, or, more accurately, as the quality of the will 
directed to this end, under the guidance of insight. 2 

1 We should not, however, be 
justified in referring to Theo 
phrastus the line of argument set 
out in CiC. Fin. v. 6, J 7, 9, 24 sqq. 
and STOB. Eel. ii. 246 sqq., in 
which the Stoic dogma of the 
life according to nature is brought 
into relation with the Peripatetic 
theory of the different kinds of 
Good ; for Cicero s account is de 
rived, according to c. 3, 8, 25, 75, 
27, 81 from Antiochus, and that 
in Stobasus (ZELLER, Ph. d. Gr. 
iii. a, 546 sq. 2nd erf.) from Arms 
Didymus, and the later Eclecti 
cism has manifestly coloured both 
of these sources 

2 STOB. Eel. ii. 800: ri olv 
irpbs r)/ [ifffov &